Tales of the Dying Earth (95 page)

"How so?"

"There is no time to lose. You and Rhialto must create an ideal semblance in the shape of Calanctus, and here, at least, I can be of assistance. The creation need not be permanent, but it must be sufficiently vital so that Llorio is persuaded that once again she pits herself against Calanctus."

Ildefonse pulled doubtfully at his beard. "That is a major undertaking."

"With scant time for its execution! Remember, by winning the IOUN stones you have defied the Murthe with a challenge which she cannot ignore!"

Rhialto jumped to his feet. "Quickly then! Let us do as Lehuster suggests! Time is short."

"Hmmf," growled Ildefonse. "I do not fear this misguided harridan. Is there no easier way?"

"Yes! Flight to a far dimension!"

"You know me better than that!" declared Ildefonse. "To work! We will send this witch squealing and leaping with skirts held high as she bounds over the brambles!"

"That shall be our slogan," declared Lehuster. "To work!"

The semblance of Calanctus took form on the work table: first an armature of silver and tantalum wires built upon an articulated spinal truss, then a shadowy sheathing of tentative concepts, then the skull and sensorium, into which were inserted all the works of Calanctus, and a hundred other tracts, including catalogues, compendia, pantolo-gies and universal syntheses, until Lehuster counselled a stop. "Already he knows twenty times as much as the first Calanctus! I wonder if he can organize such a mass?"

The muscles were stretched and drawn taut; the skin was applied, along with a thick pelt of dark short hair over the scalp and down the forehead. Lehuster worked long and hard at the features, adjusting the jut of the jaw, the thrust of the short straight nose, the breadth of the forehead, the exact shape and curve of eyebrows and hair-line.

The ears were affixed and the auditory channels adjusted. Lehuster spoke in an even voice: "You are Calanctus, first hero of the 18th Aeon."

The eyes opened and gazed thoughtfully at Lehuster.

"I am your friend," said Lehuster. "Calanctus, arise! Go sit in yonder chair."

The Calanctus-form rose from the table with only a trifling effort, swung his strong legs to the floor and went to sit in the chair.

Lehuster turned to Rhialto and Ildefonse. "It would be better if now you stepped into the parlour for a few minutes. I must instill memories and associations into this mind; he must be vivid with life."

"A full lifetime of memories in so short a time?" demanded IIdefonse. "Impossible!"

"Not so, in a time-compression! I will also teach him music and poetry; he must be passionate as well as vivid. My instrument is this bit of dry flower-petal; its perfume works magic."

Somewhat reluctantly Ildefonse and Rhialto went to the parlour, where they watched morning come full to Low Meadow.

Lehuster called them to the work-room. "There sits Calanctus. His mind is rich with knowledge; he is perhaps even broader in his concepts than his namesake. Calanctus, this is Rhialto and this is Ildefonse; they are your friends."

Calanctus looked from one to the other with mild blue eyes. "I am glad to hear that! From what I have learned, the world is sorely in need of amity."

Lehuster said aside: "He is Calanctus, but with a difference, or even a certain lack. I have given him a quart of my blood, but perhaps it is not enough. . . . Still, we shall see."

Ildefonse asked: "What of power? Can he enforce his commands?"

Lehuster looked toward the neo-Calanctus. "I have loaded his sensorium with IOUN stones. Since he has never known harm he is easy and gentle despite his innate force."

"What does he know of the Murthe?"

"All there is to be known. He shows no emotion."

Rhialto and Ildefonse regarded their creation with skepticism. "So far Calanctus seems still an abstraction, without over-much volition," said Rhialto. "Can we not give him a more visceral identification with the real Calanctus?"

Lehuster hesitated. "Yes. It is a scarab which Calanctus always wore on his wrist. Dress him now in apparel, then I will give him the scarab."

Ten minutes later Rhialto and Ildefonse entered the parlour with Calanctus, who now wore a black helmet, a breast-plate of polished black metal, a black cape, black breeches and black boots, with silver buckles and accoutrements.

Lehuster nodded. ' 'He is as he should be. Calanctus, hold out your arm! I will give you a scarab worn by the first Calanctus, whose identity you must assume. This bracelet is yours. Wear it always around your right wrist."

