Once more I stood on heights and looked down to death and
destruction. Wind and wave had brought death to Ulmsdale, but here
destruction had been wrought by the malice of men. It had taken me
ten days to reach the point from which I spied on Ithkrypt, or what
remained of it. One whole day of that time had been spent in
reaching this pinnacle from which I could see a keep battered into
dust.
Oddly enough there were no signs of the crawling monsters that
breached walls in this fashion. Yet there were few stones of the
keep still stacked one upon the other. And it was plain an enemy
force was encamped here.
They had come upriver by boats, and these were drawn up on the
opposite shore of the river.
My duty was divided. This landing must be reported, yet Joisan
was much on my mind. No wonder I had sighted her in that vision
clad in mail and gentle with a dying man.
Was she captive or dead? Back in the trackless wilderness
through which I had come, I had crossed trails of small groups
moving westward, refugees by all evidence. Perhaps she had so fled.
But where in all those leagues of wild land could I find her?
Lord Imgry had set me a duty that was plain. Once more I was
torn between two demands, and I had one thin hope. There were
signal posts in the heights. Messages could be flashed from peak to
peak in the sun by reflection from well-burnished shields; at night
by torches held before the same backing. I knew the northern one of
those, which could not be too far from Ithkrypt. If that had not
been overrun and taken, Imgry would have his warning, and I would
be free to hunt for Joisan.
Using scout skill I slipped away from the vantage point that had
shown me Ithkrypt. There were parties of invaders out, and they
went brashly, with the arrogance of conquerors who had nothing to
fear. Some drove footsore cattle and bleating sheep back to
slaughter in their camp; others worked to the west, seeking
fugitives perhaps, or marking out trails to lead an army inland even
as Imgry had feared, that they might come down on us to crush our
beleaguered force between two of theirs.
I found Hiku an excellent mount for my purposes. The pony seemed
to follow by his own choice that country into which he could merge
so that only one alerted to our presence there could have been
aware of our passing. Also he appeared tireless, able to keep going
when a stable-bred mount might have given out, footsore and
blowing.
That these dales had their natural landmarks was a boon, for I
could so check my direction. But I came across evidence that the
invaders were spreading out from Ithkrypt. And I knew that I would
not be a moment too soon. Perhaps I was already a day or so too
late in sounding the alarm.
I found the crest on which the signal niche was located and
there studied with dismay the traces of those come before me. For
it was the order of such posts that there be no trail pointing to
them; yet here men, more than two or three, had passed openly,
taking no trouble to cover their tracks.
With bare steel in my fist, my war hood laced, I climbed to the
space where I should have found a three-man squad of signal-men.
But death had been before me, as the splashes of clotted blood
testified. There was the socket in which the shield had been set so
it could be readied to either catch the sun or frame the light of a
torch—there was even a broken torch flung to earth and trampled. I
looked south, able to make out the next peak on which one of our
outposts was stationed. Had those attacked here been able to give
the alarm?
Now I applied my forest knowledge to the evidence and decided
that battle had been done in mid-morning. It was now mid-afternoon.
Had they wings, perhaps the invaders could have flown from this
height to the one I could see, but men, mounted or on foot, could
not have already won to that second point in such time. If no
warning had gone forth, I must in some manner give it.
The shield had been wrenched away. I carried none myself, for my
activities as scout had made me discard all such equipment. Signal
— how could I signal without the means?
I chewed a knuckle and tried to think. I had a sword, a long
forester's knife, and a rope worn as a belt about my middle. My
mail was not shining, but coated over on purpose with a greenish
sap which helped to conceal me.
Going forth from the spy niche I looked around—hoping against
hope that the shield might have been tossed away. But that was
rating the enemy too low. There was only one thing I might do, and
in the doing I could bring them back on me as if I had purposefully
lashed a nest of Anda wasps — set a fire. The smoke would not
convey any precise message, as did the wink of reflection from the
shield, but it would warn those ahead.
I searched the ground for wood, carrying it back to the signal
post. My last armful was not culled from the ground under the
gnarled slope trees, but selected from leaves on those same
trees.
I used my strike light and the fire caught, held well. Into it
then I fed, handful by handful, the leaves I had gathered. Billows
of yellowish smoke appeared, along with fumes that drove me
coughing from the fireside, my eyes streaming tears. But as those
cleared I could see a column of smoke reaching well into the sky,
such a mark as no one could miss.
There was little or no wind, even here on the upper slopes, and
the smoke was a well-rounded pillar. This gave me another idea — to
interrupt the smoke and then let it flow again would add emphasis
to the warning. I unstrapped my cloak, and with it in hand went
back to the fire.
