Gryphon

by Crawford Kilian

  He found only one possible comfort from the Song. Speculatively, he studied Eldra. He said, “Can w'e escape Davok if we try to return to the road to Erul?” “Tonight we wouldn’t find Davok. He’s not foolish enough to spend the night in the forest. With darkness, he’ll have gone close to Fenn.”

  “That’s what I hoped,” Toren said. “Then we’ll walk in the direction of the road while darkness still protects us.”

  She sucked in her breath. “With fifty kranol out there, and fifty more waiting beyond them?”

  “Of course,” Teron said! “Talk to them. Tell them to keep away, that I’m dangerous or poison or that I taste bad—anything to keep them occupied.”

  “I never controlled a wild beast,” she wailed. “I only spoke to my pets in the castle! What if I fail?”

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  “If it’s any consolation,” Teron said, “the kranol won’t get much of a meal, not with just two of us to divide among a hundred of them.”

  IV

  ELDRA ROSE and stood between the night and their small fire, her arms folded, her face turned toward the semicircle of eyes. Teron picked up a stick from the remaining stack and-with his knife frayed the heavier end to make a torch. As he laid it aside and chose another, he looked toward Eldra and saw one pair of eyes slowly moving toward her.

  Eldra stood staunchly in place, her body swaying gently as though to some transcendental rhythm. Teron reached for his spellstaff and laid it across his knees. Just then the firelight touched the massive animal approaching Eldra. It stopped and looked directly at the two humans.

  Shock ran through Teron. This was no roabi, whatever it might look like in sleep and whatever its den might smell like. Thick, dark, hair-covered body on short, powerful legs; these were roabilike, as was the broad head well snouted and split far back by a mouth filled with great teeth. But there the similarity ended. For this kranol had a mobile rather than fixed upper jaw; expressions moved across its face; its lips twisted as if it might be forming words; and in its eyes Teron saw a more than rudimentary intelligence.

  He said softly, “Don’t talk down to the kranol, Eldra. Speak as you would to a human but in the simplest concepts.”

  If she heard, she gave no sign. The beast came on, stopping when it was little more than two yards from Eldra. It stared up at her, eyes questioning. Twice the great head moved in what seemed to Teron to be a motion of agreement

  Eldra’s hands lifted and reached out, as if she might

  be pleading. One swept back to indicate Teron behind her. Then both hands fell to her sides and her shoulders sagged a little.

  The kranol remained seated for a moment. Then he rose and ambled back into the darkness. His eyes joined the waiting semicircle. Eldra gave a soft gasp and came toward Teron. There was no color in her face, and she trembled a little as she sat beside him.

  “They agree not to harm us if we don’t harm them,” she said. “But first we have to prove we can harm them. They want a demonstration of your power.”

  “You had a conversation?”

  “A meaningful dialogue,” Eldra said. “The one I spoke with is Wenga, subleader of this tribe. The leader is off seeking new territory.”

  “One more dialogue and you can write the textbook,” Teron said. “How do we know the rank and file will follow this Wenga’s orders?”

  “They have an autocratically structured society,” Eldra said. “If one doesn’t behave within the framework set down by the leader, Wenga is sent to his den to speak against him. Then for a mild crime the others ostracize him, for a major one he is destroyed.”

  She smiled faintly at Teron. “I took all those possibilities into consideration. I tried to be rational.”

  He ignored her remark. "Where do they want this demonstration?”

  “Wenga has a place on the other side of their valley at the edge of the forest.”

  “Out where they can get to us if my power doesn’t scare them enough?”

  “I pointed that out,” Eldra said. "Wenga told me that I had no choice. You accept his way of doing things, or you get no consideration.”

  Teron rose, lifting his armload of torches. “You told them we needed to carry our fire to see with?”

  “I forgot, but I can. Wenga’s very easy to talk with— as long as you agree with him.”

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  Teron slipped on his carryall and lit the first torch. “Let’s get started.” Together they walked forward toward the edge of the circle of firelight and the waiting eyes. “Why did Wenga come to you?”

