Guardians of the Gate

by Louis Trimble

  “Just in case,” Teron said, “you put on the guard’s clothing. I’ll take your cloak.”

  “Why do you not wear his stinking garments? They would fit you better.”

  “I need my own clothes,” he said. “Besides, you’ll have a helmet to protect you.”

  “And you have your spells?”

  His hand shook as he worked the hidden picklock out of his jacket collar. It took him longer than it should have to open the lock on die chain securing his ankle. Inge had changed clothes with the guard by the time he was through. She handed her long cloak to Teron. He draped the black garment over himself, and carrying the food tray stepped out into the corridor.

  He heard a snapping sound and turned to see Inge chaining the guard to the wall. “I will tell his fellows later and they can come to release him,” she said. Patting the hilt of the guard’s sword, she marched ahead, her step constrained bcause the guard’s uniform was small for her.

  As she had predicted, they encountered no one until they reached the top corridor and passed the guard

  room. The door was open and Teron heard the clatter of bone dice and the laughter of men well filled with wine.

  “Can we risk passing the doorway?” she whispered.

  “Keep on the far side of me. If they speak out, I’ll whisper to you what to say to them. Remember to use that old woman’s voice.”

  They moved to the doorway and started past it, Inge striving to make her large body invisible at Teron’s side.

  A guard looked up. “You there, old woman. How is the spellniaker?” He laughed.

  Teron whispered, “Say he is gone and his chain is empty, that you go to tell Korox.”

  She repeated the message. The guards surged to their feet. “Why Korox?” one cried. “Why not Davok?”

  They were moving quickly toward the curtains at the rear of the dais not far ahead. Teron cursed his error. “Call back to them that it was Korox who sent you. And then get in front of me, but don’t lose your grip on that sword.”

  She called out as the men boiled through the doorway. Teron tried to hold the cape out and juggle the tray of food at the same time. But Inge was large, and when a guard shouted questioningly, he knew she had been recognized.

  “Run for it!” He stumbled forward. “Give me the sword.” She obeyed him.

  Teron held the tray’s edge against himself with one hand and swung the sword with the other. He turned to face the guards, lifting his sword arm to throw back his hood.

  “The spellmaker!”

  “Would you all suffer the fate of die slave who died in the hall last night?” he thundered. “Stand then!”

  They stood. Teron and Inge backed to the curtains and through them. He could hear the guards racing forward once more. Teron whispered, “Act afraid of me.”

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  She whimpered and crouched to one side as the buzzing in the hall fell to silence and those on the dais turned to look behind them. Teron saw that Davok, Korox, and the two generals were there. Eldra was not On the table before them a great bowl of stew sent its fragrance to Teron’s nostrils. And beside their plates were goblets of rich red wine.

  He stepped forward. "Before you eat more, Davok, try this food you had sent to my cell.”

  Korox was on his feet his eyes burning at Teron. Teron said softly, “The drig you sent were routed, Korox. Next time do your own dirty work.”

  “What fool let him free?” Davok cried.

  Teron set the tray on the table. “I set myself free, Davok. Did you think your stinking cells could hold a spellmaker? Not even Korox and his drig could kill me. Now I say again, eat the food you sent.”

  Davok stared from the tray to Teron. “I sent no. food, though this is from my own table. I waste no good provender on a dungeon rat.”

  “Why then,” Teron said, “perhaps Korox was kind enough to send it to me. If so, he’ll have no objection to tasting it—to make sure his orders were correctly carried out.”

  Behind the dais the curtains lifted and three guards appeared. Teron touched the sword to Davok’s side. “The choice is yours, Davok.”

  Davok flushed. “All is under control. Go about your business.”

  Inge whimpered from where she was pressed against a side wall, “He locked a guard in his place, stripped him and me and changed our clothes. It was magic. I saw itl”

  Silently Teron applauded her. Only Korox’s sneer said he disbelieved. Davok snapped, “Go free the guard! You, woman, take off that uniform and get back to your work!”

