“Demons,” Charmian whimpered once more. “Yes…oh, it seems that I remember them, rushing by me in this place. But how?”
“What do you remember? Have you been down this pit?” he rasped at her. He wondered if she was planning some deception. But she only shook her head, and continued to avert her face.
He pulled her to her feet and led her down the curving path once more. What else could he do? Daylight enough came trickling from above to show the way. They came to a doorway, but when Chup peered in there was nothing but an alcove, no way out. No way out…but he must go on to pass his pledging, to reach the power of the inner circles of the East.
What else could he do? Down and down they went, though very slowly now.
Soon it began again, the noise far down below them, climbing fast.
“It is Zapranoth,” said Charmian.
This time a bass quaver, that told of madness rampant in the foundation of the world; this time the whole world shuddered and sickened with the coming up, and the light it cast before was blue and horrible.
Charmian began to scream: “Lord Z—”
Chup grabbed her, stifling her mouth beneath his palm, and cast himself and her once more down upon the narrow curving ledge, this time at full length, with both their faces turned toward the wall of rock. With a twisting and a stretching of the universe, with impacts of great footfalls smiting air and rock, the blaring, glaring Lord of Demons trampled past them. If they were seen, they were ignored, as two ants might have been.
Chup did not see the demon. His eyes had shut themselves, and at the moment of the demon’s closest presence all his bones seemed turned to jelly. This must be Zapranoth. Against this, no use to think of showing bravery; compared to this, the demons rising earlier had been small. And the demon who, days ago, had entered his beggar’s hovel to heal and threaten him—that one had been a nasty child making faces, nothing more.
When the world was still and sane and tolerable once more, he raised his head, gripped Charmian by the hair, and turned her face toward him. “How did you know that it was him? From far away, when first he started up?”
She looked convincingly bewildered. “I don’t know…my Lord Chup, I do not know. By his sound? But how could I ever have heard him, met him, and forgotten it? You are right, I knew at once that it was he. But I don’t know how I knew.”
Chup got slowly to his feet. There was one small comfort: the game he was to play could not proceed until the Demon-Lord came back from whatever unforeseen errand had called him out. Chup would have to find some means of stalling until then. But at the moment he could think of no plausible excuse for staying where they were. Slowly he led Charmian downward once again.
They had gone but two more turns around the gradually narrowing chimney when there came a different and more human sound, from far above. It was faint, but to Chup’s ears unmistakable—the cry and clash of men at war. Chup listened, knowing now what had called the demons forth. No one in the citadel had thought it possible for Thomas to make a direct assault; well, it was not the first time he had been underestimated.
So the wait for Zapranoth might take some time, though it seemed likely that he ultimately would return triumphant. It was hard to imagine that Thomas could raise a power equal to the Demon Lord, even if he could get his army up the pass. Chup grinned the way he did when he felt pain. He led Charmian on down until they came to another doorway opening into another blind alcove. There he took her by the arm and pulled her in.
“What is it?” she whispered, terrified anew.
“Nothing. Just that we must wait a bit.”
He expected her to ask him why, and wondered how he could answer. But she only stood there with her eyes downcast, face half-hidden by her hair. Surely this behavior was a pose, part of some plan she was evolving. He had seen her terrified before, but never meek and silent.
Considering what to do next, he sat down with his back against the wall, watching the entrance to their alcove. Almost timidly, she slid down beside him. In her new, small voice she said: “Lord Chup, when I was in the cell, I hoped it would be you who came for me.”
He grunted. “Why?”
“Oh, not that you would come to help me, I didn’t dare hope that. Even now…but I knew that if you came to take revenge, you would be quick and clean about it. Not like Som, not like any of the others.”
He grunted again. Suddenly anxious to know what it would feel like now, freed of all enchantments, he pulled her near, so that their mouths and bodies were crushed together. She gasped and tensed, as if surprised—and then responded, with all her skill and much more willingness than ever before.
And he discovered that to him, the touch of her meant nothing. It was no more than hugging some huge breathing doll. He let her go.
