Master of the Cauldron

by David Drake

  Garric didn't know whether the spell that paralyzed him had also affected his companions. His body blocked the opening to the vault. Attaper hadn't or couldn't move him out of the way—otherwise he would've.

  Three not-men advanced toward Garric, but for the moment no more rose up through the crack. The right half of the vault's floor lurched, then dropped out of sight, carrying with it the cherub shrieking on his frame of poles. A horde of white monsters, no longer constrained by the narrow passage, filled the darkness beneath. They began climbing.

  The pair of not-men who'd killed the bird now closed on the Countess herself. Her eyes were unfocused, but her lips moved in prayer.

  Both not-men struck Balila in the face. She fell forward, leaving a smear of blood on the rock behind her. A greater pool flooded out to soak her blood hair.

  Dipsas used her athame to stab the creature holding her. Its broad mouth continued to giggle. The goat-legged not-man jabbed its trident into the wizard's throat and twisted. She thrashed in a gout of blood, then went limp. Her corpse continued to dangle from the trident's barbed points.

  Garric could move again.

  He stepped into the trio of not-men, finishing the stroke he'd started a lifetime ago by beheading the creature on his right. The blade carried on to bury itself in the lower spine of the not-man in the center. The creatures' bodies were as solid as those of humans. Garric had struck with the rage that'd bubbled while he was helpless.

  He stepped back and to his right, pulling hard to drag his steel from the not-man's bone. Attaper lunged past, thrusting through the mouth of the third creature before its copper mace hit Garric. The weapon flew from its fingers and rang musically from the wall.

  "Back to the surface!" Garric said. "We can't hold them long, there's too many tunnels. Back to the surface and we'll bring the army over from Volita!"

  Two Blood Eagles shoved through the opening. One had a javelin and both had shields.

  "Retreat!" Garric said. He backed out of the vault as the next wave of white not-men met the soldiers. Several monsters went down in the first flurry, but a stone club dented one man's helmet. "Back to the surface!"

  Garric wasn't worried about staying here to prove his courage. Somebody had to take command against the danger, and he was the only one who really understood what was happening.

  The remainder of the vault's floor fell inward, exposing a pit that seethed with monsters the way maggots squirm in rotting liver. They climbed upward, holding weapons in their hands; those that had hands.

  In the midst of them, sitting on a litter made of human bones, was a gray, wizened figure. Though it was nude, Garric couldn't guess at its sex. It was chanting words of power and beating time with a tourmaline athame: the wizard who'd led the invasion a thousand years before had been trapped in the earth with his creations. He was returning with their descendents.

  "To the surface!" Garric bellowed. Liane's hand was on his shoulder, tugging him back. "To the surface fast!"

  Or may the Lady save us, for we'll never be able to save ourselves in this warren of darkness.

  * * *

  Davus reached down with his right hand. Ilna took it and let him swing her onto the cliff's edge. He was, as she'd expected, extremely strong.

  "Bring me the jewel!" Arrea cried. "The jewel is mine as the whole world will be mine!"

  "Master Chalcus," Davus said, "she's returned safely. You can turn now while I watch our front—"

  Chalcus turned and caught Ilna in his arms. His face was as set in lines as hard as a sea-washed crag.

  "—if you choose," Davus concluded, by now laughing.

  "I never doubted you'd succeed," Chalcus said. His hands were locked on her waist. He wasn't squeezing her, but Ilna doubted she could've pried his fingers apart if she'd tried. "Never in my life did I doubt that, dear one. But I'm glad you're back."

  "Yes," said Ilna. "So am I."

  Though when I looked over my shoulder at the bird, she added silently, I certainly doubted.

  Perhaps thinking the same thing, Chalcus leaned over the edge of the cliff. Ilna looked down also, aware of the sailor's grip. She was less likely to fall than if she'd been tied to a tree with an anchor cable.

  The great bird floated upside down in the sea; its belly was a sulfurous yellow. Fish were nosing into the corpse. Some of them had worked through the feathers, because blood was beginning to cloud the pastel sea.

  "The jewel!" Arrea shrieked. "The jewel!"

  Chalcus turned with a fey smile. Davus had looped the sash back about his waist. The men's eyes met as Ilna glanced between them.