  He looked coldly at Teron as the guards and Inge disappeared. ‘1 don’t know what you did and I don’t

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  care how you did it. My concern is with what happens now.”

  “Brave man,” Teron conceded. “If your wizard is half as brave, he’ll taste the food on that tray. Look at the fine wine, Korox. Wet your throat with it Smell that stew. Try it on your palate!”

  “The man is mad,” Korox said.

  “A feeble answer,” Teron mocked. "Would you suggest that the generals and Davok try the food, Korox?”

  “Be careful,” Korox croaked. “He may have poisoned it.”

  Teron laughed. “Why should I put poison on top of yours, wizard? And what poison could I carry with me that you could not counteract?” He turned to Davok. “All wizards have their poisons, known only to them. What happens to those who taste Korox’s favorite?”

  Davok said automatically, “They turn blue and bloat like rotting fish. They scream and then die. I have seen...”

  “Such a poison is beyond my powers,” Teron said generously. “Let Korox show us whether this food or wine can turn a man blue and bloat him.”

  Korox drew his robe around himself. “I warn you, Davok, destroy this spellmaker or he will destroy you!”

  “The spellmaker has a good point,” Davok mused. “Call your favorite wench, Korox, and we’ll test the food on her.”

  “I gave you warning, Davok!” Korox said in a thin, Soft voice. “Now I say, rid yourself of this charlatan!”

  “I rule in Fenn!” Davok cried. “I rid myself of whom I choose!”

  Korox drew his robe about his body and stalked away. No one spoke out, and he walked unharmed through the hall to the far doorway. He turned and pointed a finger at Davok.

  “Your time is finished. My time has come!”

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  X

  "You LET HIM GO FREE after he speaks so to you?" Teron demanded.

  Davok’s bravado disappeared. “He is a spirit caller," Davok said. “What would you have me do?” He gulped wine. “But I do not fear him. He needs me as badly as I need him.”

  Suddenly he rose and swept out a hand. “All of you, leave me. I would talk alone with the spellmaker.”

  The crowd in the hall dispersed. Even the generals rose and moved quickly away. When he was alone with Teron, Davok dropped back into his chair. “Now, who set you free?"

  Teron reached for the stew dish in the center of the table. “We can talk after I’ve eaten,” he said.

  “Answer or I’ll have your hide!”

  Teron picked up a half-filled flagon of wine and washed down a mouthful of stew. “You need me more than you need Korox,” he said.

  “If he tells the truth, he can command Udrig himself, what need have I of you or your Seventh?”

  Teron ate more stew. “You fear Udrig, Davok. You want Eliff to help you.”

  Davok shrugged. “I have always believed Eliff the greater. But Korox has made me think otherwise. He claims he can control Udrig. If so ...”

  “Korox lies,” Teron said flatly. “If he succeeds in freeing Udrig, you know well what would happen. All Zarza will be destroyed. If you lived, you’d rule a dead dnder circling Zarz forever."

  Davok drew in his shoulders as if he felt a sudden chill. “Korox claims he can control Udrig,” he said a second ti
me. But his voice was unsure.

  Teron continued to eat and drink, not speaking. Angrily Davok whirled on him. “Join with the Seventh,

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  get the powers that will bring Eliff! Or do you want

  Zarza destroyed?”

  Teron grinned into his wine. He had finally maneuvered Davok into position. Teron said, “How can I when you hold the key?”

  “No more lies, spellmaker!”

  Teron said, as casually as he could manage, “If Korox had told you all he heard from Roosk, you’d know that before the Seventh and I can join, we must have the secrets in the manuscript you stole from Erul.”

  “Bah!” Davok said. “You still lie. I saw the famous verses of Vacor before the old fool Bator hid the manuscript so well no one, not even Korox, can find it. They mean nothing.”

  “Not to you, perhaps,” Teron said, “but I am a scholar and spellmaker. I can find their meaning.”

