Captive to Alizon! All those tales of dark horror that the
refugees told made me expect to be surrounded by demons as I was
jerked farther into the open by the rope that bound my arms to my
body. Still, these were only men, save that there was that in their
faces which made my mouth go dry with fear. A quick death can be
faced, but there are other things . . . They spoke among themselves,
laughing, and their tongue was strange. He who seemed leader among
them came to me and pulled at the still-loose neck-thongs of my
mail, bringing off my hood so my hair, loosened by his roughness,
spilled out across my shoulders. He stroked that, and I longed for
a dagger in my hand. But they were careful to make fast their
noose, and I had no chance.
Thus they brought me back to Ithkrypt, or nearly there. Before
we entered the courtyard where the enemy clustered, there was a
flash of light from the tower, followed by a thunderous sound.
Then, my head ringing from the fearful noise, near-shaken to the
ground, I saw such a thing as I would not have believed. Ithkrypt's
walls began to sway; great gaps appeared between the blocks of
which they were built. And the walls toppled outward, catching and
crushing many of the enemy, while a choking dust arose.
I heard screams and cries through that cloud, and I tried to
run. But fortune was against me, for the end of the rope bound me
kept me helplessly anchored. Had this been the work of those
monsters the invaders landed? I was sure not, for they would not so
have killed their own men.
Dame Math! But how had she done this? I was dumb — by the
evidence of such Power as I believed only one the Old Ones could
conjure; the Old Ones or some Wise One — who had had dealings with the
forbidden. Wise—and—Dame—such were opposed. But before she had
surrendered her will to the Flame and the Sisterhood that paid it
homage, what else had Math been? At any rate the blood-price had
taken here was worthy of our House, as she had promised. In spite
of my own fear I rejoiced that this was so. Valiant had our men
always been. My own father had fallen facing five Waste outlaws,
taking four of them with him. And now these from overseas would
know that our women could fight also!
But this was my only chance to get away. I tugged against the
rope. The murk of the dust was clearing, enough to show what held
me prisoner. He who had led me here lay with the rope about his own
waist, and he was face-down, a broken hunk of stone between his
shoulders.
I thought him dead, and that made me more frenzied in my attempt
to free myself. For to be bound to a dead man was the last horror.
Yet the cord held, and I was as well-tethered as a horse at an inn
door.
So they found me when they came reeling out of the rubble of
Ithkrypt and pounding up from the river. Of our men there were no
signs, save for three bodies we had passed on our way here. I could
only believe that Dagale's force had paid for our escape time with
their lives. Only for a short space were the enemy so disorganized.
I regretted bitterly that we could not have taken advantage of
that; wreaked more damage among them while they were shocked by what
happened. Now I did not doubt that any prisoners they might take
would pay for this unexpected slaughter. Such fear rode me as to
freeze my body, half-stupify my mind.
Dame Math had had the best of it. She had gone to her death,
yes, but in a fitting manner. It was plain I would not be allowed
such an ending, though they did not strike me down when they came
upon me still bound to my captor. Instead they slashed through the
rope and dragged me them out of the ruin of Ithkrypt down to the
river there was a group of officers.
One among them had the speech of the dales, though he mouthed
words gutturally. I was still so deafened by that terrible blast
that I could hardly hear him. When I did not reply to his
questions, he slapped my face viciously, one side and then the
other.
Tears of pain spilled from my eyes and I knew shame that these should see
them. I summoned what small pride me and tried to face them
squarely and with my head became a daughter of my House.
"What—was—there?" He thrust his face close to mine, Ms breath
was foul. He had a brush of beard on his chin, and his cheeks above
that were splotched with red, his nose veined and swollen. His eyes
were keen and cruel, and he was not, I was sure, a stupid man.
There was no need to conceal what I thought I knew, perhaps more
reason to say it, since even these invaders must know that High
Hallack held many secrets, most of them not to be plumbed by
humankind.
"The Power," I said.
I think he read in my face that I spoke a truth I believed. One
of his companions asked a question in that other tongue, and he
made answer, though he did not look from me to the questioner. A
moment later came his second demand.
"Where is the witch?"
Again I told him the truth. Though we did not use that term, I
understood his meaning.
"She was within."
"Well enough." Now he did turn away and make his report to the
others, and they spoke for some time among themselves.
I felt very weak and tired and wished I could drop to the
ground. My head hurt still, as if the assault of sound upon my ears
had injured something far inside my skull, and the despair of my
captivity was a leaden cloak about me. Yet I held as well as I
could to my resolve to keep my pride.
He faced me again, this time looking me up and down searchingly.
In his beard his thick lips grinned in some ways like those men who
had first taken me.
