by Andre Norton
Yet, as I continued to study the pair, I felt no aversion to their oddity; rather, I was certain that they, and this place, held peace. I knew this because none of the protective Wards that had been set at our birthing awoke.
That strength which had brought us here suddenly vanished and, just as we had thirsted, so now we hungered. Mercifully, our need was answered at once. Beneath the ledge which supported those representations of—alien beings? unknown gods?—more shelves had been cut into the cave walls. And these were burdened with an array of edibles. As one, we moved toward them.
Pottery jars, crocks, and covered baskets we explored; then, sitting by the shelves, we ate. We could recognize dried fruit, though none of us could identify the beast that had supplied the strips of preserved meat, or the grain from which lumpy cakes had been fashioned. A jug of juice served to wash down our larder-lootings, and potent stuff it was.
Drucilla
IN SPITE OF our training in herb-knowledge, I could put no name to any scent or taste I found among our new foodstuffs. However, our Wards raised no warning of poison in this unexpected feast, so I gave myself up to enjoying it. I was carefully licking satisfying jamlike stuff from one finger after another when Bina spoke:
“Tam, Cilla—where are we?”
I answered first, soberly, remembering the way we had prevented Bina from completing that dismissal of a possibly alien power.
“In the Dismals.”A short answer, but the only truth I could affirm.
Tam finished feeding Climber a strip of well-cured meat and made a reply different from mine.
“That we must discover. But first”—she shook her head, yawning, and that crudely cut lock flopped across one eye again—“here we can rest.”
She sounded so certain that we could not disagree. A moment later, Climber glanced at Tam; then, evidently sensing her weariness, he padded across the rock floor, his nose pointing to the screen. We did not even try to get to our feet as fatigue suddenly descended upon us. Leaving the evidence of our meal behind us, we crawled around the end of that flimsy provision for privacy.
The room beyond held a frame not unlike that of the truckle beds we knew, which were intended for personal servants or children. It was well supplied with bedclothes, showing the corners of several covers lapped one atop the other. But it was also plainly intended for a single sleeper. Following the custom we had employed from very early in our lives, we allowed luck to decide which bird would occupy this nest. The lot fell to Tam.
However, beside the truckle bed was set a basketlike chest, and we discovered that it held a wealth of other bedding, though to identify the various materials was beyond our powers at the moment. From them we mounded up two pallets, one on either side of the bed, and found them soothing indeed to bruised and weary bodies. Thus we slept.
Tamara
MY AWAKENING WAS quiet but complete. The wan light of the room had not brightened, but I could see clearly as I sat up on the bed that chance had won me. What I saw made me catch hold of the top cover and pull it up to my chin.
Climber had joined someone who stood at the foot of the bed, surveying me as if I were one of the monsters that legend caused to lair in the Dismals.
The stranger was a fraction taller than my father. His clothing had been reduced to a minimum, either by the demands of the climate or a lack of local materials, until it consisted of a sleeveless jerkin fastened by a thong, and tight legginglike breeches. There was no sign of the buff coat or defensive half-armor such as any man venturing forth in the North wore as a matter of course.
Both jerkin and breeches were fashioned of a dark material that flickered with myriad tiny sparks of light, though those flecks were arranged in no pattern. A wide belt of gleaming mesh, supporting bags and sheaths, cinctured the trim waist beneath his broad breast.
I had not dared to look directly at his face, being more embarrassed than afraid. To be found naked as the One had made me (for I had shed the tatters Climber had left me), by a male in whose bed I had slept—! This was a situation that called for diplomacy, and that quality was not my strong point under the best of circumstances. However, I knew I must make an effort; I could only hope not to appear at too great a loss. I therefore raised my eyes to regard my examiner directly.
His skin was lighter than that of the men I had known who spent their days outside, and he wore no beard. Any male I knew would have sprouted chin whiskers in some fashion or another. The hair he did possess was thick and dark red; it fell in loose waves back from his forehead and was apparently clasped into control only at the nape of his neck. Down his left cheek ran the seam of an old scar.
The eyes, regarding me with a brooding stare, were as green as my own. However, it was not his continued gaze but a shielded quality about that look that troubled me. Here was one who might be sheltered by a strong personal Ward.
I tugged my cover higher. I would have preferred to pull it completely over my head, as well, yet I knew I must assert myself.
Must there be a Naming of Names? My sisters and I might just be driven to such a revelation. But I, Tamara, would not surrender the Power bound in the sounds that meant not only my body but my very soul until I was compelled to do so.
“If this be your hall,” I broke the silence at last, using the older and more formal turn of speech, “we have indeed entered without bidding. Climber found us in dire need and led us here, after Evil caught us in its toils through no fault of our own.”
Climber stood on hind legs, his forepaws against the stranger’s thigh. Now he actually nodded his head as if testifying in his own way that I spoke truth.
“Who—”The newcomer began to speak, but he was interrupted by a choked cry. Bina sat up, then scrambled awkwardly to her feet, dragging her top cover about her—a pose in which Cilla speedily joined her.
He stared intently, turning his head to survey each of us. Cilla dropped a curtsey, then hurriedly pulled her covering tighter. Bina came to stand against the bed as if on guard.
