by Allan Cole
"Happy," she repeated. Then added: "Yes... Happy. Deoce ver-y happy." It was her first full statement in Orissan.
Darkness and caution kept us from going further that night. It was too far and the footing along the crater's rim was too dangerous. In the morning Maeen sent 'Lione and a few men to scout the area to make sure no enemies lurked about. There was little conversation while we waited; all of us were content to loll about and study the place at our ease. Deoce and I spent several hours adding words to our dictionaries, pointing out different creatures and flowers and trees.
'Lione returned just before nightfall. He and the other men were grinning and joking, behaving more like gamboling lambs than soldiers. "The only trouble we'll have here, cap'n," he said to Janos, "is gettin' up enough foolishness to leave." He painted a wonderful picture of their day's adventure. There was life aplenty: animals with hooves and paws; fur and scale; blunt-toothed grazers and fanged flesh eaters; shade trees, fruit trees; and every variety of flowering plant, with accompanying sippers of nectar. "Near as we c'd figger," 'Lione said, "only thing missin' is men. No sign of people ever bein' about. Oh, yeah. One other thing. Big thing, really. Those tigers and deer we saw playin' yesterday?" Janos nodded. "It's like that all over the valley. Things that oughta duck and hide walk 'bout bold as you please. An' things that oughta be stalkin' and killin' pay never no mind."
"But how do they eat?" I asked the question for all of us.
'Lione's grew wide with wonder as he considered how to answer. "That's the craziest thing. It was peaceful like I said, all day. But just 'fore we got back, everythin' changed. Deer spooked and bolted. Tigers bolted a'ter `em. Same with th' other critters. Things that make a good dinner started lookin' for a place to hide, an' things that kills and eats for a livin' went lookin' for `em. But oddest damn thing, was the hunters seemed to take on'y what they could eat... `n no more. Then, all of a sudden, th' whole commotion stops. An' things got all peaceful like before." He scratched his head, a silly grin pasted to his face. "Now ain't that th' damndest thing you ever heard of?"
I looked at Cassini, a little uneasy at this peacefulness. "A spell?"
Cassini thought, then shook his head. "I have no feeling of another... presence," he said. "But I do have a sense of... Wellness? Yes. That's it. Wellness. But what its source is, I cannot say. Although I suspect all the spells I have been casting to assure our safety have finally come together to protect us." He gestured at the thick walls of the crater. "Possibly the structure of this place has helped to concentrate my spells."
Janos snorted. "So all these creatures suddenly became tame when you stood upon the rim? Blessed in the presence of the Master Evocator? Come now, Cassini. If that is the explanation, then I think your superiors back in Orissa had better start rewriting the sacred texts."
Cassini's face darkened. "Enough of this," I broke in. "Instead of questioning and arguing, I suggest we all just enjoy what we have stumbled upon. We can rest here and recuperate for as long as it is necessary. That is all I, for one, care to know."
"Here, here," 'Lione broke in. Maeen, who had been hovering at his side, glowered at him. "Sorry," 'Lione said. "Di'n't mean to poke my nose where it don't belong. But I b'lieve Lord Antero has a sensible suggestion. There's plenty to enjoy. Come the morrow, you'll see for yourself."
The next day we got ourselves, our belongings and the animals to the bottom while the dew was still fresh on the ground. It was the sweetest air I ever breathed, and the music of the songbirds was sharp and clear. Everything that 'Lione warranted was true. We barely set up a real camp that day, but freed the asses of their burdens and they bawled in delight, rushed off to a nearby pond and plunged in with much kicking and splashing. Two big lizards, each three times the length of a man, came out of the water to watch them play, smiling toothy lizard smiles with mouths that gaped wide enough to swallow the asses whole. The asses ignored them, somehow knowing they were safe, and a bit later we were among them, shedding civilization along with clothes, acting like fools as the cool waters washed away the grime of the long trek.
