“Just relax and open your mind as much as you can. When you’re ready, raise your hand.”
Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Carl raised an arm. Almost immediately, his body jerked spasmodically and froze in muscular rigidity. Within a brief span, sweat began to bead up on his forehead and his face paled.
Although he trusted Balthazar implicitly, Jeff became concerned as minutes passed and Carl remained frozen. Muscles bunched around his jaw stood out like ropes, and sweat ran in rivulets from his face. Every so often, agonized groans escaped his lips. As concern was growing to outright alarm, Carl relaxed and fell over on his side with a thump.
“He is sleeping and must be allowed to do so,” Balthazar said to Jeff. “He has had a difficult trial, but mastered himself so that we might succeed. ‘Carl’ is a brave human and worthy packmate. When he awakens, assure him that our work was not damaging.”
When Jeff went in search of a blanket to cover Carl with, Balthazar directed an amused thought at Cynic.
“You have a mind we can appreciate, horse-brother. Do you still believe we would eat you?”
Cynic looked directly at Balthazar. “I no longer doubt your intent, wolf-who-may-be-brother, but will you speak for all of your kin?”
After a period of trading slams with Cynic, Balthazar turned his attention back to Jeff. His humorous bent of mind gave way to one that was deadly serious,
“Come into our mind, brother, and learn what you must.”
A combination of Alarai minds working with and through the wolf burst into his brain. Forces beyond previous conception filled it to overflowing until Jeff thought his skull would split. At several points the pain was so bad he was afraid it might kill him.
“We are an old people even by our accounting, Jeffrey Friedrick, and have resided on this planet for many ages. Our origins are lost in time, although some relate that we came from the stars in great ships. The machines that still serve us in our travels lend support to this possibility. How it is that many of us also came to live on Earth and labor for its welfare is not documented, and also escapes myth.
“You are descended from these Alarai through your grandmother’s line. While intermarriage has diluted such descent, in you our blood runs nearly true. It was Gaereth, the Alarai you met as a child, that uncovered your lineage.”
The common voice took on a wry cast. “Always has Gaereth enjoyed and employed his particular humor, if also always to commendable ends. It is thus not remarkable that we find similar traits in you and in those you associate with, for Gaereth is your grandfather seven times removed.”
Gaereth his grandfather? Jeff’s mind went blank with shock. Seven times removed would make him over two hundred years old! That’s got to be a fairy tale. Such things just don’t happen in real life. Then he thought, You mean, like getting transported to another planet?
The Alarai let it sink in for a few moments before continuing. “On the day you met in the forest, Gaereth buried in your mind that which led you to Aketti. He understood even then that, given your heritage, you were unlikely to find a place among earth’s humans. For the abrupt and destructive manner in which you were ripped from Earth, we apologize, but of needs we were forced to employ the vast energies of the earthquake. While we had no intention of transporting Carl, and are shamed that he was taken, his presence speaks of more than chance.”
A large flag waved for attention in the back of Jeff’s mind. “If Alarai remain on Earth, why was it necessary to bring me here? And if it was necessary for some reason, why did you not employ your machines?” A final question that had been jostling for position found expression. “Why was I not given warning or choice?”
The combined Alarai mind pulled back, and Jeff got the sense that an ad hoc conference had been called. Mentally crossing his arms, he nodded to himself and thought, Well now, boys and girls—having a little trouble with that one?
“Forgive our silence. It must seem that we dissemble to avoid revealing motive, but this is not our intent. Rather, there is so much we would communicate and this meeting made so precarious by distance. We find it difficult to select words that will convey fact without implying deception. However and briefly, for we would not do injury to our wolf-brother’s mind by prolonged conversation, you were not transported by machine because we were not certain that your mind could be attuned to its function. While you are of the Alarai, your blood is also influenced by many generations that are not. Thus we were forced to utilize the earthquake.
“But our wolf-brother’s peril grows. Jeffrey, we sense your unease and distrust. Do you doubt that your life on Earth was desperately unhappy? Or that it would have been otherwise in the absence of your meeting with Gaereth?”
