by M J Engh
"My lord the Star of Freedom," answered Poal.
She put down the stick. "Take it for a gift," she said somewhat wearily. Then her eyes flashed. "But not to feed the hurus cat and corrupt it and breed in it a taste for eggs. Out, or I call my father!"
"I had it in my mind to give a gift this morning," said Poal, "and there was none to take it but your cat. Now there is another." And he held out the egg toward her.
Her lip quivered, with anger, it might be, or with laughter, and she took the egg. "Come then, corrupter of cats," she said, "and eat under our nut tree."
"Most call me Poal," he said, following her.
"All call me Lorn," said the woman, over her shoulder.
"Not I," answered Poal. "I call you a pleasure to the eye and a blessing to the heart."
So they ate.
"Friends and children," said the rider of horses, in due time, "shall we move on?"
"I shall not," said Poal. And he told his reasons.
"Is this wisely done," cried the rider of horses, "to part from your people and lie alone in a town among townsfolk, to be one free man among these servants of the Star of Wealth, to live at risk and without law, and all for the sake of a merchant's daughter? Is this done wisely, my son?"
"Yes," answered Poal.
"Take this, then," said the rider, putting the little weapon into his hand. "I give it to you, to keep or use or lose as you will."
When the rider and his people had gone, Poal came to the merchant and told him of the matter. The merchant laughed in his face. Poal laughed also.
"Why do you laugh?" grunted the merchant.
"Why not?" asked Poal. And he played with the little weapon at his belt.
"You wear a strange thing at your belt," said the merchant. "What is it?"
"It is a weapon that can pick a flower bud from the topmost branch of a blyyo tree at four bow-shots distance," answered Poal.
"And where did you get it?" asked the merchant, whose eyes were bright like a sick bird's.
"From a trader, beyond the dominion of the Star of Battle," he answered.
"So?" said the merchant. "Leave me the weapon as security, and take six horses loaded with iron ore, and go trading into the dominion of the Star of Battle. If you return with sufficient profit, and within four months, the girl is yours."
"Take the weapon," said Poal.
So it was settled, and before dawn of a rainy morning Poal set out, leading six horses loaded with ore. As he passed the merchant's house the woman Lorn came whispering to him, and put the strangers' weapon into his sleeve. Then he walked on singing.
A few days he journeyed thus slowly beside the boat-thick river, for his heart was easy and the walking good. But when he came to the slopes of Craghead he cut loose one of the horses and divided its load among the others. "Now come, my pretty," said Poal. "I shall be my own rider of horses." And he mounted and rode singing up the slope.
But when he topped the spur and looked down on the wild hills and the roll of stony desert beyond, his song died on the air, for he saw the flash of battle far off at the horizon. He thought diligently of the woman Lorn, and he watered his horses and knocked down a pair of flying rabbits for his meal.
In the last valley he tethered the loaded beasts, and rode to the top of a hill. He saw battle below him. Where two rock walls ran out from the labyrinthine ranges on his left hand, a troop of horse-men had penned a larger force within the stone V. "Well, they will need iron," thought Poal. "They are wearing swords out fast." But then there came a lull in the battle and he saw that what the besieged warriors held as their barricade was the great vessel of the strangers. "Come, my pretty beast," said Poal. "We must see this." And he rode down to the fighting.
When he had come near to the horsemen they turned and set upon him, but he threw away his knife and rode forward empty-handed, so that he got no more than a bruise and a cut.
"Who commands here?" he asked, when they had put up their swords, seeing that they would get no fighting from him.
"Lord Bromon," they answered.
"Tell him that one comes who serves the Star of Freedom," said Poal.
"Surely we guessed as much from your valiant defense," they said, and mocked him greatly. But they brought him to Lord Bromon, a huge stubborn man of much strength, who looked on him scornfully and kindly. He spoke to his surgeons, saying, "Heal his hurt"; and to Poal, "How can I please you?"
"Give me safe passage, My Lord," answered Poal. "My road lies that way." And he pointed toward the vessel of the strangers.