It was a chancy business, but, though I was awkward, I managed
to so break the column that no one could mistake it was meant for a
signal. A moment or two later there came a flash from the other
peak that I could read. They had accepted the warning and would now
swing their shield and pass it on. Lord Imgry might not have exact
news from the north, but he would know that the enemy had reached
this point.
My duty done, I must be on my way with all speed—heading
westward. To seek Joisan I could do no more than try to find the
trail of one of those bands of refugees and discover from them what
might have happened to my lady.
If so far fortune had favored me, now that was not true. For I
learned shortly that the pursuit was up, and such pursuit as made
my heart beat fast and dried my mouth as I urged Hiku on. They had
out their hounds!
We speak of those of Alizon as Hounds, naming them so for their
hunters on four legs, which are unlike our own dogs of the chase.
They have gray-white coats, and they are very thin, though large
and long of leg; their heads are narrow, moving with the fluid ease
of a serpent, their eyes yellow.
Few of them were with the invaders, but those we had seen in the
south were deadly, trained to hunt and kill, and with something
about them wholly evil.
As I rode from where that smoke still curled, I heard the sound
of a horn as I had heard it twice before in the south. It was the
summoning of a hound master. I knew that once set on my trail,
those gray-white, flitting ghosts, which had no true kinship with
our guardian dogs of the dale keeps, would ferret me out.
So I set to every trick I knew for covering and confusing my
trail. Yet after each attempt at concealment, a distant yapping
told me I had not escaped. At last Hiku, again of his own accord,
as if no beast brain lay within his skull but some other more
powerful one, tugged loose from my controlling rein and struck to
the north. He half-slid, half-leaped down a crumbling bank into a
stream, and up that, against the current, he splashed his way.
I loosed all rein hold, letting him pick his own path, for he
had found a road which could lead us to freedom. It was plain he
knew exactly what he was doing.
The stream was not river-sized, but perhaps a tributary to the
river that ran through Ithkrypt. The water was very clear. One
could look down to see not only the stones and gravel that floored
it, but also those finned and crawling things to which it was
home.
Suddenly Hiku came to a full stop, the water washing about his
knees. So sudden was that halt that I was nearly shaken from my
seat. The pony swung his head back and forth, lowering it to the
water's edge. Then he whinnied and turned his head as if addressing
me in his own language.
So odd were his actions I knew this was no light matter. As he
lowered his head once more to the stream I believed he was striving
to call my attention to something therein and was growing impatient
at my not understanding some plain message.
I leaned forward to peer into the water ahead. It was impressed
upon me now that Hiku's actions were not unlike those of someone
facing an unsprung trap. Was there some water dweller formidable
enough to threaten the pony?
Easing sword out of sheath, I made ready for attack. The pony
held his head stiffly, as if to guide my attention to a certain
point. I took my bearing from him in my search.
Stones, gravel—then—yes! There was something, hardly to be
distinguished from the natural objects among which it lay.
I dropped from Hiku's back, planting my hoofs securely in the
stream bed against the wash of the current. Then I worked forward
until I could see better.
There was a loop, not of stone, or at least of any stone I had
ever seen, blue-green in color. And it stood upright, seemingly
wedged between two rocks. With infinite care I lowered sword point
into the flood, worked it within that loop, and then raised it.
Though it had looked firmly wedged, it gave to my pull so easily
I was near overbalanced by the release. And I snapped the blade up
in reflex, so that what it held could not slide back into the
water.
Instead it slipped down the length of the blade to clang against
the hilt, touch my fingers. I almost dropped it, or even flung it
from me, for there was an instant flow of energy from the loop into
my flesh.
Gingerly I shook it a little down my sword, away from my
fingers, and then held it closer to my eyes. What ringed my steel
was a wristlet, or even an archer's bow guard, about two fingers's
wide in span. The material was perhaps metal, though like no metal
I knew. Out of the water it glowed, to draw the eye. Though the
overall color was blue-green, now that I saw it close, I made out a
very intricate pattern woven and interwoven of threads of red-gold.
And some of these, I was sure, formed runes.
That this had belonged to the Old Ones I had not the least
doubt, and that it was a thing of power I was sure from Hiku's
action. For we dalesmen know that the instincts of beasts about
some of the ancient remains are more to be relied upon than our
own. Yet when I brought the armlet closer to the pony, he did not
display any of the signs of alarm that I knew would come if this
was the thing of a Dark One. Rather he stretched forth his head as
if he sniffed some pleasing odor rising from it.
Emboldened by his reaction, I touched it with fingertip. Again I
felt that surge of power. At length I conquered my awe and closed
my fingers on it, drawing it off the blade.
Either the flow of energy lessened, or I had become accustomed
to it. Now it was no more than a gentle warmth. And I was reminded
of that other relic — the crystal-enclosed gryphon. Without
thinking I slipped the band over my hand, and it settled and clung
about my wrist snugly, as if it had been made for my wearing alone.
