I knew from whence the voice came. Still my trembling hand sought the laser stone-to end it all in a victory for the Dark One. I looked down to guide my trembling fingers-and saw, from the corner of an eye that Murie and Hargis were watching me; that their faces were pale, their eyes staring; their very souls shattered by the sight of the “Collin’s” fear! I tried to control my hands. I couldn’t!
Hargis, a true Alphian, then did what he had to do. He squared his shoulders, saluted me, said briskly: “Well, now, my lord. I’ll test the bastard first. We’ll find his weak point….” And he rode off to face that thing that was now within but a hundred feet of us.
And did I not hear some strange and awful laughter to match the rising thunder of the drums? Still I could not move nor with Murie watching, could I any longer search for the correct stone at my belt.
Then Murie dashed to the front of me as if to protect me, and then rode back; to the fore again to turn and stare right at me. Alarm was in her every movement; fear, too, for me.
For my fear was visibly the kind that causes paralysis.
“My Lord,” she cried, when she could no longer stand the sight of my abject cowardice, “My Love. You must allow us to attack it There s hope-some way”
Then a roar rose from the ranks of both sides I focused my unseeing eyes. Brave Hargis-he had but nineteen years-had driven three feet of heavy spear into the monster’s left nostril. Only to be instantly seized in the grasping talons of those quick and deadly forefeet.
He screamed his death cry his ribcage crushed. And even as I watched, the skaiding took both head and shoulders into its gaping tunnel of a mouth and halved him-bit through hauberk, plate, and steel to do it.
And, even as I watched, Murie, too, rode forth, despite the piteous screams of her dottle, to place herself exactly beneath the beast and to hurl with unerring aim two small javelins to pierce its great right eye. Green juices poured from the eye, horrendous howls of rage from the depths of its being. The skaiding hurled Hargis’ remains away, turned slightly-and with one sweep of its mighty tail dashed her and her dottle to the ground.
But the spell had been broken!
Indeed, I’d been moving forward with Hargis’ scream, snapped from my paralysis by his death, and the fact that most likely Murie, too, was now dead-because of me.
Griswall was already ahead of me, since he’d moved to follow Murie in the first instance of her challenge. Now he leapt from his dottle to stand also before the monster. At that moment I joined him, he’d hurled his twelve foot war spear toward the one remaining eye-and missed!
“Griswall!” I shouted. “To your princess, sir! She’s not dead. If you’re going to die,
‘twill be protecting her!”
Whether he dropped back at that precise moment or not, I don’t remember. Still, my head had cleared completely of the Dark One’s intrusion. The fear was gone. Cold logic took its place, touched my heart and slowed its pounding. A tenth of a second’s scan showed me the field in photo-image. Two groups of Yorns, mine, were larger now by the addition of a number of enemy Yorns who had joined them. Two black cowls waving on gleaming spear tips brought scattered cheers from our ranks. To the left a faint shimmering denoted something, too. It came from a crouching meeg. I knew, and instantly, that that meeg-and most likely all of them-was encapsulated in a below-zero air pocket.
In effect, not a single meeg would ever move again!
“Well, why not the skaiding, too?” I howled mentally. For I also knew just who had tinkered with the meegs. But no way-if I’d done what they’d asked me-crashed the pyramid-it would all be over now. But I hadn’t. So. Whatever the reasons, the skaiding was mine alone.
He’d swiped at me and missed-and given me the single idea I’d had so far to take him. At the next swipe, I leapt to the taloned, grasping foreleg, seized upon it, straddled it, riding its wrist. The dullness of its brain assured me there’d be no nerve ends sufficient to detect my presence. The arm was on his blinded side, preventing him from knowing where I’d gone. Then the monstrous tail came around to slash the air. It turned its head to look; saw nothing! The tail came whistling back, dug a trench in the earth. Nothing!
By then I’d hauled my shield from off my back, grasping the handholds of its three-pointed rectangle firmly-but upside down. My greatsword was a simple extension of my right arm. The creature had never ceased to howl from the pain in its blasted eye.
