THE GOD BOX

by Barry B. Longyear

  Ah, Lona. She would end up with the gems. After the judges were through with me, her husband, the draper Yothoc, wound up with my fine house and business properties, and they both wound up with each other. I wound up copperless and hanging from the flogging post in Xaxos Square, named for the god of fools.

  But look at her. Look at lovely Lona, her breasts straining against the laces of her bodice. Her fiery red hair up from that meal of a neck. Could I be blamed if I didn't notice that beggar at my elbow? I didn't even glance at him. Keeping my gaze on Lona, I reached into my purse, pinched a few coins, and held them out just to end the interruption. I didn't even count them or look to see what they were. Ten gold reels seemed like such a pittance then. Of course, after Lona, Yothoc, and the whipmaster were finished with me, I would be scrabbling for half-coppers. But she was very, very beautiful, wasn't she?

  "Yes, she was," answered a deliciously soft voice.

  I opened my eyes to find myself back in the Nant Temple's anteroom. Syndia was standing before me, featherless, but fully dressed. Her dress was rough, pale blue with a darker blue outer robe that also served as a veil. . Beneath her arm she had a bundle wrapped in white cloth. On the floor was a small wooden box of four drawers. She pointed at the case with her free hand. "From the grateful Olassar, this is your inheritance, Korvas."

  I shook my head in shame. "My generosity," I snorted in disgust." It was hardly a thought on my part. The coins were nothing to me then. I don't deserve anything."

  "Korvas, with your entire being consumed by lust, your instinct when asked by Olassar for help was to give it. Another in the same situation might have given Olassar the back of his hand."

  "You say then that I am a good man?" I asked earnestly.

  "I did not go that far." Her lips sprouted a tiny smile. "You are redeemable, Korvas. Redeemable."

  "Would you say that if you knew what I have been thinking of you, priestess?" I countered.

  There was a flash of dark mischief in her eyes. "I know everything you have ever thought of me and every other woman. I have just been through every memory of your life, friend Korvas. If you want to have secrets from me, you had best begin gathering them now."

  The blush from my face must have melted the candles. In embarrassment I turned to my inheritance.

  It was like a tiny barrel with a set of four drawers set into the end and shaped to the rounded sides. The case rested upon scrolled feet, and the top had scrolled ends as well. It was made of a very dark wood, and the highly polished case had an ornately carved ivory handle on top. I lifted it and found the case surprisingly light. There seemed to be an odor of olive wood about it.

  "This is my inheritance? It is strange-looking, but handsome in its own way. I suppose I could trade it for one or two reels, for which I am grateful. It should replace my carpets."

  Syndia pointed at one of the drawers. "Open that."

  I replaced the case on the floor, squatted before it, and pulled open the lower right-hand drawer. Immediately my feet went out from beneath me and I landed on the floor with my bottom. The drawer was filled to capacity with gold ten-reel pieces. "There must be—there must be over . . . a thousand."

  "There is no limit, actually."

  I looked at the priestess. "I don't understand. This case is much too light to have . . . That much gold alone is heavier than this entire case!"

  Syndia held her hand above the case. The drawer closed and the case rose from the floor and placed its handle in her hand. She smiled at me. "Olassar was a very special trader."

  "A great wizard?"

  "No. This is what he purchased with your ten reels."

  "In just what did Olassar trade?" I inquired suspiciously.

  "Whatever you needed for whatever you didn't need," the priestess answered.

  "Oh no." I began shaking my head and backing away from the case. "I can see what's coming, Syndia, and no thank you. This is one of those cruel magic burdens designed as an object lesson by some moralizing wizard with nothing better to do with his time than inflict his bigot's values upon everyone else, destroying those found unworthy. We both know very well just how I would measure."

  "Korvas, no wizard created this object, nor did any wizard give it its power. Here in the temple we have talked about little else since Olassar entrusted us with it. Many of the priests believe it to be a god, or perhaps the home of a god. At the very least the gods touch it."

  I laughed and dismissed the theory with a wave of my hand. "That would be worse, wouldn't it? As I remember, the general run of gods are more bigoted than any mortal, and the especially good gods would have me dead in an instant."

  "Korvas, who you think you are, and who you are, are worlds apart. Know this: I cannot lie to you; you cannot lie to me."

  "A terrible fate for a carpet merchant," I commented.

  However, what Syndia had said was distressingly true, about not being able to lie to her. I had tried and failed. I looked again at the case and slowly shook my head, just imagining all of the wonderful things that might be in it. Being a fellow of enormous needs, my greed almost vibrated with anticipation. "What should I do with this wonder box, then, Syndia?"

  The priestess held out the case to me and let go of it. It hovered there until I grasped it with my hand. "Your carpet business has expired along with your beetles and your toleration by the King's Guard, Korvas. Even now the soldiers search for you."

