by Andre Norton
I was interrupted by a loud thump from Mereth’s staff. She had been writing busily during our discussion, and now she held out a sheet of parchment to be read aloud by Duratan’s mate.
CHAPTER 32
Mereth–events at Lormt (2nd Day, Month of the Fringed Violet/ 1st Day, Moon of the Spotted Viper)
After Kasarian departed from Lormt, I worried every day. Even though Nolar’s dye had wrought a startling effect, transforming Kasarian’s silver-white hair to the dark brown of shredbark nut hulls, I could not totally convince myself that he would be accepted by Dalesfolk old enough to remember the horrors of the war. When he came to bid me farewell and claim Elsenar’s jewel, I surveyed him with apprehension. His newly darkened hair emphasized the Alizonian pallor of his skin, making his blue-green eyes all the more brilliant by contrast. I thought to myself that the only way to disguise Kasarian successfully would be to hide him out of sight in a large hamper. The garments that Mistress Bethalie had provided for him were entirely suitable for a trader’s apprentice. If only Kasarian did not have to move about! He could not mask his swordsman’s balance or his uncanny hearing. I had to hope that the combination of my letters to the tradesfolk and our tale of his mixed parentage would plausibly excuse Kasarian’s otherwise inexplicable attributes.
When I handed him Elsenar’s jewel, he did not clasp its chain around his neck, but instead tucked the pendant within an inner pocket of his tunic. I knew that for a magic-averse Alizonder, the jewel had to be an awful object, whose very touch must be loathsome . . . yet Kasarian was willing to risk his life to carry it across the sea and through the Dales. On an impulse, I wrote for him a travel blessing I had learned during my childhood years of residence with the Dames of Rishdale Abbey.
After Farris returned to Lormt we received only one other report concerning Kasarian’s progress. Nearly nine weeks later, early in the Month of the Crooknecked Fern, a scholar from Karsten arrived, bearing a message for me which he had been given in Es City when it became known that he was traveling to Lormt. The Es City merchant desired me to inform “Kasyar’s” master that his apprentice had reached Etsport on the Seventeenth Day of the Month of the Snow Bird, and had sailed for the Dales two days later on the Storm Seeker. I recalled that during my own voyage, Captain Halbec had mentioned that ship to me. He considered the Storm Seeker’s Captain Brannun to be one of his few fellow Sulcars whose ship and crew could safely dare the winter seas.
After that heartening word, silence prevailed for many anxious days. We pursued our search of Lormt’s documents from first light until dark, and past dark with the aid of lamps and candles. We discovered fragmentary confirmations for Elsenar’s journal accounts, and some evidence to support Kasarian’s version of Alizon’s early history; but we did not find any clear details or specific strategies that we might use against the Dark Forces from Escore now threatening both Alizon and Estcarp.
At least once a week, we gathered in Morfew’s study to observe Jonja and Duratan as they consulted their foretelling devices. Jonja explained to me that her runeboard could indicate, in a general sense, how Kasarian was faring. When she concentrated on Kasarian while touching her rune-board, should her moving fingers be halted upon a gold rune, then we might be assured that he was well; a red rune would disclose the presence of some limited peril; while a black rune would indicate mortal danger or death. Duratan said that his crystals could also display signs of external impediments or positive aids. All of us felt relieved when the first few runeboard readings and crystal castings seemed to show that Kasarian was proceeding without adverse interventions. Our concern intensified several times, however, when Jonja’s fingers stopped upon red runes, and Duratan’s crystals confirmed the existence of danger. Ouen reminded us that we had to expect Kasarian’s ship would encounter storms during any winter voyage to the Dales. Morfew suggested that the Storm Seeker would likely require four to six weeks for its passage, depending upon the winds and the number and severity of the storms. We therefore calculated that Kasarian should have arrived at Vennesport late in the Month of the Hawk, or possibly early in the Month of the Crooknecked Fern.
