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Authors: Kim Hunter

BOOK: Knight's Dawn
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crossbow to his shoulder and released the bolt. The missile struck the stag under the front haunch. A despairing bellow went out from the red beast, as his front legs gave way. Then slowly, he keeled sideways and dropped on his flank into the snow. There he lay, panting, the black metal bolt protruding from his breast. Then the lord rode up quickly, dismounted, and cut its throat with one slash of the hunting knife he carried in his belt. Soldier rode up. The moonlight gleamed on the red coat of the stag. Its eyes were already glazing. Caezor was busy cutting around the base of the antlers, removing them from the deers head. Finally, he had them free, the bloody stumps at the bottom dripping red spots onto the snow. Fine branches, eh? cried Caezor. These are the only things worth hunting for. Well leave the carcass here and collect it in the morning. No harm will come to it. The dwarfs will not dare to touch it and the night is freezing, so the meat will not spoil. What about wolves? said Soldier. Wont they eat it? There are no wolves in this region. No wolves? Ive killed them all. Soldier blinked. To kill all the wolves! They were not the most endearing of species, wolves, but to exterminate them was an act of great stupidity. Wolves had their place in natures scheme, just as did green woodpeckers and coachman beetles. To remove a species entirely was to cut holes in the fabric of the world. Soldier determined to leave the mans lodge as soon as it was reasonable to do so. Those dwarfs, said Soldier, as they rode back to the rambling dwelling. Im sure they did not mean to hunt your hares. I would be grateful if you would grant me a boon. Let them have the hare for their wedding feast, with no retribution? You will be better for it, Im sure. The lord stopped his horse. You said you believed it to be a rabbit. So I do, but you clearly do not. Have a care, sir, said Caezor, in a low threatening voice. I will not be lectured. Indeed, I do not mean to lecture you. I simply request a favour. You have had enough favours from me. Next you will be asking to sleep with my wife. Soldier drew in a breath, sharply. Indeed, I will not. Will you not? asked the lord, in a lofty voice. We shall see. In the meantime, we are coming closer to the lodge. Here, you will take my horse the rest of the way. I shall remain out here for a while, in the night snow. Without another word the lord dismounted and handed the reins of his hunter to Soldier. Then taking the antlers, Caezor walked back, to stand underneath an old oak. Soldier glanced back at him, then walked his horse on, taking the other mount with him. He made his way towards the stables. A groom took the horses and bade Soldier goodnight. Soldier then made his way wearily into the house and up the stairs. When he passed a window on the landing he felt compelled to look out. There, in the moonlight, he saw an extraordinary sight. There was a man. At least, he began as a man. But there were antlers sprouting from his temples and as Soldier watched he was transformed into a stag. And there was a woman. At least, she began as a woman, running across the outer gardens. But even as Soldier watched, her form melted into the shape of a hind. The stag was after the hind, his hooves thundering on the hard earth, and when he reached her somewhere out in the snows of the night there was a frenzied act of mating. The heavy smell of musk wafted over the outer gardens of the lodge, up to the landing windows, choking, cloying, filling Soldiers head with thick, hazy thoughts of tangled bodies and quivering limbs. Soldier could not help noticing that the hind had a velvet collar around her neck. Much disturbed he went to his bed, hoping to dream of his beloved Layana. Once again he locked the door securely, but wondered how effective this would be. In the middle of the night, when the owl was crying havoc at the moon, he woke. Straddled across his chest was a naked Cresside. She had two sets of antlers, one in each hand. As he sat up with a start she rammed the antlers onto his temples. They fused there, the ends joining with his flesh. Ahhhggg! he cried. What have you done? He pushed her pale form from him and grasped the roots of the antlers, trying to wrench them from his head. They refused to budge. They had grown into his skull. Cresside laughed. Soldier could see the choker around her throat, the silver plate which read, Touch me not... He tried to resist. To no avail. There began to surge through his body, from the antlers, a strange mixture of unusual feelings. Foremost was strength and knowledge in nature, sensation which overwhelmed him. He seemed drugged, yet at the same time, fantastically alive. Then there was a sense of his intellect slipping from him, to be replaced by an earthy insight to the raw world of wild things. There was the taste of fungi in his mouth, and tree bark, and moss, and many other plants of woodland and meadow. The sound of his own heart pounded in his head, his senses were quickened, he was on the edge of fear, yet outwardly