The Nonborn King (22 page)

Ahead shone a wan glimmer. The boatmen leaned to their poles, propelling the craft as swiftly as they could around one last lengthy curve. A thin screen of boughs hung over the cave's mouth. Katlinel stood up, fingers pressed to the golden lore at her throat, and pruned the ramage away with an invisible blade of psychoenergy. Severed branches tumbled harmlessly into the water and the boats drifted into open air. They emerged from the base of a great forested cliff into a land silvered by the moon- Steppes clothed with rippling grass stretched away on either hand. Near the river were groves of majestic flabellaria fan palms and weeping willows.

The Howler people in the crowded punts began to shapeshift spontaneously, as if eager to mask their deformities now that they had finally left the caves. The horned and crested horror who had sat beside Katlinel from the journey's beginning now metamorphosed into a tall humanoid as handsome as any Tanu, wearing a jewel-studded hunter's jerkin and a peaked cap surmounted by a small coronet.

Sugoll asked his wife, "Now that we are beyond the dense rock formations, is your farsense abie to trace the course of this river to its confluence?"

She exerted her metafaculty, ranging southward for a few score kilometers. "Yes, I see it. There's a truly enormous river down there. It comes from the east. from a great lake in the Heivetides. Not far from its confluence with this stream, it makes a right-angle curve and flows northward." She showed the mental picture to Greg-Donnet.

"Oh, it's the Rhine, all right," said Crazy Greggy cheerily. "Just as we hoped. All we have to do now is float on down to the landing at the High Vrazel trailhead, and then on to Nibelheim itself!"

"How long do you think it will take us to reach the landing?" Sugoll asked Katlinel.

She concentrated. "Less than a day. The river flows swiftly with the spring runoff from the Alps. We could camp here for the rest of the night, then continue in the morning. These meadowlands should be reasonably safe from predatory animals, and I detect no sentient life whatsoever." "If anything comes sniffing around," Greggy said fiercely, "we can give it a blast from those presents that Sharn and Ayfa sent. Wherever do you suppose they got such contraband? Of course, it was an open secret that time-travelers did smuggle in forbidden armaments and other goodies, but we privileged humans assumed that the Tanu destroyed them. What fascinating food for speculation!" He began to giggle. "How I'd love to zap me a hoe-tusker! Bring ten tons of gubbertushed elephant crashing at my feet!" Wistfully, he appended. "In Muriah, I never ever got to go on Hunts. The Tanu said I was too valuable."

"And so you are, Greggy." Sugoll had been issuing telepathic commands, directing the boats to shore- Now he smiled down on the dapper little geneticist. "You are valuable to us as well. I'll see that you get to stalk some big game at a suitable time. But you must promise not to go haring off on your own. Losing you would be a catastrophe."

The elderly man was quick with reassurances. He glanced around at the grounding punts and the passengers disembarking in the moonlight. "I think you all look perfectly splendid in your illusory bodies! And you and Katy make a wonderful couple, Sugoll."

The Howler lord's brow creased slightly. "You can discern no shadow of our true monstrous shapes?"

"Not a trace! Not a, a debitissima!"

"Let us hope," Sugoll said, "that our disguises prove as impenetrable to the Firvulag royalty. And to the bridegrooms at the Grand Loving."

"Nine thousand?' Sharn croaked brokenly. "0 Goddess." "The riverguards counted 'em twice, Appalling One," said Fitham. "There seem to be well over a thousand virgins, too. All shiny red boots and flower garlands with ribbons, and so stiff with opals and sapphires and rubies that they can barely stagger."

"But how do they look?' Ayfa inquired grimly. Fitham paused. He pursed his lips, screwed up his eyes, scratched one ear. and resettled his conical hat. Silence grew"Well?" demanded the royal ogress. "Can you tell?" "In a dark bedroom. Majesty, if one were very horny, "

Sharn groaned "that bad?"