A moment’s reflection and Jeff knew the answer to those questions: not a chance.
“Just so. We are, you belong to, an ancient people whose lives have been dedicated to serving others for untold centuries. Now we are few, but duty remains and catastrophe of untold proportion threatens Earth.”
Earth? What are they talking about? Jeff felt like his brain had turned inside out. “Then why in God’s name did you bring me here?”
Before any reply was possible, the link nearly crumbled and Balthazar collapsed onto his belly.
“Quickly now! We are few, crisis looms first on Aketti, and you must come into full maturity before contemplating a return to Earth. Always we have been close to the Alemanni, for so we named the yellow-hairs after an ancient people of Earth. You and they discovered each other, now your fates intertwine. Lead them and find your destiny, Jeffrey.
“Finally, given our numbers, can you not understand that we must search out every man and woman of good will whether of the Alarai or not? Can you not see what must be done? You are both Alarai and not!
“In the spring, Gaereth returns to us and will seek you out. Then you will learn much more. Until we speak again, Jeffrey Friedrick, may the gods that look over us all protect and guide you.”
The connection dissolved and Jeff tumbled into a pile near Carl. Exhausted by his efforts, Balthazar sprawled onto his side. The remaining wolves curled up to keep watch.
Carl got as far as his knees. Bending over with a gasp of agony, he threw up. Wiping his mouth, he crawled to the woodpile, tossed some sticks onto remaining coals, and set water to heating.
“Oh shit it hurts. I’ve got to learn to keep my mouth shut.”
Blearily looking around the campsite, Carl noticed Jeff lying curled up and starting to twitch. The wolves were gone. Carl got to his feet in slow stages, nearly fell down, and had to lean over with hands on knees until his head stopped spinning.
“Coffee,” he mumbled, “got to have coffee.”
He made it to the saddlebags in short stages, and nudged Jeff with a boot on his way back to the fire with a bag of grounds. Carl stared at the pot, willing it to boil, but had to settle for sniffing the bag.
“If you are going to feed yourself, why not me?”
“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute, will you?” Carl snarled. He had put the lid back on from checking the water for the umpteenth time when it hit him. Whirling too fast, he grabbed his head with a groan and stared at Cynic. “What did you say?”
The horse just stared at him as if he were a hopeless cretin.
“Okay, okay, let’s try this again.”
Focusing his mind, Carl directed what he hoped was a thought in Cynic’s direction. “What was that you said, big mouth?”
“I think the wolf should have thought longer before he opened your mind,” Cynic huffed, knowing an insult when he heard one.
His pain momentarily forgotten, Carl let out a jubilant shout. “By, damn! What do you know about that?” Carl grabbed his head again and started dry heaving.
Some minutes later he added coffee to boiling water and in a short while eased the pot from the fire. Carefully decanting a dark brew into metal cups, Carl added a dollop of fruit syrup to both. With the satisfaction of one who does not want to suf
fer alone, he noted Jeff crawling toward him with his eyes fastened on the cups, groaning under his breath as he came.
Civilized conversation was out of the question. They nursed their coffee and headaches in silence for some time before Carl spoke up.
“Some night, eh bucko?”
“Dammit, Carl, you don’t have to shout!”
A few minutes later, grimacing with pain, Jeff grunted belligerently, “Yeah, a hell of a night. I’m glad someone’s feeling enthusiastic about it.”
Having completed his mental ordeal well before Jeff’s, Carl’s headache was rapidly diminishing. He was able to smile equably as he poured another cup of coffee for them both.
“Now now, let’s not be that way.”
By late morning Jeff’s headache was gone and he felt capable of polite conversation. “I’ve been through something like this before, but compared to last night that first experience was nothing.” Jeff related the gist of what he had learned the previous night. “…So, it sounds like I was elected to act as proxy for the Alarai. Sort of a half-breed fill-in.”