"You are no farm wench, not with mail on your back. I am
thinking we have caught us a prize. But more of that later."
So I was allowed a respite, for at his orders I was left on the
river bank, where their boats clustered and men were still leaping
ashore. To my eyes they seemed as many as the stalks of grain in
the fields, and there was no end to them. How could our small force
have hoped to halt them even for an instant, any more than a single
pebble might halt the flow of a spring flood.
There I also saw what had happened to our men. Some had fallen
in battle. Those were the lucky ones. For the rest — no, I shall
try to hold the doors of memory against what happened to them. I
believed now the invaders were not humans but demons.
I think they took pains for me to see all this in order to break
me. But in that they judged me wrong, for it stiffened rather than
bent me to any will of theirs. It is not how a man dies, but how he
bears that final act that has meaning. And the same is true for a
woman of the dales. In me grew a coldness like the steel from the
Waste, twice-forged and stronger than any other thing in our world.
I swore that Dame Math was right, and I must contrive to make my
own passing count against the enemy.
But it seemed they now forgot me. I was still bound, and they
made the rope fast to one of the boat-chains. Men came and looked
at me from time to time as if I were a prisoned beast. Their hands
were on my hair and my face, and they jabbered at me in their own
tongue, doubltess warning of much I would certainly rue. But none
did more than that. It was coming night, and they had set up a line
of campfires and were driving in sheep and cattle, slaughtering
some of them.
A mounted party had gone down-dale in pursuit of our people. I
besought the Flame that those fleeing had won the rugged land where
their guides could lead them by routes only dalesmen knew.
Once I saw a small party return, heard women screaming for a
while, and knew that some of our people had been run down. I tried
to close my ears, shut off thought. This was that place of Outer
Darkness come to earth, that place to which evil crawls and from
which it issues forth again—and to that evil there is no end.
I tried to plan my own ending before they could turn to me for
amusement. The river—could I hurl myself into the waters there? If
I could edge along the chain to which my rope had been tied, surely
there was a chance.
Toross — dully I wondered what had become of him. I had not seen
his body with those others. Perhaps he had escaped at the last. If
so, I could still find a small, unfrozen part in me that wished him
well. Oddly at that thought his face was vivid in my mind, as sharp
as if he stood before my eyes. Within my mail and under my jerkin
something was warm.
The gryphon. That unlucky bauble which had doomed me to this
state. The gryphon was growing ever warmer, almost like a brand
laid to my skin. From it flooded not only that heat, but something
else, a strength, a belief in myself against all the evidence that
reason provided for my outer eye and ear. It was like some calm
voice assuring me that there was a way out, and that my delivery
was at hand, though I knew this could not be.
Fear became a small, far-off thing, easy to put aside. My sight
was more acute, my hearing keener. My hearing — !
Even through the clamor of the camp I detected that sound. There
was something coming—down-river!
How I knew this, I could not have told. But I knew I must be
ready. Perhaps I was only dazed by fatigue, by my fear and despair.
Yet I was as certain of this rescue as I was that I still lived and
breathed.
"Joisan!" A thread of whisper, but to my alerted ears so near a
shout, I feared all the camp might hear it.
I was afraid to answer aloud, but I turned my head a fraction in
the direction from which they had come, hoping the gesture would
signal my recognition.
"Edge — this — way — " The words came from the river. "If — you
— can — "
Tortuous and slow were my efforts to obey. I kept watch on all
about me, my back to where that voice whispered, lest I somehow
betray this hope. Now I felt wet hands reach up to mine, the swing
of a knife against the rope. That fell away, my stiffened hands
were caught and held; my rescuer was half in the water. "Slip
over!" he ordered.
I wore mail and the dragging skirt. I could not hope to swim so
burdened. Yet it would be better to meet death cleanly. Now I
waited as a party of the invaders tramped along the path. They did
not glance in my direction. Then I rolled over and down into the
water, felt hands catch and drag me even as I gulped air and went
under.
We were in the grip of the current where the stream ran the
swiftest, and my struggles would not surface me for long. I choked
and thought this was the end. Still that other fought for me, with
what poor aid I could give. We came against a rock where he clung
and held my head above the flood.
His face was close to mine, and it was no surprise to see that
Toross held me so.
"Let me go. You have given me clean death, kinsman. For that I
thank you — "
"I give you life!" he replied, and there was stark determination
in his face. "Hold you here, Joisan!" He set my hands to the rock
and I held. He crawled and pulled himself up into the air, and then
by main force, for I had little strength left, dragged me up beside
him. By fortune we had come across the river into rough
pastureland, downstream from the ruins of Ithkrypt, and between us
and the western hills was now the full invader force. Toross was
shivering, and I saw he had stripped to his linen undershirt, his
mail gone. There was a raw slash across his cheek where blood
welled.
