Enchantress from the Stars

by Sylvia Engdahl

  There were angry mutterings, followed by an ominous silence. When at length it was broken the villagers spoke not to the Lady, but to one another. “She has cast a spell upon us!” declared someone. “She speaks in the tongue of demons, yet we understand as though it were human speech.”

  “I do not understand,” answered one surly fellow. “But she is a witch, without doubt; one has only to look at her to see that!”

  “A dealer in fell magic,” agreed another, and fear was in his eyes, fear masked by hatred. “What else should we expect if we are fools enough to come into the Enchanted Forest, to remain even past nightfall? Are we now simply to stand here and let her bewitch us all?”

  “Not unless we are witless,” a third man growled. “There are ways of dealing with a sorceress, whether she come out of the Enchanted Forest or no.”

  The greatest danger in the Enchanted Forest at the moment, Georyn thought, might well be from the fearfulness and mistrust of men rather than from any magical force. Grievous misgivings had he had about the wisdom of confronting these people; without questioning the power of the Enchantress, he had deemed there to be many things in the real world for which she was ill prepared. An understanding of enchantments was one thing, knowledge of the ways of men something else! Ever since the day she had gone with him to the village, he had known that the Lady had but little of the latter, and he now saw that his concern for her safety had been well founded. The tone of these men’s comments was not at all to his liking.

  Their best hope, it seemed, lay in boldness; so Georyn took a step forward and said firmly, “Not all who practice magic are to be feared. This Lady is a wise and powerful enchantress, whose notice you are unworthy to receive; pay her the honor that is her due.”

  The biggest of the men, who was evidently their leader, stared thoughtfully at Georyn. “She may indeed be a powerful enchantress,” he conceded. “But does she serve good or evil? That is another matter, and one that must be looked into.”

  “She is entirely good!” cried Georyn. “There can be no question!”

  “No question? Ah, but stranger, how do we know that she has not bewitched you? If she has, you would surely defend her.”

  “I defend her because I know her for what she is,” Georyn insisted. He turned to the Enchantress; she stood frozen now in silent dignity, but he could tell that underneath her calm demeanor she was both angry and bewildered.

  “There is a way to find out!” shouted an excited voice. “Let her be put to the test! If she is innocent, no harm will be done by it; and if she is not, it will be no worse than she deserves.” There were cries of approval, and the men moved in closer, surrounding Georyn and the Lady.

  “What foolery is this?” Georyn demanded, but inwardly he quailed, for he already knew.

  “No evil witch,” the leader said darkly, “can face the ordeal of fire and emerge unscathed.”

  “No!” Georyn declared. “I will not have it so!”

  “Have you so little confidence, then?” the man inquired with a slow smile.

  Georyn did not reply. It would not be wise, at this point, to mention that he had far more confidence in the goodness of the Enchantress than in the validity of the test. He put his hand upon his sword, but there were angry shouts, and his arms were seized on either side. His protests could avail nothing; the Lady was beyond his aid.

  She too had been seized, but she remained unshaken; she spoke softly to Georyn while the villagers watched with growing suspicion. “Georyn, tell me what is happening!” she urged. “What have I done that they should treat me so?”

  Then did Georyn reveal the grim truth to the Enchantress, for he realized that she had not taken full meaning from speech not directed toward her; and to his dismay he sensed that she was appalled. Yet her expression did not change. “I am not afraid, Georyn,” she said quietly. “I will submit to this test, if the men demand it.”

  “Will your powers protect you, Lady?”

  “Yes, I shall be shielded,” she replied calmly, but she was very pale. “Do not fear for me; I will come to no harm.”

  “Can you know that certainly, before you are tried?” Georyn asked. He was troubled, for he guessed that she had not faced this particular sort of challenge previously, and were not enchantments at times capricious?

  “Whether I can or not,” she told him, “there appears to be no choice in the matter; and should I fail in courage, my Shield would then surely fail also.”

  That the Enchantress should have a need for courage was a totally new thought to Georyn; he had supposed her above that sort of thing. But if enchanted folk were subject to fear and pain even as men were, she should not risk this ordeal. “If there is any question, Lady,” he said, “I will take the thing upon myself. If one of us must depend blindly upon this Shield, it had best be me; for have I not already committed myself to the protection of the Stone?”

  The Lady managed a weak smile. “That you should make such an offer touches me as has naught else in all my life. But you could not do it, Georyn, even if the men would permit you, which of course they would never do, for it would not suit their purpose.”

  “Build up the fire!” shouted a harsh voice. “Bring the witch; let her look upon it and tremble!” Logs were piled on, and a tower of hot sparks rose upward into the blackness of the Forest. The Enchantress was dragged around to the opposite side of the circle so that she was facing Georyn across the barrier of the fire. The leader of the villagers thrust a long stick into the blaze and drew it out again, a flaming brand; he approached the Lady and brandished it before her. She shrank from it, her eyes dark with apprehension. Georyn could see that she was indeed trembling; he strained for freedom, but his captors held him fast.

