If I Pay Thee Not in Gold

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If I Pay Thee Not in Gold Page 30

by Piers Anthony


  Then Xylina heard more of the sounds, coming from another direction-and Marie heard them as well, from his section of the palisade. The conclusion was inescapable. Whatever was out there, there were many of them, and they wereall converging on the palisade!

  Xylina sent Gurt around to wake the others, and lit her oil-soaked torch, going to stand beneath the wall with her sword in one hand and her torch in the other. Fear sent a chill hand walking down her spine, and her eyes burned with the strain of trying to see what was over the top of the wall. Would the wall stop it, whatever it was? Or could it fly or climb?

  The scraping sounds reached the rock wall-and stopped for a moment. She thought then that it was over, that they were safe, but then the sounds resumed-and continued up the wall. Her heart pounded in her ears; her mouth tasted dry, and her knees trembled. Still, she stood her ground, standing at the foot of the palisade, waiting to see what was coming for them. She could not let the men see how frightened she was-or they might lose their own courage. Shemust hold fast, or they would not be able to. But she followed the sounds up the wall with her eyes- and so she was the first to see the new monsters as soon as they topped the rock of the palisade.

  Something like a talon hooked over the edge of the rock; a second appeared beside the first, then the edge of something huge and saucer-like heaved up into the light from the torch. It was shiny, and there were many legs attached to it; a pair of faceted eyes, glittering like some malignant jewel, looked down at her in the torchlight. Beneath the eyes were sickle-shaped mandibles, sharp and as long as her arm, serrated on the inner edges. Another moment passed, and a second creature hauled itself up to stand on the palisade beside the first. More followed, until the rock walls were ringed with them.

  The first thing she thought of was that they were some kind of horrid giant spider. But their limbs were armored, and besides those terrible mandibles that clicked menacingly, each of the monsters was armed with two huge pinchers, as large as Faro’s torso, that they held just in front of their mouths. They were each as large as two horses put together; they glared down at her, their eyes reflecting a hundred tiny flames in the light from her torch, and one of them made a move to descend the wall, groping down for a foothold in the stone.

  She acted before she thought, on pure reflex. She plunged her torch into the oil-filled trench, and leapt backwards as the flames exploded upward, licking hungrily at the wall.

  The flames were not the only things roaring; the monsters let out angry sounds of their own as the flames lashed out toward them. Most of them retreated backwards, down the way they had come-but a few of the largest gathered their legs under themselves, and sprang at her, at the men, landing in the camp on the other side of the flaming barrier.

  Afterwards, she could not recall anything clearly; only a horrible confusion of claws and blades clashing together, of Faro dousing one of the things with oil and setting it afire, so that it scuttled madly about the encampment, shrieking. Fire and reflected flame, screams of men and monsters-at one point she found herself fighting back-to-back with Gurt, Horn, and Barad, sweat pouring down her face and stinging her eyes, her body shaking with fear and fighting-frenzy. She conjured weapons for those who had lost theirs, calling up anything that happened to spring to mind-torches, staves of metal, fistfulls of fabric to cast over the eyes of the monsters to blind them for a precious moment. Someone called an alarm as the flames in the trench died; she conjured more oil to keep the trench burning. Faro backed three of the things into a corner, catching them between himself and the flames; she sprinted to his side and conjured more slabs of rock to topple onto the monsters to break their armored legs. Jan fell and one of the beasts grabbed his leg, trying to drag him away. She left the fighting circle to dash in and sever the joint of the claw holding him, then stood over him until two of the others came to drag him to cover. In the next instant, Barad was taken and torn apart by two of the beasts, then devoured before their eyes, the creatures stuffing still-twitching limbs into their greedy maws.

  Ware took advantage of their preoccupation with feeding to slay them both, stabbing them with long poles topped with spines, up through their mouths. Horrid black ichor spurted from their mouths as they backed into the flames from the trench.