"Up!" He caught my arm, pulling at me. My long skirt, so
water-soaked, was like a trap about my legs, and the mail was a
deadweight upon me. But I stumbled forward, unable to believe that
we had actually achieved this much and that the alarm for my escape
had not yet sounded.
Thus we reached some rocks and fell, rather than dropped, behind
them. I fumbled with the lacings of my mail, wanting to be rid of
that, but Toross caught my hands.
"No, you may need that yet. We are far from out of the dragon's
jaws."
Of that I needed no reminding. I had no weapon, and, as far as I
could see, Toross carried none except the knife. Perhaps he had
found a sword too weighty for that swim. We were reduced to that
single blade and perhaps stones snatched from the ground if we were
cornered.
"We must take to the hills." In the growing dark he gestured
up-slope. "And try to work our way around those butchers to join
our people. But we had better wait for full dark."
Something in me urged action, to get as far from those fires,
the noise across the river, as we could. Yet what he said made
sense. To draw upon one's patience was a new ordeal, I now
discovered.
"How — how did you come alive from the river battle?" I
asked.
He touched that slash on his face, which had now clotted again,
giving him a bloody mask to wear. "I took this in the last charge.
It stunned me enough to make them think me dead. When I realized
that I must be dead to escape, I played that part. Then I got away
— but I saw them bring you from Ithkrypt. What happened there,
Joisan? Why did they turn their destruction against their own
men?"
"That was not done by the invaders; it was Dame Math. She used
the Power."
For a moment he was silent and then he demanded, "But how can
such a thing be? She was a Dame — a Dame of Norstead Abbey."
"It seemed that before she swore to the Flame she had other
knowledge. It was her choice to call upon that in the end. Do you
not think we can move now, Toross?" I was shivering in my wet
clothing, trying hard to control the shaking of my body. Though it
was late summer, this eve brought with it the foretaste of
autumn.
"They will be waiting." He was on his knees, peering back to the
river.
"The enemy — have they already climbed so high in the dale?" It
appeared our small gift of fortune was fast-dwindling. "No —
Angarl, Rudo." Toross named the armsmen who had come with him out
of the south. "My mother sent them back, and they were to press me
into going into the hills. Had I not seen you in the hands of our
enemies, the Hounds of Alizon, I might have yielded to them."
That we were not alone, if we could reach his men, gave me a
spark of comfort, though both men were old, sour and dour. Rudo was
one-eyed, and Angarl had lost a hand many years before.
So we began a stealthy withdrawal. I could not honestly
understand why we were not sighted, though we took to all the cover
the rough ground afforded. That there had come no outcry on my
escape was also a mystery. I had expected them early on my trail —
unless they believed I had perished in the river.
We found a narrow track winding upward, and Toross pushed the
pace here. I would not admit that I found the going increasingly
difficult, but strained my energy to the utmost to keep up. That he
had laid me under debt to him weighed on me also. I was grateful,
as anyone would be grateful for their life given back to them. Yet
that Toross was the giver could cause future difficulties. But
there was no reason to look forward to those — what mattered now
was that we continued to claw our way through the dark.
Though I had lived in the dale all my life, I had only a general
idea of where we might be heading. We needed to get west, but to do
so and pass any enemy patrol, we must first head south. My wet
boots became a torture to my feet. Twice I stopped and wrung out my
skirt as best I could. Now it was plastered to my legs, chafing my
skin.
Toross headed on and up with confidence, as if he knew exactly
where he was bound, and I could only follow and trust in him.
We struck another track, faint, but at least easier footing than
the way we had climbed, and this angled west. If the enemy had not
combed this high, then we were heading around them. Once we heard
more screams out of the night from the opposite bank of the river.
Again I tried to close my ears to what I could in no way help.
Toross did not falter in stride as those sounds reached us, but
padded on. If they moved him to anger I did not know it. We did not
talk as we went, saving all our breath for our exertions.
In spite of every effort, we could not move silently. There were
scrapes of footfall on rock, the crack of a branch underfoot, the
swish of our passing through brush. And after each of those small
betrayals we froze to wait and listen.
Still our fortune held. The moon was rising — a full moon like a
great lantern in the sky. It could show us the pitfalls before us,
but it could also display us to a hunter. Toross halted. Now he
caught my arm and drew me close to whisper in my ear. "We must
cross the river at the traders' ford. It is the only way to reach
the hill-paths."
He was right, of course, but to me that was our death blow.
There was no way we could cross that well-known ford without being
sighted. Even if by some miracle we could get across — why, then we
had a long distance through open fields to traverse.
