They passed between two uniform rows of trees. There were food gardens beyond the trees in both directions. The few people who were working in the gardens seemed to pay no attention to the arrival of the strangers.
They finally reached the steps of a large stone building that rivaled the aban trees for height. Rising above the building stood four narrow, windowless towers.
“The way this city is built reminds me a lot of Port Bhalvar,” Gringers said to Theon as they followed Kelsan up the steps. “The climbing stairways, the terraced gardens. Think of the years it must have taken to build such a place.”
“I’m thinking more about the people needed to build it. Where is everyone? I don’t like this, Gringers. I still think we should get out of here while we are all in one piece.”
“Not yet, friend. If our climb over the Draak’s Teeth is to mean anything at all, we’ve got to have some kind of proof that the legends behind Barl-gan are true.”
“Would one of those light weapons be proof enough?”
“It would be a start, but don’t get light-fingered too soon. Maybe we can trade for what we want.”
“Trade? What’ve we got to trade with?”
“Diak’s box should be worth a few of those weapons, I’d think. Maybe a lot more.”
The steps brought them up to a long, narrow porch that ran the length of the building. The doors leading inside stood open. The light in the first room they entered came from the windows facing north, but the windowless rooms beyond were lighted by glowing panels on the ceilings. At first Bhaldavin thought the strange light panels were made of thin sheets of vellum that would allow the outside sunlight to come through, then he remembered the walls of stone rising above the ground floor and knew that there was no way the sunlight could penetrate such stonework.
The hall they walked through was bare except for a series of paintings that were placed at various intervals along the walls. The paintings varied in style; some were portraits, others depicted scenes in and around the cliff-side city.
Bhaldavin had seen little of man’s artwork and was pleasantly surprised by the depth and color in the paintings. He became so engrossed with one of the paintings that he was left behind.
A poke in the back startled him out of his reverie. He turned to find Birdfoot standing behind him, motioning him to move along. He glanced one last time at the strange but beautiful four-legged creature in the painting and hurried after Gringers and the others, wondering if the animal the artist had painted was a real thing or a dream thing. The sky in the picture had been blue, not mint green, and the flat land with its oddly shaped rock formations—was there ever such a place on Lach?
If men had come from another world, he thought, perhaps what he’d just seen was something from that other world. The idea intrigued him, and he would have given much to stop and take a closer look at the rest of the paintings in the hall.
They passed ten doors off the hall. Three stood open, revealing rooms that looked cluttered but comfortable. As they passed, several men stepped out into the hallway, their curious glances and excited voices following the newcomers toward the set of double doors at the end of the hall.
Kelsan knocked, and the doors swung open. Birdfoot and his men herded their charges into the room beyond and closed the door on those who had followed.
Gringers and the others looked around the large, windowless room. All they saw was a huge chair sitting in front of a long panel of red drapes on the far side of the room, and a few less-ornate chairs scattered about the room.
Kelsan spoke softly to the old man who had opened the doors. The old man, bent with some kind of crippling disease, whispered to Kelsan, then motioned them all forward.
Bhaldavin saw the old man touch several places on the wall, and instantly the lighted panels overhead dimmed.
“Come,” Kelsan said, leading them toward the other side of the room. “Barl-et-Bara will be with us soon. We’ll await him over here.”
Theon was unable to restrain his curiosity any longer. “Where does the light come from, Kelsan? How do you control it?”
Kelsan glanced up, then back over his shoulder, smiling mysteriously. “From the wind towers, of course. But I forgot—the Wastelanders have lost all knowledge of electricity, haven’t they? Just as they have lost all knowledge of their beginnings. It’s a shame your people will not cooperate with us. We could both gain from—”
There was movement behind the drapes. Kelsan stopped speaking and signaled his men. Birdfoot and the rest of his men moved up behind Gringers, Hallon, Theon, and Bhaldavin. The pinpricks of knives were felt by all.
“Stand quietly,” Kelsan said softly, “and you will not be hurt.”
