Guardians of the Gate

by Louis Trimble

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  “I hope not,” Eldra agreed, as she efficiently held rein on the little sahr. Despite its size and appearance it drew them forward without hesitation although with no more speed than Teron could have made walking.

  As they climbed up the rutted, spiraling road, they left some of the moist hot air of the seacoast behind, and it was very pleasant to enter the first fringes of forest and find sporadic shade. At length they climbed to such heights that the sea Was out of sight and the air was edged with mountain chill in the deepest shade though the sunlight was still full of genial warmth. The road straightened as it aimed toward a notch in the mountains, and the sahr made much better time. It might even be a match for a very drowsy tortoise at its present pace, Teron thought.

  Eldra seemed to be lost either in her own thoughts or occupied with sending her mind outward. Or perhaps she really needed to give all her attention to driving; the road was rutted.

  His mind moved along its own track lazily review-; ing what he knew of Dule’s geography. Erul was cupped in the Valley of the Comb of Heaven. North of it lay Fenn, a land bordered by famine on the north and feast on the south, which might explain why its ruler, Davok, coveted Erul. And still to the north were the Whitelands. Not that Teron had ever known anyone who’d actually visited them. But he’d read about them in books and he’d studied the Whitelander Saga in the original tongue. Rocan, the Old One, had spoken of the Guardians of the Gate. According to the Saga, they were descendants of the original Whitelanders appointed by Eliff to guard die gate of that small valley in the far north which was Udrig’s prison.

  His thoughts lay so firmly in that fabled northland that it wasn’t until the drum of hoofs was loud and close that he focused his eyes on present reality.

  A crew of sahr-mounted warriors poured out of the trees, blocking the bridge ahead and the road behind. They looked for all the world like illustrations of history.

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  The largest warrior faced them across the bridge, grinning hungrily through a dark ring beard. “The spell- maker and the Seventh together! Eliff be praised!” He laughed heartily and thumped the shoulders of the gaunt man riding next to him with pure pleasure. “Just as you predicted, Korox!” Then he turned his head toward the warriors approaching Eldra and Teron. “Careful with them. I want them breathing when they reach Fenn.” His laughter was heartier than ever.

  “Don’t let them take us,” Eldra pleaded. She actually shivered against him.

  Her terror baffled Teron. During their brief acquaintance he had know her as strong and sympathetic, even from time to time overcompetent. Now the reins fell loose in her hand. Teron grabbed them and slapped the small sahr startling it so that it jumped toward the middle of the bridge, where he jerked it roughly to a halt.

  Eldra’s hands went to her head. “I feel Korox’s evil. The Cold hurts me,” her voice was taut with pain.

  He swung his staff from its holder.

  “Yes. Destroy them. Now, Teron!” Panic thinned her voice.

  “I’m not dying and our lives aren’t in danger ...”

  “If Davok captures us, living will be worse than death.” Her fingers closed on his arm in desperation. “Korox’s thoughts fill my mind—like filth from a pen of meat roabi.”

  Teron knew there were no words to make her understand the awesome oath he’d sworn when he had received the spellstaff from his father.

  Eldra stood up, snatched the reins from Teron’s hand and struck the sahr full across the back With all her strength. “Out of the way, Davok. If you value your life. Teron, spellmaker of Korv, rides beside me!”

  The little sahr ran, urged on by the constant slapping of the reins over its back. Teron admired Eldra’s bluff. He rose and raised his staff carefully adjusting the control with his thumb.

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  As the staff rose, some of the Warriors behind Davok and his wizard, Korox, drew their skittering sahrs aside. The warlord stood his ground though Korox discreetly took cover in the trees to the right. Teron directed his staff at a great rock beside the juncture of bridge and road. The faint line of pale pink light leaped from the staff. The rock exploded, sending smoking fragments of stone through the air.

  Warriors cried in terror and their animals panicked trying to escape the charging cart. Davok held steady until the very last moment when he sent his sahr tumbling aside.