Except for that, as a distraction, I think he would have known where I hid. Now that I wanted him to know of my presence, I had actually to pry at a scale to attract his attention.
He brought his foreleg up to his remaining, gutted orb-and saw me! He then did one thing that could bring his death, the thing I’d counted on. He opened his mouth to take my body.
I met the gigantic head direct; dived straight into that cavernous maw. My legs were caught on the front teeth. But I had time to wedge the shield, flat-top down, and with the point to the roof of the mouth, to protect them, while simultaneously thrusting the greatsword forward so that its point pierced the monster’s palate. The haft was then firmly anchored in the scarlet flesh of the tongue.
The sword was twice the shield’s length. Therefore, with the instantaneous snap of his great jaws, at least three feet of the blade was imbedded in the palate below the brain before the front of the mouth touched the shield. To open his mouth again was to free me, which he would not do. Indeed, I would have died anyway and in short order, had it not followed its natural instincts-and bitten down still harder in its rage…
The sword’s tip was driven still further up, piercing the tiny brain. And so it died…. In reflex action the great head shook, the mouth opened, hurling me from it. To save myself I clung to the horror’s teeth, breaking my fall, so that when the scaled head fell earthward, I was able to leap free.
In life-and-death combat most things take place in seconds. And so it had been with myself and the skaiding. Even as I hit the ground, I was up again to snatch Hargis’ broken spear from the monster’s nose and to climb its horned neck for the platform of its still quaking shoulders. Murie and Griswall raced to join me. My Yorns came streaming to surround the body of the skaiding to defend the three of us from the yelling, screaming Hishian host, a part of whose line was moving forward while the greater part held back.
I yelled with all the strength of my lungs and waved Hargis’ spear-“OM! MARACK! OM! MARACK!” I shouted. But there was little need to.
Indeed the Omnian wave of Sernas’ army was already at the charge, kettledrums thumping, fighting spears couched. It was a sight to see. Sir Rawl, at the very moment I’d dived into the skaiding’s mouth, had led them out. As he told me later, he figured to do or die right then and there, as any true Marackian would. At the river’s edge however, they’d seen the creature die, and me emerge-at which point the roar of Sernas’ twenty thousand was then sufficient to raise the dead of all Om’s five thousand years of servitude.
Those of the bravest of the Hishians who had dared attack the Yorns protecting us were almost instantly engulfed in the first wave of Rawl’s bloodthirsty thousands.
Victory’s a heady thing. Defeat’s disaster. And so it was with the Dark One’s host as it fell back before the Omnian onslaught. Only the Kaleen’s control saved them from the complete rout. Winds came; a howling gale to instantly whip the dust into clouds, blinding attacker and attacked alike.
We still forged ahead, driving them over the range of hills and beyond. The vicious, running battle was not without casualties for us, too. For here and there a Hishian lord would stand to fight to the death-for his honor and his god. And, being an Alphian first, he’d make that battle a thing to remember….
Clouds came, and more rain to wash the dust away. And I couldn’t tell what was Pug Boo sponsored and what was not. But when the dust was laid the pyrotechnics returned so that more of ours were lost to great bolts and sheets of lightning that shattered all the valley.
Innumerable fires were al
so set. Peasant homes, barns, whole villages and entire forests went up in flames.
I halted my little group and our remaining Yorns-they’d lost a dozen or so in our defense-beyond the first range of hills. Actually, I could go no farther. My left leg had been deeply slashed by the monster’s teeth. It was partially paralyzed. We were also moving beyond the protection of the scoutship. Somehow I’d have to get back to it and take it forward.
It was exactly then that Hooli chose to play “knock, knock.” He said sharply inside my head, “You’ve got to bring your ship up, Collin.”
“I know that,” I answered in exasperation-my forced mano-a-mano with the skaiding had in no way endeared him to me-“In the meantime, I’d suggest that you and yours go on ahead-hold off the Dark One. Play some tricks. Give him a bolt or two.”
