A Darkness at Sethanon (21 page)

Pug said, “But
where are they to be found?”

“Attend,”
said Gathis. “Beyond the Endless Sea lies the southern
continent, called Novindus by men. From north to south a range of
mountains runs, called in the language of those men the Ratn’gari,
which means “Pavilion of the Gods”. Upon the two tallest
peaks, the Pillars of Heaven, stands the Celestial City, or so men
say, the home of the gods. Below those peaks, in the foothills stands
the Necropolis, the City of the Dead Gods. The highest-placed temple,
one that rests against the base of the mountains, honours the four
lost gods. There you will find a tunnel into the heart of the
Celestial Mountains. This is the entrance to the Halls of the Dead.”

Pug considered.
“We shall sleep the night, then call Ryath and cross the
Endless Sea.”

Tomas turned
without comment, beginning the trek back to Macros’s castle.
There was no discussion. They had no choice. The sorcerer had been
nothing if not thorough.

Ryath banked.
For hours they had flown faster than Pug had thought possible. The
Endless Sea had rolled below, a vast ocean of seemingly uncrossable
size. But the dragon had not hesitated an instant in accepting their
destination. Now, hours later, they were flying over a continent on
the other side of the world. They had moved from east to west as well
as crossing to the southern hemisphere, so they had gained some
daylight. In late afternoon, they had sighted the southern continent,
Novindus. First they had crossed a great sand wasteland, bounded by
high cliffs running for hundreds of miles along the seacoast. Any who
landed from a ship on that northern coast would have days of travel
and a dangerous climb before drinking water could be found. Then the
dragon had cut across grasslands. Far below, hundreds of strange
wagons surrounded by herds of cattle, sheep, and horses had been
moving from north to south. Some nomadic people, a nation of
herdsmen, was following the tracks of its ancestors, oblivious to the
dragon high overhead.

Then they saw
the first city. A mighty river, reminding Pug of the Gagajin on
Kelewan, cut across the grasslands. On the southern shore a city had
arisen, and farther south farmland could be seen. Far to the
southwest, in the haze of evening, a range of mountains rose: the
Pavilion of the Gods.

Ryath began to
descend, and they soon approached the centre of the range, a pair of
peaks that rose high above those surrounding, disappearing into
clouds, the Pillars of Heaven. At the base of the mountains, deep
forests hid anything that might have existed. The dragon spent the
last minutes of light seeking a clearing in which to land.

The dragon set
down, then said, “I go to hunt. When I finish, I shall sleep. I
would rest for a time.”

Tomas smiled.
“You will not be needed for the balance of this journey. Where
we venture, we may not return and you would have difficulty finding
us.”

The dragon
projected a sense of amusement at that last remark. “Thou hast
lost some sense of things, Valheru. Else thou wouldst remember there
is no place within the span of space I may not reach, should I have
but a reason.”

“This
place exists beyond even your ability to reach, Ryath. We enter the
Halls of the Dead.”

“
Then
thou shalt indeed be beyond my ability to find, Tomas. Still, if thou
and thy friend survive this journey, and return to the realms of
life, thou hast but to call and I shall answer. Hunt well, Valheru.
For I shall.”
The dragon rose upward, extending her wings,
then with a leap and a bound she launched herself into the darkening
sky.

Tomas remarked,
“She is tired. Dragons usually hunt wild game, but I think some
farmer may find a brace of sheep or a cow missing tomorrow. Ryath
will sleep days with a full belly.”

Pug looked about
in the deepening gloom. “In our haste, we neglected such
provision for ourselves.”

Tomas sat upon a
deadfall and said, “Such things never occurred in those sagas
of our youth.”

Pug looked at
his friend questioningly and Tomas said, “Remember the woods
near Crydee when we were boys?” His expression turned mirthful.
“In all our youthful dramas we conquered our foes in time to
get home for dinner.”

Pug joined his
friend in sitting. With a small chuckle, he said, “I remember.
You always played the fallen hero of some great tragic battle,
bidding his loyal followers good-bye.”

Tomas’s
voice revealed a thoughtful tone. “Only this time we don’t
simply get up and return to Mother’s kitchen for a hot meal
after we’re killed.”

A long moment
passed. Pug said, “Still, we might as well make ourselves as
comfortable as we can. This is as likely a spot to wait for dawn as
any other. I suspect the Necropolis is overgrown, else we would have
seen it from the air. We’ll be better able to locate it
tomorrow,” He added, with a faint smile, “Besides, Ryath
isn’t the only one who’s tired.”

