The Prophet Of Lamath

by Hughes, Robert Don

  Bronwynn, too, was watching, but with wonder rather than caution. Her homeland of Chaomonous was flat and fertile, a country of great rivers and vast fields. What few mountains she had seen were the short, round-top hills of the southern sector of that land. Never before had she seen mountains so tall and steep and of such stark beauty, nor valleys so wildly green. To her left, the sheer face of the Spinal Range climbed up and out of sight. To her right, the craggy highlands of fabled Ngandib-Mar unrolled as far as she could see. Every majestic mountain peak rose out of its own deliciously green little valley. It all seemed so close and immediate that Bronwynn felt she could reach out and touch it. Yet when she dropped her eyes to the vast plain below them, plaidlike from the crisscross pattern of furrowed fields and fences, she realized those hills and valleys that looked so near were really miles away. Still, somehow she had the sensation of being in an intimate land, a manageable land, a warm, familiar, closeknit land. Her feelings frightened her. To experience such exultation at the mere sight of this foreign place- this hereditary enemy of her homeland-seemed somehow treasonous. This was the homeplace of squat blond slaves, she reminded herself-a land of cannibals and witchcraft. But those craggy mountains across the valley stole her heart with their simple, powerful beauty. It was a jolting experience, one not entirely pleasant. Unexplained melancholy seized her; and though she had not cried once throughout the ordeal of her abduction, a stupid, senseless tear now trickled down her cheek. She brushed it away, and closed her eyes against the splendor of the world below her.

  Their horse was tiring, but it proudly carried them on, up a small rise toward a grove of wild green apple trees. Here a stream found its way out of the mountains and dropped gaily toward the valley in a series of stepped waterfalls and rapids. Pelman was sensitive to the horse's weariness and stopped. His own bottom felt weary as well. He reined in under an apple tree and hopped off, bending to stretch and relax his legs before reaching up to lift Bronwynn down from the saddle. They had said nothing to one another since they left the pass, and Pelman was not really inclined toward conversation now. He pulled an apple from the tree and tossed it to her, then went to tend to the horse's needs.

  As Pelman stripped the horse of its saddle to get at the Ognadzu colors and remove them, Bronwynn wandered beneath the trees. She doffed her sandals, and tested the tall, moist grass with the soles of her feet. She was amazed at the greenness of the greens, and wondered idly if her father had ever seen anything so beautiful as this land.

  Her father. He needed to know that she was safe. "How are you taking me home?" she called to Pelman.

  He put a finger to his lips to warn her to silence, then smiled. Pelman had a toothy, attractive smile. It encouraged trust in the trusting, and suspicion in the suspicious. He walked toward her, pulling another apple from the tree. Then, dropping full length on the grassy rug beside her, he began to munch the fruit.

  "Well?" she added, more softly, but with just a touch of royal impatience.

  "How-meaning in what direction, or by what means?" he asked.

  "Either," Bronwynn shrugged. "Both." Pelman took another bite, then rolled over onto his back. He chewed for a moment, then spat out a seed. "The fact of the matter is, I don't know." "You don't know! Then where are we going!" Pelman thought about that for a moment. "Away," he then said simply.

  "That's no answer!" Bronwynn stamped. "On the contrary, my Lady. In this case, it is the very best answer-for right now." "I don't understand what you're talking about." "Events have been put in motion, my Lady, events in which you play an important role. We must balance these actions with some unexpected reaction, or evil plans may succeed." "What plans? What are you talking about?" "I don't know myself, my Lady. But since these plans have already included your abduction and captivity, I would guess that you would prefer they be foiled." "So take me home then." "And let you be kidnapped again?" "What difference does it make to you?" "I don't know." Pelman smiled. "Perhaps a great deal." He took another bite out of the apple, and Bronwynn began judging the distance between herself and the horse.

  "My father always said you were crazy, Pelman. He didn't know the half of it." She strolled casually toward the stream, watching out of the comer of her eye as the horse dropped his head down to drink.