As I held it at eye level, the entwined design appeared to flow, to
move. Quickly I dropped my hand. For the space of a breath or two I
had seen — what? Now that I no longer looked, I could not say —
save that it was very strange, and I was more than a little in awe
of it. Yet I had no desire to take off this find. In fact, when I
glanced at my wrist as I remounted, I had an odd thought that
sometime — somewhere — I had worn such before. But how could that
be? For I would take blood oath I had never seen its like. But then
who can untangle the mysteries of the Old Ones?
Hiku went on briskly, and I listened ever for the sound of the
hound horn, the yap of the pack. Once I thought I did hear it, very
faint and far away, and that heartened me. It would seem that Hiku
had indeed chosen his road well.
As yet he made no move to leave the stream, but continued to
plow through the water steady-footed. I did not urge him, willing
to leave such a choice to him.
The stream curved, and a screen of well-leafed bushes gave way
to show me what lay ahead. Hiku now sought the bank of a sand bar
to the right. But I gazed ahead in amazement. Here was a lake, not
uncommon in the dales, but it was what man — or thinking beings —
had set upon it that surprised me.
The water was bridged completely across the widest part.
However, that crossway was not meant for a roadway, but rather gave
access to a building, not unlike a small keep, erected in the
middle of the water. It presented no windows on the bridge level,
but the next story and two towers, each forming a gate to the
bridge, had narrow slits on the lower levels, wider as they rose in
the towers.
From the shore where we were, the whole structure seemed
untouched by time. But the far end of the bridge, reaching toward
the opposite side of the lake, was gone. The other bridgehead was
not far from us and, strange as the keep appeared (it was clearly
of the Old Ones' time), I thought it offered the best shelter for
the coming night.
Hiku was in no way reluctant to venture onto the bridge, but
went on bravely enough, the ring of his hoofs sounding a hollow
beat-beat which somehow set me to listening, as if I expected a
response from the building ahead.
I saw that I had chosen well, for there was a section of the
bridge meant to be pulled back toward the tower, leaving a
defensive gap between land and keep. Whether that could still be
moved was my first concern. Having crossed, I made fast the end of
my rope to rings there provided.
Hiku pulled valiantly and, dismounted, I lent my strength to
his. At first I thought the movable bridge section too deeply
rooted by time to yield. But after picking with sword point,
digging at free soil and wind-blown leaves, I tried again. This
time, with a shudder, it gave, not to the extent its makers had
intended, but enough to leave a sizable gap between bridge and
tower.
The gate of the keep yawned before me darkly. I blamed myself
for not bringing the makings of a torch with me. Once more I relied
on the pony's senses. When I released him from the drag rope, he
gave a great sigh and footed slowly forward, unled or urged, his
head hanging a little. I followed after, sure we had come to a
place where old dreams might cluster, but that was empty of threat
for us now.
Over us arched the bulk of the tower, but there was light
beyond, and we came into a courtyard into which opened the main
rooms of the structure. If it had been built on a natural island,
there was no trace of that, for the walls went straight down on the
outer side to the water. In the courtyard a balcony, reached by a
flight of stairs on either side, ran from one gate tower to the
other, both right and left.
In the center of the open space there were growing things.
Grass, bushes, even a couple of small trees, shared crowded space.
Hiku fell to grazing as if he had known all along that this
particular pasture awaited him. I wondered if he did; if Neevor had
come this way.
I dropped my journey bag and went on, passing through the other
tower gate out to the matching bridge. It was firm, uneroded. I
thought of the wide differences among the Old Ones' ruins. For some
may be as ill-treated by time as those Riwal and I had found along
the Waste road, and others stand as sturdy as if their makers had
moved out only yesterday.
When I came to the cutoff end of the bridge, I found — not as I
had half-expected now, a section pulled back — but that the bridge
material was fused into glassy slag. I stretched my hand to touch
that surface and felt a sharp throb of pain. On my wrist the band
was glowing, and I accepted what I believed to be a warning. I
retreated to the courtyard.
Wood I found in the garden, if garden it had been. But I did not
hasten to make a torch. I had no desire now to enter the balcony
rooms to explore in the upper reaches of the towers. Instead I
scraped up dried grass of an earlier season, and with my cloak,
which still reeked of the signal smoke, I made a bed. In my
exploration I found water running from a pipe that ended in a
curious head, the stream pouring from both mouth and eyes into a
trough and then away along a runnel. Hiku drank there without
hesitation, and I washed my smut-streaked face and hands and drank
my fill.
I ate one of my cakes, crumbled another, and spread it on wide
leaves for Hiku. He relished that and only went back to grazing
when he had caught up the last possible crumb with his tongue.