“Sleep if
you feel the need.” Tomas’s eyes studied something in the
brush. “I’ve learned to ignore the need at will.”
His expression caused Pug to turn his head, following Tomas’s
gaze. Something moved in the dark.

Then a roar
erupted from the forests behind them. One moment the clearing had
been silent, then something or someone was leaping out of the woods
upon Tomas’s back.

The half-cry,
half-roar was answered by a dozen more. Pug sprang to his feet as
Tomas was rocked forward by the impact of the thing upon his back.
But while this creature or man seemed near Tomas’s equal in
size, no mortal upon Midkemia was his equal in strength. Tomas simply
stood erect, gripping the thing on his back by a handful of fur. With
a yank, he tossed it overhead as he would a child, sending it
crashing into another creature running toward him.

Pug clapped his
hands together overhead and the glade rang with the sound of a
thunderclap centring upon him. It was deafening, and those nearby
faltered. Blinding light erupted from Pug’s upraised hands, and
those surrounding Tomas and Pug froze.

They looked to
be tigers, but their bodies had been altered into man shapes. Their
heads were orange with black stripes, as were their arms and legs.
Each wore a cuirass of blue metal and breeches ending at mid-thigh,
of some blue-black material. Each carried a short sword, and a belt
knife.

In the glare
they crouched, blinded by the light of Pug’s magic. He quickly
incanted another spell and the tiger-men toppled. Pug staggered a
little, inhaling with a loud sound as he sat upon the deadfall. “That
was almost too much. The spell of sleep cast on so many . . .”

Tomas seemed to
listen with only half his attention. He had his sword out and his
shield at the ready. “There are more in the woods.”

Pug shook off
his fogginess and rose. In the surrounding forest the sound of soft
movement murmured like the gentle stirring of branches in a light
breeze, but no wind blew this night. Then, as one, another dozen
figures materialized from the gloom, all similar to the fallen. In a
thick, slurred speech, one said, “Put away your weapons, man.
You are surrounded.” The others seemed crouched, ready to
spring like the giant cats they resembled.

Tomas looked at
Pug, who nodded. Tomas permitted one of the tiger-men to disarm him.
The leader of the tiger-men waved at them, saying, “Bind them!”

Tomas allowed
himself to be tied, as did Pug. The leader said, “You have
slain many of my warriors.”

Pug said, “They
only sleep.”

One of the
tiger-warriors knelt and examined a sleeper. Tuan, it is true!”

The one called
Tuan examined Pug’s face closely. “You are a spellcaster,
it seems, yet you allow yourself to be taken easily. Why?”

Pug said,
“Curiosity. And we have no wish to harm you.”

The surrounding
tiger-men began to laugh, or something like it. Then Tomas simply
parted his wrists. The bonds snapped instantly. He extended his hand
toward the warrior holding his golden sword and the weapon flew from
the startled creature’s grasp into his own. The laughter died.

In a startled
rage, the one called Tuan snarled and swung a clawed hand at Pug’s
face, fingers hooked and long talons extending from between them. Pug
instantly raised his hand and a small golden light erupted on his
palm. The creature’s claws rebounded from that light as if from
steel.

The surrounding
creatures began to close upon them once more, two grabbing Tomas from
behind. He simply tossed them aside and grabbed the one called Tuan
by the scruff of the neck. Tuan stood six feet tall and more, but
Tomas lifted him easily. Like any cat grabbed by the scruff, he
dangled helplessly. “Halt, or this one dies!” Tomas
ordered.

The creatures
hesitated. Then one of the tiger-warriors bent his knee. He was
followed by the rest. Tomas released Tuan and let him fall. The
leader of the tiger-men landed lightly and spun. “What manner
of being are you?”

“I am
Tomas, once called Ashen-Shugar, Ruler of the Eagles’ Reaches.
I am of the Valheru.”

At that the
tiger-men began to make small mewing noises, half growls, half
whimpers. “Ancient One!” was repeated several times. They
huddled together in abject terror.

Pug said, “What
is this and who are these creatures?”