"We cannot try the ford; they will see us."
"Have you a better plan then, Joisan?"
"None save that we keep west on this side of the river. It is
all sheep pasturage and steep hillsides where they cannot ride us
down without warning."
"Ride us down!" He made a bitter sound that was not laughter.
"They need only point one of their weapons at us from afar and we
die. I have seen what I have seen!"
"Better such a death than to fall into their hands. The ford is
too great a risk."
"Yes," he agreed. "But I do not know this way. If you do,
Joisan, it will be you who will lead us."
What I knew of this upper dale was little enough, and I tried
hard to call it to mind. My hope was a wooded section that was like
a cloak. This had none too good a reputation with the dalesmen and
was seldom entered, mainly because it had been rumored to cover
some ruin of the Old Ones. Such tales were enough to ward off
intruders, and, had we been fleeing any dales pursuit, to gain the
edge of that wood would have given us freedom. But the invaders had
no such traditions to stay them. Now I said nothing of the legend,
only that I thought it would give us shelter. And if we could make
our way through it, we might then continue about the rim of the
dale and straight northwest to join our kin.
As we went, the effort slowed our pace. I fought the great
weariness of my body, made bone and muscle answer my will alone.
How it was with Toross I did not know, but he was not hurrying as
we stumbled on.
The fires of the enemy camp were well behind us. Twice we lay
face-down, hardly breathing, on the hillside, while men moved
below, hoping we could so blend in with the earth. And each time,
while my heart beat wildly, I heard them move on.
So we came to the edge of the wood, and there our luck failed us
just when hope was the strongest. For there was a shout behind and
a harsh crack of noise. Toross cried out and swept me on before
him, pushing me into the underbrush of the ill-omened place. I felt
him sag and fall, and turned to catch him by the shoulders,
half-dragging, half-leading him on with me.
He stumbled forward, almost his whole weight resting on me. In
that moment I though of Dame Math. Oh, that I had her wand in my
hand, the Power strong in me so that I could blast those
behind.
Fire burned on my breast, so hot and fierce a flame, I staggered
and loosed my grip on Toross so that he fell heavily to the ground
moaning. I tore at the lacings of my mail shirt to bring out what
was causing that torment
The gryphon globe in my hand was burning hot. I would have
hurled it from me, but I could not. Before me as I stood came the
sounds of men running, calling out the glow of the globe; that
would reveal us in an instant! Yet I could not throw or drop it. I
could only stand and hold it so, a lamp to draw death to us.
Still the running feet did not come. Rather they bore away,
downhill along the fringe of the wood. I heard an excited shout or
two from the lower slope — almost as if they harried some quarry.
But how could they when we were here with the globe as a
beacon?
My ears reported that they were indeed drawing off. I could
hardly believe that was the truth. With the globe as a battle torch
this thin screen of brush could not conceal us. But we were free,
with the chase going away.
Toross moaned faintly, and I bent over him. There was a growing
stain on his shirt, a thread of blood trickling from his half-open
mouth. What could I do? We must not stay here — I was sure that at
any moment they would return.
I dropped the globe to my breast, where it lay blazing.
There were no burns on my flesh where I had cupped that orb
against my will, though in those moments when I had held it I might
have been grasping a red-hot coal.
"Toross!" To move him might do his wound great harm; to leave
him here certainly meant his death. I had no choice. I must get him
on his feet and moving!
The blaze of the globe lit his crumpled body. As I bent over
him, setting my hands in his armpits, he stirred, opened his eyes
and stared straight up, not seeming to see me at all.
As my hands tightened on him, I had a curious sensation such as
I had never experienced before. Spreading out from that blazing
crystal on my breast came waves of energy. They coursed and rippled
down my arms, through my fingers —
Toross moaned again and coughed, spewing forth blood and froth.
But he wavered upward at my pull. When he was on his feet I set my
shoulder under his, drew his arm about me, and staggered on. His
feet moved clumsily, and most of the weight of his body rested on
me, but I managed to keep him moving.
What saved us was that, though a screen of brush ringed the
wood, there was comparatively little undergrowth beneath the trees,
so we tottered along, heading away from the dangers in the open. I
did not know how far I could manage to half-carry Toross, but I
would keep going as long as I could.
I am not sure when I noticed that we were following a road—or at
least a walk of stones that gave us almost level footing. In the
light of the globe, for it continued to blaze, I could see the
pavement, moss-grown, but quite straight. Toross coughed again with
blood following. And we came out under the moon's rays, the woods a
dark wall as we stood in a paved place into which that white-silver
radiance poured with unnatural force, as if it were focused
directly on us with all the strength the moon could ever have.