  "Bah. Jorkis was nothing of a magician. Why would the King's Guard jump because that fool almost purchased a flying carpet?"

  "I believe the charge has something to do with him almost purchasing a crawling carpet."

  "Still, with the hundreds of petty crimes committed every moment in Poor Town, why would the Guard find mine so heinous?"

  "Have you ever heard of Pagas Shadows?" she asked.

  Instantly my spine fused with fear. "The captain of the Heterin Guard?"

  "Yes."

  "Of course. Who hasn't heard of the fiend?" I dismissed the name with what I hoped was a fearless wave of my hand. "But I am too small to draw his attention."

  "That is your hope, Korvas." Syndia placed a gentle hand upon my arm. "Jorkis, you see, is Captain Shadows's father-in-law."

  My veins filled with ice. "The gods save me, Syndia, I am a dead man. I am a standing dead man. I am a standing, talking fool of a dead man. There is no hole in Iskandar deep enough in which to hide." I held her hand in both of mine. "Dear Syndia, once, many years ago, a fishmonger sold Captain Shadows a bad piece of redfish. It is said the fellow is still hanging by his big toes in some slimy, rat-infested dungeon beneath the King's palace. And I tried to shuck a few reels from the captain's father-in-law? I can see my entire life passing before my eyes, and there hasn't been anywhere near enough of it. What am I to do?"

  "Perhaps what you need is to carry on Olassar's work." I looked again at the box. "Yes, I see your point." I pointed at her bundle. "What is that?"

  "My things. I am going with you."

  "With me? But—I mean, you know me. How I am around you. I couldn't."

  "Are you stumbling around now?" she asked.

  I observed myself and was somewhat astonished. "No. I'm not. Did you give me something? Something from this box?"

  "Yes."

  "What was it?"

  "What you needed." She turned and began walking toward the entrance to the temple. "Come along now."

  I caught up with her. "Where are we going?"

  "Olassar had one outstanding contract. It is with the Omergunts in the Mystic Mountains. The chief there is not pleased with the results of Olassar's work. We must make it right."

  "How did you know about this contract?" I asked.

  She laughed and nodded toward Olassar's bequest. "I took from the box what you needed, Korvas, and that contract was it."

  "Why are you coming?"

  "That is my work," she answered.

  "Your work?" I said. "What does that mean? What is your work?"

  "I w
itness miracles."

  Her answer was as clear as coal. It was true I needed to get out of town, and the drawers of Olassar's box were filled with gold. Still, I had this feeling that I was being moved into play by an unseen hand for unknown purposes.

  I admit to having several misgivings about a trip to the far Mystic Mountains, even with so lovely a companion as Syndia. It's almost five hundred miles to Kienosos, and the valley of the Omergunts is another hundred and seventy miles north from there. My boots, what there was left of them, seemed not up to the task. I was certain that before we reached the old city wall I would be walking with nothing but tops covering my toes.

  Since I was carrying Olassar's case of drawers, I thought I might avail myself of its services. If it could come up with gold, perhaps it could do something for my wardrobe. More than that, I could use a horse or jackass, or at least a new pair of boots. I opened a drawer, and found it empty.

  "That's odd," I remarked, because if anything was apparent to me it was my need for a pair of boots. I opened another drawer and found it empty as well. Well, I thought, I'll open the drawer I knew contained the wealth of gold and buy myself a pair of boots—two pair—two pair and a suit. That drawer was empty, as well.

  "Syndia, when I first opened this drawer the box thought I needed gold," I said. "Now it does not?"

  "That is true as far as your understanding takes it, Korvas." The priestess led the way around the fountain across from the King's palace, to a place between the Heterin Temple and the Amuite Temple. There a caravan was assembling in a mad flurry of activity and sound. Camel drivers were attempting to out bray their charges, while magnificent horse-drawn wagons were being outfitted by Nant priests and wagon masters. A detachment of Nant Guards, fully armed with swords and pistols, kept watch.

  Syndia paused in the midst of this clamor and faced me. "I don't believe Olassar's case thought you needed gold. I believe it thought you needed to see gold. Now that you have decided to do Olassar's work, you no longer need to see it."

  I gathered that she meant the box had manipulated me to do its will by the promise of riches it had no intention of delivering. That certainly sounded like a god to me. If it hadn't been for my belief that I could find a loophole in the rules governing the contraption, I probably would have left it, except that that would also have involved staying behind waiting for the King's Guard and leaving behind Syndia. It did little for my sense of justice to contemplate the fact that the Nants are a monastic order of celibates.

  There was certainly my unfinished bit of business with Captain Shadows urging me out of town. I seemed to have spent the better part of my life being moved by things other than my own decisions. Current events lent no evidence that this state of affairs would change any time soon.

  "Well, I do need new boots if I am to be expected to walk to the Mystic," I remarked.

  She laughed again and held out her hands, indicating the caravan being assembled inside the remaining walls of the Elassan Temple. "Does one who rides by caravan need boots?"

