“We weren’t?” Gher objected. “I thought it was a real good idea.”
“It was, Gher,” Dweia told him. “You just didn’t take it quite far enough, that’s all.”
“What did I miss?”
“You were concentrating too much attention on that ridiculous tunic.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Althalus protested.
“If you really want another tunic with ears, dear heart, I’ll make you one. How would donkey ears suit you?”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Not if you stop interrupting me, I won’t,” she said sweetly. “Now, then,” she continued, “as soon as someone tells Gher a story, he immediately starts thinking of ways to improve it. This time he raised a very interesting possibility. If we were to create a dream vision at some place and time back there when Althalus was just a common thief, it’s entirely possible that he’d be able to cozen poor Ghend into being his accomplice during the famous robbery of Gosti Big Belly. The main goal of Gher’s original scheme was to arrange things so that Althalus could keep that silly tunic, but that’s not really much of a goal, is it? It’s almost like building an entire castle just so that you’ll have a hook to hang your hat on in one of the rooms. Gher’s scheme’s just too good to waste on something that small, don’t you think?”
“I thought it was kind of fun,” Gher said defensively.
“I think I know of a way to make it funner,” she said with a fond little smile. “I liked the part where Althalus tricks Ghend into being his accomplice, and I loved the part where Althalus betrays Ghend to Gosti so that Ghend has to run for his life. But after that, it doesn’t go anyplace. A great scheme like yours should have a greater goal than some silly shirt, shouldn’t it?”
“Althalus would get all the gold in my plan,” Gher said.
“But it’s his gold in the first place isn’t it?”
“Well . . . yes, I suppose so, but the idea was to let Ghend hold it for a while and then trick him out of it.”
“Why not use the scheme to steal something from Ghend that’s much more important than gold?”
“What is there that’s more important than gold, Emmy?” Gher demanded in a baffled tone of voice.
“We’ll get to that in just a moment, Gher. I’ve noticed that you always start these schemes of yours by saying, ‘What would happen if ...’ I came up with a different ‘if’ than you did, though. What if Althalus used your scheme not to keep his tunic or to swindle Ghend out of his share of the gold that belonged to Althalus in the first place, but to steal Ghend’s Book instead?”
“Dear God!” Bheid exclaimed.
“I’m a little busy right now, Exarch Bheid,” Dweia told him. “Was it something important?”
“Things would sort of fly apart for Ghend if Althalus stole his Book and threw it into a fire, wouldn’t they?” Eliar mused.
“That’s not what I had in mind, Eliar,” Dweia replied. “Ghend’s Book wouldn’t burn, for one thing. The entire procedure’s a little more complex. Ghend’s scheme probably involved taking the Book of Deiwos to Nahgharash. It wouldn’t have worked, of course. He’d have had the two Books, but he wouldn’t have had the third one.”
“There are only two Books, Dweia,” Bheid protested.
“You’re wrong, Brother Bheid,” she told him. “There are three—the Book of Deiwos, the Book of Daeva, and my Book.”
“Your Book? I’d never even heard that you have a Book.” Bheid’s eyes had gone very wide. “Where is it?”
“It’s right here,” she said calmly. “Eliar has it tucked under his belt at the moment.”
“That’s a Knife, not a Book,” Bheid objected.
She sighed. “What exactly is a Book, Bheid?” she asked.
“It’s a document—pages with writing on them.”
“The Knife has writing on its blade, doesn’t it?”
“But it’s only one word!”
“Only one that you can read. Althalus read a different word, Eliar read another, and Andine and Leitha each read something else. The Books of my brothers speak in broad generalities. My Book’s very specific. It told each of you one word, and you’ll each spend your entire lifetime reaching out to understand that word. The Book of Deiwos stays here, where it’s absolutely safe. My Book had to go out into the world, so I disguised it in order to protect it. Why do you think Pekhal and the others couldn’t bear to look at it? They’ve all seen knives before, and this one isn’t all that much different from thousands of others. It’s not the Knife they see when Eliar holds it in front of them, it’s my Book. That’s what terrifies them so much. They can’t look at my Book, because it judges them.”
