Ashling

by Isobelle Carmody

  Jakoby took her place at Bram's side and looked expectantly at the sky. She stood that way until the sun rose in the crack where the sky was visible, casting pink and orange rays forth to stain the few straggles of cloud. I realized they had been literally waiting for sunrise to begin the Battlegames.

  "Are you prepared?" Jakoby asked, and I jumped at the loudness of her voice in the still dawn.

  "I am," Malik intoned.

  "We are," Rushton said.

  Jakoby looked to Bram, who inclined his head, then clapped her hands. The little hooded overguardian rose and offered the dice. Bram leaned forward with a grunt to take them up, and mumbled a few inaudible words, before flinging them high.

  Every face turned up to watch the two gleaming cubes whirl in the air, and then down to see what number of marks they offered to the sky.

  "Six," Bram said. "The Pit, then."

  Wordless, the overguardian gathered the dice and passed them back to Bram. He threw them again and this time they fell showing four marks between them.

  "Each leader will choose four from among their number to contend in the first Battlegame," Jakoby announced in a ringing voice.

  "Choose," Bram said.

  There was a momentary hiatus, then Rushton took a half step forward. "It is permitted for me to speak?"

  The old Sadorian lifted straggling white brows at him. "I told you last night this is not a battle that can be won with words."

  "I only wanted to ask how you expect us to choose well without knowing more about this Pit."

  "I will answer your question with another. How do warriors face lack of knowledge in a battle?"

  Rushton bowed and returned to face us, beckoning us to gather close.

  "You must choose for diversity," Miryum advised him.

  "Maybe we can take some sort of clue from the name," Dameon suggested.

  "The Pit," Angina murmured.

  "I suppose it will be in the ground. Another of these rifts. Therefore climbing may be needed, or lifting." Rushton swept his eyes over us. "Hannay is strongest physically."

  "Powyrs told me th' Sadorians sometimes use pits to catch fangcats," Fian said. "There may be beasts, therefore."

  Rushton nodded. "Freya," he said at last. He did not look at me and, hurt, I did not suggest myself.

  "Maybe th' pit is worked by some mechanics," Fian continued.

  Rushton frowned for a long moment. "Yes. You then, Fian. And Miryum, because she is a powerful coercer as well as strong physically."

  Neither he nor Miryum looked at me, although they both knew I also possessed coercive abilities. Neither of them knew how strong I was, because I had always tried to downplay my powers. I had no intention of using them here unless I must.

  Sweat beaded Rushton's lip as the four Misfits were led away with Malik's rebels. I guessed it had been hard for him not to name himself. I felt a surge of admiration for the strength of his will. Malik had not named himself either, but it seemed to cost him nothing.

  "They are permitted to choose a single implement each from the armament," Jakoby explained. She pointed as he spoke and we watched as the eight contestants vanished into a small gray tent billowing in the freshening dawn breeze that swirled through the gap in the earth and stirred the heavy air.

  "How can they choose without knowing what they need?" Angina asked Rushton indignantly. "This is madness."

  "Perhaps not," Miky disagreed with her twin. "After all, Malik is in the same position, as you said."

  It was growing steadily hotter and I shuddered to think of what the surface temperature must be. Looking up, I saw that the roof of the cavern was moss covered, and wondered how often there were rock falls.

  The eight returned. The rebels had chosen between them a double-edged sword, a huge axe, a long knife with a frill of jagged spikes about its tip, and a net. The Misfits had taken a coil of rope, a wide, flat shield, a tapered stave of wood and a knife.

  Bram clapped his hands again and we were led toward another pit—almost a miniature copy of the rift we were standing in and, like the larger chasm, invisible until you were almost upon it.

  "These cracks in the earth must have been left by the Great White," Daffyd murmured. I glanced at him and hoped this one was not poisonous as were many such rifts left by the Great White. I remembered the Silent Vale in the Weirwoods where orphans had been sent to collect the residue of poisonous whitestick.

