Valdemar Anthology - [Tales of Valdemar 02] - Sun in Glory and Other Tales of Valdemar (3 page)

“This is true, Errold. What are you proposing?”

“Making the sensors for the scouts won't be hard. At most, it will take a couple of hours. I must do some scouting myself, though. While you are shielding the camp, I will set up scanning spells to sweep the forest for a hundred yards all around. If some of predators in this forest are as intelligent as we think, they will come at night to observe us. If I detect something, I will go out and make sure it is harmless or try to disable it.”

“That's very good proposition, Errold. But I don't want you outside of my protection like that. I am tempted to go instead of you, but I am used to working with huge amounts of magic and I would not be as good as you would be against a single animal. You use the smallest spells to the best advantage. I give you permission for this plan. Do you really think that the predators will be so intelligent?”

“Yes, I do. Even before the storm, it was thought that some predators in the known world were remarkably cunning, if only in pursuit of their prey. I think that any new ‘smart' predators will be a real threat to us, if not now, then when we settle down. It is vital for us to establish that we are not prey and should be avoided.”

Master Thomas nodded his head but still looked doubtful.

“Better figure out how you are to disable predators, though. They will be fast, deadly, and intelligent, while you are just intelligent. You need a spell that can tell if something really is intelligent.”

In all my studies, I had not come across anything like that.

“It'll be tricky, but I'm sure I'll think of something, Master Thomas,” I said, not at all sure if I could actually do it.

I lay in my tent that night, furiously studying the spell books I had brought. I had an idea that would use a really simple spell. Predators are curious, and did a lot of patient stalking. Thus, my trap worked on curiosity and would certainly disable anything watching me. It was the sensing of large animals that I needed to work on. I stayed up most of the night, figuring out how to combine shields together, how to get the right range, and the search requirements. I got it together eventually, then crawled gratefully to my bed roll. I needed all the sleep I could get, because I knew that some night soon we would have company.

 

The following day everything seemed to go fairly normally. We noticed no large shapes in the distance, and saw no unusual tracks. I still felt as if we were being watched, though. Any truly smart animal would stay on rocky ground or the trunks of fallen trees. It was nightfall that I was waiting for. That was when we were not moving and the shields would be up. It would be then that I would be prowling—just like a predator.

After we had found a suitable spot to camp, I immediately cast my sensing spell, but it wasn't till halfway though the night that it alerted me. I sneaked out of camp, using a simple camouflage enchantment on my clothes and carrying a rope. The magical sensor that I carried told me when I was fairly close to the animal, and it “felt” only one animal in a hundred-yard radius. This made everything a lot easier for me. I sat down a few yards from the bushes where my sensor amulet had shown the animal was. Now I prepared the spell that I had thought of using the night before. I took my time. Anything nearby that was curious would be watching intently as I waved my hands and conjured energies. Then closed my eyes and set it off.

Even with my eyes shut, the blinding flash of light still hurt. Judging from the thrashing noises and growls from the bushes, whatever had been lurking there had been staring at what I had been doing with intense interest. I conjured a globe of light and set it hanging in midair. It showed a huge cat with a high forehead. Its fur was a very deep shade of green.

Using my rope, I ensnared the thrashing limbs and tied up the cat before it could see again. Then I sat down in front of it, weaving a rather delicate and tricky translation spell. Soon I could hear that the animal's noises were not really just yowling, but some very nasty swear words.

After it had blinked a few times, and seemed to be able to see a bit, it focused its gaze on me.

“Speak, I can understand,” I told it.

For a moment it just stared in surprise.

“Well? Why haven't you killed me?” it asked.

“I could ask why you have not attacked our other scouts,” I replied. “But I already know why. You are intelligent, and you were being sensible and cautious. Because of that, I caught you with a spell that would have worked with any truly intelligent species. A more stupid predator would have just attacked me because I am smaller and look defenseless.”

“I do not care to risk injury by attacking dangerous prey. If I am not fast, fit, and strong, I will starve.”

“To answer your first question, I haven't killed you, because we, too, are an intelligent species.”

“That is obvious. I was sent to watch your camp for three nights, then report to the rest of the pack. You puzzled us: you do not hunt, yet you do not graze either. You are soft and defenseless, like grazers, yet bright and cunning . . .”

“Like hunters.”

“Yes. We would have attacked your camp already, otherwise.”

“That would have been very, very silly. Our weapons are not claws and teeth, but they are still deadly.”

“Now I know that your species is truly sentient, not like the mrran.”

“Mrran? What is that?” I asked

“A mrran is the animal that you have adopted into your herd—or should I say pack? It puzzled me greatly when you did not kill and eat the mrran. The others could hardly believe me when I told them.”

“We have other uses for the mrran. It provides wool to cover us. Unlike you, we have little fur of our own. Do you understand that?”

“Yes. In a way I pity you for not having a naturally warm, glossy, thick coat.” At this it preened a bit. “What are the other reasons?”

“Do you remember what happened a couple of days ago?”

“Vaguely. There was a storm . . . and before the storm I was something else. As smart as the mrran, perhaps. Maybe even less smart. During the storm, I changed. All those of my pack changed.”

“In a way, the storm created us as well,” I explained. “We make our own food, we are neither hunters nor hunted. But we
are
very, very dangerous. Spread the message to your pack: leave us alone. Soon we shall stop and make a thing called a village. Stay away from it.
You
are most dangerous when you pounce, but
we
are even more deadly when we stop moving.”