As those intervening weeks crept by, we were lulled by the repeated appearance of gold runes and positive crystal readings. Then suddenly, on the last day of the Month of the Crooknecked Fern, when Jonja ran her fingers across her rune-board, they halted on a black rune. Duratan, grim-faced, cast his crystals, and exclaimed with evident frustration, “Kasarian is in danger—but from what? I see two sources of Power confronting him, but both are of the Light. . . .”
“Elsenar!” Nolar’s voice shook with excitement. “Kasarian must have located the ruins, and by means of Elsenar’s jewel, the mage has been revived. Would not both mage and jewel show as Forces of the Light?”
Jonja’s expression remained bleak. “Until the dominance of the black rune loses its hold,” she declared, “I shall stay here with my board.”
To our puzzlement, neither indicator changed that night, or the next day, despite repeated consultations, but in the late afternoon of the Second Day of the Month of the Fringed Violet, Jonja gave a strangled cry, and slumped forward in her chair. Alarmed, Nolar took her hand, but after only a few moments, Jonja shuddered and opened her eyes.
“I have received a Sending from Elsenar,” Jonja announced. She pressed a hand to her forehead, as if still dazed. “Compared to this, the Witches’ Sendings were a mere whisper in my mind; Elsenar’s Sending bears the force of a shout! I shall have to brew a remedy for this resulting ache . . . but I have no time for such. We must ready a horse—no, two horses.”
Nolar gently pressed a cup of barley water into Jonja’s hand. “Refresh yourself first,” she suggested, but the Wise Woman spurned the drink, setting it to one side.
“We must make haste!” Jonja urged. “Elsenar intends to return Kasarian to Lormt through the same postern by which he traveled a thousand years ago.”
Morfew absentmindedly drank the barley water, then remarked, “But all we know about the site of the forester’s lodge where Elsenar worked his postern spell is that it was within a day’s ride of Lormt.”
“Elsenar assured me that I could determine the place,” Jonja replied. “He knew about my talents from Kasarian. I sensed the mage’s intention to take immediate action. It may well be that Kasarian has already accomplished the transit. Judging by the speed of the displacement from Alizon City to Lormt, we must assume that this far longer distance would still be bridged magically with great brevity.”
Duratan swept his crystals back into his hand and tossed them again onto the table. As they scattered, the shining blue stones crisply outlined a wedge pointing to the southeast. Scooping up the crystals, Duratan rose to his feet. “I shall see to the horses,” he said. “Our initial direction is clear.”
Also standing, Jonja clutched her rune-board. “I will ride with you,” she asserted. “We must hurry. Kasarian may be stunned by his transit. What if he emerges impaired and stumbles into a ravine?”
Preceding her toward the door, Duratan said, “We shall discover his condition only when we find him.”
The late Spring twilight was fading when they brought Kasarian back to Lormt. I watched from a doorway opening onto the great courtyard as Duratan’s horse approached, bearing a double burden. Duratan was mounted on the loin behind the saddle, his arms extended to support the senseless Alizonder. Master Wessell hurried past me to help carry Kasarian inside. Although the injuries to my legs had healed, I still had some difficulty in walking, and was obliged to rely upon the clever wheeled chair that Master Wessell had constructed for me. I could thus be fairly easily pushed about on the ground floor, but I required someone to lift me bodily up and down stairs. It was for that reason that we had changed our meeting place to Morfew’s study from Ouen’s upstairs quarters.
Jonja did not allow us to confer with Kasarian until the next day, providing him time to recover his strength. With barely contained impatience, we gathered in Morfew�
�s study. When the old scholar escorted Kasarian between the towering stacks of scrolls and documents, I thought Kasarian appeared even more gaunt than when he had left Lormt, but he moved with the same singular grace. Taking his seat at Morfew’s worktable, Kasarian related to us the details of his astonishing journey.
After our spirited reaction and discussion of what responses we should make, Kasarian surprised me by openly recognizing actual positive advantages in our traditions of oath-keeping and mutual trust. He conceded that in view of the Escorian threat to us all, each of us—Estcarpian, Alizonian, or Dalesman—might be forced to change our traditional thinking.
