"Give them plenty of room," a self-appointed crowd manager was yelling as he pushed groups of seated peasants into an ever-widening circle. "There'll be wonders and signs aplenty when these two meet, and we'll all want to be able to see." Grudgingly people responded, outwardly complaining but inwardly glad that someone had assumed the responsibility. Behind the crowds petty merchants had set up tables, and now displayed their wares. Everywhere there were groups of young boys, and so quickly did these gangs run from one place to the other that there seemed to be twice as many groups as there actually were. In the absence of professional jugglers and acrobats, amateurs entertained the crowds. This was a spontaneous carnival, all realized, and since such events were rare, everyone made the most •of the occasion.
"What is g-g-going on?" Rosha asked as they rode within sight of the growing throng.
"Looks like a fair," Bronwynn said matter-of-factly. "Can we ride around it?" Pelman felt an irresponsible quickening in his pulse rate, and fought to calm it. He was, after all, a player- or had been-and the excitement and noise of the crowd re-awoke strange impulses within him. "We would disappoint them greatly, Bronwynn. From the looks on these faces, I believe we are the main act-or half of it." He referred to a group of boys who hid in the bushes beside the. road. As the three riders passed, they would bolt from their cover and sprint ahead to hide in still more bushes farther along the way. Finally one ran all the way to the crowd, and from the sudden roar of approval Pelman knew his arrival had been announced. "Shall we wait until the Priestess arrives before we enter the arena?" he asked mockingly. Bronwynn gave him a puzzled look, and they rode on.
A chill shook Pelman a few moments later, when there was another great shout from the crowd and he realized that it was not for him but for Serphimera. His stomach began to knot up with tension. Try as he might, he could not stifle the self-doubt that sprang unbidden to his mind. He glanced over at Bronwynn and drew some reassurance from the expression on her face. She did not question that she rode beside the Prophet foretold in the days of the breaking of the one land. Bronwynn had no doubts at all.
But surely even she was affected by the sight of that surging flood of blue-gowned humanity that quickly filled up the hard-won space in the center of the giant circle. This army of believers had accompanied their Priestess, and they proudly took their places in front of the local peasants. As Pelman dismounted from his horse and walked across the opening toward the lady, the air was filled with complaints and curses and the sounds of petty scuffles. There was such confusion that most of the assembled crowd missed the first few ex7 he Prophet of La-math 235 changes between the Prophet who had split the wind, and the Priestess who had captivated even the King.
Bronwynn and Rosha flanked Pelman as he walked forward, Rosha watching the crowd of blue-robed figures menacingly, Bronwynn focusing intently on Serphimera and mentally listing all the flaws she could find in the woman's storied beauty.-There were not many. This fact made Bronwynn frown.
Serphimera waited demurely for Pelman to reach her, then her lips parted in a coy smile. "I have heard much of you. Prophet." "And I of you, my Lady," Pelman replied quietly.
"I am the Priestess Serphimera," she announced, her voice loud enough to signal that she wanted silence from the crowd. The people settled down to listen.
"So I have been told," Pelman said, again quietly. His voice had long been trained to project to all parts of a vast theater. But he didn't use that booming voice now, for he had chosen not to play to the crowd. This lady he faced attracted him, and he sought behind her sparkling eyes for the woman at the heart of the Priestess. Perhaps*she had come to speak to the crowds. Pelman was determined to speak with her alone.
"They tell me you do mighty wonders." She smiled, arching an eyebrow in inquiry. "Is that true?" "The Power works," Pelman muttered. "Not I." "I do no such signs," she proclaimed, walking away from him and then turning back to look. She had widened the space between them to force him to raise his voice. "However, I am frequently credited with miracles. It seems the Lord Dragon has richly blessed Lamath in these days." She gazed at him, hungry to hear his reaction.
Pelman closed the gap between them again, a move she had not expected. "It is not the doings of the dragon, my Lady," he murmured. "It is the blessing of the Power." Serphimera laughed nervously, sharply, and stepped away again. "What power do you speak of? There is no power save that which issues from the Lord Dragon!" "It is the Power that empowers me, my lady," Pelman responded, again closing the space between them.
