Riverwind the Plainsman

by Paul B. Thompson

  “Stay your hand or die,” Karn rasped. “I want Her Highness to prescribe your fate.” His dark eyes gleamed.

  Riverwind drew in his arm.

  The panorama of the great cavern spun around Catchflea’s feet. This giddy swirl, combined with the lingering taste of the Hestite food, made him sick to his stomach. He vomited all he had eaten, but felt better for it.

  Catchflea couldn’t see where he was falling to. He appeared to be moving laterally as well as vertically. Above him, the High Spires seemed very far away. The smoke thickened and closed in, and even that landmark vanished. He was lost in the smoky void.

  Then his feet struck solid ground. Catchflea’s knees folded from the shock. A cluster of figures surrounded him.

  “I’m so glad to be down!” he declared. “Thank—”

  Before he could finish, a heavy drape of copper mesh was flung over his head. Catchflea was lifted onto the shoulders of a dozen silent Hestites. He protested loudly, but the mesh muffled his cries. He tried to kick, but he was held by too many hands and the mesh weighed him down. Catchflea was spirited away without even knowing that Riverwind hadn’t followed him out of the Spires.

  Chapter 7

  Tears of Blood

  Karn marched Riverwind at sword point back to the High Spires’ bridge.

  “What do you intend to do with me?” asked Riverwind.

  “I must tell Her Highness what has happened. The elder giant won’t get far.”

  “Catchflea is more clever than he appears.” Riverwind hoped the old soothsayer was safe, wherever Di An had taken him.

  “My mistress will glean him out no matter where he goes,” Karn boasted. The limestone bridge emerged from the smoke. Riverwind did not understand how Karn and Di An were able to find their way in the murk. Perhaps elves had keener eyesight than humans.

  “Ho-la!” Karn shouted to the guards on the other side.

  “It is me, Karn!”

  After a second’s delay, a faint voice replied. “We’re not to converse with you, my captain!”

  Karn’s eyes scanned the shifting smoke ahead of them. “Nalx, is that you? Listen to me: go to Her Highness and tell her the giants tried to escape. One got away, but I caught the younger one. Tell her, Nalx. She will reward us both.”

  “A hard tale to believe, my captain!” said the guard. “Where could the giants escape to?”

  “How should I know? There’s magic afoot, fool, and if you don’t tell Her Highness, what do you think her reaction will be?”

  There was a longer delay. Finally, Nalx’s voice said, “I will do it, Ro Karn. What a feat, to capture a giant twice—”

  “Yes, yes. Go quickly, Nalx!”

  After several minutes, Karn stiffened. “An entire company of soldiers!” he exclaimed to Riverwind.

  The plainsman squinted into the gloom, but saw absolutely nothing but smoke and noxious vapors. However, he trusted the elf’s eyesight.

  Nalx called, “You are to cross with the prisoner, Ro Karn!”

  “We come!”

  The plainsman straddled the bridge as before and inched across. Karn sauntered behind him, his narrow feet comfortably centered on the slick stone path.

  A score of pikes was leveled at Riverwind as he gained the platform. Karn had been right about the number of soldiers. An officer raised his arm in salute. “Ro Karn, Her Highness bids you come to her at once.”

  With a jaunty, triumphant air, Karn slammed the sword Di An had brought to High Spires home into his scabbard. Another elf stepped forward and handed Karn his helmet.

  “I kept it for you, sir,” he said.

  The warrior seated the iron helmet on his head and sighed with satisfaction. “My thanks, Sard.” He looked up at Riverwind. “You see, giant, how quickly fortune changes.”

  Riverwind regarded him disdainfully. “Yes, and it may change again, and not to your liking.”

  Karn laughed. He ordered the soldiers into formation and took his place at their head. They marched in lockstep down the spiral tunnel to Li El’s throne room.

  The escort halted outside the golden curtains. The domed room was suffused with the spicy scent of incense, and the formerly bright lighting had been dimmed to twilight level. Karn and Riverwind entered through a flap in the curtains.

  Inside the gilded circle, the room had changed. The couch was gone, replaced by an elaborate carpet woven of silver and copper. Li El sat on the floor in the center of the circle of red and silver. Her golden hood was thrown back, revealing a cascade of rich, red-brown hair. She was the first denizen of Hest that Riverwind had seen with such beautiful dark hair.