  There was no time-no time-

  In the next moment, she came between Gurt and another of the beasts, forcing it away from him, hacking at it with an arm that felt leaden and burned with fatigue. Ware got this one as well, tossing a swath of oil-soaked fabric over it from the rear and letting her back it into the fire from the trench so that it went up like the others, screaming and waving its pinchers in the air.

  Faro seemed to be everywhere, stabbing at the creatures’ eyes with improvised spears made of spines and tent-poles, snatching up an abandoned bow and shooting out their eyes. All of the fighting was lit with the hellish glare of the oil-fire, making it seem as if they fought demon-creatures in a nightmare.

  Finally, just when she thought that she could not swing her blade again, she looked up in a momentary respite, after killing yet another of the beasts by hacking its legs off then stabbing it through the eyes-

  -to see that the sky was turning lighter, and that the only creatures left within the palisade were all dead. It was over.

  They had won.

  Chapter 14

  Xylina wiped a grimy hand across her brow, feeling grit mix with the sweat, and surveyed the rest of her exhausted crew. They would take what sleep they could, when morning drove the armored spiders away-but first they needed to drag the remains of the dead monsters out of their camp, and to dispose of their own dead. Altogether, they had managed to slay over twenty of the creatures; it was hard to tell exactly how many there had been, because so many of them had been burned. There were five more men gone now: four of the fighters and one of the three servants. Miraculously, all of the animals had survived the attack; she was still not certain how. Ware said that at one point he had seen the mules in a defensive circle with his stallion; that was all he could tell her.

  It took them several hours to hitch the mules to the charred and dismembered bodies and drag them out of the gap Xylina created in the palisade. Sadly, the disposition of their own dead took far less time. They piled the bodies-or, more aptly, what was left of the bodies- onto an improvised pyre, and poured the last of the oil over them, while Hazard spoke the words in a voice harsh from smoke and shouting. Then Ware ignited the pyre, and they returned to the camp while the flames still burned. Xylina had just enough energy left to create another palisade stone-and she had to hold onto the tent-stake lest she collapse when she finished. Fortunately, both Faro and Ware were so tired that neither of them seemed to notice.

  They slept the sleep of the utterly exhausted until noon, when the heat woke them. Xylina dispelled the palisade and tents, while the men broke down the camp.

  They were following the road again within the hour, pushing the mules to put as much distance between them and where they had been attacked as they could. Between sunrise, which was when they had left the hacked-up bits of spider outside the palisade, and noon, which was when she had dissipated the stone, scavengers had already reduced the dead monsters to bits of tough armor and scattered claws.

  They did their best to put as many leagues between them and the spiders as possible. Ware confided that he hoped they would come within another magic zone soon, but as night fell, and the land about them had not changed in any significant way, Xylina and the demon had to admit defeat. They had not escaped the danger region. Tonight there would likely be another such attack, and they were just as ill-prepared to meet it as the first time.

  They were forced to halt in a place where the tentacle creatures were particularly thick on the ground, and that was not encouraging, either. It was very difficult to find a large enough space free of them to make any size camp at all. But that was not the worst of it.

  When Xylina steeled herself to conjure another stone palisade, she realized that her
efforts of last night, and perhaps lack of sleep, had seriously depleted her resources. This was a new experience for her; she must have overextended herself, magically, and would have to wait a few days for recovery. She could not conjure stone to give them protection. Even her efforts at conjuring oil for a trench were frighteningly difficult, and she very nearly fainted after the second barrelfull.

  Ware approached. “You are magically exhausted,” he murmured. “Faro and I hoped this would not be the case. We shall have to cover for you, lest the men think they lack protection.”

  So she had not fooled Ware or Faro. “Think?” she asked wanly.

  Ware caught Faro’s eye, and nodded. He approached as if just thinking of something. “Mistress,” he said, loudly enough to be heard throughout, “it occurs to me that we have been depending too much on your magic. Last night we thought the stone and oil was sufficient, so we were caught by surprise when they weren’t. We should assume more of the burden of defense ourselves, keeping your powers in reserve for ugly surprises.”

