Hiero Desteen: 02 - The Unforsaken Hiero

by Sterling E. Lanier

  But the ones who shut your mind from the rest of the world—for I see that it was done to you, and not for your benefit—did not know of me. There was a note of actual pride in the message, Hiero noted in turn. The voice had accomplished quite a feat, and it knew it.

  I found a small place that the blockage did not cover, a hole, you would think. And into this hole I sent my own thought, calling you to me. It took much energy. I was always hungry. Even now, after just feeding, I am hungry still. I must summon more food before we talk again. You also, Two-Legs, are ready to eat and rest. Go back to where you came from first and get the food that you have brought with you, then return here to eat and rest. Later we can have speech together. Fear nothing. I alone rule here, and no enemy or beast can enter or leave unless I desire it. None has ever left.

  There was silence in his mind, Hiero realized. The voice was gone. He thought of the message and shuddered inwardly. "None has ever left." Was this to be his fate as well, trapped by some nameless being in the far mountains, to perish alone and unknown in this lake of fogs, his quest undone, and Luchare and all who loved him never even to know? He crossed himself. If he ever needed the Lord's protection, this was the time. It was not fear or even the loneliness of his plight which unnerved him. Rather, it was the thought that he had surmounted, so much, only to come to this obscure and hopeless end.

  Then, as he thought of the past, both recent and more remote, his spirits began to rise. He recalled the thousands of leagues he had come from his home in the North, the successes he had achieved, the foes he had overcome, and, above all, the woman he had saved and won. It was enough. He was still a human, and one bred to battle since youth. A warrior knows when to fight and when to wait upon events. This was a time to wait. The being whose shape he had not seen had not harmed him, only withdrawn somewhere. It had bidden him to eat and rest. Very well, he would do so. Then, refreshed, he would see what came next.

  He began to retrace his steps to where he had left Segi entranced, as he had been himself a while back, staring out into the mists. Even with the increase of pallid light and the cessation of the rain, he had the same trouble picking his way over the pavement of bones, cracked, broken, and beslimed.

  He saw a brown heap on the foreshore in front of him and decided that Segi was lying down, though the hopper looked curiously fore-shortened through the mist. Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that the animal was not there at all. He broke into a run, careless of his footing, and arrived, panting, at the object he had glimpsed so mistakenly. There at his feet lay the saddle and bridle, all complete, with reins, boots, socketed spear, and saddlebags. But of the brave creature who had followed and carried him for so long, there was no trace. The hopper was totally, completely, gone, as if he had doffed his own well-laced and buckled gear and gone for a cooling swim. Over all the gear was a smear of glutinous slime, clear and odorless!

  Hiero drew the great sword-knife from his back and whirled to face the black lake. He remembered now the heavy splash he had heard while seating himself in the mossy bay to which he had been directed. He knew now what had caused it!

  Damn you! he raged in his mind, sending the signal as savagely as he could. Come and get me! Leave off hiding and skulking wherever you are! Here's someone ready to fight, not a poor, dumb animal that did you no harm! Let's see you fight a man, you foul spawn of whatever! "Come on, I'm waiting for you!"

  So enraged was he that he brandished his sword at the lake and shouted the last words aloud. His fury at the sly murder of the helpless Segi—for he was sure that not only was the beast dead but that it had had no chance to defend itself—made him shake with baffled anger.

  From the still water there came no reply. No ripples arose on the calm surface; the colored mist, now gray and pearl, now pink and shot with faint golds, swirled as silently as before. The far shore of the tarn remained hidden from view, and nothing moved save for the eternal drip of the trickling droplets from the rocks and leaves, running through the rnoss channels and lichens until they merged with the substrate and entered the lake far below.