"What?" cried Lord Bromon. "Do you serve Lord Early?"
"I serve the Star of Freedom," answered Poal. "I met Lord Early not long ago, and the meeting was not friendly."
"Go then," said Lord Bromon, who kept one eye always on the camp of his enemy. "But if you are Lord Early's spy, you deserve what Lord Early will do to you."
Then Poal, whose cut the surgeons had dressed, rode on into the V of the rock walls. He saw how the crossbows that lined the top of the vessel turned to follow him, and so he flung wide his arms, and let the horse amble at its own will. They let him pass around the end of the vessel, and held him pinned in the sights of a cross-bow while Lord Early came to him.
"You are a man of Lord Bromon's," said Lord Early, looking at him, "or one of those wanderers with the strange weapon, or it may be both, and in any case you are my enemy. But you come unarmed. How can I please you?"
"I serve only the Star of Freedom," said Poal, "and I come peacefully, but it is true that I have an uncommon weapon." He showed it.
Lord Early's brow darkened. "What is this weapon?" he asked.
"Stand with it on the peak of Craghead, My Lord," answered Poal, "and you can strike down a man riding from Black Harbor to the sea."
"It is a foul weapon," said Lord Early. "Take it from my sight."
"Gladly, My Lord," be answered, "if I may go into this vessel."
Lord Early shrugged. "Go into this boulder, if you will. Doubtless the vessel has a door, but there is no sign hung over it."
Poal looked down the long metal side of the vessel, and saw that this was true. "How did you come to barricade yourself behind the thing, My Lord?" he asked.
"I was marching down from the Ranges of Bewilderment, in hope of cutting off Lord Fadzal and his bowmen, when I saw this thing drop from the sky, and men come out of it," said Lord Early. "I offered them battle, but they fled into the vessel again and closed it. Then came Bromon and his wild horsemen, and I had no time to move out." He shrugged. "That was six days ago. I have thrown up earthworks, as you see, and built the thing into a tolerable fortification. But we are eating our shoes now, and in a few days more we will be drinking blood."
"It grieves me," said Poal. He went to where he saw a little seam in the vessel's side, and kicked against it. "It is I, Poal, a friend and trader," he shouted in the speech of Apertia.
In due time the door of the vessel opened, and Poal dismounted and went in. It was a marvel above all marvels. "Sit down quickly," said the historian. "You look dizzy."
Poal sat down and looked at the slick walls and stiff floor and the strange things on them. In boxes the color of ice he saw the goods the strangers had offered for trade to his people, and he thought of the woman Lorn and his eyes flashed. "How can I please you?" he asked.
The blue-eyed leader of the strangers snorted. "Take these madmen away," he said. "We had no more than landed when they attacked us. We could crush them as quickly as you close your hand; but that would be to create hostility. An opening market must be treated with care and indulgence."
"Therefore we carefully and indulgently withdrew," added the historian. "We would have withdrawn farther, but suddenly we found ourselves being used as a barricade. I judge that you are in a state of more than feudal anarchy, and I fear that you will prove a doubtful market."
"If we should rise now," said the blue-eyed man, "our rising would shake these pestilential brawlers like ants in a churn. And t
hat is not the way to treat a market."
Poal looked long at the shining cloth, at the gleam of strange metal and the changing fire of strange jewels. "Let me out," he said, "and I will send them away."
"That is unlikely," said the historian, "and probably impossible." But they let him out.
He came out under the hoofs of the warhorse of Lord Bromon, who had grown tired of the siege and led a flying attack on one end of the barricade. "Safe passage!" cried Poal, rolling on one side. He spent some bad minutes crouched against the vessel; and indeed he might have called again to the strangers, had he not had still the taste of his boast in his mouth. But in due time the attack was beaten off, and Lord Bromon wounded with a great swashing blow of Lord Early's mace. Then Poal caught his horse, and rode safe through the lines and back to the hills under Craghead. The five horses stood tethered by a stream, and he loosed them and led them down toward the vessel. "Step neatly, my joys," he told them. "We may have a larger load to carry back, if only I can think of something." He took the little weapon and aimed it at a flying rabbit. Nothing happened. He aimed it at a rock under his horse's feet. Nothing happened. "The bolts are shot," he said.