  The other men paused, then slowly nodded. They weren’t lazy, and they wanted to survive. Last night had been brutal, but perhaps it would be better if Xylina used her magic only when their efforts failed. Faro directed them in the preparation of earthworks and wooden stakes, keeping them busy. “Build as close to the tentacles as you can,” he said. “So that any intruders will brush them before reaching us.” There was a mutter of almost humorous agreement.

  Nevertheless, Xylina had to try to do her part. She decided that it was best to begin with the oil, rather than the palisade, for when she gathered her power, she felt disoriented and dizzy. The next barrel filled sluggishly, the oil flowing from a point between her hands much more slowly than she was used to-and it was not that the magic power was not available. She sensed the power waiting for her to call upon it-butshewas the one lacking. She felt as if she had begun a long run directly after a marathon swim: her “muscles” were tired, and could not direct the power as she was used to. And the more she tried, the harder it became to control.

  “Do not push yourself too hard,” Ware said. “I have seen this before, on rare occasion. Too much exertion interferes with the recovery process.”

  She smiled at him, grateful for the understanding. At that moment she wanted to kiss him. An aspect of herself pondered that with bemusement: she was so fatigued that she was attracted to a demon. But she kept working.

  As she finished the following barrel, she had a moment of disorientation-and then her sight went gray around the edges, her knees gave, and she swayed where she stood.

  Ware caught her before she fell, and lowered her gently to the ground. There she sat, surrounded by the worried and frightened faces of her men, wondering if she had doomed them all. What was she going to do? They couldn’t possibly survive another attack of the spiders withoutsomekind of protection to keep some of the creatures out. The oil she had conjured would scarcely last an hour in a trench, and she was not certain that she could conjure more at this point.

  Now it was not possible to conceal the fact that her magic was low. She saw recognition passing through the group. Yet there seemed to be as much sympathy as fear. They were concerned for her almost more than for themselves. She appreciated that tacit support. Some other group might have chosen that moment to rebel, realizing that the magic of the mistress could no longer stop them. But her efforts to treat them like human beings were now being rewarded; they were treatingherlike a human being. And so this moment of her devastation was, in its subtle way, also her success.

  Ware looked around. “I had hoped this would not occur yet,” he said to the group. “Mistress Xylina was doing so well. The problem is that though Mazonite magic works beyond Mazonia, it fades with distance. Thus her resources are not what they were before, or what they will be when we return. She will have to do less conjuring for now, so that her strength is not depleted.”

  Of course that was it! If Mazonite conjuration were strong everywhere, the other cultures would not have been able to maintain their independence. Xylina found that reassuring; she was not really weakening. It was part of the problem of far traveling. At least the men understood, now, and so did she.

  But it was still her responsibility to protect this group. What could she do, without strong conjuration?

  Outside the circle of concerned faces, she caught sight of other curious onlookers. The last sunlight gleamed on the huge emerald eyes of the lemurs, who peered at these invaders of their realm with unblinking gazes. This was the nearest she had ever seen them before. Perhaps the fact that they were all standing quietly had reassured the shy beasts. They had come to the very edge of the tentacle-beasts, and stood just within that charmed circle, watching the naked strangers avidly.

  Charmed circle-the lemurs were weaponless, far more helpless than the intruders. Yet they were certainly surviving the night, with no palisades and no weapons. Could the tentacle beasts be protecting them?

  “Ware, Faro,” Xylina said urgently, as the latter brought her a cup of cool water and the former helped her to stand. “Look at the lemurs! They have no defenses, no weapons, no shells to protect them!They manage to avoid the spiders-could we do the same?”

  “By hiding within the tentacle-beasts?” Ware asked, quickly seeing what she meant. “We could, if we could avoid the poison, or whatever it is that the beasts produce to kill with. I can’t see any other way that the lemurs could be avoiding those spiders.”