Captive to Alizon! All those tales of dark horror that the
refugees told made me expect to be surrounded by demons as I was
jerked farther into the open by the rope that bound my arms to my
body. Still, these were only men, save that there was that in their
faces which made my mouth go dry with fear. A quick death can be
faced, but there are other things . . . They spoke among themselves,
laughing, and their tongue was strange. He who seemed leader among
them came to me and pulled at the still-loose neck-thongs of my
mail, bringing off my hood so my hair, loosened by his roughness,
spilled out across my shoulders. He stroked that, and I longed for
a dagger in my hand. But they were careful to make fast their
noose, and I had no chance.
Thus they brought me back to Ithkrypt, or nearly there. Before
we entered the courtyard where the enemy clustered, there was a
flash of light from the tower, followed by a thunderous sound.
Then, my head ringing from the fearful noise, near-shaken to the
ground, I saw such a thing as I would not have believed. Ithkrypt's
walls began to sway; great gaps appeared between the blocks of
which they were built. And the walls toppled outward, catching and
crushing many of the enemy, while a choking dust arose.
I heard screams and cries through that cloud, and I tried to
run. But fortune was against me, for the end of the rope bound me
kept me helplessly anchored. Had this been the work of those
monsters the invaders landed? I was sure not, for they would not so
have killed their own men.
Dame Math! But how had she done this? I was dumb — by the
evidence of such Power as I believed only one the Old Ones could
conjure; the Old Ones or some Wise One — who had had dealings with the
forbidden. Wise—and—Dame—such were opposed. But before she had
surrendered her will to the Flame and the Sisterhood that paid it
homage, what else had Math been? At any rate the blood-price had
taken here was worthy of our House, as she had promised. In spite
of my own fear I rejoiced that this was so. Valiant had our men
always been. My own father had fallen facing five Waste outlaws,
taking four of them with him. And now these from overseas would
know that our women could fight also!
But this was my only chance to get away. I tugged against the
rope. The murk of the dust was clearing, enough to show what held
me prisoner. He who had led me here lay with the rope about his own
waist, and he was face-down, a broken hunk of stone between his
shoulders.
I thought him dead, and that made me more frenzied in my attempt
to free myself. For to be bound to a dead man was the last horror.
Yet the cord held, and I was as well-tethered as a horse at an inn
door.
So they found me when they came reeling out of the rubble of
Ithkrypt and pounding up from the river. Of our men there were no
signs, save for three bodies we had passed on our way here. I could
only believe that Dagale's force had paid for our escape time with
their lives. Only for a short space were the enemy so disorganized.
I regretted bitterly that we could not have taken advantage of
that; wreaked more damage among them while they were shocked by what
happened. Now I did not doubt that any prisoners they might take
would pay for this unexpected slaughter. Such fear rode me as to
freeze my body, half-stupify my mind.
Dame Math had had the best of it. She had gone to her death,
yes, but in a fitting manner. It was plain I would not be allowed
such an ending, though they did not strike me down when they came
upon me still bound to my captor. Instead they slashed through the
rope and dragged me them out of the ruin of Ithkrypt down to the
river there was a group of officers.
One among them had the speech of the dales, though he mouthed
words gutturally. I was still so deafened by that terrible blast
that I could hardly hear him. When I did not reply to his
questions, he slapped my face viciously, one side and then the
other.
Tears of pain spilled from my eyes and I knew shame that these should see
them. I summoned what small pride me and tried to face them
squarely and with my head became a daughter of my House.
"What—was—there?" He thrust his face close to mine, Ms breath
was foul. He had a brush of beard on his chin, and his cheeks above
that were splotched with red, his nose veined and swollen. His eyes
were keen and cruel, and he was not, I was sure, a stupid man.
There was no need to conceal what I thought I knew, perhaps more
reason to say it, since even these invaders must know that High
Hallack held many secrets, most of them not to be plumbed by
humankind.
"The Power," I said.
I think he read in my face that I spoke a truth I believed. One
of his companions asked a question in that other tongue, and he
made answer, though he did not look from me to the questioner. A
moment later came his second demand.
"Where is the witch?"
Again I told him the truth. Though we did not use that term, I
understood his meaning.
"She was within."
"Well enough." Now he did turn away and make his report to the
others, and they spoke for some time among themselves.
I felt very weak and tired and wished I could drop to the
ground. My head hurt still, as if the assault of sound upon my ears
had injured something far inside my skull, and the despair of my
captivity was a leaden cloak about me. Yet I held as well as I
could to my resolve to keep my pride.
He faced me again, this time looking me up and down searchingly.
In his beard his thick lips grinned in some ways like those men who
had first taken me.