Calanctus said: "I feel the surge of power. I am strong! I am Calanctus!"

Rhialto asked: "Are you strong enough to accept the sleight of magic? The ordinary man must study forty years even to become an apprentice."

"I have the power to accept magic."

"Come then! You shall ingest the Encyclopedia, then the Three Books of Phandaal, and if then you are neither dead nor mad I will pronounce you a man strong beyond any of my experience. Come! Back to the work-room."

Ildefonse remained in the parlour. . . . Minutes passed. He heard a queer choking outcry, quickly quelled.

Calanctus returned to the parlour with firm steps. Rhialto, coming after, walked on sagging knees with a green pallor on his face.

Calanctus spoke somberly to Ildefonse: "I have accepted magic. My mind reels with spells; they are wild, but still I control their veering forces. The scarab gave me the strength."

Lehuster spoke. "The time is near. Witches gather on the meadow: Zanzel, Ao of the Opals, Barbanikos, and others. They are fretful and agitated. ... In fact, Zanzel approaches."

Rhialto looked to Ildefonse. "Shall we use the opportunity?"

"We would be fools if we did not!"

"My thoughts precisely. If you will take yourself to the side arbor. .. ."

Rhialto went out on the front terrace, where he met Zanzel, who lodged an emphatic protest in the matter of the missing IOUN stones.

"Quite right!" said Rhialto. "It was a dastardly act, done at the behest of Ildefonse. Come to the side arbor and I will redress the wrong."

Zanzel walked to the side arbor where Ildefonse desensitized her with the Spell of Internal Solitude. Ladanque, Rhialto's chamberlain, lifted Zanzel to a barrow and wheeled her to the gardener's shed.

Rhialto, emboldened by his success, stepped to the front terrace and signaled to Barbanikos, who, following Rhialto into the side arbor, met a similar disposition.

So it went with Ao of the Opals, Dulce-Lolo, Hurtiancz and others, until the only witches remaining upon the meadow were the absent-minded Vermoulian and Tchamast the Didactor, both of whom ignored Rhialto's signal.

Llorio the Murthe dropped down upon the meadow in a whirl of white cloud-spume. . . . She wore an ankle-length white gown, silver sandals, a silver belt and a black fillet to confine her hair. She put a question to Vermoulian, who pointed toward Rhialto, at the front of Falu.

Llorio slowly approached. Ildefonse, stepping from the arbor, bravely directed a double spell of Internal Solitude against her; it bounced back and, striking Ildefonse, sent him sprawling.

Llorio the Murthe halted. "Rhialto! You have mistreated my coterie! You have stolen my magic stones, and so now you must come to Sadal Suud not as a witch, but as a servant of menial sort, and this shall be your punishment. Ildefonse will fare no better."

From Falu came Calanctus. He halted. Llorio's taut jaw sagged; her mouth fell open.

Llorio spoke in a gasping voice: "How are you here? How did you evade the triangle? How ..." The voice seemed to catch in her throat; in consternation she stared into the face of Calanctus. She found her voice. "Why do you look at me like that? Faithless I have not been; I now depart for Sadal Suud! Here I do only what must be done and it is you who are faithless!"

"I also did what must be done, and so it must be done again, for you have ensqualmated men to be your witches; so you have broken the Great Law, which ordains that man shall be man and woman shall be woman."

"When Necessity meets Law, then Law gives way: so you spoke in your Decretals!"

"No matter. Go you shall to Sadal Suud! Go now, go alone, without the ensqualmations."

Llorio said: "It is all one; a sorry band they are, either as wizards or witches, and in candour I wanted them only for entourage."

"Go then, Murthe!"

Llorio instead looked at Calanctus with a peculiar expression mingled of puzzlement and dissatisfaction on her face. She made no move to depart, which would seem to be both a taunt and a provocation. "The aeons have not dealt kindly with you; now you stand like a man of dough! Remember how you threatened to deal with me should we meet again?" She took another step forward, and showed a cool smile. "Are you afraid of my strength? So it must be! Where now are your erotic boasts and predictions?"

"I am a man of peace. I carry concord in my soul rather than attack and subjugation. I threaten naught; I promise hope."

Llorio came a step closer and peered into his face. "Ah!" she cried softly. "You are an empty facade, no more, and not Calanctus! Are you then so ready to taste death's sweetness?"