  A shallow basin rested on the floor before her, warmed by the fitful flame of a tiny brazier. Her head was bent to the basin as she peered into its depths. As Riverwind watched, the queen of Hest dropped blue powder across the liquid in the basin. It hissed loudly, and coils of vapor poured over the sides of the bowl. The pale blue vapor was the source of the strange incense.

  Karn cleared his throat. “My queen, I bring you tidings of—”

  “I know,” Li El said softly, without looking up. “I know all.”

  Karn paused, taken aback, then continued, “The elder giant escaped before I could stop him. Someone helped him with a chain or a ladder.”

  “The girl helped him,” Li El said in a flat, emotionless voice. Her hand disappeared into her robe and came out with a lumpy piece of red crystal. This she carefully dropped into the basin. “The same digger girl you caught in the tunnel,” she said.

  “But—but how, Highness? The digger was taken away for questioning—”

  “By my brother.” Karn looked at Riverwind rather helplessly. “Do you not see, stupid Karn?” The soldier flinched, but Li El went on relentlessly, “My brother is the one who has been casting the spells, making passages to the surface, and helping those diggers who flee Vartoom!”

  Blood suffused Karn’s sharp features. “Traitor! I knew it!”

  “You did not,” she said, and her voice was barely audible. “Even I did not.”

  “Your Highness,” Karn said quickly, “give the word and Vvelz will die today!”

  “Vvelz has gone beyond the reach of your sword.” Li El gently blew the accumulated mist away from the surface of the liquid. A red glow emanated from the basin. The sorceress-queen was silent for a long time. Karn fidgeted, then cleared his throat.

  “Speak,” said Li El.

  “What shall I do with this giant?” he asked.

  Li El lifted her face to them. Both the Hestite warrior and the Que-Shu plainsman recoiled. The queen’s dark eyes had turned solidly red, and tears the color of blood trickled from their corners. Thin tracks of red inched down her smooth cheeks.

  “Long have I striven to rule Hest firmly, to make it rich and great. I deposed the last decadent son of Hest and made myself queen in order to save the diggers from the tyrant’s heavy hand. And what gratitude do I get but desertion, treachery, and sabotage?” The flow of blood-tears increased. Riverwind felt a coldness grip his heart. Li El’s voice was icy and calm. Somehow he knew that she did not weep from sadness, but from deep and violent rage.

  She stood and walked toward the transfixed elf and man. The tears trickled down onto her golden robe.

  “What do you say, giant called Riverwind? Shall I be merciful to those who would bring the kingdom to ruin? To my own flesh and blood who has betrayed me?” She turned to face Karn but continued to address Riverwind. “Or shall they bleed until their transgressions are washed away. Until all treachery is gone. What do you say, giant?”

  Riverwind couldn’t say anything. A tightness had coiled itself around his throat. Li El’s anger filled the room like a vile perfume, rooting him to the floor and rendering him powerless to utter a sound. Karn seemed to be similarly stifled. Over the queen’s shoulder Riverwind could see that the basin she’d been performing her spell in was boiling. Large bubbles burst in the liquid, spattering more blood-colored drops on the floor.

/>   “How dare they plot against me!” Li El said, her voice rising. “I, who make the fruit ripen and the light burn in the cavern. My people need never know hunger or darkness, and all I require is obedience and hard work. But even these small things they cannot give me. So I shall scourge them, the entire Blue Sky cult, root and branch.” She looked at Karn once more. The warrior was trembling slightly, but his face was resolute.

  “You are too dull a tool for this job,” Li El said to Karn. “Loyal and brave, but far too dull to catch that pack of jackals my brother serves.” She turned to Riverwind. The malevolent aura the queen exuded pierced his heart and soul. He felt a tremor start in his hands and, with great effort, he clenched them into fists. His training as a Que-Shu warrior helped him to keep his face stoic as he looked down at the queen’s blood-streaked face.

  “Ah, giant, you are a fighter indeed. With the proper arms and motivation, you could wipe out my enemies practically on your own.”

