The Warding of Witch World

by Andre Norton

  Mouse’s sweet trill of laughter sounded.

  “And to you, Voice of the One in Three. Of old we have never clasped hands—but a new day is with us.” Now she took another two steps forward, her blazing stone resting on her flattened palm, and the other moved as swiftly to meet her, so that when their hands touched, their signs of Power rested one upon the other.

  Then the radiance and its Power aura was gone and they were but girl-child and young woman looking peacefully happy, while around the legs of the girl the large black cat wove back and forth purring.

  Mouse reached out to Liara, whom the giant had set partly on the ground, though he still supported her.

  “Welcome back to us—for all of us are one. So it has been set.”

  “I am of the blood of your enemies, and perhaps . . . more!” It was as if Liara were forcing those words out in warning.

  Mouse laughed again and gave a small flip of her hand backward to indicate the company who had drawn in there.

  “We are many things, and each of us has a strength which is needed. Look upon us—do we wear the battle masks of enemies?”

  Keris saw Liara draw a deep breath. Somehow her hands went out and the giant loosed his hold on her, so that she tottered forward close enough that Mouse embraced her and whispered something which brought the Alizondern girl’s head up, banished the shadow of uncertainty from her gaunt face.

  Suddenly she shook free of Mouse’s hold, retreating to catch once more at the arm of the giant.

  “This is—” she began, and there was a shading of defiance in her voice.

  “Gruck, Guardsman of Alatar in another place and time.” To Keris’s surprise, Mouse promptly named the giant. She might have known him as well as the Lord Romar. “There are in all worlds those that serve Light, and with that in their heart they know each other. And this be Chief”—she indicated the cat—“mighty warrior, also from beyond.”

  She had been approaching the giant, looking very small and frail against the hairy tower of his great body. Now she was looking up into his face and there was no longer any lightness in her words.

  “There may not be any return for you, Guardsman. Nowhere have we any record that those who have come to us through a gate have found their way home again.” Her small hand stroked the kinky fur of his forearm. Had he been of Liara’s size, she might almost have taken him also into her embrace—or so Keris thought at that moment.

  Gruck’s other hand completely hid hers, and then he lowered his massive head and brought her small finger up to his lips. Those parted and a purple tongue tip protruded long enough to touch her flesh. That the giant was rendering some formal salute was apparent.

  As they moved on to where the travelers had piled their packs above the stairs, only Mouse stayed close to the new arrivals. The trip up the stairs had been so exhausting and had taken so long that night was well on its way.

  Shouldering the packs, they headed for that bit of green, still visible in the twilight, into which all their four-footed companions had vanished much earlier.

  What they found when they came to the edge of a drop—for it became plain that what they viewed were the tops of growth and that the level of the ground fell here—was a valley which was certainly larger than they had foreseen.

  A stream ran through it and two of the Torgians, looking hardly the size of the ponies from this height, were standing hock-deep in the flood, dipping their noses in now and then for a quick gulp. The rest of the animals were spread out, grazing avidly, and the look of the grass from above suggested that here was better fare than they had had for some time.

  The slope downward was easy enough after facing the stairs, and the sight of water brought them all down it at a good pace.

  Keris doffed his helm and thrust his whole head into the clear waters of that stream. When he sat back on his heels and looked around him, he noted something strange about this oasis of growth and water among the rocks.

  In the first place there were no trees, nor any sign of brush except when the slopes in some places gave way to the valley floor. Also it seemed in some manner . . . shaped. Shaking his wet head, he had a sudden impossible vision of a giant spoon being used to scrape out this hollow.

  In addition—they had suffered so much from such attacks in the wooded lands below that they were now accepting such as a normal part of life—there were no biting insects. None of the grazing animals flicked a tail or threw up a head to deter the attention of those flies which had been the bane of their existence only three days earlier.

  Nor were there any birds. The falcons rode the saddle perches, but there was no other winged life to be seen.

