The Redemption of Althalus

by Eddings, Leigh;Eddings, David

  “Well . . .” Leitha frowned slightly.

  “As you go deeper into Eliar’s mind, it will establish that link you mentioned, but isn’t that link there already? Neither one of you talks about it, but it’s there all the same, isn’t it? And isn’t Andine also your sister? And there’s a link there as well, isn’t there?”

  “I suppose there is,” she admitted.

  “Then why are you making such a fuss about something that’s already in place? You’re already locked to Eliar, and you have been ever since we all left Kweron. All you’ll be doing now is bringing it out into the open. We might even want to expand that later and bring everybody into this family get-together. It might just be very useful. Love’s a nice sort of thing, Leitha, so don’t be afraid of it.”

  “I get the feeling that I’m being manipulated,” Leitha said with a helpless little laugh. “What do you think about this, Eliar?”

  “I always wondered what it’d be like to have brothers and sisters,” he said, smiling a bit shyly. “I have a feeling we have to do this anyway, Leitha. You know how Emmy is, and I’d really like to be able to see again.”

  She gently touched his cheek with one lingering hand. “Why don’t we see what we can do about that, brother?” she said fondly.

  ———

  Leitha moved quite slowly, almost timidly, and several times both she and Eliar blushed furiously. “It’s not really that significant, children,” Dweia told them. “Those are just physical differences. They have very little to do with who you really are. All of us are aware of our physical bodies all the time, and that awareness shouldn’t bother you.” She paused, and Althalus could feel her rummaging around. “Let’s start with taste and smell,” she suggested. “They’re a bit simpler. Go find a flower of some sort, Gher.”

  “Any old flower?” the boy asked.

  “One with a fairly strong smell, if you can find one.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Gher promised, dashing from the tent.

  Get one of those greenberries, Althalus, Dweia murmured. Don’t say anything about it. Just get it and put it into Leitha’s mouth.

  I thought they were poisonous.

  Not unless you eat a plateful of them.

  Althalus flickered one hand at Leitha to get her attention, and then he touched one finger to his lips.

  She nodded.

  Althalus went to the rough table and picked up one of the small greenberries. Then he went back to the bed, handed it to Leitha, and pointed at her mouth.

  She nodded again and put the berry in her mouth. As her teeth crushed the berry, she winced and puckered her lips.

  “That’s awful!” Eliar exclaimed, contorting his face and trying to spit something out.

  “Actually, it’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever tasted, Eliar,” Dweia told him. “This is coming along very well.”

  The small yellow flower Gher brought for Leitha to sniff made Eliar break into laughter. “Are you bleeding very much, Gher?” he asked the boy.

  “Bleeding?” Gher asked, puzzled.

  “That’s the flower of the ‘shrub from Hell,’ isn’t it? It’s got a smell that’s almost as sharp as the thorns.”

  It’s working, isn’t it, Em? Althalus said in silent exultation.

  It has so far. Now take Leitha aside and whisper something to her. Their noses and mouths seem to be linked. Let’s try their ears now.

  After Eliar had repeated what Althalus had whispered to Leitha word for word, Dweia told Althalus to tickle Leitha’s foot, and that made Eliar jerk his foot.

  “Four out of four,” Dweia said aloud. “Now we come to the really important one. I want you to lay your cheek against Eliar’s cheek, Leitha. I want your eyes to be as close to his as possible. Don’t think about anything in particular, and just look up at the roof of the tent instead of anyone’s face. Let’s find out if he can see light before we go on to more details.”

  Leitha nodded, went to the side of Eliar’s bed, and knelt beside it. Then she gently put her face against his.

  “I can see!” Eliar exclaimed. “It’s not dark anymore!”

  “Move your eyes slowly, Leitha,” Dweia instructed. “He’ll have to adjust to a few things here. Bring your eyes slowly down and look at Andine.”

  “All right,” Leitha said.

  “She looks different, for some reason,” Eliar complained.

  “Leitha doesn’t see her exactly the way you do, Eliar,” Dweia explained. “Women look at other women in a slightly different way than men do. I don’t think we need to talk about that right now, though. Can you see her clearly?”

