Dus - Sword Of Bheleu Part 22

The room was suddenly flooded with golden light, and the four stared in astonishment.

The chamber was perhaps thirty feet wide, but so long that its far end could not be seen in the conjured light. The walls were lined with shelves of books, row after row of chests, hundreds of pegs from which hung amulets and talismans of every sort, and racks which held scepters, staves, orbs, jewels, swords, daggers, cups, plates, goblets, spears, stones, carvings, statues, sacks, pouches, jars, phials, and a hundred other implements and objects. More chests were lined up down the center of the room. Many objects glowed or glittered, and soft rustlings could be heard.

Directly before them stood an immense reading stand carved of some dark, rich wood, which held a great black-bound book.

Everything was brightly and clearly lighted for fifty yards of the room's length, but without shadows and with no apparent source of light.

"How did you do that?" Thetheru asked Shandiph.

"You mean the light? I learned a little theurgy years ago; it's a simple invocation. If you mean the door, I didn't do anything except what you saw. It must have been ensorcelled to recognize the seal of office."

"What is all this stuff?" Karag demanded, astonished.

Shandiph shrugged. "How should I know?" He stepped forward and looked at the lone book on the stand. "I think that this must be here where we see it for a reason." He opened the book at random and let the front cover fall back against the stand.

Pages flipped over without his touch; when they stopped, he read aloud, "This book is the true compendium of all arcane knowledge gathered in this room, compiled to guide those who come after us in the use of our arts."

"Useful," Deriam remarked."How can one volume explain all this?" Thetheru asked, gesturing at the thousands of books and tens of thousands of other objects.

Pages turned, and Shandiph read, "This book has been enchanted and will answer your every question. Speak, and you shall be answered; ask, and you shall know, that the glory of the Council of the Most High may be reborn upon the earth." He smiled. "So much for secrecy," he said. "It appears that our predecessors didn't expect it to last forever."

"Shandiph," Deriam said, "this is all too much for me. What are all these things? This is far more than I had imagined we would find."

A single page turned, and Shandiph read, "Gathered before you is every magical spell and power known to our members at the end of this Twelfth Age, save those thought too minor to waste s.p.a.ce upon, and those that have been withheld by the power of the G.o.ds or reserved for the continued use of the Council's master."

"I think this is more than we can handle," Thetheru said. "I think we should contact the rest of the Council before we go any further."

A thick sheaf of pages flung itself over with an audible thump, and Thetheru looked at it in surprise. "I didn't ask a question," he said.

"The Greater Spell of Summoning has been embodied for your use in spheres of red crystal, stored in the first chest on your left," Shandiph read. "The shattering of one of these crystals in the heart of a well-drawn pentagram will bring you instantly whomsoever you shall name aloud while the smoke is thick."

"The thing dares to advise us!" Karag exclaimed.

"We should use it, though," Thetheru said. "Where is chalk for a pentagram?"

A page riffled over, but Shandiph did not bother to read what it said, as Deriam announced, "There is already a pentagram here, on the floor, inlaid in gold."

The other three looked, and Deriam was correct; a thin layer of dust had hidden the golden star.

Shandiph was already on the way to the chest indicated by the book by the time Karag and Thetheru had convinced themselves of the pentagram's reality. He opened it and found that a dozen identical spheres of red crystal, each the size of a clenched fist, were arrayed in a tray at one end. The rest of the chest held an a.s.sortment of other fascinating devices, but he resolved to leave those for later. He picked out a single red globe and, with a careful toss, flung it into the center of the pentagram. It shattered spectacularly when it hit the floor, and an impossibly thick cloud of red smoke billowed forth.

"Chalkara of Kholis, Derelind the Hermit, Miloshir the Theurgist, Herina the Stargazer, Veyel of Nekutta, the sorceress Zhinza, the mage Ranendin, the Baron Dor of Therin, Kala of Mara, Sharatha of Ilnan," he recited quickly.

