Andre Norton - The Warding of Witch World

Kaththea stood now behind her lord, her hands out so that her fingertips reached up to rest upon his shoulders. Behind her Kemoc copied her gesture, linking with his sister, then came Dahaun and Ethatur. Last of all, Gull, after a moment’s hesitation, keeping one hand still to cup her jewel, touched the co-ruler of the Green Valley. Keris’s hands clasped the edge of the railing so tightly that the edge cut into his palms, but he was not aware of that small pain. He might not carry the talent within him, but no one in that hall could be unaware that such forces were gathering as might well blast the very walls about them were they to be carelessly unleashed.

The tension was like a cloud, one could almost see as well as feel it, and there was utter silence in the whole of that large company.

Hilarion’s own hands went out, his arms stretched wide, and each outheld palm seemed to pull with it one of the pyramids, drawing them ever farther apart, enlarging the space between them. He recited no ritual as Keris had expected, but from his outstretched fingers there shot darts of blue flame.

The pyramids caught that force, held it until each of them in turn was afire. Once that was accomplished, from the quan iron slab on which they were rooted came a shaft of light, within its heart a darker core. That grew fast and cleared as it grew, putting on substance, until between the pyramids stood a miniature man—no figurine, for as the last of the light which had drawn him disappeared, the small figure raised arm in salute.

Keris was too far away to see the mannequin easily, but no one in that company could miss Hilarion’s welcome.

“Alon!”

The mannequin bowed his head. “As was hoped, master of learning, so it is wrought.” One could have expected the thinnest of piping from such a small body, yet the voice was near equal to Hilarion’s.

“There is good reason for summoning—” Hilarion began, when the other interrupted.

“We must be swift—we are seven but we are limited. There was a turmoil of raw magic.”

“Yes. The key to the Great Gate was found—and then taken from this world. Now we do not know how the subject gates may be used.”

“So.” The image of Alon nodded. “Those of Garth Howell ride for the Crest of the Lion—or so they did before the wave struck. There is said to be a gate there—or once was. And Garth Howell is shadowed. They have those among them who can well choose to reach for the Dark.”

“We meet in Es in full company, we who are sworn lieges to the Light,” Hilarion continued. “We hope to search out which gates still have life in them. Those at Lormt labor to find the way to ward our land, to discover how such gates can be locked forever. We can send a search party to you in the west, but much of your land is unknown and it will take time to cross the seas.”

Alon appeared to shimmer for a moment and then stood clear again. “The force is failing. We shall do what we can—the Dale lords and those of Arvon will be warned. Now—

Again his figure shimmered but this time it did not recover its density, rather was gone. Hilarion himself swayed forward against the table. His hands fell to its surface, plainly holding him upright, and he was breathing as might a man who had won a race for his life.

Nor were those who had backed him in better shape, holding on to each other or the edge of the table as they made their way back to their places. Even Gull’s slow pace was close to a totter. And when they half fell into their seats they sat wan-faced.

“This then is our task.” Marshal Koris’s voice, meant to call a regiment to order, was loud enough to encompass the rising murmur from the throng before him. “Where there is a gate, there is perhaps still an opening through which may come ill. Do not forget the Kolder.”

Keris saw Anner Osberic’s wide lips shape a snarl.

“There was also but months ago that sweep of ships and men out of nowhere,” Koris continued. “Had it not been for the Falconers and brave Dalesmen they might have found foothold here. You of the Sulcars”—now he addressed Anner directly—“have your tale of coming through an ice wall which opened for your ships into our seas.”

Osberic nodded. “That is true. We came from the north and there was an ice barrier. What brought us through it we have no legend for, but”—he swung now to address Marshal Duratan—“they say you have found all manner of strange histories recently at Lormt. Perhaps there lies something of our own beginnings here.”

Duratan spoke briefly. “If there is any such, Lord Captain, and it is found, be sure you shall know of it speedily.”

Simon Tregarth moved forward a little. His hand had been clasping Jaelithe’s as if he could in some manner return to her the strength she had loosed for Hilarion.

“There are those of us who came by chance and separately. That spot near the Tor Marsh where I found my way, that I know. And there are others—the Lady Kelsie—

Among the throng there was a stir as a slight girl moved forward. She did not step up on the dais but she turned to face the company, and it was plain she was straining her voice to reach all their ears. “My gate I know—it lies in Escore.”

“And the Lady Eleeri—

Another stirring of the crowd. This time the woman who advanced was brown of skin, nearly as brown as the skillfully fashioned leather she wore. Her black hair was long and braided, with lengths of blue and gold beads shining within the loops.

“I followed the road of my Old Ones by choice and not by chance,” she said. “Yes, I know where I entered into this world now mine.”

For the first time Gull now spoke.

“Of the gates, we have always known. In the past…” she paused a moment as if she were carefully selecting the words she would speak next, “we held the Power to be a sacred trust given to us alone—that only one female born could know the talent and use it properly, so much was kept our secret knowledge. Now…” she paused again to look down on the crowded hall, “we see that, though we in the past wrought mightily to protect our world, yet we were not the only ones chosen by the Light to do so. Now I am empowered by our council to speak directly. This”—her hand caressed her jewel—“can be used as detection for any magic, old or new. If a gate once existed and is no longer in service, that it can tell. If a gate which has lain dormant again gathers Power, or perhaps is the goal of others—that, too, we can tell. But we have no wards for such and at Lormt lies our only hope of finding them.

“Now I believe it is in the minds of those gathered here that there must be those to go forth, parties to seek the gates unknown. For so long we have been at war with our neighbors—Alizon, Karsten—we know nothing of what lies farther south or north except, as Lord Anner has said, what is told in the legendary histories of others.

“In Arvon little is known of the south, or what lies beyond the desolation of the Waste. We do not even guess how much land must be searched or whether we can find all which we seek. The Adept Alon has reported that Garth Howell seems to be taking a hand. There is also news from Lormt and the north that those of Alizon can be once more our bane.

“This much we can offer you: When you send forth your search parties, one of our sisterhood will ride with each. We can communicate over distance—how far, we have never really tried—and our weapons have proven their Power.”

Koris and Simon were both staring at her while Jaelithe was nodding.

“This your council has decided…” Simon’s words were not quite a question but she seemed to take them as such.

“This is decided—we are at your service for this undertaking. For is this world not also ours and what you would do will protect it in time to come?”