  “Run, little beast!” Eldra cried. She slapped the reins again. The sahr reached the end of the bridge. Teron waved his spellstaff over his head. Davok’s men scattered, but Davok himself reined around, snaking out the tip of a long whip he held. The leathern cord caught Teron’s wrist.

  He swore in surprise and pain. The spellstaff tumbled from his hand to the floor of the cart. Davok cried, “Quickly now!” and raced forward. Two of his men followed. Teron knelt, fumbling for the staff. He grasped it and straightened up in time to see one of Davok’s riders sweep out an arm and pluck Eldra from the cart.

  “Teron!”

  Staff in one hand, he leaped. He came down across the broad back of the sahr. His free hand found the neck ring of the warrior’s leather armor and he used it to keep from being thrown off the racing animal. Eldra lay face down across the rider’s lap, legs and arms flailing.

  “Ride for Fenn!” Davok cried. His voice blasted in Teron’s ear. “Where in Sidris do you think they’d ride —to Erul?” Teron demanded.

  Davok laughed, but when Teron swung the staff in his direction, he reined to one side. Teron waved the staff as he had on the cart, keeping Davok and his warriors well back and in the trees. Once he jammed the butt into the back of the man he clung to.

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  “Turn to your right.’'

  “I cannot,” the warrior gasped. “The female is lying across the reins!”

  One of Eldra’s flailing hands reached out, caught the right side of the reins and jerked. The beast set its splay feet and made a four-legged, jumping turn which headed it at right angles to its former direction. Teron kicked with his heels and the sahr leaped into the thick stand of trees.

  He looked back. The maneuver had caught Davok and the others by surprise. Teron heard Davok bellowing, “After them, fools!” but his voice was soon lost in the distance. Teron continued kicking the sahr and Eldra continued to control the reins. The warrior sat as if made of rock, the butt of Teron’s staff pressed to his back.

  They broke into an open space covered with small burrows. The splayed front hoof of the sahr found the nearest hole and plunged into it. Teron left his seat in a curving arc. The sahr recovered its balance and immediately found another burrow. Eldra slid from the warrior’s lap to land near Teron. The last they saw of the warrior and the sahr, both were fighting desperately to' keep their balance while at the same time getting as far from Teron and his staff as possible.

  The sound of the sahr crackling its way through bushes slowly faded, leaving a silence broken occasionally by soft cursing from Teron. Eldra rose, adjusting her cloak. “Can I help?” she asked, obviously suppressing a giggle.

  He glared up from the thorn bush which held his clothing in a half-dozen places. “If you bend that branch under my right thigh ...”

  She took her time but finally he stood, well away from the bush. “I appreciate being rescued,” she said, “but not quite so violently. You could have saved a lot of trouble by using that staff on Davok.”

  He tried to explain the spellmaker’s oath, but she was too irritated to accept his explanation.

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  He said, “At least we seem to have lost them.”

  She became motionless, her eyes shut. Opening them, she nodded. “I sense no one near.”

  He glanced around. Beyond this stretch of rough ground was a low hill, which curved to rim them on three sides. On the fourth, the route the sahr had taken, was the bush and woodland they had come through. Teron started in that direction but stopped when she made no move to jo
in him.

  “Wrong direction?”

  Her voice was tart. “Right direction. But trust Davok to make camp between here and the road. He’s not a fool. He knows that we have to leave this miserable place and that we have to go back the way we came.”

  Teron looked around again. True, this clearing was far from prepossessing, hut beyond the low hill he could make out higher land. He pointed in that direction. “Let’s find shelter then and stay the night. If we don't appear, maybe Davok will give up, thinking we slipped past him.”

  “You would risk staying here—in the land of the kranol?”

  The word brought long forgotten memories leaping from his early childhood. As was the custom in Korv for a son bom to be a scholar, he had had a succession of governesses, each chosen from one of the lands bordering the Warm Sea. From them he had learned the tongues and the ways of those lands. He recalled now his governess from the Isle of Dule and her fearful tales of kranol. Later he learned that scientific- minded men put the kranol in a class with the night monsters of Korv, more to be feared in the imagination that in reality.

