by Dave Duncan
"And how are your teeth? Any fillings?"
"Two."
"Pity.” Creighton stretched out on the lower bunk in his underwear.
"Are those necessary qualifications in recruits to the Service?” Edward clambered into the upper berth, banging his head in the process. Even with the windows open, the wagon was stuffily hot.
"Very much so,” said a smug voice from below him. “A knack for languages helps. How many can you speak?"
"Usual school set: French, Latin, Greek. A bit of German."
"You took the medal in German. How about African?"
"Bantu."
"Which Bantu?"
"Embu, of course, and Kikuyu. A smattering of Meru and Swahili.” That sounded like bragging, so he added, “Once you've got a couple of them, the others come easily. Anyone can read Italian or Spanish if he knows French and Latin."
Creighton chuckled at something. “A faculty for language helps, but you're far too young. If it wasn't for the Filoby Testament, I'd throw you back. I was looking for men in their fifties or sixties. Women even better. Didn't find any."
In five minutes the man was snoring.
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37
DRAGONS HAD A NOTORIOUS DISLIKE OF WATER, BUT when Dragontrader had coaxed Starlight to cross Narshwater, the others had followed. He had relegated Sister Ahn to the fourth mount, named Blaze, and insisted that her sword be bound to its pack. There had been another fight over that, but she had yielded when he pointed out that the hilt would still be within her reach.
"What pass is this?” Eleal asked wonderingly as the procession raced northward over the grassy hills of Narshslope.
"No pass,” he growled. He was still mad. “Dragons don't need passes. Your hill straps all right?"
She nodded. In fact the belt was uncomfortably tight, but having seen Starlight scramble down a temple wall, she had a strong suspicion she was going to need it.
The sun was climbing higher, shedding real heat. Soon a valley enclosed them, providing shelter from the wind, and she began to feel warm—a rare sensation in Narshvale. A few hours’ sleep would be nice, and she remembered Gim's remark about the bread shop in Morby with regret, but obviously the fugitives must hurry on their way. The Narsh guard would discover Sister Ahn's deception soon enough.
Dragons in motion spread out and she had no one to talk with. The saddle had begun to chafe already. Yesterday at this time she had just begun plucking chickens—she cocked a mental snoot at the temple. Pluck your own fowls, Mother Ylla! The day before, the oracle had spoken, and the day before that she had unmasked Dolm. On Ankleday she had been an aspiring actor looking forward to a ride on a mammoth. Life had been very simple back then.
For half an hour or so the fugitives raced up a brush-filled valley, climbing steeply alongside rapids and waterfalls. Trees were rare in Narshvale, and no other obstacle was a hindrance to dragons. Eventually the valley curved off T'lin Dragontrader's preferred path; he put Starlight at the slope. At the top, he called a halt to let the mounts catch their breath, and they automatically closed up near one another.
Eleal was astonished how high they were already—perched on a windy, grassy ridge with all of Narshland spread out before them, cupped within the icy peaks of Narshwall and dappled by shadows of clouds. Even in summer it was more tawny than green; hard country good only for grazing. Here and there she saw the scars of mines. Gim was staring at it all openmouthed.
"Never seen it like this before?” she asked.
He shook his turbaned head. “I'm not like you. I've never been anywhere! Well, I've been everywhere down there.” He waved at the valley. “We go on picnics sometimes, Mom and Dad and the girls and me. Thunder Falls, up there. Daisy Meadow over there. You know, you can walk across the whole land and back in a day, if you own some good boots. You can walk from one end to the other in two days—Dad did, once."
Eleal would not want to try that, but a strong man probably could. “There are smaller vales,” she said helpfully. “And some larger. In Joalvale there are places there where you can hardly see mountains at all!"
Gim looked suitably impressed. “Sussland is much bigger, isn't it?"
"It's broader,” she said. “Not much longer, maybe. Lower, hotter."
"Tell me about the festival,” Gim said, but mention of their destination had reminded Eleal that she had prophecies to fulfill.