Settling back on my cloak bed, my battle hood unlaced, and as
comfortable as any scout can be in the field, I lay looking up at
the stars as the night closed down.
One could hear the wash of water outside the walls, the buzz of
an insect, and, a little later, the call of some night hunter on
wings. The upper reaches of the tower could well house both owls
and nighthawks. But for the rest there was a great quiet that
matched an emptiness in this place.
I was heartened by what seemed to be the good fortune of this
day — the fact that my signal had been read, the finding of the
talisman —
Talisman? Why had my thoughts so named the armlet? I sought it
now with the fingers of my other hand. It was slightly warm to the
touch; it fitted my wrist so snugly, it did not turn as I rubbed
it, yet I was aware of no punishing constriction. I felt, under my
fingertips, that the designs upon it were in slight relief, and I
found that I was trying to follow this line or that by touch alone.
I was still doing it as sleep overcame me.
That sleep was deep, dreamless, and I awoke from it refreshed
and with confidence. It seemed to me that I could face without
fears all this day might bring, and I was eager to be gone.
Hiku stood by the trough, shaking his head, the water flying in
drops from his muzzle. I hailed him happily as if he could answer
me in human speech. He nickered as though he found this a morning
to make one feel joyfully alive.
Even though I had daylight as an aid, I had no wish to explore.
The driving need to know what had happened to Joisan was part of
me. I waited only to eat, and then I readied to leave.
Whether the portion of the bridge that had moved at our urging
last night could now be replaced, I began to wonder.
When we came to the portion lying on top of the other surface, I
examined it with care. In the bright light of day I saw, jutting up
on the north side of the parapet, a rod as thick as my forearm.
This was too short to have been a support for anything overhead,
but it must have a purpose, and I hoped it dealt with the controls
on the bridge. In test I bore down on it with all my strength, and
nothing happened. From steady pressure I turned to quick, sharp
jerks. There was a hard grating, it loosened, and once more I
applied pressure.
The bridge section we had worked with such infinite labor to
drag back trembled and began, with screeches of protest, to edge
forward. It did not quite complete the span again, but lacked only
perhaps a foot of locking together. The gap was not enough to
prison us.
Back on shore, before I mounted Hiku, I gazed back at the lake
keep. It was so strongly built a fortress, so easily defended, that
I marked it down to serve at some future time. With the bridge
drawn back, even the crawling monsters of the invaders could not
reach it. And its lower walls without breaks could safely hide a
third of the army in the south. Yes, this was a fortress that we
might make good use of.
Now as I turned Hiku north, planning to cut across refugee
trails heading west, I saw that the land about this portion of the
lake must once have been under plow. There were even patches of
stunted grain still growing. I passed an orchard of trees with
ripening fruit. This land must have fed the lake dwellers once. I
would have liked to explore, but Joisan's plight did not allow
that.
A day it took me to cross that countryside to the next rise of
hills. I saw animals in plenty, deer grazing, which meant no
hunters. Among them, as I neared the hills, were some gaunt and
wild-eyed cattle which I believed had been lost from some herd
harried by the invaders. Those sighting me snorted and galloped
away clumsily.
As I re-entered the hills, I found the cattle's trail marked by
hoof prints and droppings. It angled through a rift, and I followed
it warily, hoping for an easy passage, but also aware that the
cattle might be hunted.
Yet I met no enemy. At length, a day later, I chanced directly
on what I sought, tracks left by a small band who were not
forest-trained enough to hide their going. There were only three
horses, and most of the traces had been left by women and children.
These must be fugitives from Ithdale, and though there was one
chance in perhaps a thousand of Joisan being among them, I might
learn something of her.
The tracks were several days old. They tried to head west, but
the nature of the rough ground kept pushing them south instead. And
this was wild country.
On the morning of the fourth day of trailing, I came to the top
of a ridge and, smelling smoke, I crept up to make sure this was
the party I sought and not a band of enemy scouts.
The valley was wider here, with a stream in its middle. By the
banks of that were shelters of hacked branches covered with other
branches and grass. A woman bent over a fire, feeding it one stick
at a time. As I watched a second figure crept from one of those
lean-tos and straightened to full height.
Morning light caught the glitter of mail that the newcomer was
now pulling on. Her head was bare, her hair tied back in a
red-brown rope falling between her shoulders. Fortune had favored
me once again — that this was indeed Joisan, though I was too far
to see her face, I was somehow sure.
My purpose was now clear. I must front her as soon as possible.
And when she moved purposefully away from the fire and set off
along the river, I was glad. I wanted to meet her alone, not under
the staring eyes of her people.
If she were to turn from me in disgust at the sight of my hoofs,
any relationship would end before it was begun. I must know that
without witnesses. I slipped down-slope to intercept her, using the
same caution I would have had she been the enemy.