Eliar had taken the Knife from his belt and was carefully examining it. “It still only looks like a Knife to me, Emmy,” he said.
“It’s supposed to.”
“What color is it?” Gher asked, “When it goes back to being a Book, I mean. The one Ghend carries around is black, and that one on the table’s white. What color is yours?”
“Gold, naturally. It is the most valuable one of the three, after all.”
“Could we see it? In its real shape, I mean?” Bheid’s voice had a kind of hunger in it.
“Not yet, Bheid. It’s not time yet. Several things have to happen before I let it revert to its real form. That’s what we’re here to talk about. If we follow Gher’s plan and use a dream vision to compel Ghend to join Althalus in the robbery of Gosti, Ghend would have to go to Gosti’s fort. And where Ghend goes, the Book of Daeva goes.”
“Oh, now I see where you’re going with this, Emmy,” Gher said. “While Althalus and Ghend are both at Gosti’s fort, Althalus slips into the place where Ghend sleeps and steals his Book.”
Dweia shook her head. “No, Althalus doesn’t steal the black Book until he meets Ghend in Nabjor’s camp in Hule.”
“Then why do we go through all that folderol in Gosti’s fort?” Bheid demanded. “Why not just leave the past alone for the most part and just concentrate on stealing the black Book when Ghend goes to Hule?”
“Because if Ghend wakes up and finds that his Book is gone, he’ll be on the trail of Althalus before he takes another breath. We have to come up with a way to delay him, and I think an imitation Book might turn the trick. I can make that imitation, but I have to see—and touch—the real one first.”
“If you’ve already got the Book here, why bother to put it back in Ghend’s saddlebag at all?” Althalus asked her. “Just give me the imitation. I’ll put it in his bag, and he’ll never know the difference.”
“No, love,” she disagreed. “Sooner or later, Ghend’s going to open that Book and read it. The moment he does that, he’ll know immediately that it isn’t the real one. I don’t want him to do that until after he hires you to steal the white Book. A few picky little changes in the past won’t really alter the present very much, but if Ghend calls Daeva out of Nahgharash to recover the black Book, the present won’t even be recognizable anymore. That’s why Althalus must have a duplicate to take the place of the Book he steals, and I’m the only one who can produce a believable duplicate. Besides, I’m sure it’ll be more fun if we do it this way.”
“Fun?” Bheid objected. “What’s fun got to do with this?”
“Althalus always does things better when he’s enjoying himself, Bheid,” Dweia said with a sly little smile. “And when you get right down to it, most other people do as well.” Then she looked archly at Althalus. “If I remember correctly, you and I made a little compact when we first started out. I was supposed to teach you how to use the Book, and you were supposed to teach me how to lie, cheat, and steal. It seems that there might even have been some talk of a wager.”
“Now that you mention it, I do sort of remember a conversation along those lines, yes,” he replied.
“Well, pet, what do you think? Is my little scheme devious enough to suit you?”
“It’s so devious that it confuses even me,” he admitted.
“Then I done good?” she demanded in an obvious imitation of Gher’s favorite question.
He laughed. “You done real good, Em. When you get right down to it, I think you done perfect.”
“Naturally,” she said with a little toss of her head. “I’m always perfect. Didn’t you know that?”
“I don’t quite get the point of this,” Andine said with a baffled sort of look. “What do we do with Ghend’s Book after Althalus steals it? If it won’t burn, how are we going to destroy it?”
Dweia’s expression grew very serious. “We bring it here,” she replied. “That’s what all of this has been about. When the three Books are brought together in the same place and time, something very important’s going to happen.”
“Oh?” Bheid asked. “What’s that?”
“I’m not entirely certain; it’s never happened before. My brothers and I’ve had our little squabbles in the past, but the Books have never been involved. The Books are elemental forces, and there’s no way to know what’s going to happen when they come together. If there were only two, this would be fairly predictable, but since there are three . . .” She shrugged and spread her hands. “Who knows?”