Tomas said,
“They are fearful of me, for I am a legend come to life before
them. These are Draken-Korin’s creatures.” Seeing Pug’s
look of incomprehension, he added, “One of the Valheru. He was
Lord of Tigers and bred these to stand as guards in his palace.”
He looked about. “I guess it would be in one of the caves in
this forest.” To Tuan he said, “Do you war on men?”

Tuan, still
crouching, snarled. “We war on all who invade our forest,
Ancient One. It is our land, as you should know. It was you who made
us a free people.”

Tomas’s
eyes narrowed, then opened wide. “I . . . I remember.”
His face turned slightly pale. He said to Pug, “I thought I had
remembered all of those days . . .”

Tuan said, “We
had thought you but men. The Rana of Maharta makes war upon the
Priest-King of Lanada. His war elephants command the plains, but the
forests are still ours. This year he is allied with the Overlord of
the City of the Serpent River, who lends him soldiers. The Rana sends
those against us. So we kill any who come here, dwarves, goblins, or
serpent men.”

Pug said,
“Pantathians!”

Tuan said, “So
men call them. The land of the serpents lies somewhere to the south,
but they come north at times to do mischief. We treat them harshly.”
He said to Tomas, “Have you come to enslave us again, Ancient
One?”

Tomas recovered
from his reverie. “No, those days are vanished in the past. We
seek the Halls of the Dead, in the City of the Dead Gods. Guide us.”

Tuan waved away
his warriors. “I shall guide you.” To the others he spoke
in a growling, guttural language. In scant moments they vanished into
the gloom between the boles of the forest. When all were gone, he
said, “Come, we have far to go.”

Tuan led them
throughout the night, and as they travelled, Pug asked many
questions. At first the tiger-man was reluctant to speak to the
magician, but Tomas indicated he should cooperate and the leader of
the tiger-men did so. The tiger nation lived in a small city to the
east of where the dragon had landed. Dragons had long been hated by
the tigers, as they raided the herds raised by the tiger-men. So a
full patrol had been sent in case the dragon needed to be driven
away.

Their city had
no name, being only the City of the Tigers. No man had seen this
place and lived, for the tiger-men killed any invaders. Tuan revealed
a great distrust of men and when queried said only, “We were
here before men. They took our forests to the east. We resisted.
There has always been war between us.”

Of the
Pantathians Tuan knew little, except they warranted killing on sight.
When Pug asked how the tiger-men came to be or how Tomas had freed
them, he was answered only by silence. As Tomas seemed equally
reticent, Pug did not press the question.

After climbing
the forested hills below the Pillars of Heaven, they came to a deep
pass. Tuan halted. To the east the grey of dawn was approaching.
“Here live the gods,” he said. They looked upward. The
tips of the mountains were receiving the first rays of sun. White
clouds mantled the peaks of the Pillars of Heaven, wrapping them in
glowing mists, which reflected the light in white and silver
sparkles.

“How high
are the peaks?” asked Pug.

“No one
knows. No mortal has reached them. We allow pilgrims to pass this way
unmolested if they stay south of our boundaries. Those who climb do
not return. The gods prefer their privacy. Come.”

He led them into
the pass, which descended into a ravine. “Beyond this pass, the
ravine widens to a broad plateau at the base of the mountains. There
lies the City of the Dead Gods. It is now overgrown with trees and
vines. Within the city is the great temple to the lost gods. Beyond
is the abode of the departed. I will go no farther, Ancient One. You
and your spellcaster companion may survive, but for mortals it is a
journey without return. To enter the Halls of the Dead is to quit the
lands of life.”

“We have
no further need of you. Depart in peace.”

Tuan said, “Hunt
well, Ancient One.” Then Tuan was off, with a running, bounding
gait.

Without
conversation, Tomas and Pug entered the ravine.

Pug and Tomas
walked slowly through the plaza. Pug took mental note of every
wonder. Oddly shaped buildings - hexagonal, pentagonal, rhomboidal,
pyramidal - were arranged in an apparently haphazard fashion, but one
that seemed almost to make sense, as if the beholder was not quite
sophisticated enough to comprehend the pattern. Obelisks of
improbable design, great upthrusting columns of jet and ivory
inscribed with runic carvings unknown to Pug stood at the four
corners of the plaza. A city it was, but a city unlike any other, for
it was a city without markets, or stables, a city lacking taverns or
even the rudest hut for a man to dwell within. For in every direction
they could travel, only tombs rose up. And upon each a single name
was inscribed over the entrance.