Norton, Andre - Chapbook 04 (6 page)

"Yes,"
Modic
broke in, "do your tellers of ancient
tales say then what manner of creature this stranger was?"

Rentam's
tongue flicked out, he raised the water carrier to his wide mouth
and took the smallest of sips, though that was enough to strengthen his voice.

"You
have heard the same tale, Seeker..
 
.
what manner of creature was this stranger?"
 
prodded
Modic
.

Then
he laughed.
 
There was a shadow of
contempt in his voice:

"Go
hunt out a quiet pool and look into it, Guide.
 
There shall you see well what you wear... for the stranger was of your
kin by blood."

What
Rentam
might have replied to that was lost, for from
the broken walls before them arose a keening cry, and straightway that was
stifled in turn by cries and shouts of despair, horror and terror on the verge of
madness.
 
If some had escaped the
massacre in the open they were now being dragged to their deaths.

So
awesome was that chorus that
Rentam
put his hands
over his ears but found he could not shut out the sound which seemed to enter
and pulsate in his body so he rocked a little forward and back as if he was
shaken by something a great deal stronger than any sound, no matter how hideous.

A
musky-sweet corruption of blood scent arose about him also.

Thus
he could believe that those scavengers of this ill-omened place gathered again
for a feasting.
 
There was movement
behind him and he whirled to see something which slid through the black of
shadow to advance past the end of a broken wall.
 
From that spread the odor of

horse
sweat,
Dus
once more.
 
The fear born in animal broke through the ugly spell which kept both
travelers quiet.
 
Modic
did not move, but
Rentam
stepped forward and caught
again that trail of broken rein.
 
By this
he drew the bony horse to them.

Behind
he heard once again
Modic's
chuckle as eerie as a
madman's.

"Did
I not say,"
Modic
asked, "that
Dus
was one of the best of all that train?
 
The rest stood pinned by fear until they met
death, but this one fled, which is often the greater part of any valor, and
note its coming does us also a service.
 
For it would not venture to us now again if the way was not clear.
 
Now yield your guide ship to me,
Betweener
, and we shall come out of this... but tell me
first what sorcery your distant kin worked here which defeated
Utyr
, and with him many other lords of a land not then
dead."

"That
the tellers of tales never knew,"
Rentam
returned sharply.

The
moans, screams, and cries of fear and torment had died away as if one by one
those who voiced them were being silenced forever.

"And
the water thing which came to his call?
 
What was that,
Betweener
? Why during one day
and night did all those who followed
Utyr
die? What death
twisted and wrung their bodies, tore and shredded the very flesh which made
them what they were?"

Modic
advanced a step or two, now facing
Rentam
.
 
There was a full moon and, as if he still
clung to some ancient fear for all his brave talk, he was fingering the broken
rein and standing close enough to the horse that he might be in the saddle and
off before
Rentam
could move.

The
Betweener
shrugged.

"I
know nothing of
sorcelment
or the plays of warlocks
and Mages."

"Ha!
 
And still those of the stranger's kin went
out of the city untouched.
 
None of them
bore so much as a water bottle with them, bareheaded they went, un pursued and
free.
 
That is the ending of the tale
they chant in the Down Lands.
 
Eh, Guide,
how fared them?
 
Death did not claim
them."

"I
know no such ending of the legend," countered
Rentam
.

"When
it is spoken among us death is universal."

Modic
grinned evilly.

"Do
men, or
Betweeners
, ever really make that clear?
 
Perhaps it is better to forget than to admit
one has made some pact with that which should never have been thought of?
 
Do we greet
Betweeners
with open arms and fair smiles to this day ... even when they bring us those things
we have need of?
 
Why come you in parties
of fighters if you are merchants with nothing to fear?"

Rentam
gestured with one hand as if brushing aside something worn threadbare,
an action with its reason lost far back in time.

"Why
do we stand here," he asked, "and talk of old tales and whether or not
there was death of a city, a curse which grew out of
Utyr's
orders when he went desert raiding.
 
Rather it would be well for us now to be on our way before that guardian
returns, to jealously remove us from its present lair."

"True,
true.
 
We shall go hence from here."
 
Modic
looked about
him as if he stood in some noisome place.

"But
from
Lonscraft
we go not until..."
 