  “She seems to be sort of off-center,” Eliar said.

  “What do you mean by that?” Andine demanded indignantly.

  “He wasn’t trying to be insulting, dear,” Dweia said. “He’s seeing you through Leitha’s eyes, and her eyes aren’t exactly where his are. It’ll take a little while for him to get used to that, but we’re past the difficult part now.”

  Dweia was speaking aloud through Althalus in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, but Althalus winced as her exultation began bouncing off the inside of his head.

  “There’s nothing there, Eliar,” Leitha objected, turning back to the young man sitting on the edge of the cot.

  “Please don’t look at me, Leitha,” he said, shuddering. “It makes my head swim to see myself from where you are.”

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized, quickly looking away. “I still can’t see anything that looks like a door, though.”

  Eliar reached out and patted the empty air between them. “But it’s right here. Listen.” He patted a little harder, and they could all hear the sound of his hand slapping against wood. Leitha reached out, feeling around the emptiness with her hand.

  “You just stuck your arm right through the door!” Eliar exclaimed. “What’s happening here, Emmy? That door’s as solid as a brick wall, but Leitha just put her hand completely through it.”

  “The doors only exist for you, Eliar,” she explained with Althalus’ usurped voice. “They aren’t there for anybody else—unless you lead them through. People are walking back and forth through those doors all the time, and they don’t even realize it. The Knife’s involved, and the Knife complicates things. Can you stand up?”

  “I feel fine now, Emmy—except for this headache.”

  “Stand up slowly. Leitha and Andine can support you and make sure you don’t fall. You’re going to be using Leitha’s eyes, so the door handle’s not going to be exactly where your hand thinks it’s going to be, so you’ll have to feel around to find it. Once you get hold of the handle, open the door, and the three of you can come home.”

  “Leitha and Andine will be coming right back, won’t they?” Bheid asked.

  “No. They’ll be staying here with Eliar and me.”

  “Wait a minute, Em,” Althalus objected. “We need Leitha here. We’ve already lost the doors. If something should happen and we lose our ears as well, we’re going to be in deep trouble.”

  “I’m going to need Leitha here much more than you need her there, pet. You can get along without her for a little while, and I can’t. I’m not going to argue with you about it, Althalus; this is the way we’re going to do it.”

  Leitha and Andine helped Eliar to his feet and supported him as he groped for the door handle that only he could see. Then his hand closed around something. “There it is,” he said, and then the three of them stepped out of sight.

  “How long will it be until Leitha comes back?” Sergeant Khalor asked in a worried voice.

  “There’s no way to tell for certain, Sergeant,” Althalus replied. “It all depends on how badly Eliar’s been injured. If it’s just some bruising that needs to heal, it won’t be very long. If it’s really serious, it could be quite a bit longer. He has to use Leitha’s eyes until his own are working again.” Althalus kept his tone flat and matter-of-fact.

  “I thought Dweia could stop time there in the House,” Chief Albron ob
jected.

  “That involves the doors, too,” Althalus told him. “I’m not sure just exactly what Emmy’s going to have to do to him to make his eyes work again, so I imagine time might have to keep moving. It all gets a little complicated.”

  “Now I’ve lost my ears, too,” Khalor said. “Without Leitha to do my eavesdropping for me, I have no way of knowing what the enemy’s going to try next.”

  “We might have to pull Gebhel entirely out of the trenches, Sergeant,” Chief Albron suggested. “He could fall back a few miles and dig in again.”

  “All that’d do is delay the inevitable, my Chief,” Khalor pointed out. “Gelta would keep on charging his front, and Pekhal’s infantry would come out behind him through Khnom’s doors.”

  “Can you think of any alternatives, Sergeant?” Althalus asked.

  “There is a fairly gloomy one,” Khalor replied bleakly.

  “Oh? How gloomy?”

  “It’s called ‘the last stand,’ Althalus, and things don’t get much gloomier than that.” He looked around. “Where’s Salkan? He knows the country around here better than I do.”