"You are no farm wench, not with mail on your back. I am
thinking we have caught us a prize. But more of that later."
So I was allowed a respite, for at his orders I was left on the
river bank, where their boats clustered and men were still leaping
ashore. To my eyes they seemed as many as the stalks of grain in
the fields, and there was no end to them. How could our small force
have hoped to halt them even for an instant, any more than a single
pebble might halt the flow of a spring flood.
There I also saw what had happened to our men. Some had fallen
in battle. Those were the lucky ones. For the rest — no, I shall
try to hold the doors of memory against what happened to them. I
believed now the invaders were not humans but demons.
I think they took pains for me to see all this in order to break
me. But in that they judged me wrong, for it stiffened rather than
bent me to any will of theirs. It is not how a man dies, but how he
bears that final act that has meaning. And the same is true for a
woman of the dales. In me grew a coldness like the steel from the
Waste, twice-forged and stronger than any other thing in our world.
I swore that Dame Math was right, and I must contrive to make my
own passing count against the enemy.
But it seemed they now forgot me. I was still bound, and they
made the rope fast to one of the boat-chains. Men came and looked
at me from time to time as if I were a prisoned beast. Their hands
were on my hair and my face, and they jabbered at me in their own
tongue, doubltess warning of much I would certainly rue. But none
did more than that. It was coming night, and they had set up a line
of campfires and were driving in sheep and cattle, slaughtering
some of them.
A mounted party had gone down-dale in pursuit of our people. I
besought the Flame that those fleeing had won the rugged land where
their guides could lead them by routes only dalesmen knew.
Once I saw a small party return, heard women screaming for a
while, and knew that some of our people had been run down. I tried
to close my ears, shut off thought. This was that place of Outer
Darkness come to earth, that place to which evil crawls and from
which it issues forth again—and to that evil there is no end.
I tried to plan my own ending before they could turn to me for
amusement. The river—could I hurl myself into the waters there? If
I could edge along the chain to which my rope had been tied, surely
there was a chance.
Toross — dully I wondered what had become of him. I had not seen
his body with those others. Perhaps he had escaped at the last. If
so, I could still find a small, unfrozen part in me that wished him
well. Oddly at that thought his face was vivid in my mind, as sharp
as if he stood before my eyes. Within my mail and under my jerkin
something was warm.
The gryphon. That unlucky bauble which had doomed me to this
state. The gryphon was growing ever warmer, almost like a brand
laid to my skin. From it flooded not only that heat, but something
else, a strength, a belief in myself against all the evidence that
reason provided for my outer eye and ear. It was like some calm
voice assuring me that there was a way out, and that my delivery
was at hand, though I knew this could not be.
Fear became a small, far-off thing, easy to put aside. My sight
was more acute, my hearing keener. My hearing — !
Even through the clamor of the camp I detected that sound. There
was something coming—down-river!
How I knew this, I could not have told. But I knew I must be
ready. Perhaps I was only dazed by fatigue, by my fear and despair.
Yet I was as certain of this rescue as I was that I still lived and
breathed.
"Joisan!" A thread of whisper, but to my alerted ears so near a
shout, I feared all the camp might hear it.
I was afraid to answer aloud, but I turned my head a fraction in
the direction from which they had come, hoping the gesture would
signal my recognition.
"Edge — this — way — " The words came from the river. "If — you
— can — "
Tortuous and slow were my efforts to obey. I kept watch on all
about me, my back to where that voice whispered, lest I somehow
betray this hope. Now I felt wet hands reach up to mine, the swing
of a knife against the rope. That fell away, my stiffened hands
were caught and held; my rescuer was half in the water. "Slip
over!" he ordered.
I wore mail and the dragging skirt. I could not hope to swim so
burdened. Yet it would be better to meet death cleanly. Now I
waited as a party of the invaders tramped along the path. They did
not glance in my direction. Then I rolled over and down into the
water, felt hands catch and drag me even as I gulped air and went
under.
We were in the grip of the current where the stream ran the
swiftest, and my struggles would not surface me for long. I choked
and thought this was the end. Still that other fought for me, with
what poor aid I could give. We came against a rock where he clung
and held my head above the flood.
His face was close to mine, and it was no surprise to see that
Toross held me so.
"Let me go. You have given me clean death, kinsman. For that I
thank you — "
"I give you life!" he replied, and there was stark determination
in his face. "Hold you here, Joisan!" He set my hands to the rock
and I held. He crawled and pulled himself up into the air, and then
by main force, for I had little strength left, dragged me up beside
him. By fortune we had come across the river into rough
pastureland, downstream from the ruins of Ithkrypt, and between us
and the western hills was now the full invader force. Toross was
shivering, and I saw he had stripped to his linen undershirt, his
mail gone. There was a raw slash across his cheek where blood
welled.