"I am Calanctus."

Llorio spoke a spell of twisting and torsion, but Calanctus fended it away with a gesture, and called a spell in turn of compressions from seven directions, which caught the Murthe unready and sent her reeling to her knees. Calanctus bent in compassion to lift her erect; she flared into blue flame and Calanctus held her around the waist with charred arms.

Llorio pushed him back, her face contorted. "You are not Calanctus; you are milk where he is blood!"

Even as she spoke the scarab in the bracelet brushed her face; she screamed and from her throat erupted a great spell—an explosion of power too strong for the tissues of her body, so that blood spurted from her mouth and nose. She reeled back to support herself against a tree, while Calanctus toppled slowly to lie broken and torn on his back.

Panting in emotion, Llorio stood looking down at the toppled hulk. From the nostrils issued a lazy filament of black smoke, coiling and swirling above the corpse.

Moving like a man entranced, Lehuster stepped slowly into the smoke. The air shook to a rumble of sound; a sultry yellow glare flashed like lightning; in the place of Lehuster stood a man of massive body, his skin glowing with internal light. He wore short black pantaloons and sandals, with legs and chest bare; his hair was black, his face square, with a stern nose and jutting jaw. He bent over the corpse and taking the scarab clasped it to his own wrist.

The new Calanctus spoke to Llorio: "My trouble has gone for nought! I came to this time as Lehuster, thus to leave sleeping old pains and old rages; now these hopes are forlorn, and all is as before. I am I, and once more we stand at odds!"

Llorio stood silent, her chest heaving.

Calanctus spoke on: "What of your other spells, to batter and break, or to beguile men's dreams and soften resolve? If so, try them on me, since I am not the poor mild Calanctus who carried the hopes of all of us, and who met so rude a destiny."

"Hope?" cried Llorio. "When the world is done and I have been thwarted? What remains? Nothing. Neither hope nor honour nor anguish nor pain! All is gone! Ashes blow across the desert. All has been lost, or forgotten; the best and the dearest are gone. Who are these creatures who stand here so foolishly? Ildefonse? Rhialto? Vapid ghosts, mowing with round mouths! Hope! Nothing remains. All is gone, all is done; even death is in the past."

So cried out Llorio, from the passion of despair, the blood still dripping from her nose. Calanctus stood quietly, waiting till her passion spent itself.

"To Sadal Suud I will go. I have failed; I stand at bay, surrounded by the enemies of my race."

Calanctus, reaching forward, touched her face. "Call me enemy as you like! Still, I love your dear features; I treasure your virtues and your peculiar faults; and I would not have them changed save in the direction of kindliness."

Llorio took a step backward. "I concede nothing; I will change nothing."

"Ah well, it was only an idle thought. What is this blood?"

"My brain is bleeding; I used all my power to destroy this poor futile corpse. I too am dying; I taste the savor of death. Calanctus, you have won your victory at last!"

"As usual, you overshoot the mark. I have won no victory; you are not dying nor need you go off to Sadal Suud, which is a steaming quagmire infested by owls, gnats and rodents: quite unsuitable for one of your delicacy. Who would do the laundry?"

"You will allow me neither death, nor yet refuge on a new world! Is this not defeat piled on defeat?''

"Words only. Come now; take my hand and we will call a truce."

"Never!" cried Llorio. "This symbolizes the ultimate conquest, to which I will never surrender!"

"I will gladly put by the symbol for the reality. Then you shall see whether or not I am able to make good my boasts."

"Never! I submit my person to no man's pleasure."

"Then will you not at least come away with me, so that we may drink wine on the terrace of my air-castle, and look across the panorama, and speak as the words idly come to mind?"

"Never!"

"One moment!" called Ildefonse. "Before you go, be good enough to desqualmate this coterie of witches, and so spare us the effort!"

"Bah, it is no great task," said Calanctus. "Evoke the Second Retrotropic, followed by a stabilizing fixture: a matter of minutes."

"Precisely so," said Ildefonse. "This, essentially, was my plan."

Rhialto turned to Ladanque. "Bring out the witches. Rank them on the meadow."

"And the corpse?"

Rhialto spoke a spell of dissolution; the dead thing collapsed into dust.