by Dave Duncan
“Experienced in what?”
At that moment T’lin shouted, “Zomph!” and Eleal was thrown back against the baggage plate as the dragons flashed into high speed. Whatever Sister Ahn said was lost in the wind.
The ridge curved as the valley had done; T’lin led his troupe down a steep slope and straight up the other side. Dragons were in their element in mountain terrain. Roaring with excitement, they raced one another up hills and slid down long scree slopes in showers of gravel. Eleal understood then why they stayed so far apart, and she also realized this crossing might take much less time than the plodding mammoths needed for their long trek over Rilepass. Soon the air grew cold, although the wind was not as fierce as she would have expected. Even grass became rare and gray stone stretched out everywhere.
Starlight was chief dragon, but he labored under T’lin’s substantial weight. With his much lighter burden, Lightning took to challenging him for the lead position, and then the pace became fierce indeed. As T’lin had said, the old dun was wily, with a good eye for the easiest routes. The two females, Blaze and Beauty, scorned to play such foolish games and were soon left far behind.
Eventually they vanished altogether, and T’lin called a halt. Eleal rode up beside him. Starlight and Lightning belched weakly at each other, puffing clouds of steam into the wind. The dragon trader himself was flushed and grinning.
“You know what that is, Jewel of the Mountains?” He gestured at a wall of dirty white blocking the valley ahead from side to side. It was bleeding a torrent of frothy green water.
“It remarkably resembles snow, but I am sure you would not have asked if the answer was so obvious.”
He nodded, uncorking his canteen. “It’s an old avalanche.”
Eleal looked around uneasily. On either side the valley walls rose in cliffs and scarps and impossible slopes, mostly still mantled with winter snow. At the top sunlight glinted on parapets of ice, a white frame around deep blue sky.
“Meaning this place is dangerous?”
He took a long drink. He nodded as he wiped his mouth. “If Ois wants it to be. Listen!”
She listened. There was only the dragons’ puffing and the chatter of the stream and…a distant rumble of thunder?
“There goes another!” T’lin said with an unconvincing smirk.
They peered around, but the wall of snow prevented a proper view of the valley ahead.
“We should ride along the top,” she said. “Then nothing can fall on us.”
“It might fall on us as we went up. It might fall when we were on top of it. Praise the goddess.” T’lin sighed, staring back the way they had come. “What does holy scripture tell us about squabbles between the gods?”
“Scripture I leave to the priests. I can tell you what happens in drama, though.”
“So what happens in drama, Embodiment of Ember’l?”
“They usually appeal to the Parent.”
“And what happens then, Wisdom?” His green eyes fixed on her with a quizzical expression she could not read.
“He sends them away. That’s in Act One. In Act Three he renders judgment. Then we all come out and bow and pass the plate again.”
Dragontrader busied himself replacing his canteen in his pack.
“You think that’s what’s happening?” she asked. “You think the Lady has gone to appeal to Visek?”
He shrugged and smiled. “I am only a humble dragon trader. You are the fountain of the arts, the Avatar of Astina. If you don’t know, then what mortal can understand the gods?”
She thought over all the tragedies she could remember. “Prophecy’s one of Visek’s attributes. Being god of destiny, he will not allow the others to block the fulfillment!”
“Truly your insight is comforting. Have you discovered yet what the prophecy prophesies for you?”
“No. Sister Ahn was about to tell me at the last stop, and you interrupted.” And he had done so deliberately.
“It says that during the seven hundredth Festival of Tion—that’s now, starting tonight—that the Liberator will be born.” T’lin raised a coppery eyebrow to ask what Eleal thought about that.
“Who’s the Liberator?”
“His name is not given. He is the son of Kameron Kisster.”
“Who’s he, and what’s a Kisster?”
The dragon trader shrugged his bulky shoulders. “I do not know these things! Perhaps it is all his given name—Kameron-kisster?”
