Gaal the Conqueror

by John White

  "I don't know. I suppose so. I hate the thought of the skeletons being in the water, but it's clear water, so it must be clean. Anyway, the river keeps washing through it." But her tone, like John's, was doubtful, and her face looked worried. John's thirst drove judgment away. He knelt down and cupped his hands, slipping them into the cool water. The sun shone hot on his shoulders and his throat was parched.

  "I'll just taste it first, to see if it's all right." He raised his dripping hands to his lips.

  Eleanor screamed, "No!" striking his cupped hands and dashing them from his lips. Her eyes were wide with terror. "They all died because of the water! It's the water! It must be poisoned!" John rose to face her, trembling. "Don't you see?" she said. "They died quickly. No one had time to get away." She paused and John's pale face attested to his fear.

  Eleanor continued, "Come to think of it, it may explain the desert. Why was there no vegetation along it? Because the river flowing south is a sort of river of death flowing out from this pool and killing everything in its path. Just think-if it hadn't been for the earthquake, and the river being muddy, we'd have drunk the water already and be dead now!"

  He turned and stared at the water. He realized the force of her logic, yet with everything in him he still craved it. He wanted to plunge into it, to drink until he was full of it. He groaned and turned away, Eleanor following him with bowed head.

  It took them nearly an hour to go round the pool and ascend the slope to the waterfall on the far side of the valley. They panted and sweated their weary way beside the plunging crystal river, deceptively clear and wholesome looking, invitingly thirstquenching in its appearance. Before long they saw the source of the river. A sort of permanent geyser shot skyward in a vast fountain, issuing from the bowels of the earth, and erupting two-thirds of the way up the long slope.

  Later still they saw above them, some distance below the geyser, that the waterfall plunged into a small pool and that behind the upper part of the waterfall was an enormous wheel, a rapidly spinning wheel that seemed to be made of crystal. It was monumental-towering a hundred feet above them. A marble obelisk stood by the pool at the foot of the falls. Carved on one side of it they read the words:

  They read the words several times, its meaning chilling. The thunder of the falls seemed to make the ground tremble beneath their feet.

  "I guess you saved my life," John shouted at length.

  "Who is Mirshaath?" Eleanor shouted in return.

  "I've no idea. Ponty might know."

  "I'm scared for you-"

  "But don't you see? The Mirshaath creature obviously meant me to die by drinking from the pool-and you stopped me." He paused and shuddered. "You know, I nearly plunged right into it, even after you stopped me."

  "Shagah is behind this," Eleanor said. "I can feel it in the shaking of my bones. I wonder how come Authentio never told us about it?"

  "Yes. That sure is strange. Perhaps this place is like Brigadoon-here once in a hundred years or something."

  "Well, it must have been here before to kill all those people. Perhaps he uses that spell whenever he wants to. The poem says you'll destroy the wheel. How will you do that?"

  "I don't know. I never thought about it. With one of the treasures, I suppose. I guess I could lean out over that ledge half way up the falls and-and do something. But destroying it! It sounds crazy. How could I? Its enormous."

  They discussed which of the magic treasures to try, and finally selected the orb. But they were by no means clear why they did so. For the longest time John stared at the ledge that jutted behind the falls to where the wheel was turning. He saw that he could probably just about touch the wheel with the tip of his fingers if he leaned out beyond the ledge. It looked dangerous. And he was extremely weary and desperately thirsty. Yet the more he stared at the ledge, the more certain he felt that he must climb up to it.

  Wearily he worked his way up to the ledge, taking the orb with him. "Be careful-do be careful," Eleanor shrieked. But John never heard her.

  The thunder of the waterfall numbed his brain. The wheel whirled dangerously fast. Its spokes were like immense whirling teeth waiting to crush and devour him. Strangely, he felt no fear. He turned to look down at Eleanor whose lips were moving, but whose hands gripped the side of her head in terror. But the roar of the water prevented him from hearing her. Slowly he wriggled forward over the wet and slippery ledge until his shoulders extended beyond it. Spray soaked his clothing. A dark abyss behind the fall was filled with the monstrous whirling wheel. Terror and dizziness had him in their grip in an instant. He closed his eyes for several seconds. "I'm all right. I won't fall. An' I won't look down again."

