"Why did you come here, my Lady?" he asked.
"When I heard Asher had put you in that cage, I had to come," Serphimera answered quietly.
"Oh? I understood from the General that it was you who asked that I be imprisoned." "Imprisoned yes, but not caged! It is for your own good," she continued defensively, "and for the good of the people of Lamath. You cannot be allowed to roam the land, attracting weak believers to your heresies." "Yet you roam the land, my Lady." "I share the truth of Lord Dragon! Yours is a message of lies!" "So you have said. Did you come to this dungeon to argue with me, my Lady?" Serphimera turned her back on him and walked toward the door. She did not wish these others to hear their conversation. When she spoke again, it was almost in a-whisper. "I have come to offer you freedom." "What kind of freedom?" "Freedom from this place, of course . . . and freedom from death." "On the condition that I follow you?" Serphimera looked back at him. "I know well enough you could not follow me now. In these short weeks you have built your own following, and many remain stubbornly loyal to you in the face of all reason. No, I don't ask you to follow me. I only ask you to leave off your Divisionist heresies and serve the Dragon." "Your devotion is impressive, Serphimera. But I have met your dragon, and he is no god. Please don't cover your ears!" He pulled her hands from her head to hold them in his own, and stooped down to gaze into her face. "Look at me, Serphimera-please." She had clenched her eyelids tightly against his words. Now they nickered open, and he saw great sadness in her eyes.
"Asher gave the order to the keeper of the tugoliths four days ago," she whispered. "The beasts are already prepared to draw you." "I understand that." "If you are a Prophet, you know the traditions. Five days from the giving of the order, the tugoliths draw. You will be between them tomorrow, unless you recant." Pelman thought a moment. "But Serphimera, what of your vision?" The Priestess dropped her eyes and tried to pull away, but he held her. "Did you not see me torn between the mouths of the dragon?" "It was a dark vision . . ." she murmured, struggling weakly.
"Yet you said it was I! You spoke so certainly of my doom!" "The man in my dream wore a robe of sky blue- Divisionist blue, like this robe you wear!" Pelman released her. "Few Divisionist monasteries still exist, so effective has been your teaching." He shook his head and paced away from her. "Most monks are midnight-clad, as you are. If the man in your vision was noon-clad, I've no doubt you dreamed of me." "Draw no comfort from my vision, false one," Serphimera said. "It will not save you between the blocks!" "Who can alter visions, Serphimera? Am I to believe that you are able?" , "It was a dark vision, I told you!" "Who else but I would be clothed so?" "Your initiates are two!" Serphimera snapped, and she gestured to the young couple lying in the straw.
"Rosha, Bronwynn-when I gave you those robes I told you the time would come soon to lay them aside. It has come." "G-good," Rosha announced, and he jumped up from the floor and began stripping the garment over his head. Bronwynn now saw by torchlight that he had been clothed in tunic and mail shirt all along.
"No wonder you've been complaining about being hot!" she said.
"C-could n-never tell when t-t-trouble might come." "That's all very well for him," Bronwynn told Pelman, "but I don't have anything on under this!" Pelman smiled. "I imagine you are safe enough here, Bronwynn. But we've been discovered now. There's no longer any sense in hiding your womanhood." "You seek to force the vision to apply only to yourself and thus insure your safety between the blocks," Serphimera spat out. "But if you were a true Prophet you would know that every vision is open to many interpretations. There are those who say the tugoliths are related to the dragon. Could they not fulfill the prophecy in drawing you?" Pelman gave Serphimera a slight grin. "Tugoliths related to Lord Dragon? Now that sounds like heresy to me!" "Oh, stop this!" the Priestess shouted, and Pelman's smile departed. "Will you waste your last few hours of life in sophistry?" "My Lady," Pelman replied softly, "it isn't sophistry. A Priestess of the dragon has pronounced my doom upon me. How can I but watch the horizon of the future for its coming?" Serphimera sighed. "Then you will not recant?" "I cannot, my Lady. If I have seen the truth, can I deny it? When you have seen a vision, can you call it a lie?" Serphimera looked at the guard, and inclined her head to the door. He held it open for her, and she stooped to go out. There she stopped and looked back in at Pelman. "You are a fool, Prophet." Then the door slammed shut, and they were in darkness once more.