Then he thought of something, and led his horses into a fold of the rocks. When he had tethered them, he rode down again to the camp of Lord Bromon.
Lord Bromon sat stiff-faced on a stone while his surgeons toiled at his wounded shoulder. "It grieves me, My Lord," said Poal. "Pity that you had not my weapon."
"What is this weapon?" asked Lord Bromon, whose face was as the stone face of a cliff in the moment before an avalanche.
"Stand with it on the plain, My Lord, and you could strike down the soaring carrion bird, if only it did not fly too high to be seen," answered Poal. "With this weapon, My Lord, you may kill a man as easily as look at him, as a serpent strikes or a spider snares. With this weapon—"
"You may live among spiders and serpents if you will," roared Lord Bromon. "It is not fit for a man's use." He struck his fist against the stone, and his surgeons wept. "I let you live, friend, because you are an outlander and a man of no account. But if any who serves my lord the Star of Battle dared stoop for such a weapon, honor would melt like snow on red-hot iron, and war and glory perish, and good battles come no more. Take the thing from my sight!"
Then Poal rode a little way off and called to a warrior of Lord Bromon's. The man came, scowling and leaning on his spear.
"Tell me, friend, where I am most likely to meet with Lord Gorgro," said Poal.
"Beyond the Ranges of Bewilderment," answered the man. "Good journey to you. Though why an outlander and a man of no courage should seek a meeting with Lord Gorgro is more than I know."
"It is true that I am an outlander," said Poal. "But long ago I contracted with that lord to bring him a certain little weapon." And he rode away hastily toward the ranges.
The warrior looked after him and turned then to Lord Bromon, and shortly Poal heard a great cry and a noise of mounting. He hurried into a cleft of the rocks, where a dry streambed came down from the mountains, and there he dropped from his horse and struck the beast across the flanks, so that it leaped forward and galloped up the streambed with a great clatter. Then he crept behind a boulder and waited until the horse was out of sight, and Lord Bromon and his warriors had come angrily in pursuit and passed up into the ranges, scattering stones from their horses' hoofs. Then Poal slipped the weapon into his sleeve and came down to Lord Early.
"It is trickery," said Lord Early, who stood with drawn sword beside the vessel. "Bromon is not so much a coward as to flee without reason."
"That," said Poal, brushing the dust from his garments, "is not flight, My Lord, and he has reason. He has also my weapon."
"What?" cried Lord Early. "To arms, my men! After the scoundrel! We shall die bravely, at least." And they gathered their weapons and marched away into the Ranges of Bewilderment, before Poal could unfold the story he had prepared to send them there. So he shrugged, and went back to his five horses.
By the time he had led them down to the scene of the siege, the strangers were standing with puzzled faces around their vessel.
"How did you do it?" asked the blue-eyed man.
"It was nothing," said Poal. "Some are chasing others, and those are chasing me."
"This is what is known as strategy," said the historian, nodding.
"How can we reward you?" asked the blue-eyed man.
Poal shook his head. "It is not a matter for reward," he answered."But it would please me to have some of those goods you carry in the vessel."
Then goods were brought out and heaped up, and after some trials at loading his five horses Poal cast off the sacks of ore and hung the strange goods in their place. His heart was warm. "Take this for a gift," he said to the leader of the strangers, and he gave him the little weapon from his sleeve. The man said nothing.
Then Poal turned back toward Craghead and the plain and the woman Lorn.
The merchant gave him great welcome, with a bright feast and all the merchants of the town nodding in wonder at his goods. But that was after the woman Lorn had met him at her father's gate and led him with torchlight and shouting to her father's chamber, for the merchant had not looked for him so soon. And within a few days they were married.
"I will make a poor husband for a merchant's daughter," Poal told her privately, "and a poor townsman. I had rather give than sell, and I have never learned to buy. I have served none but the Star of Freedom, and him I have served so well that not even his dominion could hold me."