Eleal searched his face for signs that he was making all this up, in some stupid, stupid game. T’lin might, but Sister Ahn had displayed no signs of a sense of humor, and reapers had to be taken seriously.
“Who or what does the Liberator liberate?”
“And from whom? Or from what? That is not so clear at all. The Testament implies he will be very, very important, but it sort of takes that for granted and does not say how, except for one sort of hint.”
“What sort of hint?” she snapped.
“It implies he will kill Death.”
“I think I would class that as an important act.”
“It probably doesn’t mean what it seems to mean, though. What it does say is that he will be born sometime in the next few days, in Sussvale.”
T’lin had not known this in Embiliina Sculptor’s kitchen, or at least had not admitted knowing it. His obvious amusement was very irritating.
“And what does it say about me?” she demanded crossly.
“Ah. Here come the others now.”
“You are being deliberately aggravating!” Eleal said in Ambria’s most disapproving tone.
He stroked his red beard. “I think I would wager that you do not have the right sort of experience. You had best take those lessons from the old hag at the earliest possible opportunity.”
“Lesson in what?” Eleal demanded through clenched teeth.
“Delivering babies.”
“What!?”
“That is correct, Beloved of the Gods. Naked and crying he shall come into the world and Eleal shall wash him. She shall clothe him and nurse him and comfort him. That’s what it says about you.” T’lin shook with silent mirth, so that Starlight turned his head around and peered at him curiously. “I don’t suppose ‘nursing’ means ‘suckling,’ unless there are some miracles mentioned I missed.”
Personage of Historic Importance?
“That’s all? There isn’t any more? I don’t believe you! Why would I be threatened by a reaper and imprisoned for life by a goddess if all I’m going to do is help some woman have a baby?” Let Kameronkisster go hire a midwife!
“But a very important baby! Even I was small and helpless when I was born. Beautiful, of course, because of my beard. All the witnesses agreed that they had never seen so—”
“So that’s where you went last night? That’s why you weren’t at the camp when Gim and I arrived. You went to visit someone who has a copy of the Testament?”
Seeing a glint of suspicion in Dragontrader’s eye, Eleal hastily added, “Some rancher friend, I suppose—outside the city?”
“A very shrewd guess, Goddess of Curiosity.”
“There isn’t any more about me, or you didn’t have time to read any more?”
The other two dragons were closing in, puffing.
T’lin chuckled. “All right! No, I didn’t have time to read the whole thing, or anything like the whole thing. It’s a terrible jumble. There may be more about you in there—I don’t know.” He turned Starlight to face the newcomers.
That, she decided, was better.
Delivering babies? Yuu-uck!
A little later, walking their heated mounts up the valley, they saw an avalanche descend in white smoke and, later, thunder. It did not come close. Just a warning, Eleal thought, a sign that the Lady was still angry. She made the sign of Tion, and probably Gim did also. Sister Ahn cl
asped her hands in a prayer to Astina. T’lin made a gesture Eleal did not quite see.
The ascent out of the gorge was almost vertical, it ended in a scramble up a face of sheer ice. Nothing but a dragon could have gone that way, except birds. The surface of the glacier was a jagged nightmare, blindingly bright and swept by a cruel wind. It formed a saddle between two jagged peaks, and the mountains ahead were lower.
Soon it dipped. It dipped more steeply. Then Lightning launched himself like a toboggan and went sweeping off with Eleal screaming, “Zappan!” on his back and T’lin shouts of warning fading in the distance. She was too scared even to close her eyes. Cold wind rushed past, peppering her face with gritty snowflakes. Faster and faster, and she had heart-stopping visions of hurtling out over a precipice.
She did not. The crafty old dragon seemed to know what he was doing. He came to rest in a flat snowfield far below, belching contentedly to himself and twisting his long neck to watch the others follow the trail he had laid out.
“When we get to Sussland, lizard,” Eleal said grimly, “I shall take off these accursed leggings and strangle you with them.”
