by Adrian Cole
'Nothing until now.’
'You came here by chance?’
'A rockfall.’
'The fleshworms do not hunt for food. They eat only the flesh that their masters give them, and it is not wise to dwell on such things. Very few overmen have ever come down to the delvings. Those that have were dead before my people found their remains, if not taken away to the Children of the Mound. The fleshworms are collectors. They burrow and search, dragging back what they find.’
'This Mound, is it in the east?’ said Brannog.
Ygromm hissed. ‘You know it?’
'I have been told of a great evil there.’
'You have been told the very truth. Slowly this evil is eating out the heart of the world, driving the Earthwrought and all others further and further away from their homes, and deeper and deeper into the earth. We are countless delvings away from our home. The Children of the Mound hunt us with a single purpose, to destroy us. They send far worse than the fleshworms against us. Is it not so above ground?’
Brannog was astounded. Korbillian had said that the Mound had no intelligence, but was like a terrible disease. What Ygromm had said seemed to make matters far worse. ‘Not in my home,’ said Brannog. ‘But the Mound is far away, is it not?’
'Yes. But do overmen not know of its dangers, its growth?’
'Some do. And already they are seeking to prepare the world above.’
'And you?’
Brannog hesitated. He had no way of knowing whether he could trust these people. To tell them of his quest might not be wise. ‘I seek to raise men who will oppose the eastern evil. Many will not believe it.’
Ygromm seemed pleased with the answer. There was a good deal of deliberation among the Earthwrought. It certainly appeared that they were in awe of Brannog's slaying of the fleshworm.
Ygromm had come to a decision. ‘We must take you before the Earthwise. He will know what must be done.’ Brannog made no objections and instead let the strange beings lead him away from the scene of the fight.
They were descending at once, and by the eerie glow from the Earthwrought, Brannog saw that they were no longer in natural fissures in the rock, but in tunnels that had been excavated in the stone and earth like the workings of vast earthworms. Ygromm made occasional comments, though the journey was evidently a secret one, and one carried out in fear. Ygromm told Brannog that other beings had made these delvings centuries before, but that they had long since died out. The Earthwrought went in silence, their ugly faces deep in concentration, and they listened out constantly for sounds that Brannog could not hear. Time had no proportions in the winding, endless burrows, some of which were narrow and cramped, others of which looked to have been dug by giants. At last they reached a large chamber. At one end there was a raised, flattened area, and beyond it a number of small tunnels that were far too small to admit anyone of Brannog's build. Ygromm called a halt and the Earthwrought arranged themselves expectantly before the raised area.
'I have sent word ahead,’ Ygromm told Brannog. ‘The Earthwise will come soon. Do you need food or drink?’
Brannog tapped his pack. ‘No.’ He wondered what these beings could possibly find to eat in such a place as this.
'Do these delvings travel under all of Omara?’ he asked Ygromm.
'Somewhere in the histories, it will be written down. But you will have to ask the Earthwise. He is our keeper of the Earthlore, and only he of our clan has access to the histories. He will have many questions to ask you, overman. But you are not an enemy, I think.’
Brannog smiled, but did not reply. He did not have long to wait for his audience, for from one of the tunnels above the raised area came a number of Earthwrought. Unlike others he had seen, these wore leather harness and were armed with curled weapons (Brannog thought made of wood) and with them came a being that was at least half as tall again as his fellows. He sat down cross-legged and as he did so, the entire company did likewise, issuing as they did a salutation. Ygromm motioned Brannog to sit also, though he towered above those around him. The Earthwise bowed, then looked straight at Brannog. In spite of his extraordinary features (no less ugly than the other members of his race) there was a depth of intelligence to his gaze.
'Welcome, overman. They tell me you have slain a fleshworm.’
'It sought my life.’
'Yet you killed it alone. May I see the weapon that you used?’