  Karn’s calm expression had changed to one of shock. His lips worked but no sound came out. Oblivious to the soldier’s distress, Riverwind fought his own inner battle and managed to voice a single word. “No,” he whispered.

  Li El smiled slightly. “No? Do not be hasty, my fine giant. I have not yet told you what my terms will be. You may reconsider.” His eyes told her plainly what his tongue could not say. “You still think not? I see I shall have to persuade you.”

  Riverwind wanted to run, or fight, do anything to break this dreadful numbing hold Li El had on him. Karn was in no condition to stop him, but the plainsman could scarcely get his legs to move. He slowly shuffled his feet around, and made a convulsive effort to take a step. Li El didn’t even hurry. She followed him with patronizing languor, like some horrible bloody wraith pursuing a guilt-ridden man.

  Riverwind stumbled and pitched forward. He rolled over and tried to get up. Li El loomed over him.

  “Why struggle so, my friend? In the end, all will be the same,” she said soothingly. Li El pressed her fingers to her cheeks, staining the tips red with tears. She bent slowly and reached for Riverwind’s face. Just as her blood-stained fingers lightly touched his cheeks, Riverwind screamed.

  “Goldmoon!”

  Karn’s face was a picture of his inner torment. His arms and legs twitched with his efforts to move. When his queen touched the giant barbarian, both vanished in a soundless burst of white light. The magical lethargy that had held him paralyzed ended just as suddenly. Karn leaped to the spot where they had been.

  “No!” he shouted, drawing his sword. “I was to be your chosen one. I, Karn! You can’t take that outlander instead of me!” Karn cut the air furiously with his blade, hurting nothing. “Me! It is me! By blood and test, I am the one!”

  He turned on the queen’s magic basin. The liquid within was now clear and as smooth as glass. In his fury, Karn stormed over and kicked the basin. Hardly had the iron toe of his sandal touched the brass rim of the dish when the basin dissolved into a wisp of white vapor.

  Karn cursed and screamed and stamped his feet in impotent rage.

  The silent Hestites carried Catchflea a long way. He couldn’t tell how far, but it was some time before they set him on his feet again. They’d gone a distance on level ground, then up a steep incline. It was ridiculous to the old man, being carried when he certainly could walk.

  He lost the fear he had felt when the elves first grabbed him. Catchflea was astute enough to realize that his best chance to stay whole and healthy was to not resist. After going to all the risk of breaking him out of the High Spires, they couldn’t harm him—could they? Di An wouldn’t lead him into a trap—would she?

  The elves lowered him to the ground, and the heavy mesh cover was whisked away. It was cool and dark wherever they’d brought him. Catchflea rubbed his eyes and sat up.

  He was in some sort of old building. Gracefully carved columns spiraled up into the darkness. Some were cracked, others fallen. The floor consisted of worn squares of white stone, thickly covered with dust. A stirring in the recesses behind Catchflea warned him that he wasn’t alone. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he saw that the room was full of Hestites, all looking at him.

  Catchflea stood up. Whispers flitted around the columns like fireflies on a summer night. He heard light footsteps. Di An appeared. That cheered him; here, at least, was a familiar face.

  “What’s going on?” he asked her. “What is this place?”

  “Not much of a giant,” a deep voice said, ringing hollowly.

  “Who’s that?” Catchflea quickly scanned the sea of faces.

  “The other one is much taller,” Di An said.

  Catchflea turned to her once more. “Riverwind. Where is he?”

  “He never jumped,” she replied faintly. She shifted her feet nervously, looking to the shadows behind her.

  “Then Li El has him,” said the bass voice.

  Catchflea started toward Di An. “You must help him! Karn will have his head!” he exclaimed. He reached out to the elf girl. “Can’t we go back for him?”

  “Ro Karn is the least of your friend’s worries,” boomed the voice. “No, we cannot save him.”

  “Who are you?”

  Di An took Catchflea’s hand and led him into the shadows. Hundreds of small elven feet scuffed in the darkness, following them. The old plainsman nervously watched over his shoulders as the nearly invisible crowd crept along behind him.

  Ahead was an open space between close-set ranks of columns. There, over twenty blue globes had been set. Their strange light threw weird shadows on the thing Di An was taking him to see.