Erri kept his mouth closed as long as he could, but finally could hold his tongue no longer. "You kick away a chance to be free just because you and the lady don't see things alike. Is that entirely necessary?" "How should I know what's necessary?" Pelman growled back, and the others heard him drop heavily onto a pile of straw beside the door. He would speak no more until dawn.
* * *
While conquering the northern lands centuries before, the armies of Lamath had discovered the great beast of burden they came to call the tugolith. It was a monstrous animal standing about fifteen feet to the shoulder, with an enormous horn protruding from the middle of its forehead and a hide as thick as dragon scales. Its skin and its size led those early Lamathians to assume the tugolith was a distant relative of the dragon. There was even a rumor that certain of the soldiers who discovered the creature attempted to worship it, but the army and the Dragonfaith kept that very quiet, for it was quickly seen that the tugolith was not terribly bright. Even the smartest of the beasts never accumulated a vocabulary much beyond that of a four-year-old. Certainly an animal so dull could not be related to the Lord Dragon! Lamath needed a wall in the far north to hold off the attacks of barbarians, and soon the army put these beasts to work hauling the stoneworks into place. They proved so capable that a large herd of tugoliths was driven south to help in the building of the capital. There the concept of drawing was hit upon quite by accident, when an unfortunate handler gave an imprecise command and his two animals pulled apart rather than pulling together. Before many years passed, drawing by a pair of tugoliths became the chief form of capital punishment. It was considered especially appropriate for heresy.
But that had been long ago. The sects of the Dragonfaith had grown so numerous and so varied that heresy was impossible to define. Then, too, quicker and less expensive forms of execution had gained in popularity. Few people expected ever to see a heretic drawn, though there were many who argued about the necessity of keeping the drawing blocks. The announcement of the drawing of the false Prophet came as a shock to the entire nation, and a large number of rural peasants brought their children to Lamath to witness this rare event. The dungeon's occupants began hearing the crowd at daybreak, and the noise level gradually swelled through the morning.
Erri sat glumly in one corner, facing the wall. Rosha, too, kept to himself. He had never laid much stock in any visions of any kind, but he did know something of the laws of nature. If two monstrous animals were to pull Pelman apart, the Prophet would be killed. That much was evident. What was not so obvious was what one could say to a man condemed to such a death. Instead of talking, Rosha played with handfuls of straw, and daydreamed of the snow caps on the mountains of Ngandib-Mar.
But Bronwynn was a believer. If Pelman did not think he would die between the blocks, she didn't think so either. Something did concern her, however. She scooted over next to Pelman. "What do you think of the Priestess? You've never really told us." "Why do you ask me that?" "I just want to know what you think. I would like very much to hate her-but I get the feeling you don't." "No, I don't hate Serphimera." "I don't see why not!" Bronwynn snapped. "She's trying to kill you!" "No, she tried to save me. Remember? Serphimera is a very beautiful woman who thinks she knows something-but really doesn't." "Then what do you think of her?" Bronwynn persisted.
Pelman smiled. "Isn't that enough?" The girl studied his face. "I don't think so," she said seriously. "Things passed between you two last night that had nothing to do with words." "Who gave you permission to listen?" "And I want to know this: do you love her?" Pelman cackled. "W
hat a thing to ask a condemned man!" "Well, do you?" Pelman took Bronwynn's hand and rubbed it affectionately. "You've been too long in your father's court, Lady Bronwynn. Like him, you mistake attraction for love." "Isn't that what it is?" "No. Love is much more than that. I'm a little surprised that you haven't discovered that already." "But you do feel that for her?" "Feel what?" "Attraction." Pelman grinned. "Yes. What difference does it make?" Bronwynn blinked a couple of times, and shrugged her shoulders. "Some," she said. "It matters some." Then she stood up, and drifted away.