Kelsan turned and faced the drapes. “All is secure, my lords.”
The draperies moved, and two men stepped out of the darkness behind the chair into the dim light.
Theon’s eyes started from his head. “It can’t be. It’s impossible!”
Gringers’s indrawn breath of astonishment was matched by an inarticulate cry from Hallon. Diak and Bhaldavin just stared, unable to believe what they were seeing.
Bhaldavin swallowed again and again, fighting for breath and trying to stop the queasiness in his stomach. He blinked and then shook his head, praying that the terrible apparition before him would disappear, for Barl-et-Bara, lords of Barl-gan, were two in one, an impossibility that refused to vanish.
They were tall and strong-looking. From the hips down, they were as one man; from the stomach up, they were two. Their outside arms hung down from their sides in normal fashion, their other two arms were carried about one another’s waist in a casual embrace. Their faces were identical. They had straight noses, full lips, and deep-set, dark eyes that glittered with intelligence. Thick black hair framed both faces. The right head went unadorned, the left wore a golden band around its forehead and a single gold earring in its left earlobe. The face to the right was sober, the one to the left wore a scornful smile, as if pleased to know that his guests were startled if not frightened by their appearance.
“These are my lords, Barl-et-Bara,” Kelsan announced. “My lords, I bring you visitors. They are named Gringers, Hallon, Diak, Theon, and Bhaldavin.”
The head to the left grinned and spoke, his booming voice filling the room. “I am Barl.”
“I am Bara,” the other head said in a more modest tone. “We welcome you to Barl-gan.”
Too stunned to speak, Gringers and the others simply stared.
“Welcome is not exactly as I would have said it, Bara,” Barl countered, “until we know where they come from and why they’re here.”
Bara turned to his brother. “If you had listened to the green-haired woman, you would already know that.”
“I listened,” Barl snapped. “But that doesn’t mean I believed all she told us.”
“No one can lie to me. You know that. What she said was true. It means that we are no longer alone. Can’t you see what—”
“I see! More than you credit me with. Now be still. I’m leader this year. Things will be done as I say.”
“Barl, would you please listen?”
Barl glared at his other half. “No! Not now! We can talk later, when we’re alone.”
Theon started to giggle uncontrollably. Gringers grabbed him by the arm. “Quiet! What’s gotten into you?”
“He’s arguing with himself,” Theon sputtered. “I don’t believe it. It can’t be real.”
Gringers didn’t like the wild look in Theon’s eyes. He shook him. “Stop it. You’re going to get us in trouble.”
“Trouble?” Theon crowed. “No trouble. It’s all an illusion. Don’t you see? It’s not possible. It can’t be real.”
“Theon!” Gringers cried, trying to hold on to the smaller man as he backed away. “Hallon, help me.”
But before Hallon could move, Barl-et-Bara was there, pushing Gringers aside. “Not real?” Barl yelled. “Filth! Guttershit! Ratface! I’ll show you real!”
Kelsan’s men moved in to restrain Gringers, Hallon, Diak, and Bhaldavin only a moment or two after their lords attacked Theon.
“No, Barl,” Bara cried as Barl pulled Theon from his feet. “Put him down. Put him down!”
Crushed up against Barl’s chest, face-to-face with a nightmarish being who screamed obscenities at him, Theon gibbered incoherently, flailing and kicking wildly.
Bara caught at his brother’s arm, trying to break his hold. Barl swore and swung his right elbow up and back, catching Bara in the mouth.
“Leave me alone,” Barl cried.
Blood dribbled from Bara’s lips as he renewed his struggle with his brother. “Barl! Let him go!”
Barl’s eyes glittered with malicious contempt. “Is that what you really want, Brother? For me to let him go?”
“Yes.”
Barl laughed an ugly laugh, caught Theon up by a leg and arm, raised him high over his head, and hurled him across the floor. “So be it.”
The snap of bone was audible as Theon hit the stone floor. His scream of pain left Gringers white with rage. He ceased his battle with the two men clinging to his arms and glared at Kelsan.