  Then in desperation he raised his voice, saying, “Look you, if this enchantress passes your test, which I am sure she can, you will only have made her angry; and the wrath of one so powerful as she is best avoided. Why should you risk that, when there is an easier way? For I have in truth been bewitched by her, even as you said, and therefore you can determine by testing me whether her enchantments be good or ill.”

  “There is sense in what he says,” muttered someone.

  “There is indeed,” agreed the leader. “And besides, it is in my mind that this witch would be better suited to our main purpose than yon hapless maid; yet if she is guilty and dies under the test, she will be useless to us; whereas the fate of the man is of little account.”

  Shouts of assent greeted these words, whereupon Georyn was pushed roughly forward toward the fire; his hands were bound securely behind his back. He was very much afraid, but had he not been afraid before, during the tests to which the Lady herself had subjected him? Surely, if he was indeed destined to challenge the Dragon, which she had assured him that he was, the Stone would protect him now. “And in any case,” he thought, “for it to fail me, if things should come to that, would be better than for her Shield to fail; they might then at least grant her an easier death.”

  Burning brands were now taken up by several of the other men; Georyn considered using the magic charm to rip them from his tormentors’ hands; but this at best would be but a temporary respite, and if he was indeed to draw the attention of these people from the Enchantress it was more to the purpose that he should offer no resistance. He drew a deep breath, hoping that he would be able to meet the coming trial without flinching.

  But even as the villagers advanced upon Georyn, the Enchantress caught their intent, which was by this time all too clear, and the studied calm of her face changed to a look of stark terror. “No!” she cried out. “It is beyond the power of the Stone!” And with that she shook off her startled captors and strode quickly forward to the very edge of the bonfire, which was now blazing furiously from a fresh load of logs. The men murmured in astonishment, for none dared to stand so close as she.

  The hot red light blazed on her silvery garments, and upon her breast the Emblem shone, its myriad facets reflecting the brilliance. Hee
dless of the scorching heat, she knelt. Georyn, across the circle from her, could not actually hear the words her lips formed, but in his mind they sounded as clearly as if she had been speaking to him alone amid the stillness of the wood. Georyn! she said to him. Whatever now betides, remember the Stone! Though it cannot give you the Shield, it is powerful; and its power is independent of mine. If I fail, you still must carry through the quest!

  There was an uncertain pause; the men clustered around, silently. Though they were still hostile, there was no more jeering. The Enchantress looked up toward the stars for a moment. Then, slowly, she stretched her hands out in front of her, plunging them into the heart of the blaze.

  And there was a gasp of awe, for behold! there did indeed seem to be an invisible Shield around the arms of the Enchantress. She held her hands steady, and though flames leapt about them, they were not burned. She smiled triumphantly, holding the eyes of each man in turn, and her face bore no trace of pain.

  Then was Georyn seized by wonder and a great joy; and he stared at the shining Emblem, struck anew by its power and by the valiant spirit of the Lady whom it guarded. None but he knew how very brave she had been. To the others, she was a witch, born without feelings; but he knew that enchantress though she was, she had a human heart, a heart that had known real fear. And he deemed that she had won the protection of the Emblem, even as he had been required to earn that of the Stone, by her willingness to trust in it. There is ever a cost to magic so mighty, he thought, for enchanted folk no less than for men; but surely now we are well armed against the most horrendous of Dragons!

  But not so soon was the ordeal ended, and the bravery both of the Enchantress and of Georyn himself was presently to be sorely tried. For the leader of the villagers strode up to the Lady and pulled her back from the fire, by his roughness breaking the aura of respect that had for a time surrounded her; and as she stumbled to her feet her unscathed arms were grasped and twisted from behind. “Fools!” cried the man, “are you frightened merely because fire cannot hurt her? She can still be made captive.”

  “What are you saying!” exclaimed Georyn. “She passed your test; she is innocent!”

  “Such innocence I want no part of, nor do you, if you are wise.”

  “But she may help to save you from the Dragon!” Georyn protested, using the argument that he felt would have the most weight.

  “She may indeed. The Dragon is angry and has taken many of our best men; we intend to offer it a maiden from our village so that it may be appeased and leave us alone hereafter. But why should we give up one of our own women when fortune has placed this witch in our hands? We will now send her to be the Dragon’s victim and see how well her powers can protect her there.”

  Georyn grew cold; had she not told him that for her to confront the Dragon would be disastrous not only to herself but to the entire quest? He turned to her, reluctantly telling her the gist of this new threat, for she must perforce be warned of it if there was to be any chance of escape. To his horror her eyes grew large with dismay; far greater fright was in them than when she had knelt before the flames.

  The big man held up his torch, illuminating the now-white face of the Enchantress. “Look at her!” he called out. “Dragon’s fire is a hotter flame than our poor blaze; and that, she fears!”

  “If you do this thing,” Georyn said despairingly, “who knows what evil you may bring upon yourselves? The Dragon may not be appeased; it may become more powerful than ever, and then where will you be?” But he perceived that such logic would be of no avail, for to the men, torn between their dread of the Dragon and of the Enchantress’s magic, the vulnerability they now saw in her had been only too welcome.

  “At dawn,” their leader was now declaring, “this witch shall be taken to the place of the demons. For now she shall be bound and kept in yonder stone hut, and you with her, stranger, so that whether you are bewitched or not you cannot help her to escape. In truth, I think that we shall give you to the Dragon also.”