Soon after, they all heard the tramping of guards in the hallway. Then the door flew open, and the warder and his personal staff filled the cell. "On your feet, Prophet. It's time to go." Pelman stood slowly, then looked around at his three friends. Rosha glided to his feet and came toward him. The Prophet noticed the lad had donned his robe again to protect the mail shirt from theft by the guards. Rosha hugged him forcefully, then stepped back to look Pelman in the face. "D-do you want us to d-do anything?" "You still have the book?" Pelman asked. Rosha nodded. "Then keep reading it. Keep telling these people the truth." "Come on, the tugoliths are driving their master mad! We don't have all day." "Very well. Erri?" The little sailor hopped to his feet and took the hand Pelman offered.
"Oh, yes," said the warder, looking at Erri. "You're to go with us too. The Seachief has cleared you of all complicity with the heretics, and you're free to go." Erri raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. He muttered a quick good-bye to the two young people, then climbed out of the cell into the hall.
"Bronwynn?" Pelman asked, opening his arms to the girl, but she wouldn't come. She stood on the far side of the cell and gave him an awkward wave.
"See you," she murmured softly.
He waved back. Then he, too, climbed into the passageway. The warder followed him out, and the door clanged shut again. Once more, the young couple was alone.
"Was that any way t-to say g-good-bye?" Rosha growled.
"I wasn't saying good-bye," Bronwynn snapped back. Then she turned away from him. "Besides," she said. "He's in love with Serphimera."
Chapter Thirteen
THUGANLITHA AND CHIMOLITHA were the two tugoliths who had been chosen to draw the false Prophet. Just now they were aggravating their handler to the limit of his patience. The creatures possessed only a four-year-old intelligence, it was true, but they had all the curiosity of a four-year-old as well. They were also very forgetful, and tended to ask the same question over and over again.
"Why am I here, Dolna?" Thuganlitha asked his keeper for the thirtieth time that morning.
Dolna screamed back his answer. "Because I brought you here!" "Why?" "So you can draw this Prophet, whoever he is!" "Who is he?" Chimolitha butted in.
"What's a Prophet?" Thuganlitha asked.
"Please," begged Dolna, "one question at a time?" "Me first!" "No, me!" "I'll horn you!" "I'll horn you first!" "Quiet!" Dolna shouted, and the two monstrous beasts obeyed. So did a large portion of the crowd closest to the platform, and they craned their necks to see who had yelled, and if the program were beginning. They saw no change in the personnel on the dais, so 290 The prophet of Lamath each returned to his own private conversation. Dolna sighed, and leaned against one of the blocks.
"I wouldn't have them myself," said the King's headsman, who also stood on the platform.
"Oh, they're not so bad," Dolna explained through a drawn smile. "When they're working, they say very little. It's this waiting around that makes them nervous." "Dolna, this waiting around makes me nervous!" Thuganlitha said, and Dolna ran around to yell in the beast's face.
"I've told you before not to copy what I say! Now be quiet!" "Dolna, why am I here?" Chimolitha called, and Dolna tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Yes, Chimolitha. I know you need attention too. Just be quiet and I'll come around there to you." Now Dolna looked back up into Thuganlitha's gigantic face and threatened, "If you don't keep quiet, I'm going to do something very terrible to you when we get back to the pens!" "What?" the tugolith demanded petulantly. "Use your imagination!" Dolna replied fiercely.
Then he stalked around the blocks to pat Chimolitha on the beasts giant chest. "Please be quiet, won't you?" The animal regarded him balefully, then nodded. Dolna staggered back to his place beside the headsman, and slumped down to sit on the edge of the old stone platform.
"Never have any trouble with my blades," the headsman murmured. Dolna made a face, but took pains that the larger man did not see it. "Have to sharpen them is all," the headsman continued. "No, my problem is with reprieves." "Reprieves?" "That's what I said. Terrible problem for a headsman. These government officials, they never can make up their minds. First they want to kill a lad, then they don't, then they do, then they don't again. I'd say three quarters of my trips to the block I never get a chance to swing my blade." "What's a blade?" Thuganlitha asked.
"Are you using your imagination?" Dolna yelled back. There was silence from the giant animal, and Dolna smiled. "Go on," he nodded to the headsman.
"Gives me a queer feeling, talking to a monster," observed the headsman, and Dolna sprang to his feet trying to hush him.
