Arthur H. Landis - Camelot 03

by The Magick of Camelot

  “You had my attention. You were yelling like a goddamned banshee.”

  “Your attention span’s not all that good, Collin. I had to fix it.”

  “How did you know what would happen?”

  “I was trailing the sphere through the gateway.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me? All you did was warn. The Deneb could have escaped, Hooli. There was no damn reason for all those men to die.”

  “The Deneb could not have escaped.”

  “Because you say so?”

  “Because I say so—believe me, buddy.”

  I swallowed. ‘Tell me about the sphere.”

  He blew a perfect smoke ring, watched it roll. He said, “Well, I went through the gateway to check things out, and there it was.”

  “What?”

  “The goddamned Dark One’s uncle. Idiot! What do you think that sphere is, a soap bubble?”

  I had to ask. “Where are you now, Hooli?”

  “This side, Collin, but barely.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Just what I said. I’m sort of stuck betwixt and between. A mental matter-to-contra-terrene-conversion’s not all that easy.”

  “Yet you’re here, now, and were in Glagmaron Castle too, with your butterfly-firefly stunt. How do you do it, ace?”

  He grinned. “It just takes more time; and there’s a different time factor here too. It sort of draws you out, like on a taffy wheel.”

  “Hooli,” I asked hoarsely, “if you can, why not close that damned gateway, now!”

  He sang: “Forever is a long longgg tune—” then said softly, distractedly, “It hurts, buddy.”

  I sighed and shrugged mentally. “Okay. You’re here for a reason and I’m wasting time. What is it, Hooli? What should I know?”

  “Don’t mess with the sphere, else it’ll make a nova out of the two Fomalhauts.”

  “Jesu’s ass! What else?”

  “More of the same. You’re on the right track. But don’t, I repeat, don’t involve the sphere in any way, else we’re dead, buddy; this, until I get there.”

  “How do I not involve the sphere, Pooh-bear? It’s the heart of the matter.”

  “Just do what you’re doing, the magick and all that. Oh. And don’t attempt to snatch an Alphian ship to go after the sphere either. You do and we’re dead. Same thing. Hear?”

  “Hooli?”

  “Believe me, buddy.”

  I took a deep breath. “What’s on the other side?”

  “A three-planet system; all useless. The sun’s verging on nova. The expansion factor’s what killed the planets. That’s what I was doing, checking it out.”

  “Where does the sphere get its power?”

  “From the pre-nova. It’s on the order of your Sirius. The physics are fantastic. The power’s drawn incrementally. But any break between point ‘A’ and point ‘B’, and that’s the end. The sphere goes; the sun goes; the gateway goes; the Fomalhaut’s go; but not exactly in that order.”

  His voice inside my head was fading fast. I mentally yelled, “The Alphians, Hooli! Tell me about the Alphians!”

  “Dangerous. Murderous.” His voice came weakly, while the Stutz-Bearcat began to fade and his body too sort of whisped off leaving only the head and the shoebutton eyes from which somehow the monocle had disappeared. One of them winked at me as his voice now came from far off— “They’re like children, Collin—a gang of know-nothing brats; machine-taught. Collin! I beg you. Don’t attack the ships’.”

  I screamed mentally: “Hooli! Take care!”

  There came a sort of murmuring answer of “I love you, buddy.” It was like a soughing of wind in great pines.

  I awoke to Rawl at my shoulder, shaking me. He had an odd expression on his face, a curious light in his eyes. Beyond him was Gen-Rondin and Sernas, the first, grinning, as if he’d caught me, the much-touted Collin, in a weak moment; the second slightly more sympathetic.

  “A nightmare,” Rawl explained his shaking. “We’d thought for sure that the Dark One had returned from the grave to claim you.”

  I sat up, shook the fog from my mind. “The dooky-stew, last night,” I said. “Or maybe the new wine. Nothing that that stream over there won’t cure. Join me, comrades.”

  And they did. For, as oft pointed out, Fregisians are the cleanest humanoids in the galaxy; a cause for wondering, really, why they care so little for the sea.

  The summer current was strong, still in spate; the water cold. Fully refreshed and back on the little river’s bank again, we were toweling briskly when Rogas, one of the best of my student-warriors, called softly and pointed toward the southern horizon.

  We looked. A skyship floated low in the far distance. And even as we watched a great fire broke out beneath it, as if a mighty grove, or town, had been touched by invisible—from where we were, that is—laser beams.

  I looked to the others. “What would you call that?”

  “My lord,” Rogas spoke up. “I was born on the Kelbian border. I know somewhat of this country. Over there is the village of Hedas and beyond it an old castle, once owned by the heggle, Costin. He’s now a land-poor knight and spends most of his time drinking in Gleglyn. Tis not Ibe village that’s burning, sir, but the castle.”

  “Ah huh!” I grunted. I was already reaching for my sword belt to press the communication’s stud. It was the first time that I had ever done this in the direct presence of Fregisians.

  “Come in Kriloy,” I called mentally, staring into the distance. “Come in.” I said it over and over again while the castle burned and the others stared just as silently at me.