The smoke continued to roll outward in a solid, spreading ma.s.s, with no sign of thinning; Shandiph continued his listing. "Kubal of Tadumuri, Haladar of Mara, Sherek the Thaumaturge!" He was beginning to have trouble remembering which other councilors had been at Kholis. "Amarda the Blood Drinker! Linder the Nightwalker!"

Vague shapes were becoming visible in the seething red cloud, which had reached out far enough to surround the original party of four. "The Seer of Weideth!" Shandiph added. There were still one or two others, he knew. "The wizard Alagar..." Were there still more?

The smoke showed the first signs of dispersing, and it occurred to him that he need not restrict himself to those who had attended the meetings. He remembered one more who had been at Kholis, though, and named him first, saying, "Phamakh the Wise!"

Abruptly the red fog thinned and vanished, and the room was suddenly crowded. Every person he had named was present, jammed together in the area around the golden pentagram; all were looking about themselves with varying mixtures of surprise and fear.Shandiph realized that he had missed an opportunity to settle Shang's fate definitely once and for all by summoning him as well; or he might have called for someone who could provide a firsthand account of recent events in Dusarra. He considered using another of the crystal spheres, but decided against it.

There was a sudden babble of voices as the new arrivals all began to talk at once; the only question that was decipherable in the confusion of noise was one that was repeated by several speakers, though the pages of the guidebook riffled wildly in trying to answer every startled query.

"Where are we?" was the one question that could be understood.

"Fellow councilors!" Shandiph called. "Your attention, please!"

The questions ceased, the book's pages lay still, and the entire group turned to face him.

"You are in the vault where our ancestors placed much of their magic for safekeeping; you were brought here by an ancient spell because we felt that the unexpected wealth of this lost magic was more than we four could handle by ourselves. If you will look around you, you will see that there is far more here than was antic.i.p.ated; every single thing in this chamber is magical, it appears, and every book here contains arcane knowledge. As may be determined by the ease with which you were brought here, using a single, simple device-beware that you don't step on those shards of gla.s.s-much of this magic is extremely potent by our standards. We thought that all of you should have some say in the management of this treasure trove."

"You thought so, Shandiph, you and Thetheru," Karag said. "We four were appointed as representatives, and I see no need to waste time in further debate. We were sent to find powerful weapons to use against the overman Garth, and there are undoubtedly powerful weapons here around us. I say that we should find them, using that guidebook, and then go and deal with this overman and his magic sword before he becomes any more dangerous than he already is."

There were a few calls of support from the gathered crowd and several shouted questions; once again, the guidebook tossed pages back and forth, attempting to answer them all at once.

"Shandiph, where are we? Where is this vault?" someone called over the general din. Shandiph looked for the speaker and tried to call an answer.

Deriam and Thetheru were each beset by two or three of their comrades demanding explanations; most of the others crowded around Shandiph, barraging him with questions and opinions. Karag, too, drew his share of attention; the wizard Alagar and Kubal of Tadumuri, both old friends, came toward him. One or two individuals wandered off down the long room, looking at the thousands of trinkets and talismans.

Karag saw an opportunity in this complete disorganization and made his way to the reading stand, where he asked in a low voice, "What are the most powerful weapons in this chamber, and where are they to be found?"

Alagar and Kubal watched with him, saying nothing, as the pages turned and revealed a long list-much too long to be of use.

"Which of these are the three mightiest and most effective?" he asked.

Two pages flipped back, and Karag read, "The Ring of P'hul, on the Chairman's ring finger, the Great Staff of Power, first in the third rack of staves on the right-hand wall, and the Blood-Sword of Hishan of Darbul, fifth in the second rack of blades on the right-hand wall."

"We can't use the Ring," Alagar whispered.

"You both intend to join me; then?"

"Yes, of course," Kubal replied. "These fools will be arguing for hours.

They'll thank us when it's done."

"True enough. All right, book, what is the fourth most powerful among the weapons here?"

The book turned a few pages. "The Sword of Koros," Kubal read. "I'll take that."

"I'll take the other sword," Alagar said."And I'll take the staff," Karag agreed.

"Karag, what are you doing?" Shandiph called. He had finally noticed that the other was using the guidebook.

"I thought that the book might be able to advise us on how to proceed."

