by Brian Daley
Just then the lead Lobo faded from sight and the second rolled forward to mop up what was left of the confused ambushers.
PART III
Freegate, Beyond,
and Elsewhere
Chapter Fourteen
I wish all men to be free, as much from mobs as men— From you as me.
—Lord Byron
Taking into account the scavenged horses plus those belonging to Springbuck and the deCourteneys—they didn’t want to use any of the draft animals as saddle horses—they settled on a party of fifteen for what Van Duyn termed their hejira to Freegate.
Besides basic provisions, the thaumaturgical apparatus and the few books and scrolls, they took only a minimum of personal belongings and their weapons. All had intended to take part in the journey, and those not chosen to go were disappointed and were mollified only when Van Duyn took them aside to explain the commission of war with which they were to be invested as guerrillas. The others saw to what little packing was needful.
Gabrielle found several occasions to brush against Springbuck or let her hand touch his, and each time his skin tingled and his face burned red. He was not unaccustomed to female companionship and had taken his first lover years before; but he felt gawky and sheepish in her presence and suspected that she liked things that way and was contriving through outwardly innocent acts to keep it so.
When Van Duyn returned, the scholar was not pleased; his wretchedness as Gabrielle’s favor drifted from him wouldn’t permit any such uplifting emotion. But he was satisfied. “I put Treehigh in deputation over them,” he said. “He’s self-reliant and physically competent. I think that he’s the sort of man we’ll need here, though he is petulant at not being able to go with us.”
The Prince recognized the name, its owner being a big, bearded lumberman, quiet and intense.
“All of these people should be able to return to their homes, once we’re gone,” the scholar added. “Yardiff Bey’ll have bigger fish to fry than Erub.”
It was decided that they’d rest a bit longer, then depart under cover of darkness. Springbuck’s sleep was fitful, filled with slow-motion excerpts of the battle in Amon’s mansion and passing glimpses of Gabrielle. When Andre shook him awake by torchlight, he was bathed in sweat. He dashed himself with water from the trough, then resumed boots, sword and other gear and saddled Fireheel. The gray snuffled his master, scenting strange places upon him, but was eager to be away. The war-horse had stood too long in a stall’s confinement with tamer beasts. The dressing on the Prince’s wounded right leg, just above the boot top, began to fret him and he removed it. The cut wasn’t nearly healed but looked as if it would remain closed, and he wanted to let the air get at it.
There was plenty of room on the reconnaissance cavalryman’s saddle for the meager share he was to carry. He was up and mounted in a moment and Fireheel pranced and curvetted happily. Van Duyn was ahorse with his rifle and was followed by the deCourteneys, with Gabrielle in boyish hose and jerkin, and the other eleven, mostly young, with two women among them. The baby was carried papoose-style on one rider’s back. One of the women, whose husband and infant son had been slaughtered in Erub, had volunteered to care for the child and was plainly happy for the consolation.
Waving final good-byes to those few still in the castle, they turned and filed out across the drawbridge. One of the locals, a slight fellow with kinky brown hair and a freckled face, led the way with the deCourteneys and the other Erubites strung behind. Springbuck and Van Duyn, at the outlander’s suggestion, fell back to the end of the column.
It required full attention to guide their horses at first, but soon they were on a broad trail and could see somewhat better. The Prince wondered for a moment what would happen to the vast carcass of Chaffinch, lifeless on the fields they left behind them.
Van Duyn said, “I haven’t had much time these few hours we’ve known each other to tell you about my country, about the ideas and ideals from which I draw my philosophy. I thought that, since we’ll be passing some time travelling, you might care to hear a little of them.”
Springbuck agreed guardedly, partly because he felt guilty about the older man’s anguish over Gabrielle’s change of fancy, wanting to show that he bore no ill feeling. Van Duyn spoke at length, fascinating the Prince, about his home and the great documents and statements of his Reality and his nation. The Heir of Kings was oddly moved by passages from compacts, speeches and laws. He considered much of what he heard blatant heresy, held it seditious and immoral. But it was compelling withal, a vivid narrative of the struggle of imperfect Man, through battle and the intricacies of law, toward human enfranchisement.
