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Authors: Andre Norton

BOOK: Three Hands for Scorpio
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W
e did not move out of the watchtower for Kingsburke. King Arvor was carried to the lower floor, still limp in deep sleep, to be bedded next to Rogher.
Within a very short time clansmen came to view their ruler, filling by the chamber. We had made ourselves very visible as concerned attendants, although we ourselves would have liked to share the king's slumbers. With Duty I had sought out the quarters of the healer to make inroads on the supplies stored there, providing support for us all.
Sitting down at last I crushed a palm full of leaves and drew deep breaths of the invigorating scent. While I was thus employed, Tam and Cilla busied themselves putting our own gear in order.
There were many measuring glances cast in our direction as the Gurlys came to view King Arvor, some I thought
too
searching. Though the story Father had so swiftly crafted did hold together, a number of questions obviously remained.
It was a day of heavy clouds; the ravishing colors seemed to have burnt all the heavens, leaving only ashes. Just before day the warn fires at the top of each defense tower had been lit and remained unthreatened by wind or rain.
Also messengers had ridden out and we caught enough snatches of the
visitors' words to realize that now a full clan call had gone forth in the king's name. Our own troop took no part in this. Nor did we see Father again soon. It was plain that he was very willing to allow the Gurlys to handle this business.
At length Mother summoned Tam and Duty. Together they left the hall for one of the small rooms, which provided privacy for the officers. They had not been in that small chamber long before a faint glow, pulsating with limited Power, suggested that Tam was calling upon her talisman.
MOTHER PULLED A flat pillow from a bunk to the floor where she had already seated herself, motioning us to join her. With the pillow as a lessthan-firm base, she flattened it further with the force of both hands, setting upon it a large disk of finely burnished silver.
I recognized a tool she used but seldom—a seeing mirror. It had in the past been exposed to several baths of Power. However, as far as I knew, it had never been taken out of Mother's most private workroom before. To call upon such aid would alert any Power source within leagues of its use. Still, our presence here now had been well established by the events of the night. Why hide now?
“Let the light of the talisman be the sun above,” she said. Her hands were on either side of the disk. Energy would flow from flesh and bone to activate the seeing.
I steadied the gem above. The glow did not give off heat this time, only the light. Duty was singsonging words of summoning.
The disk came alight. Even the plate grew larger until we looked through what might be a window taller and wider than any in the walls about us. What we clearly saw now was a section of cobbled street. Stone buildings loomed high on one side but on the other side there was a stretch of open ground. A more intent study told me that this was the very heart of Kingsburke and facing us some distance across the open ground was the palace of the Gurly kings.
I had seen that only once before when we, as the family of the Lord Warden, had gathered there to be presented to the king. That had been a number of years ago when we sisters were children, the king hardly any
older, and most of our attention had been for the dignitaries participating in the ceremony. The court was so unlike that of our own land, so lacking in rich furnishings, brightly garbed courtiers, that we had spent most of the time exchanging Sends of opinion. So far had my thoughts delved into the past that I was sharply snatched into the present by movement on the seeing disk.
Men, some still wearing uniforms and helmets, women, and children, some in their mothers' arms, were retreating backward into the open space. It was as if they were being helplessly herded by some implacable enemy.
Then that which had so cowed them appeared, not only from the direction from which they had come but crawling, hopping, striding also from the opposite side. I gasped, but my hand did not shake. The gem continued to provide steady light.
There were Gurlys among the newcomers, yes. But we saw only a sprinkling of such normality. The rest—
The monsters of the Dismals were nothing compared to those gathering under our gaze. There appeared to be no winged killers, but reptilian ones abounded. And leading them, things that were neither beasts nor men, for which I could find no name.
“Wild Ones!” Duty identified the company.
The group of city people tightened into a smaller and smaller space. Again those threatening them began to move, now neither forward nor backward but circling the humans, until little space remained between prey and predators.
One of the horrors whipped out a tentacle whose tip wrapped about an infant at its mother's breast and jerked the child loose, flipping it into the air. The baby fell among the creatures and disappeared. Her mouth torn wide in what must have been a racking scream, the mother flung herself forward. Monsters and half-men opened ranks, and the maddened woman plunged on, not to be seen again.