At that point, I thumped my staff on the floor to attract the company’s attention. Nolar read aloud my urgent query: “Can we be certain that we are aware of all of the posterns bespelled in ancient times? We know of only two posterns set by Elsenar—the one from Narvok’s lair to Lormt, which has been destroyed, and the one from Lormt to Krevonel Castle, which is restricted to those of Elsenar’s blood—but might not he and perhaps other mages from Escore, of the Dark as well as of the Light, have set similar postern spells in the past?”
Morfew frowned. “Pray also do not forget the Gates,” he admonished. “The Gate through which our Foresires came to found Alizon was sealed by Elsenar, and the Master Gate which was attempted here at Lormt was abolished, but there have been other Gates. I understand that Simon Tregarth himself came to Estcarp through a Gate that opened near the border with Alizon. The Kolder came through yet another Gate that was blessedly shut behind them, but Kasarian has told us that the remnant Kolder in Alizon desired to conjure a new Gate in order to replenish their numbers. We must consider the likelihood of the hidden presence of Gates as well as posterns.”
Kasarian’s face had blanched. During Nolar’s reading and Morfew’s alarming remarks, Kasarian had been sitting motionless, not even twisting his restored signet ring. “While Elsenar meddled in my mind,” he said in a bitter tone, “I also became aware of some of his thoughts. At first, I did not recall the details of that . . . unnatural experience, but now that you discuss the matter of Gates and posterns, I remember certain of Elsenar’s thoughts concerning such things.” He gripped the edge of the table, his eyes flashing with anger. “There were other postern spells—but it is like hearing echoes in a cave! I cannot fully grasp his thoughts, but I know that Elsenar possessed knowledge of other posterns and possibly other Gates.” Kasarian paused, then added slowly, “If other accursed magical openings exist into Alizon from Escore, then the danger is even worse than we earlier imagined. I beg you to seek any word in Lormt’s archives that could tell us how such horrors might be detected and sealed off!”
“The danger you rightly perceive,” Duratan said grimly, “is not limited to Alizon alone. Consider, my friends, what might befall Estcarp should the present-day Dark mages become aware of any former passage-ways bespelled in ancient times between Escore and Estcarp? Or, for that matter, if they determine to conjure such a postern now for the purposes of invasion?”
I handed Nolar another written query. She read aloud for me, “Should we not send an immediate warning to the Council of Witches in Es City? Surely this new realization of an added dimension to the threat from Escore must be conveyed to them.”
“I fear,” Ouen said, his voice sharp with regret, “that any warning from Lormt would be doubly discredited by the Witches. They have ever scorned us for our maleness, and they would be all the more offended, if not outraged, that the original source of our warning is an Alizonder baron.”
“We must also remember the Witches’ painfully diminished strength,” Nolar observed sorrowfully. “Even should they pay heed to us, I fear they could not mount any significant countermeasures. Despite frantic efforts to train new Witches, the Council has not yet restored the awful losses they incurred during the Turning.”
Grasping for the slightest of encouragements, Morfew ventured, “Perhaps Estcarp’s existing spell-watch along the border with Alizon could be strengthened to some degree.”
Jonja’s face, too, had paled. “I could attempt to establish a Sending to Es City,” she offered. “Just before the Turning, the Council of Witches warned us here at Lormt so that we might take some advance precautions. I received their Sending. They maintain a constant mental watch at Es Castle; I might be able to reach that Watch Witch. I must tell you frankly, however, that I doubt a call from Lormt would be accepted.”
“We could send a written message,” Nolar began, but Duratan interrupted her. “During the prolonged clashes with Karsten,” he said, “I served with the Witches as a Borderer. I believe that I could present our case to better effect if I rode to Es City and faced the Council.”
“I shall accompany you,” Jonja declared. “In the Witches’ sight, I may be considered less than those who devote themselves exclusively to mastering the uses of Power. Although my talents are limited to treating the ills of the body and spirit, as an undefiled female, I may stand before the Council without apology. When Estcarp’s very life is vulnerable to so grave a threat, the Council cannot refuse to listen to us.”
Kasarian smiled ruefully. “I would request to ride with you,” he said, “but I perceive I would be no more welcome at Es Castle than would be a Witch who craved audience before our Lord Baron. It occurs to me that my original warning might impress the Witches more favorably were it not obtained voluntarily. Pray inform the Council of Witches that I betrayed my tale to you unwittingly while your captive and ill with fever.”