Brannog held up his axe. It was still thick with the blood of the slain fleshworm. Brannog was aware of the peculiar reverence that the people around him felt for the axe. It had almost become to them a holy relic. ‘I will use it again on the fleshworms, or any other such monsters that live in the earth,’ he said, hoping to meet with favour.
The Earthwise nodded solemnly. ‘Then we are in your debt. So far, in this remote region, there are thankfully very few servants of the Children of the Mound. But to the east, where we belong, they are like maggots. Unless they are checked, they will come here, and go beyond. And one day, overman, they will have to go upwards into the light for their prey. Then your own people will be in danger. I have heard of cities beyond the Silences, the great deserts of the east, which have already fallen to the Children of the Mound.’
'I am largely ignorant of these things,’ Brannog admitted. ‘Until recently I was a simple fisherman, living in a small village west of the mountains. Neither my people nor I had heard of the Mound until a strange man came to us, a man who claimed to possess power.’ Brannog paused to see whether his allusion to power would impress the Earthwrought, but they were silent, as though he had said nothing unusual. The Earthwise seemed to control their reactions, though, as he waited to hear more. ‘Since power of the kind he described is not known to Omara, we were not sure how to treat this man. He calls himself Korbillian, and he claims to come not from Omara, but from another world, the world of Ternannoc.’
This time the Earthwise reacted, stunned, and there was a growling among his people. ‘Ternannoc!’ he cried. ‘It is said that the evil of the Mound came from that place.’
'Korbillian swears that his purpose is to destroy the Mound, but he must have help, the help of as many of our people as he can muster. Even now he journeys eastward, searching for the Mound.’
'He is crossing these mountains?’
'Yes. I am searching for him.’
'To join him?’
'Yes.’
'Why did you not journey with him initially?’
The perceptive question caught Brannog for a moment but he kept his wits about him. ‘Other men came to my village after him. They call themselves Deliverers.’
'I know of them,’ nodded the Earthwise.
'Do they serve the Children of the Mound?’
'No. They serve only the Direkeep and its lord, the Preserver.’
'They apparently seek to destroy all power, or at least, all belief in it, and belief in all gods. This is strange, as Omarans have no gods.’
'The Deliverers are fanatics,’ said the Earthwise.
'Those who came to my village were led by a man called Wargallow.’
Again the Earthwise looked shocked. ‘Indeed! Is he also above?’
'You know him?’
'Yes, and he knows the Earthwrought. He is responsible for the torture and murder of a number of our people.’
'But why?’
'He seeks to learn more of our lore, our homes. But he has not found a way to us. He hates us, as we do accept power, overman. For us, it is real I will not explain it to you. But when the Preserver learns of gods and of power, and his ears are acute on all Omara, he sends his fury against it. He will not allow power. There is a long history attached to this, some of which you must hear, I think, for I see before me the coming of the time that others wiser than I have said must come, a time of sharing. But for now, I would hear you speak.’
Brannog nodded. ‘Wargallow seeks Korbillian. Somewhere in the mountains you will find them both. I also seek Korbillian, both to warn him a
nd to strengthen his arm against these Deliverers. They did harm in my village.’
'Did they give blood to the earth?’
Brannog nodded. Still he decided not to reveal that Sisipher was one of Korbillian's party. ‘Can you find these people?’
'Possibly. But we are strangers to these mountains, recently arrived. We do not belong here. We have made a few allies under the earth, but overground it is difficult. It takes time to establish allies there. And there is little life in these cold mountains. Our best chance of finding the men you seek would be when they have crossed the range, if indeed they can do that with so hard a winter raging above us.’
'I have to find them, and soon,’ said Brannog. ‘Will you help me to the surface?’
The Earthwise considered and spoke again after a long pause. ‘We can help you to the surface, and possibly find these men. That in itself would hardly repay you for the death of the fleshworm. I think it is time for greater decisions to be taken. I spoke just now of our histories. We have many, and many legends have grown up beside them in Earthwrought lore. Opinion among the leading lore keepers of our various clans is divided as to the past and as to how we should approach the future as a nation. I am not a great leader among the Earthwise, but I foresee terrible years to come. I see us pursued by the Children of the Mound, deeper into the wildernesses and further underground to where the stone boils. We cannot flee forever. We have to fight. Alone, we would perish, and the Earthwrought would be dust, not even a memory.’
