I proceeded. And I’m not sorry, for Georyn and I were the closer for it; how could we have truly known each other, had we not found that there were some things about which he was wiser than I? Georyn did not live in a fairy-tale world, and it was just as well that I found it out before I started wondering whether the evolution of Younglings might not be a goal of questionable merit.
So for a time the brothers dwelt with the Starwatcher, nearby to the hut of the Enchantress; and during that time they were more than once required to face fell sorcery, alone and in darkness, and were thus taught much concerning the uses of the magic spell. But although the nights were often filled with dread, Georyn’s heart was joyful, for the Enchantress welcomed his company, and she did indeed open a door to wisdom beyond his most fantastic dreams.
Those spring days were golden; one sunlit morning followed another, and though, toward nightfall, clouds often towered over the Enchanted Forest, there was no rain. It did not seem like a world that could contain a fearful Dragon. And in his secret heart, Georyn began to hope that the Dragon had already been slain by someone else, for he had no longer any need to seek a reward from the King. The wisdom of the King and his councillors he now saw as a pallid thing beside that which he had been shown.
Terwyn, however, was impatient to be off. “I am sure that we can overcome the monster with the magic powers we now have!” he insisted. “Why must we waste further time here, while others may even now be trying to claim the glory and the reward?” But Georyn said nothing, for each day that they tarried seemed to him a blessing beyond price.
The Starwatcher often disappeared into the forest on business of his own, of which he told them nothing. As he departed one morning, he mentioned that someone must go into the village that day to buy food; and when Georyn offered to do so, the Starwatcher gave him money and instructed him as to what was to be bought with it. But even as Georyn set forth, the Enchantress came to him, saying, “I have never seen the village, for though I should very much like to, I do not know the way there. Will you not take me with you?”
And Georyn told her, “Lady, I will take you anywhere you desire to go; you have but to name it.” So the two of them set out together. The day was very bright, and as they came to the road beyond the meadow, Georyn began to sing. Then the Lady too took up the tune, but the words were strange to her—although by now she often spoke in his language as well as to his mind—so she soon broke off in merriment; and Georyn thought that one would surely think her mortal after all, to hear her laugh.
When they were nearing the village, the Enchantress said, “These garments of mine must not be seen, for I do not wish to be known for what I am. If I am to enter the village with you, you must get me a cloak such as the common people wear; and I will give you silver to pay for it.” So they thought for her to hide within the wood while Georyn went to fetch the cloak; but before long they came upon a cottage, and thinking that the folk who dwelt there might be willing enough to trade a cloak for silver, Georyn went to the door and knocked upon it.
There was at first no answer, but then a thin child peeked out and, in answer to Georyn’s question, said, “We have no cloak, nor even any food, for our mother is dying and our father has been taken away by the King’s soldiers.” So Georyn entered and saw that the woman was indeed sick unto death, and there were other children who were in no better case; but when he told the Enchantress of this, she would scarce believe him.
“If she is so sick, Georyn, why does no one help her?”
“What help is there for such sickness? People are in fear of contagion, no doubt; and tomorrow she will be dead whether anyone shows her kindness or not.”
“And the children, too?” she asked, horrified.
“Perhaps; but I think the children are weak only from hunger.”
“Hunger! Has she been unable to cook for them, then? Why, we must stay and fix them some food, Georyn.”
He hesitated. “I do not question your magical powers, Lady. If you can obtain food for these people, by all means let us do so.”
“It is not a matter of magic, but of ordinary common sense! There must be some food in the cottage.”
“That I very much doubt. One might hide food, but one would not then let one’s sons die from the lack of it.”
“Die—from starvation? You cannot mean that! Who in the village is responsible for feeding these people if they have no money?”
Frowning, Georyn said, “Now you jest with me, Lady.”
She stared at him. “You mean that there is no one?”
“How should there be? Few there are who have any food to spare, and those few have little concern for the likes of these folk.”
“Perhaps—perhaps that is true, in this world,” she said slowly. “But then surely we could kill some game in the wood. Have they a bow, Georyn, that you could use?”
“They have not, nor have I any liking for such a risk; though if you asked it of me, I would dare it, Lady.”
“Dare? To kill a poor defenseless deer? I have not much liking for it either; but if people are in need of food, it cannot be helped. Did these children’s father never think of that?”
“Ah yes, he thought of it. That, in fact, is why he was taken to the dungeons of the King; for as you surely know, the game of this wood belongs to the King’s huntsmen.”
“Georyn, that is a terrible thing!”
“Many believe it so, but few would speak boldly of their thought.”
“Well,” she said at length, “I would give these folk my silver; but it would seem more to the purpose that we should bring them food on our way back. So let us continue now.”
Thereupon they went ahead until they came to another cottage, where Georyn was able to obtain a cloak for the Enchantress. Though the day was warm, she put it on, hiding her own silvery garb, and she pulled its hood over her dark hair; and so disguised she went on into the village.