To his surprise, she clung to him, weeping. He had never seen this act before; puzzled, he waited to learn its point.
Between her sobs she choked out: “You—you find me then—not too much changed?”
“Changed?” Then he remembered certain things, that made her puzzling behavior understandable. “No. No, you are not changed at all. Our mighty viceroy was lying about the destruction of your beauty. You look as good as ever, except for a little dirt.” For the first time in days Chup could hear his own voice as an easy, natural thing.
Charmian stared at him for a moment and dared to believe him. Her sobs changed abruptly into cries of joy and relief. “Oh, Chup, you are my lord—high and only Lord.” She choked on fragments of strange laughter.
Feelings Chup had not known were his came fastening on him now like mad familiars. He could not sort them out or put them down. He groaned aloud, jumped up, and pulled Charmian to her feet. He seized her shoulders, gripping them until it seemed that bones might crunch, while she gasped uncomprehendingly. Then, still holding her with his left hand, he drew back his right and swung it, open-palmed but with all his rage. “That, for betraying me, for using me, for trying to have me killed!”
The blow stretched her out flat, and silenced all her cries. A little time passed before she stirred and groaned and sat up, for once ungracefully. Her hair no longer hid her face. Blood dripped from her mouth and there was a lump already swelling on her cheek. She finally could ask him, in the most dazed and tiniest of voices: “Why now? Why hit me now?”
“Why, better later than never. I take my revenge my own way, as you said. Not like Som, nor any of the others here.” Gripping his sword hilt, he looked out of the alcove, up and down the spiral path. Let them come against him now, he was Chup, his own man, and so he meant to die.
When he saw no understanding in her dazed face, he went on: “Shake your head and get it clear. I was not to lead you out of this foul place. I was to play the court jester for Som and Zapranoth; thus should I prove my fitness to join the elite of the East. They will not have a free man’s service. They must have pledgings, and grovelings, and for all I know, kissings of their hinder parts as well. Then will they open to their tested slave the secrets of power and the doors of wealth. So they say. Liars. Gigglers at cripples, and pullers of wings from flies. I know not if Som stinks of death—or only loadbeast-droppings!”
He felt better for that lengthy speech, and better still for the action that had just preceded it. Now there ensued a silence, while his breathing slowed and Charmian’s grew steadier, and she ceased to moan.
And now once more he heard, from far above, the clash and cry of many men at arms.
Charmian, her voice now nearly normal, asked: “Is that Thomas’s assault we hear? The one our generals thought could not be made?”
Chup grunted.
“They of the West bear me great hatred,” Charmian said. “But if I’ve any choice I’ll go to them instead of Som.”
“You’d be wise, if you could do so. They in the West are living men, and many would fall down swooning at a flutter of your eyelids. What is it now?”
Some thought or memory had brought a look of new surprise into he
r face. “Chup. I have never been down into this cave before—and yet I think I have. Things as they happen seem familiar. The winding path, these alcoves. The sounds the demons make in passing, and the feelings that they bring—the wretched feelings most of all.” She shivered. “But how can I have known them, and not remember plainly?”
His thought was practical. “If you have been in this cavern, or seen it in some vision, then remember a way out of it, that we can use.”
She gave him a long, probing look, with something in it of her old haughtiness. Her bruised face did somewhat spoil the effect. “Have you finished now with taking your revenge on me?”
“I have more important things to think of. Getting out of here, now that I’ve spoiled my pledging. Yes, I’ll help you out if you’ll help me. But turn treacherous again, and I’ll kick you down the pit at once.”
She nodded soberly. “Then I’ll help you all I can, for I know what to expect from Som. What must we do?”
“You ask me? I thought you might recall an exit from this hole. And quickly. While the battle’s fierce, we’re probably forgotten.”
Doubtfully and anxiously she stared at him. “I think—whether it is memory or a vision that I have—I think that there is no way out for us below.” Her voice grew dreamy. “At the bottom of this chimney there are only huge blind chambers in the blackened rock. And strange lights, and the demons roaring past. I would have run back, screaming, but my father gripped my—” She broke off with a little cry, her blue eyes widening.
