Greyfax Grimwald (22 page)

The trembling stopped after a few deep breaths, and the sorrow at having taken life, even as evil as this, set in. He looked away from the clearing, his | heart choked with shame, then that, too, passed swiftly, for the thought of Otter, perhaps hurt, or dying off somewhere in the thickets alone, hastened him back to where he’d dropped his knapsack. He placed it quickly on his back and began circling, trying to pick up Otter’s trail. There was no blood spoor, which gave Bear hope, but for a great distance all about, the foul scent or the werewolves lay heavily upon the dew-carpeted lawn beneath the wood, and their death smell was so thick and vile, he soon left the clearing and surrounding thicket. At the far side of the hilltop, he picked up a faint trace of Otter, then as he moved more quickly away and down into the small valley beyond, it grew stronger still, and he put all other thoughts aside as he set to work earnestly picking out and following the faint water-folk smell that led ever downward toward the gorse berry thickets below.

At full light, Bear had covered a league or more in his search, and looking up now and again, he saw the trail was leading him farther and farther from their valley, away from the peaceful life they had carried on for so long, on, ever on, toward the now shining snow crowns of the far mountains.

And on the bright rays of early sun, Bear began reading the story they had long ago begun, across the River, and even beyond that. The difference in this morning was that instead of waking in his pleasant valley and having a rather late breakfast with his friends, Dwarf was a captive of the powers of some great darkness, and Froghorn had revealed himself as none other than Froghorn Fairingay, and Otter was lost, in his own way trying to spare himself, Bear, the weariness and dangers of a journey into the world of men. And now, he, Bear, Bruinthor’s far distant descendant, had slain in battle again upon this sunrise, and was upon the journey he had proposed to himself to take alone to spare Otter. Now the two of them were far past returning, bound to the promise to Froghorn to seek the aid of this powerful man at map’s end.

All taken carefully into Bear’s slow, cautious consideration, it wasn’t much of a promising morning at all. Nor would be the mornings ahead, wherever they might find them.

“I knew all this wizard talk and dwarf magic would turn to no good,” he muttered to himself, then bent forward and hurried along to catch up to Otter, lost now in his own weary, unpleasant wanderings.

“F
ools, all of you,” shrieked the icy voice of Dorini, in the Dark Palace in the frozen realm of the World Between Time.

“But Your Darkness,” began Doraki, sniveling and frightened by her anger, “we brought you the dwarf. What else could be done? I didn’t think those slime crusts would have left such a thing with one miserable runt like that.”

“Silence, imbecile. You had best not fail me again. Bring me those other scum breaths here. I would question them also. And if you fail me, you’ll pay more than the miserable traitors themselves. I shall rob you of your precious power, and leave you among mankind forever.”‘

Shaken visibly, Doraki bowed low, retreating. “It shall be done, Your Darkness. I shall send Cakgor this moment to bring them.”

“I hope for your sake you speak the truth,” returned Dorini, the green names leaping high in the throne room, illuminating her evil, malignant smile.

Soon the great roll of dull stone bells and drums hastened Cakgor upon his way once more, and spiraling into the dark world like a shadow, he silently sped toward the valley where he had stolen Dwarf away in his sleep. He had never known the Queen to be so angry before, not since her last imprisonment by the Circle, and his leaden heart beat faster to think of his doom if he failed her command. He must be quick and deadly to defeat Fairingay, and there would be no element of surprise this time. That hateful beast would be waiting for him, and his heart quailed at that meeting. Cakgor flashed out with his great claws and tore asunder a passing wind, then flaming into the still hour of night, he assumed the form and smell of death, great oozing body showering fear and destruction as he flew, and as he passed over parts where men still dwelt, their hearts turned to icy fear and they fell before his awful presence, and still onward he hastened, the fear of Dorini raging inside of him until the very sunrise of the new day was blotted and dimmed with his coming, ever faster, until great green reddish sparks flew before and behind him, circling closer and closer to the valley of the cursed dwarf.

Otter, far below, saw the dark form showering hideous sparks and hurried on away from its presence, and Bear, close behind Otter, shuddered at seeing the dark shape so harshly glowing as it crossed the sun, darkening it for a moment.