  Thereupon both Georyn and the Enchantress were forced to enter the hut, which was dark and cold, having neither windows nor fire; and their hands and feet were tightly bound with cords. And the Lady was rudely stripped of her shining raiment and given a coarse shift of dark cloth in its place. But the men, rough though they were, dared not touch the Emblem; and, when the door creaked shut behind them, a ray of firelight shining through a wide crack illumined it faintly, the one glimmer of light in that dark place.

  Dulard had seemed only too happy to assign Jarel to the supply ship that was to leave in two days’ time. Probably, Jarel reflected, he was considered a disruptive influence on the colony’s morale because his sympathies were so openly with the natives. All Dulard had said though was, “All right, someone’s got to go in any case, to look after the natives. The regular crew’s got enough on their hands.”

  “Natives?” Jarel had inquired. He could not see why there would be any natives aboard the ship.

  “Specimens for the Research Center. As soon as those headshrinkers hear of a new species they start pestering headquarters about it.”

  Jarel had with great effort concealed the sick feeling that hit him. He was familiar with the Center for Research on Humanoid Species; it was a very old and very respected institution with the highest of scientific reputations. The science of psychology had no doubt been immeasurably advanced by its work. Certainly little would be known of the primitive species of the galaxy without it. All the same, he found the idea sickening. To him, the natives were not mere “specimens” but people, and he did not like to see people kept in captivity.

  “The only problem,” Dulard remarked, “is that they want a female. If Kevan had captured the one he blasted a while back—”

  At last, Jarel had thought bitterly, someone had come up with a legitimate reason to regret one of Kevan’s impulsive killings. Perhaps, though, the poor woman was lucky to have been killed. The Research Center didn’t mistreat its specimens, but still … He was glad that no native girls had ventured into camp, for he didn’t think it likely that a scouting party would be sent out to find one. Dulard was not the man to put the request of some distant scientists ahead of his construction schedules.

  “Anyway,” Dulard had gone on, “we’ll send three or four of the males. Pick out the ones in the best physical shape and give them the standard inoculations, or whatever you medics usually do. I don’t want them contaminating the ship any more than we can help; just having them aboard will tie it up in quarantine long enough as it is.”

  It was a matter of opinion, Jarel had decided, as to who was most likely to contaminate whom. But he had said nothing, thinking that to indulge in any sarcastic remarks just because tomorrow was his last day under Dulard’s command would be a fool thing to do. If he was to have any career in medicine at all, he must leave the Corps with a good record.

  Now, crossing the clearing under the cold black sky, Jarel was more depressed than ever. He wished that he could resign on the spot, without waiting for his tour of duty to be up, without having anything to do with this latest piece of dirty work. Yet there was no escaping it; the natives would be taken aboard the ship with or without his help. The Research Center would undoubtedly want him to start the preliminary medical workup en route, and as a physician he could scarcely refuse.

  Tomorrow night would be his last on this planet, his last on any virgin world, he reflected. It could have been such a thrill, being here, if it had turned out to be anything like what he’d expected. Was he really so green? he wondered. Was Kevan right when he called him a starry-eyed idealist?

  It was too bad he’d never gotten a chance to do any exploring; he still didn’t know much about what lay beyond the forest. What were they doing out there on a night like this, those simple, innocent village folk? Probably sitting by their firesides, little knowing that some of their kind had fallen victim to a cold-blooded bunch of strangers who intended to use them for their own dubious ends. How could they ever imagi
ne the way that “civilized” people were likely to behave toward anybody who happened to be both different and weak?

  Jarel didn’t feel proud of his heritage. He wished, even, that he had been born a native of this world himself. It would be nice to belong to a people with a cleaner slate than the Empire’s.

  No hours so dark had Georyn hitherto known. Hard indeed was it to be an unarmed and helpless prisoner, yet harder still did it seem that the Lady should share this doom. He sensed the apprehension in her mind, and he perceived that in some strange way, mighty as was the enchantment that guarded her, she now had need of his strength. It was a situation that he had never thought to meet; until this night, all his hope had been founded upon his confidence in her wisdom and power.

  At length, he worked his way across the dirt floor of the hut to where the Enchantress sat, but try as he would he could not loosen his hands to reach hers. “It was not fit that they should touch you!” he exclaimed angrily. “They will pay for it, if I am ever free again.”

  “Do not be sorry that they have clothed me thus, Georyn,” she said in a sad, quiet voice. “It is better so, if I must face the Dragon. Even the Emblem must be hidden, if I can find a way to do it; and if I cannot, our position will be still worse than it is now.” She struggled with the cords that bound her hands, but it was useless.

  “Why is that?” Georyn asked, and great was his consternation, for he had considered the Emblem her sole protection.

  She sighed. “I must tell you the truth. Though my magic is powerful, there is a restraint upon it, a restraint that I am bound to obey. The condition under which I wield the Emblem is this: if it or its works are ever revealed to the servants of the Dragon, a great evil will be the result, for the Emblem can aid our cause only so long as they remain unaware of its existence.”