Once there, the Enchantress gazed around her as if she had never seen any village before. But much of what she saw she did not like, for alas, the people of the cottage were not the only sick and hungry folk in the land. Georyn bought all the food that he and the Lady could carry; and at the end they had no money left, for the Enchantress gave the last of it to a beggar. This beggar had no hands, and she demanded to know how he had lost them. But when Georyn told her, her eyes widened in unbelieving horror; and thenceforth she was very quiet.
When they had returned to the cottage of the sick woman, the Lady herself insisted upon entering; but before long even she was convinced that there was little she could do save to give food to the children. In this she was bountiful, and would in fact have given it all to them, had Georyn not convinced her that the Starwatcher would be ill pleased if he came back empty-handed.
No more did they sing as they trudged back along the dusty road in the fading afternoon, for the Enchantress was sad and silent; and Georyn too was troubled. It had not hitherto occurred to him that the Lady’s magic power could be insufficient to fulfill her every wish, and he was much distressed at the discovery. It was not right that she should be unhappy! “No one could have saved the woman,” he said awkwardly, thinking to comfort her. “Surely, she was beyond the reach of any imaginable power. It is grievous indeed, but must we not accept such things?”
“But there are charms and potions that can cure all illnesses,” the Lady cried bitterly, “though alas, I have them not. Oh, Georyn, I am so limited! I am not what you think me to be! I have not all the powers that are known, and many that I do have, I may not use.” She turned her face to him, and it was wet with tears.
Georyn put his hand upon her arm. “Lady, do you weep?” he asked incredulously. “I did not think that the heart of an enchantress could be so moved.”
She pulled away, and he knew that though she was angry, it was not because he had dared to touch her. “Am I made of stone that I should see such things and shed no tears for them?” she demanded. “You do me injustice, Georyn, if you t
hink my heart less than human!”
Going to her, he put his arm around her shoulders, and this time she did not draw back. Georyn led her to a large flat stone by the side of the road and they sat upon it, under a wide-spreading shade tree. “It is the way of things,” he said slowly. “Men and women are born to hunger and sickness and all manner of suffering; and the plight of those whom you have seen today is as nothing to that of some upon whom the wrath of the King has fallen. But surely you, with all your wisdom, know this? Or perhaps,” he reflected, “perhaps it is not so with enchanted folk.”
“It is different,” she said sorrowfully. “I did not know! I was told often that the world of your people was different from my own, but that it should be like this! It is unbearable, Georyn! How do men live in such a world?”
He paused and then said quietly, “We live as anyone does: by hope; for what other way is there? And though of what we hope for, I have never been sure, I now think that perhaps it is that the world itself should be like the enchanted realm one day.”
And at that, her face brightened, and she told him, “It will be! For that too is the way of things, and we who wear the Emblem work toward that end. Only—” She sighed and went on. “Only it will not come in your time, Georyn.”
“I should be a child indeed if I thought that it would,” he said to her. “For it will be a very great change!” There was a silence, while Georyn brought himself to raise an issue that had been troubling him for some days. “You are not of this world, Lady,” he said finally, and it was not a question, but a statement.
“No, Georyn, I am not,” the Lady replied; and it almost seemed that despite her grief, she was sorry that she was not; but surely this must have been his own wishful thinking, for how could such a thing be? How could one who had known the enchanted realm care aught for the world of men?
“Is it permitted for me to ask why you are here, then?” Georyn ventured.
She nodded. “I am here to aid in the defeat of the Dragon, and for that purpose only; and I must tell you, Georyn, that once the purpose has been fulfilled, I cannot remain.”
“Must the fair pass away with the ill, then?”
“I shall not ‘pass away’; I shall return to my own world, where there are many wonders beyond your imagination.”
“I am glad of that for your sake, Lady; but it seems to me that in this quest I am working to my own ill end, if my success is to mean your departure.” Georyn turned away from her and added softly, “I am not so sure that I want to slay the Dragon now.”
The Enchantress reached over and took his hand. “Georyn,” she said seriously, “the Dragon is to this world a very great evil, far greater than you know. Though the full reach of this evil is past your understanding, I can tell you this: if it is not challenged here and stopped, there may well come a day when the entire world is consumed by it! On that day there will be no more free men of your people, if indeed there are any of your people left at all.”
“Then certainly we must stop it, whatsoever the cost. But who are Terwyn and I, Lady, to challenge such a threat as that? We are only a poor woodcutter’s sons.”
“You are fit as no one else is, for this task is such that it can be accomplished only by one of your people, one who can wield the powers of enchantment and be unafraid.”
“I would never be afraid of your enchantments!” he said, smiling.
“That is because you know little of them, then. They are perilous, Georyn; even to you, they are perilous. But there is no other way. Though I can help you, I cannot myself do what must be done. Oh, Georyn, if I could I would do it, and spare you the ordeal you must face! But the Emblem has no direct power against the Dragon; it can only aid.”
“To be selected for such aid,” said Georyn, “is surely a very great honor; and I shall try to be worthy of it. But I shall not look forward to the hour of my triumph!” And with those words he rose, and they went on their way again.