“I think you may have missed the real point,” Carl replied with a vigorous shake of his head. “The Alarai are now so few that they face extinction. At the same time, everything is going to hell on two planets. What was their last comment, again?”
“Something to the effect that I belonged to two peoples.”
“Exactly. Pardon my saying it, but they also suggested you use your head and figure it out. It isn’t just one world, Jeff, it’s two. I think you were brought here as much for training as anything, and thank heavens I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“They did use the term crisis when talking about Aketti,” Jeff reflected, “and catastrophe when referring to Earth. There’s a big difference between those terms.”
“A very big difference. Maybe it’s going to take some folks who are really concerned but have no kinship with the Alarai?”
“Like yourself. Damn. I am so slow at times it makes me want to cringe.” There was no humor in his laugh. “They really don’t expect much of us, do they? Just get our shit together, whip the Salchek, then maybe recruit some bravos and see what can be done for Earth. You know—a little weekend outing, kick some butt and skip back here. No big deal.”
“Yeah, it does sort of take your breath away when you think about it,” Carl replied with an appreciative chuckle. “What are we going to do? Shake a finger under the noses of our esteemed leaders while giving them a tongue lashing?” Carl narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Here’s something else to think about—I’m really beginning to wonder if my being transported was an accident. From what you’ve related, it sounds like the Alarai aren’t sure themselves.”
“I think it’s more a matter of suspecting it wasn’t an accident. There is so much that we don’t know. If they didn’t bring you here, who did? There we were on Earth without a clue, now we’ve been handed two worlds to worry about and are still in the dark. It’s all so confusing I’m tempted to take what Gurthwin said about his gods at face value and invoke divine intervention.”
Carl did a little hop and let out a whoop. “Yeah, but what a task. What a time! And divine intervention? Considering everything that’s happened, why not? Wouldn’t that be something? Nothing to live for back on Earth, now all of this. Damn, it’s good to be alive!”
Not wanting to lose any more time in their race with the onset of fall, they hurried to the task of packing up. By evening they had emerged back onto the prairie and were jogging along paralleling the forest border as planned. Carl was delighted with his new ability and used passing weeks to sharpen its control.
While discussing their plans, he switched back and forth between telepathy and normal speech so often and randomly that he nearly drove Jeff to distraction. Cynic wasn’t spared, either, and soon threatened rebellion from the frequent teasing he suffered. When he judged the time was right, Jeff angled away to the west. Crossing farmland, they cut the south road from Rugen.
It was nearly dark when the top of Rugen’s wall appeared over the horizon. They picked up the pace, but the gate was locked tight when they arrived.
“Hoy the guard,” Jeff shouted through cupped hands.
A voice hailed back, “Who goes there?”
“I can’t believe he said that.” Carl laughed with delight. “Who goes there? This is great!”
“Yeah, I suppose so. It’s after dark and he has to challenge us, but some of the guards I’ve encountered are bloody idiots. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t take a shot at us.” Jeff shook his head in resignation, and bellowed, “Jeffrey Friedrick. I am expected and return from the South with important news. Open the gate.”
“Begone, ere I call out the guard. The city is closed to…uh, to vagabonds.”
“Whoa, this guy really is an idiot,” Carl murmured.
“Open the fucking gate,” Jeff shouted at the top of his lungs, “or I’m going to have your ass!”
“I think that might have gone right over his head, Jeff.”
Someone winded a bugle, and they heard what had to be a heated argument followed by a crash that reminded Carl of a cooking pot hitting stone.
“Ouch. That must have hurt!”
“About time. Sounds like the Corporal of the Guard showed up. Maybe we’ll get some action now.”
Within minutes, one panel of the massive gate opened with a vast groaning of hinges badly in need of grease.
“Welcome to Rugen, buddy.”
“Thanks, Jeff. I feel like I’m about to ride into Camelot.”
“You are. Khorgan is beautiful, but I truly love this city.”