I cried out in horror and rage, but I also felt a whiplash of fear. Duty's hand shot out to steady my wrist, which had begun to shake. Another of those to be seen in the mirror was taken, to serve as—amusement?
food?
“We must aid them!” I broke the silence with that cry. “What more will chance—”
Duty opened her wrist grip into a flat hand and struck hard fingers bruisingly across my lips. I stiffened and tried to master my shivering,
while she, with a glance at me of solemn warning, drew herself closer to the disc.
Now the Wisewife lowered an object over the mirror: a short pendant of crystal, pointed at both ends, and dangling from a silver chain. Deep inside the jewel, colors swirled swiftly to birth and as quickly died. Slowly the pointer began to descend towards the plate, swaying so that first one end, then the other, pointed at the disc.
During the gradual lowering of the talisman, another of the Kingsburke folk was seized by the tentacled member of the Wild army. One tip of the crystal was pointed down now, and it remained in that position until it touched the surface of the disc—precisely where the attacking horror tightened its coils.
The jewel produced a distinct sound as its tip touched the disc. Instantly, we were engulfed in roaring as of a storm-wind and heat fourfold greater than the hottest midsummer day. We cowered, even as the people of the city had cringed before the monsters, deafened, blinded, and burning as if our skin was being seared from our bones.
I could hear Duty's voice shrilling higher and higher. My hand holding the jewel dropped nerveless to my knee; I felt but I could not see. Then, though unconscious of doing so, I forced my hand up again until the gem touched my forehead between my closed eyes. Once more it was hot with energy, hotter even than the air about us.
“Evo! Evo!”
“Old Ones, loose hold!”
Duty's voice rose ever stronger and louder. I opened my eyes. My head must have been bowed, for the first thing I saw clearly was the disc. No longer did it shine—across it spattered a black stain, a blot which, the longer I regarded it, looked more and more like the outline of one of the monsters.
Mother straightened. She spread open her hands, and I could now see that some of the Dark taint also discolored her palms. Not knowing whether my action would prove an answer, I speedily drew the gem across her blackened flesh.
I saw her bite her lip as if to stifle a cry, but the stain vanished, and her skin showed unmarked and clean again. Duty, meanwhile, had snatched the crystal pointer away from the seeing disc. What she held now was only a shriveled cord dangling a lump of foggy slag in place of the clear pendant.
“So—be—it!” Mother intoned slowly. “We must fight on
their
chosen ground, not ours.”
Duty stood up. Dropping the chain and its blob of melted crystal to the floor, she set her booted foot firmly upon it to grind what remained into a powder.
“I was a fool.” The Wisewife's lips curved downward in a sour droop.
Mother shook her head. “No,” she countered, “it is best to know what strength stands against us. But an end must be made, and soon. We are those best fitted to oppose the Dark—and its weapons. That truth cannot be denied.”
MOTHER, DUTY, AND Tam came out of the small chamber to which they had earlier withdrawn. It was obvious to our eyes that they had undergone some arduous ordeal. However, before we could discover what had happened, the king stirred on his improvised bed and sat up. His blue eyes no longer showed any mental dullness, nor did any physical weakness linger to impair him. He looked towards Mother and spoke.
“Lady Sorceress, you dabble in a potent Power!”
His voice, curt and commanding, was as different from that we had heard earlier as were those now-piercing eyes. To the implied challenge, however, Mother made quiet and calm reply.
“I and mine do not ‘dabble,' Your Majesty. Within this land, however, dwell other wielders of Talent who are doing so. The Powers of the Wild Earth such as have never been put under restraint are now manifesting themselves, seizing whom they will of your people—the folk to whom you owe protection and succor. You have opened a door to the Dark, and all will be lost if that is not again closed fast.”
Arvor's lips were pulled tightly across his teeth as he stared back at her, and now his voice sounded like a beast's growl.
“Woman, you forget yourself—”
If he would have delivered a further rebuke, he had no chance, for Tam interrupted.
“We have forgotten nothing, Your Majesty. Scarcely a day ago we saved your body for you!”
“You speak nonsense,” he retorted angrily. Rising swiftly to his feet, he gestured at himself. “This is my body, right enough—how have you saved it? Body and spirit are one and the same!”
“Are they?” Tam demanded. “How came you to this defense tower? Did you ride hither with your men? If so, then”—she gestured to the hall about us—“where stand your guards, your close clan chieftains? Do you see them?”