"Their stuffings are ingenious and attractive. Appalling Ones, but I'm afraid they wouldn't deceive a true Firvulag for a gnat's eyeblmk "

"We can't nsk having an official reception for them here in the Hall," Ayfa decided "There'd be a not "

"At the least," the King sighed

"If you want my advice," Fitham said, "head 'em off before they ever get to High Vrazel Meet *em on the trail with a slapup picnic feast, plenty of musicians and liquor, and a welcoming committee of trustworthy nobles and their ladies, pnmed to be tactful (Don't ask any with eligible sons, of course ) Give this pack of monsters what my old fnend Chief Burke would call a schmooze-job' Chat 'em up Tell 'em you want to save an inconvenient side tnp to High Vrazel, where all the palace Jakes are on the blink' After all, they'll have far enough to go, marching to Nionel through the Belfon Gap "

Ayfa broke in "We can tell them all about their fine new home Show them mind-pictures' Promise them discounts on materials for the renovation' Send them off with plenty of pack animals and ndmg stock to ease their journey "

"Not my new herds of chalikos and hellads'" wailed the King

"You can steal more," his wife said firmly "This is an emergency The quicker that mob of wretched little spnggans is out of the Vosges, the better "

Sharn shook his great head helplessly "But we're only postponing the problem, not solving it So far, our own people know very little about this migration But what are we going to do, come May? We've agreed to let the Howlers sponsor the Loving'"

"We'll think of somethmg by then," Ayfa said soothingly "And besides, you and I won't be around then Don't you recall? We're going to spend the Grand Loving this year with Alken Drum and Mercy-Rosmar and what's left of the Tanu flower and chivalry over in Goriah " "Well, Te be thanked for small favors All I' 11 have to worry about down there is assassination'"

"Shall I put arrangements for the fancy picnic in tram, then?" Fitham asked

"Do so," Sharn commanded, ail business again "That's a fine idea of yours, Fitham And you're coming, loo, as master of ceremonies Get out your best clothes and the gold pegleg studded with bloodstones We're going to pamper and flatter that army of abominations until they're giddy They're never going to suspect that we're all throwing up inside. Do you think they brought their treasure?"

"The nverguards reported that the Howler horde is well supplied with strongboxes and locked pouches "

Ayfa gave a great sigh of contentment "Then everything is going to be all right after all."

And so the festive meeting took place near the headwaters of the Onion River south of High Vrazel, in a pretty part of the forest where the bulbuls sang amid the giant ferns and blossoming trees dropped petals on a scene of rustic splendor The King and Queen of the Firvulag, sixty of their most discreet courtiers, an honor guard of Wamor Ogres and Ogresses, and almost the entire strength of the royal culinary corps starred in a day-long fete champetre that completely overawed the innocent Howlers.

Plied with food and dnnk. woozy from ovenndulgence in the psychoactive hooby mushrooms, the emigrants responded enthusiastically to the proposal that they repopulate Nionel The royal donation of some 400 fully trapped chalikos, twice that number of draft hellads with carts, and a breeding herd of the recently tamed little hippanons provoked transports of maudlin gratitude among the besotted monsters After a nice show of reluctance. Sharn and Ayfa agreed to accept their joint weight in gemstones as a partial down payment on delinquent taxes owed by Ihe Howler nation to the throne over the past 856 years.

The matter of bnde-fosterage among the noble Firvulag families was delicately skirted This custom, Sugoll was told. had fallen into decline among the nonmutant populace; and given the large number of nubile Howler females, there would be considerable awkwardness reinstating ii at the present time. Smoothly, the two monarchs declared that the brides would be far happier (and more useful) accompanying their own families to Nionel. There they could not only participate in the work force, but also prepare connubial dwellings to share with their new spouses. At the Grand Loving, the Howler damsels would celebrate the mating rituals just as other Firvulag maidens did, the girls and boys pairing off on a basis of mutual selection. Queen Ayfa pooh-poohed fears that the mutant brides would be at a disadvantage. It was true that their numbers were disproportionally great; however, she would personally extend Loving invitations to the most remote enclaves of "wild" Firvulag, those only nominally loyal to the throne, insuring an extra supply of grooms, tf some of the Howler beauties went unclaimed this year, they would surely be snapped up at subsequent celebrations once word of their charm and generous endowment got round the Many-Colored Land.

Upon this gracious note, the royal party took its leave. Sugoll, feeling a mountain of anxiety lifted from his shoulders. retired to his cloth-of-gold pavilion after decreeing a two-day period of rest and recuperation. All over the littered picnic grove, happily fuddled mutants collapsed snoring, reassuming their usual forms once they drifted into slumber.