Then he whispered with intensity, "There is nothing to this worship of the dragon. You need to understand that." Serphimera's mouth fell open in shock; then she screamed in her loudest voice, "I have a word on you! The Lord Dragon has told me you are against him! I hear now from you that it is true!" The crowd responded with gasps of surprise, and Pelman was forced finally to play to them.
"When have you spoken with the dragon?" he demanded loudly.
"I have never spoken with the Lord Dragon. It is always he who speaks through me!" "I have spoken with the dragon, face to face!" Pelman added another "to face" in his mind, remembering that strange conversation as he gave the crowd time to react. "And I have news that all Lamath needs to hear." The crowd responded with silence. Pelman took a deep breath. "The dragon is divided!" Scarcely could a more inflammatory phrase be uttered in Lamath. The crowd was of mixed conviction; sprinkled through it was a liberal quantity of Divisionists. These now leapt to their feet crying, "Yes!" Pelman's sentence was a watchword of their faith. Divisionists believed that while it was obvious that the Lord Dragon was only one, he needed to be viewed as being of a double personality, one good and one bad. This explained the presence of evil in the world without slipping into heresies of dualism.
"No!" cried out the orthodox Coalescents in the assembly, who believed the dragon could not be viewed as either one or two but had to be viewed as a coalescence of both one and two. Thus the universe was held in tension. These were far in the majority, and the meeting would swiftly have resulted in a hundred different fistfights had not Pelman summoned all the reserves in that powerfully trained voice and bellowed, "Sit down!" The words came like a thunderclap-so loud in fact that Pelman was even a bit surprised himself. He glanced over at Serphimera. The woman's face was purple with rage. She was speechless at this heresy.
There was no turning back now, Pelman reasoned.
He would add to his heresy a heavy helping of blasphemy. "When I say the dragon is divided I say not that the Lord is in two parts. I say that the dragon is in two parts, and" that he battles with himself! And I say that the dragon is not the Lord!" He had violated the basic tenet of the Dragonfaith. Theologically, Pelman had cut his own throat. The cries and curses and shouts that greeted his declaration gave warning that there were many in the crowd who would be pleased to slit his windpipe physically, as well.
"Let me save the Lord this trouble!" one burly, blue-robed figure shouted as he leapt forward, arms outstretched to grab Pelman by the throat and throttle him where he stood. But the cultist was met in midair by Rosha. As the man hit the ground, Rosha was jerking up his own blue gown and pulling out his blade.
"Hold!" he shouted, sword ready to thrust toward any quarter. Would-be attackers jumped back, and Rosha pointed the tip at the burly man's face and stammered, "P-p-perhaps you had b-best g-get back." The man looked up into the young man's face, confused and emboldened by the stutter. But there was no mistaking the intent of the youth's eyes. The fellow scooped his robes up around his knees and slipped back into the crowd.
"Yes, hold!" Serphimera cried, sweeping one arm dramatically over her head and drawing all eyes again to her. "For I have had a vision of this Prophet. I know his end!" The crowd gave a great roar of approval, and then settled back to listen to the Priestess pronounce doom upon this charlatan. Pelman turned to gaze at the woman, whose eyes now were as hard as emerald gemstones and just as shockingly green.