  When we were standing on the edge, I saw that a cage had been set into the rift, neatly dividing it. Inside the cage were two bears. The larger was lumbering slowly back and forward while the smaller sat in the comer of the cage, its paws clasped around the bars.

  "Let the first Battlegame commence," Jakoby's voice rang out.

  The servitors immediately lowered the Misfits into one end of the pit by rope, and the rebels into the other.

  "I do not like me look of this." Miky murmured uneasily.

  "Shh," Angina hissed. "Watch."

  The servitors shifted to other ropes and the cage was hoisted up, removing all dividers. The bears seemed more bewildered man angry at this turn of events. They appeared not to have noticed the people at either end of the chasm.

  For a long moment no one moved, men the smaller bear noticed me Misfits. It stood up and lumbered toward them, growling slightly.

  Without hesitation Freya stepped forward in front of me others, her face serene.

  "She is empathizing it," Miky murmured, her face absorbed as she monitored Freya's telempathic emotions. Without warning, two of the servitors at the sides of the pit lifted long, thin pipes to their lips and blew.

  Both bears started violently as the darts found their mark. The larger gave a tremendous roar of fury and reared up onto its hind legs, clutching at its back.

  Both Misfits and rebels in the pit froze.

  I could tell from the dawning despair on Freya's face, that she had lost touch with the bear. That she could not regain a hold suggested that the darts had been drugged.

  The larger bear turned to stare at Freya, its eyes red with fury. With a lowing growl it began to advance on her. The smaller bear seemed confused, staring from its companion to the girl and back.

  Hannay and Fian stepped forward to stand either side of her, lifting stick and shield to fend off the beast. Freya did not move. Her eyes were fixed on the smaller bear.

  "She is sending calmness and compassion," Dameon murmured.

  The smaller bear stared back at her, plucking fretfully at the dart lodged in its fur, and even the larger beast seemed to hesitate.

  It shook its head slightly.

  "She's getting to them," Miky whispered.

  On the other side of the pit, the rebel with the sword ran forward without warning and drove the blade deeply into the smaller bear's side.

  I watched in impotent horror as the bear fell without a cry, and lay utterly still.

  Freya shrieked horribly and fell into a faint, for her mind had been linked empathically to the bear's. If Freya had been a farseeker or a coercer, she would be dead. I reached out my mind, seeking the bear's life force, but there was nothing. Subvocal thoughts swirled out from the larger beast, revealing that the smaller bear had been its cub.

  I felt Kella trembling violently at my elbow.

  The female bear approached her cub's body and prodded at it. Then she put back her head and howled with such anguish that it rent my heart in two. While she was thus distracted, the four rebels began to come forward in a solid phalanx.

  I poised my mind to drive them back, then realized I must not interfere.

  I looked to the Misfits in the pit. Hannay had dragged the unconscious Freya to one side and Miryum had slipped past the grief-stricken bear, raising Fian's shield and the knife to the rebels.

  She was trying to keep the rebels away from the bear!

  The creature looked up from its cub's corpse, focusing on the coercer's back. It rose slowly, eyes blood-red, and growled with chilling hatred.

  Fian
ran around to its side, waving the shield to draw the bear's attention from Miryum. I wondered in horror what he was trying to do, then remembered that he possessed a weak secondary ability to beastspeak. Now that he had the bear's attention, he was trying to reach its mind.

  The creature was clearly baffled and again hesitated.

  All at once, it seemed to sweep the confusion from its mind. It snarled and shambled toward Fian, raising massive paws to strike. Even from a distance I could see the wicked sharpness of its talons.

  Its movement opened a gap and one of the rebels crept toward Hannay, who was bending over Freya, trying to revive her.

  I willed him to turn around.

  There was a cry and I turned to see the bear swipe at Fian. He leapt out of her way and Miryum suddenly jumped to one side, leaving the rebels face to face with the enraged creature.

  It growled again, and the rebels hastily backed away. Miryum and Fian stood perfectly still. The teknoguilder's face was set and grim. He was still trying to reach the bear.