Once more I stood on heights and looked down to death and
destruction. Wind and wave had brought death to Ulmsdale, but here
destruction had been wrought by the malice of men. It had taken me
ten days to reach the point from which I spied on Ithkrypt, or what
remained of it. One whole day of that time had been spent in
reaching this pinnacle from which I could see a keep battered into
dust.
Oddly enough there were no signs of the crawling monsters that
breached walls in this fashion. Yet there were few stones of the
keep still stacked one upon the other. And it was plain an enemy
force was encamped here.
They had come upriver by boats, and these were drawn up on the
opposite shore of the river.
My duty was divided. This landing must be reported, yet Joisan
was much on my mind. No wonder I had sighted her in that vision
clad in mail and gentle with a dying man.
Was she captive or dead? Back in the trackless wilderness
through which I had come, I had crossed trails of small groups
moving westward, refugees by all evidence. Perhaps she had so fled.
But where in all those leagues of wild land could I find her?
Lord Imgry had set me a duty that was plain. Once more I was
torn between two demands, and I had one thin hope. There were
signal posts in the heights. Messages could be flashed from peak to
peak in the sun by reflection from well-burnished shields; at night
by torches held before the same backing. I knew the northern one of
those, which could not be too far from Ithkrypt. If that had not
been overrun and taken, Imgry would have his warning, and I would
be free to hunt for Joisan.
Using scout skill I slipped away from the vantage point that had
shown me Ithkrypt. There were parties of invaders out, and they
went brashly, with the arrogance of conquerors who had nothing to
fear. Some drove footsore cattle and bleating sheep back to
slaughter in their camp; others worked to the west, seeking
fugitives perhaps, or marking out trails to lead an army inland even
as Imgry had feared, that they might come down on us to crush our
beleaguered force between two of theirs.
I found Hiku an excellent mount for my purposes. The pony seemed
to follow by his own choice that country into which he could merge
so that only one alerted to our presence there could have been
aware of our passing. Also he appeared tireless, able to keep going
when a stable-bred mount might have given out, footsore and
blowing.
That these dales had their natural landmarks was a boon, for I
could so check my direction. But I came across evidence that the
invaders were spreading out from Ithkrypt. And I knew that I would
not be a moment too soon. Perhaps I was already a day or so too
late in sounding the alarm.
I found the crest on which the signal niche was located and
there studied with dismay the traces of those come before me. For
it was the order of such posts that there be no trail pointing to
them; yet here men, more than two or three, had passed openly,
taking no trouble to cover their tracks.
With bare steel in my fist, my war hood laced, I climbed to the
space where I should have found a three-man squad of signal-men.
But death had been before me, as the splashes of clotted blood
testified. There was the socket in which the shield had been set so
it could be readied to either catch the sun or frame the light of a
torch—there was even a broken torch flung to earth and trampled. I
looked south, able to make out the next peak on which one of our
outposts was stationed. Had those attacked here been able to give
the alarm?
Now I applied my forest knowledge to the evidence and decided
that battle had been done in mid-morning. It was now mid-afternoon.
Had they wings, perhaps the invaders could have flown from this
height to the one I could see, but men, mounted or on foot, could
not have already won to that second point in such time. If no
warning had gone forth, I must in some manner give it.
The shield had been wrenched away. I carried none myself, for my
activities as scout had made me discard all such equipment. Signal
— how could I signal without the means?
I chewed a knuckle and tried to think. I had a sword, a long
forester's knife, and a rope worn as a belt about my middle. My
mail was not shining, but coated over on purpose with a greenish
sap which helped to conceal me.
Going forth from the spy niche I looked around—hoping against
hope that the shield might have been tossed away. But that was
rating the enemy too low. There was only one thing I might do, and
in the doing I could bring them back on me as if I had purposefully
lashed a nest of Anda wasps — set a fire. The smoke would not
convey any precise message, as did the wink of reflection from the
shield, but it would warn those ahead.
I searched the ground for wood, carrying it back to the signal
post. My last armful was not culled from the ground under the
gnarled slope trees, but selected from leaves on those same
trees.
I used my strike light and the fire caught, held well. Into it
then I fed, handful by handful, the leaves I had gathered. Billows
of yellowish smoke appeared, along with fumes that drove me
coughing from the fireside, my eyes streaming tears. But as those
cleared I could see a column of smoke reaching well into the sky,
such a mark as no one could miss.
There was little or no wind, even here on the upper slopes, and
the smoke was a well-rounded pillar. This gave me another idea — to
interrupt the smoke and then let it flow again would add emphasis
to the warning. I unstrapped my cloak, and with it in hand went
back to the fire.