Only Katiinel and Greg-Donnet remained awake. As the moon went down and bonfires died out, the stately hybrid woman and the wispy academic in the clawhammer coat took lanterns and walked among the people to see that all were safe. Heaps of deformed and grotesque bodies, incongruous in rich clothing, lay in Dantean disarray on the trampled grass. There were empty flagons and dirty dishes everywhere.

After they had walked awhile, Greg-Donnet said, "You didn't tell Sugoll, then?"

"I couldn't bear to. Not yet. He's suffered such terrible worries all through the winter, and then the trip, and wondering about our new home- He was afraid Sharn would want to banish our people to some horrible wilderness like Albion! Nionel will be a paradise in comparison. No.. .we must let him regain his spirits before telling him the bad news. And don't you lei any hint leak out, Greggy, or I shall be very cross with you,"

"No fear, no fear." The geneticist shook his marmosetlike head, "The King and Queen and their people put a very good face on it, I must say. But as I wandered about, I picked up a good many intimations of disaster. And you, my dear, with your redactive faculty, must have known the truth almost at once."

"I suppose it was only logical," Katiinel said. "Howlers can see through each other's illusions easily enough- And they and the Firvulag share the same metapsychic pattern."

Greg-Donnet gave a mournful sigh- "Only humans and nonredactive Tanu would fail to penetrate the disguises. Poor little loathly brides! Well, it was only a small part of the eugenic scheme, merging the gene pools. There's still the engineering and the possibility of using Skin."

"But the people will be humiliated at the Grand Loving! Who knows what they might do? Oh, Greggy, it's such a shame."

She paused, lifting her lantern high. Nestled together under a sheltering willow tree were three hideous little beings, pipestem limbs entwined, goblin faces relaxed and peaceful. They wore bejeweled kirtles, flower headbands, and little red boots.

PERCHED ON A LONE TREE IN THE MIDST OF THE BLOOMING savanna, the raven watched a pair of sabertooth cats cooperate in stalking their prey The smail herd of antidorcas gazelles, fawn-colored and lyre-homed, grazed on obliviously until the male machairodus spooked them by dashing out of a clump of high grass They fled downwind and the female cat, lying in ambush, sprang Almost nonchalantly she grappled with one of the gazelles and npped its neck open with a slash of her ten-centimeter canines Her mate bounded up, eager for his share.

While the prey still struggled, the raven flew down, on fire with the old lust The cats withdrew before her coercive blast and crouched, snarling and hissing, as the predatory bird attacked one of the gazelle's great black eyes The beak struck like an ebon dagger The animal's back arched and stiffened, and then it subsided, dead The raven drank the aqueous humor and fed on blood.

But there was no electnc release Never, as there used to be at the death.

She flew back to her perch and swayed there, logy and miserable, watching the indignant machairodus cats return to begin their meal No pleasure'Never any more Never the old surge of hot psychoenergy as the victim fell, confirming her power There were smail joys to be found in the gleaning of the gold, and comfort from the faithful friends on Mount Mul" hacen But never the glorious fulfillment Not even when she had penetrated the world.

It was his fault

The sun above her expanded to a sanguine whirling thing She gnpped the branch and felt her mind lurch, her guts heave and disgorge cloned dark liquids Suddenly nerveless, her claws lost their hold and she tumbled heavily to the ground, wings all awry, to land in a puddle of stinking vomitus

And then, as before and always, she was tied to a wheeltike apparatus, prone, with hands and feet fiercely compressed by the torturer's manacles, and he focusing ever more sharply the pain that seemed to flood through every onfiee of her body The wheel turned, lowering her headfirst into the vat of filth Even though her mouth had been wedged open, she slopped her throat with her swollen tongue, staving off drowning, while fresh agony grew in her bursting lungs Just as the symphony of pain seemed to reach its crescendo, she was forced to a further extreme by the thrust of his impalement The sunburst The release The turn of the wheel into the air The humiliating ignominy as the combined ecstasy and anguish receded

Stop, her mind pleaded with him Don't Don't stop He would cleanse her tenderly, laughing, his beautiful face hovering in torn scarlet mist, sometimes kissing her unbroken body (and this was the worst of all and brought her closest to crying out hate-love and defiance, and thus to the brink of imbecility)

Scream, he told her gently Curse me aloud and it will be consummated But she would not utter a sound, shutting eyes and mind from the sight of him and the knowledge of what inevitably came next, the warm stream, the soft impacts on her face and eyelids.