Robert Hughes - The Power and the Prophet

He saw, yet didn’t see. Something huge and very noisy was coming around the northern rim, but it was also completely invisible. Gerrig could see the terrified warriors it was knocking over the cliff, as well as those it trampled underfoot. But he couldn’t see the beast itself. “Magic,” he gasped, and the Mari he’d been fighting grunted agreement. Gerrig glanced around to see that his opponent, too, was staring at the spectacle. He brought his sword scything around across the other man’s unprotected belly, chopping a deep gash there. Soon the cobbled street was even more slippery; but, at least for a moment, he was free. He stepped carefully toward his right to get a better view.

It had to be a tugolith. Gerrig didn’t know much about them, other than what he’d learned today. But he had heard the story of how Pelmen was almost pulled apart by a pair of these beasts and how quick wits and a smooth tongue got him free. Gerrig believed himself to be at least as quick-witted as his old acting partner, and even more loquacious. Perhaps he could turn that talent to advantage?

Certainly somebody had to do something. The cloaked monster was drawing very near. Gerrig realized he’d taken refuge in the shadow of another tugolith, the beast that had led Bronwynn up the Down Road. With a boldness born of years of facing potentially hostile audiences, Gerrig tapped Chimolitha on the hind leg. “Excuse me?” he called.

Chimolitha had been at peace until she felt this annoying tapping. She turned around to see what was causing it, very nearly crushing Gerrig in the process. “What?” she demanded, dropping one enormous eyes down to stare the player in the face.

Gerrig swallowed. Despite his own rather large size, this eye alone stretched from his waist to several inches above his head. Ft was impressive, to say the least. He smiled. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Chimolitha answered politely.

“Ah… are you on our side?” Gerrig asked.

The tugolith was puzzled. “What side?”

“The side that Queen Bronwynn is on,” Gerrig explained quickly.

“Who?”

“Queen Bronwynn! That lady there.” Gerrig pointed.

Chimolitha looked over her shoulder. “I like that lady,” she said gravely.

“Good!” Gerrig said enthusiastically. “That’s great to hear! You see that thing coming toward us?” he continued, pointing now at the invisible Thuganlitha.

Chimolitha looked in that direction. “No,” she replied honestly.

“That’s right. Of course, you don’t see it, but can’t you see what it’s doing?”

“What’s if?” Chimolitha asked, frowning. Already this conversation was well beyond her, but she kept struggling to comprehend.

“I think it’s a tugolith,” Gerrig murmured quietly. “Cloaked, of course, so there’s a powershaper involved. But it’s destroying our side! You’ve got to do something!” Indeed, the invisible beast was coming closer by the second. Gerrig’s voice reflected a trace of panic.

“What side?” the bewildered tugolith asked. She still hadn’t figured out that concept, yet this strange man kept on using it anyway.

“Our side! The friends of Queen Bronwynn! Look, that tugolith is right there! Do something!”

“Where?” Chimolitha asked, dancing with anxiety.

“Right there!” Gerrig pointed, moving away from her giant feet with no little anxiety of his own.

“I don’t see!” Chimolitha cried frantically. This stress had unnerved her.

“No! It’s invisible! But look where it’s squashing those men!”

Chimolitha stopped jumping and frowned. “That’s bad,” she grunted.

“You better believe it,” Gerrig earnestly agreed.

Chimolitha understood almost nothing of what was going on. This was a perplexing climax to what had already been a most confusing day. But one thing did make sense. Where there was bad, there was usually Thuganlitha. That was something she could deal with. “Thuganlitha?” Chimolitha trumpeted.

“Are you there?”

“Yes,” came a petulant reply out of nowhere.

“Don’t talk,” another disembodied voice commanded, and the sound of it caused Gerrig to quake in terror. Granted, he’d recognized this as the handiwork of a shaper, but what little he knew about shaping had convinced him that the magician himself would be somewhere miles away. This voice had clearly come from the hidden tugolith’s head! Gerrig swung around behind Chimolitha’s hindquarters in the hopes of not being noticed. He had courage to spare, but no one ever accused him of being foolhardy.

“Why can’t I see you?” Chim asked Thug.

“I don’t know,” Thuganlitha replied, and once again the sorcerer’s voice said:

“I told you not to talk!”

“But she asked me,” Thuganlitha explained, despite the magician’s shooshing whisper.

What Gerrig knew of magic he had learned from Yona Parmi, who’d gotten his information from Pelmen. One thing Yona had emphasized stuck now in Gerrig’s mind. A powershaper could only do one thing at a time. Whoever sat on the back of that beast was shielding himself and the tugolith from view.

As long as the shaper was busy doing that, Gerrig could feel relatively safe. That gave the player an idea.

“Thuganlitha, you are bad,” Chimolitha announced.

“I like bad,” Thug agreed pugnaciously.

“I’m going to horn you.”

“I’ll horn you first!”

“Be quiet, both of you!” Joooms shouted. “Neither of you shall horn the other! You must cease this arguing and trample the remainder of these golden-mailed warriors!”

“What’s golden?” Thuganlitha asked.

“Trampling men is bad!” Chimolitha shouted, frowning reprovingly.

“Only if you trample on the wrong men!” Joooms instructed. “It’s good if you trample on the—augh!”

“Man?” Thuganlitha said, “something is climbing on me.” But the tugolith’s warning came too late.

Gerrig’s blind sword thrust had struck soft flesh, and Joooms was wearing no armor. The shaper fell from his perch, clutching his rump, and immediately magician and tugolith alike became visible to all. Gerrig never saw the dark-skinned wizard alter his shape and skitter away, leaving a piece of his tail behind to thrash in the snow. The actor was too busy rolling across the cobblestones, away from those stamping hooves.

At the sight of Thuganlitha before her, Chimolitha had trumpeted and charged.

They crossed horns. Those mighty tusks clacked together with the jarring impact of a pair of tree trunks.

Up the street, where Bronwynn fought on, the battle raged unabated. But the combatants who were clustered around the top of the Down Road stopped fighting and searched for a place to hide while this battle of behemoths unfolded.

The horns clacked together again, the sound accompanied by a pair of tugolith bellows. The two beasts began circling one another, their huge eyes bloodshot with rage. This was an old grudge, and the battle had long been delayed. They’d never liked each other from the day their mother calfed them, and all toleration had vanished in the violent events of the morning. They circled. Then Thug lunged forward.

He’d always been impulsive, and never as bright as his sister. She’d stepped aside, turning her head to gore him as he thundered past. He wheeled about, screaming in pain and frustration, and launched another charge at her. When she tried to skip away again he moved with her. He buried his horn three feet into her forequarters, and it was Chim’s turn now to cry.

Thug backed up and took aim again. Chim was wounded now, and moving more slowly. He darted for her side, and only her quick leap forward prevented Chim from taking another devastating puncture. As it was, he didn’t miss her completely. A new streak of blood marked her hindquarters. But she gave something back in return. Angled as she was, Chim couldn’t get her horn into him, but she could swing her head. She slung it around, slamming it into his hind leg. Thug wasn’t cut, but he was bruised, an Chimolitha swung back to face him head on. They trumpeted their challenges, and once more Thuganlitha charged. Chimolitha wisely stepped to the other side this time. Thuganlitha raced past her unchecked, and launched himself out into space. He’d run off the top of the High Plateau.