  "That was a fine shot you made this day," Chalcus said. "And never a better time to have made it, I think. Call on me if you've a wish, and you'll have it if it's in my power to grant."

  "And a considerable power that is," said Davus with a nod. "But first things first, and your Lady Merota is first. Mistress, if you'll give me the jewel?"

  Ilna lifted the gleaming stone from her tunic. It was bubble-light in her hands, but when Davus took it from her she felt a great weight pass from her soul.

  "The jewel!" Arrea said. Her eyes glinted brighter than sunlight filtered into the shadowed alcove could account. She began to chant under her breath, mouthing a spell.

  Davus walked toward the half-blocked entrance, holding the jewel out in his left hand. "The jewel in exchange for our passage, Arrea," he said in a hard, distant voice. "That is the bargain I offer you. Come out and take the jewel."

  "Give me the jewel now!" Arrea said. "I'll blast the flesh from your bones, I'll fill your marrow with liquid fire!"

  "You may do all those things," said Davus, halting a double-pace from the low wall and the woman behind it. Ilna and Chalcus were to his right and left.

  The sailor's hands were open, emphasizing that he wasn't holding his weapons; Ilna's fingers knotted cords within her cupped palms. Davus knew what he was doing so he was in charge, but they'd act if the situation started to spin out of control. If it wasn't already out of control....

  "You may do all those things," Davus repeated, "but you must come out from your cave and give us passage. Do you think to command me while I hold this, Arrea?"

  He tossed the shimmering jewel in the air and caught it one-handed. He was grinning.

  Arrea said nothing, but her whole form quivered. Ilna waited, her face perfectly blank. She had no idea of what was about to happen, but something—

  Davus tossed the jewel up again. Arrea crashed through the masonry wall, scattering the blocks. Her human head and torso were joined to the body of a serpent so large that it filled the tunnel beyond.

  No wonder Davus said that beheading Arrea wouldn't gain them a way into the Citadel. That mass of flesh rotting would be as complete a barrier as the rock itself.

  "Come out, Arrea, come out," Davus said cheerfully, tossing the jewel and catching it. "When you've opened us the passage, I'll give you the price you claim. As I swore."

  As Davus spoke he stepped back and toward Ilna. She scrambled away, hoping she wouldn't manage to stumble over the cliff while her attention was on the monster.

  "What is that thing, Master Davus?" said Chalcus. "What in the name of all Gods is she?"

  More loops of Arrea's massive body curled out of the cave. Her scales broke sunlight into a rainbow haze; each was as broad as a spread hand.

  "Arrea was a snake, no more than the scaly friend who keeps your hut free of rats," said Davus, continuing to sidle to his left as he tossed and caught the jewel. "But she found her place here beneath the Citadel and held it against her fellows, soaking in the power that trickled down through the passage. And in time she was not a snake but an echidna, a snake that hates humans because she wishes she were human. Yet she will give us passage."

  The creature was following him. Ilna remembered winding a wire worm out of a sore, taking it up slowly on a straw until she'd removed the worm's full length and could swab the festering wound with spirits.

  "Giv
e me...," Arrea said, her voice an inhuman buzz like someone trying to form words with a bone rattle. Her tail squirmed clear of the tunnel mouth. She was as long as a trireme, but even so the serpent body seemed heavy. The ground shuddered as her weight slid over it. "... the jewel."

  Davus had brought them circling around to the entrance. The echidna's body lay in a great loop along the cliff edge, virtually penning Ilna and her companions against the face of the Citadel.

  "You've kept your bargain," Davus said approvingly. "And I will keep mine."

  He tossed the jewel to Arrea. She caught it with hands that seemed absurdly tiny now that the full body was visible.

  Davus gestured toward the tunnel mouth. "The two of you can start up, now," he said. "I'll stay here—"

  "I've given you passage," Arrea cried. She set the jewel on her human-looking head; it clung there, much as it had to the larva which Ilna took it from. "I gave you passage, and now I'll kill you!"

  Chalcus started forward, light trembling on his sword blade. Davus touched his arm and Ilna's both, saying, "No. Wait."

  "Aleo," Arrea chanted. "Sambethor basultha...."