“If they are your lords, Kelsan Watcher, I think you have chosen unwisely.” Gringers spoke loud enough for all to hear.
Barl-et-Bara looked at Gringers. Barl’s face was flushed with triumph. Bara was frowning and wiping blood from his lips.
“Boldly said, stranger,” Barl snapped. “Do you also wish a taste of my reality?”
“That is precisely what he wants, Brother,” Bara said coldly. “Look at him. He’s not afraid of you. He would like nothing better than to have his hands around your neck. And I don’t blame him.”
Barl frowned at Bara, then looked at Gringers. “A fight? Yes. That might prove very interesting. He looks like he could give us a good battle.”
“Not us, ” Bara said. “You fight him—you fight alone.”
Barl turned to his brother. “You know, I might try that if I thought you’d stay out of it, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you’d fight on his side just to teach me a lesson. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“You need a lesson taught you. One in manners.”
Barl shook his head. “And you would like to be the one to teach me? You’re too late, Brother. I’ve had all the schooling I want. I’ll leave you to do the studying, thank you. I have more important things on my mind, such as thieving Wastelanders.”
Bara turned his head away. “There are moments, Brother, when I wish I never had to see you again.”
“You aren’t the only one to wish that,” Barl snapped.
Silence descended on the room, broken only by Theon’s soft moaning.
Barl looked at the crumpled figure and spoke to Kelsan. “Leave the big one”—he pointed at Gringers —“and take the others somewhere and lock them up. We’ll talk to them later, one by one.”
Theon flinched as Diak and one of Kelsan’s men touched him.
“It’s Diak, Theon. Come, sit up if you can.”
“My arm. It’s broken.”
“We’ll take care of it. Can you stand up? Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“Don’t think so,” Theon snuffled. His glance darted around fearfully. It touched upon Barl-et-Bara and snapped away.
Diak and the other man helped Theon up and led him toward the hallway doors. Hallon and Bhaldavin were brought along by four others.
Theon looked at Diak as the doors closed behind them. “What’s going to happen to Gringers?” There was fear in his voice.
“Barl-et-Bara is just going to talk to him,” Diak said.
Tears began to well in Theon’s eyes. “Not true. They’re going to kill him. They’re going to kill us all. That—that monster’s not sane.” Theon shuddered.
Kelsan’s voice came from behind. “Some things are better off not said, Wastelander! Barl-et-Bara are sane, at least as sane as the majority here in Barl-gan, and they are also very dangerous. So be warned! Guard your tongue and make no trouble and maybe—just maybe—they will let you live.”
Chapter 24
THEON PACED RESTLESSLY AROUND THE ROOM, muttering softly to himself. He passed behind Hallon and Diak, who sat on a cushioned couch they had drawn into the center of the room. “It’s been hours,” he said, nervously glancing at the closed door. “Why haven’t they brought him back?”
Bhaldavin looked up from his position on the floor. Spread before him was an array of picture cards, which Diak had said were probably used in some kind of game. He had been studying the brightly colored cards for some time, moving them around to make eye-pleasing patterns.
“He’s probably still talking to Barl-et-Bara,” Diak said, trying to calm Theon’s fears.
Theon touched his makeshift cast. “Either that or he’s dead.” There was a bleak look on his face. “They can take us out of here one at a time, kill us, and those left behind would never know—until it’s their turn.”
“Are you suggesting we try to escape?” Hallon asked.
“It’s better than sitting here waiting to be slaughtered, isn’t it?” Theon grasped at the leather thong about his neck and pulled a hidden knife from the back of his tunic. He held the knife clumsily in his left hand.
“Here,” he said, handing the knife to Hallon. “It will be of more use in your hand than mine.”
Hallon accepted the knife and turned to Diak. “What do you think?”
“I wouldn’t be of much use to you in a fight, nor would Bhaldavin with only one arm, but if you mean to try something, we’d back you.”