He brought out of the bosom of his robe
something which fitted into the hollow of his hand and which he handled as
carefully as if he held a palm full of water which he must carry without its
draining away.

"Give
me the map...."

Rentam
handed him that oblong of stone which had the message on it
near erased.
 
With this firmly held in
his left hand,
Modic
clapped his right hand about
also.
 
Though it looked to be a shard of
dull gray, such as lay in the thousands along any trail,
Modic
was touching it to the map.

It
was if he now held a coal, for there sprang up a steady red light in the
stone.
 
Modic's
features twisted, his lips grimaced as if he did indeed carry a fire's heat
against flesh.
 
The fire was answered by
a spark on the map, one which glowed as steadily as the Seeker's stone.
Modic
gave a half-stifled oath, his eyes wide and brightly
open so that he would not lose a fraction of what he looked upon.

With
the wane of the moon
Modic
stepped as forward boldly
as he would have had it been day.
 
For
the lack of anything on which to base a protest,
Rentam
followed after, leading the horse which plodded as if it had been sentenced to
too heavy a 'task.

Lonscraft
.
 
In
Rentam's
mind revolved the name of that ancient death of a city.
 
So far the tale he himself had repeated had
been exact..
 
. yet never had it told
what manner of death was spewed forth by the marshes, or why it had not fallen
upon those of
Betweener
blood, just those of
Modic's
species.

Still,
in the many years since that time, perhaps too many to be told over without a
knot string to aid, those who ventured into the Great Dry had died... one way
or another.
 
None had told what they had chanced
upon which was so perilous an enemy.

Lonscraft
itself was the name which had been gasped by one of the earlier
venturers
as he died, tongue stricken save for that
word.

They
now angled well away from the open center about the dead pool where the others
had died.
 
The memory of the color which
arose to slay, or else hold the intruders here until something more subtle had come
seeking life and blood, haunted
Rentam
.
 
His hand beneath his cloak sought out that
piece of fire curling stone which he had found in the ruin.
 
Yes, there was a brilliant swatch of color to
match that which had flashed to kill on the rod or knife.

With
each step he took, he glanced sharply about and then at the blade. The
star-dotted sky above the central buildings remained free of lighting or
change.
 
Though color still swirled
within the pointless blade, it did not even reflect on the hand which held
it.
 
Still there was a feeling..
 
.
Rentam's
head
jerked as if that sudden thought had been a blow.
 
Why did he come to imagine thus as he
followed
Modic
through these ruins?
 
Never before had he conceived of things which
were not of the earth he knew.

Oh,
there had been tales a-plenty concerning demons and creatures from other worlds
(with hints that the meddling of some man or
Betweener
had opened forgotten gates), but always such had appeared or had happened to
some guide or wanderer from another clan.
 
One far away enough for the report to become muddled and overlaid with
all the fears which were a part of their heritage.

He
knew well that the men of the lower lands by the rivers had similar ghosts.
 
Nor were there many who even dared to make a
short essay into the Dry with or without a guide.
 
Still there was about
Modic
now a kind of fever which darkened his skin even under the moon's glow, and made
his journey one of erratic pauses and swifter advances, as if two desires warred
violently within him, now this and now that taking command.

It
was the horse who broke through the Seeker's tight absorption.

Not
uttering any sound, it drew back upon the rein, jerking its head as if to free
itself.
 
Bracing its spindly legs within
a narrow way between two piles of rubble, it refused to advance.

Modic
at once appeared fully awakened from his obsession.
 
He stood dragging with all his force at the
reins... the horse's head now stretched forward at a painful angle.
 
It was the animal that struck first.
 
It kicked out, though it was not facing
Modic
, and
Rentam
, who had had
no part in its pull forward, was the victim of that assault.

There
was a keening wail... not from either man or beast in their struggle, nor from
Rentam
either.
 
The
guide threw himself backward, not only to escape the hooves of the animal but
in utter surprise .. . for the sound issued from the artifact he had
found.
 
Nor did it emit a single note,
rather a near scream which was suddenly cut off.
 
Neither the horse nor
Modic
turned to see what had made that cry.
 
Rather the horse sprung forward, near overrunning the man as it burst
out of the narrow way between the two tottering pillars of rubble.

The
light from the moon was gone.
 
Clouds
built up in the northern sky.
Rentam's
instinct told
him a storm was on the way.