  “I asked him to,” Eldra said. “When I first sent my thoughts out, I felt the others all communicating with one. I guessed they had a leader and I asked to speak with him. He wanted me to come to him, but I pointed out that I needed the fire to warm me against the night He was polite enough to come to me.” She added, “1 don’t think normally he is very polite to any but those who rank above him.”

  Teron slowed his step. “Tell him why we have the torches,” he said.

  Eldra stopped briefly, and once more Teron noticed that she swayed. Straightening up, she nodded at him. “I told him we needed their warmth, that our bodies are not protected against the night air of the mountains without heat and that our eyes cannot pierce the darkness without light. He seems to have accepted the explanation.”

  They were in the midst of the kranol now, and Teron hoped fervently that Wenga was a beast of his word. The animals fell well back from the light of the torch Teron carried, but he saw their eyes forming a ring scarcely more than ten yards yards away. He suspected that a kranol could cover that much distance in two quick leaps.

  Slowly they made their way through the notch and across the valley of the kranol caves. Teron had only three torches left from his bundle when Eldra said, “Here.”

  He turned questioningly to her. She pointed into the darkness. “There is a huge rock at the edge of the woods. Wenga wants it split apart from base to top.” In the dim light from the torch, he saw a frown of concentration cross her features. “I’m not sure what Wenga means, but I get the concept of a spring and a river.”

  Shaking his head, Teron led the way until he found

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  the rock. It rose a full five meters and more, tapering in width from a three yard base to a spire at the top. He judged it to be as thick through as it was high, and he hoped his spellstaff had enough constant power to split that much solid matter.

  “Well?” Eldra demanded.

  “We can try,” he said. He moved them back until the rock was barely visible at the edge of the torchlight. Lifting his spellstaff, Teron thumbed the power to maximum and then pressed the stud, moving the staff slowly along a vertical line. The line of faint pinkish light that sprang from it glowed in the darkness. It struck the stone at the base and moved upward in a thin glow. Teron held his breath. The line reached the top of the rock and Teron started a downward movement. The rock was thick, and formed from matter that resisted the forces from the staff.

  There was a sudden, sharp crack. The rock separated into two neat halves, each tumbling to one side. A chorus of growls, grunts, and what sounded to Teron like squeals of pleasure came from the kranol.

  “There!” Eldra said. “Look, Teron. That’s what Wenga meant by a spring and a river.”

  He saw. Where the ground had been wet at the base of the rock from a small trickle of underground water, now a small geyser had appeared. It grew as deep pressures forced it higher and higher. Steam rose as water sprayed out to fall on the still hot sections of rock. The water arced up to drop into a shallow depression directly in front of the spot where the rock had stood. Soon the depression was over half full with running water.

  “I’ve created a lot of illusions," Teron said, “but that's the first time I ever managed a river.”

  “It’s no illusion,” Eldra said. She caught his arm and pulled him to one side. “Come on, unless you like swi
mming on cold nights.”

  They moved away from the surging water coming toward them. The geyser continued to grow, and now

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  they could hear the pressure rumbling and complaining. Teron doubled his pace, dragging Eldra toward the forest, away from the moving water. At the edge of the trees they stopped.

  “You’d better check with Wenga before we go on," Teron said. “Besides, I don’t know which way to go."

  Eldra stood beside him, her body moving gracefully to the rhythms he could not hear. He opened his mind to listen and heard nothing but the agony of weariness swelling inside her. Of the harmonies to which she moved or to her mind meeting with Wenga he got no clue.

  She said faintly, "Wenga is grateful. It is because of lack of water that his tribe was seeking new grounds. Now they can stay in their homeland.”

  “So I’m a public benefactor,” Teron said. “But what about us?”

  “Wenga himself will escort us to the road. Sight of him and his companions will frighten away even Dav- ok.”

  They walked slowly through the forest, following the dim shapes of three kranol who walked at the edge of the torchlight. Teron was conscious of eyes on either side of them, and in the confines of the forest the odor of the great beasts was enough to overcome the fragrance of the trees. Even so, Teron felt more comfortable with the kranol around. If Davok and his warriors should be near, they would leave fast enough once they scented a herd of these monsters.

