Sterling Lanier - The Unforsaken Hiero

“A Glith. That was what Roke the pirate called it before we killed it and him.” He stared down at the gray skull, earless and noseless, the fanged jaws agape in death and the mighty limbs, covered with fine scales, all asprawl. The thing wore the harness of a Metz soldier, but it could not have passed for a human in any kind of light. The heavy axe it had borne lay half under Hiero’s bed.

“How did it get in here?” the old priest mused. “The alarm was given by one of those pendulum devices our scientists cooked up. I showed you one before you went off south, remember?”

“It may have been given, but it was way late,” was the answer as Hiero knelt to examine the corpse further. Already a foul stench was in the room, despite the open window. “Look here. It wears the mind shield. I expected that. God knows what warned me. I guess I’m becoming attuned to the presence of the enemy somehow. But I had only a few seconds to spare.”

He crushed the small box and crumpled the chain before going on. “What I’d really like to know is, if that shield was working—and it was—how did your pendulum thing work at all?”

“I don’t think the scientists themselves altogether understand that device,” Demero said. “The warning was late, as you say. Still, there was a warning. Perhaps it also works, though more slowly, on a level of emotion somehow. A pretty puzzle to set before the big brains when I get time to do so. But what I want to know is, how did this Glith pass the sentries at all?”

“I see what you mean. And I think I know the answer or can guess at it. Have the sentries examined as fast as you can by a psychmedic, one who knows the human brain. One of these things almost hypnotized me once. They have strong mesmeric powers. I’d be willing to bet that there is an unexplained lapse in the memory of some guard, maybe more than one. The damned brutes are probably bred for it. Anything else occur to you, Father?”

“Oh, yes. I’m not quite senile, not yet at any rate. It wanted you. It took a big risk to locate this chamber, son. And that means two things. I’ll have to have the garrison mind-probed in depth. Though I think you may be right, and it could have got its information by mental compulsion. But I see further, and so do you. It came looking for you, so that means it was sent. The Unclean know you are here or at least suspect it. Others may have been sent to other places. The important thing is that they know you are alive, and that is something we hoped was not so. I wonder how?”

“I don’t know. But only one thing makes sense. Someone or some thing saw me in Neeyana. No other way it could have happened. They move fast, don’t they?” Hiero’s eyes slitted as he stared down at the repulsive corpse on the floor. “It makes me feel proud in a funny way. They certainly hate me.”

The abbot smiled. “You were never very good at your classic studies, Hiero. Many, many thousands of years ago, far across the sea, there was a mighty king with a personal motto. Can’t recall much about the man, whether he was good or bad. But I recall the motto. It ran, Oderint dum Metuant. Let them hate me so that they fear me, that is, in Latin. You see, my boy, there’s the answer. As I told you yesterday, I worry about your powers. But you terrify the enemy. I think they would trade several regiments of our Guards if they could get you instead. I had hoped to use you as a secret weapon. Now I’ll just settle for weapon, period. Do you have any ideas?”

“I think so,” Hiero said slowly. “I think we have to keep them off balance. If you can spare me a few good men, the best of the bushrangers, I’ll take my cats and go hunting. North of the Palood and east of the Otwah League boundary. Somewhere in there I think the enemy may be gathering. The way I see it is this: We dealt them a bad blow at Neeyana. We couldn’t hold it, but we certainly wrecked it for them. We stole their records, broke up and brought back their Great Screen, sank two of their best ships, and killed three Masters of the Yellow Circle. Nothing like that ever happened to them before. If I’m right, we only have two main packs to worry about—the Blue, and that’s S’duna, and the Red, both north of the Inland Sea. I think I know where S’duna’s main base is—the isle of Manoon. Where the others are, I have no idea. But I think a hunting expedition is in order, something between a probe and a raid. I have never drought they had many of those ships, you know. Even with their powers, that much metal and technology must be very rare. I doubt if there are more than two or three left on the whole Inland Sea. Brother Aldo got one and my cats got two. I don’t think there are that many left.”

He began to pace the small room, and the older man watched and listened with veiled amusement as the younger continued to expound his plan.

“Surely some of the levies must be coming in from the Otwah League by now? They promised aid before I went south.”

“They have a long way to travel, and the fact that the Unclean have hit them only lightly so far has made them cautious. They are afraid to strip themselves of troops. Also, remember that they are not quite the same as we, Hiero. They have a far higher proportion of the old white stock and they have other mixtures as well. We are homogeneous in population to a much greater extent. Not so many nerves to soothe, not so many little patches of local divergency that have to be kept feeling they are part of the whole. But they are coming. I have had word from their Council.”

“Well,” Hiero said, “tell them to stay well north of the sea, and I mean well north of the roads anywhere near the Palood. The less the enemy knows about them, the better.

“Anyway,” he went on, “I ought to start as soon as possible. I want no more than six men and my furry friends from the South. We’ll go on foot, not mounted, though the Children of the Wind could leave Klootz standing, I think.” A look of pain crossed his face as he thought of his lost mount, but the emotion was suppressed as he continued. “On foot is better. We don’t know that terrain well and I have no idea what we’ll be getting into,”

A heavy tread shook the corridor, and the tall shape of Per Edard Malum loomed in the doorway. He was welcomed and the conversation resumed. It had not progressed very far when the newcomer interrupted loudly. “Hey there, hold up. Are you off again on some crazy trip, while I float around on that stink barge? Not on your life! Father Abbot, I appeal to you. This helpless shrimp needs protection. I resign from the navy here and now. I’m going along, that’s what!” He stared defiantly at both of them.

Demero laughed quietly. “I don’t know what Justus Berain will say, but I suppose I can quiet him down. It won’t really be desertion if I have you seconded to special duties. I presume that you have an executive officer who can handle the ship?” It was an idle question. Maluin’s noise and bulk had never disguised his keen mind. He would have had all his officers trained to a hair, and all three knew it.

Hiero was delighted. He knew his old friend’s value. They had trodden many strange trails in the past. The thought of that stout arm and strong mind at his side was a real comfort. The old abbot also felt relieved. He had guessed at Hiero’s loneliness and knew what the man must be feeling, with his wife’s fate unknown and his mind torn with divergent emotions. A tried and true comrade could be a great help.

“I think Malum has a good idea, Hiero. And though I don’t want to pick your men for you, I have another one. There’s a junior priest, just been made deacon, as a matter of fact, whom I’d like to send with you. He’s here in the garrison, and I’d like to have him up. See what you make of him, and then I’ll tell you why I think you should have him along.”