calm. Blood rushed through the muscles of his legs, arms, shoulders, torso, and filled his loins and thighs to the point of bursting. An overpowering lust swelled in him. Yes! he said, lurching for the woman. Now! Yes! His breath was thick with the smell of the lewdness that washed like a torrent through his body. He could not help himself. He was bewitched by a carnal need which had to be satisfied. Then he was on her, thrusting, thrusting, burying himself deep in her mossy form. She encouraged his insane passion with cries of satisfaction that he was unlocking her soul with his key. She was his, but then he was hers. He knew he was losing himself inside this lovely young woman. She was wrapping him, enveloping him, swallowing him, imprisoning him. Yet still his eyes blazed for more of her, his hands finding every mound, every crevice in her. Deeper and deeper he plunged, careless of what he was losing, intent only in gratifying this terrible fathomless craving within him. Then finally he spent himself, just as she split the night with a shrill sound that must have startled the dead in their mouldy graves below the turf. There was silence for a moment while they lay in their own sweat, still tangled, locked together. Yes, she said in satisfaction, at last. Then a sudden roaring went through the manor, which Soldier knew was the sound of anger. Her husband, the lord, had heard her cry of ecstasy and knew what it meant. There was a crashing on the stairs, the sound of running feet, and Soldier knew that death was hurtling towards him. With the antlers still on his head he leapt from the bed and through the open window, dropping several feet into the deep snow beneath. Even as his bare feet touched the ground he was running, wild-eyed and naked through the night, with the roaring following in his wake. Halfway across the fields he looked back, to the see the lord on his horse, racing after him. It was to be a hunt after all, and Soldier was the quarry. A black crossbow in Caezors right hand signalled the intent. Soldier gulped down breath. Although he had not been fully transformed into a stag, and in fact had only the antlers to identify with that beast, he still had the strength and power of the creature. He ran swift as any deer, over the snow-covered meadows, through hedgerows, down gullies to bottomland, over brooks and brakes, and up towards the woods where lived the dwarfs. Still the fast horse and rider behind him were gaining. Suddenly, Soldiers strength began to wane. When he entered the wood the antlers abruptly fell from his head. The energy drained from him rapidly. Soon he was standing in the moonlight, the object of curious foxes and wide-eyed owls, looking desperately for some place to hide. Gaezor was thundering up the hill, blowing his hunting horn, going in for the kill. There was a loud halloo, a crashing of branches as horse and rider entered the wood, and the snorting of man and beast. Bushes were swept aside, snow flurries flew into the air from the hooves of the hunter, and a rhythmic drumming on the forest mast. Pssst. In here! Soldier, almost resigned to death, stared about him. Over here, came an irritated whisper. Quickly. In here. Come on, come on. Then he saw, in the moonlight, the open mouth of an oak tree. A dwarf stood inside the cave-like entrance in the oaks trunk. Soldier stumbled over to him and stepped inside the bole of the tree. He found himself scrambling down a dark slope, aware of roots and stones, down into the darker earth beneath. The dwarf scrambled ahead of him. Soldier simply followed. They were in earth tunnels which honeycombed the countryside under the woods and fields of the land belonging to Caezor. Not much further, said the dwarf. Finally they came out in a huge cavern, with earth walls and a tangled-root ceiling. There were bugs and beetles everywhere in this huge dark space lit by soft-glowing lanterns. Soldier saw worms and snakes and all manner of underground creatures. In the corners great spiders lurked. On the rooty ceiling hung live centipedes and millipedes. There were also many more dwarfs here. They were crouched down, about a hundred of them, in the middle of the cavern. Go, said the dwarf who had fetched Soldier. Get down there with them. Why, whats the danger? Caezor. He will try to smoke us out. The best place to breathe is low on the floor. Sure enough, within a few minutes, smoke began to fill the cavern, coming from the entrance. Hes treating us like badgers, said Soldier, angrily. Why doesnt he come down here and fight? Because he knows this is our territory, replied a dwarf lying nearby. It would be more than his lifes worth. What did you do to upset him, anyway? Yesterday you were good friends. Ah me, groaned Soldier. His wife and I ... He was now feeling great remorse for his actions. Not because of Caezors anger, but because he was now an infidel, having betrayed his wifes trust. You made love to his wife? The games you mortals play. Well, you cant go back to his manor now. Well have to find some way of stealing your clothes from the lodge and getting your servant to you. It can be done, dont worry, so long as we survive this smoking. Why are you doing this? asked Soldier. Why are you helping me? Any enemy of Caezor is a friend of ours. He treats us like serfs and has killed many poachers amongst us. We enjoy any revenge we can get. If we help you escape it will hurt him badly, because he believes himself to be untouchable. We want to see him squirm with frustration. That will be worth the effort of assisting you to get away from this region. Soldier felt badly about this. Ive brought great trouble upon you. Not at all, said the dwarf, cheerfully. Youve given us great entertainment.