  It was a thick section of stone blocks, standing free of walls or columns. The surface facing Catchflea was carved in deep relief with the face of an elf. The eyes were nearly squinted shut, the mouth an enormous open hole, black and empty. The entire relief was nearly as tall as Catchflea. In the eerie light, the old man couldn’t tell if the expression on the stone face was joyous, outraged, or agonized.

  “You are not much of a giant,” boomed the stone face.

  “That is a label your people gave us. Among my people, I am counted a small man, yes,” Catchflea said. He wasn’t terribly impressed with this idol, whatever it was. He well knew some mortal Hestite was behind it.

  “Then the human may have value,” said another voice, higher and more cultured. The old man recognized this second voice as Vvelz’s.

  Catchflea decided to be bold. He said, “I’m pleased you think so, brother of Li El.” The steady whispering of the Hestites behind him ceased. The stone mouth was silent.

  A flame erupted near a pair of columns. It illuminated the figure of Vvelz, who approached Catchflea and Di An. In the palm of his right hand a small flame danced. He carried no torch; the fire sprang directly from his hand.

  “Mors is right,” Vvelz said. “You cannot help Riverwind. Better to stay with us and join our cause.”

  “But what is your cause?”

  “We are the Blue Sky People,” said the deep voice, which Vvelz had called Mors. “It is our sacred purpose to leave these dark caverns and dwell again under sun and sky, to live as free people, subject to no tyrants. We will cast off our chains and rise into the light, and no one will force us back into the ground.”

  “Very admirable, yes?” Catchflea said dryly. “But who are you?”

  “Yes, come out,” Vvelz said. He held his burning palm up high and clapped his other hand into the flame. Small spurts of fire flew from his fingers to all parts of the room, where they ignited stands of torches. These strange devices resembled young trees, skillfully wrought in iron. At the tips of their metal branches, a small blue flame appeared. As more and more were lit, their soft hissing filled the air.

  The room was vast, and a large crowd of diggers lined the walls. Far off on Catchflea’s left was an arched doorway and a set of broken steps leading out and down.

  Catchflea heard a tapping, like metal on stone. A slim golden rod appeared from behind
the stone face. It groped around, tapping against the wall behind the face and on the floor. An elf appeared, holding the end of the rod. Vvelz gave Catchflea a nod. The old man stepped forward.

  Up close, he saw the Blue Sky leader was typically short in stature, but broad of shoulder and well-muscled. The most arresting thing about this Hestite were his eyes. Both were sealed behind layers of white scar tissue. Now Catchflea understood the tapping—a questing rod: the Blue Sky leader was blind.

  “You stare at my eyes,” the elf said harshly. “They are a gift from Her Highness. When I was expelled from Vartoom, she had my eyes put out as a warning to other would-be heretics.”

  “Who are you?” Catchflea asked quietly.

  “My name is Mors, once Ro Mors, captain of the Host. You are the one An Di calls Catchflea?”

  “An Di?” asked Catchflea, confused.

  “I forget,” said Mors. “Being a barbarian, you don’t know the nuances of our tongue.” He held out an arm, and Di An hurried to him. She nestled against his side. “Di An, An Di; it is a token of affection to call her so.”

  Catchflea smiled at the girl. “Thank you for helping us,” he said.

  She looked downcast. “Riverwind did not escape.”

  Catchflea touched a gnarled, dirty hand to her cheek. “He doesn’t submit easily. We will see him again.”

  The old plainsman saw that more and more Hestites had emerged and filled the empty floor space. He was amazed; there had to be at least six or seven hundred elves huddled in the ruins. He asked Vvelz who they were.

  “All the diggers who have run away,” the sorcerer explained. “They threw down their picks and plows and joined the Blue Sky People. They come to us because they are tired and hungry, and because they can’t bear Li El’s tyrannical yoke any longer. Someday soon Mors will lead them out of the caverns into the light.”

  “So many!” Catchflea marveled. “Why don’t you just depart? Surely Li El can’t stop such a crowd.”

  Di An led Mors to where the old man and the sorcerer were talking. “She can,” Mors said. His voice was deep and rough. “Running from her is not the answer. We must take the fight to Vartoom itself, seize the tyrant and lead all the people of Hest to the sky at once!”