Sister Ahn was sitting as erect as she could on Blaze, one gnarled hand behind her, clutching her precious sword. Her haggard face seemed relatively content and unthreatening. Before Eleal could question her, though, T'lin Dragontrader intervened.
"Sister, I don't suppose your prophecies tell you which is the best way through this?” He waved irritably at the jagged rock and ice filling the northward sky—gray and white, with hardly a speck of green in view anywhere.
"No."
"Or whether Ois will contest our passage?"
"She may.” The nun sniffed. “She wishes to stop Eleal and myself, but you and the boy may die also. I cannot say."
T'lin uttered his inevitable snort. “Religion is such a comfort in times of need!"
"Holy Tion will shield us,” Gim said devoutly. “We are pilgrims to his festival."
"Indeed?” For the first time, Ahn showed some interest in him. “You plan to play your lyre for the god?"
"I'll enter if Dragontrader will permit me to."
T'lin snorted again. “Think you can win a rose, do you?"
"Oh, no!” Gim looked down at his boots and mumbled, “I'd be honored just to try."
The red beard parted in a toothy smile. “You might win the gold one."
The idea had occurred to Eleal a moment before T'lin spoke. Gim turned his face away quickly and said nothing.
The dragon trader shrugged, apparently regretting his ridicule. “Oh, never mind. I think we'll try for that gap there. Looks like a good place to be eaten by snow tigers."
Eleal saw her chance. “Sister, will you tell me now what is going to happen in Sussland?"
The old woman frowned, and then nodded. “Certainly! In fact I should probably give you some instructions as soon as possible, because the holy testament does not specify exactly which day the wonderful event will occur."
"Instructions?"
"Yes. There may not be time after we arrive, you see? Unless you are already experienced, of course."
"Experienced in what?"
At that moment T'lin shouted, “Zomph!” and Eleal was thrown back against the baggage plate as the dragons flashed into high speed. Whatever Sister Ahn said was lost in the wind.
The ridge curved as the valley had done; T'lin led his troupe down a steep slope and straight up the other side. Dragons were in their element in mountain terrain. Roaring with excitement, they raced one another up hills and slid down long scree slopes in showers of gravel. Eleal understood then why they stayed so far apart, and she also realized this crossing might take much less time than the plodding mammoths needed for their long trek over Rilepass. Soon the air grew cold, although the wind was not as fierce as she would have expected. Even grass became rare and gray stone stretched out everywhere.
Starlight was chief dragon, but he labored under T'lin's substantial weight. With his much lighter burden, Lightning took to challenging him for the lead position, and then the pace became fierce indeed. As T'lin had said, the old dun was wily, with a good eye for the easiest routes. The two females, Blaze and Beauty, scorned to play such foolish games and were soon left far behind.
Eventually they vanished altogether, and T'lin called a halt. Eleal rode up beside him. Starlight and Lightning belched weakly at each other, puffing clouds of steam into the wind. The dragon trader himself was flushed and grinning.
"You know what that is, Jewel of the Mountains?” He gestured at a wall of dirty white blocking the valley ahead from side to side. It was bleeding a torrent of frothy green water.
"It remarkably resembles snow, but I a
m sure you would not have asked if the answer was so obvious."
He nodded, uncorking his canteen. “It's an old avalanche."
Eleal looked around uneasily. On either side the valley walls rose in cliffs and scarps and impossible slopes, mostly still mantled with winter snow. At the top sunlight glinted on parapets of ice, a white frame around deep blue sky.
"Meaning this place is dangerous?"
He took a long drink. He nodded as he wiped his mouth. “If Ois wants it to be. Listen!"
She listened. There was only the dragons’ puffing and the chatter of the stream and ... a distant rumble of thunder?
"There goes another!” T'lin said with an unconvincing smirk.
They peered around, but the wall of snow prevented a proper view of the valley ahead.
"We should ride along the top,” she said. “Then nothing can fall on us."
"It might fall on us as we went up. It might fall when we were on top of it. Praise the goddess.” T'lin sighed, staring back the way they had come. “What does holy scripture tell us about squabbles between the gods?"
