Storms of Victory (Witch World: The Turning)

by Andre Norton

  There was enough light here to see faces, that of the Lady Jaelithe and with her Kemoc, while a taller shape beyond must be the Lord Simon. I levered myself up and saw that beyond our small group Sulcar crew members were working to sweep up the all-present ash and send it overboard where a smashed bulwark made an opening to the water. I shook my head trying to loosen the mud plastered about my mouth mask while clawing to get that off that I might breathe again.

  Before me appeared suddenly a bottle held in a steady hand and I managed to get that into my own shaking grasp and gulp down the sourish wine which the Sulcars used to renew strength, steeped as it was with healing herbs.

  That was the last act I truly remember.

  Lights tossed and were gone; I was laying fiat.

  There was an imperative call, a command I had to obey. Though every part of my body screamed for rest it was not yet to be found. Save, I realized through the fog that encircled me, I was not in body. Through no conscious order I was speeding nearer and nearer to a light brighter than any I had seen since we had entered the glass-lined temple. This was true fire rising pillarwise into the air.

  It gave aid to the sighting of what lay about its base. There was molten stuff, thick, pure flame-crested as it flowed away from that stem, growing duller as it made a way slowly but inevitably into water. The steam from that meeting formed clouds as thick as those which might hold a storm.

  There were other dark humps rising from the water. One long saw-toothed stretch still had water trickling from it, though this bore no fiery crown. I thought I saw some creature lying on it writhing in death. But of that I could not be sure.

  It was not what I saw but what I felt which counted now. The use of Power, not that of nature's own cataclysm but summoned by some intelligence, sent waves out into the world even as the tidal wave had been loosed on Varn. Power was here to twist and tear. I have seen a lorka, one of the men-devouring creatures of the north, caught half in a web trap yet fighting so hard with tooth and claw that it could, and many times did, free itself, to rave on against those who were trying to defend them selves against its rage.

  Here it was Power itself which seemed partially trapped. The energy which burst from it fanned outward, to transform what lay about—even as once the combined might of the Witches of Escarp had turned the southern mountains to save their country from invasion.

  Yes, there was Power here, hampered enough so that it almost became an entity which had a purpose and identity of its own. I feared trying to tap it, or to follow it to its source. That it could snuff me out as one pinches the flame of a candle, of that I was sure.

  Yet that which had sent me—or had pulled me hither—was not content to let me linger. My farsight swept on, past the volcano lifted out of the sea, away from that glowing pillar.

  Beyond was darkness. It might be an empty night, save that which still struggled to free itself wholly was still there. Upon that my talent fastened. I, or rather my sight, moved steadily forward. There was enough reflection from the sea fire even here for me to see cliffs rising from the streaming water. They looked stark as if they had been new made.

  I wafted above them only to see that this was all high land, well above any wash of the sea. Far ahead there was a point of light, red glowing as might a coal in a dying hearth fire. It was from that came the surging, fighting Power.

  Still I dared not test it, even use a fraction of the farsight to scan its source. The thing was too raging, too eager to seize. Yet there was something about it which grew into more and more of a puzzle. I had sensed Power many times before, even traces of it in individuals who did not know they possessed any such talent. Then there had been limits, curbs. No one I had ever known, nor heard of, would so expend what was a gift in such an awesome striving for mastership—For it had not been from a desire to rework the earth and water of its world that that energy had struck. No, the destruction was only the by-product of another need. It had been a flaw which produced the breaking of nature's bounds here, not the sustained effort of will.

  Yes, there was a reason and that was only partly fulfilled. What happened to the sea along the path that force had taken was only a side product to its desire. Not dipping in it, but daring to keep in touch with that I could sense I spent farsight more recklessly. I knew now my purpose and need, that I find the source.

  The rot of it came so suddenly I shot beyond and needs must return. There was very little light here; what lay below had a dead blackness which might form a hole reaching into completely nothingness. The farsight was not the same as body sight. I could sense-see that there was below me a structure of some sort, totally lacking in any opening, much apart of the rock on which it squatted like a dour devouring demon out of the spirit Dark.

  Just that—nothing more. I hovered above it striving to pick up some emanation of identity, some hint of who or what was spilling forth that great blast of energy. There was nothing—save the energy itself. Yet I well knew that that was impossible; each hint of talent, and certainly this was far more than a hint, must have its root.

  Still I was justly cautious and I would not venture into what might make me a part of the fierce battle. As my opposition arose I tried to build up the strength of that and return.

  A goal—the Far Rover? But that might well have succumbed to the wave. A person? Lady Jaelithe! As I had trusted to Orsya in the water, so now I trusted to she who had been a Witch and had infinitely more talent than I Instead of looking to that dark blot mounted on ragged cliffs I pulled into mind, with all my effort, a picture of her.

  Into me folded, strong in its way as the wave which had struck into Varn, Power, as if I now stood under a fountain of it. Only I was not pulled back as I longed to be. Rather was I held steady. Then there came a second surge of the well-honed strength, a third, a fourth. I knew that all the company were united and that I was only the point of a dart aimed straight for that thrust outward which was striving to overturn our world.