  “I thought kranol lived in caves,” he said.

  “So they do. And their caves are just beyond here, where you pointed.”

  “Then let’s stay here,” he said cheerfully.

  She glowered at him. “Don’t you know anything? Kranol sleep in their caves by day, but at night they

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  come out to feed -and fight. An hour after dark, they will be thick all through this place.”

  Through her irritation and her fear he sensed that she was not fust recounting some ancient tale but that she spoke the truth. He said thoughtfully, “In that case, let’s find a cave of our own. Good rock at our back and a fire to the front should be protection enough.”

  He started away again, but this time toward the higher hills in the near distance. For the second time, Eldra remained where she was. Teron strode on. In his travels he had learned one lesson well: fear was the heaviest burden a man could carry. To approach the unknown with the simple faith of a child was often a wiser way than approaching it with the knowledge of a sage. He saw that he could not rid her of fear with words. He could only hope that she would follow him and see for herself that they would be safe.

  He paused on the slope of the low hill. She remained where she was until he started off again. Then she began to run to catch up to him. Teron stopped on the crest of the hill to wait for her and to look at what lay ahead.

  This hill and the higher one beyond cupped a wide, shallow depression. The face of the higher hill was pocked with caves, and even from this distance Teron could smell the fetid odors sweeping out from thfem.

  Eldra joined him, not speaking. He said lightly, ‘Tour kranol aren’t very sanitary.” He pointed to a notch in the cave-pocked hill. "What lies beyond?”

  “More hills, cliffs and finally the mountains. Erul is beyond them.” She added quickly, “But I know no way over them to the valley.”

  He glanced toward the slanting sun. “We can worry about that later. Right now, let’s see what lies beyond the kranol hill.”

  She followed him silently as he led the way into the depression and toward the notch. They had to pass close to the mouth of one of the larger caves. Enough of the late sun had slipped in to show Teron the beast that

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  lay curled up there, sleeping. He stopped to stare at the snout, the tusks, the bristles.

  “That’s a kranol?” He grinned at her. “I’d call it a wildroabi.”

  “I wish it were," she said. “The men of Erul hunt them for the king’s table. But kranol are different. They have the power to reach into a mind. No man could get close enough to kill one—if he wanted to.” She shivered. “Let’s get away from this terrible place.”

  Her fear was real and strong. Nodding, he followed a path which took them through a gap in the hill to a small canyon. Here there was no smell of kranol, and he found a deep overhang near a tiny spring. Above the overhang was a thick growth of bushes interspaced by small trees. It was a good place.

  Together they collected brush and dry branches for a fire. Eldra was silent, following Teron’s directions without question or complaint; though he noticed she frequently looked toward the gap they had come through as the night drew in about them.

  He started a small fire and soon had water bubbling in a pot taken from his carryall. “I have enough supplies for a meal,” he told her.

  "We’ll be lucky if we aren’t a meal ourselves,” she said. “The kranol will smell our fire and investigate. Then they will scent us and ...”

  “And come against fire?” he asked quietly.

  “As long as we have wood enough and one of us can stay awake, we should be safe,” she admitted. Her voice had lost its tartness, and this told him clearly that her anger had begun to dissolve.

  “Let’s talk of other things,” he said pleasantly. “Tell me why Davok is so eager to get us both to Fenn.”

  “The Old One did not tell you of Davok and Korox?” She answered her own question: “No, he would not have had the time. Then I shall.

  “As I told you, until Korox went to Fenn, Davok was just another warrior, the strongest and so ruler of that miserable land. Korox gave Davok courage and helped

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  him strengthen his army and find ways to weaken us. Now Davok threatens Erul, thanks to Koroxl With his warriors Davok raids across the mountains that protect Erul. He takes our people for hostages, making us give him food and weapons. He hungers to take all Erul— to rule it.”

  “What would a man like Davok do with a beautiful place such as Erul?” he wondered.