  “What are we looking for, Sergeant?” Albron asked.

  “A steep hill, my Chief. Gebhel can fortify the top of the hill and hold the enemy off for quite some time—at least until Kreuter gets here. Khnom’s doors won’t be of any use, because Gebhel’s men are going to be looking out in all directions, so there won’t be a backside to attack them from.”

  “Couldn’t they just go around Gebhel and march on Keiwon?”

  “That wouldn’t be a good idea, my Chief. Pekhal and Gelta aren’t very bright, but I don’t think even they’re stupid enough to leave an Arum army behind them.”

  “How long do you think Gebhel could hold out in that kind of situation?” Althalus asked.

  Khalor shrugged. “A week, at least—possibly even as long as two—if he’s got enough food and water.”

  “That might be long enough,” Althalus mused. “It all depends on whether Emmy can fix Eliar’s eyes—and how long it’ll take her. Do you think Gebhel can hold out today?”

  Khalor nodded. “Since he’ll be expecting Pekhal, he’ll be able to take steps. He’ll still be in his trench when the sun goes down. Then, once it’s dark, we’ll pull him out and take him to some nice steep hill. The war’s not over yet, Althalus. Actually, it’s just barely started.”

  “Gebhel knows what he’s doing,” Sergeant Khalor told Althalus, Bheid, and Chief Albron as the first faint hints of dawn stained the eastern sky. “We’ll be at a bit of a disadvantage without Leitha, but we know enough about the enemy’s plans to get by—at least for today.”

  “And tomorrow?” Albron asked pointedly.

  “That’ll depend on just how steep a hill Althalus and I can find—and how far to the rear it is.”

  Gher and Salkan came up the slope from the trenches in the predawn darkness.

  “Gher says you wanted to see me, General Khalor,” the shepherd said.

  “Right,” Khalor replied. “You know the country around here fairly well, don’t you?”

  “I herd sheep in this part of Wekti, General, so I know every bush and rock by its first name.”

  “Good. I need a large, very steep hill, Salkan—something right on the verge of being a mountain peak. Is there anything at all like that in the immediate vicinity?”

  Salkan frowned. “Daiwer’s Tower’s a few miles south of here, and it sort of fits that description.”

  “Who’s Daiwer?” Bheid asked.

  “He was a crazy hermit who lived around here a few hundred years ago, your Reverence. I’m told that he believed that he was the only man in the world who truly loved God, and that everybody else was an agent of evil. When he first saw that tower, he was certain that God had made it especially for him. It sticks up out of the surrounding pasture land for about a thousand feet, and the walls of it are straight up and down.”

  “How did he get up there, then?” Khalor asked.

  “There’s a steep rock slide on the south side of the tower, General. It’s hard going, but I’ve been to the top myself. Anyway, Daiwer climbed up there and lived in a cave up at the top. I understand that he used to roll boulders down the slide anytime anybody tried to get up there. I guess he really didn’t want company.”

  “There almost has to be water up there, then,” Khalor mused thoughtfully.

  “Oh, yes, General Khalor. There’s a spring in the back of the cave. I don’t know how the water finds its way up there, but it’s clear and sweet and cold.”

  “Just a trickle?” Khalor pressed.

  “No, sir. It’s more like a fountain.”

  “What do you think, Khalor?” Althalus asked.

  “It sounds very close to what I’m looking for,” Khalor replied. “Why don’t we go have a look at it?”

  “I think we should. Gebhel’s men have rounded up a few stray Ansu horses. Why don’t you borrow three of them, and then Salkan can take us there so we can look it over.”

  The three of them reined in their horses as they crested a hill not long after dawn and saw a sheer-sided tower jutting up out of the prairie.

  “How did something like that crop up in the middle of all this grassland?” Sergeant Khalor demanded in absolute bafflement as he stared at the peak. “It looks almost like a mountain that went astray.”

  “I don’t think ‘how’ makes that much difference, Sergeant,” Althalus said. “Will it suit our purposes?”