“I have seen that.”

I slipped the knots on its bonds and it shook itself free in a moment. It stood and looked at me. After a moment it spoke.

‘Something in me says I shouldn't respect anything without fur. But I respect your kind if they are all as smart as you. Is this the right thing to feel, I wonder?”

“I respect your kind.” I replied. “But I do not fear them.”

“Then we are equal. And because we are equal, I don't think that our peoples should be enemies.”

“Spoken like a true and intelligent predator. If my villagers and your pack can stay friendly, then when one of you is sick or injured and needs care, I can help.”

“Help the injured? Why?”

“Because it benefits everyone. Are you intelligent enough to see that?”

If cats could frown, it did.

“Fighting would bring the pack no benefit,” it said eventually. “I assume that you need clear land and nearby water for your village?”

“Yes, we do. That is why we have not settled down yet. There are too many trees.”

“If you continue on for about a day, and then turn east, you will come to the edge of the forest, where the grasslands begin. There is a stream running close by. We don't like water or open land. You are welcome to it.”

“Thank you, I think we shall like it a lot.”

I picked up my pack, but it did not move.

“Just one last question before I go to my pack. Do you know what we were before the storm?”

‘You were cats,” I guessed. “All that has been changed is your coloring, your intelligence, and your size. You weren't dark green before the storm, and you didn't have language and reasoning. You certainly weren't four yards long.”

I hoped that I had guessed correctly, but soon it nodded its head and padded for the trees. Then it stopped and looked back.

“Perhaps, sometime, we should talk again,” it suggested. “It could prevent misunderstandings in the future. If you need to speak to me, just ask one of my people for me. My name is Proouw.”

“A good suggestion, Proouw. My name is Errold.” I said.

Proouw turned and glided away into the shadows of the forest without another word.

 

After I had had the meeting with Proouw, I went back to the camp and called a meeting. I explained what had happened, what he had told us, and what I had arranged. Everyone was very happy that we would not be hunted by anything so big and intelligent, and that there was a site nearby to build the village on. It was felt that looking after Proouw and his pack medically was a fair exchange. After the meeting was over, I just sat and thought. I wondered whether the shields hadn't somehow leaked during the storm, and changed me like it had changed the cats. The old Errold would have never even thought of that plan, let alone have insisted that he be the one to carry it out! And the old Errold wouldn't have negotiated like that with Proouw. But I eventually decided that it was just me doing what everyone did, adapting as new things happened to me.

After a day of traveling, and after we turned east, we found the spot Proouw had mentioned. It was perfect for our needs, and everyone immediately started talking about what we would do, and how the village would be organized and laid out. There was also discussion about what the village would be called. They eventually decided on a name . . . Errolds Grove!

It was a big surprise to me, but as they explained, I had done the most in regard to founding it. The stream was named Master Thomas' stream, which was just as important, as without water there could be no village. I was happy, and the arrangement with the cats worked out well, with Proouw and I meeting like ambassadors, and the pack chasing mrran in our direction to keep in our flock. I had a feeling that the village would last for a long time, two thousand years . . . or maybe more.

The last rays of the setting sun struck the multiple small circular windows of the chapel, fracturing the light into a myriad of sparks dancing on the warm wooden walls and on the altar. Reulan stood for a long moment caught in the glittering manifestation of God's greatest gift to mankind—light. Several village women had finished their task of caring for the interior of the sanctuary only a candlemark ago, and the pungent scent of wood polish filled the chapel.

Reulan held a taper in both hands as he stood facing the altar of Vkandis Sunlord. Where in colder weather a fire burned on the altar, summertime warmth dictated a profusion of red flowers. Reulan briefly bowed his head in contemplation—Vkandis, source of all comfort, light and warmth, protector and sustainer of mankind.

The light faded fractionally. Reulan stepped close to the altar and, as the chapel grew dim with the setting of the sun, he lit the large, thick candle that stood at the center of the altar. Darkness should never touch the chapel, with some form of light needed at all times to honor the Sunlord.

Flickering shadows danced on the chimney altar, then steadied as the candleflame stabilized. The gold image of Vkandis on the chimney glittered in that candlelight, the features of the image inscrutable but hinting of both power and love. Reulan bowed his head again in homage to the God, made the sign of the Holy Disk, and left the chapel through the door to one side of the altar.

Only a step lay between the chapel and Reulan's room, but the distance might as well have been leagues. Closing the door, he removed the heavy gold chain of a Sun-priest and then his vestments, finally standing clad in simple black robes. He sighed quietly, standing silent for a few long breaths, mentally moving from his attitude of worship into the mundane world. With the Night Candle lit, the chapel secure until the rising sun celebration, he could now turn to supper.

The height of summer was nearly on the village of Sweetwater. Two windows and a door stood open to catch the breeze. Just enough light lingered for Reulan to strike flame to the candles on the table, dresser, kitchen cupboard and the smaller table that stood beside his narrow cot. He gathered up the greens he had picked from his garden, added them to the plate where his sausage sat next to a roasted potato, and filled a cup with water from the village well—water so pure and sweet it had given this village its name. Sitting down at the table, he blessed the food he was about to eat, and looked up.

A pair of eyes looked back, the candlelight flaming in their depths like golden fire.

“Vkandis preserve me!” he murmured, staring at the sight. It was a cat, a very large and furry cat, sitting in the chair opposite as if specifically invited to dinner. “Where in the God's green earth did
you
come from?”