Krull. Part 7

"There he is!" a voice shouted in the distance. The eye or eyes vanished. He struggled to call out but only a disreputable gargle emerged from his strained throat. Footsteps sounded close by. Then he remembered and tried to sit up.

A hand braced his shaky back. "Easy there, Ergo" That was Colwyn, he thought. Colwyn's voice and his strong arm. He did not remark on the familiarity between king and commoner. Colwyn was an uncommon king.

"Are you all right?" another voice inquired. Torquil there, examining the supine body. "Doesn't seem to be any bleeding. No sign of a wound."

"Only to my mind," Ergo mumbled. "Horrible. It was horrible." He tried to point, but discovered that his fingers shook as he gestured with them. "A creature with no eyes over there, and over there another with only one eye, and the both of them preparing to decide who was to have the pleasure of cutting me up, I'll wager,"

"A cyclops," Ynyr murmured, raising his head to search the nearby trees with suddenly interested eyes, "and a Slayer. And our poor Ergo caught in the middle."

"I can't vouch for the Slayer, for he had yet to draw his weapon, but the one-eye was aiming a spear right at me! I would have turned him into a rat if...

if..."

"If what?" asked Torquil.

Ergo's gaze fell. "I, uh, seem to have forgotten the formula."

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Ergo," Colwyn said rea.s.suringly. "To be surprised by two such formidable individuals would give even a king pause."

"That's true," said Ergo, feeling much relieved.

Ynyr continued to study the surrounding trees. "If the cyclops had been aiming at you, my magnificent little friend, you'd be dead now instead of offering us descriptions of your intimidating visitors."

"If not at me, then who?"

Ynyr spoke without turning. "He was aiming at the Slayer, for there is an ancient hatred between them. It was the Slayer whose death rattle we heard, then.

"It is said that long ago the Cyclopes' ancestors lived on a world far from Krull, and that they possessed two eyes like other humans. Then they made a bargain with the Beasts who command the Slayers; they gave up an eye apiece in return for the power of precognition."

Torquil's brow furrowed and Ynyr patiently explained. "The power to see into the future. But they were cheated, for the only futures they were sensitized to...

permitted to see... were the times of their own deaths. It is said that precognition is but a dream even to the Beasts, but that by a certain artifice they can sometimes instill such an ability in others not of their race, in particular the means to see the time of death forthcoming. This they cannot do for themselves. It may be that they therefore experimented upon the unfortunate cyclopes, hoping to learn that which would enable them to make use of this ability themselves.

"There are others who say all this is so much myth and superst.i.tion. Of one thing there is no doubt. The cyclops are sad, solitary creatures, and they hate the Slayers and their master worse than any normal man, for it is not meet that anyone should have forewarning of his day of death."

"Today would have been my day, then," murmured Ergo as he climbed to his feet, "if it hadn't been for him. And I thought he meant me harm. I am ashamed."

"No reason to be," said Ynyr. "Their appearance is fearsome and they rarely seek human companionship. It may be that this one is different."

"Not very different," said Torquil. "You'll notice he didn't hang around to greet us."

"I am sorry he did not," said Ergo sadly, "for I would like to give him my thanks and offer my apology for having suspected ill of him."

"It would not matter to him one way or the other," Ynyr explained. "The cyclopes react the same to thanks or imprecations. Each attends to his or her own wants and cares nothing of what normal men think of them. If he saved you30 intentionally, and it seems certain that he did, he had reasons of his own for doing so."

"Reasons most excellent," Ergo agreed. Having rea.s.sembled, the expedition headed back toward the trail, but not before Ergo had checked to make sure that the terrifying fracas had not cost him his supply of dearly won gooseberries. He'd suffered too much to abandon them now.

Colwyn was not pleased to find that the trail climbed above the wooded ridge. Once more he found himself traversing bare rock broken only by the occasional wind-dwarfed tree. He did not like open, cold places. An imaginative man might find his mind wandering among the boulders and ravines, unwillingly transforming them into malign lines and designs.

That sharp, dark jumble of serrated granite off to his left, for example, might well be the exterior of the Black Fortress. That was a barrier he would confront soon enough, and he drew no joy from the image. He preferred to think only of Lyssa and the few moments they'd shared. The forest reminded him of her. The naked stone did not.

Odd how so powerful an attachment could be formed on the basis of so brief an encounter, he mused. It was as if they had been man and wife for years instead of merely newlyweds-to-be. It had surprised him then and had seemed to surprise her as well. Only Ynyr did not seem surprised at the extent of Colwyn's feelings for a woman but fleetingly met. But then, little seemed to surprise Ynyr. Turold had been very different.

Thoughts of his father turned Colwyn's mood dark and he fought to concentrate on other things. Consider the side of the mountain they were approaching, for example. That was an object devoid of emotional overtones. Bare rock was no candidate for melancholy reflection. It was an elemental vision that brooked no mental coloration, a cliff of clean granite towering several thousand feet cloudward. There is no false pretense in stone, he thought. It can be trusted with idle thoughts.