  I looked again at the assembling caravan. This was no one-humped affair. I saw at least thirty camels, five of those huge wagons, and more horses than I could accurately estimate. "Where did this come from? Is it yours?"

  "It is the Nant Temple's. We have been preparing the caravan ever since Olassar gave us the case to hold for you. All we were waiting for was your appearance and agreement to carry the case to the Omergunts."

  "Why all this? Why is the Nant faith doing this?" I asked.

  "To witness miracles, a priest of any faith could do no less," answered the priestess.

  Well, that lifted my spirits a bunch. Nevertheless, there was a small part of my spirit that still sagged. "Syndia, do you not think it unseemly to ride in such a fine caravan wearing such shabby boots?"

  "Oh, I see," laughed the priestess. "You meant to say that you wanted a new pair of boots. Olassar's case contains no wants, only needs."

  We have all had experiences with magic before. I wonder to this day why a spell, talisman, wand, or other magical thing cannot be up front and straight about what it is supposed to do. There always has to be a catch or a trick.

  I once bought a talisman created by Redjyak, wizard of Ziven. The wearing of this talisman was supposed to proclaim to all men that I possessed great humility. However, as soon as I placed the talisman around my neck, it disappeared! Now what good is that?

  In the wagon I placed Olassar's curious box in the couch across from mine. I stared at it and teetered between staying and going, that golden vision still hot in my memory, until the wagon began moving.

  I suspected that, although powerful and benevolent, the gods, if they existed at all, had a mean streak.

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  I am a person who needs companionship. It's not that I find my own company disagreeable. Rather, it gets tiresome after awhile. I was left alone in my wagon with my inheritance. There was no door from the passenger compartment to where the driver sat, so that opportunity for conversation was barred. The wagon itself was very comfortable, with deep couches, drapes hanging all around, and soft lighting from sweet-smelling lamps.

  From the door in the rear of the wagon I could see the train stretching behind. I could also see the city walls of Iskandar far behind. That meant that the King's Guard hadn't stopped us. Perhaps they didn't wish to tangle with the Nant Guard, or maybe temple caravans are sacred. Nevertheless, I had escaped the city, and was getting quite bored.

  I was just beginning to entertain thoughts of disguising myself and slipping back into Iskandar when one of the drawers on Olassar's case slid silently open. I leaned forward on my couch to have a peek inside. Instead of the gold I hoped to find there, I found a piece of paper. There were words upon it, and they read: "You cannot return to where you have never left."

  I slumped back in the couch, thinking, what nonsense is this? I leaned forward and addressed the. case. "You, there. What is the meaning of this?"

  The first drawer closed, and as it did so the drawer next to it slid open. "More words; no gold," I observed as I reached in and picked up the next slip of paper. "Let's see," I said as I began to read: "Think." That was it: Think.

  I was beginning to see little hope of making a profit from this bizarre curiosity. Leaving the rear door open, I leaned back and watched the ocean. The King's Highway follows the coast all of the way to Kienosos. Early into the evening, as the red and orange lights of sunset played among the clouds, I saw us pass through the gates of Fort Braw, a squalid wayside town that hundreds of years ago was an important military town. At the time the wagon carried me into its center, however, it was little more than a way station for weary travelers and a hiding place for murderers and thieves from the King's Guard. Although the King's law rules in the road towns in theory, in practice the locals rely rather heavily upon mutual agreements and personal armaments for justice. The caravan stopped, and in a moment I saw Iamos walk up to my door.

  "Master Korvas, has your ride been pleasant?"

  "Comfortable. Lonely, but comfortable."

  "Lonely?" His face crawled about until it was again carrying that loathsome smile. "It has been so many years, the thought never crossed my mind."

  "What thought?"

  "That anyone would find solitude lonely. It is our custom to travel alone—to live alone. We find it more conducive to meetings and conversations with the gods." I glanced at my inheritance and back at Iamos. "Do any of your gods have ivory handles?" I inquired.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Never mind, Iamos. Are we going to spend the night here?"

  "No. We will be here only an hour or so to change horses. We will travel through the night and stop at Fort Damra. Would you like me to arrange a traveling companion for you?"

  "That would be pleasant." A quick thought crossed my mind. "But tomorrow. I will sleep soon. Are we to
eat in the village?"

  "Either that, or you are welcome to partake of our humble fare."

  "My thanks, Iamos, but I think I'll have a look around town."

  Iamos nodded and walked toward the front of the train. I saw a familiar face loitering in front of a local tavern. In a flash my mind was made up and I reached out my hand toward Olassar's box and snapped my fingers. "Let's go."

  The box just sat there. I stood up, gripped the handle and tried to lift the thing. It weighed so much I couldn't budge it. The strange thing was that it hardly dented the cushion upon which it was sitting. "Come on. You're mine now, and I say let's go."