Why is it, I wonder, that you can accept the idea of deliberate killing, such as I had seen the Imperials perform, as an unavoidable Youngling barbarism; and you can even know the bare facts about Youngling wars in which thousands or even millions of people have been intentionally slaughtered; yet still, you are horribly shocked by your introduction to lesser but more revolting evils? Nothing that I had ever heard or read had prepared me for the sort of thing I saw in that Andrecian village. Suffering of that type is so completely alien to our society that I just couldn’t believe, at first, that among Younglings it is natural and widespread.
I don’t think I was any more naive than the average Federation citizen. Who other than a specialist in psychology, history, or ancient literature would have any occasion to come into contact with that kind of knowledge? Of course, I would have had to find out about such things sooner or later. All agents do. At the Academy, as Father had told me, you are thoroughly educated as to what to expect and how to deal with it. It is not a First Phase course.
Younglings, I suppose, grow up knowing about hunger and disease and brutality. They can’t even visualize a society from which these are absent. Initially, it hurt me to find that Georyn could accept such conditions so calmly; I had thought him more sensitive than that. It was a long time before I recognized his attitude as the normal and essential insulation for living as a Youngling.
I have no such insulation. The image of that handless beggar haunts me still. And yet I had been lucky. I had visited a quiet country village on one of its peaceful days; I had not seen the King’s justice perpetrated in the public square, which I am told is a fairly common occurrence.
I won’t record all of what Father said to me the night I came back from my unauthorized excursion. He didn’t scold me, nor did he once say anything that smacked of “I told you so.” Rather, he encouraged me to talk about what I’d seen, and tried to show me how it fit into the known scheme of things. He was very honest, yet at the same time very sympathetic; and though he presented a picture of Youngling cultures that I had never dreamed existed even in my worst nightmares, he did manage to help me come to terms with it.
We sat beside our campfire until long after midnight. Finally, we got down to the problem that was bothering me most of all. “Why doesn’t the Service do something?” I demanded indignantly. “At least in some cases we could help! Why don’t we bring in food and medical supplies, for example, and—”
“That would be a direct violation of policy, Elana. It would be flagrant interference in the internal affairs of Youngling worlds.”
“Father,” I said hesitantly, “haven’t you ever questioned this policy? I mean, I know we’re sworn not to, but—”
“That’s a misinterpretation of the Oath!” he exclaimed. “We are sworn to carry out Federation policy, yes, just as a police officer is bound to uphold the law; but that doesn’t mean we suspend our own ethical judgment. At times, we must question, if we are to be human beings and not robots. This, apparently, is one of those times for you, Elana. All right, don’t back away from it.”
Having grown up with the Service, I was accustomed to assuming it could do no wrong; that he should so coolly challenge me to examine that assumption was something of a jolt. Yet it was true enough that I now had some doubts that just couldn’t be pushed aside. “I—I can’t believe it’s moral for the Federation to stand by, having the power to relieve suffering and not using it,” I said slowly.
Father smiled, though his voice was grave. “You aren’t the first person to react in this way, you know. In fact if you didn’t, I’d be worried; I’d be afraid you were too callous to make a good agent.”
“If you’re suggesting that I’ll come around, because everyone else has—”
“No, I’m not suggesting that. I do believe the weight of the evidence is on the side of the policy as it stands; but if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here, so in that sense I’m prejudiced.”
“Let’s hear some of this evidence,” I said skeptically.
“I can summarize it.
You probably won’t accept it, though, until you’ve had a chance to really study the subject; and that’s not going to happen overnight.” He paused, deciding how best to make his point. “Do you know why disclosure is harmful?”
“Yes. At least I guess I do. If Younglings knew how far behind they were, they’d start questioning their own worth, their place in the universe; they might get so discouraged they’d simply give up. Or even if they didn’t, they would skip steps in their development, and they’d be hurt because they’d be exposed to knowledge they didn’t fully understand. At best their civilizations would become poor copies of ours, instead of keeping their uniqueness.”
“Those are the basic factors. It’s vastly more complicated, of course.”
“But it doesn’t explain why we can’t devise some way to correct obviously unnecessary evils without revealing ourselves,” I protested. “How would that be any different from what we’re already doing?”
“There’s an essential difference. We are permitted to step in only when nothing else can prevent extinction of the Youngling race; and what’s more, protecting Youngling civilizations from each other is not at all the same as attempting to protect them from themselves. But that’s beside the point. The real issue here is the whole concept of ‘obviously unnecessary evils.’ Who are you to say that human suffering is unnecessary?”
Hotly I asked, “Are you telling me that it is necessary? Why?”
“Because people advance only through solving problems; and if there were no problems to solve, no one would get very far.”
“But why should it be like that?”
“If I knew,” Father said ruefully, “I would be a long way ahead of any philosopher I’ve ever heard of. It’s like asking why the stimulus of fear is needed to enable Georyn to release the full powers of his mind. You can’t answer that directly; all you can do is look at results.”
“How do we know what the results would be if we don’t ever try to help?”
Enchantress from the Stars Page 13