Crystal Gorge

by David Eddings

  Balacenia moved quietly and inconspicuously around Dahlaine’s cave listening as the outlanders spoke with each other in awed tones about the conflagration of blue fire that had incinerated the servants of the Vlagh in the space of only a few minutes.

  The somewhat overly educated young Trogite called Keselo spoke at some length about the enormous power of what the outlanders called a “cyclone.”

  “Normally, a fire would have gone up the gorge rather than down,” Keselo declared, “but when you’re dealing with a cyclone, normal goes right out the window. A cyclone can almost tear down a mountain. The cyclone that went down Crystal Gorge pulled the blue fire along behind it, and the fire burned anything the cyclone hadn’t smashed down into tiny fragments. The enemies that hadn’t been ripped to pieces by the cyclone were incinerated by that blue fire.” Keselo paused, squinting at the ceiling. “I’d say that we had a case of ‘tampering’ again. A normal cyclone would almost certainly not have followed the gorge all the way down to the Wasteland. A cyclone is wind, and wind goes where it wants to go. Somebody grabbed hold of that cyclone and literally hurled it down the gorge.”

  “Then we probably owe Longbow’s ‘unknown friend’ a whole lot of kisses, wouldn’t you say?” Balacenia added.

  “I’m not going to kiss somebody who can do things like that,” Sorgan’s cousin Skell declared. “If I just happened to get it wrong, she could jerk out all of my insides—through my nose—if she really wanted to.”

  “Or, she might decide to turn you inside out, brother,” Torl said with a grin. “You’d look very peculiar with your insides right out in the open like that.”

  “Please don’t say things like that, Torl,” Gunda said. “That one almost took a big bite out of my stomach.”

  “So beat me,” Torl replied with a broad grin.

  “Supper’s ready,” Mother announced. “Come and get it before it turns cold.”

  Balacenia had a peculiar sort of thought then. Since Mother enjoyed cooking as much as she obviously did, why was it that the gods of the Land of Dhrall didn’t eat?

  “We’ll talk about that some other time, Dear Heart,” Mother’s voice said softly. “Now go eat your supper.”

  After the guests had all finished eating, Dahlaine of the grey beard rose to his feet to make a speech. For some reason, Dahlaine made speeches almost every time he turned around. “I most definitely want to thank our friends from the other side of the world for the victory we’ve achieved here in the North. I must advise them, however, that there still remains one part of the Land of Dhrall that has not yet known war, since it’s quite obvious that the Vlagh will not just walk away and leave sister Aracia’s Domain behind. An attack on the East will certainly come before long; we should make plans to protect the East.”

  “If I may,” Narasan said, rising to his feet with a certain reluctance. “My men and I spent some time in Lady Aracia’s Domain, and I sent Sub-Commander Andar out to speak with the natives and make an assessment of the defensibility of Lady Aracia’s temple-town and of the capabilities—or lack of them—in the local population. Why don’t you tell our friends what you encountered, Andar?”

  The deep-voiced officer rose to his feet. “As nearly as Brigadier Danal and I were able to determine, the place called ‘temple-town’ is totally indefensible. It has no walls, and no fortifications of any kind whatsoever. As for expecting any help at all from the local population, forget it. They don’t even know what weapons are.” Andar scratched his chin. “Commander Narasan was finally able to persuade Lady Aracia to create what we’ve come to call a ‘lumpy map.’ Brigadier Danal and I examined that map quite closely, and, so far as we could determine, there’s only one possible invasion route. It’s called ‘Long-Pass,’ and it’s definitely long, but ‘pass’ may not be quite so accurate. It’s an ancient streambed that wanders quite a bit. There are several excellent places for forts, and I strongly suggest that if we are going down there, we should concentrate on building those forts.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting the smoke the enemies unleashed on us down in Crystal Gorge, Andar?” Gunda said.

  “I was just getting to that, Gunda,” Andar replied. “In that region, the prevailing wind comes in from the sea that lies along the east coast. That means that the smoke—if the enemy decides to use smoke again—will go from east to west. Our forts will be on the east side of the pass, and the wind will push at our backs and not at our faces. If the enemy is stupid enough to try burning greasewood trees, that prevailing wind will push the smoke into the enemy’s face, not ours.”

  “Thank you, Andar,” Narasan said, rising to his feet again. “I think that just about covers everything, Lord Dahlaine. My men and I will build forts in Long-Pass and defend them from our enemies—for appropriate payment, of course. There is one stipulation I’m going to add this time, however.”

  “Oh,” Dahlaine asked, “and what’s that?”

  “You will keep your sister away from me. If she comes up there with that fat priest, Takal Bersla, my men and I will pack up and go home. I will not—under any circumstances—take orders from your sister. Keep her away from me, and I mean it.”

  “Do you really dislike her all that much, Narasan?”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘dislike,’ Lady Zelana,” Narasan replied. “‘Contempt’ comes much, much closer.”

  Balacenia carefully covered her mouth so that nobody would be able to see the wicked grin that had just come across her face.