by David Mason
Zadosh thought he did. However, it was… disturbing. It did not fit with some of his carefully arranged explanations of Daniel’s rebirth.
“You may be deluding yourself, lady,” Zadosh said. “Out of love for Egon… which cannot be wholly vanished from your mind, of course.”
“No, it is not,” she said in a low voice. “Never, wholly.”
“You see, then,” Zadosh said. “The mind deludes the eye, at times.” He put his hands behind his back and paced the garden path. “We know that a being is not truly one, but made of many different beings, linked in life. When a man dies, a part dies forever, another lives, but only for a little while; and another passes in time, into a new body. This last is the true self, the undying. It bears with it a sleeping memory of all that it has ever been… sleeping, because no man could bear to know all of his eternal past. Do you see?”
“I know what you believe,” she said.
“Perhaps, thousands of years from now, Daniel…” He stopped. “Perhaps Daniel and Egon were once the same man, do you see that?”
“They are not the same,” she said. “Not now, at any rate.”
Zadosh shrugged. “Does it truly matter?” he asked reasonably. “He is… whoever he is… himself. He was caught by the magic of the lost one, and brought here; yet, I do not think he will serve that one, ever. So the lost one has defeated his own ends, in that. Why should it matter who Daniel truly is?”
Ammi looked up, her eyes wide. “Because I am… with child.”
Zadosh stared at her and broke into a wide grin.
“Why not tell him?” he demanded.
“Because…” She made a helpless gesture. “I don’t know. It seems I don’t dare, yet. I don’t know why. But you must not tell him, either.”
Zadosh frowned slightly. “But… listen, lady Ammi. There is to be a matter in the Council, soon, of great importance. It is said that the little kingdoms in the valleys, and those farther to the east especially… they would aid Numith, if they did not fear Iskarth and Esmare more. Many soldiers, because though they are small nations, yet there are several of them… they could set upon the borders of Esmare to the east, and harry them, while we ourselves struck at Iskarth.”
“But they fear to do so,” she said contemptuously. “I have heard about it. You of Numith have made Kratonis and Mikalon wealthy, with your trade, but they cannot help. When Numith falls, it will be over for them, too, but… I wouldn’t want such friends.”
He shrugged. “They are… as they are. But it’s said that if the Lord Daniel himself went there, and showed them how he has given new strength to Numith… and another thing. He may convince them that Iskarth and Esmare wish to break down the wall, at the command of the lost one. This, they cannot yet believe.”
Ammi rose and stood looking at the darkening sky through the palm-tops. “Then, what woman would I be to tell him to stay here with me?” she said calmly. “He might wish to do that, if I speak of the child. So… I will not”
Balthon, King of Esmare, lay on his stomach on a table, his eyes closed. Two muscular young women pounded and rubbed him with great skill, and he groaned occasionally. Wine and food, as Balthon used them, should have long ago destroyed the King, had not such skilled hands preserved some tone in his body. But he was growing softer, and fatter, despite all help. His eyes betrayed him, ringed with dark circles at times.
He groaned again and rolled over, dismissing the women with a wave. He sat up and looked at the official, who waited patiently.
“So damnably early, good Hannik?” the King said, and groaned again. “Well… he is my cousin. Otherwise, I’d say he should be flayed and his skin nailed on the city gates. Six galleys gone, and nothing to show for it. All but a hand’s worth of men, slain or drowned. But he lives. There’s no justice to be had in the world, Hannik.” The King groaned again and took a deep draft from a cup beside him. “Send to say I will speak with him, in a little while. You, have my robe brought.” He snapped his fingers at a manservant, who returned a moment later with a scarlet robe. The King began to put it on slowly.
“Tell me again, Hannik,” he said, sitting down. “Though I should be angry, the tale’s too amusing.”
“It was Rorin found him,” Hannik said. “The Lord Ulff was caught, by these little people. When Rorin found him, he was caged, like a bear, naked, and…” Hannik coughed delicately. “It would seem that their females had done sundry things to him, in search of amusement, as such savage folk do.”