The monologue came to an end. “I’ve explained this,” Van Duyn finished, “because I must ask something of you. When we’ve gained control of Coramonde, I’d expect you, as Ku-Mor-Mai, to abdicate and create representative government in the suzerainty.”
Springbuck was speechless for long moments. Just when he’d begun to dream of taking his father’s place with such allies as the deCourteneys and Gil MacDonald!
Receiving no answer, Van Duyn pressed him harder. “After all, you’d already forfeited the throne, more or less, when you came to us.”
The Prince chewed his lip and slapped his reins against his thigh. Fireheel pranced nervously, chaffing at being held to a walk.
“This, then,” said the son of Surehand, “when I depose Strongblade, we’ll hold a plebiscite and let the people of Coramonde decide.”
Van Duyn nodded. “Fair enough. In return for this, though, your commitment to our cause is unstinting?”
Springbuck concurred, and they rode on together in silence.
Andre left his sister’s side and fell in with them. The deCourteneys, of course, could have gone on to Freegate at far faster pace by means open only to them. But Andre had reckoned that the others might well need guidance and perhaps other, special help as well, and so the two went by prosaic paths.
“One thing you’ve not yet told us, young Pretender,” Andre said. “When you ran back to speak to Amon in his hall, what words passed between you and the demon?”
His mind yanked back from thoughts of the carven throne in Earthfast to the unpleasant problem he’d been wrestling with since their return from the Infernal plane. The Prince hesitated, but he judged that the others had a right to hear.
“I told him that I knew that Strongblade is Yardiff Bey’s son, and I asked who Bey’s daughter is. He laughed even then at the humor of our not knowing and said that . . . that Bey’s firstborn, his daughter, is Gabrielle.”
Van Duyn went white. “A lie!” he whispered.
Andre said nothing.
“No, I think not,” Springbuck said. “And I have tussled with this thought for some time. Rumor has always had it that Bey can wear many disguises.
“Put aside your prejudices, then, and think. Why could it not have been him, Bey, who tempted Andre’s father and won for himself the default to beget a child of Andre’s mother. Look you: why has Bey been at odds with Andre for years untold but never with Gabrielle? He has never offered her hurt, never struck at his daughter once except in killing the husband who had won and held her unswerving affections.
“And who has been Gabrielle’s enemy? Mara, who is Bey’s rival before their mutual patron, Amon. When Bey had Gabrielle at his mercy in Amon’s hall he did her no harm; knowing that Mara would be there, he posted the old woman with the aclys whom Olivier killed as a guard over both his daughter and the baby we rescued.”
“I resist this thought,” Andre said, “but I find it well reasoned and convincing. It is supportive of . . . things I’ve suspected.”
“Why then would Bey try to capture her?” asked Van Duyn. “Can he possibly hope for some sort of reconciliation with her?”
Springbuck replied; “Andre’s sister has told us that she knew that the baby is extremely important to Yardiff Bey, but I think that it is no offspring of Bey himself. Now consider this: one of his two ch
ildren, Strongblade, has given Bey access to tremendous worldly power, the armed might and political influence of Coramonde, while the other child, Gabrielle, is the greatest source of pure sorcerous force, a potent tool in his second sphere. I think he meant to win Gabrielle over somehow by using the child.”
But Andre was shaking his head. “No. The omens, the stars, every divination my sister and I could carry out over the babe point to this, that she is of critical importance in some facet of the battle being waged against Shardishku-Salamá. But I doubt her use as a lever for my sister.”
Springbuck was about to speculate again when a cry came to them from ahead. Their eyes pursued the direction of an arm raised to the sky and saw there, high above them, a silvery object riding the night, uncertain of shape and poised on columns of red flame.