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Layana woke after several days of suffering the terrible effects of prickly tares and thorny weeds growing in her head. She knew the moment she opened her eyes that Soldier had been unfaithful to her and hurt pierced her heart like the point of a spear. Sitting up, she found her bed surrounded by servants, who had been holding her down during one of her mad fits, in case she injured herself. She looked in the mirror. The ravages of madness were taking their toll on her beauty. She decided that in a very few years she would look like a hag anyway, and her scars would be neither here nor there. How long has it been? she asked. Ofao replied, Three days. Her servant-friends looked exhausted. Thank you, she told them, once again. She sent most of them away, all except Drissila and Ofao, who would not have gone anyway. Then she bathed, dressed in fresh clean clothes, and made her way down the spiral staircase to the library below. There she tried to read poetry, to take her mind off Soldiers indiscretion. But it was impossible. Images haunted her head. She saw the laughing lady astride her husband under a lunar heaven. His unbounded lust had his horned head jerking and shaking, the moon caught in the tangle of his antlers, whilst he was thrusting into her. Am I thus forgot? groaned Layana, laying down the volume of poems. Am I so soon put aside? The scenes in her mind were impossible to dismiss and tortured Layana unceasingly. Of course, she had not known from whence Soldier had come, who had been his previous lovers, if any, and whether he was constant or not, but Layana had fallen in love with him the moment he had come down from the hill and asked her about a battle. All his previous history was of no consequence to her. His blue eyes, his open candid face, his apparent vulnerability combined with a strength of character, these were what had attracted her. No matter had he come from hell. This was different. Now he was her husband. She was entitled to his faithfulness. He had deliberately forsaken her. Oh, Drissila, said Layana, breaking down and weeping, Ive had the most horrible dream, yet the worst part is I know it to be true. I feel it, here in my heart . . . She proceeded to tell the story of Soldiers betrayal to her two most trusted servants, knowing it would go no further. It was something that had to be told, she had to unburden herself of the knowledge, yet she would have died a thousand deaths rather than have such information ever reach others, like Captain Kaff. When she had finished she dried her eyes. Drissilas lips were pursed. He should not have done this to you, my lady. Ofao nodded, as if in agreement, but then said, Yet, you know, my lady, perhaps it was not entirely his fault? This creature, the wife of a local Jord, she enticed him, did she not? She tricked him into wearing the horns. Some of the blame must lie with her also. Without her connivance Soldier never would have betrayed you. Must it always be the womans fault? asked Drissila, severely. Why is it when men go astray it is because they are given no choice? No, no, you mistake me. He must bear some of the blame. And Im sure he would say so himself. I have no doubt he is going through agonies of remorse at this very moment. But my mistress here is contemplating something final, is that not so, my lady? You are thinking it would be better to sever the relationship now and marry someone else? Layana gave them no sign that this was the case, either with her mouth or her eyes, but they knew from her silence that it was so. Oh, my lady, whispered Drissila, clearly distressed by this thought. But he has only just yet become your husband. Two husbands have gone already. A third loss would harden your heart to stone. You would never feel love for any man again. Would that be such a bad thing? asked Layana, with some asperity in her tone. For my heart to shrivel to a dried and bitter kernel? It would be terrible, said Ofao, speaking for both servants, for you have so much love to give. To stem the flow of that love now, in the prime of life? It does not bear thinking about. That torrent of love would turn in on itself and destroy you. Please, my dear mistress, please think of forgiveness, for your own sake if not for his. I am ugly, she murmured, but there is one other man in this land who would have me for his wife. Do not even think about it, groaned Drissila. He is a cruel and ambitious man. He loves me. I know it. But will he always love you? After a while he may grow tired of you and put you aside, perhaps even imprison you in some bedlam. It would be easy for