The King guffawed and wiped his eyes. “If I could but have seen it!” he chuckled. “Hannik, some day I must have a few of those small wenches for myself, and learn their tricks.”
“They are hard to catch, Lord,” Hannik said. “Well, because of a sudden earthquake, it was Lord Ulff’s good fortune to be left in his cage, alone, where Rorin found him. He released him, and these two, with such others as they found later, made their way back to Esmare.”
By the time the King sat once more in the chamber of audience, Balthon had regained sufficient composure to look down at Ulff and Rorin without a smile. It was an effort, however.
“More ships, you say?” Balthon asked. “So that you may anger the sea folk of the eastern sea again, and feed them on my men and weapons?”
Ulff opened his mouth, then remembered that he had sworn to be calm, and to allow Rorin to speak otherwise. He closed it firmly.
“Lord,” Rorin said, “the sea folk are divided among themselves, as you surely know. Some are against us, those who are with the Morra-ayar. But these will not attack us, either, because they do not like war. Others are our friends, servants of the Great One… but not unless we carry out his wishes.”
Balthon grunted impatiently. “If he is such a master of magic, why does he not do as he would, himself?” he asked. “Why must he always ask our service, and Iskarth’s? This war goes badly, in any case. We’ve gained nothing, and lost much.” He drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the throne’s arm, staring at Ulff.
“We must strike harder, and now,” Ulff said, harsh-voiced. “Or never again. They grow stronger in Numith, but the Lord Daniel, that magician who has helped them, is out of Numith, gone to the eastern kings as an ambassador. Give me what I need, Balthon, and I will destroy Numith, now.”
“Those who are friends of the Great One,” Rorin said slowly, “the sea folk of the western sea… they have promised to act with us, now, though they were unwilling before. Now, they will do more than only guide our ships.”
Balthon stood up and yawned, a little insultingly.
“I will give it thought,” he said. “You may depart, cousin.”
The two men went silently out into the columned halls. Ulff paced just ahead of Rorin, chewing his lip, his face a curious dark red color.
“The King is not in good health,” Rorin said at last, very softly. Ulff stared at him, hot-eyed.
“Others… especially the Brothers of the Mystery… feel that the King’s health grows worse,” Rorin said, still calm. “He drinks much wine. If he drank a vintage that would make him… ill, a new king might be chosen. If such a man took oath to serve the Brothers…”
“Once he was king, he might,” Ulff grated.
“Oh, no,” Rorin said, smiling. “Before. First, an oath, then… the king’s health may worsen, who knows?”
“It had better do so soon, or there’ll be another means!” Ulff snapped. He turned and glared back at the walls of the palace. “He laughed at me. He laughed!”
“No,” Rorin said, calmingly. “He did not laugh, Ulff. Not even a smile…”
“I’ll give him laughter enough, with a grin on his damned throat, though he is my own blood!” Ulff spat and turned away.
“It seems as if they have drawn back, for now,” Daniel said as he walked on the sea-front wall with Ammi. They had come here to the harbor’s edge, sightseeing. It was difficult for Daniel to appear in the streets without a crowd forming, but he had worn a hooded cape this time, that served t
o hide his face. Ammi wore one like it; the kind of clothing many farmers wore to market in the city. So, for a day at least, they had been able to walk like ordinary folk, to visit market places and see the wonders of Numith.
“Only a day,” Ammi said, looking out at the ships that lay along the stone quay.
For a moment, Daniel thought she meant the enemy had been gone for only a day, and he said, “Why, it’s been a week since… oh, I see.” He slipped his arm around her. “I’m sorry, girl, but there was so much to do, till now. And I want to make all the haste I can, to reach the east before more trouble begins.”
“I did not complain,” she said quietly. She stared at the dark water. “In Alvanir, it would be the season of the dancing, under the sea.”