I dove deep, swimming like the river rat I was, feeling all that coolness caress my belly and flanks. The water was so clear I could easily make out the limbs of my comrades churning about, as well as the fat bodies of the lizards, with their stumpy, powerful legs. To one side I saw a shaded inlet leading away from the pond. I came up for air, dived down again and swam along that water-avenue edged with gentle, moss-covered banks. Every Orissan child is joined to our great river practically at birth. Toddlers play in currents that strong men might fear in other parts. I was no different and I had always particularly enjoyed swimming underwater, holding my breath as long as I could, to seek out the many wonders that dwell there; so I had gone some distance down that avenue before I felt the need to emerge for breath.
I kicked lazily, rising slowly to the surface. But as I rose I saw slender limbs near the bank. Instead of surfacing, I swam closer and saw those legs were the shapely limbs of a woman. They were a light nut brown, rising to a delicate smear of black where they joined. Above them was the flare of hips and a narrow waist. I had not a thought or care in my mind as I let myself rise, immensely enjoying the view. I broached the surface, opening my mouth to drag in a breath, and I heard a giggle, then a splash and I drew in water instead of air.
Gasping and choking I stumbled toward shore, trying to clear my lungs and my eyes at the same time. I heard more splashing as someone waded for the bank. By the time I could breathe and see again, the owner of those limbs was not in sight. Not that I had any doubt to whom they belonged.
Deoce's face peered out through dangling willow branches. "I see Amalric," she cried. I caught a glimpse of a shapely breast tilting up through the willows. She saw me looking and pulled the branches closer. She made a face. "Amalric see Deoce, too." She laughed. "Make Amalric happy, yes?"
"Very happy," I answered, for the first time really appreciating Janos's ideas on language. She pointed and I looked down to see I was standing naked in water that came only to midthigh. "Deoce very happy. Amalric nice."
As I gawked, her face disappeared. A moment later a much-patched long-tailed shirt came sailing out of the willow. I pulled it on; the shirt came to my knees. "Amalric come talk Deoce, now," she called out. I climbed out and found her sprawled on the embankment. She'd washed and mended her costume so well it was hard to imagine that not long ago they had been nearly reduced to rags. She patted the ground beside her. "Talk to Deoce," she said. My lady ordered. I could only obey.
My hopes were dashed, however, when as soon as I sat, she displayed the writing box. "Deoce learn very more..." she frowned, searching. She muttered an impatient mutter and grabbed a dictionary from the box. She stuck a pretty little pink tongue out at the pad, then searched its pages. "Aha," she cried, stabbing her finger at a squiggle. "Deoce learn very more... words." She smiled at me, eyes twinkling. "Yes?"
"Absolutely," I said. Remembering Janos's advice on anatomical lessons, I took a small toe in my fingers. "Toe," I said. "Toe." Deoce dutifully repeated: "Toe." She scratched in the dictionary and handed it to me to put the Orissan word beside her own. I let my hand trail up further. "Leg," I said. "Leg." Her eyes widened as she caught my intent. Then they crinkled at the edges. She gave a low laugh. "Leg," she repeated. My hand rose again. "Knee," I said. ""Knee," she returned, but I felt muscles flex as she prepared to snatch the object of my exploration away. Instead of going further in that direction, I touched her arm. "Arm," I said. She gave me an odd look as I changed my tactics. "Arm," she replied, cautiously. I leaned close to her, and she did not draw away. "Kiss?" I asked, and I moved my face closer still. Her reply was a whisper. "Kiss?" Our lips brushed, and I trembled at the softness I found there. I put my hand on the back of her neck to draw her nearer to drink more deeply of those lovely lips. I felt a small hand on my chest, pushing gently away. I obliged, gasping a little. "No more kiss," she said, but I noted her voice was husky and I saw a flush
of passion rising from her neck. "Amalric teach Deoce words. Not kiss," she said.
I nodded, and picked up the dictionary, my mind stumbling for balance. Deoce noted my confusion and patted my hand. "Kiss nice," she said. "Make Deoce happy." She straightened her costume, and sat up, prim. "Teach kiss later," she said. And as my hopes leaped upon my features again, she laughed. "Very later," she said. Then: "Maybe..."
That night, Janos called a meeting of the expedition leaders. "I think it would be wise," he said, "for us to agree to certain things. How long we are going to stay here for instance. And how we are going to behave during this stay."