  "Your father and I have had our disagreements, it's true." Pelman nodded, gazing at the blue sky between the leaves above him. "My major argument with Talith as an audience is that he always tends to believe he knows what you are going to say before you say it-and then replies to what he thinks you've said, rather than to what you've actually said. He takes it into his mind that he knows more about what's going on than anyone around him . . . which of course leaves all around him free to do anything they wish. He is suspicious of his friends, and trusting of his enemies." "Mmm-hmmn," she agreed, bending down to the stream to take a cupped handful of the icy water. She judged herself to be twenty feet from the horse. Pelman, behind her, was at least another twenty feet farther from the horse than she, and was lying on his back. Could she make it to the beast and onto it before Pelman could react and catch her? "Of course," Pelman continued, "since he rarely listens to what others are saying, he's frequently surprised by what others do. He is chagrined when others seem to read his mind. But it is just that Talith is so obvious in what he thinks!" "Yes, sometimes," Bronwynn said absently, moving a step closer to the horse.

  "It appears perhaps you take after him." "Why do you say that?" Bronwynn asked politely.

  She had decided that three more steps would put her close enough to make her dash.

  "Because you're obviously planning to try to steal the horse, and don't realize that any fool could tell." Pelman rolled onto his stomach and smiled at her shocked expression. "As I can," he concluded. She gave Pelman her full attention now, and tensed her muscles, ready to make the attempt anyway. "Go ahead, my Lady, if you desire. But don't be surprised if the road back to your father proves difficult to find and dangerous to travel." "There are paths through the mountains," she said defiantly. "Our slave raiders travel them regularly." "So do raiders from Ngandib-Mar-or had you forgotten that slavery cuts both ways?" "I could find the path and hide, until the golden warriors of Chaomonous approach, and then show myself!" "I don't believe even you are that naive, my Lady. The warriors of Chaomonous, while raiding for slaves, certainly don't advertise who they are by wearing golden mail. They disguise themselves. But assuming you should make contact with raiders from your own land-how do you think they would respond to you?" "They would recognize me as their Princess!" Pelman chuckled. "Why are you laughing? Are you laughing at me?" She stomped angrily.

  "Bronwynn, can you imagine the reaction of a normal, sane warrior of Chaomonous to a dirty little girl he has captured in the mountains of Ngandib-Mar, when she claims to be his Princess? Few warriors have even seen you from a distance, my Lady. They wouldn't recognize you." "But they will come looking for me! They know by now I've been kidnapped. My father will send his whole army after me!" "I question that. He doesn't know you have escaped. I'm sure he will make some attempt to get you back, but most of his efforts will be aimed at the house of Ognadzu." Bronwynn looked at him. "You mean he won't send soldiers after me?" "He doesn't know you're here. How can he?" "Well-where does he think I am then?" "Surely he believes by this time you are being held captive at Flayh's mansion in Lamath. That's where we were headed, you know. He will probably attempt to work through the house of Uda to get you back, by force, or ransom, or-some way." "But I'm not there! They'll tell him, won't they?" "Why should they? And have all Ognadzu family members in Chaomonous slaughtered in retribution?" "That is what my father would do." Bronwynn sat in the grass and tried to reason what course of action she should take. The sun was dropping behind the western mountains, and a cool breeze shook the leaves above them and caused several apples to drop. "I have it," she announced. "We go to Uda-here, in Ngandib-Mar. They do have a house here, don't they?" "Many of them," Pelman affirmed. "And that would be good think
ing. Except . . ." "Except what?" "Why should you expect Uda to be any more trustworthy than Pezi's house of Ognadzu? Wouldn't it make more sense for the elders of Uda to play one side against the other while perhaps making their own deal for your sale to, say, the ruler of Ngandib?" "This is all too complicated!" Bronwynn moaned.

  "Not yet, my Lady," Pelman said. "No, as yet it is relatively simple. You are free. Things would be far more complex at this point were that not the case. And, while it might not be of great note to you, I, too, am free-for which I am most thankful. And even if it seems frightening to you at the moment that no one else .knows our whereabouts, I am delighted with the situation. I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible." "But where will we go?" the girl pleaded with him, and immediately wished she had said nothing. Bronwynn had heard herself speak, and felt she had sounded like a frightened child. That was not at all the way the Princess, daughter of Talith, should sound.

