by John White
They set out an hour later. They left the jeweled orb in its box, placing it with an iron key in a leather bag, which Eleanor, in spite of the weight, carried over her shoulder. John carried the book, which was heavier still. Authentio secured it to John's shoulders with straps. He himself carried their other provisions in two bundles suspended from the long pole which he carried Chinese fashion over his shoulders. These contained a cooking pot, tinders, provisions, a water bag, cords for snares and fish hooks. His bow was slung across his back, while a quiver of arrows hung from his left shoulder.
Their first job was to climb out of the steep valley that walled in the fjord. That was the difficult part, and at times both John and Eleanor were nearly in despair, wondering how they would ever survive a month of walking. Once they were free of the rock face, they avoided the village by clambering steeply up through the forest.
Authentio was cheerful and encouraged them. "This is hard," he kept saying. "But it is only for today. Let us rest as often as you wish." Shortly before sunset the trees became thinner, and they ate their meal at the edge of the plateau where there were fewer and smaller trees than those that hugged the sides of the fjord. "Less rainfall up here," Authentio said. What trees there were seemed to be gathered into copses.
They spent their first night in such a copse. Authentio found a hollow for them and showed them the drifts of dry leaves that could be found here and there. They made an unusual bed, but since the hollow was deep, they were reasonably warm. But neither John nor Eleanor slept much that night, and Authentio snored.
After that their routine for the next two weeks scarcely varied. The plateau was not perfectly flat (which was the way John had always pictured them in his mind) but was a rolling grassy plain, surrounded everywhere by distant snow-covered peaks. "It extends almost all the way to Bamah," Authentio told them. "Further on it becomes a desert, and after the desert it becomes forested again." Authentio was expert in living off the land. Small rabbitlike creatures abounded (cunies, Authentio called them), and he laid snares for them at night, baking them in a coat of mud and clay the next morning, so that their skin came off with the baked clay once they had cooked in the fire. These became their staple diet, along with a few birds, and abundant berries and nuts, and occasional fish from the brackish ponds and shallow lakes that littered the plateau.
Often he would tell them stories of Anthropos, but again and again returned to the matter of Gaal and the Lord Lunacy. "It happened in my grandfather's time," he said one day. "People had forgotten about the Changer and were paying greater and greater heed to sorcerers and wizards, consulting them and giving them money. Then-and no one knows quite how it happened, except that Shagah was responsible-their masters, the Angeli, came. We think it was Shagah who brought the Angeli down. They made slaves of half of the Regenskind and the matmon."
"You mean they put that weird spell on them?" Eleanor asked.
"Yes, my lady. That's how Bamah was built. They brought many of them from their villages and put them to work."
"They are hard workers too," said John.
Eleanor said, "And I think they're really sweet."
"You've seen them?" John asked
"Like dwarfs. Or gnomes, you know? They're short and squat and have long beards. And they live for ages!"
There was a long pause during which they continued to walk over the uneven turf. Eventually John said slowly, "Shagah brought the Angeli down. What does that mean?"
"My lord, I do not really understand what the words mean," Authentio said doubtfully. "Sometimes we say he called them down. It has to do with the dark arts."
"Does that mean he has a lot of power?"
"He has always had more power than any of the other sorcerers. He kept discovering more ways to gain it, but I don't believe he knew what he was doing, or where the power came from. He was just experimenting with it. Then in the middle of a new sorcery, the Angeli suddenly came sweeping down. It is my belief that he called them down by accident. The Angeli have a ruler, who also is here."
"You mean the Lord Lunacy?" John asked.
"How did you know?"
"I met him more than once when I was here last."
Authentio stared at John, his eyes wide with astonishment, but for a few moments he said nothing. At length he murmured, "Lord Lunacy is a particular foe of Gaal. He has his guards looking for him. But they have been instructed not to arrest him-yet."
"You all keep talking about Gaal." John hesitated. "Who is he exactly?"
Authentio shrugged. "He's a Regenskind."
"Where's he from?"
"Somewhere in Anthropos, my lord. I have no certain knowledge. It is said that he will break the power of the Lord Lunacy in mortal combat. That is why he is his sworn foe."
"Is that what makes him so special?"
Authentio smiled broadly. "You would have to meet him yourself, to talk with him, to look into his eyes." He shook his head, still smiling, but would say no more.
So day after day went by. Soon the blisters they acquired in the first two days healed, and their muscles no longer ached. The weather remained mild, and they slept well under the stars at night. Whenever they came to a lake, they would clean themselves up.
They grew to know and to enjoy Authentio. "How old are you?" John asked him admiringly one morning.
"I have lived nineteen summers, my lord."
"Do you have a sweetheart?" Eleanor asked. (In Eleanor's day, those in Canada talked about sweethearts and fiancees, not girlfriends or boyfriends.)
Authentio was clearly puzzled. "What is that?"
"I mean, are you engaged or anything?"
"It has to do with marriage, my lady?" Authentio flushed a little.
"Yes."
He smiled shyly. "The elders of my village will choose a wife for me. I am to wait until I have completed twenty summers."