  “I see,” Davok sneered. “So I’m to let you see Bator. He gives you the manuscript. You then summon Eliff— for yourself, not for me!” He shook his head. “The word I had is that by joining you and the Seventh will have the powers. Nothing was said about the verses of Vacor.” “Then why did you take the manuscript?” Teron demanded.

  “Korox thought we could control Eliff with it,” Davok said.

  And if Korox could control Eliff, he could destroy him, Teron thought. Freeing Udrig would be an easy task then. He said only, “If I were you, I’d guard Bator tonight. Korox may try to destroy him so the Seventh and I won’t see the verses of Vacor.”

  “You twist my mind with words,” Davok growled. He stood up. “I give you until the sun strikes the Death- court walk If you haven’t told me what I want to know by then, you’ll draw your last breath!”

  Teron felt the food grow heavy in his stomach. He had failed again. “You leave me no choice. I’ll try. But I guarantee nothing without materials to work with.” “Such as?”

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  “Some food to help me through the night and my

  spells taff.”

  Davok laughed and summoned a team of guards. “Take the spellmaker to the Seventh’s quarters.” He looked at Teron. “If you try any tricks, I’ll order the Seventh thrown into the Cold Sea before your eyes.”

  Teron said, “I’ve agreed to try to do what you ask. If I succeed, it cannot be a trick; if I fail, no trick will hide the fact. What about my staif and the food?”

  Davok laughed again. “Have food brought. The staff, spellmaker, is safe with me. I told you not to try to fool me. You defeated Korox and his drig when you were in the dungeon. The power, then, is in your mind, not in your staff.” He waved Teron away.

  Teron went quietly with the guards to the room where Eldra waited. She was standing by the fireplace. With a small cry of relief, she ran to him, pressing herself to his chest.

  “I was afraid for you! You’ve been gone so long.”

  Teron found himself kissing away the questions and soothing her with gentle pats. They both stopped abruptly and drew apart. “We are not yet joined,” Eldra Said. There was high color in her cheeks.

  “No,” he agreed, “and we may never be.” He started to speak and then touched his lips with his finger. He indicated the ceiling and formed the silent word “Korox.”

  Eldra nodded and closed her eyes. Although he was not in a rceptive condition, Teron could feel her probing brush his mind. She relaxed, opened her eyes and nodded. “He listens,” she said without sound.

  Teron studied the ceiling thoughtfully. It was dim and covered with smoke from the wall torches, but by moving from place to place, he managed to catch a flicker of light. Korox’s listening hole. It was almost centered in the ceiling and, as well as Teron could judge, no more than three inches across.

  He said awkwardly, haltingly in the ancient tongue of

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  the original song, "Can you determine if he understands

  this speech?”

  “Continue talking,” she said in the same language. She closed her eyes, and again he felt the brush of her probing.

  “Korox doesn’t know Davok has a plan to be rid of him. He thinks Davok both needs and fears him too much to act against him.” Teron hoped his words carried enough conviction that Korox must act if he understood.

  Eldra relaxed and smiled at him. “I’m sure he understood his name and that of Davok. But other than that I felt only anger and frustration.”

  “You speak the old tongue well.”

  “All Sevenths must learn it as though it were their own,” she said.

  “Then first let me thank you. But for your thoughts I would be nothing more than food for Udrig.”

  "I was afraid I lacked the strength or that—that you lacked the mentaler ability.”

  “For someone who only talked to animals before, you did will,” he said dryly.

  “I found a strength in me I did not know I had.”

  “As I did,” he said. “But it is in the Song, the increase in powers after joining.” He frowned. “That’s where Davok must have got the idea that I can give you the full powers of a Seventh! He mistook those simple powers described in the early verses for the great powers the later ones refer to.”

  “Davok?”

  He told her of Davok’s latest decree. “Is there something you can do?”

  Teron said, “I am a good magician, but I need my spellstaff to give me any powers. I don’t intend to die easily if Davok executes me, as he’s threatened. But I doubt my tricks will stand up to whatever happens in

  his Deathcourt.”