Brannog could feel the grim weight of sadness around him. None of the Earthwrought here disputed the truths that were being aired before them. They had lived with them for too long.
'Now it is not only our nation that is threatened. I believe it is all life on Omara. This man Korbillian who you say comes to call men together, he is right. Overmen must fight beside each other and beside them must the Earthwrought stand. It is said in some of our very ancient writings that the Earthwrought once lived above ground in cities, but that we were driven under the earth by enemies, invaders from some other world, possibly the Ternannoc you have spoken of. We became the Earthwrought, only to be harassed by the Children of the Mound. Some legends speak of a time of sharing, when we must again rise to the surface and fight for what we once had there. Some believe that our way lies deeper below, while others believe our way lies upward, to the light we once knew. But few overmen know of us, and would sell us to the Deliverers. Yet you have not come to us as an enemy. What then?’
Ygromm stood up unexpectedly. ‘Let me go with him, Earthwise! I will fight beside Brannog Wormslayer!’
For a moment there was complete silence, and Brannog thought that the Earthwise might scold Ygromm for his outburst. But he was not the first to speak. Others had leapt up, waving their stones, calling out that they, too, wanted to go with Brannog. To Brannog's amazement, there seemed to be tears in the eyes of the Earthwise. He waved his arms for quiet, and it was a while before the Earthwrought had settled down.
'We should, perhaps seek the advice of a higher counsel,’ said the Earthwise. ‘But there is no time. Our enemies beset us and in this man you have called Wormslayer lies fresh hope. If he will accept what you have offered, Ygromm, I will bless the sharing.’ He stood up and came to the edge of the earth platform. In his hands he held something that Brannog could not identify, but he held it out. It seemed to be a stone. ‘Brannog, whom the Earthwrought name Wormslayer, will you accept this token of earth power? If you do, then I charge you with the safe keeping of my people, and know that they will protect your life with their own.’
Brannog hesitated. The thought of being a kind of champion to them filled him with unease. What did they expect of him? But he thought of Korbillian and of his wild determination to bring under his banner any man who would stand against the darkness in the east. Brannog took the stone and felt it pulse like a living organ in his hand. He hid it away in his pelts, and as he did so a great cheer rang around the low hall. Ygromm danced up and down like a child, and the Earthwise did nothing to prevent the celebrations of his people.
9
STRANGARTH'S MEN
They spent three days in Ratillic's retreat, waiting for the storm to pass. In that time their host withdrew even more into himself and hardly spoke. His resentment never flared into anger or abuse, but it smouldered. Korbillian also became silent, almost sullen, and any attempt by Sisipher to learn something about his past in respect of Ratillic was not ignored, but bore no fruit. Kirrikree had not returned and the storm blotted out everything beyond the walls. Even Guile, usually so loquacious and cheerful, seemed more thoughtful, brooding, although he never allowed his spirits to sag for long and often tried to make the girl laugh. She had casually tried to draw out of him something more of his past, but he had deliberately erected a defense, and she began to imagine that he must have disgraced himself in Goldenisle and genuinely earned himself demotion. It would not be hard to believe. She also knew, intuitively, that he harboured feelings for her, possibly honourable, but as she had no wish to encourage them, she did not press him too hard in conversation.
Wolgren responded warmly to the girl, his worship the one thing she found readable in any face there, but there was little to talk to him about. She had made a point, however, of saying how much she had loathed Ratillic's eyes upon her when he had asked that she be left with him, and knew that her words would be fuel to Wolgren's fire. Ratillic would never get near her while the youth was close by. Sisipher had asked the boy why he had chosen to come with a complete stranger, although by now she had guessed anyway. He had glimpsed another world beyond the prison of Sundhaven (which is how he had seen the place) and Korbillian had given him his opportunity to visit it. Now, although beset by the same fears that beset all the party, the youth pulsed with suppressed excitement and eagerness. It did Sisipher good to feel it, for she could not avoid the twinges of premonition, of shapeless, dark things that crawled out of the future toward her.