"Scripture I leave to the priests. I can tell you what happens in drama, though."
"So what happens in drama, Embodiment of Ember'l?"
"They usually appeal to the Parent."
"And what happens then, Wisdom?” His green eyes fixed on her with a quizzical expression she could not read.
"He sends them away. That's in Act One. In Act Three he renders judgment. Then we all come out and bow and pass the plate again."
Dragontrader busied himself replacing his canteen in his pack.
"You think that's what's happening?” she asked. “You think the Lady has gone to appeal to Visek?"
He shrugged and smiled. “I am only a humble dragon trader. You are the fountain of the arts, the Avatar of Astina. If you don't know, then what mortal can understand the gods?"
She thought over all the tragedies she could remember. “Prophecy's one of Visek's attributes. Being god of destiny, he will not allow the others to block the fulfillment!"
"Truly your insight is comforting. Have you discovered yet what the prophecy prophesies for you?"
"No. Sister Ahn was about to tell me at the last stop, and you interrupted.” And he had done so deliberately.
"It says that during the seven hundredth Festival of Tion—that's now, starting tonight—that the Liberator will be born.” T'lin raised a coppery eyebrow to ask what Eleal thought about that.
"Who's the Liberator?"
"His name is not given. He is the son of Kameron Kisster."
"Who's he, and what's a Kisster?"
The dragon trader shrugged his bulky shoulders. “I do not know these things! Perhaps it is all his given name—Kameron-kisster?"
Eleal searched his face for signs that he was making all this up, in some stupid, stupid game. T'lin might, but Sister Ahn had displayed no signs of a sense of humor, and reapers had to be taken seriously.
"Who or what does the Liberator liberate?"
"And from whom? Or from what? That is not so clear at all. The Testament implies he will be very, very important, but it sort of takes that for granted and does not say how, except for one sort of hint."
"What sort of hint?” she snapped.
"It implies he will kill Death."
"I think I would class that as an important act."
"It probably doesn't mean what it seems to mean, though. What it does say is that he will be born sometime in the next few days, in Sussvale."
T'lin had not known this in Embiliina Sculptor's kitchen, or at least had not admitted knowing it. His obvious amusement was very irritating.
"And what does it say about me?” she demanded crossly.
"Ah. Here come the others now."
"You are being deliberately aggravating!” Eleal said in Ambria's most disapproving tone.
He stroked his red beard. “I think I would wager that you do not have the right sort of experience. You had best take those lessons from the old hag at the earliest possible opportunity."
"Lesson in what?” Eleal demanded through clenched teeth.
"Delivering babies."
"What!?"
"That is correct, Beloved of the Gods. Naked and crying he shall come into the world and Eleal shall wash him. She shall clothe him and nurse him and comfort him. That's what it says about you.” T'lin shook with silent mirth, so that Starlight turned his head around and peered at him curiously. “I don't suppose ‘nursing’ means ‘suckling,’ unless there are some miracles mentioned I missed."
Personage of Historic Importance?
"That's all? There isn't any more? I don't believe you! Why would I be threatened by a reaper and imprisoned for life by a goddess if all I'm going to do is help some woman have a baby?” Let Kameronkisster go hire a midwife!
"But a very important baby! Even I was small and helpless when I was born. Beautiful, of course, because of my beard. All the witnesses agreed that they had never seen so—"
"So that's where you went last night? That's why you weren't at the camp when Gim and I arrived. You went to visit someone who has a copy of the Testament?"
Seeing a glint of suspicion in Dragontrader's eye, Eleal hastily added, “Some rancher friend, I suppose—outside the city?"
"A very shrewd guess, Goddess of Curiosity."
"There isn't any more about me, or you didn't have time to read any more?"
The other two dragons were closing in, puffing.
T'lin chuckled. “All right! No, I didn't have time to read the whole thing, or anything like the whole thing. It's a terrible jumble. There may be more about you in there—I don't know.” He turned Starlight to face the newcomers.
That, she decided, was better.
Delivering babies? Yuu-uck!