  Nevertheless, his whole body shook as gripping the orb in his right hand he extended it forward as far as he could. He could feel it vibrating in his hand, extending flashes of clear blue light into the darkness of the abyss from its burning jewels. Somehow it steadied him, so that his trembling subsided. But it failed to reach the whirling wheel. He gritted his teeth, conscious of the drop beneath him but determined to focus on the job at hand. Then he wriggled forward until the upper part of his chest was over nothing.

  He almost fell as he extended his hand further and pulled it back sharply, wriggling back a little. In spite of the chill from the spray, sweat mingled with water running down his face. With utmost caution he extended the orb again. Slowly it pulled forward almost out of his control. There was a vivid flash and above the roar of falling water he both heard and felt a loud crack. Instinctively, not knowing why he did so he pulled back, still gripping the orb, scrambled away from the fall and back on to the hillside.

  Then as he turned to look he saw that blue flames had enveloped the wheel and that it had stopped turning. It was being battered mercilessly by the awesome waters. Clouds of spray soon obscured the view, and he scrambled down to where Eleanor was standing. For several minutes giant blue flames continued to shoot through the cloud of spray that covered the falls. Then with a final flash, the spray was gone and the fire swept down to cover the pool of Taavath-Basar below.

  There was a crash behind them that was louder than the thunder of the falls. They turned and saw that the obelisk had fallen and lay shattered in myriad pieces. For two full minutes neither of them spoke, staring alternately at each other and at the falls. Suddenly John's face lit with wonder. "I'm going to drink from the pool and then bathe in it," John shouted.

  "Oh, no! You mustn't." Eleanor's face was white.

  "It's O.K. Don't you see? The spell's broken. The water's pure now. The fire cleaned it out."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "I just am."

  Wearily he stumbled down to the edge of the pool, selecting a point where the water was almost calm. Then as he had done by the larger pool earlier, he knelt and scooped up water in his hands. But this time he drank. He scooped more and drank again. And again. And again. Then cautiously, and without bothering to remove any of his clothing, he put in his legs first standing waist-high in the water.

  "It's freezing!" he cried breathlessly, and plunged his head and shoulders below the surface, to rise gasping and sputtering.

  He glanced up at Eleanor. "Come and drink it!" he cried. "I've never tasted water like it. It's-it's such powerful water! All the ache's gone out of my legs! I feel marvelous!" The skin of his face was glowing and his eyes were shining. "My whole body's tingling and-" he scrambled out of the water, dripping, and twisted round to examine the place where his sandal had rubbed his left heel. "-that big blister's gone!"

  He jumped in the air, a picture of vigor, and then ran to where Eleanor stood uncertainly. He grabbed her arm. "Come on! Try some! It's terrific!"

  She resisted and. shook her head. "Oh, John, I wish you hadn't done that!" She was trembling and weeping from near exhaustion.

  Almost angrily John seized her head between his hands. "Look at me!" he cried. "Can't you see what's happened to me! Look! My blisters are gone. I don't ache anywhere. I'm not tired any
more. I feel full of energy. The spell-or whatever it was has been broken just like the writing said it would be! The water's back to what it was in the past. It must have been some special water the Changer made. And now-oh, come on and try it!"

  Eventually Eleanor did. Her face bore a worried expression as she dipped her hands in the water, but a moment after she had tasted a little of it, the look changed to one of wonder. A few more sips, then another handful, then more and more. Soon she was laughing with merriment and dancing. "It's wonderful!"