A detachment of the city guard was waiting inside and escorted them to Ethbar’s residence. A newly laid fire was taking hold when they were ushered into the parlor and offered a cordial. The chairs were comfortable, the fire started to throw some heat, and Carl nodded off. Jeff poked him awake when Ethbar entered the room swaddled in a voluminous robe.
Getting to his feet, Jeff smiled with pleasure. “It gives me joy to see you again, Ethbar.”
“You have returned to us, Jeffrey. I am content.”
Rengeld clumped into the room. Striding over, a smile breaking the stern lines of his face, he clasped Jeff’s hand.
“Your presence warms this night beyond any expectation, my friend.”
Jeff introduced Carl and briefly explained their long friendship while waiting for chairs to be arranged so they could talk. Ethbar indicated they were to sit by doing so, and called for another round of wine.
“Although the hour is late, we deemed your return of such importance, and our impatience of such magnitude, that we contrived a brief meeting this night. I hope you do not find such presumption to be excessive.”
“Not at all. It was thoughtful of you both to greet us so cordially.” Jeff admired the wine’s golden color. Although somewhat acid, it was a welcome change from water. “As you point out, the hour is late. Allow me to draw a few broad strokes this evening to help along discussion on the morrow.”
“As we feared, the Salchek threat is real. Even as Carl and I set out for Rugen some six weeks ago, Salchek were moving north in what could only be preparation for the invasion of Khorgan. It will not entirely surprise you, I am sure, to hear that Arzak conspires to profit from the Salchek presence. I must also report that mighty Khorgan whimpers like a cur anticipating the booted heel.”
“I am surprised and saddened, Jeffrey. Khorgan is a fabled city.” Ethbar shrugged eloquently. “Still, such is the way of all things that ascend to greatness.”
Jeff nodded over steepled fingers. “Khorgan’s leaders have failed of their duty, and its citizens will pay dearly. I do not, however, bear only sad news. It has been our great fortune to encounter people of worth who have not lost the will to resist. Merchants of great experience and knowledge, I judge they will present themselves in caravan at these gates before the onset of winter.”
“That is good news, inde
ed, and timely.”
“Yes, these men will profit Rugen greatly.” Hands comfortably clasped across his stomach, Jeff nodded toward Carl. “Before we consider other matters, let me state in what high regard I hold Carl Jorgenson. When shortly I leave for the North to confederate its people in defense of their lands and of this city, Carl will remain to apply his vast experience in arcane studies to the benefit of Rugen. His is a knowledge not yet dreamed of in this land, knowledge which demands the closest attention.”
Ethbar smiled at Carl and leaned forward to poke at the fire. “I look forward to long converse, and will lend whatever authority is mine to assist your efforts.” Ethbar looked wistfully at his empty glass before handing it to a servant.
“Now, as you have suggested, Jeffrey, the Salchek presence does not come as a great surprise. My heart, however, is reassured beyond expectation by the balance of what you have related. It contains, I warrant, the seeds of hope.”
“Regardless of the Salchek invasion, if Rugen is to prosper over the years men like Rogelf and Belstan will be needed.”
“Without doubt, Jeffrey. Years of isolation are not easily overcome.”
“How do matters stand now?”
“In your absence, Rengeld and I have also been diligent. Imogo has been fully informed of your mission to the south. While concerned, he remains resistant to final acceptance of the Salchek presence. Moved by love for his family, I believe he is at least prepared to listen attentively to what you might say,” a grimace of disgust formed on Ethbar’s lips, “in spite of the counsel offered by a cabal of lick-spittle courtiers.” He smiled at Rengeld, who had been drumming his fingers on the chair since sitting down. “Perhaps you would relate your part?”
Virtually leaping from his chair, Rengeld clasped hands behind his back to give them something to do. “In truth, much has been accomplished. Yet much more remains in the balance. As we agreed before you departed, Jeffrey, Ethbar and I prepared a message and courier against the possibility of your late return. He was dispatched to our northern cousins’ moot in a timely fashion. I am hopeful they received him kindly.”
Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) Page 30