  But Pelman was kind, and he smiled a genuine, cheery smile. "Away," he answered again. Seeing the fear and concern dance across the girl's face, he went on to add, "I am not without friends in this foreign land, my Lady. In fact, it isn't foreign to me." "You mean you've been here before? But you're not a merchant, how could you-" "The merchants and the raiders are not the only ones who travel the world. In my profession, you either have to change your act regularly or else change your location. I find it much easier to change location." "Then you've performed here before?" she asked, truly interested in him now as this new revelation sank in.

  Once again he smiled, but more to himself this time than at her. Yes, he had "performed" here before. But not as Bronwynn conceived it. He stood. "We need something more than green apples to sustain us, I think. I find it hard to believe that Pezi would travel anywhere without a good healthy provision of food in his storage bags. I'll check." Pelman walked to the saddle which sat now in the grass, and began to go through the sacks attached to it.

  Bronwynn wandered toward the west, listening to the wind rock the branches. The sky turned pink behind the mountains as the sun dropped swiftly behind them, and once again she was stabbed by the strange desire to be there, on one of those distant peaks, visible only in outline now.

  "Will we be going there?" she asked, hiding her hope behind an air of nonchalance. Pelman glanced up to see which way she was looking, then smiled to himself as he gathered up the food he'd found and walked toward her.

  "The mountains have witched you," he murmured as he came up behind her.

  "No they haven't, what do you mean?" she said, but her protests were dreamy and vague, for her mind was far away.

  "Yes they have." He sighed. "And you know what I mean." She didn't look at him, so he continued, looking now himself on the valley darkening below them and the outline of those far cliffs against the sunset. "Don't be too surprised, Bronwynn, at anything you see in Ngandib-Mar. It is a land of magic and witches, and powers ride on the winds, available for use by whomever can control them." She said nothing, but watched. He looked at her-her face was a golden-pink in the rays of the waning sun-and he could not bring himself to break that spell of wonder just yet. Instead he spoke quietly, soothingly. "Yes, we'll go there, my Lady. I have a friend who holds some lands on the far side of those hills. His keep will be open to us, as well as his heart. You may even find reason to remain there. You could do worse. Much worse," he muttered to himself, then he turned his back on the valley and sat in the grass. In a few moments the daylight was gone, and Bronwynn turned wistfully away.

  The meadow was dark now, its mood of warm invitation having passed with the sunlight. "We're not staying here tonight, are we?" she asked in a voice tinged with fear.

  "Amazing," Pelman said to himself. "What a difference a little light can make. No, Bronwynn, we won't be staying here or anywhere else tonight. We've a long way to go, and before long merchant riders will be trailing us. You'll need all the strength you can muster. So eat, and thank Pezi for planning such a hog's feast. We have enough food here for forty-plenty to get us to the castle of Dorlyth without having to stop." Bronwynn knelt in the grass beside him, and they ate in silence. As she chewed, she thought over his words regarding the powers on the winds. The people of Chaomonous laughed at such stories, and called them superstitions. Yet as Bronwynn watched the night bleed darkly through the meadow, she felt sure that a gay, bright power had left, and that a darker, sinister power had taken its place. She moved self-consciously closer to Pelman, trying to gain strength and comfort from being near him. Pelman, aware, ate leisurely. There would be plenty of time to rush, to act. Now it was time to ponder-and to plan well.

  In the pitch blackness above the pass there was a mighty rush of massive reptilian wings thrashing the air, ' then the quiet plop of dragon feet touching softly down into the dusty ground. Vicia-Heinox had come home. Though no man had ever been fool enough to attempt the pass at night, the dragon made double sure he was alone. He did not rely solely on his keen sense of hearing, but vindictively shot great jets of heat in every direction, searing out any trace of greenery that might have taken root between the rocks. Though hardly in harmony, the two heads had concluded that the safety of each depended on some measure of cooperation. Having thoroughly torched the area, they turned back to the business of settling this insane dispute.