"I have seen you, Pro
phet!" she cried. "And I know your death! In a vision, in a dream, the Lord Dragon revealed to me the act to seal your life. You will battle him, and you will fail, and you who scorn the Lord and profane that robe you wear, you he will tear in twain!" Pelman felt dazed. The roaring of the crowd around him, so common and so manageable when he was but a player, now robbed him of his senses and very nearly from one of my chief generals!" Talith snapped. "Get to the front and send Joss back to me." Rolan-Keshi jabbed his heels angrily into his horse's flanks, and started up the hill. Talith turned to Tahli-Damen. "And what do you want, merchant?" "My Lord, the dragon will not wait all day-" "Why won't he? He has waited thus far." "Yes, he has, my Lord, but-" "I am the King, Tahli-Damen. Kings do not cater to the time schedules of anyone save themselves." "But, my Lord-" "I have tolerated your unsought advice ever since we left the palace, merchant, but I have grown tired of your insistence that you are the only one who knows how to deal with this dragon. Now, I will treat with Vicia-Heinox-through you, of course-whenever I deem it-" Talith's eyes caught sight of something beyond Tahli-Damen's shoulders, and his words froze on his lips. The young merchant understood immediately, even before he heard the leathery flapping above him. Instinctively he ducked, and fell off his horse in the process.
King Talith was greeted by the sight of one dragon head staring in at him from the left-hand side of the litter, and another peering at him from the right. He finally found his voice. "Tahli-Damen?" he asked quietly. "Tahli-Damen, would you please come talk to this dragon?" The two heads moved in for a closer look, and Talith scooted down, attempting to hide under the cushions. "Tahli-Damen? Are you down there?" he called, peeking over the edge of the litter.
"So this is the mighty King of Chaomonous," Vicia snorted.
"I believe so," Heinox replied uncertainly. Then addressing Talith, he asked, "You are the King, aren't you?" Talith gulped. "Yes," he squeaked.
"Yes, he is," Heinox told Vicia.
Vicia moved in even closer, and murmured, "Well, you may tell your precious King that if he marches one step closer to Lamath, I will swallow him alive!" Talith suddenly had a very existential appreciation for all of those tales of terror related to him by men who had spoken with the dragon. He trembled.
"You mustn't believe him," Heinox said matter-of-factly.
"I-you-I-ah-I mustn't?" Talith stammered.
"You mustn't," Heinox replied patiently. In all his dealings with human Kings the dragon had never been too impressed. Heinox had not been expecting much from this King, and Talith certainly didn't disappoint him. "You see," Heinox continued pleasantly, "he may threaten a great deal, but he can't really do anything to you unless I let him." "Really?" Talith said eagerly. He was still nervous, of course, but this was encouraging news.
"Not exactly so," Vicia corrected. "It's true that I can't do anything to your army unless my other head participates. But I could very easily swallow you, before he could stop me." Talith gazed up at the giant head in horror.
"Yes, that's true," Heinox admitted. "But he won't. He knows that then I would do something to his King." "You surely wouldn't eat him, would you, Heinox?" Vicia mocked. "After all, he wouldn't be shaking and trembling before you." "All Kings shake and tremble before me!" Heinox roared back. Then he swiveled to explain to Talith, who was shaking and trembling. "He seems to think his King would be more courageous than you." "His King?" Talith murmured in confusion.
"For some reason he favors the King of Lamath," Heinox explained.
"The King of Lamath worships me," Vicia growled. "All of Lamath worships me. Does Chaomonous do as much?" Vicia almost came inside the litter, and Talith scooted as far from him as he could without falling off the edge.
"I could . . . make a decree . . ." Talith began.
"Do that, and I'll eat you," Heinox snorted, and Talith scooted back to the middle of the carriage.
"What are you doing here?" Vicia snarled. "I have never allowed armies to pass this way!" "But I thought . . ." Talith began.
"He's going to attack Lamath, can't you see that?" Heinox growled at Vicia.
"How did you know-?" the King started to ask.
"Did you somehow send word to this sniveling human that you would try to sneak his army by me?" Vicia demanded.
Heinox snorted. "Of course not. Think I could sneak an army of this size through Dragonsgate? You certainly have a vivid imagination." "Then what is he doing here?" Vicia demanded.
"How should I know?" said Heinox. "I know no more about this than you do. But I can tell you this, I shall make every effort to speed his army on its way!" "You will?" Talith said in pleased surprise.
"Of course. The sooner you conquer his Lamathian army the sooner he's put in his place." "Then my army may advance?" Talith asked hopefully.
