Alan Foster - Krull

The Slayer stepped out of the copse. Ergo looked around wildly, too terrified to cry out and certainly beyond attempting any incantations. Big as the Slayer was, it seemed certain to remain unaffected by any mumblings he might muster, even if he succeeded in finding his voice.

Bending over, he grabbed up a broken branch and brandished it in the Slayer's direction. Its hand dropped to the battle-ax tied to its waist.

The bush on Ergo's left moved. Reflexively, his gaze moved from the Slayer to the bush, to see an enormous cyclops step into the clearing. He was holding a tree-sized trident, or so it appeared to Ergo. All this was too much for an essentially gentle mind. Ergo's eyes rolled up and he fell unconscious to the earth.

The Slayer too had taken note of the Cyclops's appearance, but its reaction was not what Ergo would have anticipated. It let out a violent hiss, then whirled and retreated, crashing madly through the bushes. The cyclops considered its departure for a moment, then moved forward to bend over Ergo's crumpled body. Fingers touched Ergo's forehead. Then the one-eyed giant turned and hurried off in pursuit of the fleeing Slayer.

Colwyn turned in his saddle to look back along the line of men. He spoke to Torquil. "My friend is lingering longer than usual."

"Perhaps he had business in the trees," said Torquil noncommittally. Bardolph overheard and moved closer.

"We were, uh, jesting with each other when he smelled something and went exploring. I told him not to fall behind."

Colwyn's gaze returned to the empty trail behind them. "He'd better not. I don't want to lose time waiting up for him."

They heard the scream then. It hung long in the air, making the horses start, before finally fading to silence. Somewhere behind them a life had disappeared along with that scream.

Colwyn turned his horse. "Back, and quickly!" The others rushed after him.

There had been an evening of the most exquisite delights, Ergo recalled, spoiled only by the unexpected early arrival of the young lady's husband. This propitiated the most unfortunate defenestration of the reveler, who was saved from a early death only by the fortuitous passage at the critical moment of a hay wagon beneath the good lady's window.

His head now reminded him of that night, for it throbbed as strongly as if he'd struck the street instead of the wagon. It seemed that the outraged husband had followed him even this far, for someone was peering into his eyes. Or into his eye, rather, for surely one could not penetrate where two could see? Or were there two eyes, small and bright red and alive with malicious intent? He could not tell. It was very confusing.

"There he is!" a voice shouted in the distance. The eye or eyes vanished. He struggled to call out but only a disreputable gargle emerged from his strained throat. Footsteps sounded close by. Then he remembered and tried to sit up.

A hand braced his shaky back. "Easy there, Ergo" That was Colwyn, he thought. Colwyn's voice and his strong arm. He did not remark on the familiarity between king and commoner. Colwyn was an uncommon king.

"Are you all right?" another voice inquired. Torquil there, examining the supine body. "Doesn't seem to be any bleeding. No sign of a wound."

"Only to my mind," Ergo mumbled. "Horrible. It was horrible." He tried to point, but discovered that his fingers shook as he gestured with them. "A creature with no eyes over there, and over there another with only one eye, and the both of them preparing to decide who was to have the pleasure of cutting me up, I'll wager,"

"A cyclops," Ynyr murmured, raising his head to search the nearby trees with suddenly interested eyes, "and a Slayer. And our poor Ergo caught in the middle."

"I can't vouch for the Slayer, for he had yet to draw his weapon, but the one-eye was aiming a spear right at me! I would have turned him into a rat if… if…"

"If what?" asked Torquil.

Ergo's gaze fell. "I, uh, seem to have forgotten the formula."

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Ergo," Colwyn said reassuringly. "To be surprised by two such formidable individuals would give even a king pause."

"That's true," said Ergo, feeling much relieved.

Ynyr continued to study the surrounding trees. "If the cyclops had been aiming at you, my magnificent little friend, you'd be dead now instead of offering us descriptions of your intimidating visitors."

"If not at me, then who?"

Ynyr spoke without turning. "He was aiming at the Slayer, for there is an ancient hatred between them. It was the Slayer whose death rattle we heard, then.

"It is said that long ago the Cyclopes' ancestors lived on a world far from Krull, and that they possessed two eyes like other humans. Then they made a bargain with the Beasts who command the Slayers; they gave up an eye apiece in return for the power of precognition."

Torquil's brow furrowed and Ynyr patiently explained. "The power to see into the future. But they were cheated, for the only futures they were sensitized to… permitted to see… were the times of their own deaths. It is said that precognition is but a dream even to the Beasts, but that by a certain artifice they can sometimes instill such an ability in others not of their race, in particular the means to see the time of death forthcoming. This they cannot do for themselves. It may be that they therefore experimented upon the unfortunate cyclopes, hoping to learn that which would enable them to make use of this ability themselves.

"There are others who say all this is so much myth and superstition. Of one thing there is no doubt. The cyclops are sad, solitary creatures, and they hate the Slayers and their master worse than any normal man, for it is not meet that anyone should have forewarning of his day of death."

"Today would have been my day, then," murmured Ergo as he climbed to his feet, "if it hadn't been for him. And I thought he meant me harm. I am ashamed."

"No reason to be," said Ynyr. "Their appearance is fearsome and they rarely seek human companionship. It may be that this one is different."

"Not very different," said Torquil. "You'll notice he didn't hang around to greet us."

"I am sorry he did not," said Ergo sadly, "for I would like to give him my thanks and offer my apology for having suspected ill of him."

"It would not matter to him one way or the other," Ynyr explained. "The cyclopes react the same to thanks or imprecations. Each attends to his or her own wants and cares nothing of what normal men think of them. If he saved you intentionally, and it seems certain that he did, he had reasons of his own for doing so."

"Reasons most excellent," Ergo agreed. Having reassembled, the expedition headed back toward the trail, but not before Ergo had checked to make sure that the terrifying fracas had not cost him his supply of dearly won gooseberries. He'd suffered too much to abandon them now.

Colwyn was not pleased to find that the trail climbed above the wooded ridge. Once more he found himself traversing bare rock broken only by the occasional wind-dwarfed tree. He did not like open, cold places. An imaginative man might find his mind wandering among the boulders and ravines, unwillingly transforming them into malign lines and designs.

That sharp, dark jumble of serrated granite off to his left, for example, might well be the exterior of the Black Fortress. That was a barrier he would confront soon enough, and he drew no joy from the image. He preferred to think only of Lyssa and the few moments they'd shared. The forest reminded him of her. The naked stone did not.

Odd how so powerful an attachment could be formed on the basis of so brief an encounter, he mused. It was as if they had been man and wife for years instead of merely newlyweds-to-be. It had surprised him then and had seemed to surprise her as well. Only Ynyr did not seem surprised at the extent of Colwyn's feelings for a woman but fleetingly met. But then, little seemed to surprise Ynyr. Turold had been very different.