  “Less than a year past, he swore that he would soon rule all Zarza,” Eldra said. “And if he should take Erul, he would also take the strength that sustains Eliff. Then Udrig would be able to grow. The time would come when he would break free of his prison. When this happens, our world will be at an end.”

  “Why do you say that Erul provides the strength that sustains Eliff?*

  She stared at him. “Erul believes,” she said. “Erul gives strength to Eliff, and he in return gives powers to—to some of Erul.”

  “To a Seventh,” Teron said. He had to agree. As far as he knew no other country bordering the Warm Se? claimed to have received powers from Eliff. Nor could any other be said to believe in him.

  “Don’t you see,” Eldra cried. “If it is true that Korox is the chosen of Udrig, then he can control the drig. And only you and I, joined, would have strength enough to destroy them.”

  The words of Rocan spoke again in his mind: “The need of Erul is first on all Zarza!”

  When he spoke again, he asked, “And Davok thinks that if he captures us he can prevent us from joining and forming a bond powerful enough to fight the drig?”

  “I don’t know what Davok plans, you heard him swear by Eliff. He may think he can use our powers to aid him in conquest. I do know the thought that lies in Korox’s mind. He will attempt to prevent our joining at all costs.

  “He hasn’t been very successful so far,” Teron pointed out. “As for Davok, he’s a great fool if he believes

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  you and I, singly or together, would ever help him conquer Eml not to mention the rest of Zarza.”

  “Davok is said to use fearsome tortures.”

  “I have some powers of my own,” Teron said. “I can escape from any man-made dungeon.” One of his best acts was escaping from chains and ropes, even from a tank of water while tightly bound and weighted down. The last wasn’t a trick he relished performing and he saved it for the worst of times. So he was only boasting a little about dungeons, he told himself.

  He looked directly at her, a confident smile lighting his mobile actor’s face. “And how could he torture a Seventh into acting for him.” She sniffled and the sound surprised him into dismay. “You wouldn’t use your powers in Davo
k’s service. We both know that.” “You’re making fun of me,” she said, as she wiped at her tears with her fingertips.

  The logic of the opposite sex always baffled him, and Eldra’s he found more puzzling than most “Why do you think I’m making fun of you?”

  “Be—because I don’t have any real powers, and I told you so. Oh, I can talk to beasts and birds like the first Eldra. But I can’t make the rain spells or the sun spells or—or—anything important or useful! But if you don’t believe me why should Davok?” She took a deep, steadying breath, and he felt the effort it took for her to say the next words without sobbing, “And I don’t think I’ll enjoy being tortured by Davok or anyone else.” “You spoke to me with your mind when I was pursued by assassins back in Pirin. You didn’t know me and I was far from you.”

  “And I thanked Eliff. I’d never done it before. I didn’t know I could.”

  He recalled the verses in the Song which described how the first Eldra quieted savage beasts and made silent birds sing but he couldn’t recall the Song describing Eldra’s mind speaking with anyone except Vacor. To him alone had she spoken mind to mind. A fine comfort he was, Teron thought

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  Eldra interrupted, “Can we get more wood, Teron? The kranol are gathering, and our pile is awfully small.” He looked beyond the fire and saw the semicircle of gleaming eyes watching. Beyond the eyes lay darkness and the cliff of kranol caves. At their back were the jagged spined mountains. His eyes measured the un- bumed wood, so dry that the few sticks remaining wouldn’t last until daylight drove the kranol back to their caves.

  He said, “We gathered all the wood we could find around here. To get more, we’d have to go into the darkness.”

  “The kranol would follow us there,” she said. “That’s what they want us to do.”

  Teron nodded. He stared thoughtfully out at the small, bright eyes waiting and watching. His mind ran over the verses of the Song, seeking some kind of inspiration from it. He could, of course, use his spellstaff when the kranol attacked. But he had seen their relatives, wild roabi, in action. A spellstaff might kill half of an attacking pack, but there would be many more coming swiftly. Besides, wholesale killing was not to his taste.