  A shape moved out of the dusk to kneel not too far away. It was the giant. Though he had both huge hands in the stream, he was not apparently engaged in washing. Instead he grabbed handfuls of a shoreline plant, thick of leaf, which when disturbed gave forth a pungent though not unpleasant scent.

  Heaping his harvest beside him, Gruck selected one clump, swirled it again in the water beyond where his occupation had muddied it, and champed it between his great teeth with apparent satisfaction. He caught Keris in his sight and immediately tossed some of his crop in the Escorian’s direction.

  Keris knew something of herb lore. No one of the Green Valley could escape schooling in such. And he thought he recognized here a water plant, difficult to find in his own land, but which could be safely eaten by the traveler. Breaking off several of the tough leaves, he washed them as Gruck had done and chewed.

  The taste seemed to be a medley of flavors, and was, after living on trail rations, doubly palatable. He nodded his thanks to the giant and hastened to pull free another mouthful.

  From eating he turned to harvesting, and with their hands high-piled and dripping, they brought this find back to the camp. Nor were they the only ones who had benefited from exploration of the countryside. The two Borderers, who had gone off to make sure that the Torgians were safely accounted for, came back carrying their helms filled like buckets to the brim with stone-centered fruit, each as big as one of Gruck’s thumbs.

  As they shared these around, Keris saw the girl Destree, whom Mouse welcomed as an equal, was quietly collecting the discarded stones. Keris had two in his hand and offered them to her instead of pitching them back into the grass, and she smiled and nodded.

  “Bounty must be ever returned,” she said. Keris recognized another version of his mother Dahaun’s Power. If one accepted the fruits of the earth, then one must return something of equal value. No plant was harvested in his home valley that an offering was not placed where its roots held deep. And he could guess that with the coming of light in the morning she would plant again all the stones of the eaten fruit.

  There was no way of making a fire here. Oddly enough, dusk seemed to last for a long time, so that they were not separated in the dark but could see each other. Nor did there seem any reason here to set a watch, with the animals grazing about to sound any alarm.

  “This is,” said Lord Romar, working on the mending of his mail, “a place set aside . . .”

  “It is like a place of the Old Ones, those who walk now among the stars yet would touch earth to keep green memory,” replied the Lady Eleeri.

  Even as she spoke, there was a sudden light flash in the heavens toward the south. Instantly Keris felt a troubling. It was as if far off someone touched a thread, quickly, quietly, testing. . . .

  Mouse, who had drawn a little apart, after her fashion, to await any message which might come, stood, a shadow among shadows, watching where that falling star had shone.

  “We are,” she said slowly, “where my Power does not work. For there are two Powers ancient in this world. Mine which is inborn and yet must be sharpened by training and ever added to by learning, and yours, sister”—she turned her head a little and Keris thought she spoke to Destree now—“which is of the earth and all it holds. Is this not a land in which your Lady might happily have her being?”

  “Y
es,” Destree answered. “Therefore, sister, it becomes my duty to call.”

  Was it a call, or a song? Keris could not have answered that. With it arose an ever-increasing purr which somehow he could not decide was Gruck paying tribute to something he, too, well understood, or the cat at ease with life.

  They had not yet explored the full of the plateau. The valley had engulfed them, lulled them to the rest they needed. However, one end of that valley pointed to the south and just as they had sighted the falling star, so did now another light arise.

  Someone might have lit there a signal fire—in this woodless country! First came a shaft of pearly smoke, very visible in spite of the dark, a column seeking to level with the greater heights around them. Then that smooth shaft appeared to answer to winds they themselves did not feel and it curved to point, not to the sky, but to what lay beyond, ahead of that point of rock.

  For a moment out of time it held so, and then it was gone. But all of them knew that they had their answer. Two kinds of Power: one had started them on this journey, now another would send them farther on.

  Destree had ceased her call when the plume of smoke first appeared. Now she spoke with authority. “There we are sent, for you are as much caught up in this summoning as are the three of us. We can only obey.”