"Hm! I don't think I'd like that," Eleanor said. "I mean, I wouldn't want someone to choose for me and make me marry." The discussion that followed went on for an hour or two. "Do you live alone or with your parents?" Eleanor asked at length.
"My father died two years ago. I live with my mother. People call her the widow Illith."
"What's she like?"
"She is small and gentle. But she has the wisdom of the ages locked beneath her little thatch of gray hair."
Gradually they forgot about Shagah as nature around them and the clear air they breathed constantly invigorated and renewed their spirits. Evil and terror seemed distant and hard to believe in. But their thirteenth night (Eleanor was sure it was not a coincidence, but John said she was being silly) proved to be terrifying.
In a small wooded area they had built a fire and had distributed themselves evenly around it to sleep. Sleep came quickly and seemed to all of them to be deep and dreamless. It was there that moonlight eventually rested on them. But the moonlight rested likewise on the sinister activity around them. Had they been able to observe what was taking place, they would have seen the elm trees waking and stretching their sleepy limbs. Then they would have seen the slow approach of the elms, elms that from all sides waded across patches of moonlight and shadow toward the sleepers. The trees had pulled their roots up a little from the earth so that now partly clear, they looked like people wading in deep water. They moved slowly and ponderously toward the trio.
They sang soothingly as they came, in a low, moaning chant, to which the rest of the forest trees responded, some with creakings and others with groaning. An oak tree nearby groaned, "Waken, young ones, waken, waken lest death surprise you!" John stirred, turned over and went on sleeping. He was cold, but neither the cold nor the sounds awoke him. Other trees slowly bent their boughs, straining at their own roots as if to intercept and impede the elms. The forest was aroused, awake and in urgent motion. But since only the elm trees were free to wade through the earth, their progress toward the three sleepers was unhindered.
Or almost so. Two or three times there were clashes of bough again
st bough, as oak or fir or beech bent forward to seize the moving elms with their own limbs. But the elms would bend backward, sometimes almost to the ground, evading the grasp of the older trees.
Soon their circle was complete. They linked their boughs together like dancers whose arms entwine over one another's shoulders. The Dance of the Elms had begun. Their chant changed and quickened as they circled, now to the left, now to the right, around the three sleeping figures.
For more than an hour the dance continued, and at last John began to do something many people do when they are close to waking-he began to dream. He was standing on the ice in Black Sturgeon Lake. It was clear ice which shone like a mirror so he could look down at his upside-down reflection in the lake below. Then to his horror he saw fingers of a giant hand reach up from below to surround the upside-down John, as though they were about to pull him down into the depths of the lake. When he looked up he saw that in fact a giant hand had descended from the sky above.
With a yell of terror he awoke to the greater terror of the elms. Eleanor woke too, and like John she sprang to her feet and dived for what seemed like an opening between two of the trunks. "Authentio! Authentio! Something's happening!" Authentio scrambled to his feet, and like the children, immediately sought a way out. But it was useless. Again and again as they flung themselves toward a space between two trunks, their exit was blocked. Authentio gave up quickly and began studying the movements of the trees.
Finally exhausted, gasping with breathlessness and terror, John and Eleanor gave up. "What can we do?" Eleanor sobbed.
"The treasures," Authentio muttered to himself. "Perhaps they can-" Then with a cry he flung himself at the foot of two elms where their bundles were rapidly disappearing as the two trees advanced past them. He seized the nearest ones, dragging them from the grip of the trunks on either side of them, and pulled them back to the ashes of dead fire in the middle. "The treasures-" he gasped. "They have power. It may be-"
Fortunately all three treasures were among the bundles he had pulled back. With feverish fingers Authentio tore from Eleanor's bundle the key and the orb, holding them uncertainly in his hands, fiercely muttering, "How shall we tap the power?"
But John was tugging the great old book of the laws and history of Anthropos by its straps, and as he did so it fell open. A blinding flash of brilliant and dazzling blue light filled all the forest. Instinctively they covered their eyes. At once the trees shuddered, and with groans disentangled their boughs, drawing back. By and by they were able to look, watching the strange slow wading of the retreating trees in stunned fascination. "Just look at the other trees," Eleanor said. "They-they actually know what's happening!" No tree impeded the elms' progress. Instead trees bent their trunks and boughs away from them to give them clear passage.
Authentio reached forward and closed the book and predawn darkness descended once more. "My lord and lady, I am sure we need no longer fear," he said.
They gathered more wood and rekindled the fire, sitting and talking agitatedly as dawn slowly crept across the sky. "I have heard of such things," Authentio said, "but never so far from Bamah." He frowned. "There was one who told me about it. He repeated a rhyme, and told me it protected against the trees."
I did not watch.
My body lay
And slept the careless
Hours away.
The crime is mine.
I cannot pay.
To Gaal the merciful
I pray.
"It sounds like you're not supposed to sleep," John said, frowning.
"Had this happened in the woods near Bamah, I would have understood," Authentio said. "That it should happen here has grave purport."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that Shagah has been at work, my lord. He planned your death."
"Our death?" John said.
"Anyone trapped in the circle dies, unless the spell can be broken."
"But how could he know we were coming this way?" Eleanor asked.