“Who,” he began again after a sweeping appraisal, “are you three, so alike one unto the other, seeking sanctuary here?”
Our unwitting host was, indeed, questing for the names of his uninvited guests. However, I dared not even probe to find if my suspicions were correct that this stranger possessed a Talent not unlike ours.
His garb, as I had noted before, was utterly unlike that of the surface Northers. Now I noted another detail about his accessories: though a sheath resembling that of a short sword hung at his belt, it contained no sword—not even a hunting knife.
But the fact that the scabbard did not hold a weapon of bone or honed steel did not mean that it was empty.
My training had never brought me into an encounter with any adept save for the women of my own family. Yet I had long ago learned that elsewhere in the world, beyond this island continent where we had been birthed, dwelt others who dealt with the Light or the Darkness, and even with different Powers.
The intruder—no, it was we who deserved that title—was scowling now, his emerald eyes continuing to hold me. Yes, this man had Talent, but none that I could measure; it did not feel akin to the Gifts that the House of Scorpio held with pride.
Cilia and Bina risked a unison Send to me. “Tam, you must Name or otherwise explain us, or this one might force what he seeks from us by hurtful means.”
Reluctantly, I yielded. “We are Scorpys, daughters to the Earl of Verset, Alsonia’s Lord Warden on the Border, and we are come by the queen’s own choosing.”
“You are well north of the Border,” he returned. “Who—or what—brought you here in such a state?”
I was not going to allow him to scant me of the information due me in kind. “Under what clan banner do we now rest?”
He appeared to give that question some consideration. Again he studied us for a time; then at last he smiled. That expression laid to rest the greater portion of my uneasiness.
“The banner of my house no longer flies, my lady�
�not since Erseway. I am a man without kin or name.”
“All creatures bear names,” I objected, pointing to Climber, “even animals. Therefore you, too, must be called in some way.”
I did not miss the sudden tension of his body, or the fact that Climber looked at me and snarled.
“The Battle of Erseway was fought the day we entered the world,” I added. “To judge by your appearance, you were too young to have borne sword at that time.”
The stranger said nothing, but Cilla spoke after a moment. “That war is long ended, though the land suffers, as ever, from raiding and plundering along the Border. Our father has arranged a Truce meeting. He was at that council when we were taken.”
“Any hoped-for truce has surely been broken now,” I put in. “The last I heard, a hot tod was riding on the trail of those who took us, with sleuthhounds to lead them. The Starkadders will have much to answer for to their king in Kingsburke.”
Again our host allowed the silence to stretch, but at length he said, “I think perhaps it would be well to tell me the whole story, ladies—if I do, indeed, behold three of you and am not completely bemused.”
I was so far from the mood in which one tells such a tale that I answered shortly, moistening my lips before I spoke. “We have, sir, been left without proper clothing—”
He did not laugh, as I had half expected. The only emotion he continued to display was interest.
“Perhaps that is a lack which my stores can answer also.”He turned before I could answer, to disappear beyond the screen, leaving us to guess what his next move might be.
We learned soon enough. From the cave beyond we could hear movements. Our nameless host appeared again very shortly, holding a bundle against him. This he tossed onto the bed, nearly striking me.
“Use what you can. I have not fashioned garments for any but myself.” Then he took from his belt a bulging pouch, which gave forth a jangling as it, too, was flung to land on the sleeping-place. “When you will,” he concluded, “give me your story.” Before we could utter any thanks, he was gone once more.
We turned our attention to what he had brought. The more quickly we could garb ourselves, the faster we might be able to confront him again to learn what we must know in order to face the future.
I unrolled the bundle of clothing and spread it out on the bed for inspection. It proved to hold three sets of the long breeches, three of the jerkins, and three pairs of soft foot coverings, for each of which at least four layers of thick, close-furred hide had been used.
Cilla looked up after one appalled examination. Of us all, she had always delighted the most in attire that was attractively fashioned. “’Tis far from court dress, to be sure,” she observed ruefully. “But at least it is better than this.” She gave a disgusted snort and dropped her coverlet drapery and rags to the floor.
Bina’s fingers fastened onto the pair of the legginglike garments nearest to me. She shook the breeches out. They proved to be crafted of two thicknesses of hide, and the seams were not puckered. Bina knew cloth well. I myself could sort wool, grade linen, and even gauge price on silk from overseas better than most merchants; but this stuff was far from any fabric I had ever handled.
In the first place, though the inner part, which would rest against the skin, was smooth, the outside was scaled. The color was gray, but it was brightened by a design formed of other scales, these being a light blue almost the shade of a good sword blade.
It could only have been reft from one creature, or—in what I had already begun to think of as “the Upper World”—many creatures of a kind I knew: the serpent-kin. Still, when I once more inspected the interior, I found only two seams, not the many I expected. Nowhere could a reptile exist that would be large enough to provide such a skin as this! Still, snakeskin the material seemed; I could put no other name to it.
“Snake,” I voiced my discovery, passing the garment on to Bina, who tested its flexibility to discover that it seemed not unlike heavy silk.