  As one we attacked. I felt as if I was a bird torn lose by a tempest from some firm perch, to whirl put helpless in a storm it could not ride. I attempted to stiffen, to hold Somehow I did.

  The cliff arose as I whirled, or was dashed earthward, and the sober bulk was there Power—energy—but—life?

  No matter how trained a Witch or a seer may be she cannot so lose herself in what she would do that the fact she exists somewhere else is denied. Here was nothing—or so I first thought. Then I caught it—flashes so quickly found and lost that they sped like the sparks from a fire. There was—or there had been—true life, yes. But the force possessed the life, hot the life the force. And to any of that talent that is as great a horror as was the dead-alive army of the Kolders. It was a negation of all which the Light taught.

  I had not felt the Dark as part of this before—it had seemed neutral, neither Light nor Dark—more like a storm bursting by the will of that which we cannot understand and which is outside our learning. But that it caught within it those it bent to its will so that they no longer were in command of their spirits—this could only be of the park. How cunning and unnatural must be the mind which conceived this that it could not be detected—only showed traces of what must have once been beings of freedom.

  It was my horror at that which brought me back, spinning through the nowhere dark. I opened my eyes and saw Jaelithe's face. Her features measured my own horror as she gazed down at me. Then from behind, for I was lying my head pillowed on another's knees, came a hand holding within it something which I could not see clearly but which was wiped first across my eyes as I shut them again, then my forehead. There was the scent of the sea in that and also of the land, herbs well dried after they had ripened under the sun. I breathed deeply and felt only thankfulness that I had returned, that I had not been lost, bearing the others with me, as had been those piteous others set rigidly to the service of the Dark.

  9

  The Far Rover had survived the fury of the sea better than her sister ship, though t
hat was still afloat, but barely so. Of our number we were now less than half of those who had sailed from Estcarp. All the crew members who had been on deck when the wave struck were missing, as were some who had been wharfside at the coming of the water. Captain Harwic was gone but Sigmun had survived. Going over the injuries of both ships when the deep black of night was turned into the grey of day (we never saw the sun and the ash still fell, though to a lesser amount) it was discovered that the Wave Skimmer would never be seaworthy again but timbers and parts of her could be used for the patching of Far Rover and her kincrew voted by voice that should be done.

  The fact that the masts were torn out of both ships was what concerned the united crew the most. Without those they could not hope for any real escape by sea. Certainly there was no timber in Varn land which could be used to restep those. Nor was there anything in the city warehouses, those which remained intact after the quake, which could be substituted.

  Three of the fishing craft rested now high and fast drying on the second tier of the city. I saw Sigmun and the chief surviving officer of the Wave Skimmer walking around those as our own small party started back up the ramps to the upper town. What had been learned during my venture in farsight must, Lady Jaelithe decreed, be shared with the Speaker for the Seated One. A force which could not be understood, located in the south, able to stir the very earth, air and water of the world itself into such action, was how an enemy to be considered. Perhaps what we had been through this past day and night was only a forerunner of future attacks.

  Some of the city dwellers had come back from the open land. They reported a drastic change in the main river which supplied their valley with water. Where before it had vanished into a cavern within the cliff wall some distance from Varn it now ran straightly, for the cliff had split, rocks peeling away near to the original drain hole. A Falconer on duty with aiding townspeople away from the city had dispatched his bird to scan what might lie ahead there and reported that the water now entered directly into the sea some leagues away from Varn Bay. But exploration in the direction had not yet been undertaken. As long as the water remained within their own sphere the people of Varn were satisfied. Also a party of them, driving their short-legged, long-haired animals up into the upper pasturage, had had a brash with the flying monstrosities which they had barely been able to win. The creatures dived to savage both animals (who were better protected by the weight of hair from which they were soon due to be shorn) and their herdsmen.

  Two of the herdsmen returned with severe bites, already carried by their companions in poison shock from the attack. What care was known to the city was given them but they raved and tried to rise and win back the way they had come, their fellows saying that they had had great trouble in the early period after they were wounded to keep them from trying to climb the southern cliffs.

  Meanwhile we sat in conference with that robed one and two of the city elders. I was enjoined to tell in detail my assay by farsight. A question was speedily thrown at me.

  “This thing which you sensed, is it strong enough to strike again?”

  “I do not know. Nor was I able to learn the reason for its outbreak.”

  One of the city councilors turned his face fully, so that his cold eyes were hard upon mine.

  “You from the sea"—a small gesture of one hand indicated the whole of our shrunken party—"seek this thing, is that not so?” Unlike his fellows met earlier he spoke trade language easily. “We have heard talk of guardians which are to be found in the lore of your ship people. It could well be that you have drawn the attention of this thing, which is so unknown to you, upon Varn and we now lie under its eyes ready for a second blow! The sooner you are forth from Varn the more we shall be pleased!” There was enmity in his voice which was as chill as the glance with which he held me.