“Not without you. He must not ‘see’ us, Collin.”
“Bloody Ormon! Hasn’t he ‘seen’ you yet?”
“Only you, Buby. He think’s it all from you.”
“You little bastards. I’d guessed as much. But what the hell difference does it make now if he does ‘see’ you?”
“Then all would be lost, whatever you would do.”
“Gerd fits!” I exclaimed. “Look! I suffered some hurt in that damned thing’s mouth. I need your healing touch, now!”
He didn’t answer.
They laid me out on an unburnt grassy slope, against a granite boulder. Murie and Griswall undressed me. Water was brought, and sviss. I drank copious draughts of both while the sviss was poured directly onto the gashes left by the teeth of the monster. The fluids of its mouth had undoubtedly contained some kind of poison, for I was fast losing any feeling in the leg.
Murie held my head in her lap, protectively. Griswall stood by, leaned heavily on his sword. Lord Sernas and a handful of his officers had held back briefly to see the nature and the extent of my wounds. They were visibly concerned.
Sernas said, with an attempt at humor, “One would hope that with such power as you’ve displayed, my lord, those wounds would fast be healed.”
“Mayhap they will be,” I replied. I told no one of the paralysis. “The flow of blood’s been stanched. I’ll need but a few minutes’ rest, then I’ll follow on. Be assured, sirs”
He took that as an order and he and his entourage saluted and moved off to join the pursuit. We were at about fourteen miles from Sernas Castle now-halfway to Hish! The power of the scoutship waned considerably with each mile’s distance. To assure our Omnians of even its limited protection, I’d have to move it and quick.
I called to Unghist. He came, huge, bloodied and serious. As ugly as he was, I was beginning to like him. He’d proven one thing: he could be trusted. I focused my contacts to ten mags, stared over the plain. I chose my site. “Look there,” I told him. “You see that clump of trees on that third small hillock next that peasant wattle hut and barn?”
He said he did.
“Find a half-dozen additional dottles and hold them there for us. Do not leave that spot. We’ll join you shortly, Go, now….”
He stared soberly at the mounts we already had. Then, without a word, he saluted and left.
Good boy! I was really beginning to appreciate him.
Turning again to the others, I saw that Murie, sore bruised herself, was cuddling Hooli who, as always, had appeared from nowhere.
“So you’ve come!” I said from inside my head. “Good! Now fix me so I can ride, you miserable damned rodent.”
He scrambled from Murie’s arms and climbed upon my belly as would a questing squirrel or honey bear. He padded up to peer into my eyes. He said, “Damn, you’re ugly.
Repeat after me-There’s no place like home! There’s no place like home!-“
I said, “Stop the crap, Hooll!” The pain was beginning to reach me. “Do it!”
He turned, padded back again, took one of my toes between his teeth as if to gnaw it, seemingly thought better of it, climbed down-and returned to Murie and cuddled in her lap.
And I was cured!
A laying of hands? Call it what you will. There were no longer any gashes upon my legs, no open wounds upon my back. More! There was a surge of energy, of goodness throughout my body so as to make me think I could challenge a dozen skaidings.
I sat up, got to my feet, saying the while, “Ride with us, Hooli. Rejoin your friends.” To Murie and Griswall, I said, “Let’s to the ship, quick! The farther these Omnians advance, the greater their peril.”
I dressed and we mounted up-and without a word being said about my recovery.
Indeed, I sensed the same physical euphoria in the both of them that I felt. Hoolis touch had the Midas quality.
We rode hard, passed the great dottle herd some two miles to the rear where we gave Mr. “tam” and “bootie” into the company of his companions.
As we drove on, Murie said cautiously at my side, “My lord, I feared for you when first we fought the skaiding.”
I laughed. “And with good reason. For I too ‘feared for me.”
“He had you, didn’t he-the Dark One?”