He looked over toward Ynyr. The old man sat stolidly in his saddle, staring straight ahead. There was nothing in his posture or expression to indicate that he intended to change direction. Colwyn studied the cliff they were approaching more intently. It could not be climbed.

Ynyr finally stopped at the base of the mountainside and dismounted. Colwyn did the same. The old man spoke to the young king and to Torquil.

"We three will go."

"Go where?" The bandit chief eyed the cliff unhappily.

"Up that? I have strong fingers and have been in some difficult places, old man, but I am not a bird."

"Nor am I," Ynyr reminded him. "We are not going to do any climbing." He glanced past him. "The rest of you will remain here to guard the horses."

"We four will go." Ergo hastened to join them. "I'm not staying here with these criminals!"

"Why, what's wrong, Ergo?" asked Kegan. "Don't you trust us?" Behind him, a grinning Bardolph lightly fingered the point of his golden dagger.

"It's not that," Ergo answered, hastening to soothe any injured feelings.

"Only that I could not think of allowing my Lord Colwyn to place himself in danger where I could not be of a.s.sistance to him."

"Aye, I see your point," said Kegan. "One never knows when one might encounter a band of Slayers who could be terrified into submission by the sight of a hysterical pig." The other escapees joined in his laughter.

With great dignity Ergo turned and followed the others. "It is also clear that my advice is not appreciated by those of lower intelligence." This last was whispered aloud only when he was well out of sword reach.

Colwyn sighed indulgently. "Very well. We four will go." He looked to Ynyr.

"As you wish. It will not matter once we are inside."

Ergo didn't like the sound of that but saw no way of backing down. He was committed to whatever lay inside. Out of the tart into the pie pan, he thought.

Better the other way around. Oh well, glory awaits. But he took care to stay well behind Colwyn and Ynyr. There was no point in rushing on to glory.

A modest hike brought them to an open place before a sheer cliff. Ergo took a moment to try ingratiating himself further with the leader of the escaped prisoners.

"He marches us straight toward the sheer face of the rock." He nodded at31 Ynyr. "The old man has raisins in his braincase."

"And you have fruit on the brain," Torquil replied. "You and I should have such raisins." He stopped and put out a restraining arm, which knocked the breath from the smaller man. "Hold. See? Some magic is about to happen."

Ergo stared. Ynyr stood at the foot of the cliff, waiting patiently and doing nothing. "What magic? He stands like one paralyzed. That is not magic.

Constipation, perhaps, but not magic."

Torquil glared at him. "You have no respect for your elders."

"I never got anything from my elders except beatings and bad advice." He gestured at the motionless Ynyr. "Why should I look differently on this one?"

As he spoke, the face of the cliff began to change. Sheets of flowing green appeared, a bright wash of color that covered a portion of the bare rock. Ynyr stepped forward... to be swallowed up by the waterfall as though the stone beyond had vanished. Colwyn followed. Torquil glanced meaningfully down at his companion.

Ergo shrugged. "All right, so that's a good reason. I didn't see him do anything, though." But the condition of his belly belied his words as he watched the disdainful Torquil disappear into the green cascade.

First you threaten to turn a king into a toad and now you dispute a true wise man's knowledge. It was a wonder he was still alive.

For several moments he debated whether to follow or return to the camp. As he hesitated, he fingered the interior of a pocket. He was already out of gooseberries. Nothing to live for, then.

Cursing under his breath at having fallen in with such a group of visionaries and thieves, he reluctantly hurried to catch up with the others.

"Mad," he mumbled as he stepped anxiously into the waterfall. "They're all mad."

Inside they found themselves walking down a pa.s.sageway lit by the same cool green glow that had suffused the waterfall. It led inward and down. The slope was gentle.

Colwyn was glad of the coolness. He'd recently found himself inside a mountain cave where the air was considerably less hospitable. Clearly this place was nothing like the cavern of the glaive. There was no steam, no sign of lava or stink of sulfur. The temperature stayed pleasant as they walked, though he wondered at the complete absence of any breeze.

The tunnel made a sharp turn to the right and opened onto a s.p.a.cious chamber that had been hollowed from the rock by some unknown force. Light penetrated from above, so bright that its source could not be discerned. The walls and ceiling were smooth and relatively featureless. Colwyn could not tell if the chamber had been formed by natural forces or the hand of man.

The room was spa.r.s.ely decorated. A few draperies and hangings, utensils and plates of common shape and manufacture. On a simple seat sat an old man whose gaze seemed to be elsewhere. Colwyn advanced, his eyes never leaving the white-bearded figure. He noted the way the eyes twitched absently, never focusing on anything in particular.

Seer or not, this old man would seek his visions without the aid of normal sight. He was quite blind. Close by sat a young boy whose eyes never left the visitors. The child's movements were short and quick. Colwyn thought of the cats that infested Turold Castle. Here in this boy they surely had a quiet, two-legged relation.