“Your father led you down here? Ekuman?” Chup did not bother trying to understand that; if it was part of some new and elaborate deception, he could not see its point. He prompted: “How did you get out? If there’s no way below, we must go up again. Where does the top of this shaft break out of the mountain?”
She had to make an effort to recall herself, to answer him. “I don’t know. I don’t think that I was ever at the top of this chimney. It seems to me we entered and left it at the level of the cells…Chup, why would my father bring me here?”
Not answering, Chup led her out of the alcove, and started on the long ascent, at a good pace. Little was said between them until they drew near the level of the cells again. Here Chup proceeded cautiously, but there was still no one else in sight. The cell that had been Charmian’s was once more unbarred and open. Every available man must have been mobilized to fight; but how long that situation might last was impossible to guess.
He gripped Charmian’s arm. “You say you entered and left the shaft here. Remember a way out of the citadel that we can use.”
“I…” She rubbed her head wearily. “I can remember no such way. We should go on to the top. There must be some exit there, to sunlight if not freedom.”
Chup went up quickly. The sounds of combat were noticeably louder here.
Still they met no one. The chimney straightened to show them the gray-blue sky, over a mouth ringed by ragged outcroppings of rock. The path seemed to go right up to the mouth and out to unbarred freedom.
Chup and Charmian had only one more circuit of the chimney to climb, to its outlet barely ten meters above them, when there appeared there against the sky the head of a man in Guardsman’s helm and collar, looking down. Before Chup could react, the man had seen them. He called out something, as if to others behind him, and withdrew from sight.
“Perhaps I should go first,” suggested Charmian, in a whisper.
“I think so.” He would rather not try to fight his way up this narrow path, against unknown odds. “I’ll walk a step behind you, as your aide.” The men above could not be certain of Chup’s and Charmian’s current power and status, not even if they knew she was a prisoner last night. So things went in the intrigue-ridden courts of the East.
Charmian ran combing fingers through her hair, put on a smile, and took the lead. With Chup following impassively they marched another half-turn up the chimney, which brought them into plain view of the pathway’s narrow exit at the top, and of the men who guarded it. These were looking down with, to say the least, considerable suspicion. There were eight or ten of the Guard in view, and Chup noted with inward discouragement that they included pikemen and archers.
Anger in her voice, Charmian called up: “You there, officer! Why do you stare in insolence? Bring cool water to me! We have slipped and fallen and nearly killed ourselves upon your miserable path!” There must be an explanation of her soiled garments, and of Chup’s anger marked upon her cheek and lip.
The faces of the soldiers turned from hard suspicion to noncommittal blankness. On Chup’s breast the chain that Som had given him still swung, massive and golden, and he made sure it could be seen, at the same time he favored the officer with his best haughty and impatient stare.
The Guards officer—a lieutenant—softened considerably from his first hard pose. He could not keep his new perplexity from showing. “My lady Charmian. I had heard that you—” He shifted his stance. “That is, you or no one else is to be allowed to pass this way, according to the orders I have been given.”
“The lady wanted a good look at the fighting,” Chup said, guiding her forward with a touch. From the way some of the soldiers kept glancing over their shoulders he guessed that the action was in plain sight from where they stood.
The lieutenant protested. “Lord, why did you not watch from the battlement instead?” But he made no attempt to block their way. Instead he turned to one of his men, ordering: “Here, find some water for the lady.”
Charmian and Chup had now come right up to the top of the path, and stood among the soldiers. They had emerged in the midst of the broken plain, roughly halfway between the citadel and the sudden drop-off of the cliffs. Looking out over a breastwork of piled rocks, they had a good view of the fighting, perhaps three hundred meters distant. The fight was not at the moment being carried on with blades, but it was none the less a deadly struggle. Holding the roadhead at the pass were some fourscore men of the West, Chup saw, along with the balloons that must have surprised the defenders. The Guard, or most of it, was drawn up on the plain in battle ranks, but only waiting now.