Going down was usually faster than going up, but Eleal—as an experienced traveler—knew that this descent would take longer than the climb, because Sussland lay so much lower than Narshland. Yet soon the snow had been left behind and what had seemed to be more snow ahead turned out to be the tops of clouds. Mist crept in on every hand, transforming the sun to a glowing silver disk and the world itself to a circle of rock no larger than the amphitheater at Suss. Always the dragons headed downward; the air grew steadily warmer and damper. The dragons had a discerning eye for the easiest path, although several times Eleal found herself leaning on the pommel plate and staring straight down while Lightning negotiated a near-vertical face. Once he turned around and descended backward, as Starlight had at the temple.
Grass appeared and eventually straggly shrubs, silvery with dew. It was still not yet noon when the first blighted trees emerged from the fog and T’lin called Starlight to a halt. The other dragons closed in, scales shining wetly, breath cloudy.
“Looks like a good spot for lunch,” he said. “Strip off the tack and let them graze, Wrangler. Food’s in that pack. Wosok!”
T’lin was in a good mood. He helped Sister Ahn dismount. She was probably too stiff to have managed by herself, although she did not utter as much as a wince. He retrieved her sword and attached it to her belt; then he escorted her over to the little stream where Eleal was already gulping ice-cold water.
With both men thus occupied, Eleal slipped off into the rocks to make some necessary adjustments. Already she was far too hot, and in Sussland itself the heat would be stifling. She removed her wool sweater, replaced the smock and coat, and headed back to see what Gim was unpacking.
With the suddenness of a cock crow, the sun’s disk brightened. The sky turned from white to blue as if the gods had drawn back curtains. The mist dispersed and Sussland was laid out far below like a painting, framed between two massive cliffs. Gim was kneeling with a loaf of bread forgotten in his hands, staring openmouthed.
“There it is,” Eleal said cheerfully. “Green, isn’t it? Suss itself is over there. I don’t suppose you can make out the city, but that bright spot is sunlight on the roof of the temple. It’s gold, you know. The gap in the mountains beyond is Monpass, to Joalvale. I’ve been over that one lots of times. The place in the middle with all the trees is Ruatvil, but that’s mostly ruins. I know—I’ve been there. The Thargians still call this Ruatland, did you know that? The gorge is Susswater. It’s a much bigger river than Narshwater, and it flows west, not east. There’s only two places you can cross it. Filoby is over there.” She pointed to the right, although she suspected that Filoby itself might be behind the mountain.
Gim nodded, then sprang back into motion as T’lin came striding over. Eleal turned to him.
“We’re coming down right on top of Thogwalby, Dragontrader.”
“Or will do, if we can find a way through the forest.” He flopped down on the grass and produced his knife. As he reached for the bread, Eleal sat down also.
“Aren’t you going to say grace?”
T’lin shot a penetrating green glare at her. “No. I earned this. You can thank the gods or thank me, as you prefer.”
Even Eleal was surprised by that, and Gim looked truly shocked, but he said nothing. Sister Ahn was hobbling over to them, leaning on her staff and weighted down with her ridiculous sword.
“What’s at Thogwalby?” Gim asked. He was apparently waiting for the nun to arrive before starting to eat.
Eleal bit into a peach. “A monastery.”
“Not much else,” T’lin said with his mouth full. “Green brothers. Don’t allow women near the place.”
“Not even these two?” Gim grinned shyly.
Dragontrader shook his head.
“Garward Karzon, god of strength,” Eleal explained. “Men go there to train for the festival.” She had never been to Thogwalby and was annoyed to hear that she might miss it this time. “Some of them stay there year after year!”
“And never see a woman,” T’lin agreed. “Lot of sacrifice for a miserable flower in their hair, if you ask me.”
Gim bristled. “The principle is that all mortal achievement is transitory, sir, and the roses fade after—”
“I know the principle, lad. It’s the practice that would bother me.”
Gim clenched his lips and did not reply.