Falling upon the valley shrieking, Cakgor sent out a slimish green-colored breath that deadened wills of man or beast, that drowned them in a waking, nightmare-ridden sleep and made all but the most powerful his prisoner, to do with as he liked. Birds tumbled from their high perches, numbed. Animals stood frozen, helpless before this doom shroud. With a rending, splitting crash, Dwarf’s door burst its binges, and Cakgor leapt inside, breath on fire, Scorching wood and earth alike into a black, ashlike heap. This sudden, terrible assault rang like a hollow tomb upon the empty, scarred house. No defense confronted Cakgor, no counterspell to defy him. His black heart grew inside him to think he had slain the hateful Fairingay in his slumber. This would please Dorini. This time there would be no escape for the puny magician, for her power this time would hold him frozen forever in her death breath, imprisoned, alive, helpless, tortured through all time. He burned the bedroom door from its posts and entered. Fire and destruction, they were gone. His breath reeked of ash and scorching, searing icy flames. Great billows of thick, dead smoke rose against the morning. He sought the dwelling places of Bear and Otter. And after a time, he found Bear’s cave entrance, enraged and in a great shrieking fury, cast down Bear’s door into a thousand pieces, filling the cavern and all the tunnels with the green, nauseous, evil gas. Nothing, no one. Shrill and deadly came his cry of failure, and Otter’s river turned to sheets of gray ice as Cakgor crossed it, devouring Otter’s green dwarf door as he came. There, too, he found all deserted, just as Otter had left it only hours before. His great dumb brain filled with rage and failure, and he scorched and burned, and broke into a wall of shooting green-yellow flames, leaving Otter’s dwelling ravaged and wracked in his fury. His one thought was that they had fled after Dwarf’s capture back across the River to safety, where he could not cross, for Klag and Forg had done so, and recrossing, were consumed in a horrible agony of doom. Whirling and spinning, he rose upward, setting green fire to the woods nearby, and the shining river was clogged with debris from falling tree and rock, and all living within Cakgor’s fearful passage were burned or suffocated by the fury and death of his anger. Racing away to report these evil tidings to Her Darkness, and to explain away his failure, he crossed a great battle, waged below him in a deep green jungle. He passed close upon the fight; and all there slew themselves with a great fever burning away their minds, and with a greater fear upon him, he sped away to the darkness. He must convince Dorini that the fault lay with her evil prince, Doraki, and that if anyone most be punished, it should be he, not the loyal and trusted Cakgor. If Doraki had been cunning, he would have the lot of them prisoners now. For that mistake he must pay, not the loyal and trusted Cakgor.

The sun burst forth once more behind his passing, and the day breathed its relief. The war went on upon Atlanton Earth, but without purpose, no dark hand close by to guide it, and babies once more nursed from their mothers, and living things yet grew.

The darkness was only half complete, and there still burned the bright rays of sunlight and hope.

T
wo lonely, smoking lamps marked the town as Otter crept softly forward onto the road that split the green valley m half like a winding white ribbon. Upon both outer walls sentries stood, tall men with strange high helmets upon their heads, and farther up, wild dogs were turned loose at dark to keep anyone, man or beast, from coming on the fortified town without first being announced or eaten. Speaking the words and repeating the ritual, Otter felt himself assume the awkward man shape. He looked down at his new, unfamiliar body and sighed. No trace of fur, no remains of tail could be found. He was of man now, and afraid. Trying to adjust his walk, he held himself from his usual trot, and approached the main gate of the city, hungry and tired, and not knowing what reception his presence would bring at so late an hour. He had moved to within hailing distance when a low, harsh voice rasped out.

“Hold and speak your name and business.”

Otter blurted out in his own language, “Peace, friend. I’m of Animalkind and only need a bit of water, and a morsel, if you have it to spare.”

“What’s that he says?” came another thin voice from behind a dark wall.

Otter realized that in his excitement he’d merely made a series of chitters and whistling sounds that these men were not likely to understand. Struggling, he fell into common speech.

“I’m called Otter, friend, and seek shelter and food for the night. My journey has been long, and I’ve passed through great danger.” _ Otter stopped, trying to remember what he’d said to see if it were correct.

“Step into the light, stranger. If you have arms, leave them on the road.”

“I carry no weapon, friend, but my walking stick.”

Otter stepped forward into the lamp’s flickering light.

“He looks fishy to me,” came a dry voice from a low guard shack. “And what’s he doing on this road by night?”

“He’s got nothing about him to harm us. Come, stranger, step in and identify yourself and your errand that carries you abroad this road so late at night. There’s been no well-meaning traffic upon this road for more than two years now.” The first man beckoned toward the guardhouse, and followed behind Otter into a well-lighted, comfortable room.

There were many firearms and other weapons all about the walls, a low, broad table, a cooking fire, and common mess plates for the men who were at duty there.

Otter studied the men figures more closely in the light. He was ill at ease, and his natural distrust held him quiet a moment. All were dressed in a like fashion, a uniform of sorts, with many pockets, and a design of a coat of arms upon their left shoulders. The man who had followed him into the building was tall, but of slight frame, with a steady gaze, and somehow Otter trusted this man. He thought of Froghorn Fairingay when he looked into his eyes, and it was to this man Otter spoke.

“I’m of waterfolk, mostly a mender by trade. I’ve journeyed out seeking a powerful man that lives beyond the mountains. I travel so late because the urgency of my errand is great, and all speed needed. I’ve come quite a long way since early this morning, before sunrise, have been beset by werewolves, and now seek shelter and a bite to eat, if you have it If not, a corner to sleep in, and “I’ll be on my way come dawn.”

“I suppose you would, taking all our defense plans along, right back to those who sent you.” The thin voice came from a dark-faced man who stood against the doorframe, cleaning his nails with a long, evil-looking knife.

“I come from no one, friend. I’m alone, and seek only aid from the man beyond the mountains. If any here be friends of the Circle, you’ll know I speak the truth.”

The Circle? What battalion is that? And on whose side?” sneered the thin voice.

“Ease off, Ned, you’ve had your say.” The first man crossed to the cooking fire, took down a mess kit, and spooned a heating ladle of the stew from the pot.

“Friend or foeman, we won’t starve an answer out of you. Come eat, and we’ll talk when you’re refreshed.”

Otter gladly accepted the man’s kindness, and thanked him. His stomach turned inside him at the first bite of the man food, but his new body accepted it, felt nourished, and he ate the last of it.