"He may not have been sure, even though this is the shortest route. But he has spread his net widely. Doubtless it hovers over many routes. I suspect you are going to see more of him." He drew in a breath. "The rest of your journey is likely to prove perilous. It is as well that you have the treasures with you."
"Yes," John murmured. "That's what Ponty must have meant. He said they had been entrusted to us for our own protection as well as theirs. I knew we had to protect the treasures and get them into the tower, but I didn't quite see how they could protect us. I guess I see now."
But Eleanor's face had turned pale. "I'm not sure I like the idea of a perilous journey with more nights like tonight happening," she said.
In the great Temple of Bamah, Shagah the Sorcerer and the Lord of the Angeli, Lord Lunacy, were together again, but this time the room was larger and the walls were curtained. Shagah sat on a gold throne while the Lord Lunacy towered above him, exuding power and menace. Lunacy spoke first, smiling as he did so. "I sensed a release of power in the predawn hours. You were aware of it?"
Shagah's face was impassive. He spoke quietly and courteously. "Indeed, my lord. You have taught me well. It was, as you are doubtless aware, the power of the Book. We shall soon have it under lock and key."
"You are sure of that?"
"Quite sure, my lord." His face was pale, and his tone careful, but he displayed no fear.
"And you know the precise location of the Sword Bearer's
"Its precise location, my lord-no. We know where the party is headed. My suspicion is that they will reach Taavath-Basar two or three days from now. I have activated the pool for their benefit. Of course, as you will appreciate, once we have the Sword Bearer we will have the treasure too. Including the Book. A day or two will make little difference after so many centuries." He drew in his breath, and there was a hint of tremor as he did so. "You are concerned, my lord?"
Lord Lunacy's voice was cold and expressionless. "You are the one who is concerned-not I. As you know, should the Book once get inside the tower, we will no longer have access to it. Copies will sooner or later be made from it." He smiled again. "That must not be allowed to happen. Remember," he continued, "you are not immortal-yet."
Shagah allowed a minute to pass before he replied. He seemed unable to match his master's smile, but his voice was controlled. "Be assured, my lord, that I bear all these things in mind. I have my own plans for the tower which we can discuss later. In the meantime we have the city to worry about-and the Regenskind Gaal." He tensed as he uttered the name, gripping the sides of his throne as if to anticipate the roar that had greeted it on the previous occasion.
At the mention of the name, Lord Lunacy's face darkened. "Gaal. Still at liberty. I burn with longing to destroy the usurper and consume him. Do you hear me, Shagah? I am consumed with rage toward him!" he was shouting now, and the room trembled from the paroxysm that shook him.
Shagah paled. Beads of sweat appeared on his upper lip and his forehead, but he continued to look steadily at his master, and when he spoke again, even though his voice was low his words were bold. "Nevertheless, your failures are returning to haunt you. Prophecies from the dawn of Anthropos tell us that a Regenskind will cripple you."
The smile, a dark and hateful smile, slowly returned to Lord Lunacy's deathly face. He still shook with rage, but his voice had sunk to a whisper while his form swelled to larger proportions. "I shall not fail. Hate is too powerful to fail. And I have learned the power of hate!"
Shagah leaned forward. There was a look of desperation on his face, the face of a gambler playing for the highest stakes. "You failed to identify him when he first arrived," he said and drew in his breath sharply. But the calm response seemed to throw him off balance.
"We all did-"
"Yet you knew of his coming. You murdered-"
"Murder?" Lord Lunacy's lips quivered in joy. "Murder now-that was a general measure. Valuable and pleasurable, as you yourself are aware. Hate must murder and devou
r."
"But, my lord, our slaves slip through our fingers and disappear. Where are the followers of Gaal? Where? My lord, they will continue to slip through my fingers so long as Gaal remains at liberty. I take it you know where he has hidden them. Where are they?"
Lunacy's face became impassive, and his tone expressionless except for a hint of cruelty. "As controller of the guard, you are expected to know. Am Ito perform your task for you?"
Shagah rose to his feet, facing his master recklessly. "You do know where they are, I take it? You assure me you know everything, but sometimes I wonder."
He remained standing for nearly two minutes, apparently struggling to quell his terror and to outstare the Lord of the Angeli. In the end, as in their previous encounter, he lowered his gaze and sat down again. But this time he was smiling, even as he trembled. "The Circle suspects that there are many of them," he said. "And so do the members of our ragtag guard. But where they are hiding is to us at present a mystery, known to none but my inscrutable master." He looked up, his expression obsequious, "I appreciate that you may have sound rea sons for secrecy. But any information you can give us will help."
There was no hint of impatience in Lord Lunacy's voice when he spoke again. "We were discussing your failure to capture the Sword Bearer. What will be your next move?"
"Next I shall draw them, flaming with thirst, to the Pool of Taavath Basar." He was smiling to himself as he said it.
John and Eleanor woke late to find that Authentio had already prepared a large breakfast and food to take on their journey. "I have been thinking much," he said as they ate together. If Shagah has taken the trouble to throw his enchantments around us in this way, he may also have harmed my village, which lies in the path of our journey."