“Bey’s flying ship,” Andre said, and they halted to gape at the sinister visitation. They were exposed on a grassy, rock-studded slope in the moonlight, but the aircraft came no lower nor did it linger, but sped unheedingly eastward.
Gabrielle galloped back to them excitedly. “Yardiff Bey! He’s scum, of course,” she said, her breathing quickened, “but, oh! What a thing to accomplish. To get the Gnomes and the Deep-Rock Dwarves to labor together for twelve years and forge a metal beyond metal and imprison a fire elemental within.”
The three looked at her worriedly, searching for any approval or enthusiasm for her father beyond his works. Andre said, “Springbuck and Edward were about to take the head of the column for a while. Why don’t you ride here with me? I will speak with you for a bit.”
She glanced from face to face to mask in the moonlight, perplexed; but as the group began to move again, she brought her roan lightly around until her knee brushed her brother’s. As Van Duyn and the Prince trotted to the head of the band, the older man unslung his rifle from his shoulder. “We’ll have to accelerate the pace a bit,” he said. “Yardiff Bey was no doubt scouting for us. I don’t think he’s seen us or has many loyal troops in this region yet. The slaying of Chaffinch and the raid on Amon’s hall gave him reason for pause, but he’ll come after us eventually and we have a long way to ride before we can breathe easily.” Nevertheless they held a slow pace while Andre and Gabrielle rode speaking at the rear of the file. They glanced back occasionally and saw after a time that the magician and his sister had stopped and it seemed in the dimness that she burrowed her head at her brother’s shoulder as if weeping. They both wanted to go to her. They both restrained themselves.
Soon the deCourteneys were apart and moving along again. By mutual agreement, the American and the Prince started the company moving at a fast trot. Conversation ended as they all concentrated on guiding their horses across the rough ground, the trail being rutted. By cutting overland they might have saved distance, but Springbuck felt that they’d lose time. Since they might have been sighted by Yardiff Bey, they elected to take the route affording the greatest speed, albeit more perilous.
The Western Tangent was deserted except for the fugitives. The Prince wondered that Bey had not raced to alert some outpost of their coming; then it occurred to him that the wizard, if he had seen them, would still have difficulty in locating a friendly garrison at night, for there were a number of family Keeps in the area that would show him scant hospitality.
Old and broad as it was, built before the Great Blow fell, the Tangent rose, dipped and turned but little, striking through the countryside like a bowshot. Their progress was rapid; when they passed an occasional waypost along the road, they found each unmanned, relieving them of the necessity of bluffing or forcing their way past the Constabulary of the Road. Twice they spied approaching groups of travelers, the first mounted and the second afoot. But in each case the others left the Tangent to avoid them. Springbuck speculated that these were highwaymen grown bold with the absence of the Constabulary, but Andre said that it might just as well have been honest folk thinking they were brigands. As for the missing Constabulary, the wizard felt that they could have departed for fear of Bulf Hightower, brother to the slain Rolph, who would no doubt swear death to any man of Strongblade’s or Fania’s whom he encountered, for the land they approached was under his seigniory.
The country changed from relative openness to more densely wooded stretches. At one point the soil under the Tangent had been etched away by a river which had not been there when the Tangent was built. They rode an unsupported span of the Western Tangent for a stretch of thirty yards or more while angry waters roiled beneath, yet the Tangent was as steady and unyielding at this point as at any other.
The sky was brightening with the rising sun when they went some distance into the wood at the side of the road and encamped in a small glade by a watershed pond amid lush grass, strange scarlet moss and clusters of peculiar purple blossoms. At one end of the glade were sections of ruined wall, some remnant of times before the Great Blow. Beyond was an interesting antiquity, a crystalline cube with sides the length of a tall man and, within it, like a fly in amber, a delicate and lovely black fern arched, ancient and unidentifiable.