It was a chancy business, but, though I was awkward, I managed
to so break the column that no one could mistake it was meant for a
signal. A moment or two later there came a flash from the other
peak that I could read. They had accepted the warning and would now
swing their shield and pass it on. Lord Imgry might not have exact
news from the north, but he would know that the enemy had reached
this point.
My duty done, I must be on my way with all speed—heading
westward. To seek Joisan I could do no more than try to find the
trail of one of those bands of refugees and discover from them what
might have happened to my lady.
If so far fortune had favored me, now that was not true. For I
learned shortly that the pursuit was up, and such pursuit as made
my heart beat fast and dried my mouth as I urged Hiku on. They had
out their hounds!
We speak of those of Alizon as Hounds, naming them so for their
hunters on four legs, which are unlike our own dogs of the chase.
They have gray-white coats, and they are very thin, though large
and long of leg; their heads are narrow, moving with the fluid ease
of a serpent, their eyes yellow.
Few of them were with the invaders, but those we had seen in the
south were deadly, trained to hunt and kill, and with something
about them wholly evil.
As I rode from where that smoke still curled, I heard the sound
of a horn as I had heard it twice before in the south. It was the
summoning of a hound master. I knew that once set on my trail,
those gray-white, flitting ghosts, which had no true kinship with
our guardian dogs of the dale keeps, would ferret me out.
So I set to every trick I knew for covering and confusing my
trail. Yet after each attempt at concealment, a distant yapping
told me I had not escaped. At last Hiku, again of his own accord,
as if no beast brain lay within his skull but some other more
powerful one, tugged loose from my controlling rein and struck to
the north. He half-slid, half-leaped down a crumbling bank into a
stream, and up that, against the current, he splashed his way.
I loosed all rein hold, letting him pick his own path, for he
had found a road which could lead us to freedom. It was plain he
knew exactly what he was doing.
The stream was not river-sized, but perhaps a tributary to the
river that ran through Ithkrypt. The water was very clear. One
could look down to see not only the stones and gravel that floored
it, but also those finned and crawling things to which it was
home.
Suddenly Hiku came to a full stop, the water washing about his
knees. So sudden was that halt that I was nearly shaken from my
seat. The pony swung his head back and forth, lowering it to the
water's edge. Then he whinnied and turned his head as if addressing
me in his own language.
So odd were his actions I knew this was no light matter. As he
lowered his head once more to the stream I believed he was striving
to call my attention to something therein and was growing impatient
at my not understanding some plain message.
I leaned forward to peer into the water ahead. It was impressed
upon me now that Hiku's actions were not unlike those of someone
facing an unsprung trap. Was there some water dweller formidable
enough to threaten the pony?
Easing sword out of sheath, I made ready for attack. The pony
held his head stiffly, as if to guide my attention to a certain
point. I took my bearing from him in my search.
Stones, gravel—then—yes! There was something, hardly to be
distinguished from the natural objects among which it lay.
I dropped from Hiku's back, planting my hoofs securely in the
stream bed against the wash of the current. Then I worked forward
until I could see better.
There was a loop, not of stone, or at least of any stone I had
ever seen, blue-green in color. And it stood upright, seemingly
wedged between two rocks. With infinite care I lowered sword point
into the flood, worked it within that loop, and then raised it.
Though it had looked firmly wedged, it gave to my pull so easily
I was near overbalanced by the release. And I snapped the blade up
in reflex, so that what it held could not slide back into the
water.
Instead it slipped down the length of the blade to clang against
the hilt, touch my fingers. I almost dropped it, or even flung it
from me, for there was an instant flow of energy from the loop into
my flesh.
Gingerly I shook it a little down my sword, away from my
fingers, and then held it closer to my eyes. What ringed my steel
was a wristlet, or even an archer's bow guard, about two fingers's
wide in span. The material was perhaps metal, though like no metal
I knew. Out of the water it glowed, to draw the eye. Though the
overall color was blue-green, now that I saw it close, I made out a
very intricate pattern woven and interwoven of threads of red-gold.
And some of these, I was sure, formed runes.
That this had belonged to the Old Ones I had not the least
doubt, and that it was a thing of power I was sure from Hiku's
action. For we dalesmen know that the instincts of beasts about
some of the ancient remains are more to be relied upon than our
own. Yet when I brought the armlet closer to the pony, he did not
display any of the signs of alarm that I knew would come if this
was the thing of a Dark One. Rather he stretched forth his head as
if he sniffed some pleasing odor rising from it.
Emboldened by his reaction, I touched it with fingertip. Again I
felt that surge of power. At length I conquered my awe and closed
my fingers on it, drawing it off the blade.
Either the flow of energy lessened, or I had become accustomed
to it. Now it was no more than a gentle warmth. And I was reminded
of that other relic — the crystal-enclosed gryphon. Without
thinking I slipped the band over my hand, and it settled and clung
about my wrist snugly, as if it had been made for my wearing alone.