"I know how anxious you are to move on, Janos," I said, "but we need a rest before we strike out again. I doubt the journey will get any easier, and the better shape we can get ourselves and the equipment into, the better chance we'll have against what is to come."
"I will not quarrel with that," Cassini said. "However, your mention of behavior is puzzling."
"I am speaking of the pact the creatures who live in this crater seemed to have made," Janos said. "I think we should follow their rules, if that word applies, and limit our hunting as they do."
Cassini glared. "What makes you think dumb beasts can make such an agreement?" he scoffed. "The peacefulness you see is for our benefit, and our benefit alone."
"Do you still think this is of your doing?" Janos asked, not troubling to hide disgust in his tone.
"What other logical explanation can there be?" Cassini said. "Since the moment we left Orissa, I have been casting spells to assure our safety and well being. Plus we have the powerful blessing of the Council of Evocators. Thus far, both these things have kept arrows from piercing our flesh, and found us water in the middle of a wasteland. Now, they have given us respite."
Instead of a heated retort, Janos considered Cassini's words. "Help me, my learned Evocator," he said, and both Cassini and I were surprised there was no mockery in his tone, "see the wisdom of your logic. Without revealing any deep secrets of your craft, how is it you choose a spell? And how is it you know what that spell's ultimate effect may be?"
"It is very simple," Cassini said, "for those who are blessed with an Evocator’s powers. We study all the spells that have been written, under the wise tutelage of a master Evocator, and commit those spells to memory."
"But there must be countless spells," Janos said. "Even for an Evocator, wouldn't it be difficult to memorize them all?"
"Certainly," Cassini answered. "And just as there are Evocators with greater or lesser degrees of power, so it is that some are better at memorizing. I, for one, have an excellent memory. This is not a boast, but an attribute pointed out by my first teacher when I was accepted by my brother Evocators. However, for those not blessed, and even I find it hard to recall absolutely everything, we merely have to go to the archives where all spells are kept."
"When you travel," Janos pointed out, "you can't carry a library."
Cassini tapped his forehead. "I keep it here," he said. "Which is one reason you are fortunate, captain, that I asked to be included in this expedition."
"Yes, I can see that we are," Janos answered. "However, I just want to get one thing straight. The spells, you use, then, are recited from rote. Wisdom, as they say, passed down over the ages in ancient texts?"
"Exactly," Cassini said. "We know they work, because they have always worked. It does not matter why. For it is not possible for men to ever understand such a thing. Only the gods can know why."
Janos stared at him. Cassini flushed, realizing where the conversation had taken him. But just to make sure: "Then we can't say the why's of this small paradise we have found," Janos said. "Or am I missing something?" Cassini sputtered, but found no answer. "So we do not know," Janos pressed on, "if the peace we find here is the doing of men, or the doing of... beasts. True?"
"True," Cassini answered, hating it.
"Then I suggest we do not second guess the gods," Janos said. "I suggest we abide by the rules we found here, just as if they were handed down by the gods themselves."
"I think it's the safest thing to do," I said, jumping strongly in on Janos's side. "Besides, if Janos is in error, there can be no harm. And we can't possibly say what will happen if he is correct."
"Very well," Cassini said, teeth gritting. "We'll do it your way."
"We'll all keep the hours?" Janos pressed.
"Yes," Cassini said. He rose before Janos engaged in more verbal trickery, and stalked away from the fire.
"Is it not amazing, my friend," Janos said, "to learn something so basic as sorcery has no laws whatsoever - except the rules the sorcerers make to keep all knowledge to themselves?"
"I suppose that is just the nature of things," I said.
"Do you really think that?" Janos asked.
I started to answer, then shook my head. "Who can say? I drove my own teachers to near madness with such questioning when I was a boy."
"And now that you are a grown man?"
"I am not Cassini," I said. "There is no need for games. Say what is on your mind. For I can see from your agitation that you are bound to."