  “If we can get to the top, it’ll be perfect,” Khalor declared. “If Gebhel’s got enough food and water, he can hold that place for years.”

  “Not while I’m the one who’s paying Chief Gweti so much a day for his army, he won’t. Let’s go take a look at this rock slide. Salkan’s part goat, I think, and just because he can scramble up the slide, there’s no real guarantee that anybody else can.”

  The three of them returned to the trenches about midday. “If God has teeth, that’s probably what one of them looks like, Gebhel,” Khalor told the bald and bearded Gweti man. “It juts up out of that grassland for a good thousand feet.”

  “Steep slope?” Gebhel asked.

  “I’d hardly call it a slope, Sergeant Gebhel,” Althalus said. “The main tower’s straight up and down. There’s rubble down at the bottom that sort of slants down to the prairie, and that slope’s about as steep as anything you’d care to climb. Once you get to the tower itself, nothing but a fly could go up.”

  “If I can’t get my men to the top, what good’s it going to be?” Gebhel demanded irritably.

  “Oh, there’s a way to get up there,” Salkan told him. “It looks like part of the peak broke away, so there’s a rock slide where that part used to be. It’s a lot steeper than the slopes at the bottom, and it isn’t very wide, but we managed to scramble up to the top. You can see for miles from up there.”

  “There has to be something wrong with it,” Gebhel said. “I’ve never yet found anything that was perfect.”

  “It hasn’t got a roof, Sergeant,” Althalus said, “so I suppose you might get rained on every so often. I can make sure you’ve got food and water, but I won’t be able to provide camp followers.”

  “See?” Gebhel said to Khalor. “I knew there was something wrong with the whole idea.”

  “What’s been happening here while we were gone?” Khalor asked in a more serious tone.

  “That sow’s been wasting her cavalry all morning,” Gebhel replied, shrugging.

  “No noise or anything from behind your trenches yet?”

  “Nothing. I think your spies were blowing smoke in your ears, Khalor. We haven’t seen a sign of anything at all moving around behind our trenches—unless you’re expecting a surprise attack by rabbits.”

  “Just keep your reserve forces handy and out of sight, Gebhel,” Khalor told him. “You will be attacked from the rear by infantry before the sun goes down.”

  Gebhel shrugged. “If you say so,” he said.
>
  “Have you started making plans for your withdrawal from the trenches yet?”

  “Who needs a plan to cut and run? As soon as it gets dark this evening, I’ll pull my men out of the trenches and go south. Do you want to do me a favor?”

  “All you have to do is ask, Gebhel.”

  “Lend me that young redhead of yours. I want to put a couple of companies of my men on top of God’s tooth out there. My people are going to be moving in the dark, and a few bonfires on top of that peak should show them where they’re supposed to go.”

  “That makes sense, I guess.”

  “Sergeant Gebhel!” one of the men in the trench called. “Here they come again!”

  “If you’ll excuse me, Khalor, I’ve got this little war on my hands right now,” Gebhel said sourly.

  “Of course,” Khalor agreed. “Have a nice day, hear?”

  “In your ear, Khalor.”

  “It’s Dweia’s idea,” Althalus lied to Khalor and Albron as the three of them lay concealed in the tall grass not far from the tent. Actually, he hadn’t heard so much as a peep from Dweia for the past few hours.

  “Sheep?” Albron said incredulously. “I don’t quite get the point, Althalus.”

  “They’ll keep Koman from finding out about the men Gebhel’s got hidden on the backside of this hill, Chief Albron,” Althalus explained. “There’s nothing in this world quite as brainless as a sheep, and they bleat all the time. When you get right down to it, a herd of sheep’s even better than adding up fractions when you’re trying to keep a mind leech like Koman away.”

  “I’m not going to argue with her about it,” Khalor said. “If Dweia says sheep, then sheep it is. Do you think we’ll get much warning when Pekhal comes running out through Khnom’s doors behind the trenches?”

  “Probably not very much.”

  “Gebhel’s made some preparations, Sergeant,” Chief Albron assured Khalor. “The backside of his trench line’s not quite as unprotected as it might appear.”