He frowned, his thick brows almost meeting above his nose. “I was—” he began, then hesitated. “Yes!” His tone became more forceful. “I was in my chamber in the palace. The Chosen came to me that we might find a way to fight the monsters, and—” Arvor fell suddenly silent, and the shadow of fear crossed his face.
“He took my hand,” the young ruler continued laboriously, as if pulling word after stubborn word from his memory, “and then I was on the floor, and I was fighting.”
“But you remember nothing that happened between,” Tam persisted.
Mother and Duty stood silent, withdrawing a little, shrewdly leaving Tam in command.
The king's scowl was heavy, and his face was growing increasingly flushed. Suddenly he turned away. Yet he could not win free of us, for I stepped before him and barred his retreat, as would a guard.
“Your Majesty”—I spoke with little respect in my tone—”you have been ensorcelled, and you are at present free only by our efforts. The Dark has taken you once. If you do not face that fact and ready yourself to do battle, why, then—” I raised my hands and shrugged in a gesture of defeat.
“Witches—all of you!” Arvor was nearly shouting now, his wrath once more heated to the boil it had reached the night before.
But we had forgotten Duty. The Wisewife who now stepped before the raging youth was implacable, a personification of her name, prepared to list his shortcomings aloud, shame him before all the company.
Suddenly I caught a scent I knew well. So sharp was it that I swallowed hurriedly as my eyes began to water. With no fear of reprisal, Duty hurled a lump of herbs that had the appearance of a well-chewed cud into the king's face.
His head snapped back; then he stood blinking as the small wad slipped
down his chin to the floor. When he spoke to Duty, he might have been a small boy longing to appease a stern guardian.
“I have done nothing wrong, Feemie. Truly I have not!”
Duty nodded. “No, you have not, Arvor. But if you do not listen, you may. Do you wish the Evil Ones to hide beneath your bed tonight?”
He actually looked stricken. “No-ooo!” he cried in a rising wail.
She nodded again. “Very well. You are king now, Arvor—remember that well. You must lead the clansmen, but you must also listen to those who know what you truly face and are able to guide you.” She paused, then snapped her fingers in his face.
The bewildered youth raised his hand uncertainly to brush it across his eyes. A moment later, he shook his head and blinked at our old nurse, whom he had thought his own.
“Feemie—you are not Feemie!”
“No,” she agreed calmly. “Feemie has long rested at peace with herself and her world. But her care yet abides, and the life-lessons she gave you remain. You have followed a willful path into a tangle of Evil, and now you must cut your way out. Heed well.”
His attention fixed firmly on Duty, the king listened. She spoke simply and clearly, detailing what we had learned in the Dismals and explaining what we faced now. When she had finished, he drew a deep breath; his right hand groped at his side for a sword he did not wear. But he asked no questions.
Then he looked from his new teacher to Mother.
“Gracious lady, I have spoken foully. If you will forgive my words—”
Mother inclined her head. “It is done, Your Majesty, and already forgotten. We must allow no division to come between us, for by the sowing of such discord does the Dark Power reap a harvest of lives. What lies before us now is far deadlier than any war, and in that conflict you may well again serve as the weapon this lord of the Left-hand Path seeks. What we can do in protection for you and for all our forces, we shall; yet our enemy has raised the ancient powers of the land, against which we are often impotent. We cannot cry victory until he is utterly destroyed.”
“What I am empowered to do, that I shall do,” he replied with the solemnity of an oath.
Thus the king joined forces with us. Throughout the day and much of
the next night, meetings were held with the clan chiefs who had answered the Gathering-signal of the tower fires, and messages were sent forth by those already assembled. Father and his officers attended these war-meets, and there was much coming and going of soldiery in the hall.
We withdrew to quarters in the room above to hold our own strategy discussion. The second clan force to ride in had had among them a longbearded, green-caped man who climbed the stairs to join us.
By the heavy golden pendant lying on his breast and the massive signet on his right thumb, he was one long in service of the Light. However, those adornments were not truly needed to identify him, for his Power flowed palpably before him as he came.
Mother arose to greet him with such deference as she would our queen. He, in turn, held out his ringed hand for her to lay fingers on, as if they were priest and priestess in the same shrine and therefore of equal standing.