  She pointed her right hand toward the humans.

  "Erchonsi!" she shouted and began to laugh.

  The jewel flashed brighter than the sun. It shivered and shrank without losing brilliance. Arrea's triumphant laughter turned to a high-pitched scream.

  "In truth, it's an object of great power just as Arrea thought," Davus said. He sounded calm but Ilna could feel his fingertips trembling on her forearm. "But it's an egg, not dead crystal. The King wears such a jewel that's been properly prepared; it gives him power like no other in this land. But using using the egg for wizardry without preparing it first—"

  The jewel had shrunk to a wire-fine glitter extending from Arrea's forehead. It vanished down the hole it'd bored into the echidna's skull.

  "—causes it to hatch."

  The serpent body gave a convulsive twitch. A loop rolled over the edge of the cliff, its weight pulling more loops after it. The whole echidna slid over with a rolling crackle and a cloud of broken rock.

  "In time," Davus said, lowering his arms, "the hatchling will grow into a creature like the one in the Citadel now. A creature like the New King."

  The echidna struck the water loop by loop, sending a long column of spray to dance above the crumbled cliff. For a long moment, Ilna could hear nothing but the waves.

  "Let's go," Chalcus said quietly. He started to sheathe his sword, then paused and closed his eyes. Only when he'd opened them again did he slide the blade home. He whispered, "I hate snakes."

  "Only the two of you," Davus said calmly. "I'll stay here at the tunnel mouth or another snake will take up residence. The power calls them, you see. It calls them to a treasure beyond the dreams of their scaly minds."

  "But...?" Chalcus said.

  "Go," Davus said. "Merota is your friend. And I must be here if we're to succeed."

  "All right," said Ilna. She'd picked her yarn out and replaced it in her sleeve. With her back straight and her head high, she entered the tunnel.

  She didn't know what was waiting at the top. Now that she knew what the New King had grown from, though, nothing but her sense of duty would have sent her to face it.

  Ilna smiled wryly. If she'd believed in the Great Gods, she'd have thanked them for that sense of duty.

  * * *

  Sharina lay like a rolled carpet in the bottom of the boat, slowly getting her breath back. All she could see was the sky, the vessel's curved bronze sides, and the men in aboard with her.

  Her head was toward the bow. Though she heard Hani chanting words of power, she couldn't see him without twisting around uncomfortably. There was nothing about the wizard that would've justified her strain.

  The hull hummed like a taut line in a breeze. Sharina might not have noticed it through her thick sandals if she'd been standing, but lying down the vibration was more uncomfortable than the aftereffects of hitting the tree.

  The People paid her no attention. They looked out over the landscape, rarely moving even their heads and not speaking that she heard.

  The two humans who'd lifted her aboard were another matter. "Pretty little blonde thing, isn't she?" said the man with the slit nose. He giggled. "I like blondes."

  "You like anything, Wilfus," said the taller man who was missing fingers. "I've seen you, remember?"

  "Yeah?" said Wilfus, flashing suddenly hot. "Well, at least I stick to living ones, don't I? Which is more than some people can say!"

  "Ah, shut up," muttered the tall man. "I was drunk, that's all."

  Wilfus sniggered again, making his nostrils quiver oddly. "Well," he said, bending to fondle Sharina. "This one's alive, anyhow."

  Sharina thrashed at him as best she could with her ankles tied to her wrists. Wilfus' face settled into a hideous snarl. He stepped back and kicked her thigh in response. He was wearing velvet slippers, but Sharina would've preferred hobnails to the touch of Wilfus' fingers.

  Bolor was in the stern with two somewhat older men, more likely colleagues than retainers. Sharina saw him grimace. She shouted, "Is this how the bor-Warrimans treat noblewomen, then?"

  Bolor flushed. "That's enough, Wilfus!" he said.

  The taller thug turned and snarled, "You can't give us orders, Bolor! We're as good as you!"

  Bolor stepped forward. The thug tried to dodge but bumped into Wilfus. Bolor hit him in the face with his clenched fist, knocking him down. Sharina twitched her legs up so that he didn't land on her.

  Bolor smiled grimly, rubbing his knuckles with his left hand. One of his companions had drawn his sword. "Hani may need you, Mogon," Bolor said. "I don't. Next time you can try breathing through the top of your neck."