The stone that rested before the old man elicited a gasp of admiration from Torquil, professional reliever of other men's possessions that he was. The emerald glowed with a powerful inner light and was no less than the size of the old man's head. Colwyn suspected that it was not the ordinary stone of Torquil's avaricious dreaming but rather a colorful manifestation of much more, just as its owner's vision extended into realms other men saw only as darkness and mystery.

The old man's hands moved through a picture hovering above the pulsating gem: the image of four wanderers. Colwyn had no difficulty recognizing his companions and himself. The wrinkled fingers swept easily through the image like birds through a cloud, without altering or distorting it. Unable to sense their presence with his eyes, the seer was tasting of his visitor's essence via means they could not fathom.

"I recognize an old friend," he said softly. Ynyr motioned for Colwyn and the others to wait. He stepped forward toward the seer. The boy watched carefully.32 "A fellow student of knowledge," the seer continued, his fingers picking at smoke.

Ergo and Torquil did not have to be ordered to stay back. Such activities gave the prosaic thief the shivers, while Ergo finally allowed himself to relax. Torquil moved off by himself, intent on the bright crystals that poked from the rocks.

A voice drew Ergo's attention. "My name is t.i.tch." The boy had come up quietly alongside him. He offered milk in a cup. Ergo accepted with thanks, though wishing for something stronger as he watched the two wise men.

"Greetings, friend of my youth," said Ynyr. "I see that your seeing is little changed."

The seer's smile widened slightly. "Alas, I see that which others cannot see, and would gladly trade all for the ability to see as they do. Such is not my fate, however. How may I a.s.sist you?"

Ynyr took a deep breath. Friend or not, the seer still abided by certain rules and restrictions. Would he aid them, even if he could?

"We seek the Black Fortress."

The seer nodded as if acknowledging something beyond their ken. "I suspected it was no simple request that brought you this far. Such a vision will be opposed.

This is not the kind of request I expected from you, old friend. The Black Fortress, you say. Who seeks it?"

"The new king."

"King of what?"

"Of Turold and Eirig and perhaps a greater realm still... if fortune travels with us."

"A capricious traveling companion indeed. As for this new king you speak of, I know him not."

Colwyn stepped forward to stand next to Ynyr. "I am here, espier of the distant mysteries. Ynyr serves me and my purpose."

"Ynyr serves no man, be he king or commoner," said the seer with a knowing smile that made Colwyn wonder, "but while your reasons may differ, I see that your purposes are the same." Colwyn did not comment. Let the seer believe what he wished. All Colwyn wanted was the way to Lyssa.

"He does not speak," said the seer.

"For a young man he is wise," Ynyr said.

"Very well then. I will seek the Fortress for you." He pushed back his sleeves and leaned forward to press both hands tight against the emerald... if emerald it was. Torquil was no longer so certain.- There was a hint of something else about the stone. Could it be another substance made to look like an emerald? A roundabout way to hide a secret.

As he stared, the irregular green object began to spin on its axis. A deep whir emerged from green depths. It reminded Torquil of a waterwheel at flood time.

Soon it was rotating rapidly enough to make him dizzy and he found he had to turn his gaze away from it.

A shape was close at his side and he had to force himself not to jump. d.a.m.n, but the boy could move quietly!

t.i.tch held the stoneware pitcher. Irritated at his nervousness, Torquil declined a refill. The boy turned to Ergo, repeated the offering.

"Milk gives me gas. Can't handle too much of the stuff," Ergo explained.

"Got any sugar b.a.l.l.s?"

"No."

"Gumdrops? Caramel ladies? Chocolate strings or honey-dew squares?"

"No, sir," said t.i.tch apologetically.

Ergo looked displeased. "What kind of boy are you? Boys always have candy.

Though perhaps I am asking too much. This is no normal home for a child. I should not be surprised that you have no access to sweets."

The boy thought a moment, then brightened, eager to please. He fumbled in a pocket. "I have a cinnamon bar."

"Ah, sweets in a sour place after all." A beatific smile spread over Ergo's face. t.i.tch held the bar out to his guest but Ergo shook his head.

"Your hospitality is admirable for one so young, but I will not take all your candy. Share and share alike's my motto." Having said this, he extended a hand.33 t.i.tch grinned and broke the bar in two. Ergo's graciousness did not prevent him from taking the larger half and popping it into his mouth.

"Thank you, boy. My stomach was growing tired of naught but healthful food.

For that boon I will tell you my full name. I am"-he hesitated, chewing and trying not to mumble the words-"Ergo the Magnificent. Short in stature, tall in power, narrow of purpose, wide of vision." He looked at the boy. "What do you think of that, eh?"

"That is very impressive, sir," t.i.tch admitted.

"I should hope so." Ergo smiled contentedly as he masticated the spicy remnants of the cinnamon bar.