I smiled. I had wondered how she would rationalize my cowardice. True. The Dark One’s presence within the skaiding did have something to do with it-but not all that much. I said softly, “Nay, love. What possessed me is the thing that possesses all men at one time or other. The Dark One was in the skaiding, true-until you dared sink your shafts into its eye.
Its pain was sufficient then to drive the Dark One out-else, my dear, we’d all be dead right now….”
“Still, in the end you were wondrous brave, my lord.” She leaned across to kiss me.
And I sensed as she did it that she had really known quite well that her Kyrie Fern had almost died back there-of bloody fear.
At the ship’s site, I phased it in and within seconds we had lifted above the now war-torn land and were headed toward the grove of trees guarded by our Yorns.
Beyond, the pursuit continued, but slower now as additional Hishian contingents moved into the fray. They came direct from the city, along all the side roads from north, east and south. Lore Sernas had suggested the Dark One’s amassing of some twenty-five thousand in a few hours. It was visibly obvious that he could get three times that many in twelve.
I took the scoutship lower, risked everything for a look ahead. I had to know what awaited us between Rawl’s advancing warriors and the city. The ship-in “null” plus five-had a distortion factor sufficient for invisibility. This of course would not apply to the Kaleen, should he be scanning.
At a halfway point beyond our advancing front, and at just five miles from Hish itself was the river, Kiis. It was wide and shallow, at about five hundred yards and with many sand fiats. The flat stretches of slow moving water was at best a foot or two in depth. The river itself presented no obstacle. But the banks to either side, did. The far bank was a sharply sloping bluff of some thirty feet in height. And on that bluff was ranged as many as five thousand archers. They screened an additional force of thirty thousand lords, barons, and warriors; all being rapidly supplemented by the remnants of the thirty thousand who had fled before us…. The Dark One had truly drained all the land around.
He fought for time, obviously. He had no choice, or so it seemed. He could stop what he was doing and concentrate on us-or he could continue, hoping to hold us ‘til the gateway was completed, when he’d have all the power he needed to do what he wanted. Still, I wondered: Why the urgency? Was there something we didn’t know? A reason, linked perhaps with the exact alignment of Capil and Ripple? I’d not discussed it with Hooli.
Indeed Hooli’d not discussed it with me….
Whatever. We had arrived on the scene at precisely the moment when he needed to focus all of his energies upon the creation of the gateway. We were forcing him to draw upon those energies now-to prevent us from bringing the whole thing down!
His major effort, I concluded, would have to be made at that river and along that line above the bluff….
We stepped out of the grove and to the rear of our Yorns. Their stoicism, at sight of our mysterious reappearance, remained unshaken. “Unghist!” I called. “We are here. Bring us our mounts, for we would join the center command.”
Stoicism aside, their attitude toward us was still nothing short of awe.
Our twenty thousand had pushed to within two miles of the Kiist River. We caught up with the main body as it drove inexorably through a final burning village. Seeing the approach of my double standard-the “Collin’s” sprig of violets and the three golden dolphins against a black wave’s curl-Lord Akin Sernas called out: “Well, sir, I’ve never seen the like of your recovery. Would to whatever gods that we’ll now pray to, and to this Ormon most certainly, that all in the world who are ill of wounds will recover likewise.”
There were cheers all around; especially so since most of them had thought to be dead by now and instead found themselves riding as victors. And to “victors” the leader of the victory can do no wrong. Rawl came up with Caroween, Charney, and Tober. The lithesome, beauteous redhead, her surcoat and hauberk all bloodied, for she’d truly been Rawl’s shield-maiden, took Murie in her arms.
The ebullient Rawl, seeing my condition, said happily, “By the gods, Collin, you’ve more lives than a Gheesian louse. While you’ve been resting,” he boasted, “we’ve killed full half their army.”]
I smiled in the knowledge that he knew well-since his eyesight was as keen as a marsh eagle’s-that the main battle had yet to be fought. Though the plain of meadow and farmland was now generally flat, there was a slight sloping toward the river so that the far bluff could be seen-and along with it the monstrous array of spears and banners.
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