Janos laughed at my foresight. "Oh, don't we all love to hear ourselves talk?" he said. "There must be a small demon of self admiration that dotes on the sound of our own voices." He sipped sweet water from a gourd and passed it to me to drink. "I do have my own theories, as you have guessed. and they go much beyond Cassini's prattling that a thing works, because it has always worked."
I nodded for him to continue. "I believe there are certain principles underlying the whole thing," Janos said. "One, is that like produces like; and it follows an effect resembles its cause. Another is that things formerly in contact will continue to act on each other, no matter how great the distance. One example that illustrates both: if an Evocator chooses to destroy someone, he tries to get something personal, a lock of their hair, for instance. Such as was tried on you in Lycanth. He then makes a likeness of the enemy, with the hair as part of the makings, and then attacks the likeness - by burning, for instance. If this is done correctly, the enemy will suffer greatly, and sometimes even die."
"Black magick," I muttered.
"That is an example of the Evocators' laws," Janos said. "They divide sorcery into black and white. Good and evil."
"You don't think there is a difference?"
"Not at all. For the one trying to destroy his enemy, the sorcery is a good thing. White, in other words. For the target, why, it is most certainly black. I think the only difference is where you stand."
"Why do you trouble yourself with such things?" I asked. "Why not leave well enough alone?"
"It is a means to an end, I suppose," Janos said. "I became interested when I was a slave, so I guess that further means I was anxious to seize some control over a life that another could snuff out on a whim."
I shook my head. "Is this healthy? Better yet... is it wise?"
"Neither, I suspect," Janos said. "For another theory of mine is that every spell cast must have some effect on its caster. So eventually, after many spells, the sorcerer should be aware his own substance is being harmed. The trouble is, sorcery is such a seductive science - for science I believe it will be some far off day. When one is faced with a goal that cannot be denied, then anything may be risked."
I thought of the love potion and Melina and could not help but agree. "What do you hope to achieve by this study?" I asked.
"To reach my goal," Janos said, his voice soft. "And nothing more." He looked deep into the fire. "There will be wiser men in the future, Amalric," he said. "Men who will ferret out all the laws...be they sorcerous or what we call natural. Why does a river flow down from a mountain? Instead of up. Why does a stick placed on a rock lift an object you could not budge with brute muscle? How does a divining rod find water? How is it possible to catch the wind spirits in a leather bag, and then let them loose later to fill the sails? Perhaps I am a fool, but I reckon there are laws that govern these things. And wou
ldn't it be elegant, my friend, if they were all the one and the same? That there is no difference between the natural and spiritual?"
"Do you really think so?" I asked, amazed.
A chuckle from Janos. "No. It would be too easy. But if you should live so long to meet those distant thinkers, do not be surprised if at least some of what I say proves true."
That was the end of our conversation, but I have thought about his words many times since that short time we dwelt in paradise. One thing I remember clearly, however, is I felt a sudden surge of hope when he told his views. If there were rules, I thought, if there laws of sorcery any man or woman could learn, this might be a great boon to all. If that day ever came, I mused, would it break the hold the Evocators have over common people such as myself? Such as they had over my brother? At that moment, a thought bubbled up: Janos might be onto to something as worthy as this Finding itself. I heard Deoce laugh at a nearby campfire, and the thought fled.
The days that followed went swiftly and were among the happiest in my life. We fell easily into the graceful ways of the crater. We swam and frolicked with the animals, dined on fruit and nuts, and killed for flesh only during the appointed period when hunter and hunted returned to their customary roles. Our skin was soon scrubbed of all the embedded grime of the trek, and the hollow places created by our ordeal filled with new, healthy muscle.
Deoce and I grew closer. She was lovely before, but under the peaceful influence of our new abode, she became strikingly beautiful. Her limbs were more shapely, her skin and hair glowed with health, and her eyes were flashing beacons that filled in the gaps when language failed. Our companions pretended to ignore us as we strode hand-in-hand about the lush crater. There was many a quiet brook and soft, green glen that invited our presence, and during that interlude we probably visited them all. We continued our language lessons, but they went more swiftly now, and in a short time both of us became so adept at jumping from her native tongue to my own it was as if it were just one language.