him to say it was for your own good, my lady. Hell dismiss us, your friends, and during one of your bouts of madness hell put you away in some dark hole and youll never again see the light of day. Soldier, you know, would never do anything like that. He loves you to distraction. Yes, he has hurt you badly, but his love has not wavered. There is no excuse for infidelity. Ofao agreed. But you have the capacity for forgiveness. Yes, I do, but Im not sure I wish to exercise it. They left her later, to her grief. She was feeling a mixture of wrath and hurt. Yes, she saw that Soldier had been the victim of two worldly creatures, but she felt he should have guarded himself against it. He should have been able to do more to stop himself falling in with their schemes. Yet she knew Soldier was this curious mixture of vulnerability and strength. When she had last seen him, the victim of the water witch, he had seemed almost defenceless. Had she, Layana, not decapitated the witch, then Soldier would have been lost and gone to this world. Yet he somehow always survived, even when Layana was not there to protect him. Oh, she thought, if it had not been for my madness I would be with him, to shield him against such creatures as this lord and his wife. Yet, if it had not been for her madness, then Soldier would never have had to go out into the wildernesses of a magical landscape, into the fastnesses of the high gods, into the wastelands of monsters and fiends. In fact, if it had not been for her madness, would she have married him at all? Captain Kaff, my lady, sniffed Drissila from the doorway of the library in which Layana was sitting. Kaff entered the room in full armour, his helmet beneath his arm. My lady, he said, bowing. Its good to see you out of your latest sickness. Is the winter still with us? she asked, looking at the clumps of compacted snow dropping from the soles of his boots. Or has the thaw come? Theres a blizzard out there. I was about to accompany the red pavilions, on their march to the north. The beast-people again. But the weather has hardened. They say the land will be locked in ice before noon and no progress can be made until a thaw. Oh! she exclaimed, rising to her feet and going to the window. Is it really that bad? Why, were you thinking of a walk? She shook her head. She was not thinking of a walk. She was thinking how bad it would be in the mountains of the west. Soldier and Spagg would at this time be attempting the passes in those mountains. A cold death would be everywhere. The intrepid pair might easily starve, or freeze, or fall foul of some ice monster, and so their quest would be at an end. While she had been busy condemning Soldier for his faithlessness, he had been out in the most dangerous, the most hazardous of country, seeking to find a cure for her madness. She could not forgive him yet, but oh, she could not but be fearful for his safety. We have had no word from your husband, said Kaff, unable to keep the satisfied tone out of his voice, I would suspect he is dead. Hes not dead, she snapped. Not yet. You know this? I feel it in my heart. Kaff raised his eyebrows, but he knew better than to argue with the princess when she stated things so emphatically. I hope you are right, for your sake. There was a troll here, on the back of an owl. He spoke with Maldrake, Lord of the Locks, and said that Soldier was a prisoner. Layana frowned. What did Maldrake do? Do? Nothing of course. One cannot deal with trolls. She turned on the captain, releasing the pent-up fury she actually felt for Soldier. You would not have him come home alive. You would kill him if you could. Let us have no hypocrisy. Kaff shook his head. Theres no hypocrisy. Yes, I want him dead. But you, my lady, wish him alive. I said for your sake, not mine. Captain Kaff left the library in the Palace of Wildf lowers and made his way back to the guardroom. As always after seeing the princess, he was feeling depressed. She would not let go of this idea that she was in love with this intruder, this outsider who called himself Soldier. Kaff could not see the attraction. He put it down to some romantic ideal in her head. She had saved the man from execution by marrying him. This had somehow transformed itself into a feeling that she loved the man she had rescued on the eve of his destruction. Kaff believed it was nothing more than a womans fancy gone wild. Why hasnt that brigandine killed him? asked Kaff of himself. Humbold told me it would poison him the first time he wore it! It was infuriating. Kaff knew that Layana had special powers of insight when it came to people close to her. If she said Soldier was still living then Kaff had no doubt he was. But surely the foreigner must have come up against terrible danger by now, on his journey to the western mountains? Why had he not donned the padded armour-jacket and so died foaming at the mouth? None of it made any sense. Soldier appeared to have a dozen lives, for if not the brigandine, then surely some monster should have bitten his head from his shoulders by now? I must find other ways to make sure he never returns, Kaff said to himself I shall despatch Olgath. Having made this decision, Kaff