Nolar shook her head. “A wise person takes care to speak the truth to Witches,” she advised. “They can discern any efforts to deceive them.”
I handed her another sheet of parchment so that she might read my plea. “Those of us who remain at Lormt must begin without delay to seek any other scraps of writing that may have been left here by Elsenar. Earlier, we found part of his journal. Surely additional documents of his may yet be discovered—perhaps some which identify the sites of other posterns or Gates.”
Ouen pushed back his chair. “Morfew and I will compose a corroborative letter,” he said decisively. “Since this day is already far advanced, Duratan and Jonja will desire to depart for Es Castle early on the morrow. Meanwhile, we must indeed act upon Mereth’s apt injunction. I shall ask all able scholars to join in our search. Any documents bearing Elsenar’s unreadable hand will be fetched at once to Mereth for her transcription. May we be guided by the Light in these vital tasks!”
CHAPTER 33
Kasarian–events at Lormt (2nd Day, Moon of the Spotted Viper/ 3rd Day, Month of the Fringed Violet)
Mereth raised a devastating question: might there be other sorcerous posterns existing from ancient times? Morfew compounded the horror by reminding us of those far more substantial magical openings, the Gates, which led to and from strange, unthinkably distant sites such as the place whence Simon Tregarth sprang, or the hideous home nest of the Kolder. I exhorted the Lormt folk to plunder their archives for any word that might instruct us how to locate and seal such frightful breaches.
As I listened to their subsequent discussion on how to warn Estcarp’s Witches, my feelings were violently at odds. The very notion of meeting with those redoubtable crones made my skin crawl . . . yet I had to acknowledge the perverse sense of Gurborian’s own argument which I had overheard in Alizon Castle. When detestable magical forces were arrayed against you, was it not far better to have similarly empowered forces acting in your defense? Gurborian had schemed to pit Escore’s Dark mages against Estcarp’s Witches; surely I must admit the advantages of the reverse case. If Estcarp’s Witches could be marshaled—however weakened they might be—to respond on our behalf in countering the Escorian threat, then our faction would at least possess some magical Power to turn aside the horrid assaults we must expect to endure. I was privately much relieved that the Lormt folk renounced my participation in the mission to warn Estcarp’s Council of Witches.
As the Lormt folk arose to address their
individual tasks, I accosted Duratan’s mate. Before I could return to Alizon, I had to make a vital request. “If you would assist me, Lady,” I said, “I should be grateful. I cannot appear at Krevonel Castle with my hair in this garish state.”
Somewhat to my surprise, Duratan’s mate smiled. “It seems almost a pity to bleach it,” she remarked. “You make a distinguished appearance with dark hair. . . .” Before I could protest, she hastily added, “I shall ask Master Pruett whether the silver nettle preparation we used to lighten Mereth’s hair can reverse the effects wrought by my shred-bark dye. Come along with me and we shall attempt to recover your proper baronial guise.”
Several times during the acrid herbal drenching that followed, I half-suspected I might drown. To my considerable relief, however, once I wiped the last of the rinsing water from my eyes, I saw from my reflection in the silver tray that my hair had been restored to its natural Alizonian hue.
After I had dried myself to a presentable state, I hurried back to Morfew’s chambers, where I found Mereth and Morfew diligently sorting through heaps of documents.
Morfew glanced up at me when I entered, and nodded in approval. “I must say,” he observed, “I prefer your authentic aspect. If you are determined to go back to Krevonel without being attacked on sight, you certainly could not bear that remarkable coloration suited to a Dalesman.”
“It is imperative that I return to Alizon,” I asserted. “I must strive to counter at their source those forces which seek to destroy our land. Just as your work lies here among Lormt’s archives, so mine awaits me at Krevonel.” I hesitated, reluctant to raise the subject. “I regret that in my unnatural passage through Elsenar’s postern from the Dales, I have lost my trader’s wallet containing the silver bars given me by Lord Ouen.”