Bhaldavin met the old man’s glance and nodded. He didn’t like the waiting any more than the others did, and he was very worried about Lil-el. From what had been said, he believed she was somewhere within the confines of the huge building, if she was still alive. After witnessing Barl-et-Bara’s attack on Theon, he feared for anyone who came within reach of the strange twins. The thought of standing alone before them made him shiver. The existence of such a creature was beyond his wildest dreams.
Diak had explained that close inbreeding among a relatively small group of people might account for most of the deformities they’d seen among the people of Barl-gan; but even he had to admit that the joining of Barl-et-Bara at the waist was a deformity that almost went beyond the realm of possibilities.
Suddenly the door behind Theon opened. Kelsan Watcher, Birdfoot, and three others entered the room.
“You’re next,” Kelsan said, pointing at Theon.
“Where’s Gringers?” Theon demanded.
“He has been given private quarters,” Kelsan answered. “Come. Barl-et-Bara waits.”
Theon backed away. “No! I’ll go nowhere until you bring Gringers back here.”
Hallon, Diak, and Bhaldavin all stood up as Kelsan signaled Birdfoot to collect Theon.
“Stay away from me,” Theon cried. “I’m not going anywhere until you prove to me that Gringers is all right.”
“He is fine,” Kelsan said firmly. “He was taken to—”
“Liar! You’ve killed him. I know it. Damn you and your misshapen lords. Now, Hallon,” Theon screamed and launched himself at Birdfoot.
Birdfoot moved quickly, sidestepping Theon’s lunge and slamming his fist down on his back. Diak, Bhaldavin, and Hallon rushed the doorway as Theon hit the floor.
Kelsan shouted, then suddenly a flash of light caught Hallon full in the chest. Head thrown back, he screamed, dropped Theon’s knife, and clutched at his chest; then he crumpled to the floor. Bhaldavin tripped over him. Diak halted, eyes wide at the sight of the light weapon pointed at his face.
Kelsan turned on the man who had used the light weapon. He knocked the man’s arm down, cursing. “Fool, Barl-et-Bara wants them alive.”
“But he had a weapon,” the man protested.
“They were supposed to have been checked for weapons.” Kelsan glared at his men. “Check them now. Strip them if you must.”
While that was being
done, Kelsan walked to Hallon’s still form and turned him over. He muttered something to himself and stood up.
Birdfoot had Theon stripped to the skin in seconds. He left the arm splint intact. Diak and Bhaldavin were accorded the same treatment. Once assured that there were no other weapons in the prisoners’ possession, Kelsan ordered that Theon be taken to Barl-et-Bara immediately.
Theon bent to reach for his clothes. Birdfoot kicked them away and caught him by his good arm. Theon’s face was chalk-white as he was pushed through the doorway.
Diak went to Hallon as soon as the door closed. Bhaldavin stood quietly, waiting.
“Oh, my dear boy,” Diak sobbed softly. “To have come so far only to die like that. What have I done to you? What have I done?”
Bhaldavin dressed, then helped Diak into his clothes. The old man went to the couch and sat down, his head dropping into his hands.
Bhaldavin moved around the couch and went to stand over Hallon’s body. He could see where the light had burned into Hallon’s chest. There was very little blood. He knelt and picked up Hallon’s hands; both were charred. He glanced at Hallon’s open eyes and quickly looked away, suddenly remembering little things about the man, things that touched him with sadness: his voice, the way he held his head when he laughed, his quiet presence around the campfires, the strength in his hands as he reached out to help the others over the difficult places while climbing in the mountains.
In that moment he realized that his perception of Hallon as a mere extension of Gringers had been wrong, that he had been much more than just Gringers’s cousin, that he had been a stabilizing force for them all.
He looked over at Diak, suddenly wanting to comfort the old man but not sure how to go about it. To have such feelings toward men was a revelation for him. He had spent so many months hating these men for keeping him prisoner that he had failed to see the tendrils of friendship silently weaving their bonds around him.
And so you capture me at last, he mused, standing and moving toward the couch. The love I fought so hard against has taken me unawares.
Beyond the Draak’s Teeth Page 22