  I looked back to Hannay and saw the rebel behind him lift a knife. My mind flew back to a dark cavern and the Zebkrahn machine, and Madam Vega with her knife poised above Rushton's throat.

  I felt the inimical force in the depths of my mind coalesce, and I knew that I could not sit back and watch Hannay die, to win a contest.

  At that moment Freya opened her eyes. Something in her expression must have warned the big coercer because Hannay reacted instantly, spinning and using the force of the turn to drive his elbow savagely into the rebel's groin.

  "Oh no!" Kella whispered beside me, and my eyes flew to where the rebel with the spiked spear and the other with the sword had driven the bear back toward Miryum. A third joined them, grinning triumphantly.

  But his smile faltered and, a moment later, he flung down his weapon and began to execute a frenzied dance, slapping bare arms and legs as if they were on fire. His two companions gaped at him incredulously. Then a second rebel abandoned his sword and seemed to be trying to throttle himself. The she-bear appeared baffled and had ceased her growls.

  "Miryum is coercing them," Miky murmured.

  The remaining rebel, realizing that whatever ailed his companions arose from the stolid coercer, slammed his fist into her temple. She fell to the ground, leaving Fian to face the three rebels.

  Again, they began to harry the bear back toward him.

  Abruptly, the rebel with the axe stopped and began to claw at his eyes.

  Hannay was coercing now, but he had nowhere near Miryum's strength. The rebel with the knife ran at him and he was forced to release the other man's mind to defend himself.

  "Lud, if only they had nowt struck Miryum down. A little more time and she could have held 'em all in thrall!" Daffyd muttered.

  All at once the bear seemed to go mad. It howled and clutched at its head, raking the air with its razor claws.

  "The drug must have progressive effects," Kella murmured.

  The servitors at the pit worked another set of ropes and a hidden passage appeared in the side of the rift wall. The three rebels ran for it, and the bear snarled, charging after them, but the gap was too narrow.

  Thwarted, it turned.

  Freya, whey-pale, was now trying to revive Miryum. Hannay and Fian positioned themselves in front of them, shield and stave raised.

  The fourth rebel, now recovered, climbed stiffly to his feet. Seeing no one was watching him, he caught up his knife and rushed at Hannay, his face a mask of hatred. The motion caught the eyes of the crazed bear and it turned and charged.

  Freya staggered out to set herself between Hannay and Fian and the petrified rebel. The beast stopped and its wild eyes focused their madness on her.

  "No!" I whispered.

  Step by step Freya approached the bear, drawing gradually within reach of the lethal claws and killing embrace. The bear made a crooning sound.

  "She has it," Miky whispered.

  Indeed the bear seemed mesmerized. Then it groaned, clutched at its back and keeled over.

  "No!" Freya screamed, flinging herself beside the creature. It did not move, and she looked up out of the pit with a face that streamed with tears. "You bastards! It is dead."

  "Poisoned," Kella breathed.

  "The first game is ended," Jakoby announced.

  XLI

  "Interesting," Bram said.

  We had returned to the side of the isis pool. In the light flooding through the crack, the water was as blue as a summerdays sky. Miryum had been laid on the grass beside Bram's dais and Kella was tending her. Jakoby had warned us that if the coercer failed to resume her position before the third game commenced, she would be disqualified, reducing our number to nine. That would not happen because, if necessary, Kella could heal her quickly. But this would drain her energy, so we had decided to wait to the last minute and hope the coercer would revive naturally.

  Jakoby had not mentioned Freya's cry, and the blond girl stood beside me, pale but defiant. Malik's mocking smile said all too clearly that we had fared badly in the first Battlegame. But the day was young, I thought, gritting my teeth.

  "Interesting to note what each group saw as the object of the Battlegame," Bram said. "The rebels sought to slay the bears and, if possible, to have the bears slay their opponents. Failing that, to kill the beasts and their opponents and get away alive. Would you concur?"

  Jakoby nodded.