  The older man who hadn't drawn his sword hooked his thumb toward Wilfus. "You two trade places with us," he said in a gravelly voice. "Now!"

  The thugs shuffled sternward along the starboard side of the hull while Bolor and his companions moved up to port. The man with his sword in his hand watched Wilfus and Mogon closely, but Bolor and the other noble who'd spoken knelt on either side of Sharina to lift her into a sitting position.

  "I can't—" she said, but Bolor already had his dagger out. He cut the cord linking her wrists and ankles, then after a moment's hesitation freed her ankles as well. She stood up, careful because she was so stiff.

  The People appeared to take no interest. The wizard in the bow said nothing either. He may not even have noticed; the effort of keeping them airborne must take most of his energy.

  Sharina looked forward. The boat was travelling as fast as a horse could trot. Just ahead was the long, low building she'd seen as she sailed down onto the island. This side was a blank stone wall instead of a colonnade like that opening onto the lake.

  She turned to Bolor again. "Thank you for that," she said with a curt nod to the thugs glowering in the stern. Mogon was dabbing at his bleeding lips.

  "Those two served the Queen," said the man with his sword still out. "There's more of them that've joined us. Too many, I'd say."

  "Why did you come here, milady?" Bolor said. He looked angry and embarrassed. Sharina noticed that though he didn't say, "Your highness," he nonetheless gave her the honorific due a fellow noble.

  "I accompanied your uncle, Lord Waldron," she said. "He's hoping to talk sense into you and avoid bloodshed."

  Valgard had been as silent as the People. Now he turned his head and examined Sharina expressionlessly. He still didn't speak.

  "There won't be bloodshed," Bolor said harshly. "The people are rising to support the true King of the Isles, Valgard son of Valence. There won't be a fight because there won't be anybody standing with the usurper Garric!"

  Sharina shrugged. Bolor's very vehemence proved he knew better than that. "People like your friend Wilfus support Valgard, you mean?" she said.

  "Others as well, milady," said the man who'd ordered the thugs to the stern. His voice was calm and pe
rhaps a little tired. "Ornifal isn't to be ruled by a usurper when there's a true prince of the royal line present."

  Bolor glanced at him and grimaced. He looked embarrassed again. Obviously he didn't know how to treat a prisoner for whom he felt more respect than he did his allies. After a moment's further hesitation he said, "Calran bor-Ranciman. And his cousin Lattus thinks it's worthwhile to watch the dirt in the stern."

  Lattus turned, sheathing his sword with a clack of cross-guard against the lip of the scabbard. "They could still bite, you know," he grumbled to Bolor.

  Sharina was frightened and her whole left side throbbed. Standing and keeping her balance was even more painful than lying in the bottom of the boat, though she knew moving was the best way to get her strength and coordination back. Similarly, she knew she was better off acting like a princess before these rebel noblemen than she would be letting them know she was hurt and afraid. So—

  "And does Valgard speak?" she said, glaring at the claimant.

  "When there's need for speech, I speak," Valgard said. He had a deep voice, well in keeping with his powerful frame, but it lacked fire. His words were a flat statement without the sneer that would've made them a gibe at Sharina's frightened talkiness....

  The boat curved around the end of the building; the plaza in front extended into the lake. The keel was over the water for a moment. Sharina looked down as a fish jumped, but the ripples of their passage kept her from seeing what had driven it into the air.

  Hani lowered his arms; the boat settled with a bell note louder than she'd expected from the keel's gentle contact with the pavement of stone blocks. The wizard turned, fatigue in every line but his eyes madly bright.

  Sharina suddenly wondered just how old Hani was. Middle-aged she'd thought when he looked down at her from the bow of the boat, but there was a hint of something as ageless as black diamonds in those glinting eyes.

  "Bring her out," Hani said. "I think she'll be useful later."

  He giggled and added, "Or at least her bones will, eh?"

  Mogon and Wilfus didn't move, but a pair of People stepped close to lift Sharina by the elbows. She backed as much as she could and said to the wizard, "Cut my hands loose and I'll get down by myself. Or are you afraid I'll wring your neck if my hands are free?"