  “I think their fur must protect them from the poison,” she said thoughtfully. “The dog that died had such short hair it could not possibly have protected him; in fact, there was no fur to speak of on his belly or his paws. But look at the lemurs! Look, how thick their fur is, and how it covers every part of them, right up to the eyes, even the palms of their hands and the soles of their feet-”

  “Then we should kill them and skin their fur, and wrap ourselves in it-” began Horn. But she shook her head, for that was no answer, and something in her rebelled at killing the gentle-seeming beasts.

  “No, no, that won’t serve,” she told him. “Even if we were to kill the poor things, how would we retrieve the bodies? The bodies would certainly fall well within the reach of the tentacles. And I don’t think we have time to kill and skin enough of them to cover us all. No, I have a better idea. Get all the clothing, every bit of it you all have, and armor as well-”

  “Ah!” Faro cried, seeing what she was getting at. “You mean us to wrap up in our own clothing, to protect ourselves that way.” He led the men and servants to the supply wagons, and shortly every one of them was muffled in every stitch of clothing he owned, turning them into motley bundles, looking like nothing so much as overstuffed dolls, stiff-limbed and awkward. But that would not matter, so long as they were protected.

  Xylina surveyed them critically. “Not enough,” she declared finally. “But this, I still have strength for.”

  And she began to conjure, producing length after length of thick, insulating fabric. Fabric was the very first thing she had learned to conjure, when she was small. Fabric took the very least of her own energies to produce.

  It was hideous stuff; her weakness did not permit her to produce anything fine or attractive. The dull brown color and coarse “weave” said more about her state of exhaustion than she suspected any of them guessed. Not since her power of conjuration had first come to her had she created anything this crude. Any Mazonite worth her citizenship would laugh at this stuff; it was worse than bad, and the only thing it had to recommend it was the fact that she knew that, like silk, it was an insulator and probably proof against most contact poisons. Wrap a man in enough of this, and it would be as good as the lemurs’ thick fur.

  Crude it might be. But she could spin it out of the air in quantity, and spin she did. It was almost therapeutic, reverting to this primitive conjuration. Soon there was enough to muffle every man to the eyebrows in a thick cocoon of fabric, and all the animals as well.

  The an
imals had worried her, until Ware came up with a solution. As the stories she had heard had hinted, the demonsdid have a kind of mesmerizing power. Ware used that one of his abilities on the animals, sending them into a trance in which they were three-quarters asleep and completely without fear.

  One of the dogs was their test subject; they wrapped it in its swaddling-cloths of conjured fabric, laid it in one of the wagons, and backed the wagon carefully into the midst of one of the biggest tentacle-beasts.

  The tentacles groped softly over the wagon, feeling each cranny and crevice blindly. As Xylina held her breath and the men watched with mingled fear and hope, the tentacles moved over the bundled body of the dog.

  The dog slept on, oblivious. The tentacles completed their exploration of this new thing that had invaded, then the beast went back to waving them aimlessly in the air. The beast accepted the dog and wagon as it would a rock-or a lemur.

  Hazard shouted with tired joy, and the rest joined him in a weak cheer.

  “All right,” Faro said, as if this were routine. “Let’s get the wagons and the animals into the protection of these bigger beasts. Then get yourselves under cover-no more than three to a beast. We can’t be sure how effective they are going to be. Hurry it up, now, the sun is setting! Those spiders are likely to be here any moment. If any of you are afraid, let Ware put you in a trance as well; that way you will not tear loose your protection, or be tempted to flee where the spiders may find you.”

  The men didn’t need much urging. Ware put the rest of the dogs and the mules and his horse under his trances. The dogs he placed in the wagon beside the first. The mules and horse he led in himself, and got them to lie down. Then he layered yet more fabric over them as the tentacles groped him and animal with complete impartiality. He left them sleeping and looking like bundles of discarded laundry.

 

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