by Andre Norton
A flick of her head and one of those coils of rope was caught between her teeth. She jerked it from Krispin and now she moved toward where Gruck waited, the water rising about her sleek hide.
For a space of perhaps a breath or two the giant and the Keplian faced each other. Destree believed that they exchanged some messages—but if so, it was on a mind-plane beyond her reach.
Gruck took the rope, swiftly fashioned a loop in one end. Then, even to the amazement of the Lady Eleeri, he tossed that loop over Theela’s head while she stood still and allowed such bondage.
Jasta pushed past Keris, snagging on his way another coil of the hide rope. Behind him trotted the two other Keplians.
“So—that is the way it is.” Lord Romar did not linger to take off swordbelt or mail, but waded in, the waves of water set up by the others’ splashing well up to his shoulders. But even those battering waves of the water did not hinder him from making three neck loops in the stretch of hide and then heading toward where Gruck had disappeared, carrying the loose coils of the rest.
As he passed Theela, who was standing as firmly rooted as a rock, he looked back.
“We’ll need even more hands here.” He must have picked up some message from the mare.
Keris splashed in, and heard the Falconers and Borderers follow. Then Destree brushed past him and, before he could stop her, was scrambling up the crumbling rock down which the giant had rolled the log.
There was a completed netting of hide ropes, linking men, Keplians, Renthan, and the two best-trained of the Torgians, before Destree showed her sun-browned face on the bank above.
“At the signal,” she called, “pull with all your strength!”
Keris could not conceive of the size of any tree log which would so engage all their efforts. But he stood, feet a little apart and ready.
At first it seemed that they were straining to move one of the mountains behind them, something so earth-rooted it could never be freed by such puny efforts.
Then—
The line of humans and animals was nearly thrown full into the flood as the strain suddenly ceased. Yet the lines of hide were still taut, while a second or two later what they fought against seemed as firmly set as ever—but not quite.
Water splashed up against Keris’s cheek. Eleeri, her hawk features sharply set, was steering Mouse, supporting the girl who was so much shorter that the river water washed her chin. Behind came Liara, her face set with determination.
Up the bank they pulled themselves, smearing arms and legs with clay. Then they disappeared where Destree had stood only moments earlier.
Meanwhile those in the river held their hide ropes taut and waited for a second signal. Keris was aware of not only the mutter of the stream but the heavy breathing of both men and animals. But otherwise the jungle before them was quiet.
There were movements he could not see, hidden by the growth on the banks above, twitches and short pulls to which he instinctively adjusted his own hold.
Once more Destree appeared, a scarecrow figure so bedabbed with leaf muck and clay that she was like an ill-made image of herself.
“Pull!”
They threw themselves into the task. There was no answer at first and then, unwillingly, something began again to move in answer to their efforts.
Keris could hear the snapping of vines and branches. Some whipped viciously through the air, while torn leaves rained down into the open, plastering stickily to the men and animals.
Slightly to the left of where Destree had stood there rose what looked like a barrier of sorts, coated with the loose leaves, dangling vines. Again they halted—all of them looking up at that low wall.
Now it was the Lady Eleeri who showed herself to one side, her muddy hand actually resting on the top of that barrier.
“Back! Out!” By mind-speech and word she almost screamed those orders, then leaned forward to slash at the nearest knotting of rope with her sword. They went, some of them backing through the water without taking time to turn.
There was a shudder along that barrier. Eleeri took a quick leap to the side, crashing into a vine-draped growth to which she clung.
Out and out, farther and farther projected what seemed to be no tree trunk but a platform of some kind. It was covered with masses of leaf muck and clay, yet that had scraped away from the bottom in places and Keris could see what seemed to be a smooth surface, certainly no barked wood.
It teetered for a moment on the edge of the bank and then, overbalancing, skidded out into the air and down, causing waves and a curling of water from which those below escaped with some difficulty.
All Keris could think of, as he wiped the muddy water from his eyes and somehow made it back to the bank, was that the roof of some fair-sized garth had taken wings to land before them. But a closer look showed him that this jungle find had more of the appearance of a merchants’ barge such as he had seen on the Es River.
It rode low in the water, wavelets lapping down and then over the edges, but he could see that it was not shallow. Rather, the interior was filled with ancient debris shed by the jungle. And it certainly could not be of wood, or it would long ago have rotted away.
They approached it tentatively and then once more put their ropes to use to tow it back toward the open space at the cliff foot.
Destree crouched back in the vast hollow where the thing had lain, Liara crowded beside her on one side, Mouse, her sodden robe plastering heavily against her, on the other.
On Destree’s knees rested Gruck’s head. His deep-pitted eyes were closed and his breath came in uneven gasps. There were bloody tears in the fur on his shoulders and his whole body shook as if he lay unprotected in the snow of high winter.
How he had finally, even with all their help, gotten that find out of the clutch of the earth she would never understand, but that he was near the end of his strength she knew. Now she leaned closer over him, not taking her amulet from about her neck but keeping it linked with her, as she let it lie on his forehead. There was a launch of a fur body nearly as dark as the one she nursed as Chief nestled down, half covering that wide chest.