  "In attempting to attain these objectives, the rebels were swift, aggressive and sure. They worked well together when it was useful, never hesitating to cut their losses at need."

  Jakoby nodded again.

  "The Misfits' behavior, on the other hand, appeared primarily defensive to my eye. They sought to protect both themselves and the bears. Since the female was trying to kill them, this was a confused and somewhat sentimental strategy to adopt. The Misfits' mental powers are clearly considerable, but they didn't use them in any decisive way in this instance. If they can control the bears, why not have them attack the rebels, or have the rebels turn on one another?"

  Bram closed his eyes and seemed to sink into a small trance after this speech. After a moment, he roused himself and announced that the second game would begin.

  The dice were thrown again, and this time their number indicated a Battlegame Jakoby called The Wall. A second casting gave two players to each team.

  Rushton chose Angina, because he was agile and we thought the wall might have to be scaled, and Hannay again, because he was strong and a coercer, in case the wall had to be shifted or broken down.

  We had not lost heart despite the first battle, for we were confident that we would perform better now that we had some idea of what the games might entail. The most important thing we had learned was that we must define our objectives when they were not specifically named.

  When Angina and Hannay were taken off with the two rebels, Rushton frowned after them. "I hope we do better than in the first game."

  Miky gave him a swift, startled look. "You can't mean you think they should have killed that bear."

  "Of course not," he said. "I do not see what else they could have done. However," he looked at me, "do you think Malik instructed his men to kill us if they got the chance? Or were their attacks in the pit instinctive?"

  I let him see the answer in my eyes and his frown deepened.

  Angina and Hannay came back with the chosen rebels. Both were now clad in loin cloths and boots, and they seemed to be arguing furiously as were the rebel pair. None of the four contestants bore any weapons. They were ushered past Bram's dais and over to the bottom of the rift wall, where Sadorian servitors bound Angina and one of the rebels wrist and ankle.

  "What on earth can they be expected to do tied up like that?" Miky said worriedly.

  The servitors now turned their attention to Hannay and the second rebel, buckling them into stout leather jerkins. Their bare limbs were swathed in what appeared to be bandages, and long heavy gauntlets were pulled over their hands, a
nd boots reaching to the knee strapped on.

  "The climber must scale the rift wall to the summit," Jakoby said.

  Miky frowned. "But how can Angina climb with his arms like that?"

  "A strong cord will attach the climber to the burden," Jakoby went on.

  We listened aghast as she explained that one in each doublet was to drag the other with them as a helpless bundle. The arms, legs and hands of the climbers were bound in cloth to protect them from the cliffs which were impregnated with streaks of holocaust poison. The burden had no such protection and must rely entirely on the skill of the climber,

  "But... coercers can't bear heights," Miky reminded us, ashen cheeked.

  "They had to let Hannay climb. Angina could never lift him," Rushton snapped.

  Miky looked sick.

  "At least it's not Miryum. Hannay won't be as badly affected as she would," Kella said stoutly. She did not say what she must have been thinking—what we were all thinking—that Miky's twin's life was in the hands of a man who could not bear heights.

  The bout would be over, Jakoby announced, when both pairs reached the desert above.

  "Climb," Bram shouted.

  We watched with bated breath as the game began.

  To begin with, the rebels were at an obvious disadvantage, because they were both of equal height and weight. This gave the climber an arduous task. But Hannay's fear of heights made him climb with agonizing slowness. Soon, the rebels were some distance above.

  Then all at once Hannay began to climb swiftly, his hands and feet sure. Gradually he closed the gap between himself and the rebel pair.

  "Angina's helping him not to be afraid," Miky said with a flare of pride.

  Now the pairs were level. But the climber in the rebel team had reached a small ledge that allowed him to stand and free his hands. He began to take chunks of rock and hurl them at Hannay.

  "He's trying to dislodge them!" Daffyd cried.

  The big coercer paid no attention and soon had risen above the rebel climber. The rebel turned his attention to Angina and went on hurling stones and abuse.