  Hiero was trembling with silent rage, though he made a strong effort to master himself. He had been gulled with smooth words to take him off guard, while Segi had been dragged, helpless, to some horrid den to serve as a feast for God knew what atrocity. It made him wild. Soon, however, a new mood of cold anger replaced the hot fury. What was done was done. They had been lured here by some power which had boasted that it never let go of its prey. His hapless mount had trusted him to the death—and had followed him to that death. His memory working at full throttle now, Hiero had no trouble remembering how Segi had tried to warn him on the long route up the mountain's throat, checking and snorting in a last attempt to make his master see the peril and take action. But, insensate, befooled, his brain under the spell of what laired here, Hiero had simply urged the poor brute on. And this was the result!

  Well, then, he would take the being's advice, just as he had done earlier. He took dried meat and some edible roots from the saddlebags and ate, watching the water while he did so. He did not really expect anything to materialize from the silent mere; it was simply that he knew that what had taken Segi came from there. The shore of bones was enough clue to that without any other evidence. Over the centuries, whatever had spoken to him had collected prey, and it was no accident that the lake was the epicenter of its activity. There was no way he could reach it now, but he could at least be ready when it came again. For it would come, he felt sure.

  Arriving at the mossy bank, he selected the driest section with care. In the dying light—for he could feel the sun setting through the cloudy reek—he laid himself down, His spear was across his breasts and his sword to hand. Not that, having overcome his first wrath, he felt material weapons were going to be much use to him. They were a symbol of readiness, nothing more. And the crossbar of the spear, forming a cross with the blade, gave him the added security of his faith. He was suddenly drowsy, though not suspiciously so. He remembered, just before full dark fell, to say his prayers and he silently mentioned the good beast who had served to the end and done his master's bidding to the last.

  Out in the dark waters of the lake, something listened to the prayer—something both alien and lonely.

  When Hiero awoke, it was mid-morning, according to the built-in clock in his head. The mists were far thinner than yesterday, and he could see the lake shore stretching much farther in both directions. Overhead, the sky was still hidden, but the light that came down was golden with the sun, even though strained through the coiling vapors.

  He stretched and yawned, then remembered the previous evening, and once more the anger returned. He drew his knees up, cradling the spear across his arms, and stared malevolently at the water before him, now a silver gray in the glow of the morning. His blast of mental rage received an answer at once.

  I have done you a wrong, I perceive, the voice said in his head. I have seen somewhat of your mind as you rested. This I cannot do with the same ease as when you are awake. Yet when your brain was at rest, I saw in the dark hours great anger against me. That I slew the animal that carried you here is a fact. That I knew that this would anger you is not. Somehow, in some way hidden from me, this creature and you were linked. Yet it was not your mate, not of the same kind at all. It was something that bore you as a burden, a matter which cannot have been agreeable to it, though useful to yourself It carried you as a larger animal carries a smaller which sucks its blood. Yet you got no sustenance from it, nothing beyond a slight increase in speed and ease. There was a brief pause, as if the thing were trying to formulate some new thought. At last it said, or sent, I do not understand the cause of your anger, but I will do what I can to make amends if you will explain.

  A good deal of Hiero's anger evaporated on the instant, for reasons hard for a non-telepath to understand. He knew at the very moment that he took the message in that whatever spoke to his mind was telling the truth. His mind had been too well
schooled over the years, and particularly in the recent past, for him to be mistaken. The invisible being which addressed him was not lying. Everything that it had stated was true in the context of the creature's understanding. It was honestly puzzled. The relationship between man and mount was a complete mystery to it. The old, cool—why did he think of that adjective?—brain which questioned him was quite genuinely baffled. It was seeking an honest answer! He dropped the spear, almost without thinking, and then stood up, his own thoughts all askew.

  Then he saw that, by the long rock offshore, the water was moving. The invisible voice had an owner. And, as the voice had promised, the owner was going to reveal itself at last.

