by Andre Norton
I sang the song which Kynrr had himself fashioned in exile, one which spoke of the stars he loved to watch, the softness of the nights, the harshness which came with the day, and above all the loneliness that ate into one apart.
Why that one of all the songs of his own making he had given to me came now I did not know. It was as if this was proper and rightful for this day and twilight time.
“Where learned you that?” The last notes dropped from the strings even as Allitta was upon me. There was not the scornful withdrawal which always seemed to possess her when she looked at me. She was inwardly aflame, almost I could see her hand tense as if to aim a blow.
“From its maker. He who called himself Kynrr—”
“A dead man does not sing!” she hissed as might one of the kottis.
“True. Yet when he taught me this he was not dead. Though the Great Essence took him later.”
She raised that fisted hand and bit at the knuckles. Across those she looked at me as if she would reach into my mind and pull forth the stuff of memory.
“But that is not—There was no known Kynrr’s song in this tune!”
“I knew such.” Swiftly I spoke of the hermit and of his place of exile. Of how he had spoken of Vapala and of how he had died, having given his strength to my rescue.
She listened. Then I saw that her eyes in the lamplight glistened.
“Kynrr,” she repeated the name when I had done. “It was indeed Master Kynrr whose blood that one bore. I believed him dead in the night’s slaughter. That he won free—” She shook her head slowly. “The last of the sworn ones, and so that was his ending.”
She might be speaking to herself as she dropped down upon the cushions opposite me. Some strength could have, for the moment, gone out of her. There was desolation in both her eyes and her voice. Now she reached forward and touched the Kifongg I had put down, touched it as if she might so put finger on a great treasure.
“True enough—this was of Kynrr—and Kiticar treasured it. Had any saved it, it would have been him. Many times I have heard him play—he was one of the great ones, even as was Kynrr long ago, though ever said he was not the master as that one was.”
She grasped the Kifongg fully now and drew it into her lap. Her fingers found the strings. What came forth was not the lament which had been born by my playing, but rather small gem notes which spoke of growing things, of the dancing of feasters, of the quickening of hearts. Never had I heard such from the man who had called himself Kynrr, yet somehow I knew that this song was also of his fashioning in another and happier time.
I leaned back a little against the bulk of Murri, who, as usual, had settled behind me to listen in delight. There was something which came to lighten the heart, assure the hearer that beyond all cares lay happiness and beauty.
It was not to last. Sharply came other notes, crystal clear but with nothing gentle in them. They rang through the walls. Allitta’s fingers ceased to move, she was again stern of face, shaken out of that which had possessed her. Ravinga straightened in her place.
“Haban-ji goes to his sealing,” she said. “A time ends, new begins.”
I wondered what mysteries now were in progress in the Vapalan House of the Past. How long would this new resident there be remembered? Oh, yes, any child could recite the roll of Emperors going back for generations. The singsong of that roll came even now to the fore of my mind. But how many of them had set any lasting mark upon that roll, save for their names?
“Tomorrow,” Ravinga had to raise her voice to compete with the chimes of departing, “they will choose.”
I moved, shifted. Must I now again face her belief that I was one who would make that choice? If she expected some answer from me she did not get it. After a moment she arose to go into her own quarters. Allitta slid the Kifongg from her knee to the floor and abruptly departed also without a word, leaving me to seek my own bed. However, this night I did not go alone, for Murri paced beside me as he had in that trial by travel through which we both had come.
The chimes sounded once more in the morning, all of them in a clamor which was ear-splitting to one who came from the relative silence of the desert. Still I was drawn with Ravinga, and Allitta, and seemingly all those of the households of Vapala who could crowd into the square before the Hall of the Past.
There was a bright splash of color on the high flight of stairs leading up to the wide portal of that hall. The Queens were aglitter with gems; their foremost courtiers made a back tapestry. Before them were the Herald and the Head of the foremost House of Vapala. Between those a sleepy beast wore a netting of diamonds about its ears—the Blue Leopard, always companion guard to the Emperor, in himself the symbol of power.
For a last time the chimes of the Great Mobile, shining rainbow patterns in the sky above us, sounded and then were silent as the Herald came forward. He had the reaching voice of his office and it carried over the throng massed below.
“The Great Haban-ji is now of the Final Essence. There must be one to follow him. These are the tasks, O men of courage and skill. Listen well and then take oath you shall reach for the triumph of the crown.” He pointed to the Great Crown set in the heart of the mobile.
“From ancient times it has been that he who would rule must prove himself to each of the queendoms, that he may well understand the life of those whom he shall rule.
“First: in Thnossis he must venture close enough to the ever-flowing lava river to bring back one of the ruby cats of Qurr from that temple which the river now threatens to engulf.
“In Azhengir he must join in the harvest of salt crystals, proving to those who labor there his fitness to be considered their equal in skill.
“In Twahihic he must harvest from the haunted garden.
“In Kahulawe he must discover and challenge the Leopard Keeper of lasting knowledge that he may touch the talisman and so be given the high power of judgment both good and evil, himself being judged thereby.