  The last torch was sputtering when Teron and Eldra broke from the trees and onto the highroad. The stars shone with such brilliance that he could see the notch in the mountains. It lay to their left, with the bridge he had not quite managed to cross on the right

  Eldra sighed and stopped, her head cocked, her body swaying in that gentle way he had now come to know. She nodded after a moment of silence. “Wenga bids us good-bye. He is pleased with your powers.”

  “Good-bye,” Teron called loudly. He thought he

  caught a murmured growl but when he looked around he saw no eyes gleaming from the darkness.

  He said to Eldra. “Dawk?”

  “Neither the kranol nor I sensed anyone near,” she said. She took a step forward and faltered. “Help me to the guardhouse in the notch, Teron. There we can get a cart. I’m so very tired, I..

  She collapsed on the grass at the edge of the road.

  Teron knelt beside her. He sought her pulse. It was slow and to his mind irregular. He scooped her into his arms and struggled to his feet. Despite her slenderness, her inert body exerted a painful pull against his back and body, so he swung her over his shoulders and carried her as though she were a sack of grain. It wasn’t gallant but he had a much better chance of climbing to the notch and the guardhouse.

  When he reached the little stone building, it was dark and silent. Teron didn’t think it was natural for guards to be quite that secretive about their work. Steadying Eldra with one hand, he raised the other to knock on the heavy timber door.

  “Stand, traveler, and state your business!” the voice came from behind him.

  Teron turned his head. A man in leather armor and metal helmet held a sword near his ribs.

  “Teron, spellmaker of Korv. I bring Eldra, the Seventh.”

  ? Without moving, the guard shouted a single word. Torchlight sprang up inside the guardhouse, and seconds later the door was flung open. Even as he stood blinking in the sudden light Teron admired the efficient organization of Pandro’s sentries.

  A redheaded man came forward and peered at Eldra’s face. “It is the Seventh,” he called.

  An older man came forward, gazed at Eldra and smiled, “Praise Eliff! The Seventh is safe.”

  “She’ll be safer if we can get her to warmth and food,” Teron pointed out

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  “A cart for the Seventh. A driver and two guards." The call was quick and sure.

  A cart appeared, its bed well covered with mattresses. Eldra was laid tenderly on them and Teron seated himself beside her. One of the guards sat on the box while two others rode sahrs, one behind and one ahead. Both carried spears in position for quick use.

  Once they were underway Teron said to the driver, "I should think guards would have been at the port to escort the Seventh to Erul.”

  The driver said only, "We did not know the time the Seventh would arrive.” His voice was apologetic.

  Teron waved aside the apology and the driver concentrated his attention on driving the team. They came to the lip of the pass, and there spread before Teron was the Valley of Erul, die enchanted city in its center.

  Now Teron understood the word “beauty” as travelers over the centuries have used the word. For this was truly beauty. The Comb of Heaven formed a great circular barrier. On the west the seven long fingers of the Vales burrowed gently into the ring of mountains. The valley floor looked rich and productive even in the starlight, and the mountain slopes were covered with masses of timber.

  The city itself glowed. Tall, graceful towers of stone soared into the air, forming a core around which the surrounding houses had grown. It was without distinct form, yet it was pleasing in its lack of symmetry. A myriad of multicolored lights shone from the tallest, the central tower.

  “Erul, spellmaker,” the driver breathed. “Now you can understand the greed in Davok’s heart, the desire Udrig himself must have to possess such beauty.” His voice became almost a chant. “For Erul is the breathing symbol of Eliff. If it should fall into the hands of one such as Davok, an earthly incarnation of Udrig himself, then would be fulfilled the prophecy. If Erul dies, so dies all Zarza.”

  Teron checked himself from saying, “Adapted from

  Part 38, Verses 4 to 7 of the Song of Vacor and Eldra.” Instead, he said, “It is even more glorious than I dreamed.”

