by Lee Duigon
“It’s not much of a road,” Helki said, “but you’d never get the wagons up without it. These hills bear the thickest woods I ever saw.” He’d gone ahead, scouting the road, and just returned.
“That road was built to bring armies down into Obann,” Shaffur said. “The Thunder King never thought it would bring armies into his lands. It’s a good joke on him!”
Uduqu looked up at it and said, “It’s a long way to walk.”
One of the Abnaks caught Fnaa trying to run away to Ninneburky and brought him back to Chief Buzzard.
“And where were you off to, Your Majesty?”
Fnaa and Uduqu had become friends in Obann, so the boy had no fear of Abnaks. Besides, he suspected they didn’t like being left behind at Carbonek any better than he did. So he answered, “I was just looking for something to do that’s a little more fun than hanging around here, watching the moss grow on the stones. I was on my way to Ninneburky to visit my friends, if that’s what you want to know.”
“Oh, sassy!” said a warrior. “That’s just the way King Ryons used to talk to us before he was a king.”
“So I’ve heard,” said Buzzard. “This is a boy who will give some grey hairs to his mother. Someone go fetch her!”
That made Fnaa squirm. “Chief,” he said, “the prophetess told me to do anything that was in my heart to do, and it was in my heart to go to Ninneburky.”
“Without your mother’s leave?” Buzzard said. For all their ferocious ways, Abnaks loved their own children and took good care of them. Boys were expected to stand up to warriors—it showed the right kind of spirit—but never to their mothers.
Fnaa’s mother, Dakl, had been a slave all her life. Now she was free. While Fnaa impersonated the king, she’d pretended to be his servant and a handmaid to the queen. That took courage, Gurun used to say, and Fnaa believed her. It was Dakl who had taught him to play the fool so that he wouldn’t be sold away from her. So Fnaa knew his mother was anything but a timid, silly woman. While Chief Buzzard told her what her son had tried to do, Fnaa wished he could crawl into a hole and hide.
“You would have gone away and not even told me?” she said. She’d come at a run and had to keep brushing a loose lock of hair from her eyes.
“Mother, you sent me to Ninneburky once before, all by myself.” Fnaa thought it needful to remind her of this.
“That was different!” Dakl said. “King Ryons was in danger and that was the only thing we could do to help him. And I worried myself to sleep the whole time you were gone!”
“I thought you’d say no, this time,” Fnaa said. “But Jandra said I should do what’s in my heart to do. That’s why, when I was holding the king’s place for him, I made believe I was a daft king. It came into my heart to do it, and so that’s what I did.”
“God speaks through that little girl, sometimes,” Buzzard said. “That’s how Ryons was made king. We set great store by those words! I don’t know—maybe God means for this boy to go to Ninneburky instead of staying here. But one thing I do know—he would have gotten lost before he came even close to finding his way out of this forest.”
“A fine figure you would have cut, blundering around the woods until you could be rescued!” Dakl said. Fnaa’s face burned because he knew Buzzard was right: he would have surely gotten lost.
“If you like,” the chief said to Dakl, “I’ll send someone with him to see he gets to Ninneburky safely.”
“And back again?”
“And back again, for sure.”
“Then I will let him go,” said Dakl. “I don’t know much about the God of Obann. I am Fazzan by birth, but I never knew my people’s gods. Chief Zekelesh says they weren’t worth knowing. But I do know that God spoke to my son once, back in Obann City, through the little girl.” And to Fnaa, “If you had a father, he would fetch you a good, hard clout for trying to sneak off without a word to me. But we were slaves, and you were all I had. I have always been too soft with you.”
“I’ll clout him, if you like,” said Buzzard. For a moment Fnaa had a scare that did him good. But Dakl said, “The next time he has earned a whipping, I’ll bring him straight to you. But this time he shall do as he pleases. I don’t like to go against the words of the prophetess.”
Using the road, it took King Ryons’ army not quite three days to get to the top of the pass. And then they stood there marveling at the wreckage of King Thunder’s hall and the gold that shone like fire.
“It’s like the sun has fallen to the earth!” said Chagadai. “It hurts my eyes to look at it.”
Uduqu was almost too weary to spare it a glance. The uphill march was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. With a great sigh, he found a convenient boulder and sat on it. Obst stood beside him, tall and straight.
“Ah, my legs!” Uduqu said. “It feels like every year I’ve lived is wrapped around my ankles! If I tried to climb another step, my feet would stick to the ground. I’m glad the rest of the way is all downhill!”
“We got here, though,” Obst said. “I never thought I’d ever climb these mountains again.”
“Oh, but look at you!” Uduqu looked him up and down. “Aren’t you bone-tired? You’ve walked all the way, and yet there you stand, as fresh as a young warrior courting a girl who smiled at him! Old man, how do you do it?”
The question troubled Obst. “I don’t know,” he said. “When I climbed Bell Mountain with the children, I foundered before I reached the top. I nearly died. Maybe I did die, for a little while. But when I heard the bell, I got right up and nearly skipped back down the mountain! It was the gift of God—along with the gift of tongues, which I discovered later.