“On his return here, he must claim the crown from its place aloft.
“He who can return a victor in all—Emperor shall he be!”
More likely, I thought, he will have passed to the Essence. What mortal man could survive that? Each of the trials was long known to be well nigh impossible. Yet I also knew that there would be no shirking, that it must and would be done even as the Herald had outlined. Among those massed here below was a man who would stand there at last with the crown in his hands, no matter how many lives would be gone to gain that.
21
Massed before the steps on which the dignitaries stood were those who offered themselves for trial. I knew that many of them had started from their homes before the actual death of Haban-ji, when the first rumors of his decline had been spread. Now they were gathered, each in a group of the land of their birth—clad in their best finery, armed, and already on show to their fellows.
To me, well back in the throng, they were one mass of warrior wigs, to be sighted now and then when there was some ripple of movement in the crowd. I heard around me some names mentioned, but none of those except that of Shank-ji were known to me.
The leopard stirred and of a sudden the hum of the gathered people ceased. Though the chimes of the lesser mobiles continued, those of the great would not be heard now until the final test.
Down the steps flowed that sleek animal. The sunlight made an azure glow of his fur, his eyes were fierce gems of a milky grey. He came to the candidates. The crowd about me pressed backward until I was near the opening of one of those streets which fed into this plaza. I could no longer see what was happening, but I knew well the leopard was a-hunt.
There was a rising sound. Those who had come from Thnossis opened their tight group and from that a single one of their number stepped to the second stair to face his Queen, who greeted him as her champion, gave into his eager hands the emblem of this search. From that moment forward he would be free of all other demands upon him, set only to the task ahead.
So was he
joined by the select ones from Azhengir and Twahihic. Then Shank-ji, who could not be taken for any ordinary contestant. Again there was a murmur arising. There had been no candidate as yet to walk forward from those representing my own land—yet I had earlier marked the number of volunteers from Kahulawe.
The crowd behind the groups of chosen were in movement and again I was pressed back. I had already lost touch with Ravinga and Allitta. Those about me were Vapalan townspeople of the middle classes, exchanging comments in their own clipped speech. I gathered from what I heard, the information spreading, that the leopard had passed by all the men of Kahulawe as if they did not exist and was now entering into the massed throng.
I could see the rippling which must mark the coming of the beast, those drawing from side to side away from that embodiment of imperial power. That ripple spread to where I stood.
Men and women drew away to afford clear passage as the beast came striding as might the Emperor himself. He halted—before me!
Moon-silver eyes regarded me, sweeping from head to boots. Then the gaze centered on that pendant which I had dared to wear this day. Leopard and Sand Cat were no brothers in blood bond. Leopards had hunted Sand Cats with the men of Vapala for generations. I saw the lips of this one curl back to show the fangs which seemed to shine in threat. Still the beast paused only for a moment before it came directly to me and then yowled as one which had fastened upon the prey it sought, though it had not cried out so when it had made its other selections.
There was a quick surge away from me so that now I stood alone with only the leopard. It looked once more into my eyes, and, much as I wanted to slip into the street behind me and be away from it and what its interest in me meant, I knew that escape was now past my ability. Between me and those steps on which stood the four already selected was a clear aisle and the leopard turned to tread it. Without hope of outwitting fortune I followed behind.
Around me there was a clamor of speech in accents of all the queendoms. I wondered if this had ever happened before—and resented that it had happened to me. I was not any young blood, steeled by desert patrolling, safe in the esteem of House or clan. Those with whom I must vie were certainly as different from me as the burning sun from the cool of the night.
I came to those from Kahulawe and, though some made a path for me, there was another who made a firm barrier of his own body. He had turned to face me as I came and I knew that this, my brother, carried not contempt for me now but something approaching hate. I saw his hands as they hung by his sides open and then clench as if upon the hilt of a weapon. His eyes were narrow, and hard, barriers to veil his innermost being. We could have been enemies from years of struggle instead of two who shared the same blood.
The leopard had passed him to return to its statue pose on the steps. However, Kalikku did not move to let me by. It was plain he was daring me to join those others selected by fate—or the whim of a beast.
“This one is a servant!” His voice arose and those about him gave ear, their silence spreading. “This one is no more than a herder of beasts, a carrier of burdens. He is not fit—”
Now he swung around and spoke directly to our Queen, who had descended a step or two drawn by the strangeness of this selection.
“Great Lady, this one is a shame to those of Kahulawe. It is wrong he should be chosen to disgrace our nation. Surely such a selection cannot stand!”
The Herald was now beside Queen Alompra Eakanna. It was he who answered:
“Be silent! It is not for any of us to say this one or that should try for the crown.” His hand went out to almost touch the head of the leopard. “From the beginning it was given to this one and his kind to bring forward those who are on trial. Do you dare to question the one who is the servant of the Great Essence? If even a slave of Azhengir is so designated as a candidate then he must be given his full chance.”