  “That you, Kyrie?” He’d finally made it Again his voice sounded sleepy. I could even hear him yawn.

  ‘Who else?” I answered curtly. “Were you asleep?”

  “Yep. Not much to do.”

  “What about the transmitter?”

  “Dead end.”

  “Gog-shit! There’s no such thing as a dead end. On top of that, mister, those damned ships have been landing everywhere. No warning from you; no nothing. They hit Glagmaron last night How the hell long have you been asleep?”

  He attempted to mumble an excuse. I wouldn’t let him finish. “Here’s a straight order,” I said. “You’re to move the scoutship out now! Keep it in ‘null’ plus ‘five.’ That’s the distortion level, in case you’ve forgotten. You’ll be as invisible as yon are now. And, since you’ll be making the run on the mag-lines, the sensors can’t get you either. Now hear me! You’ll fly that ship to the best spot you can find which will be closest to Gortfin Castle.

  “It’s all mapped on the quadrants; automatic on the lines. Just feed in the data, buddy, from A to B. And if you cant do that, why then follow east from Glagmaron City to Gleglyn town and continue for a hundred and fifty miles on the Corchoon road to Kelb. There’ll be a turnoff at that point Gortfin’s to the north at about twenty miles. Lots of mountains; heavy forest. When you land put the ship on total •null’—extended. But first call me. You got it?”

  “Yep. What’s it all about?”

  “Just do it. You’ll find out when you get there.”

  I relaxed, turned to the others. “Let’s get to Gortfin. I’ve a hunch your forefathers from the skyships will be trying to knock out all the castles wherever they find them. They can control the cities and towns; the villages too. But any castle not connected with a town or village will be fair game. They’re not about to allow any points of resistance, if they can prevent it. Let’s ride!”

  Gortfin Castle, surrounded by mountains, had just four approaches; not roads in the accepted sense, but rather cart paths, and damned poor ones at that: Each approach was heavily guarded. Situated on the border with Kelb, Gortfin had always been a redoubt against invasion from that country and had supported at all times a sizable garrison. Until, and after, its possession by the Lady Elioseen, it was the secondary center for all Marack’s armies.

  The army, however, had generally been demob
ilized after the fall of Hish in Om and the end of wars. The garrison was now but two hundred and fifty strong.

  We came storming up the south canyon road at just before high noon. Flying the colors of the royal house, we had clear passage. The bridge was down, the great gates were opened, and the portcullis had been lifted. In the immense military courtyard warrior-lackeys came running from all directions to take our happily whoooing dottles and to guide our swordsmen to the extensive barracks rooms below and to the north.

  Myself, the Lord Commander Fel-Holdt, Lord Jos Viins, commander of the castle for the king, Gen-Rondin, Rawl, Sernas and the rest of Fel-Holdt’s chosen leaders, marched straight from the saddle to the council rooms.

  I called to Jos Viins, a wily old battler, with a hundred scars to prove it, “Well have Elioseen up here immediately, sir; and I do mean ‘immediately’! And double the guard at once on all roads and paths. All who come in our direction, for any reason, are to be seized. We’ll give them ‘guest’ rooms in the caverns below.”

  “As prisoners, my lord Collin?”

  “For the moment, yes.”

  We seated ourselves around the great central table; a beauteous thing of inlaid ivory and turquoise for which the area was known. Wines, ale and sviss came instantly, as did tankards and cups which we filled and raised to each other when our cloaks had been flung to the benches lining the walls.

  The clouds, I knew, had retreated to the west. Olagmaron was apparently still being rained on, while we at Oortfin felt sunlight through every window.

  I glanced to Fel-Holdt and nodded, a sign that I would continue in what had to be done. It was a courtesy to his age and position, really, since it was agreed that I would lead in this. He nodded acquiescence.

  I turned again to Jos Viins, “My lord,” I said. “Tis best too that those wizards, witches, and the like, who also guard our lady, be called up with her.”

  He signaled a page-herald to his side. “There are twelve altogether,” he informed us. “They work in shifts.”

  I laughed. “The more the merrier since well need all the power we can get, and now!”

  Viins asked, “My lords, ‘tis obvious there’s an urgency here. Are we to be informed as to its nature?”

  I glanced at Gen-Rondin. He arose to brief them in as few words as were needed. As heavy tureens of steaming gog stew arrived, Jos Viins, his tone somewhat querulous, said, “You must understand, my lords, that we may have some trouble with our lady. She seldom sees anyone before the fourteenth hour.”

  Fel-Holdt said sternly, “Sir. The urgency’s been explained. She’ll see us now, if your men have to drag her here.”

  “Collin!” He turned to me in horror. “She’s the king’s sister.”

  “Sir,” I replied. “I hold his majesty’s baton. For our purpose she’s what she is, a prisoner in this castle. If she were not here, she’d otherwise be dead. Order her up, now!”

  He looked to Fel-Holdt, his officers, and to my stalwarts. They gazed stonily back at him. Fel-Holdt said flatly, “Get on with it, man. The peril mounts with each wasted moment”

  Though angered, I thought to ease Jos Viin’s position somewhat. “What we do,” I told him, “is not done in pique, believe me. Tis done for Marack.”