Hesitantly Liara moved. She stretched her thin body, less than two-thirds the length of the giant’s, beside his and clasped as much as she could against her. Her tongue showed between those over-sharp teeth and she licked Gruck’s chest near where his mighty heart was visibly laboring.
Mouse fell to her knees. She held high her jewel and, though there was no sun here to bring it radiance, it glowed. Eleeri moved behind the witch, laying hands on the girl’s slight shoulders, willing into the rising Power all she herself could give. This gentle giant was not of their species. It might be he could not answer in his extremity to what they would do—but what they had to give, they would.
The witch jewel blazed. Now its radiance came in waves, and each succeeding wave stroked farther down that long body until Gruck was enclosed by it. Eleeri felt her talent answer, drawn upon. She strove to summon it from the very depths of her. All the knowledge of her grandfather—shaman knowledge, some of it stretching back to the beginning of mankind—she fought to channel into Mouse.
What happened at the river now meant nothing, only that this stranger who had come to be a deep part of their company must be saved.
Liara raised her head. “His heart—it is beating stronger.” Once more she returned to her licking, as a hound mother might fight to restore an injured whelp.
Mouse was sagging; twice she dragged herself more straight. And Eleeri’s hands and arms ached as if she had carried some great burden for days.
They were unaware that others moved around them now, hesitant to come closer, knowing that Power worked to the upmost peak these could raise. Then Eleeri felt hands fall also on her shoulders in turn and into her flooded a new wave of strength. Under her own touch in turn, Mouse was straightening again, and the jewel blazed like a fallen star.
On Destree’s knee Gruck’s head turned a fraction. His eyes were still clos
ed, but he was speaking in grunts she could not understand. On sudden impulse she leaned even closer.
“Guardsman of Alatar, return! The trail still lies waiting ahead.”
She tried to strike into the mind which moments before had been closed to her. Gruck opened his eyes.
I come—It was as if he answered her summons.
It was on Theela’s back that they brought the giant back to the cliffside camp. And there, floating, though still uncleared of debris, was what he had won for them.
Gruck, propped against a backing of packs, looked at it after Destree had gotten down him a strengthening potion.
“It is a boat—of sorts—our transport.” Lord Romar had settled down beside him. “But how did you know where it lay?”
Slowly Gruck shook his head and then grinned, sweeping his tongue across his thick lips.
It—it called to me. This—he waved a hand toward the waiting jungle—is like part of my homeland. There we know—when a tree dies—when even the egg of a varch is broken in the nest. He touched his forehead with his finger.
I knew that there was something there, not rooted, not part of the proper life where it lay. You have much Power. But Power is not all alike. We guardsmen are one with the forests—what is natural there does not call.
“You said that lizard thing called.” Romar rubbed his hand along his chin. “Yet do these not know naturally themselves how to break their pods?”
Gruck shrugged. “Concerning such life I know nothing. Only that that one needed help.”
Whoever had left that barge must have vanished long ago. The more the travelers cleared it, the more work seemed to stretch before them.
It was Destree who sought out Mouse before the witch made contact with Gull. “Does it seem to you that fortune serves us too well?” she asked.
“We know we are summoned,” Mouse replied soberly. “But the Light can provide as well as the Dark. Lord Romar says that the current in midstream is strong enough to speed us on our way, and they have cut poles to use. This much I know—we go to meet that which will not be refused, nor can be avoided.”
There was little talk among the travelers that night; they were too tired. But Liara looked up at the stars and lay awake for a time. Her actions as part of this company seemed to have opened one of these gates all were mad about. The Hearthkeeper of Krevanel was fast disappearing and perhaps in the end no one would care—even herself.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The City Lost to Memory, South
L uckily fortune favored them in some ways. Keris wiped his arm across his sweating face and took a firmer hold on the long pole. Though the current of the river flowed in their favor, they needed the poles to fend off floating weed mats and waterlogged trees. This was the third day since they had left the cliffside. Luckily the river was wide enough so that the green gloom did not quite close over their heads.
None of them had been able to identify the material from which their present craft had been originally fashioned. Once freed of the debris of burying years, it seemed to be almost a giant half-shell or pod, sleekly gleaming as they had scrubbed it clean. But it was certainly not of any wood they knew, or time would have eaten it long ago. Nor did it give off any ring of metal. And to suggest it might be the shell of some monster was more than even the most active imagination would agree.
Who had left it there, and why, they would never know, but Gruck continued to insist that it was not native to the land in which it had been found.
Quarters aboard were crowded, the animals stationed at the centermost point, the humans, who were needed in relays at the poles, around the edge. Their supplies depended entirely on the river’s bounty itself.
Some of the clusters of floating weeds Gruck fished out eagerly. There were small shelled things there which could be eaten if one was hungry enough—and they certainly were—and some of the not so waterlogged weed was given to the mounts, who sniffed at it disdainfully at first and then were driven to such graze. Once they had passed under a vine swinging barely a little above their heads across the water, dragged down by a number of round melonlike growths.