My brother might have been rendered unable for any more protest, but his eyes told me of the fury that gripped him. One of his companions caught his shoulder and jerked him back, leaving me at last a free path. I longed to cry out myself at that moment, that much of what Kalikku said of me was the truth. I was one ignorant of warrior ways, one who had been a servant even in his father’s house. Yet I knew that that would avail me nothing. My fate had been settled when the leopard had looked me eye to eye.
Thus it was under escort of Queen Alompra’s own guard that I returned to Ravinga’s home to take up my pack again. Of Murri there was no sign and I hoped that he was well hidden. That the dollmaker would somehow get him out of Vapala I was sure.
She had ready for me the pack I had brought out of the desert, but its outer wrappings had been renewed with a fine new blanket and she had also prepared for me the clothes of a traveler, the heavy boots, the short coat, the thick leggings—all of outstanding quality. When I had changed and left the finery she had given me earlier, I picked up the Kifongg. This fine instrument should be left here in safety. Allitta stood in the shop and I held it out to her. “Maiden of the House, this is best in your hands now.”
“If you wish.” She was cool, but then she added, “The Essence be with you, seeker of thrones.”
The Queen’s guard had a led oryxen for my riding, that resented my pack until I calmed it with that skill I had learned among my father’s herds.
I had no time to really speak with Ravinga. But I sensed that she wished me well. As I swung into the saddle I saw her fingers move in a small, nearly hidden gesture which was one to summon the good will of the Great Essence. But what was more strange was that Allitta, now in the shadows behind her, made the sign in addition to her spoken good wishes.
It was the custom that each contestant begin his trials in the country of his birth, and to the border of Kahulawe we moved at a goodly pace. The first night out, as we camped, I found myself very much alone. None of the warriors of this company spoke to me in a friendly fashion, rather only with the aloof speech of the court. I was left to myself largely, though I realized that every move I made was noted and perhaps commented on.
My brother had served his allotted time in the guard. Did his opinion of me hold with these men? That could well be. They had offered me my choice of weapons and though no one sneered openly I took only those with which I was familiar—a wayfarer’s staff (though one much better than any I had before seen, as this one had longer blades of fine metal set in the length) and a knife. I was not offered a sling. Doubtless that was considered so far beneath the proper equipment that they did not even possess them, but my own was fastened in my belt loop.
It took us three days of fast riding, changing mounts along the way at the camp points on the traders’ trail. Then we were across the border and once more the essence of my own place enveloped me with more comfort than any cloak or blanket no matter how well woven.
Once in Kahulawe I realized that we had a follower, Murri, though I could never catch sight of him, nor could any who rode with me do so. The relief of learning that lightened my mind. There was an ordeal before me which was none of my making but one I could not escape. Twice I dreamed that I sat once more at that table in Ravinga’s house and looked down upon the stone of dull black which was first the head of a leopard and then that of a rat.
Rats were a matter of conversation about the campfire at night. There had been a steady flow of information open to the guard concerning packs of the creatures, larger and apparently more intelligent than any we had ever known. They were said to have near completely overwhelmed one of the crystal-enclosed cities of Twahihic, coming up through earth tunnels and slaying more than ten times ten hands of people—such a disaster which none of us had heard of before.
Morning brought the arrival of the Chancellor of Kahulawe and she came to me directly. There was no sign of favor in her manner.
“You go thus—” She turned a fraction and pointed westward. “The rest of this journey is yours alone, Klaverel-va-Hynkkel.” Her lips folded tightly together.
It was plain
that in her eyes I was no fit representative for my country. Her scorn did not strike me as strong as such had done in the past, for I might not be a warrior, but I had—my one hand clasped and caressed the scars on my other wrist—danced with the Sand Cats, and out there waiting for me now was one whom none of these would face without drawn steel.
I bowed my head with courtesy as I answered:
“Great One, I accept this path.”
Once more her lips twisted as if she tasted a sour and bitter mouthful. “May the Essence possess you in this—” The tone of her conventional words left much to be desired.
I laid out my pack to discard all which might make an extra weight, slowing me down. Somewhere ahead was an island of legend. What I was to confront there I was not sure. I could only hope that in this test, which was of my own land, I would not fail.
At twilight I set out and they watched me out of camp. There were no cheering words and about me their disbelief was like a smothering cloak. Only that was a spur to action and not a deterrent.
I had pushed well away from the torchlight of the camp when there was a darker spot against the night gleam of the sands and Murri came to me. He rubbed his head against my thigh and I went on one knee to stroke the thick fur of his head and neck, scratch behind his ears. Our meeting was heartening. Under just such rising stars as these had I seen his kin in their dancing and, even as that memory crossed my mind, the Sand Cat whirled about like a kotti playing tail-I-must-catch, giving voice to a singing purr of excitement.
Hardly knowing what I did, my own steps became not those of one patiently slogging through the sand, but rather I, too, advanced in the formal steps and then short leaps I had used at the feast meeting of his clan.
For some moments it was so with us and then that which I must do broke through the small snatch of freedom. Murri ceased his own bounds to come to me.
“What waits—?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Truly I do not know, save that I must search out the heart of Kahulawe and there face that which guards it—and they say the path lies ahead.”