"I am sick of buying and selling," answered Lorn. "I am sick of the town. The Star of Wealth has no dominion over me, for dominion is of the heart. Let us leave this place and seek your people. Let us serve only the Star of Freedom and the Star of Love." So it was settled between them.
But when the marrying was done, the merchant called Poal aside. "You are an outlander," he said, "and you are young, but plainly you have skill." And he gave him half share in his merchandising.
Poal told this privately to his wife, and when he saw the look of her face he clenched his hands upon his heart. "Oh, it was not done wisely," she said, "and I have married a fool and an outlander and a man not worthy to serve the Star of Freedom or the Star of Love."
"But a gift!" said Poal. "He gave it as a gift. What could I do but take it?"
"And now we are bound," said Lom. "How can we free ourselves from wealth?" And she pressed her violet hair upon her eyes.
"My joy and my hope of pleasure," answered Poal, "it is true that I am a fool; but what could I do?"
"You must not waste your time in grieving," she said. "You must be a good merchant, and it is my father you must please now, not me."
So Poal went to the merchant's shop and sat there all the morning, but the merchandising smile came hard to his face.
"It is a vessel, My Lord," he answered.
"It is a marvel," said the Star of Wealth. "It would please me to own it."
Poal thought of his wife Lorn, and of her father. "I will sell it to you, then," he said.
"Is it yours to sell?" asked the Star.
"I think you cannot buy it from any other, My Lord," he answered.
"What is your price?" asked the Star.
Poal looked upward from the golden shoes. "The sapphires that you wear, My Lord," he answered.
"That is a great price," said the Star of Wealth, "but I will pay it." And he took the twenty star sapphires that he wore on twenty silver chains about his arms, and gave them to Poal. Then he called his men, and with much labor and the use of derricks they got the vessel down the quay and onto the ship.
Poal sat and watched them. It was past sunset when the work was finished, and the ship set sail at once with an offshore breeze. Poal jingled his sapphires and went to find his wife.
He found the strangers instead, and they were troubled. The news of their vessel's going had run up through the town and reached them at last where they were trading eagerly with
the town's merchants. Now they came running to the outer quay, and stood there open-mouthed and with grim eyes. They saw the great ship standing out to sea, dull gold in the twilight, with the great vessel silver on her deck.
"Send after it," cried the blue-eyed man, and clutched at his hair.
"It is the ship of our lord the Star of Wealth," the townsfolk answered. "What he buys is bought."
AURIN TREE
by M J Engh
"There is a saying along the South Road," said the blue man, "that no man passes Aurin Tree twice."
"Why not?" asked Poal.
The blue man shrugged, and his teeth gleamed dully like quicksilver that has lain long in air. "It is a saying," he answered. "Along the South Road they say it, as others say that no man is twice born or twice buried, and others still that today will not come tomorrow. Few have looked on Aurin Tree, and they will tell you it is the end of the world. But I come from beyond Aurin Tree."
"What is it, then?" said Poal, and stroked his horse's nose, for there was something in the sad smile of the blue man that made the beast stir restlessly.
"It is a tree," said the blue man mournfully; "only a tree that grows on Aurin Cliffs. And some have come down Aurin Cliffs—so it is said—but none come up save seabirds."
"You are no seabird, friend," said Poal, grinning. Indeed the blue man, as he sat drooping on a milestone, was more like a bush of the great blue-green weed that shrugs and droops with the waves upon the sea rocks.
"No," he said; "I have not passed Aurin Tree. I came by the sea, not the cliffs. It was the sea itself that snatched me, and carried me, and threw me half dead upon the beach below Noram Head. Since then I have traveled up and down, seeking a way back. But it is hard, very hard." And he shook his flat head sorrowfully.
"Could you not go down the cliffs?" said Poal. He still stood beside his horse, with his hand on its neck to comfort it, lest the beast bolt if he sat down to take his pleasure in talk.
The blue man sighed a deep sigh. "It is very hard," he said.