It was Keris’s flame lash, aimed as best he could with the barge bobbing under him, which cut the vine, and Gruck grabbed at its falling line, hauling it swiftly into the boat.
With visions of more poison-spitting flying lizards, the rest of the party gave the giant as much room as they dared. But with his knife he split apart the nearest ball and the fresh scent of the juice which squirted out was enough to overcome their caution.
They ate half their catch, the humans scraping out the crisp inner sections, the mounts falling eagerly on the tougher skins. And the remaining four they wedged in among their packs.
Several times flying lizards swooped above them and always the hawks became nearly frantic, having to be quickly soothed by the Falconers. But none of the creatures came close enough to attack.
The travelers did not seek any tie with the banks, from their entrance in the water on, keeping to the river by common consent both night and day. There was no guessing what might lie in wait within that fastness of entangled growth, and at least over the water there was a faint suggestion of breeze to fight the draining humidity of the stifling heat.
In spite of the caution which had been drilled into them from their earliest years, the Falconers, the Borderers, Keris, and Lord Romar had been driven to discard their helms, their mail, even the leather quilted underskirts, and bent to their service at the poles nearly bare of body.
It was midmorning on the fourth day when they came suddenly on the first break in the jungle wall. Into this cut the sun beat steadily and there was a heavy droning as if some great creature breathed.
At Lord Romar’s quick gesture they poled the barge closer to the opposite shore. Already the men were reaching for their discarded armor and weapons.
Liara moved forward first, and deep in her throat sounded that small growl. But Destree and the Lady Eleeri were not far behind. Yes, there was movement across river—and life—a feasting! Liara saw a limp gray arm pulled into the air as two of the flying lizards fought for a better grip on the already rotting flesh.
There were four such humps quivering under the attentions of the lizards or of smaller creatures who were so fast in their attempts to gather some of the torn flesh that they could hardly be seen.
Oddly enough, the remains were spaced in an exact pattern. And the carnage was grounded on what seemed to be pavement. Towering over the scene was a tall shape fashioned in a position which no human could have held for any length of time, its sharp knees half bent, clawed forepaws resting on them, shoulders hunched a little. The ovoid which was its head bent forward so it seemed to be watching the scene below with critical appreciation.
Clearly it had been constructed of the same red-brown material as the barge and probably by the same hands. But about it hung a cruel madness which seemed to lead those it watched to even greater frenzy in their feasting.
“Gray Ones,” Liara identified the slain.
“Servant of the Outer Dark!” Mouse’s voice arose over hers. Her hand moved as if she would reach for her jewel, and then she shook her head.
“Such shells are sometimes open for those who come,” she said. “If it has not life within it still, let no touch of Power bring it awakening.”
They were ready to agree with that and poled valiantly, bringing the barge into midstream, where the current ran the swiftest.
“So still the Gray Ones come,” the Lady Eleeri said. “But they serve the Dark—why should they then suffer such an end?”
“Because,” Destree made answer, “great Evil Ones do not return any loyalty to those who serve them. It may be that what awaits beyond must have pain and blood to build up its power—therefore it takes from those answering its call.”
Liara shivered. “The Dark One,” she muttered. “What could he get from us if he used us so?”
“That is why we go.” Mouse had turned h
er head so she could no longer see even the edge of that opening in the jungle.
They were very silent as the barge bobbed on and the men swung the poles. None of them was green to warfare. They had battle scars, and memories which sometimes became night dreams of torment, but there was something about that monstrous thing presiding over the feast of the dead which carried the seeds of a new fear.
There were no more such interruptions to their voyage, though at first most of them expected secretly to come across other massacres. However, they needed to come to an end of this depleting journey. Their mounts were suffering from the poor forage and they were ready themselves to sink under the dank heat which beat at them.
As long as the tree canopy seemed to be so close, neither Falconer would send his bird on scout. However, at dawn the second day after they had left the clearing they sighted a break in that roofing and Krispin released Farwing.
The bird flew swiftly, cutting upward into a patch of open sky as they floated on, impatient for its return. Then suddenly Gruck stuck his pole deeply enough in the river that with his great strength he could for a moment or so halt their advance.
Faster water—His message was interrupted by one from Theela, who had shouldered her way among the other animals to the fore of their section.
*Open land—but the river—it falls!*
Lord Romar and Eleeri, long trained by their years of roaming, looked from one bank to another. If they faced a falls or rapids of some sort, their barge would be no place of safety. On the right the green of the heavy growth apparently made a firm stand, but to the left some storm of the past had brought down several trees to crush their lesser fellows, opening up a way.
A flash of wings and Farwing was back. Krispin caressed the bird as they communicated, and then he said swiftly:
“It is true. The jungle ends not far ahead. There is another cliff, but not such as we have had to face. However, the river narrows into a falls, descending thus to a lake.”
So at last they had to dare the jungle, if only the fringe of it. Once more their mounts accepted the packs, leaving the humans to open the way. Swords were drawn and ran sticky with saps of different hues and they all tried not to touch what whipped back at them.