“May your Light shine, Brother,” she said.
“As may yours, Sister. You have come a hard and long way in the service of the Great One.” The Lightwielder made a gesture of benediction that included myself and my sisters as he said, “May the Power bless you all.”
Having been made known to this newcomer—Arthter by name—we settled ourselves once again, and Mother took up our tale, even as Duty had earlier for the king. The Shrine Speaker saved his questions until she was done. Then he centered on the three of us, had us each in turn tell of the Dismals, then of the woman of the Jugged Folk and the task she had laid upon us.
Arthter asked to see Tam's gem but, though he looked at the stone, he would not touch it.
“Lady Tamara, you hold a treasure; therefore, you also will have much asked of you,” he said quietly. “Guard it well, for its like has not been seen in this land, North or South.” Then he addressed Mother.
“So this foul soul has tampered with the forbidden gate, and the Wild Magic comes to his call. However, it may be that we have been given more knowledge of the ways of the Old Ones than he knows. For the Green Power is of the heart of the land itself, and we are also the earth's children, though of another breed. I must speak now with Zolan.”
That statement was not quite an order, but I felt at once the Power gathering for a potent Send. Earlier Zolan had been with the armsmen below,
though he kept well to the rear of Father's group, as if he wished to escape notice as much as possible.
Mother cast forth a mind-message. Within a few moments, we heard quick steps on the stair, and the man from the Dismals came among us. The Shrine Dweller did not speak at once, nor did Zolan break the silence. I grew uneasy, for the two men almost appeared for a moment to confront each other in the manner of undeclared enemies.
Arthter at last held out his beringed hand. Zolan still hesitated, then finally extended his own so that they touched palm to palm.
“Var si dun—”
Our companion's voice was hardly above a whisper, but it was very firm.
Arthter clapped his hands together and then held them out a little, palms down.
“Thirtam,”
he replied.
Zolan's mask broke as he responded eagerly to the other.
“Ask!” he fairly cried. “That which I have will be given.”
Thus was our company increased by one, and though I had visited the Shrine many times with Mother, some of the matters that were discussed now were as far in advance of my training as if I were still a novice petitioner, unvowed to the Light.
“We face a battle of spirit as well as steel,” Zolan said at length. “The soul of the hermit that was driven from his natural body may well have ceased to exist; therefore it cannot be summoned back. The absence of that spirit weakens us, as the hermit's desire for what is his own could add mightily to our strength. We must also remember that Tharn himself has no refuge if he is deprived of the body he now inhabits, for the clay vessel that held his essence in the Dismals has been destroyed. Desperation will thus arm him to the fullest extent.”
He hesitated before adding, “He took the king once; he may try again. A second possession may be even easier to achieve. Therefore Arvor must be Warded as completely as may be achieved.”
“And as soon as possible,” Mother added. “It remains to be seen if we are able to go up against Wild Magic, which is not of the Light.”
“Yet neither,” Arthter interjected as she paused, “is it of the Dark—it is a Power that chooses its own way. But whatever tactics of the Talent we would employ, we must move as soon as possible—and not with the armsmen.”
As he made that very definite statement, he turned to regard Bina and
me. Swinging his chain of office well to one side, he delved into the breastfold of his cape to bring into view a roll of cured skin. This cylinder he carefully unrolled. It was a map, a very old one—indeed, the outlines upon it were so dim that it must needs be held close for eyes to see them at all.
Tam caught my thought and held her gem down to those faint tracings.
Arthter rose, pushing back towards the wall the bedroll that had been his seat. Wordlessly the rest of us did likewise until we had won a free space on the floor. When that area, circular in shape, had been cleared, he came to my side.
Again the Shrine Servant reached under his green garment and this time brought forth a slender rod of strange wood, green also, but with dots of gold undulating over it. With this wand, he pointed to portions of the map, at the same time giving me instructions.
“Lady Drucilla, copy these as carefully as can be done on the floor here and now.”
Mother's Send came quickly:
“Do your best, daughter.”
I knelt beside Tam who held the Dismals jewel. The light grew ever stronger as she fed it Power. Taking Arthter's rod, Sabina began to transfer to the old wood flooring those parts of the map he had indicated. I knew the picture now for what surely was—a section of Kingsburke.

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