  A round, shiny surface, dull brown and glistening, broke the surface first. It was the top of an enormous head, several yards across. The eyes came next, large and round, with brown pupils and yellow rims. Above the eyes were two lumps of matter which extended slowly; as they rose, they became long tentacle horns with the same skin as the head. This in turn was smooth and yet grainy, all in mottled shades of brown. There was no nose, and the mouth was only a slit under the chinless head. Ears were also absent.

  As the eyes steadily gazed at the fascinated man, the great head rose higher and higher on a smooth, columnar neck. Still the mighty neck rose, and now the head was inclined and looking down at him. The water moved before it as it advanced slowly and majestically. When it reached the rock, the neck lifted farther still, and the thickening of a giant body began to follow. When its body was partly out of the liquid, it stopped and came no farther. Runnels of lake water were pouring from its sides as it finally came to rest.

  Now you see me, Two-Legs, with your own eyes and not in fear, as all the others, the countless others of the past, have done.

  Hiero stared up at the titan. Whatever its mental powers, which he knew to be great, the colossal thing before him could have smothered a buffer bull like an ant. That its greatest bulk still lay below the surface was obvious. It was simply resting its forepart on the rock so that he could converse with it at ease. There seemed to be no limbs of any sort, unless one counted the two great pseudo-pods that extended and contracted over the eyes. For a moment there was a pause as the two beings examined each other.

  It was the man who sent the next message. It was a somewhat confused one.

  Who are you? What are you? The thing you killed was my friend. It trusted me and came here at my bidding, though it did not wish to. Do you know what a friend is? Even as he spoke to the mighty brain before him, he realized that of course he had answered his own last question.

  Many, many questions again from the little Two-Legs. Now that Hiero could see the actual possessor of the mental "sound," it seemed to boom and echo in his head, though this was only illusion,

  I have never thought of who lam, the giant of the lake went on. I have always been alone. I perceive that if there are many of one kind, then there must be ways of distinguishing. But there are none like me. Call me what you will. I shall know who is meant. It seemed to pause.

  As to what I am, I cannot be sure. My memory goes back far, Two-Legs, so far that I had not even begun thinking. Back in the time of my beginning, I could not think, I could only feel! I was, I must have been, as one with the dumb beasts, my food of now, whose bones cover the land.

  Hiero wondered how long it must have taken to pile up the countless skeletons he had seen and had stumbled over.

  The lake creature caught his thought. Yes, it took long. And longer than you think! For these bones that you have seen are but the latest. The whole shore on which you stand and all around and out of your sight, that too is bone, bone under the moss and the plants. When I began to feed, there was naught here but naked rock!

  Hiero stood, silent and awed. How much time had there been, to have allowed the creation of the very shore of the lake from the detritus of this thing!

  So much time, it went on, catching his thought again, that I, who have never had the skill or the need to measure time, cannot tell how long. But I can dimly recall something. And that something was fear! Even I, the One, I too have known fear. There was a great light in the sky, and lesser lights passed across it. The earth trembled and the mountains fell. And there came a heat and a burning in the air. And the heat was strange and not of the normal kind, which comes from the sky in quickness when there is a storm. That heat I know well. But this other, this heat of long ago, it made the waters hot in turn. I had to leave the lake and burrow deep under hidden rocks. At last, I dared to come above and seek the light again and the cool waters. Now, all this my body remembers, but not my brain. Do you understand, Two-Legs? It was only then that I thought, "I am. "And I was not as large as you, not then, and I bore something with me, something which grew from me and which I needed for my own defense. Long, long ago that was. And as I learned to find food, for I suddenly needed much more, I discarded that which I bore. I grew too large to carry it. Yet I saved it, for it was all I had to remember the ancient days, the days of fear, when I too trembled as the mountains shook. I have it yet, for I keep it safe in my body. Perhaps this will tell you in turn of my age and the ages gone before.