"Up!" He caught my arm, pulling at me. My long skirt, so
water-soaked, was like a trap about my legs, and the mail was a
deadweight upon me. But I stumbled forward, unable to believe that
we had actually achieved this much and that the alarm for my escape
had not yet sounded.
Thus we reached some rocks and fell, rather than dropped, behind
them. I fumbled with the lacings of my mail, wanting to be rid of
that, but Toross caught my hands.
"No, you may need that yet. We are far from out of the dragon's
jaws."
Of that I needed no reminding. I had no weapon, and, as far as I
could see, Toross carried none except the knife. Perhaps he had
found a sword too weighty for that swim. We were reduced to that
single blade and perhaps stones snatched from the ground if we were
cornered.
"We must take to the hills." In the growing dark he gestured
up-slope. "And try to work our way around those butchers to join
our people. But we had better wait for full dark."
Something in me urged action, to get as far from those fires,
the noise across the river, as we could. Yet what he said made
sense. To draw upon one's patience was a new ordeal, I now
discovered.
"How — how did you come alive from the river battle?" I
asked.
He touched that slash on his face, which had now clotted again,
giving him a bloody mask to wear. "I took this in the last charge.
It stunned me enough to make them think me dead. When I realized
that I must be dead to escape, I played that part. Then I got away
— but I saw them bring you from Ithkrypt. What happened there,
Joisan? Why did they turn their destruction against their own
men?"
"That was not done by the invaders; it was Dame Math. She used
the Power."
For a moment he was silent and then he demanded, "But how can
such a thing be? She was a Dame — a Dame of Norstead Abbey."
"It seemed that before she swore to the Flame she had other
knowledge. It was her choice to call upon that in the end. Do you
not think we can move now, Toross?" I was shivering in my wet
clothing, trying hard to control the shaking of my body. Though it
was late summer, this eve brought with it the foretaste of
autumn.
"They will be waiting." He was on his knees, peering back to the
river.
"The enemy — have they already climbed so high in the dale?" It
appeared our small gift of fortune was fast-dwindling. "No —
Angarl, Rudo." Toross named the armsmen who had come with him out
of the south. "My mother sent them back, and they were to press me
into going into the hills. Had I not seen you in the hands of our
enemies, the Hounds of Alizon, I might have yielded to them."
That we were not alone, if we could reach his men, gave me a
spark of comfort, though both men were old, sour and dour. Rudo was
one-eyed, and Angarl had lost a hand many years before.
So we began a stealthy withdrawal. I could not honestly
understand why we were not sighted, though we took to all the cover
the rough ground afforded. That there had come no outcry on my
escape was also a mystery. I had expected them early on my trail —
unless they believed I had perished in the river.
We found a narrow track winding upward, and Toross pushed the
pace here. I would not admit that I found the going increasingly
difficult, but strained my energy to the utmost to keep up. That he
had laid me under debt to him weighed on me also. I was grateful,
as anyone would be grateful for their life given back to them. Yet
that Toross was the giver could cause future difficulties. But
there was no reason to look forward to those — what mattered now
was that we continued to claw our way through the dark.
Though I had lived in the dale all my life, I had only a general
idea of where we might be heading. We needed to get west, but to do
so and pass any enemy patrol, we must first head south. My wet
boots became a torture to my feet. Twice I stopped and wrung out my
skirt as best I could. Now it was plastered to my legs, chafing my
skin.
Toross headed on and up with confidence, as if he knew exactly
where he was bound, and I could only follow and trust in him.
We struck another track, faint, but at least easier footing than
the way we had climbed, and this angled west. If the enemy had not
combed this high, then we were heading around them. Once we heard
more screams out of the night from the opposite bank of the river.
Again I tried to close my ears to what I could in no way help.
Toross did not falter in stride as those sounds reached us, but
padded on. If they moved him to anger I did not know it. We did not
talk as we went, saving all our breath for our exertions.
In spite of every effort, we could not move silently. There were
scrapes of footfall on rock, the crack of a branch underfoot, the
swish of our passing through brush. And after each of those small
betrayals we froze to wait and listen.
Still our fortune held. The moon was rising — a full moon like a
great lantern in the sky. It could show us the pitfalls before us,
but it could also display us to a hunter. Toross halted. Now he
caught my arm and drew me close to whisper in my ear. "We must
cross the river at the traders' ford. It is the only way to reach
the hill-paths."
He was right, of course, but to me that was our death blow.
There was no way we could cross that well-known ford without being
sighted. Even if by some miracle we could get across — why, then we
had a long distance through open fields to traverse.