“They do not do that, here,” Daniel said. “They are afraid, now. Some of the sea folk…”
A long time ago, Ammi thought, we in Alvanir would swim out to the deeper water, and the child would be born there… and the mother would return, holding the newborn up out of the waves. But that was long ago, and Alvanir was dying. She would never see it again, she thought.
“You must not look so grim,” Daniel said and smiled at her.
She looked back at him steadily.
“You dreamed, last night,” she said.
He nodded. “Did I call out again? I’m sorry. It was…” He shrugged. “We called it a nightmare, in my language, a ghostly horse on which a man rode in the night.” He chuckled. “A good way to put it. I dreamed… very realistically, too… that I was in the world I came from. I no longer liked being there, though. It seemed like a world of monsters. That must be why I cried out.”
She said nothing, but pressed his arm with her hand.
They sat on a stone cathead at the end of a deserted quay, watching the sun setting across the sea’s rim. There-were no more threatening masts out there; the galleys of Esmare were gone from this part of the sea, at least. But ships of Numith did not come and go as they had usually done; the harbor was quiet, still.
Then, suddenly, a ripple broke in the dark water, nearly at their feet. A sleek dark head emerged, and eyes regarded them.
“Man!” the voice bubbled. “Are you he who is named Daniel?”
Daniel stood and his hand went automatically to the short sword under his cloak.
“I… know the one you speak of,” he said slowly.
The dolphin’s bubble of laughter came. “You speak not true,” it said. “We have watched for you, every day. You are Daniel.”
“Well, then?”
“He who is lost, the Great One, sent me to find you,” it said. “He sends a message.”
Daniel said nothing. After a moment, the dolphin went on.
“He says that you may open the wall, and let in the sea, man. You will harm none, there will be much time to warn all the land dwellers to go. Then, he will be free, to return to his clan, the Morra-ayar. And the new sea will be ours, but there will still be much land for your people.”
“That’s nonsense,” Daniel said. “Why should I do this?”
“He has said that he will give you many things, he will make you wiser and stronger. He has shown us, in the sea, already… his messengers came, and many of us listened. He is very wise. He said that a time will come when you of the land will slay all things that live in the sea, and showed us visions that proved this. He said that you would know that this was true, and that you could not lie if we asked.”
Daniel bit his lip painfully. After a moment he said, “That part might be true, some day. But not if the wall remains.”
“It cannot remain,” the dolphin said. “It will be broken, by other means, some day. He said that you would know this, too. How could you exist, if the wall were not broken?”
That was the damnable paradox, Daniel thought. He remembered a real world, a world that had a Mediterranean sea in it. But he knew also that he would not open that gateway and destroy the wall. The Morra-ayar said that if he refused, he would cease to exist. That was perfectly logical… and damned hard to swallow.
“He’s not one of our sea folk,” Ammi said suddenly. “Daniel, be careful.”
“Woman, speak to your man,” the dolphin said. “Our Master will reward him, and you too. If you open the wall, the men of the other nations will cease to fight; the Great One caused them to fight, and he can make them cease. Woman, dead men float in our sea, and there is much blood. You do not wish to see your young killed…”
“I don’t wish to be told such lies, either,” Ammi said. Her hand went under her cloak.
“Soon, there will be much killing,” the dolphin boomed. “Many men will come, and Numith will fall; then, the gates will be opened by others, and you will die.”
“No,” Daniel said. “Tell your master that I say no. That’s the only answer I can give.”
“I have a message for him, too,” Ammi said in a cool voice. Her hand came out and moved swift as lightning. The heavy bronze knife struck, and flew off the dolphin’s tough hide, though she had thrown it with all her force.
It uttered a strange snort, half laughter and half threat; and slid silently out of sight.
The company of Numithians moved swiftly eastward, along the roads that ran beside the Salt River at first; these were still the lands of Numith. Beyond, the road was less good for many miles, since few chose to live in the moorland.