  There was no more speech among them. All hauled out their bedrolls, providing what they could for the three least well prepared. While overhead no star moved.

  Keris slipped his weapon belt within a hand’s distance. There had been no break in the feeling of peace here, neither was that peace any ploy of the Dark to take them unawares. Yet somehow he was better able to sleep with his hand upon it. There was movement in the dark farther out; the animals seemed to be drawing in toward the camp. Had Jasta, the Keplians, seen those signs? He did not believe that even the Lady Eleeri knew Theela and her kin well enough to answer, and one did not question the Renthans on the subject of Power—for they had their particular share of it also.

  The peace of the valley seemed also to be soporific, as the sun was warm when the sleepers began to rouse. They did so slowly, as if some of the urgency which had ruled them in every morning camp before had been allayed.

  There was no hurry about moving out, either—no one mentioned any such need. The party split into two, the smaller group consisting of the Lady Eleeri, Liara, Destree, and Mouse, heading westward to a quiet pool near which Gruck had done his harvesting the night before. The men, in the other group, stripped off gear and too-well-worn clothing at a point beyond a stand of the fruit bushes to the east.

  Keris had expected the water to be chill this high in the mountains, but it was no more brisk than one of the Valley pools and as freshening to his body. Gruck did not follow them into the stream, but from that many-looped belt of his he brought out a tool which opened into a comb, which he began to use, having dipped it in the water, to curry his thick hair. Keris, emerging from the stream and drying himself as best he could on an undershirt he had discarded, watched this toilet for a moment or two. Then, feeling some wariness, he went to the giant and motioned from the busily stroking comb to the back and shoulders which Gruck, short of a snake’s limber contortions, could not reach.

  The giant nodded and handed over his comb at once for Keris to set to work. This was rather like grooming one of the Torgians and yet under the strokes of the heavy metal teeth the hair was far closer to a kind of thick fur than unclipped horsehide.

  Also, though there was a light musky scent, it was not as heavy as that left behind after thorough work on a mount. As Keris was busied with his voluntary task, the giant reached for a heaped pile of small plants which he had apparently assembled before he had begun the combing. Unhooking an intricate clasp, he laid aside that heavy belt with all its appliances and stretched it carefully out on the grass before he crushed the leaves and began to run them over his body as one might apply soap.

  Emboldened, Keris nudged one of those large shoulders and reached for some of the pulp, trying to apply it carefully to the portions he had curried.

  Good to be clean.

  He was used to mind-send, though this was on a new level. But somehow the words startled the Escorian.

  “Good,” he agreed quickly enough.

  “You’re making a good job of it, fledgling!” Keris looked at Krispin, who was holding up a much-creased and yet fresh body shirt, trying to shake it free of the worst wrinkles before he put it on. Having dragged it over his head and tucked it into breeches still wet from a vigorous sloshing in the stream, he settled down beside them, his eyes on that belt.

  “You bear strange weapons, brother-in-arms,” the Falconer said to the giant. “For I must think that some of this you carry is indeed weapons.”

  Again came that slight off-center mind-send. I wear guardsman’s gear, birdman. But he offered no further explanation. Krispin hesitated, still staring at the belt, and then shrugged. If this new member of the party wished to keep his own counsel, let him. It was the right of every man to speak or keep silent as he wished.

  They gathered back by the open packs again and set around reassembling them. There were no ponies now and Keris was well aware that a war-trained Torgian could not be emburdened. As for the Keplians and Jasta, he could not imagine them submitting to such usage.

  He noted that the Voice of Gunnora and Mouse had drawn aside and that they were joined after a moment by not only the Lady Eleeri but Theela, the Keplian, as well as the cat Chief. All were facing toward the point of the wedge-shaped plateau, due south as far as Keris could judge, and though he could not see that they spoke one to the other, they could be thought-joined in some business of the Power.