"Has it?"

"No, not yet; give it a few more minutes."

"Well..." Shandiph was uncertain. Karag was impetuous, he knew, but usually meant well. Several of the newcomers had given him news that directly concerned Karag, but he was distracted by another question about the guidebook's working before he could tell Karag. He decided to trust Karag for the moment and to wait before telling him that his secret departure from the High King's castle had led to a dispute between the King and the Baron of Sland. Chalkara said that the Baron had accused the King of kidnapping Karag to deprive the Baron of his services. There was a. great deal of acrimonious talk going on, though no action had yet been taken.

While Karag and Shandiph spoke. Alagar had been using the book; when Karag looked down again it was to find complete instructions for the use of the three weapons chosen. He read through them quickly, as did Alagar and Kubal.

Shandiph remained distracted; the Baron of Therin had been conjured in his true person, rather than the simulacrum that had come to Kholis, and was therefore able to relay information. The disappearance of the other magicians was creating quite a stir, and Dor's other self, together with Sindolmer of Therin, who had arrived after the foursome had left and therefore been excluded from Shandiph's listing, were trying to calm matters. The coincidence that both the apparent survivors were from Therin did not make their task easier.

Deriam had become entangled in a debate concerning the nature and origin of the crypts, and Thetheru was explaining the red crystal spheres to Sharatha and Miloshir. No one paid any attention to Karag, Alagar, and Kubal.

"What is the quickest means by which we three may be transported, with our chosen weapons, to wherever we may find Garth of Ordunin?"

Karag read the answer, and then closed the book.

"It is yours, Shandiph, to do with as you please," he called.

"Thank you, Karag. I'll want to speak with you in a moment."

"You have no objection if we look around, do you?"

"No, not if you're careful." Shandiph was too busy to be really suspicious; he was trying to answer questions about the vault room even as he asked his own about the Baron of Sland and affairs at the High King's castle.

Moving casually, so as not to draw attention, Karag and his two comrades gathered their chosen weapons, ignoring the questions and comments of the other wizards. When they were armed, Karag opened the first chest on the right and took out a blue crystal sphere very much like the red one that had summoned the majority of the Council.

At that point it became impossible to hide their actions and intentions any longer, and Kubal and Alagar, brandishing their swords, ordered that the pentagram be cleared.

Startled, the other councillors obeyed.

The three stood in the center of the golden star, and Karag announced, "We are going to do what must be done, without wasting any more time. We go to face Garth of Ordunin!" With that, he dropped the blue sphere.

It exploded in a cloud of bright blue smoke; when the smoke cleared instants later, the three wizards were gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

As Koros reached the top of the first low ridge, Garth turned for a final look at Skelleth. The town's silhouette was subtly changed from the last time he had seen it from this spot, when he had ridden down from Ordunin with hislittle trading party; a few of the old rooftops were gone, lost to the fires he had spread, and not rebuilt. None of the new structures were high enough to be seen from this distance.

The snow, too, changed the outline, blurring the lines and bleaching the surfaces to an even white that made the shadows stand out more sharply.

When last he had ridden the Wasteland Road, he had been accompanied by Larth, Galt, and Tand; now Galt was an outlaw and Tand had not yet returned from the Yprian Coast. He wondered what had become of his double-cousin Larth; he had not been among the sixty volunteers. He was probably living safe at home, going about his business as always, never questioning the wisdom of the City Council.

Garth turned his gaze forward once again, then cast a quick glimpse over his left shoulder. The sword's gem was glowing more brightly than usual, he thought. He wondered why. Was it pleased to be leaving Skelleth?

There was little he could do about its glow; there was no guarantee that turning back toward Skelleth would make any difference, and he was determined to speak with the Wise Women of Ordunin.

He looked at the road before him-or rather, at the ground ahead of him.

He could not be sure that Koros was actually following the Wasteland Road; the snow made it impossible to see where the road lay. He was heading in the right direction and knew the landmarks; he was not concerned about becoming lost.

There was a dip, and then a second low ridge ahead; after that, the road veered to the right somewhat, to follow the lay of the land and avoid the steeper slopes. The snow was smooth and unbroken; no one had pa.s.sed this way of late.