There would be no use in taking a large force, Daniel had argued. Too many would merely slow their journey, without giving any better protection. Once in the lands held by Cohanar’s king, they would be safer; Iskarth maintained a peace with these lands. So, there were only twenty-five in all; Numith’s best warriors, well-mounted on good horses. Haruths would have made as good mounts, but the great beasts did not wish to go beyond their own lands these days. They were not afraid; rather, most of them wanted to slay the Iskarth men, when they came again.
Cohanar was small, a low-roofed city without walls; only a palisade which would not hold against any real assault, Daniel thought. The men of Numith were greeted with loud cheers by the people, small-size folk with darker skins than any Daniel had yet seen. But the king and his chiefs were not quite as glad.
The king of Cohanar went through the motions of a polite welcome, of course. Numith stood still, and was strong. Yet, there might be Iskarth, later; the thought was all too plainly in his mind. When Daniel spoke of the dangers of an Iskarth victory, and of the possible destruction of the wall, they were not much disturbed.
“It would be foolish,” one of the Cohanarian nobles said with a shrug. “The kings of Iskarth and Esmare value wealth, and wealth is not gained thus. What tribute can men give when they are drowned?”
“Has Numith required that you pay tribute to them?” Daniel demanded. In the silence, he looked at them, and suddenly knew what they were thinking. Numith had required nothing, therefore Numith was weaker than Iskarth, which demanded gifts from them. It was the way they thought, Daniel decided bitterly. These would be of no use.
Yet he remained for a day and did his best. In the end, before he left Cohanar, certain of the chiefs spoke to him in private. They were worried, they said. Yet, under the circumstances, it would be difficult to change the king’s mind. But if a small gift or two would be possible…
Many days later, Daniel rode beside the captain of his little troop, a man named Eshtak. Eshtak was a sardonic, acid-tongued fellow whose biting humor had kept Daniel from losing his own temper a hundred times so far. He was also a gambler, and therefore had no wealth at all. Daniel taught him several ways to manage dice; it seemed that even in this age there were small blocks on which numbers were painted. And though they were a little different from those of Daniel’s time, he had clear memories of how they could be used… honestly or otherwise.
So, Eshtak had become Daniel’s friend as well as his servant. But sometimes Daniel thought, with wry amusement, that he had done a great deal to this new world in which he lived, and not much to improve it. Teaching Esh
tak to rebalance a pair of dice might be a step toward civilization, at that, Daniel thought.
“We’ve seen five towns, and the moon’s full again,” Eshtak observed. They rode beside a broad lake, toward low hills that were blue against the sky. “Six is the lucky throw. Kratonis is no huddle of peasant huts, but a kingdom; maybe they’ll hear us.”
Daniel looked critically at the land about them. The rolling land was dark green, the color of the olive trees that lined the way. They had seen white-walled villas on the hills, and the land looked rich.
Now, as the troop came within sight of the city itself, Daniel began to hope Eshtak was right. The place was large and well-built. He could see a bustle of traffic through the gates, and wide streets beyond. There were few guards in sight; Kratonis seemed secure and peaceful.
They were met on the road by messengers and heralds, and once more they rode through streets lined with cheering people.
“They cheered us in the other cities, too,” Eshtak observed as they clattered up a roadway and under an arch. “When their chiefs cry out good wishes on our heads, then I’ll feel better.” He glanced around the wide courtyard as they dismounted, and most sharply at the line of brilliantly armored guards around it “Perhaps I’d be satisfied if I merely keep my head on my shoulders, without the good wishes,” he added. “There’s something about those guardsmen that makes me feel strangely nervous, Lord Daniel.”
Daniel glanced at them and grinned.
“I can see why,” he told Eshtak in a carefully lowered voice. They walked behind the King’s heralds, and the guards clanged their spears to the ground, saluting as they came. “Look more closely at the King’s guards,” Daniel said quietly.
