Andre Norton - Horn Crown

Why had I? I had never aimed for this place. I had swung off into the unknown because I still owed Lord Garn a debt, repayment for my own folly. That I had found Iynne had been none of my own doing. Nor did I understand why the forces which I perhaps could never truly understand had summoned me here.

“I am kinless, clanless,” I answered. “Rightfully my lord has judged me. Had I not kept silent when you sought the hill shrine you would not be here.”

For a long moment she was silent. Then, when she spoke again, her voice was very low.

“Thus you have come to clean your honor—as a liegeman would say.”

Her speech was not that of the Iynne I knew. It was sharp, quick, with a sly sneer in it.

“I am no longer liegeman, and, as you know, for the kinless there is no honor. I failed at my guard—there is no erasing that.”

“You think to take me back—back to those who do not look beyond the labor of their own hands, who have no power and do not know what witlings they truly are!”

Her voice was becoming louder, more shrill. “I am not a bond maid to be pushed here and there as if I had neither wit nor desire of my own. I am—” She fell silent and I was caught enough by her sharp protest to ask:

“You are what then, Lady Iynne?”

She surprised me with a laugh, again there was slyness, a sneering note in her voice: “Wait and see, kinless, clanless one. You have meddled with matters you cannot touch no matter how far and how high yon would reach. I bear within me now—yes, I a virgin—carry a child! A child of power, and such power as will make him ruler of this world. I was chosen—I am fulfilled! You cannot win me out of this land—try and see! I am a part of its greater force now—”

I thought of that crone and her evil mouthings, of the two things the cup flood had revealed at the shrine pillars. That these were allied, if not in a common bond, then in general spirit, to the Presence of the Black Tower I did not doubt. That Iynne would rejoice in such evil possessing her was a thought I could not hold. She must be truly englamoured; she had not openly chosen the Dark.

Now I slowed pace and taking from my belt the cup, never far from my hand, I held it out before her, turning it so she could look upon the Horned Man’s face. In the moonlight that was bright enough, an if the cold metal of its fashioning somehow sensed what I would do and would aid me in the doing.

“Do you know this, Iynne?”

“Yes, it is Kurnous—the Hunter. But what have you to do with him, Elron?” I caught sheer surprise breaking through the former harshness of her speech. “He is the warden, the protector of the Moon Lady. It was she who summoned me, whose bidding made me thus—”

No, that memory, foul as any stench upon the night air, which I had only partly understood, had certainly not been of Gathea’s Dians, nor of Gunnora, nor of the Horned Lord. Someone had perverted a rite to ensnare my companion. How deeply she was caught within that net I must discover, perhaps for the safety of us both.

“Dians summoned you?”

“Dians?” She repeated that name as if she had not heard it before. “Who is Dians? It was Raidhan—she who is the Elder, the ruler of the moon’s shadow. She is the Wise One, the one who would bring the Great Lord to life, calling me to form a body which he can use.”

“And Gunnora,” I tested yet further, “has she also spoken?”

“Dians, Gunnora!” The petulant tone was back in her voice. “Names which mean nothing—where did you learn them, kinless one? But more important, why do you carry the Horned Hunter’s cup?”

“It was a gift to me. Listen, Iynne, you have been used by Dark Ones. Dians—Gunnora—they are the rightful ladies of the moon. It is their power which this Raidhan of yours has usurped. Could you not tell when you looked upon those monsters back there that you were dealing with the Dark?”

“Your wits are awry!” Once more her tone was shrill. “ You are of the Dark—not I! I tell you, I was summoned— I was chosen. I have slept this night in the arms of the Great One. I am his beloved—his chosen vessel—”

Almost she won free of me then, for she swept about and clawed at my face so suddenly I was not prepared. I was left holding only folds of the cloak. Then I lunged forward, pinning her arms, holding her so closely to me that I could see the expression of fear and loathing which distorted her face.

“I will not argue with you.” I knew that at this moment she could not be touched by any reason which I might offer. Gathea—Gruu—at that moment I would have given the sword at my side to have them with me. That they could still be caught in that place of complete dark gnawed at me now that my struggle at the shrine was over. “What remains is that we are alone in a land which is full of ensorcellments and we must stand together or we shall be pulled down.”

Her hands, which had been attempting to fight me off, fell to her sides. She looked from right to left and the moon was bright enough to show me that the shadow of a hunted creature had fallen upon her.

“I was safe—I am safe—Raidhan shall find me!” Only that did not ring as confident as she might have wished it to.

Still she seemed to be through fighting me, and I had no desire to stand in suspect openness on a road which ran directly into a place which, Moon Shrine or not, was befouled by evil. Thus once more, hand on her shoulder, I urged her on and she went without a struggle.

I needed some sanctuary. Everything behind me, dreamlike though some of that seemed to be now, had drained my strength. If I could find a temporary campsite, could I be sure that I might keep Iynne with me if I slept? Perhaps I must go to the limit of binding her hands and feet, thus making sure of her. Nor did I see any wrong in that considering what I had witnessed at the shrine in that forgotten town.

The road took a curve ahead and, out of the land, casting some very dark shadows, stood a series of hillocks which, to my mind, bore an unpleasant resemblance to grave barrows such as the clansmen will raise to a lord whose rule has proven safety in the midst of great disaster. If these were such memorials, the lords of renown here had been many indeed.

The wind, which had caused that constant whispering in the grass and among the leaves of the trees, changed its pathway. Now it came once more from my right hand which I star-judged to be the west. It brought with it a scent which was like that I had once found refreshing in the cup—keen, clear, and clean. Instinctively I faced in that direction, seeking what might promise some link (for so bemused by all that had happened was I that I would accept even scent as a guide now) with the Horned Lord.

A dim track broke away from the road, winding out among the barrows—westward. With no more promise than that scent on the wind should we take that way? It was dappled with shadows as I brought us both to a halt and looked down its length, for the barrows threw their half dark across it.

Again Iynne showed resistance.

“Where do you go?” she demanded. To me it seemed that she was two persons—sometimes the girl of Garn’s House, bidable, meek, but more often the other who was no friend to me and who lusted for strangeness and freedom of another kind.

I was right, the scent I sought was heavier down the vale between the looming mounds. Daring to loose my two-handed hold on Iynne, I brought out the cup and on impulse turned the face of the Horned Man to face in the direction of the path.

I had my answer, and, so accustomed had I now become to things outside my knowledge appearing to help or hinder, I was not too surprised when there was again an awakening of light in the eyes of the face. A twin set of faint beams picked out the direction which lay on into the heart of what might be a vast memorial to long-vanished lords—perhaps even armies who had battled here and buried the slain within the land for which they had struggled.