  A ripple seemed to pass down the giant neck. Then there came another and another, almost as if the vast body were somehow stretching. As the Metz watched closely, a bulge appeared—not large, but projecting upward from the mottled brown of the smooth, slimy hide. From the place where the body merged with the water, the bulge traveled upward until it was at a level with Hiero's eyes. Then the skin simply split, and that which had caused the bulge was extruded to the surface. It lay on the great body, gleaming in the soft light filtered down through the mist, a lovely golden snail shell, no bigger than a small melon.

  As the priest watched, the skin opened again, and the thing was gone. He could almost have smiled, had he not been struck with such wonder. A snail! This deity of the hills, this titan older than memory, was a snail!

  He sobered quickly. Whatever the thing was, whatever it had been, it was certainly not to be despised now. And what had it not seen! Why, it was itself an actual, living child of The Death! For what were the fires and the heat, the passing lights and the shaken mountains, but a living memory of what had destroyed the Earth countless years in the past? Ever since that time, this creature had stayed here in the hills, growing and growing, accumulating wisdom as it grew in size, teaching itself by experience, wondering, studying, groping for knowledge. And always it was alone! What must it have been, that life of millennia, always alone? Hiero's pity was stirred, even as he considered that incredible existence. Here was living proof of the thesis of Brother Aldo and those of his fellow Eleveners that ail life had purpose. But yet what purpose was there to this?

  All the while he thought, the great amber eyes, lidless and lashless, stared down, considering him in turn. And the brain of the giant was still logical, its memory of recent events still functioning.

  I have tried, Two-Legs, to tell of what I am. I see that you have understood, as I had hoped you might. But there is yet the matter of the animal which bore you on its back. I took it for food. I removed the things it carried, for those I deemed to be of you and necessary to you. Then I drew it into the water. It felt no pain, but fell asleep. And I fed. Thus have I done since I first knew that I was. I meant you no harm, nor do I now. If I could restore the animal to life, I would do so gladly. I wish you contented, Two-Legs, for I did not bring you here to do you harm. I wish speech, the first speech I have ever had with a fellow mind, and that is my sole purpose in trapping you, as in ages past I learned to lure my food hither.

  Not without an ache for Segi, Hiero dismissed all thoughts of vengeance. The tragedy of the hopper's death was no one's fault. The mind of the giant mollusc could not lie to him on this, if indeed on any matter. It had no training in lying, anyway. Why should it mask its purposes? The ages it had lived were enough evidence of its statements in themselves. Emotions had been foreign to this being that had lived without companionship
for many thousands of years. In all that stretch of lonely time, it had possessed only one thing to keep it from going mad with boredom. This was its desire to gain knowledge of the world outside, to know what else there was to existence besides its lonely mere, lost and forgotten in the far reaches of the hills. A seeker after knowledge all his life, Hiero could not but sympathize with the desire of the titan for new learning. It had not meant harm, but only to bring to itself the brain it sensed for the first time in its history.

  He thought rapidly, You tell me that without knowing you slew my beast, who was dear to me in a way that you cannot know. I think I believe you. But in addition to this deed, and I will admit that you were ignorant, you spoke also of repairing the harm that you have done. You may have done more harm than you know, even now. For I am on a mission, a journey. There is great need for haste so that my enemies, the enemies of all that is good, will not achieve what they plan. From this path you have diverted me, for you have drawn me countless leagues from my true path, which lies in the far North. Both this and the death of my hopper stand against you, if your mind is honest.

  The reply was instantaneous. I have told you the truth, if truth is what I believe. I have no way of measuring the truth, as you call it, though I perceive that you have and that so do others. Attend, then. The creature paused once more, in what Hiero now knew to be its way of marshaling its thoughts in order. It did not like disorder, this solitary mind! And as he thought this, a name came to his lips almost involuntarily. "Solitaire."

  The great, cool voice again reverberated in the endless corridors of his mind. So—you have given me a name in your sounds! I, who have never had or needed a name, accept it. Solitaire! To the man's continued amazement, the actual letters of the word were formed, in good Metz writing, in his brain! The titan was still sending a message, however.