“Wouldn’t it be better not to risk it, then?” Bheid asked, sounding worried.
“That option’s not open anymore, Bheid,” she said. “I’m not sure exactly why Daeva decided to involve the Books this time, but he did, and our choices went out the window the moment he told Ghend to hire Althalus to steal the Book of Deiwos. Now we have to play it out and see what happens.”
C H A P T E R F O R T Y - T W O
Now it came to pass that upon a certain day in early autumn did Althalus the thief and his youthful companion ride boldly up into the tree-clad mountains of Arum with the gentle song of the Knife singing about them all the way. And the heart of Althalus was content, for once more garbed was he in a garment of splendor wrought of luxurious fur.
And came they of a golden morning unto a wayside inn deep in the mountains, and there did they pause to refresh themselves from the rigors of their journey, and entered they a low-beamed room alight with the golden sun of morning and besat themselves at a finely wrought table awash with light and called out unto the innkeeper for bright, foamy mead even as the song of the Knife caressed their ears.
And ever-watchful Althalus did cast his eyes about, and lo, there at a table across the room did he espy a familiar face. Puzzled was Althalus the thief, for try though he might he could not recall that face nor summon up any memory of his meeting with the man. Lank and black and greasy was the familiar stranger’s hair, and deep-sunk and burning were his eyes. And the stranger’s companion was a smaller man with a sly face and manner ingratiating.
And behold, others there were in that place, and spake they in good-humored wise concerning a certain Clan Chief of Arum known throughout the land most improbably as “Gosti Big Belly.”
“Truly have I heard of him ere this day,” spake Althalus, “but baffled am I that a Chief of even small significance should choose to allow his clan to address him so, for surely such a name carries with it scant respect.”
“ ’Tis but one of Gosti’s peculiarities, wayfarer,” spake one of they who tarried there upon that golden morning. “Correct art thou that such nomenclature would offend each and every Clan Chief in all of Arum, save this one. But Gosti doth view his paunch with great pride, and laughingly doth he boast that he hath not espied his feet in years.” Amused appeared the speaker, and twinkled his eyes with delighted good humor.
“Men say that he is wealthy beyond belief,” ventured Althalus the thief, ever alert for the main chance.
“Wealthy doth not e’en begin to describe the richness of Gosti,” spake yet another of they who lingered there.
“Hath it been some fortunate discovery of a heretofore unknown pocket of gold which hath enriched him?” besought Althalus in hopeful query.
Then laughed yet another of they who lingered there, e’en as the song of the Knife transmuted itself into a minor key. “Nay, traveler,” spake he. “ ’Twas not the clan of Gosti upon which good fortune smiled, though me-thinks some slight corner of her smile did flicker across them. Some few years back did a wayfarer in the mountains above the lands of the clan of Gosti stumble across an outcropping of finest gold. Slender were the wits of the wayfarer, and spake he long and loud of his good fortune to sundry others in places where good rich mead is sold, and word of his discovery did soon spread far and wide o’er all the lands of Arum. And many were they who went to seek their fortunes above the lands of Gosti.”
And puzzled was the face of Althalus the thief.
“ ’Tis but a simple thing, wayfarer,” bespake yet another in the wayside tavern. “Some few years back was ponderous Gosti’s father slain in a clan war, and thus was Gosti elevated. Some there were in that clan who gravely doubted Gosti’s ability, but Gosti’s paternal cousin Galbak—a man of towering stature and the temperament of an angry bear—did stand behind him, and others in the clan wisely chose to remain silent concerning Gosti’s slender qualifications. Common is the opinion that men of great girth have small brains, but such is not true of Chief Gosti. His ancestral home doth stand on the bank of a raging river so swift that some believe it can snatch away a man’s shadow, and no man is so brave—or so foolish—that he would venture to attempt a crossing, e’en though it be five days hard travel in either direction to safer fords. Therefore did shrewd Gosti and titanic Galbak devise a scheme whereby they did erect a bridge across that savage river, and then did they cruelly extort money from they who sought to cross. Their benefit at first was meager, for they extorted merely copper, but following the discovery of gold in the nearby mountains, commenced Gosti’s unprincipled clan to demand gold rather than copper. Now, the mountains of Arum are beautiful to behold, but a man who hath just passed a tedious year tunneling inch by inch into obdurate stone hath scant interest in scenery. His thirst for good, rich mead is strong, and he hungers greatly for the companionship of lithesome ladies who care not a farthing if a man be dirty and unkempt so long as his purse be filled with gold. As thou canst well imagine, such men will pay gladly whatever is asked of them to cross shrewd Gosti’s bridge to the pleasures that lie beyond, and thus it is that Gosti’s strong room doth bulge with good yellow gold that others most cheerfully wrest from the mountains for his benefit.”