As I held it at eye level, the entwined design appeared to flow, to
move. Quickly I dropped my hand. For the space of a breath or two I
had seen — what? Now that I no longer looked, I could not say —
save that it was very strange, and I was more than a little in awe
of it. Yet I had no desire to take off this find. In fact, when I
glanced at my wrist as I remounted, I had an odd thought that
sometime — somewhere — I had worn such before. But how could that
be? For I would take blood oath I had never seen its like. But then
who can untangle the mysteries of the Old Ones?
Hiku went on briskly, and I listened ever for the sound of the
hound horn, the yap of the pack. Once I thought I did hear it, very
faint and far away, and that heartened me. It would seem that Hiku
had indeed chosen his road well.
As yet he made no move to leave the stream, but continued to
plow through the water steady-footed. I did not urge him, willing
to leave such a choice to him.
The stream curved, and a screen of well-leafed bushes gave way
to show me what lay ahead. Hiku now sought the bank of a sand bar
to the right. But I gazed ahead in amazement. Here was a lake, not
uncommon in the dales, but it was what man — or thinking beings —
had set upon it that surprised me.
The water was bridged completely across the widest part.
However, that crossway was not meant for a roadway, but rather gave
access to a building, not unlike a small keep, erected in the
middle of the water. It presented no windows on the bridge level,
but the next story and two towers, each forming a gate to the
bridge, had narrow slits on the lower levels, wider as they rose in
the towers.
From the shore where we were, the whole structure seemed
untouched by time. But the far end of the bridge, reaching toward
the opposite side of the lake, was gone. The other bridgehead was
not far from us and, strange as the keep appeared (it was clearly
of the Old Ones' time), I thought it offered the best shelter for
the coming night.
Hiku was in no way reluctant to venture onto the bridge, but
went on bravely enough, the ring of his hoofs sounding a hollow
beat-beat which somehow set me to listening, as if I expected a
response from the building ahead.
I saw that I had chosen well, for there was a section of the
bridge meant to be pulled back toward the tower, leaving a
defensive gap between land and keep. Whether that could still be
moved was my first concern. Having crossed, I made fast the end of
my rope to rings there provided.
Hiku pulled valiantly and, dismounted, I lent my strength to
his. At first I thought the movable bridge section too deeply
rooted by time to yield. But after picking with sword point,
digging at free soil and wind-blown leaves, I tried again. This
time, with a shudder, it gave, not to the extent its makers had
intended, but enough to leave a sizable gap between bridge and
tower.
The gate of the keep yawned before me darkly. I blamed myself
for not bringing the makings of a torch with me. Once more I relied
on the pony's senses. When I released him from the drag rope, he
gave a great sigh and footed slowly forward, unled or urged, his
head hanging a little. I followed after, sure we had come to a
place where old dreams might cluster, but that was empty of threat
for us now.
Over us arched the bulk of the tower, but there was light
beyond, and we came into a courtyard into which opened the main
rooms of the structure. If it had been built on a natural island,
there was no trace of that, for the walls went straight down on the
outer side to the water. In the courtyard a balcony, reached by a
flight of stairs on either side, ran from one gate tower to the
other, both right and left.
In the center of the open space there were growing things.
Grass, bushes, even a couple of small trees, shared crowded space.
Hiku fell to grazing as if he had known all along that this
particular pasture awaited him. I wondered if he did; if Neevor had
come this way.
I dropped my journey bag and went on, passing through the other
tower gate out to the matching bridge. It was firm, uneroded. I
thought of the wide differences among the Old Ones' ruins. For some
may be as ill-treated by time as those Riwal and I had found along
the Waste road, and others stand as sturdy as if their makers had
moved out only yesterday.
When I came to the cutoff end of the bridge, I found — not as I
had half-expected now, a section pulled back — but that the bridge
material was fused into glassy slag. I stretched my hand to touch
that surface and felt a sharp throb of pain. On my wrist the band
was glowing, and I accepted what I believed to be a warning. I
retreated to the courtyard.
Wood I found in the garden, if garden it had been. But I did not
hasten to make a torch. I had no desire now to enter the balcony
rooms to explore in the upper reaches of the towers. Instead I
scraped up dried grass of an earlier season, and with my cloak,
which still reeked of the signal smoke, I made a bed. In my
exploration I found water running from a pipe that ended in a
curious head, the stream pouring from both mouth and eyes into a
trough and then away along a runnel. Hiku drank there without
hesitation, and I washed my smut-streaked face and hands and drank
my fill.
I ate one of my cakes, crumbled another, and spread it on wide
leaves for Hiku. He relished that and only went back to grazing
when he had caught up the last possible crumb with his tongue.