  It calls. Destree need not have put that into thought. She knew that those with her realized that drawing which was growing stronger, even as she did.

  And—Mouse’s hands cupped her jewel as if to hide it from the light of day—time grows short. Our way lies there.

  So they moved out, reluctantly—and rightly. For as they came up out of the depression of that place of peace, they were all seized again by the need for haste, with a foreboding which grew the stronger as they approached the point. The Borderers and the Falconers kept the reins of their mounts, while the Keplians and Jasta trotted free. At the Falconers’ signals their birds soared up and out, heading south at far greater speed and with better vision than the party below.

  They had managed from what was left of their supplies to cobble a pair of boots for Liara, and she kept close to the giant, insisting on shouldering a pack the doubtful Destree allowed her.

  Krispin suddenly shook his head so that his helm’s falcon crest took on a tiny vestige of life. “There is land below and a great forest,” he reported Farwing’s sending.

  Only a short time later they came to the point of the wedge. Land below, yes, and by the dense green look of it completely overgrown. But—they stood on the verge of a cliff. There was no stairway waiting here, nothing but sheer rock, and between them and the green of the land below floated wisps which might even be low-lying clouds.

  Vorick exploded with an oath. “We do not have wings,” he spat out the obvious.

  “But there is a road waiting!” The young Keplian stallion Janner suddenly pushed past the Borderer and his horse and trotted out—

  On air! Yet he did not fall, but rather moved parallel with the point of the cliff as if he trod a road as well kept as an Estcarpian highway. Vorick’s horse tossed his head and neighed, pulling at the reins the startled Falconer still kept tightly held.

  “There’s nothing there!” Krispin protested, and fought to keep his own horse back from the edge.

  Keris shed his pack. Perhaps for someone used to the surprises which could turn up in Escore this was nothing too startling, but he found it very hard to make himself keep his eyes on Janner, the ambling cat, and then Theela and Sebra frisking along with nothing under their feet. Jasta now moved up beside him and Keris flung up an arm to stop his regular comrade in arms.r />
  “What do you see?” he demanded. Around him the others were having trouble with their Torgians, who seemed intent on following the Keplians even though usually the two species kept well apart.

  *A road,* Jasta returned without a moment’s hesitation.

  Keris threw himself belly down and forced himself to crawl to the seeming knife edge of that monsterous cliff. Clinging as best he could to the stone on which he lay, he stretched out his right arm and swept it through the air. His fist struck painfully against a solid object which his sight assured him was not there.

  It seemed that he was not alone in his exploration. Though most of the others were trying to herd the horses back, he saw Mouse and Destree follow his own feat of wriggling forward and reaching out. Then both the witch and the Voice apparently were moved by a shared idea, for they swung their Power jewel and amulet out into space.

  Keris heard the click of each strike a firm surface, but there was no manifestation of the Power in answer—no lighting up of either jewel.

  Mouse slipped back. “There is something there, but it is not for our eyes.”

  The Lady Eleeri stood up and whistled, a clear, carrying sound. Below, Theela’s ears flicked. Whatever footing gave her support manifestly led down. The mare was already past at least two-thirds of the cliff face. But now she wheeled and came trotting back. The rest of her clan and Jasta followed. Chief paid no heed to a summons he apparently believed was not for him.

  Lord Romar stooped and picked up a pebble, flipping it out. It hit to bounce and then pitch out into space and fall. Watching it go was not a pleasant suggestion of what might happen to one taking such a path blindly.

  In the end, even as they had climbed the stairs at the other end of the plateau, so now they were condemned to a similar way of proceeding—in reverse. For where men had urged the Torgians up those steps sweating out a fear of a misstep, so now they clung again to their horses and tried not to look down at a road that was not to be there.

  The Keplians took their superiority in the matter as only a just tribute to their species and the four women became their charges, edging out, with the cliff nearly brushing their shoulders as they took one cautious step after another.