  Into the silence following that statement came another voice. For the first time she who wore the cowled robe spoke aloud. Why she chose the form of oral speech I did not know, unless it was because she wanted to cut any closer contact with us, in that she might agree with the councilor.

  “You have sworn to the truth of this upon the very talent you possess,” she began and I nodded. I had slept after my ferrying forth to use the farsight but still my strength had not fully returned. My mind I opened deliberately. If she wished she could so tap the mind send, know that there was no guile in that I had reported.

  “One guardian met with you to the north, before you came into Varn waters,” she continued deliberately. “Therefore if that were a scout, or messenger, your coming was already known. There might be excellent reason for preparing this which has been sent against us as well as you.”

  Lady Jaelithe gave answer as the other paused: “Yet these flying creatures were not sent upon you after our coming but-well before, even perhaps before we raised anchor in Es Bay.”

  “I have heard,” the cowled one made now direct answer to that, as if she was now summoning all she could use as evidence against us, “that one among you found floating derelict a ship which was not of any race we know and that he took that to Es. Perhaps he so robbed a power of its prey. Have you thought upon that?”

  “There have been other ships, and those were Sulcar, which have in the near past been found floating so. It is the reason for that which brought us south. You think that they could also be prey reft from some enemy? Have you not also lost fishing boats?”

  There was a long moment of silence. One of the councilors moved in his chair as if he found it difficult to sit there, perhaps because he was near Lord Simon, towards whom he darted glances now and then as if wondering why he had come armed to this meeting.

  “We have lost boats—and fishermen,” the, cowled one conceded. That muffed head turned a little in my direction. I wondered how she could see when those folds fell so low as to mask her face. “You speak of others caught in the full power of this force. What did you mean? Could you have called out the names and been answered?”

  I shook my head. “There were sparks of life within that, yes. But none dared I seize upon. It was like a great net,” I used an example of her people, hoping both she and the councilors could understand the better, “full of struggling fish being drawn swiftly at the will of the netter.”

  Once more the cowl altered a fraction and now its dark opening faced the Lady Jaelithe. “This farseer has testified that the all of you with the gift joined her in seeking What thought you of this matter of ‘sparks of life’ supposedly netted by an enemy you cannot describe?'’

  “They were there.” The Lady Jaelithe's hands moved, and there was meaning in their movements, though I could not read it.

  Out of the long sleeves which hid her hands when she wished came those of the cowled one. She fitted fingertip to fingertip at breast level and then, in a sudden gesture which I was sure was one meant to repel, she swung the palms out as if they now formed a shield.

  “You call upon that which I do not know, Witch. I am no spell-sister of yours! We be of different blood, far different. I think you indeed meant no harm when you anchored in our bay. But also it is very easy to believe that it was because you did so this mighty disaster came upon us. Yes, we have lost fishermen and seen the coming of other evils—such as the flying things—and so, it has been recorded, has happened before. But never have we paid such a price to any power as was rift from us this time. It would be well for you to go forth from Varn as speedily as you can, one way or another—”

  Lord Simon broke in upon her now, with no sign of usual courtesy, speaking rather as to another warrior who had reported some peril to come:

  “Our ships are not seaworthy. The Wave Skimmer will never sail again. Nor does this land here offer that which will repair the Far Rover enough to make it seaworthy. How then do we go? Men cannot walk on the waves and there is no path along the cliffs to be followed—”

  Again the cowl swung and this time it was turned to the one of the councilors who had not yet spoken. He cleared his throat gratingly
as if it were full of the dust which had fallen outside. His hands were resting on his knees and I saw both of them clench into fists as if he prepared to face some attack.

  “There is another ship …” He hesitated and then swallowed raspingly again.

  I think astonishment held us all for a moment before Kemoc leaned a little forward in his chair to demand:

  “What ship—a fisher's craft? And Where?”

  “The spy bird that serves your fighting men has reported such. Near where the new river gate to the sea has opened.”

  “A wreck—” began Lord Simon.

  “Not so, this one has not been battered. It floats well—”

  “We were not told of this!” Lord Simon snapped. “Is it one of yours?”

  “Not so!” And the councilor used something of the same heat in his reply. “There is still life on board, or so your bird spy has reported.”

  “Thus comes your means of travel.” The cowled one spoke up quickly.

  “Sulcar?” Lady Jaelithe did not ask that of the Varn people but of me and I knew I must seek again.

  I closed my eyes and strove to put all from my mind but a picture of the Far Rover as an example of what I must seek. Then I sped forth the weary power of send as a trader might work a sea jewel out of its shell. I felt the familiar sick queasiness which came when I was foolish enough to use the power again far too soon. The hazy picture in my mind grew sharper, more fixed. I was indeed looking down upon a ship. The masts were two and to their yards still clung fluttering tatters of sail. But there were differences between this and any Sulcar ship I had ever seen. It was smaller, yet not a fishing boat. Now it rocked a little in the wash of the sea but there was a reef extending which kept most of the force of the waves from pummeling it. Except for the loss of sails it looked to be still seaworthy.