"Certainly," Vicia snarled, "and I shall swallow you the moment you give the order." Talith gazed up into those giant lizard eyes. "Oh," he said simply. Then he had an idea. Gesturing toward Heinox, Talith asked Vicia, "Do you think we could talk privately for a moment?" Vicia's answer was a full-throated dragon roar that filled the canyon and echoed down into the valley. It was all the various commanders could do to keep the golden army from bolting home to Chaomonous.
"I see," Talith nodded, voice quavering. "Well then," he asked Heinox, "are there any other possibilities?" "I would think it a fair trade, myself," Heinox offered. "Your life and the lives of a few of your supporters in exchange for the conquest of my enemies." Talith laughed nervously, then choked his laughter down to keep from offending this monster. "Perhaps to you it would seem so, but my life is very important to me." "More important than the conquest of my enemies?" Heinox asked, his head looming large in Talith's limited field of vision. Vicia-Heinox's two heads were so dose by now that Talith could actually see nothing but dragon.
"Tahli-Damen, are you anywhere close by?" the King whispered, smiling nervously at those many teeth.
"Under the litter, my Lord," the young merchant replied honestly.
"What are you doing under there?" Talith asked angrily, the smile remaining fixed in place.
"Hiding," came the truthful reply. . "Do you have any suggestions as to how I can get out of this situation, merchant?" the King ground out between his clenched teeth. "A way," he added, "that doesn't involve my being eaten?" "You might request a little time to think the idea over," the merchant suggested.
"Perhaps you two heads would be kind enough to give me the opportunity to think all this over?" "Certainly," Heinox replied. "You have no objections, do you, Vicia?" "No objections," Vicia replied. "One condition." The King cleared his throat. "And what is that?" "I'm hungry," the dragon replied, and the King nodded. He had expected that.
They haggled for another half-hour, then one squad toward the rear of the long golden column received word they were needed at the front. The King thanked each man personally, and promised each that his widow would receive a posthumous decoration.
By nightfall, the army of Chaomonous was encamped at the southern mouth of Dragonsgate. Talith threw many goblets and chairs in frustration that night, but those who knew him best considered him to be in quite good spirits. He had, at least, survived.
Few words passed between them as they rode to the monastery. Rosha battled to contain his frustration. Why did Pelman not use his powers to prove to that dark-haired witch lady that he spoke the truth? Pelman had gained nothing in the exchange. Rosha knew little of Lamathian religious politics, but that much seemed clear even to a novice. He said nothing. He was the initiate, not the teacher. But he vowed to stay constantly at Pelman's side. There would be fewer seekers now, but Rosha wagered there would be many more assassins.
In the silent riding, Bronwynn thought of a hundred things she might have said to that raven-tressed phony who called herself Priestess. Some Priestess! The young Princess fantasized about creeping into this Serphimera's dwelling and stealing away her identity. Now if Bronwynn were the Priestess, this dragon cult would make some changes. How could they
worship anything so ridiculous as the dragon, anyhow? She felt no awe of Vicia-Heinox. The giant monster was so foolish she almost felt sorry for him.
Pelman gazed straight ahead, but he was very aware of the thoughts and feelings of these two who rode behind him. They were so young, so in need of a worthy teacher. And Pelman felt so inadequate to the task. He had crammed everything he could into their all-too-short lesson periods. Bronwynn was already reading more swiftly than he could himself, and Rosha had taken to reading as well, once Pelman discovered that it was fear of reading out loud that made the lad balk. That much he had accomplished.
But the changes were taking place too quickly. Open warfare between merchants and landowners in the Mar. Religious revival in Lamath that rivaled any such period in the Dragonfaith's history. Mobilization for war in all the lands, a war planned and pushed by avaricious merchants who wished to rule the world. And a dragon gone crazy. Tired as they all were, Pelman resolved to take his two charges below the library tonight and continue with the lessons. The leisurely ride through the Great North Fir seemed dreamlike to him now as he considered the hard realities of his task here in Lamath. There was no more time for leisure. Only time for work.
The Prophet Of Lamath Page 25