A little later, walking their heated mounts up the valley, they saw an avalanche descend in white smoke and, later, thunder. It did not come close. Just a warning, Eleal thought, a sign that the Lady was still angry. She made the sign of Tion, and probably Gim did also. Sister Ahn clasped her hands in a prayer to Astina. T'lin made a gesture Eleal did not quite see.
The ascent out of the gorge was almost vertical, it ended in a scramble up a face of sheer ice. Nothing but a dragon could have gone that way, except birds. The surface of the glacier was a jagged nightmare, blindingly bright and swept by a cruel wind. It formed a saddle between two jagged peaks, and the mountains ahead were lower.
Soon it dipped. It dipped more steeply. Then Lightning launched himself like a toboggan and went sweeping off with Eleal screaming, “Zappan!” on his back and T'lin shouts of warning fading in the distance. She was too scared even to close her eyes. Cold wind rushed past, peppering her face with gritty snowflakes. Faster and faster, and she had heart-stopping visions of hurtling out over a precipice.
She did not. The crafty old dragon seemed to know what he was doing. He came to rest in a flat snowfield far below, belching contentedly to himself and twisting his long neck to watch the others follow the trail he had laid out.
"When we get to Sussland, lizard,” Eleal said grimly, “I shall take off these accursed leggings and strangle you with them."
Going down was usually faster than going up, but Eleal—as an experienced traveler—knew that this descent would take longer than the climb, because Sussland lay so much lower than Narshland. Yet soon the snow had been left behind and what had seemed to be more snow ahead turned out to be the tops of clouds. Mist crept in on every hand, transforming the sun to a glowing silver disk and the world itself to a circle of rock no larger than the amphitheater at Suss. Always the dragons headed downward; the air grew steadily warmer and damper. The dragons had a discerning eye for the easiest path, although several times Eleal found herself leaning on the pommel plate and staring straight down while Lightning negotiated a near-vertical face. Once he turned around and descended backward, as Starlight had at the temple.
Grass appeared and eventually straggly shrubs, silv
ery with dew. It was still not yet noon when the first blighted trees emerged from the fog and T'lin called Starlight to a halt. The other dragons closed in, scales shining wetly, breath cloudy.
"Looks like a good spot for lunch,” he said. “Strip off the tack and let them graze, Wrangler. Food's in that pack. Wosok!"
T'lin was in a good mood. He helped Sister Ahn dismount. She was probably too stiff to have managed by herself, although she did not utter as much as a wince. He retrieved her sword and attached it to her belt; then he escorted her over to the little stream where Eleal was already gulping ice-cold water.
With both men thus occupied, Eleal slipped off into the rocks to make some necessary adjustments. Already she was far too hot, and in Sussland itself the heat would be stifling. She removed her wool sweater, replaced the smock and coat, and headed back to see what Gim was unpacking.
With the suddenness of a cock crow, the sun's disk brightened. The sky turned from white to blue as if the gods had drawn back curtains. The mist dispersed and Sussland was laid out far below like a painting, framed between two massive cliffs. Gim was kneeling with a loaf of bread forgotten in his hands, staring openmouthed.
"There it is,” Eleal said cheerfully. “Green, isn't it? Suss itself is over there. I don't suppose you can make out the city, but that bright spot is sunlight on the roof of the temple. It's gold, you know. The gap in the mountains beyond is Monpass, to Joalvale. I've been over that one lots of times. The place in the middle with all the trees is Ruatvil, but that's mostly ruins. I know—I've been there. The Thargians still call this Ruatland, did you know that? The gorge is Susswater. It's a much bigger river than Narshwater, and it flows west, not east. There's only two places you can cross it. Filoby is over there.” She pointed to the right, although she suspected that Filoby itself might be behind the mountain.
Gim nodded, then sprang back into motion as T'lin came striding over. Eleal turned to him.
"We're coming down right on top of Thogwalby, Dragontrader."
"Or will do, if we can find a way through the forest.” He flopped down on the grass and produced his knife. As he reached for the bread, Eleal sat down also.
"Aren't you going to say grace?"