“But it’s true, Uduqu—I ought to be exhausted, and I’m not. I feel no more tired than if I’d done an ordinary day’s work around my cabin.”
“Ha! I see it now,” Uduqu said. “You’re getting younger instead of older.”
Obst shuddered. “Don’t say that!” he said. “Someone else said the same thing to me, not long ago—Fnaa, I think it was. But it was just a foolish thing to say. But now you’ve said it, too.”
“By the time we’re done with all our work,” said Uduqu, “you’ll be a beardless boy again.”
“I hope not,” Obst said. “I was an awful fool when I was young.”
Up in front of the army, on her horse beside the king, Gurun felt a shiver—not that it was cold.
“This is an evil place, my lord,” she said. “I am not going to be happy until we leave it far behind. I wish we didn’t have to spend the night here.”
“Why do you say that, Gurun? I wish you wouldn’t!”
“Wicked men died here. They died in their sins, smitten by the hand of God. Do you see those heavy timbers? Those were no protection! And all that gold? I can’t help wondering how much evil they did to acquire so much gold. They must have robbed whole nations—and I think robbery was probably the least of their crimes.”
Chief Shaffur raised his voice so that everyone could hear.
“Behold the Thunder King’s treasure!” he cried. “And he lies buried underneath it! Let any man who wishes a share in the curse lay his hands on this gold!”
No one moved. However they might lust for gold, the Wallekki were a superstitious people.
Helki broke the spell. “I reckon I’ll take some of my boys and scout a little ways downhill,” he said. “Make your camp here, Chieftains, and set a strong guard over it. We don’t know who might be coming up this pass from the other side.” He twirled his staff over his head and walked off with his Griffs. Looth whistled and the Attakotts followed, each with an arrow nocked to his bow.
The army got busy making camp. The Hosa had taught the others their custom of each man carrying a stake sharpened at both ends, which could be thrust into the ground to make a palisade of sorts. It would at least stop an attack by cavalry. In the middle of the camp, the Wallekki set up lines for the horses. The Hosa took the side facing the east end of the pass, with the Wallekk
i on the flanks and the others facing west. It was a far cry, thought Ryons, from the way the army used to set up camp—in no particular order at all. They’d all learned a few things, since then.
By the time the sun set, they were all having their supper. And the Ghols were singing to keep off the spirits of the dead.
CHAPTER 12
The Lure of Gold
When the excitement over the king’s visit had died down, Enith pressed Ellayne for the rest of the story of Abombalbap and the glass bridge.
“Let’s go down to the river instead,” Jack said, but he was overruled. Ellayne brought the book out to the porch and picked up reading where she’d left off.
“After Brandyle came a young knight named Gwydd, eager to try the adventure of the bridge. Abombalbap told him how Brandyle and his horse had fallen into the abyss, but Gwydd said, He was a foolish knight to think he could cross over on his horse.
“Then Gwydd alit from his horse and stripped off all his armor and laid his shield aside; he was clad only in his undergarment with his sword in hand. Abombalbap said, In God’s name, sir, what do you mean to do? For I much fear for you. But Gwydd laughed and said, Now, Sir Faintheart, you shall see what one who is both brave and fleet of foot can do! And he ran out onto the bridge so swiftly that he left behind his shadow; but before he was halfway across, the bridge broke into a thousand thousand flying splinters; and with a great cry, Gwydd fell headlong into the abyss, and his shadow dived in after him. And when he was gone, the bridge restored itself by magic. God save us! said Abombalbap.
“And so knights came from far and wide, each of them seeking to rescue the princess from the crystal castle; and one by one, all those knights fell to their deaths. Abombalbap sorely grieved them, but he knew not whether to go from that place or stay.
“Then there came a strong knight named Aristomar, who greeted Abombalbap with good cheer and spoke to him. I have long pondered this adventure, said he, and it seems to me that all those knights were ill-prepared for it. But I went to the chamber house for thirty days in a row, and each day made a donation to the house, and each day prevailed on the prester to say a prayer for my good enterprise. Furthermore, on each of those days, I cut a page from a book of Holy Scriptures and burned it, and mixed the ashes into my wine, and drank it down.
“God defend us, said Abombalbap, think you to compel the Lord to do your bidding? I pray you, Sir Knight, not to hazard yourself upon this bridge: for I perceive now that it is a temptation. But Aristomar laughed him to scorn and said, Now by the power vested in me I will deliver the damsel! And he walked out onto the bridge, and as soon as he set foot on it, the bridge broke into a thousand thousand pieces, and Aristomar fell.”
Ellayne closed the book.
“No wonder Obst says those are foolish stories,” Jack said.
“Foolish?” cried Enith. “It’s a marvelous story! Read us the rest of it, Ellayne!”