Sister Ahn settled awkwardly to the ground, clasped her hands in prayer, then helped herself to a slice of bread and a piece of cheese. Apparently she considered the cost of food to be included in the fare, because she did not offer additional payment. Her face was gray with fatigue.
T’lin chewed for a while, studying her. Finally he said, “Sister? We’re going to come down somewhere near Thogwalby. Where do we deliver our Maiden of Destiny?”
The nun blinked her faded, filmy eyes at him. “I am not familiar with the geography, T’lin Dragontrader. The prophecies do not specify a location. I am sure the gods will provide.”
“One way or the other? According to our little Toast of the World, there are at least two reapers skulking around Sussia now, and at least one of them knows her and will kill her on sight.”
“Two reapers?” Sister Ahn turned her head stiffly to look at Eleal. “Tell me, child.”
All the taste had gone out of the food. Eleal recounted the tale of Dolm Actor again.
The nun frowned as if worried, but did not comment. There was a long silence while everyone waited for her to finish chewing, but she just kept on and on. Dragons crunched grass in the background.
“Why don’t you mention his name?” Gim asked. “You didn’t last night, either.”
“Because if you know a reaper, he will know you know him! I am trying to spare your life, that’s all.”
Gim gulped, and looked at the other two for confirmation. The nun was still chewing, staring at the ground. T’lin was frowning. After a while he said, “The convent at Filoby will take you in, Sister.”
The old woman nodded, not looking up.
“And the girl also.”
“Zappan to that!” Eleal said. “I did not escape from the red just to be trapped by the blue. To be a priestess is not my ambition, T’lin Dragontrader!”
“No self-respecting goddess would have you anyway, minx. You want to go to Suss and join your friends?”
“Er, no.” One of those “friends” was a reaper, and from the glint in T’lin’s eye he had guessed as much.
“The sisters will grant you shelter while the festival is on, I’m sure.” T’lin popped a last fragment of cheese in his mouth. “What happens after depends on what happens during. Maybe nothing.”
Life, Eleal decided, had become very much like that journey in the mist—straight d
own with no clear future in sight. What happened after she had delivered that unthinkable baby? Would Tion reward her when she had fulfilled the prophecy? Would the Lady bear a grudge, so she would have to wander the world forever like Hoinyok in The Monk’s Curse?
“Eleal?” Gim said, “tell me about the festival.” He was smiling wistfully. Sister Ahn had drifted off to sleep where she sat, head down, a small huddle of threadbare blue cloth. T’lin had stretched out on the grass, soaking up sunshine.
“Well!” Eleal pondered. “It would take me all day to tell you everything. It always begins on Thighday evening, with a service in the temple. That’s not in the city, it’s outside. The next day there’s the dedication. Then all the athletes go off on the circuit and the artistic events begin.”
“Circuit of what?”
“Sussvale. It takes four days. They stay at Thogwalby, and Filoby, and Jogby. Every day the last few are disqualified and lots just drop out.”
Gim’s blue eyes widened. “Why?”
“Exhaustion, of course! Sussland’s always hot as an oven. At Thogwalby they honor Garward. At Filoby they have another dedication, to lilah. She’s goddess of athletes. They spend the night in the sacred grove there.” She sniggered. “One year there was a thunderstorm and they all caught colds! Next day they march to Jogby.”
“What do they do there?”
“Lick their blisters.”
“I mean what god do they worship?” Gim said crossly.
Eleal could not recall ever hearing of a temple at Jogby. “None! You don’t have to go round by Jogby to get to Suss, so I’ve never been there. I suspect it’s just a ploy to keep them out of the way. By the time the brawn gets back to Suss, we artists’ve usually got most of the individual performances out of the way, and a lot of the plays, too. The end is on Headday, of course. The roses are awarded and the winners parade into the temple to thank Tion, and all the cripples and invalids are brought in and the god performs a miracle…What are you grinning about?”
Gim scrambled to his feet and went sauntering off as if to admire the view. Eleal went after him.