Above the ground between the battle lines, drifting, like some foul cloud of smoke, was Zapranoth. The power of the Demon-Lord was being turned away from Chup, but still he thought he felt its backlash here, and looked away toward the citadel. Small figures were on the parapet; he thought he could see Som. Above the fort, a single valkyrie droned toward its lofty home.
Charmian finished her thirsty drinking from a canteen handed to her by an awkward soldier. “Oh, Captain,” she now smiled, dabbing prettily at her sore lips, “I had heard you were a man of gallantry and I believed it true, and I have climbed that horrible path to reach you. I wish to see the ending of the battle close at hand, not stand with all the timid females behind a wall. Surely if I go out a little way, a little closer, I will still be safe, with you and all these stalwart men of yours at hand?”
“I…” The lieutenant floundered, trying to be firm. It was so easy for her. Chup marveled in silence, shaking his head slightly while he took his turn at the canteen. Distant Guardsmen chanted a war cry, and somewhere a reptile cawed.
Charmian was going on. “We do not mean that you should leave your post. The Lord Chup will go with me, but a little way out upon the plain here…I will tell you the truth, there is a wager involved, and I feel I must reward you if you can help me win it.”
The lieutenant had no more chance than if Chup had come upon him here unarmed and alone. In the space of half a dozen more breaths Charmian was being helped over the barricade of stones, her escorting lord beside her. As they walked out upon the empty, crevice-riven field that stretched away toward the fighting, he heard the reptile again, cawing somewhere behind them; and this time he thought he could make out a word or two within its noise. Chup took his bride by the arm, as if to steady her on the hazardous ground, and she heeded the silent increase of his fingers’ pressure. They walked faster. With a stride and a stride
and another stride, the barricade, the soldiers, and the power of the East fell meter by meter behind them. Not that the way in front was clear.
“…escaaaaped!” came the raw reptile cry, much louder now. “Rewaaards for their bodies, double reward for them alive! Trraaitor, Chup of the Northern Provinces! Prisoner escaped, Charrrmian of the Broken Lands!”
Chup ran, dodging with every second or third stride to spoil the archers’ aim. Charmian, close behind him, screamed as if they had caught her already. Now ahead of him there loomed across his way a chasm, one of the splits that ran in deeply from the mountain’s edge. It was too wide at this point for even a desperate man to try a jump. The farther Chup ran the more treacherously uneven grew the footing, and he dropped to all fours to scramble over it, even as an arrow sang past his ear. From the officer’s bawled orders not far behind, he knew that close pursuit was right at hand. The reptile now shrieked in triumph right above him. Charmian cried out her panic with each breath, but her cries stayed right at Chup’s heels.
He reached the edge of the deep crevice. To follow along it on this footing of broken, tilting rocks would be a slow and tortuous process, and the pursuit could not fail to catch up to easy arrow range at once. To jump across the chasm was impossible. To attempt to scramble down its nearly vertical side would have seemed at any other time like madness, but now Chup unhesitatingly began to slide and grab. Better a quick fall than the demon-pits below the citadel. But all was not lost yet: on a slope this steep there must be overhangs, to offer some protection against missiles from above; and Chup could see now that at a distant bottom the crevice ran out in a dry watercourse and got away from Som.
Chup swung from handholds, danced and bounded, leaping down the slope. Another arrow twirred past him, going almost straight down, and after it the hurtling blur of a slung rock. He started falling, slid and grabbed in desperation, and got his feet upon a ledge that was not much wider than his soles. A moment later he was clutched by Charmian sliding down beside him and almost pulled into the abyss. To his left the ledge all but vanished, then widened into what looked like opportunity, a sizable flat spot under a large overhang. With Charmian still clutching at his garments, he lunged that way. Somehow the two of them scrambled to that spot of comparative safety, on footholds that would have been suicidal if attempted with cold calculation.
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