  Eldra whispered, “Maybe if we—if we joined, Teron, it would be enough.”

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  Teron said roughly, “Vacor had powers to give to Eldra. What have I to offer—stage tricks?”

  She flushed and moved away from him. “You could have told me more kindly that you prefer not to be joined with me.”

  He strode to her and caught her hands. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say! But I won’t have you offering yourself out of a sense of duty. You know the powers lie in the manuscript of the original Song, not in a simple act between a man and woman.”

  He stopped, feeling foolish and irritated because with a display of what he considered complete and typical feminine irrationality, she was smiling.

  “You’re very sweet, Teron. But do you forget the verses describing the joining?

  ‘And in their mutual joining The power of Vacor came to Eldra And the power of Eldra to Vacor.

  And when Vacor opened the heavens Opened them for the powers of Eliff Then those too came to Eldra.’

  “You are of Vacor’s blood.”

  A hammering came on the door. Teron called, “In.” The door was unlocked and Inge stepped in with a large tray of food and drink. The guard stood in the doorway, waiting for her to set down the tray and return.

  Teron said, “Leave her. The Seventh has needs to be attended to. She will knock when it is time to leave.”

  The guard closed and locked the door. Teron said in a low voice, “Is the food safe to eat?”

  “I prepared it with my own hands.” Inge looked better now, the charcoal gone from her face, the old woman’s clothes no longer hiding her body.

  Eldra moved to her and whispered in her ear, nodding toward the ceiling. Inge made a face. “I took food

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  to him less than an hour past,* she whispered. “He is

  like a madman tonight.”

  “We can talk aloud unless I lift my hand,” Teron answered her. “Much of what Korox hears, he already knows.”

  He offered Eldra food and wine and then helped himself. “Tomorrow Davok threatens to have me executed in the Deathcourt. Do you jknow how such executions are carried out?”

  Inge shivered. “It is a fearsome death with no escape. The victim stands in the center of the Deathcourt. A full
complement of bowman kneel in a large circle around him. At a signal, they shoot poisoned arrows to pierce him but not to kill. The victim cannot walk or speak. He falls to the ground and suffers terrible agonies until the poisons finally take his life.”

  “One of Korox’s poisons?”

  “Yes. He devised the Deathcourt.”

  Eldra covered Teron’s hand with her own. “You must do something!”

  “We have until morning,” he said, and tried to sound confident. He turned to Inge. “How many Whitelanders are held in slavery here in the castle?”

  “Over a hundred,” she replied.

  Teron mulled that information over silently but didn’t follow up; instead he said, “Tell us of your valley and the Gate and its Guardians.”

  Her eyes widened; he had spoken to her in the ancient tongue of the Whitelands. He spoke slowly and awkwardly, but there was no mistaking the words.

  “You speak our tongue!”

  “Only the old speech.”

  “Then you have read the Saga,” Inge said. “You must know of the greatness of my people, of their sacrifices ...”

  He spoke now so that Eldra could understand; this was nothing Korox could not hear. “I know the Saga. Other than that, the Whitelanders are a mysterious people to those of Korv.”

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  "Any child of Erul knows the tale," Eldra said. “ElifF vanquished Udrig and chose Zarza, then a world of cold and ice, as prison for him. In a valley with walls of ice Udrig was imprisoned. But deep in the heart of Zarza was heat and great power. ElifF tapped this and used it to make the Gate that keeps Udrig from sweeping through our universe, destroying it as he destroyed the universe he came from."

  “The Saga of the Whttelands tells the story differently," Teron said. “It tells how men were selected by the Chosen of ElifF and put on Zarza to guard the Gate that imprisoned Udrig—the Gate, I suppose, formed from the power you speak of. As time passed, all of Zarza became warm and fertile but for the far comer which was Udrig’s prison. Men came from the stars and settled the lands by the Warm Sea. But the original people, those of the Whitelands, chose to remain where they were, honoring their trust as Guardians of the Gate."