felt he should have done this before now. Olgath was a warrior-sorcerer, a half-magician who was more human than sorcerer, but still with powers enough to transform himself into beasts and birds. Olgath could change his shape into some creature more suitable for travelling in this bad weather, catch up with Soldier, and bring about his death. Olgath lived in the slums of Zamerkand, his downfall being drink. This burly, intelligent man had been brought low by frequenting the inns of the city every night, every day, and most hours between. Sober, he was a brilliant combatant. Drunk, his fists caused much damage. Kaff took some of the guardsmen and found Olgath, as predicted, in a tavern. Come, you drunken sot, said Kaff. Outside. Kiss my backside, growled the inebriated Olgath, bunching his powerful fists. There followed a scuffle as the guards dragged the drunk from his seat. Olgath began to punch them in their heads and they went down under the blows. But there were too many of them and Kaff waited patiently until they had the man out in the snowy street, where they started to pummel and kick him. Enough, warned Kaff, I dont want him damaged. The guards reluctantly ceased hitting and kicking their victim. They were smarting under the blows he had handed out in the inn and they wanted their pound of flesh. Holding him by his arms, they bent him backwards round a horse-tethering post, ready and very willing to snap the bones should their captain require it. Olgath snarled and spat at them, muttering drunken obscenities and threatening to break every one of them into small pieces, once he was released from their grasp. Why dont you change into a bear, one the guards mocked him, then you can make good your threats. They knew he could not transform in his present state. Alcohol in his blood nullified any shape-changing powers, or any magical spells. He would have to be completely sober to reach the depths of his mind needed to work such magic. Olgath glared up at Kaff. What do you want? he asked. I have work for you. Work which will enrich you and enable you to remain drunk for a year. First though, we have to sober you up and get you ready for the task. He smiled at the baffled Olgath. How would you like to be an eagle for a while? Soaring high above the earth? Where would I go? To the mountains in the west. To the home of the gods and every evil spirit and strange beast that ever walked the world? I think I will not go. I think you will. Well see which of us has the most accurate thought in his head, after weve cooled a few hot irons on the surface of your skin. Soldier and the dwarfs survived the smoking-out with nothing more than a few lungfuls of bad air. The dwarfs had known that Caezor would get nowhere. They had been through this a hundred times or more. Dwarfs only got caught when they were actually out there, poaching salmon from the lords stream, or stealing his pheasants. They would have hunted his deer and wild boars too, if they had the weapons. As it was, woodland dwarfs relied on traps to catch the game. Sometimes Gaezor caught them emptying the traps and then he hanged them, or dragged them behind his horse, or enslaved them. Poaching is the most heinous crime under the sun, he told them, frequently. They replied under their breath, Thats why we hunt under the moon. Once the smoke had cleared and Soldier was permitted to see the dwarfs underground warren, he saw how well they managed for themselves. Deep down below the trees, the temperature remained constant. It wasnt particularly warm, but it wasnt freezing either. From the roots in the ceiling the dwarfs hung smoked meat and fish. Dried apples, many of them tough, shrivelled and wrinkled, were stored in heaps about the place. There were piles of nuts too. Passing dwarfs took from these heaps as they felt the need. There was hay and straw spread throughout the warren on the floors. When the dwarfs wanted to sleep they just lay down where they were and others stepped over them. Badgers and other subterranean dwellers shared the network of tunnels and chambers with the dwarfs, seemingly in harmony. At least, Soldier saw nothing down there which led him to believe otherwise. It seemed that in the confined quarters dug by the dwarfs they had to behave themselves too, for fox did not chase rabbit, nor weasel attack vole. There seemed to be some kind of truce in force. If the carnivores wanted to eat they had to go above ground and hunt their prey away from the kingdom of the dwarfs. There were chambers off the tunnels and the main cavern. These were mostly storage areas, but one was a music chamber where talented dwarfs could practise without interfering too much in the daily life of others. Soldier noticed that amongst their instruments they had a kind of miniature fiddle, a soft-stringed lyre which seemed to be played with the tongue, hollow wooden tubes which were used as percussion instruments, a kind of tambourine which was struck with a short stick and a huge deerskin drum which reverberated throughout the colony whenever it was punched or kicked by a heavy-set, knotty-muscled, enthusiastic dwarf. No

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