  John removed his cloak and spread it out to dry. They lay on their backs letting the sun's heat pour over them, and stared up at the blue sky above, discussing the strange events of the day. By and by they drifted to sleep, and slept for three hours or more. The cool of the evening was on them when they woke, and as they opened their eyes and sat up the scene around them had been transformed.

  "Just look at that!" John said.

  "It's all green!"

  "You can hardly recognize it!"

  While they had slept the valley had been clothed with vegetation. Many of the trees were festive with blossoms. Others bore fully ripe fruit. Wild flowers were scattered everywhere and the air was filled with the scent of flowers and blossom, and the sound of bird song.

  "How could it happen so quickly?"

  "Mebbe we've been asleep for a hundred years!"

  John laughed. "I don't think so. The place was under Mirshaath's spell, and the spell has been broken. "Hey! What happened to the skeletons?" There was no sign of them on the far hillside. But on the crest of the hill opposite, a small knot of people was making its way north.

  "They must all have come to life!" Eleanor said wonderingly.

  "They can't possibly have-"

  "Then where are they? And how do we explain the trees and the grass? They're every bit as impossible as skeletons brought to life."

  "It's incredible. .

  Then, rested and filled with new strength, they set their faces to the southeast, and began to climb out of the valley.

  The forest did not look forbidding. It was beautiful, sunlit and inviting. The trees were neither too tall nor too close together, so sunlight filled open areas around them. The pathway they were to follow wound and twisted before disappearing from view. The forest seemed to be saying, "Hi, there! How are you this morning? Why don't you come in and enjoy me?"

  They had luxuriated the previous night in a Gaal tree, a second one which they had discovered as they had emerged from the Valley of Taavath-Basar. Then on setting out that morning they had encountered no difficulty in following the directions Authentio had given them. Eleanor carried a large linen napkin knotted at the corners, bearing a lunch she had made up for them before setting out. John carried the leather water bottle and the book on his back

  Dew sparkled in the early morning sunlight as they ap proached the wood. "There's something on that trunk-a piece of paper or something," Eleanor said, pointing to a tree.

  It was as she said. A weather-beaten piece of paper bore the words, "To the Sword Bearer and his companion Eleanor: Greetings. I have seen evidences of enchantment in this area. Proceed with special caution. Use the power of the treasures. Authentio."

  John held the paper in fingers that trembled partly with fear and partly with excitement. "I hope he's OX There's danger for him as well as us-and he doesn't have the treasures."

  Cautiously, their eyes darting here and there for any hidden dangers, they began to follow the path slowly. It was too narrow for the two of them to walk side by side in comfort, so John led the way. Weatherworn rocks, mantled with a glowing green moss jutted unevenly along the path, which continued to wind and twist. Tree roots also sent thin knuckled fingers across the path, seeming to say, "Please do not step on us. We have rheumatism."

  A velvet hush and an expectant stillness reigned. The forest seemed to be waiting. But for what? The notes of an occasional bird call fell as liquid droplets into a pool of silence. Automatically John and Eleanor lowered their voices when they spoke.

  "You know, it must have been quiet in the desert when we were there-but I didn't notice it like I do here," John murmured.

  "It's the birds," Eleanor replied. "There weren't any birds in the desert. But their calls sort of remind you how still everything is."

  Beside the path, and in sunlit openings, asters, dandelions and clover seemed to raise their heads in greeting, while lady slippers and tiger lilies lowered their heads modestly.

  "It's not a bit like I expected," John said softly. "I thought an enchanted forest would be-well, sort of sinister. Look at the flowers! They're so nice and not a bit magical or enchanted."

  "I don't know." Eleanor had been examining a tiger lily. "Have you seen the stalks? This one's a sort of purple color."

  "Mebbe it's another variety-"

  "And this . . ." Eleanor held out a dandelion. "See? Its stalk is bright red. I think they're all enchanted."

  John stared with knitted brows at the dandelion. It certainly looked strange, even repulsive now that it had been plucked. He shrugged his shoulders. "Shagah?"