"We cannot try the ford; they will see us."
"Have you a better plan then, Joisan?"
"None save that we keep west on this side of the river. It is
all sheep pasturage and steep hillsides where they cannot ride us
down without warning."
"Ride us down!" He made a bitter sound that was not laughter.
"They need only point one of their weapons at us from afar and we
die. I have seen what I have seen!"
"Better such a death than to fall into their hands. The ford is
too great a risk."
"Yes," he agreed. "But I do not know this way. If you do,
Joisan, it will be you who will lead us."
What I knew of this upper dale was little enough, and I tried
hard to call it to mind. My hope was a wooded section that was like
a cloak. This had none too good a reputation with the dalesmen and
was seldom entered, mainly because it had been rumored to cover
some ruin of the Old Ones. Such tales were enough to ward off
intruders, and, had we been fleeing any dales pursuit, to gain the
edge of that wood would have given us freedom. But the invaders had
no such traditions to stay them. Now I said nothing of the legend,
only that I thought it would give us shelter. And if we could make
our way through it, we might then continue about the rim of the
dale and straight northwest to join our kin.
As we went, the effort slowed our pace. I fought the great
weariness of my body, made bone and muscle answer my will alone.
How it was with Toross I did not know, but he was not hurrying as
we stumbled on.
The fires of the enemy camp were well behind us. Twice we lay
face-down, hardly breathing, on the hillside, while men moved
below, hoping we could so blend in with the earth. And each time,
while my heart beat wildly, I heard them move on.
So we came to the edge of the wood, and there our luck failed us
just when hope was the strongest. For there was a shout behind and
a harsh crack of noise. Toross cried out and swept me on before
him, pushing me into the underbrush of the ill-omened place. I felt
him sag and fall, and turned to catch him by the shoulders,
half-dragging, half-leading him on with me.
He stumbled forward, almost his whole weight resting on me. In
that moment I though of Dame Math. Oh, that I had her wand in my
hand, the Power strong in me so that I could blast those
behind.
Fire burned on my breast, so hot and fierce a flame, I staggered
and loosed my grip on Toross so that he fell heavily to the ground
moaning. I tore at the lacings of my mail shirt to bring out what
was causing that torment
The gryphon globe in my hand was burning hot. I would have
hurled it from me, but I could not. Before me as I stood came the
sounds of men running, calling out the glow of the globe; that
would reveal us in an instant! Yet I could not throw or drop it. I
could only stand and hold it so, a lamp to draw death to us.
Still the running feet did not come. Rather they bore away,
downhill along the fringe of the wood. I heard an excited shout or
two from the lower slope — almost as if they harried some quarry.
But how could they when we were here with the globe as a
beacon?
My ears reported that they were indeed drawing off. I could
hardly believe that was the truth. With the globe as a battle torch
this thin screen of brush could not conceal us. But we were free,
with the chase going away.
Toross moaned faintly, and I bent over him. There was a growing
stain on his shirt, a thread of blood trickling from his half-open
mouth. What could I do? We must not stay here — I was sure that at
any moment they would return.
I dropped the globe to my breast, where it lay blazing.
There were no burns on my flesh where I had cupped that orb
against my will, though in those moments when I had held it I might
have been grasping a red-hot coal.
"Toross!" To move him might do his wound great harm; to leave
him here certainly meant his death. I had no choice. I must get him
on his feet and moving!
The blaze of the globe lit his crumpled body. As I bent over
him, setting my hands in his armpits, he stirred, opened his eyes
and stared straight up, not seeming to see me at all.
As my hands tightened on him, I had a curious sensation such as
I had never experienced before. Spreading out from that blazing
crystal on my breast came waves of energy. They coursed and rippled
down my arms, through my fingers —
Toross moaned again and coughed, spewing forth blood and froth.
But he wavered upward at my pull. When he was on his feet I set my
shoulder under his, drew his arm about me, and staggered on. His
feet moved clumsily, and most of the weight of his body rested on
me, but I managed to keep him moving.
What saved us was that, though a screen of brush ringed the
wood, there was comparatively little undergrowth beneath the trees,
so we tottered along, heading away from the dangers in the open. I
did not know how far I could manage to half-carry Toross, but I
would keep going as long as I could.
I am not sure when I noticed that we were following a road—or at
least a walk of stones that gave us almost level footing. In the
light of the globe, for it continued to blaze, I could see the
pavement, moss-grown, but quite straight. Toross coughed again with
blood following. And we came out under the moon's rays, the woods a
dark wall as we stood in a paved place into which that white-silver
radiance poured with unnatural force, as if it were focused
directly on us with all the strength the moon could ever have.