  The frown slowly left his face as he studied mine. He said abruptly, “I’ll get her myself, Collin.”

  “You may tell her,” I called to his retreating back, “that she will lunch with us….”

  It was a true summer’s day. The council hall, a smaller replica of the one at Glagmaron, complete with banners, flags, tapestries and the like, was filled with golden dust motes, bird calls from without and the softest of mountain breezes.

  She arrived with Jos Viins, two ladies-in-waiting, her twelve “keepers”—eight sorcerers or warlocks and four witches, all looking stern and solemn—and a full squadron of men-at-arms. Seeing her this first time, I knew at once that her beauty had been but hinted at… . She was golden-furred like my Murie, but there the resemblance ended. For there was no brightness of eye, nor did she have that certain nubile athletic quality, or the pert sauciness and downright arrogance my princess so often displayed. She was, indeed, the very opposite in form and feature.

  Willowy, languid, she was slender to the point of being wraithlike. Her femininity of form, her poise, the studied gaze of her eyes—all of it whispered, I knew, to each man who saw her, of beds and bedrooms and intimate pleasures. Her appeal, in part, was that she seemingly promised a personal surrender to any man whose gaze she captured. She was the supplicant female to the dominant male, and there wasn’t a one of us who didn’t feel that he was the male in question. The correctness of this was apparent in the smug expressions of my comrades.

  Still, we weren’t fools. We’d been briefed as to her propensities and any Marackian beyond the age of twenty knows somewhat of the wiles of the tender-prey. The truth of the matter is that of all those in the room, I was the most vulnerable; if for no other reason than that I was truly curious. I also came from a galaxy of worlds wherein sex, as such, when the situation permitted, was in no way a social crime. Indeed, to such inconstancy one could expect but the faintest of raised eyebrows from one’s mate of the moment.

  As for my own jealousy? Well, nine months on Fregis-Camelot and in the company of such an inspiring honey-pot as Murie would cause regression in the prime graduate of a Sididion stud farm. Such was my fate….

  Fel-Holdt gestured that she be seated. She did, at the far end of the table; this, with her three ladies, all quite young and overly conscious of the importance of their charge. Plates, platters and cups of wine were rushed to them. Elioseen, ignoring it all, sat straight in her chair. In her eyes the promise of love had faded—to be replaced by the power of a patrician’s hauteur.

  I wasted no time. Hungry, I talked while I ate, a warrior’s habit not frowned upon.

  “My Lady Elioseen,” I began, “I am he who is called the Collin, and you know our Lord Commander, Fel-Holdt, and the king, your brother’s judge, the Lord Gen-Rondin… . We are here,” I said, while dipping myself a second helping of gog stew “to ask your aid for Marack, the north, and indeed, for all this great and beauteous world of ours.”

  I paused deliberately, ostensibly to test the temperature of the stew. She seized the moment as I knew she would. Her instant smile was appealing, her voice pure silver, the tones all crystal clear like the tinkling of a bell. “Why,” she asked, “should I help you in any way who have imprisoned me, a daughter of kings, against my will and against the laws of this land?”

  “Because if you do not,” I smiled and waved my spoon, “why then we will all die and it is as simple as that.”

  “Death,” she countered, “is not always the enemy. I ask you again: Why should I help you, my jailers?”

  I sighed, put my spoon down and stared straight into “her eyesj “Enough,” I said, “of protocol. We’ve a thing to do right now, my lady, else even this argument will be over quicker than you can imagine. The peril’s here, now, this instant] I therefore ask that you do two things immediately. One: if ‘tis within your power, and of course with the aid of these twelve good sorcerers and witches, that storm clouds be made to come from all the horizons to cover this castle from the borders of Kelb to the town of Gleglyn, and to the north and south for an equal distance. Two: that magick be made so that when these clouds retreat again, for natural causes, our castle will continue to be invisible from a height of the highest tree in all this area. Moreover, this last condition, if we are to survive, must be maintained for an indefinite period of tune. Do you understand me, my lady?”

  She looked at me long and coolly, said finally, “I understand you. But I still ask for an explanation. I’ve been cozened before, sir, whether you believe it or no.”

  “All right. Tis like this, my lady: Within the next two hours an enemy from the sky, seeking this castle and finding it, will strike it with a hellish fire so that it and all the land around will be destroyed
, utterly. Believe me. I speak the truth, if for no other reason than to spur you to the task. Moreover, though the span is two hours, we could be hit in the next five minutes. As to bargains, my lady, and I speak for the throne of Marack, well we’ll discuss them after the fact of the clouds and the invisibility. Now do you understand me?”

  She laughed. She actually laughed. And the laughter was real. She put her wine cup to her lips for the smallest of sips and said while rising to her feet, “What I’ve heard about you, Collin, my lord, seems proven true. What you say seems true too. I know this, for I can see your mind, sir. And, since I’ve no desire to die either, as apart from saving Marack and the world, well just draw those clouds for you, to hide us from this beast. As for invisibility; well, sir, that will come later, when we talk again.”