But Ellayne was beginning to get an uneasy feeling about the story. There was nothing like it in the Scriptures that her mother read to her every day, although the Old Books were full of stories. She’d read this story of Abombalbap before, and always enjoyed it, but now there seemed more to it than there used to be. Something made her wonder if it was a good story or a bad one. Could Obst be right about these stories? Or was there something in them that he’d failed to see?
“I wonder why Aristomar fell,” Ellayne said. She’d never wondered about it before; she’d just accepted it. But now it seemed the story was trying to tell her something that she didn’t understand.
“He fell because he was so cocksure of himself, that’s why,” Jack said. “Anyone can see that.”
“But what about the prayers and the donations?” asked Enith. “And he even ate pages from the Scriptures!”
“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that,” said Ellayne. But she couldn’t explain why.
It would take many days to assemble a thousand men of the militia. How many, the baron didn’t know. “It’s a good thing for us to find out now,” he said, “rather than wait for war to come upon us. We need to know how long it takes to muster men for battle.” He kept Ellayne busy writing summonses to captains and sergeants up and down the river, and Jack making sure the summonses went out.
But already the whole town had heard the whisper of gold as a whisper in the air. It was the Thunder King’s gold. It was up on top of this mountain, or that mountain, and belonged to anyone who’d go and take it. The rumor put out other branches, too. King Ryons had gone up to get the gold, but the baron was planning to take it away from him and make himself king. It was piled up in bars and ingots. No, it was a heap of golden coins, or a great cave stuffed with golden crowns and necklaces and other gorgeously beautiful things. No guard stood over it. It was guarded by barbarians. It was guarded by ghosts.
Here Ysbott the Snake saw his opportunity.
“Why should a boy king have all that gold or those foreign Heathen in his following? Why should Roshay Bault have it all to himself? You have just as much a right to it! Whose farms were stripped, whose herds were driven off, when the Thunder King’s hordes came down the mountain? Not the king’s! Not the baron’s. Why should they get fat on treasure, while you stay lean? Just two pockets full of that gold would make any of us rich for life.”
Ysbott knew that those who heard him would repeat his words to others, until the whole town heard them. Very soon, what he meant to happen began to happen. One by one, two by two, men began to steal out of Ninneburky and on up toward the hills, following the river. Only then did he speak of his plans to Hrapp the cobbler.
“Make ready to close your shop,” he said. “I want you to come with me up the mountain.”
“Are we going for the gold?” Hrapp said. He’d heard about this from several of his customers. He was a timid man, but greedy: easy for Ysbott to handle. “It looks like nearly everyone in town will be heading for the hills.”
“The more who go, the safer it’ll be for us,” said Ysbott. All he really wanted was for Hrapp not to stay behind while he went on. The cobbler might say something that he shouldn’t say. “With enough people swarming all over the countryside, the baron won’t know what to do. Among so much confusion, we’ll have our best chance to do well for ourselves.”
“I’ve never been up to the hills,” Hrapp said.
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind! And you’ll go because I’ve asked you nicely—won’t you?”
Hrapp was more afraid of Ysbott than he was of any dangers that might be lurking in the hills, so of course he agreed to go—as Ysbott knew he would.
How many of his townspeople had already left before he noticed they were leaving, the baron couldn’t even guess. And as yet only some two hundred of the militia had reported for duty.
“Why don’t you send some riders after the people to tell them to come back?” said the baroness. “I should have known something like this was happening when Lanora went to Stenn’s bakery the other day and found a sign on the door that said ‘Closed Until Further Notice.’”
“They won’t come back because my riders tell them to,” Roshay said. “They’ve heard about the gold—and it was supposed to be a secret! I don’t know what to do.” He ground his teeth because he hated not knowing what to do; it wasn’t a position in which he often found himself. “At this rate, the whole town will be deserted before I can muster the militia. Silly fools—and I’m responsible for them!”
“Can’t you just shut the gates and not let anybody leave?”
“I can try.”
That was the same day the king’s army made ready to descend the pass. The chieftains put the men in marching order, but first Obst had something to say to them.
“Warriors!” His voice carried well in the crisp mountain air. “Today marks the first time in all of history that a king of Obann will cross the mountains with an army.
“Once, long ago, after he had lost his kingdom, Ozias came this way, alone
but for a few loyal servants. Later, but still a thousand years ago, the Empire sent many armies into the East and conquered it, all the way out to the Great Lakes. But that was done in pride and lust for power, and the Empire perished in the Day of Fire.
“We, behind our king who is a descendant of Ozias, now embark on quite another mission, and in a spirit of humility, knowing that our enemy is stronger than we are and that our lives are in God’s hands. We make this crossing in obedience to Him—not to conquer for ourselves, but to proclaim the lordship of our God to peoples who have never known Him.
“To your peoples, my brothers! Not to take from them, but to give; not to enslave them, but to set them free. For the law of our God is the law of liberty.”
And all those warriors, who were born Heathen but now belonged to God, sent up a cheer that made the mountains ring.