  “Wait until you see it at close quarters,” the driver said. He hurried them forward, down the mountain road to the edge of the city. A wide belt of parldand and trees separated the ancient, unmanned walls from the first houses. They proceeded past houses down a tree- lined avenue to the great square where the tall, lighted spire reached for the heavens. The driver drew up at a side entrance of the spire.

  "From here the lady Eldra can be carried to her quarters without being seen,” the driver said. “Time enough for her to escort you to the great hall when she has recovered from her exhaustion.”

  “The Lady Eldra can carry herself,” she said in a clear voice. Teron turned. Eldra was standing, life in her eyes and color in her cheeks. “I am well rested. I will take the spellmaker to Pandro.”

  She led him away after both offered thanks to the driver. “First,” Eldra said, “we go to your temporary rooms.”

  “My temporary rooms? Am I to be moved from one place to another?”

  “Of course. Once the ceremony is performed, we share those of the joined Seventh.”

  He said weakly, “But if I do not believe, we cannot be joined.”

  “You believe—enough for us to be wed. The joining will come.”

  She opened the door to his quarters. They consisted of two rooms lit by torches concealed in cunningly designed niches in the pale stone walls. The larger room held a bed, a wardrobe and a cluster of chairs and couches around a large brazier. The smaller adjoining room was a bath occupied by a sunken tub large enough for six men Teron’s size. A great stream of steaming water ran into the tub.

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  “How can water be heated before it reaches its basin,"

  he wondered aloud.

  “It comes from the rain catches," Eldra explained. “It runs from them into huge vats wanned from below by fires. Then it is released to whatever place may need it.”

  He said lightly, “So even though you can’t make a rain spell there’s enough rain to fill all the vats.”

  Her lips quivered and the quick brilliance of tears touched her eyes. “You’re making fun of me aga
in.” She took a deep breath to control her irritation. “I will leave you to bathe and dress.” Formality starched her words. “When you are ready, we will present ourselves to Pandro.” She stalked out of the room.

  He frowned after her. Had she no sense of humor? She’d better develop one, he thought grimly, if she desired a joining. A man couldn’t watch his words each second of the day.

  The bath soothed his temper. It seemed to him the steaming bath not only removed grime and dust from road and wilderness but weariness from his bones. Out of the tub, he rubbed his body till it glowed and dressed himself, this time proudly donning the magnificent motley of the spellmaker’s robe.

  Eldra’s knock disturbed his serenity. As he moved to open the door, he sighed deeply. Years of bachelorhood waved good-bye to. He sought no wedding and yet—yes, he did believe in some measure in something he hadn’t believed in before. He could call it destiny as he had when he had first held the Old One’s message in his hand, not knowing then from whence or from whom it came. He wasn’t yet ready to call it Eliff. But his belief was strong enough to make him know he would open the door.

  Eldra stepped inside. Her gown was made of a wondrous cloth, which glowed in changing colors as she moved. The bodice crossed over one shoulder and beneath the other. A jewel glowed at her throat. On her cap of sunset hair she wore a decoration carved

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  from a glowing, green stone to resemble a half-wreath of entwined leaves.

  "You stare," she told him. .

  “You are—you look—attractive."

  “For the first time?"

  He bit back the sharp retort ihat pressed against his lips, took a deep breath and said quietly, “Of course not. Tonight you are festive.”

  “Naturally. Joining is the prime festival of a woman’s life.”

  “You mean the joining will be tonight?”

  She gave no direct answer, simply motioning to the hall and saying, “It is time to present ourselves.”

  At the end of the hallway was a wide flight of stairs, and at its foot was the great hall. Laughter bubbled up from it along with the savor of roasting meats. Eldra and Toren descended the stairs and stepped into the brilliance of the room. Torches, hanging candelabra and huge fireplaces threw a dancing crescendo of light upon two tables running the length of the room. At one end a raised dais united the long tables into a U shape. Upon this sat one man at a small table. Bat despite his rich robes and his solitary position, it was not he who took Teron’s eye amidst the hundred or more people assembled in the room. Rather his attention rested on a man seated just below the dais garbed in a dark green robe so cunningly embroidered with silver serpents that their heads seem to twist upward in admiration or fear of the intense, cadaverous face of the man who wore them.