  Vicia reared back and screamed at the brilliant stars in keen frustration. Heinox growled at him: "Do I have to do that?" Heinox shook himself to clear his ears.

  "Something must be done," Vicia snarled.

  "About what?" "I was talking to myself," Vicia muttered.

  "I am myself," Heinox reminded Vicia, and Vicia lay down in the dirt and moaned.

  "I must do something to make it clear when I mean I, and when I mean I. Ahhh!" Vicia groaned, "it's no use." "Something must be done," Heinox agreed.

  "I said that already." "I know." Heinox, too, lay down on the ground. "This is why I ought to learn to count," Heinox sighed.

  "Why?" "So I could know which I was speaking." "Why would that help?" "I could number my heads. I could be one number, and I could be another number." Excited, Vicia popped up into the sky. "That's it! I could be one number, and I could be another number!" "Do I think it's a good idea?" Heinox asked, his own excitement growing.

  "I think it's a wonderful idea!" "Very well, I'll do it!" Heinox shouted. "The next caravan that passes, I'll force the captain to teach me how to count, and then I'll number me! I'll be one number, and I'll be the other number!" The two heads looked at each other, rejoicing, one might even say smiling if dragons could smile. But as they looked one another in the eye it dawned on them that they really hadn't settled anything at all. Both heads sank once again into the dust, exhausted by the day-long struggle.

  "Heinox," said Vicia, "how am I ever going to be able to know which head is which?" "I don't know, Vicia," Heinox answered in despair. "I don't know."

  Chapter Two

  PEZI BOUNCED from side to side, struggling to hold his seat as the little mare under him trotted up the cobblestones. He felt like a pullybone, being cut apart by the thinness of his horse and the weight of his own belly. Nor was he at all happy about the news he was about to deliver. He had already instructed his assistant to listen very closely to the details of the story as he presented them to his uncle. This the young merchant was only too happy to do, since he had missed most of the action in his unconscious state, and didn't want his fainting spells to become public knowledge. The young fellow if speaking to a child. The change in tone so frightened the fat merchant that he trembled visibly.

  "How did it happen, Pezi?" "I ... it was . . . the dragon, sir, he-" "What about the dragon, Pezi? Come now, relax. Stand up like a man, and tell me what happened." Flayh reached down to help Pezi up. His manner was kindly, but that only shook Pezi more. Had Pezi's knees not been padded with such a thick layer of flesh, they surely would have knocked together audibly.

  "The dragon, he-he went crazy, he-" "What?" "He went crazy! Insane! I've never seen
him so disturbed!" "Start at the beginning." "Well of course, it was an unusual caravan in the first place. Too early, he said. That roused his suspicions. Then, too, a troop of Chaons was chasing us into Dragonsgate just as we were reaching the pass! The dragon went down to frighten them off. I'm sure that made him more suspicious. He wanted to see my cargo. Of course I couldn't hide her, carrying her in the royal litter as we were, so-" "You transported her in the royal litter?" Flayh interrupted.

  "Of course-well, she wouldn't walk-" "So you advertised her importance by carrying her in. a golden litter!" Flayh roared.

  "I-I thought it would be worth something-" Flayh stared at him. "It's outside if you want to see it-" "Oh, is it?" Flayh smiled; then the smile decayed into a sneer. "And why should I want to see an empty royal litter of the house of Talith, hmmm?" "Ah ... it's ... ah, pretty-" Pezi stammered. Then he gulped.

  Flayh sighed. "All right," he said. "Leaving aside the fact that we possess illegally one of Talith's carved transport litters which is of absolutely no value to anyone now-leaving aside the fact that you advertised to that Chaon contingent exactly whom you were carrying away to Lamath-leaving all that aside, Pezi-go on." Pezi scratched his head, then clasped his hammy hands together and struggled hard to get his story straight in his head once more. Then taking a large breath, he began again. "I-I refused to let him see my cargo, so he threatened me. I mean, there he was, one head in front of me, one head in back of me, neither of them more than a foot from my body!" "Get on!" Flayh roared.