They picketed their horses and one of the Erubites volunteered to stand the first watch. The two women, who had enthusiastically followed Gabrielle’s notion of dressing in male clothes, insisted on being assigned a turn at guard, too, as full participants in the company. Springbuck was surprised, but could think of no reason not to accommodate them. He and the rest slept immediately, too fatigued to eat or sleep.
He stood his hour of guard about noonday, half-drowsing in the heat. He finally arose and paced about the small encampment in order to stay fully awake. He dashed water in his face and rubbed Fireheel down with handfuls of grass, feeding him a bit from a small store of oats he’d brought from Erub. He then cut a green twig with his parrying dagger and stripped the bark, crushing one end to separate the fibers, and cleaned his teeth with it, a practice the late Faurbuhl had enjoined him to follow daily. Once or twice the baby stirred and complained and her nurse saw to her sleepily.
At length the shadow of the makeshift time-pole indicated the end of his watch and he awakened his replacement and sank back gratefully to slumber.
When he awoke, the sun was sloping toward the horizon once again and he and his companions made a quick meal of cold meat and bread, washing it down with swigs of water from a skin filled at the pond. As they saddled their horses he thought to ask Van Duyn, “Will Gil MacDonald bring back more guns with him?”
“No. He told me he knew where he could get many, and that he’d be able to bring other weapons back with him; but I told him that before we introduce more firearms, if eventually we must, I’d like to see if we can rectify matters here without them. I did, however, give him a list of books and other source materials we need.”
Perhaps this was sensible, but the Prince thought of the Legions of Coramonde under Strongblade, and would have liked to have had one of those amazing guns.
Gabrielle looked less distraught than she had last night and even managed an enticing smile for him. She’d slept the night at her brother’s side and appeared to be coping well with the shattering disclosure of her parentage.
The Prince ordered their column and they were all in the saddle and away. At first, the Tangent was as vacant as it had been the night before. They passed a number of small villages along the way, which looked to be deserted, but they didn’t stop to see. The gates of the inns were boarded up, too. When they’d been riding for some hours in the darkness, the man whom Springbuck had set out at point returned, telling of the approach of a large body of riders. He had his companions dismount and move with their horses into the canopied blackness of the trees at the side of the road. Together they stood, each holding his horse’s bridle, as a full squadron of heavy cavalry clattered past. Those troops rode quickly, not as those who search for outlaws or renegades, but as if on a long and urgent journey. The baby began to cry and the woman holding her was forced to clasp a hand over its mouth.
The fugitives regained the road
and moved on, traveling as quietly as possible through the ranks of the brooding forest. Now the point man rode with muffled hooves. Twice more during the night they were forced to avoid oncoming bodies of soldiery, a small group of armored knights and, close to dawn, a battalion of foot.
At their last unscheduled pause Van Duyn whispered, “Odd, all these men on the road at night.”
Springbuck sighed. “Strongblade and Fania call their supporters to them at speed,” he said softly over the dwindling sound of marching buskins. “But they’ll have few enough from the east, where we’re going. News of Hightower’s death must have stirred up those parts already. If there’s to be an uprising, its kindling spark will come from the eastern provinces. Mayhap we ought to take our stand there.”
Andre said, “Save the extreme East, no other region in Coramonde will take arms against the throne for the time being, until we’ve primed them for it. And there are those in the southwest and northwest who would rejoice to plunder the rich lands near the Keel of Heaven. We must leave this country and organize puissant aid if we’re to be of any use to your people, young Heir. We mustn’t let haste make our hand go astray or spend itself too soon.”
Springbuck nodded, the gesture lost in the darkness. They were on their way again then, toward a ripening dawn. As they moved off the road for their second encampment, the Prince asked Andre, “What can you apprise me of the King of Freegate—called Reacher, is he not? I know little of him, though I’ve met some of his emissaries. Yet we hope to ally with him and you have his acquaintance. Tell me of him.”
To this the wizard agreed, and so they took the first two watches together, the better to carry on their conversation and conserve sleep time.