“No!” Cilla had been reaching for a pair of the scaly breeks, but she withdrew her hand hastily. Bina, however, carefully examined the inner part, as I had done.
“Maybe a serpent-thing this large lived once and cast a skin, and that was preserved—”
Bina interrupted me. “Do you now suggest a dragon, Tam? There are no dragons … .” She fell silent as she half crumpled the leggings and they yielded, as strong cloth would not do.
I refused to consider any longer what might be the source of the material I was drawing on over my legs and up my body. The garments had not been tailored for me, and they did not fit tightly as did the leggings our host wore; they also rose well above my waist. The problem of keeping these clothes anchored now confronted us until Cilla remembered the bag the Nameless One had left.
She loosed its drawing string and shook forth the contents. What poured out before our eyes made us gasp aloud: a golden rivulet sparked with jewels. It was as if the stream through which we had waded the night before, with its glowing pebbles, had been turned by some alchemy to precious metals and gems.
“Treasure!” Cilla crowded closer. “So the legends are true after all!” She caught up a large brooch, part of which was a circle of jewels. They appeared gray to the first glance, but when the piece was tilted, each stone showed in its depths a slender ribbon of red-gold light.
I pulled free a twisted belt of what I thought was gold entwined with another metal. This cincture, too, held sparks of fire that slid along as if imprisoned just beneath the surface. I made good use of it to ensure the safety of my scaled leggings.
We hastened to make further use of our host’s nearly overwhelming generosity.
Eight
Sabina
Having made very sure that we would not lose some part of our covering, though there were brooches enough in the bag to assure our decency, we eyed each other. Tam had used a chain of tiny links, each dotted with a gem, to anchor that errant lock of hair over her forehead.
In truth we made an odd appearance. “Hardly court garb,” I commented. “Did you look closely at any of these?” I indicated three of the brooches that latched the jerkin across my breast.
“If they were fashioned by any goldsmith of Alsonia,”Tam observed, “it was long ago.”
“They are lettered,” I returned. For I was indeed certain that some of the odd embossed turns and curves had meaning.
I saw Cilla squinting down at her own choices. She was frowning, and I sensed that she did not want such a guess to be the truth. It might be that the less she had to consider what she wore now, the better.
A glittering pile of treasure still remained, and I swept it back into the pouch, twisting the closing cord to keep it safe.
“Ready?” I asked, thinking that I would never be truly thus.
“Ready,” they affirmed, and we rounded the end of the screen, coming once more into the open part of the cave.
I had been sure that our nameless host would be waiting. He was not, however, nor was Climber to be seen. All that had befallen now seemed like a many-layered dream. As children who are unsure of new surroundings, we linked hands.
What did greet us was an aroma, more welcome than any costly fragrance from overseas: the scent of roasting meat. I looked to the graceless disorder in which we had left the food shelves; that had all been cleared away. But farther along, where we had not yet explored, a red glow shone at floor level.
We headed toward that gleam and discovered a fire-pit. Over it was suspended a cut of meat on a chain, which turned and re-turned for a different kind of roasting, needing no spit-boy to tend it. A sizzling arose now and then as a drop of grease struck the low flames.
The pit was dug very close to the cave wall, and not far away was cut another of the shelves. On that ledge lay knives and two long-shafted forks. I reached for the nearest blade, thinking it might offer some protection. Though the Nameless One had offered us no reason to feel anything but comfort from his generosity, I felt
a little easier with a weapon to hand—until I was able to inspect it more closely.
“Stone!” Certainly the blade was wrought of some mineral, albeit discolored by frequent kitchen use. In my hold it was heavy and ill-balanced.
“This also!” Cilla had taken up one of the forks and held it out. The two slender prongs were indeed needles splintered from rock.
“Stone or not, these have been carefully made,” I commented.
Tam had picked up the other knife and was testing the point carefully with a fingertip. “I’ll wager a whole Rounder that this work is not primitive.”
“Done by the Nameless One?” Cilla demanded.
I had edged closer to the pit and now thrust at the meat as if delivering a death blow. The stone tip pierced the roast easily. I held up the knife in my other hand to squint along its edge.
Tam gave an exclamation and moved closer to the shelf, reaching to pull out a bowl large enough to hold all the meat before me.
“Let us eat—” My words were a suggestion. I stabbed the dangling roast again.
“Can you cut a portion, Bina?” Tam wanted to know as she brought the bowl closer.
“We shall see,” I returned. As had all of us, I had received instruction in household arts, but the handling of meat straight from the fire was usually the duty of a kitchen-man or an assistant cook.
The portion I hacked off with the stone knife—it did have a surprisingly sharp edge—we took back to where the other stores were placed, below the queer blind figures. There we ate, mainly with fingers, as we had before, with additions from the shelves.
This time we remembered our manners and carried empty containers and the like to be washed at the stream, discovering that, the nearer to the falls we approached, the warmer the water was. When we returned them to their proper places, we settled cross-legged on the floor. During this time our host had not appeared, nor had we seen Climber. Whether it was day or night in the outer world, we had no way of telling; nor could we now more than guess how long it had been since we had been taken from Grosper.