"Don't say that!" he whispered. "These animals are very sensitive!" He straightened up and listened a moment, then nodded in relief as he called out, "Still using your imagination?" "Yes," Thuganlitha said. His tone was surly. "Dolna, I don't like that man." Dolna's relieved smile faded, and he rushed around to whisper in the animal's ear. The startled headsman used the time to plot his quickest route of escape from the platform. Soon Dolna appeared beside him again.
"It's all right," the handler said, patting the headsman's shoulder. "He promised he wouldn't horn you unless you called him a monster again. Thuganlitha is very sensitive to such remarks." Dolna dropped his voice to a whisper. "And his hearing is excellent." The headsman nodded, and tugged his hood down nervously. "You were speaking of reprieves?" The headsman cleared his throat. "Ah, yes," he said, feeling he had just been reprieved himself. "These chieftains and priests-they can never make up their minds. They've no respect for my trade. They use me, you see, to bend men to their wishes. Never give a thought to my sense of fulfillment as a person! I can never be sure when I sharpen my blades if I'll get the chance to swing them or not. What kind of life is that, now? They pay me to look ferocious in my mask, you might say. But a headsman can't get no fulfillment out of posturing, can he?" Dolna smiled politely. "I suppose not." "But they don't care," the headsman snorted. "If my covered head and eye slits can scare a man into serving them, they let him off!" "There's little chance of that today," Dolna said, watching the crowd. It continued to swell. The city square was filled with people jammed tightly together, and every apartment house or small mansion that fronted onto the square had its windows full of spectators.
"No, not today," the headsman grunted. "The order was given by the Chieftain of Defense, and how can he reprieve the lad when he's off for the wars?" The headsman's grin was clearly visible below the nether edge of his dark hood. "Pity, though, that I didn't get the job. I could do it clean, and never involve you and your beasties here. Ah, they don't mind being called beasties, do they?" "They've never said," Dolna shrugged.
"Dolna, I don't like that man," Thuganlitha rumbled, and the headsman hopped to his feet.
"I meant nothing unkind, nothing unkind-" "Dolna, may I horn him?" "No, Thuganlitha, you may not! I have you harnessed where you are for a specific purpose and I don't want you ruining all my work just to horn someone!" "How can I keep from offending these animals?" the headsman pleaded, and Dolna smiled.
"Try not saying anything." The headsman nodded, and closed his mouth. "Why am I here, Dolna?" "We're waiting for the High Priest, Thuganlitha. Just be patient." "Dolna?" "Yes, Chimolitha." He sighed. "What is it?" "What's be patient?" "I don't want to go out there!" "But, my Lord, you must!" said an advisor.
"It is the tradition," said another.
"I do
n't care!" Naquin protested. "That man is a sorcerer! I may be-struck with lightning!" "There's not a storm in sight, my-" "-swallowed by an earthquake!" "I assure you, my Lord, you are perfectly safe-" "I'll wager that's just what the Chaons thought before this magician sank their fleet!" "My Lord, please stand still-" Naquin paced throughout the temple, his hands clasped behind him. His advisors chased him between the mighty pillars, attempting to surround him or to block his path, but he had been eluding many of these same advisors since he was but six years old. He had been raised inside this edifice. There was no comer of its vast acreage that was unknown to him. Still his advisors scurried after him, attempting to place the Hood of Office on his head, as if to do so would render him immobile.
"Take that thing away! I said I'm not going out there!" "But the High Priest must show himself, or the execution won't be carried out!" The advisor was exasperated with this young man. Had his father been this much trouble to his advisors when he was newly come under the Hood? "The High Priest must show himself?" Naquin asked.
"So I've been saying all morning long," sighed the advisor.
"Very well then, the High Priest shall be seen. Pezi! Pezi! Where is he?" "Have you tried the kitchen, my Lord?" "Good thought." Naquin darted to the kitchen door and slung it open. "Pezi? Pezi, I need you!" Soon the merchant stood beside him. "Will this take very long? I left a plate of ribs-" "Are you ready to watch this Pelman be drawn?" "Certainly, my Lord, just as soon as I finish my-" "Put the hood on him," Naquin ordered.
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