Settling back on my cloak bed, my battle hood unlaced, and as
comfortable as any scout can be in the field, I lay looking up at
the stars as the night closed down.
One could hear the wash of water outside the walls, the buzz of
an insect, and, a little later, the call of some night hunter on
wings. The upper reaches of the tower could well house both owls
and nighthawks. But for the rest there was a great quiet that
matched an emptiness in this place.
I was heartened by what seemed to be the good fortune of this
day — the fact that my signal had been read, the finding of the
talisman —
Talisman? Why had my thoughts so named the armlet? I sought it
now with the fingers of my other hand. It was slightly warm to the
touch; it fitted my wrist so snugly, it did not turn as I rubbed
it, yet I was aware of no punishing constriction. I felt, under my
fingertips, that the designs upon it were in slight relief, and I
found that I was trying to follow this line or that by touch alone.
I was still doing it as sleep overcame me.
That sleep was deep, dreamless, and I awoke from it refreshed
and with confidence. It seemed to me that I could face without
fears all this day might bring, and I was eager to be gone.
Hiku stood by the trough, shaking his head, the water flying in
drops from his muzzle. I hailed him happily as if he could answer
me in human speech. He nickered as though he found this a morning
to make one feel joyfully alive.
Even though I had daylight as an aid, I had no wish to explore.
The driving need to know what had happened to Joisan was part of
me. I waited only to eat, and then I readied to leave.
Whether the portion of the bridge that had moved at our urging
last night could now be replaced, I began to wonder.
When we came to the portion lying on top of the other surface, I
examined it with care. In the bright light of day I saw, jutting up
on the north side of the parapet, a rod as thick as my forearm.
This was too short to have been a support for anything overhead,
but it must have a purpose, and I hoped it dealt with the controls
on the bridge. In test I bore down on it with all my strength, and
nothing happened. From steady pressure I turned to quick, sharp
jerks. There was a hard grating, it loosened, and once more I
applied pressure.
The bridge section we had worked with such infinite labor to
drag back trembled and began, with screeches of protest, to edge
forward. It did not quite complete the span again, but lacked only
perhaps a foot of locking together. The gap was not enough to
prison us.
Back on shore, before I mounted Hiku, I gazed back at the lake
keep. It was so strongly built a fortress, so easily defended, that
I marked it down to serve at some future time. With the bridge
drawn back, even the crawling monsters of the invaders could not
reach it. And its lower walls without breaks could safely hide a
third of the army in the south. Yes, this was a fortress that we
might make good use of.
Now as I turned Hiku north, planning to cut across refugee
trails heading west, I saw that the land about this portion of the
lake must once have been under plow. There were even patches of
stunted grain still growing. I passed an orchard of trees with
ripening fruit. This land must have fed the lake dwellers once. I
would have liked to explore, but Joisan's plight did not allow
that.
A day it took me to cross that countryside to the next rise of
hills. I saw animals in plenty, deer grazing, which meant no
hunters. Among them, as I neared the hills, were some gaunt and
wild-eyed cattle which I believed had been lost from some herd
harried by the invaders. Those sighting me snorted and galloped
away clumsily.
As I re-entered the hills, I found the cattle's trail marked by
hoof prints and droppings. It angled through a rift, and I followed
it warily, hoping for an easy passage, but also aware that the
cattle might be hunted.
Yet I met no enemy. At length, a day later, I chanced directly
on what I sought, tracks left by a small band who were not
forest-trained enough to hide their going. There were only three
horses, and most of the traces had been left by women and children.
These must be fugitives from Ithdale, and though there was one
chance in perhaps a thousand of Joisan being among them, I might
learn something of her.
The tracks were several days old. They tried to head west, but
the nature of the rough ground kept pushing them south instead. And
this was wild country.
On the morning of the fourth day of trailing, I came to the top
of a ridge and, smelling smoke, I crept up to make sure this was
the party I sought and not a band of enemy scouts.
The valley was wider here, with a stream in its middle. By the
banks of that were shelters of hacked branches covered with other
branches and grass. A woman bent over a fire, feeding it one stick
at a time. As I watched a second figure crept from one of those
lean-tos and straightened to full height.
Morning light caught the glitter of mail that the newcomer was
now pulling on. Her head was bare, her hair tied back in a
red-brown rope falling between her shoulders. Fortune had favored
me once again — that this was indeed Joisan, though I was too far
to see her face, I was somehow sure.
My purpose was now clear. I must front her as soon as possible.
And when she moved purposefully away from the fire and set off
along the river, I was glad. I wanted to meet her alone, not under
the staring eyes of her people.
If she were to turn from me in disgust at the sight of my hoofs,
any relationship would end before it was begun. I must know that
without witnesses. I slipped down-slope to intercept her, using the
same caution I would have had she been the enemy.