“Stretch forth thine eyes and look upon the face of Ghend,” bespake youthful Gher in sibilant whisper. “Methinks his thought doth follow closely upon thine, O my teacher.”
And puzzled was Althalus the thief, for his companion Gher bespake himself in a manner most unusual, for truly, youthful Gher was unlettered and unpolished. But clever Althalus pondered not this peculiarity but bent his eyes instead upon the face of Ghend, and recognized he there such signs of open avarice as were common among those who followed the profession so dear to the heart of Althalus himself.
“Mayhap it would be wise of us to seek out the familiar stranger Ghend,” shrewdly whispered youthful Gher. “For should it come to pass that his thought is e’en as thine—as methinks it surely is—shall ye both not stumble o’er each other in pursuit of this common goal?”
And it seemèd Althalus that youthful Gher spake wisely, and resolv‘d he then and there to pursue the child’s cunning advice.
“It didn’t happen that way,” Althalus muttered, coming half awake in his bed.
“Hush,” Dweia’s voice commanded. “Go back to sleep, or we’ll never get this finished.”
“Yes, dear,” he replied with a long sigh, and then he plunged back into his dream.
Now it came to pass that e’en as golden morning turned to golden noon that lank-haired Ghend and his small, sly companion Khnom did quaff the dregs of their mead and arise to go their way.
Then arose also cunning Althalus and youthful Gher, and went they also from that place.
And as it chanced to happen, their horses were tethered near unto each other, and
clever Althalus spake most casually unto fire-eyed Ghend, saying, “Methinks thy thought is e’en as mine, forasmuch as the rumor of gold, it seemeth me, doth strike sparks from thy mind e’en as it doth from mine.”
“Truly,” replied harsh-voiced Ghend, “for gold doth shine prettily in mine eyes and ring winsomely in mine ears.”
“It is e’en so with me,” confessed wily Althalus, “but prudence doth suggest that wisely might we confer regarding this matter, for should we separately follow a self-same course, it were probable that we should encounter each other at every turn, and thus may our design be confounded.”
“Thy thought hath merit,” spake Ghend. “Let us go apart from this place and speak further concerning this matter. It seemeth me that thou dost propose an alliance in this venture, and I do confess me, thy proposal doth titillate mine imagination.”
“Well?” Dweia said the next morning at the breakfast table. “Does that give you enough to work with?”
“What were you doing to my mouth, Emmy?” Gher demanded in a baffled tone. “I don’t even know what some of those words mean.”
“It was absolutely beautiful, Gher,” Andine declared. “You spoke almost like a poet.”
“It wasn’t me who was talking like that, Andine,” Gher said. “I think Emmy stuck one of her paws in my mouth and sprained my tongue.”
“It was what’s called ‘High Style,’ Gher,” Bheid explained. “I doubt if anybody’s ever actually spoken that way.”
“It’s been quite some time since it was common,” Dweia said. “Let’s set the language aside for the moment, though, and stick to the event itself. Will you be able to build on what I gave you, Althalus, or are you going to need more?”
“I think there was enough for me to work with, Em. Ghend was there, and he was interested. That’s all I’ll really need.”
“As long as we’re going to go through with this, it doesn’t really matter that I was spitting ‘thees’ on the table and ‘thous’ on the floor, does it?” Gher said.
The Redemption of Althalus Page 73