  Eleanor stared at the purple stalk of the tiger lily. "Perhaps these are not real flowers. They're the results of a spell. They're something Shagah created-or this Lord Lunacy person."

  John shook his head. "I don't believe so. Mab and I used to talk about things like this when I was here last. Lord Lunacy can't create anything-except illusions. And he never makes natural things. He can only mess up what the Changer has created. I guess we're looking at messed-up flowers. It's Shagah, all right. The only thing is-where's the danger?"

  By now they had penetrated a little way into the forest. The trees were getting taller, and there was less sunlight. Here and there, among aspens and birches they would see clumps of dead firs, gaunt and blackened, draped with gray-green moss. They looked like the skeletons of ancient prophets, rags still hanging from their bones, their arms pointing accusingly at their neighbors. Others stood gaunt and naked, silently crying their injustices to the skies. "They're all dying," John said. "They look awful. I bet that's part of the spell too."

  "Do you feel scared-I mean about being inside an enchanted area?" Eleanor asked.

  "No, neither do I. It's funny, isn't it? After all, I'm the scaredycat."

  "You were. You're not anymore."

  "Oh, I don't know-I was pretty scared yesterday. I've been scared half the time since we set out. Even the mention of Shagah's name usually starts me trembling. But this wood seems so ordinary."

  "Like with dandelions on red stalks?"

  "No, but the forest itself. You know what I mean."

  Now that the trees were getting taller, the sun invaded the forest with golden shafts of light. Bracken stretched its fronds out under the trees "like an endless green awning for the little people" as Eleanor put it.

  "The forest floor here is like a pebbled floor with a lot of mossy throw rugs on it-gray ones and green ones and those gorgeous orange-colored ones," Eleanor said. "But let's sit down. Surely you must be hungry. It's really time to eat."

  They ate their fruit and sandwiches in silence, taking turns to drink from the water bottle. A number of nearby trees seemed to be dying. There were two or three spruce trees dying from below. A frown crept like a shadow over John's forehead. "Can you hear them?" he asked.

  "Who?"

  For a moment John did not reply. His body was rigid, and the sandwich in his hand was poised halfway to his mouth. Then he said, "I think it's those firs ..."

  "You

  "Shhh. Listen! They're saying, `Our roots must go deeper, our roots must go deeper, the curse cannot reach to the core of the earth.' They keep saying it over and over and over."

  Eleanor held her head on one side. Her eyes were closed and she was listening intently. Suddenly she opened them, swung round to look behind her and pointing, cried, "They're actually singing! Not the spruce, but that clump of silver birches. Listen!"

  Faintly through the forest strang
e music sounded. Rustling voices sang with sibilant determination. "War, war, a long and silent war! Never will we cease to resist, though many, many have fallen!"

  On the far side of the path a group of aspens and birch stood in a circle with several conifers of various sorts. They seemed to be taking counsel together. Then in unison, and so clearly that neither John nor Eleanor needed to "shush" each other, they sang out, "We are Gaal'sl There is hope! He cannot be defeated by a cheap magician's spell! We're going to be young again! We will sprout clean again!"

  Eleanor drew in a deep breath. "You were right when you said Shagah couldn't have made the forest. Gaal made it! It's alive! It's his forest. It's not always going to be like this."

  They resumed their way with a sense of awe at the courageous resistance the trees were making, and looked at the trees around them with a new respect. They walked throughout the afternoon, noting that the more they penetrated into the forest, the denser it became. And late in the afternoon they came across yet another message from Authentio, attached like the first to the trunk of a tree. There was no greeting this time. The torn piece of paper they found simply said, "Heed the words of the raven!"

  They stared at each other in bewilderment, and discussed the message for several moments. Finally Eleanor said, "Well, if a raven turns up-and I hope we haven't missed the creaturewe'll know what it was about."

  Moments later, as the path turned, they were confronted with a raven that stood in the center of the path as though it intended to bar their way. They stopped and John, feeling a bit silly, said, "Hello!"