There was a curious bluish mist hanging in the air above the second ridge; as he watched it seemed to thicken.

It was definitely unnatural, he decided as Koros reached the bottom of the slope. It was a small cloud now, and an utterly impossible shade of blue.

Then, abruptly, the haze was gone, and three men stood atop the ridge looking down at him.

He leaned forward and spoke a quiet word in the warbeast's ear; the beast stopped dead.

He studied the three men. One was tall and thin, with light brown hair, and carried a strange curved sword; he wore a thin, gray cloak that flapped open in the breeze, revealing richly embroidered garments underneath. The second was of average size for a human, with thick black hair and beard, and wrapped in a heavy black cloak; he carried a staff of carved wood trimmed with bright metal. The last was large, with a dark complexion and very short, very black hair-and no beard, which struck Garth as odd indeed. He had never seen an adult male human without any beard at all. This last man wore no cloak, but a tunic of black leather trimmed with silver and breeches also of black leather; he carried a cross-hilted broadsword.

The third man fascinated Garth; aside from his beardlessness, this was the second human he had seen with skin as dark as an overman's, or nearly so.

The first had been the wizard Shang, in the city of Mormoreth, who had been even darker than this newcomer or than Garth himself.

Judging by the manner of their appearance, at least one of these three was evidently a magician of some sort; Garth wondered whether wizards had some special predilection toward dark skin. Or perhaps there was a land somewhere inhabited by dark-skinned humans, whence many wizards came.

The three men were looking about them, as if unsure where they were and why they were there; Garth watched without moving.

Then the tallest of the three, the one with the curved sword, pointed at him. Garth could not hear his words over the intervening distance, but there was no doubt he was calling his comrades' attention to the overman and warbeast.

Garth had no reason to believe the strangers to be hostile, but he found his right hand reaching up toward the hilt of the Sword of Bheleu. He stopped it and considered.The sword obviously wanted to be drawn, as he had made no conscious decision to move his hand toward it and would have preferred to use his more ordinary blade. The thing had demonstrated in the past that it wanted to protect him and keep him alive for its own reasons-but it had also demonstrated an incredible bloodl.u.s.t and eagerness to kill anyone within reach.

These strangers were obviously here by magic; the only explanation for that blue smoke was magic, even if it had been nothing but a means of covering their appearance over the top of the rise, and Garth thought it more likely that the smoke itself had somehow materialized them from thin air. The three men might be wielding the magic themselves, or might be innocent victims-but would innocent victims be carrying drawn swords? And that staff that the center one carried looked very, much like a magical device of some sort.

The only defenses Garth had against magic were the feeble natural resistance of magically created species such as overmen and warbeasts to other magicks, and the much more powerful magic of the Sword of Bheleu.

He decided that his own survival was more important than any danger these three strangers might face from the sword. After all, they were in the Northern Waste, which was overman territory; the accepted border ran along the top of the first ridge. As invading enemies, their deaths would be acceptable.

Garth drew the great sword.

He hoped that there would be no deaths.

The man with the staff was moving; he drew a circle in the snow around himself and his companions with the metal-shod tip as Garth watched, and then held the staff horizontally before him, gripped in both hands.

This looked more and more like magic at work, Garth thought; he lifted his own magical weapon in both hands.

The black-bearded man was speaking now, calling out words that reached Garth despite the fifty yards and wind between.

"Yahai Eknissa eknissaye!"

Garth knew that Eknissa was the G.o.ddess of fire, and a.s.sumed that what he heard was an invocation of some sort; he did not recognize the other two words. He had little time to worry about them before being distracted by their result.

A wall of flame had sprung up from the circle the staff had drawn in the snow, and was spreading outward with incredible speed. It roared up from the snow, melting it instantly as it marched, and reached a height of ten feet or more. Even before it came within twenty yards, Garth could feel its heat.

He raised the sword and summoned a storm to blow out the flames or drive them back toward their creator. He had had considerable practice in summoning storms in his attempts to burn out the sword's power.