When Kirrikree returned to announce that the storm was over, they almost celebrated. Wolgren, with his usual zest, was in favour of immediate withdrawal, and Ratillic encouraged them to go.
'Kirrikree says,’ Sisipher told them, ‘that we can be across and on the far, lower slopes before the next bad weather.’
Shortly afterwards they renewed their journey. Kirrikree flew high overhead, out of sight, but Sisipher heard his voice from time to time.
'Any news of Wargallow?’ asked Korbillian as they began the ascent of the highest part of the pass.
'His party has been driven northeast by the last storm. None of them died. But they won't get near us now without our knowing,’ Sisipher added. ‘Kirrikree has promised to have them watched. By the time we are out of the mountains, there will be far too much land between us for them to catch us. They came on horses, but the owls have driven them back down to the coast. Perhaps the people of the village will keep them.’
Kirrikree's prediction about the weather proved accurate. By the time they had found their way through the passes and on to the slopes that led away from them to the east, the sky had darkened once more. Spread out beneath them on the slopes, like an endless black sea, the conifers reached up to them. Beyond them they dimmed into mist and somewhere above them, far out across the land, the white owl searched.
Wolgren still led the way, though he had long since passed beyond the boundaries of any earlier visits he had made to these mountains. Korbillian was content to walk behind him, warmed by the boy's enthusiasm. Sisipher and Guile brought up the rear, and now that they were descending, it was less tiring to talk. Even so, she began to sense a growing tension in him.
It was the evening of the third day out of Ratillic's retreat when they came into the first of the trees, and at once Wolgren prepared a fire from loose branches and bark. His ability to look after himself in the wilds was quite surprising. Guile, on the other hand, looked for guidance in most things. Not for the first time Sisipher wondered what possible use he
could be to Korbillian. He had no skill in anything that she was aware of, although she admitted to herself that his wit did have its value.
'Kirrikree's coming,’ she said, knowing that the great owl would arrive so silently that he would frighten them if she had not prepared them. Moments later the white shape swooped above them, something clutched in its claws. The bird came again, dropping the small mammal he had killed for them, then settled near them on a fallen trunk. His huge eyes watched them with an expression of amazement, though Sisipher knew it to be an illusion. Wolgren jumped up and thanked him happily, and the great bird merely blinked. The youth cooked the meat, and Guile was glad to help him. Korbillian studied the bird. ‘He is troubled,’ he said quietly to Sisipher so that the others, preoccupied with the food, would not hear.
'You can tell?’ But she did not wait for an answer. ‘You are right. He says there are many men abroad in these forests. We will have to go through them carefully. Use as little fire as we need.’
'Does Kirrikree know much about the men of these lands?’
'Only a little. King Strangarth holds sway with difficulty, as the tribes are scattered and mostly independent. But there have been many skirmishes with the Emperor's men south of here on the borders. Kirrikree has not been able to learn the purpose of the Emperor's men, but he saw a party of them earlier today, and they seemed to him to be searching for something.’ She looked at Guile as she spoke, but at that moment he was sharing some private joke with Wolgren.
Korbillian puzzled at her meaning. ‘Are you certain?’
'It is Kirrikree's feeling, that is all.’
'But why? The Emperor was glad to be rid of us. I was a threat to him, or so his mad eyes saw me. Such enemies as Guile may have had at court would hardly pursue him to a place like this. They would be well rid of him here.’
'You know more about him than I do,’ Sisipher smiled. ‘Tell me, why did you choose him?’
'He chose me. I am glad to accept those who will follow.’ He smiled grimly. ‘I'm not sure that he will be a worthy ally in a fight, yet I have come to value his company.’