Alan Foster - Krull

Torquil moved to stand beside him as Colwyn rubbed at his sore throat.

"You all right?"

"Well enough, thanks to our friend." He nodded toward the approaching Rell. "If not for his strong arm, that"—and he nodded at the rapidly decomposing alien corpse—"would have snapped my neck."

"So perish all such manifestations of the Beast," Torquil muttered grimly.

Titch was the last to arrive, pushing through the assembled men to gape at the body. "I don't understand," he murmured. He looked over at Ergo. "Where is the seer? The trident… his arm… I don't understand." As they watched, the body continued to decompose before their eyes, until at last there was only a stain of corruption against the clean earth.

Ergo put his arm around the boy. "I don't understand either, boy." He looked over at Ynyr. "Well, wise man? Explain what we've witnessed. Or can it be that in your wisdom, you too were deceived?"

"Well and truly deceived," said Ynyr sadly. "I feel as ignorant at this moment as a mudskipper. I should have seen through the deception. I thought something wrong but could not see it. Fool!" He shook his head angrily, incensed at his costly misperception.

"Neither I nor the seer anticipated this ploy of the Beast. I had thought that when we disposed of the Slayers who rose from the first lake to attack us that we had succeeded in defeating his evil intentions. Clearly that was not so. Likely that attack was naught but a clever diversion, designed to make us look for swords and spears instead of weapons far more subtle and dangerous."

"Some diversion," Ergo said with a snort. "We lost 4 good man… even if he was a thief and a cutthroat."

"None of us threatens the Beast. It is Colwyn he fears and Colwyn he seeks to slay. The Beast has many weapons at his command. Among them are devices far more insidious than mere Slayers. This was one of them: a changeling."

Titch understandably looked confused. "Then he who attacked Lord Colwyn was not my master?" \

Ynyr shook his head. "No, boy. 'Twas a creature sent ouy in the guise of your master the seer, who was my friend, to dupe us until it could wreak the Beast's will upon young Colwyn. The Beast is a master manipulator of false souls, so to change mere faces and bodies is but child's play to him. From now on we must be on our guard against a repetition of such deceptions, though I think we may be safe from such manifestations for a little while. The Beast does not like to reuse methods recently encountered." He turned his gaze to the cyclops. Rell stood nearby, still fighting to regain his wind after his long, desperate sprint.

"How did you know, one-eye? I but suspected that some thing was amiss, but you divined it."

Rell favored them with a half-smile. "Would that I could claim such a talent. Nay, I was but checking our rear when the swamp disgorged the seer's body alongside Menno's. The quicksand buckles and heaves like a fat man's stomach. It did so barely in time to reveal truth to me.

"I came as fast as I could. If I had been but a little faster we might not have lost the chance to locate the temple."

"And if you had been a step slower or less accurate in your throw, we might not have reason left to regret the loss," Ynyr told him firmly. "We are all in your debt."

"What is this talk of debts?" Colwyn joined the discussion. Behind him, Torquil and Kegan continued to exchange mutual recriminations for not spotting the deceiver, while the rest of the men argued among themselves.

"Specifically of one debt," Ynyr explained, "which all owe to Rell for saving your life."

"Already I owe much to many, and still we have not reached the end of our journey." He extended a hand. "This will have to serve as my thanks for now, since it is all I have to offer."

The cyclops smiled as he took Colwyn's hand in his own. "Gold is common, friendship is not. This is thanks enough."

"May it shine as brightly. What of the real seer?"

"Dead, as I've said. Back in the swamp by the quicksand."

"He gave his life for us," Colwyn murmured, "trying to aid us in our journey."

"He was my only family," said the downcast Titch. "I never knew my father or mother. He was both to me, and teacher as well."

"We're your family now, boy," said Colwyn gently.

Ergo took the lad aside. Titch was struggling not to cry. He did not succeed. Colwyn forced himself to turn from the sound of weeping to confer with Ynyr and Torquil. He had listened too much to weeping lately.

"We have plans to make. We have no way of finding the Black Fortress. With the seer dead and the temple submerged, our window on the Beast has been broken,"

Ynyr nodded thoughtfully. "So it would appear."

"Then what are we to do?"

Ynyr considered. When he spoke again it was with evident reluctance. "There is one other way of locating the Fortress, if the one I have in mind will help us. She sees without the aid of devices, a gift of breeding." He threw Colwyn an odd look as he said this, but Colwyn was not of a mind to question the old man's thoughts.

"You speak of another seer?."

"Not precisely another seer, no. Someone. . . different."

"And who might that be?"

"The widow of the web."

Torquil turned to spit disgustedly. "That creature helps no one, except to help them to a quick and horrible death. None who go there return."

"It is not she who is to blame but the captor who keeps watch over her. The same captor that protects her from the attentions of Slayers as much as men. This creature makes no distinction between Slayers and supplicants, but destroys all who approach the widow with equal dispatch."

"Nor will it make any special distinction for us," Torquil pointed out.

"She has great powers, the widow."

"To kill," Torquil admitted readily.

"She may not kill me, for I know her name."

"That's no secret. Her name is death. A name I would not call out no matter how great my need."

"No. I mean her real name, her true name. An old and powerful name still respected today."

Colwyn looked doubtful. "It sounds too dangerous, Ynyr.

I value your council too highly to let you risk your life for a vision that may not be granted."

"I must try. We all risk our lives on this journey. My risk is no greater than yours." He smiled knowingly. "And I have less life to lose. I sometimes think I have lived too long already. As for my counsel that you value so highly, it would be of little use to you if we were to spend years wandering aimlessly about in search of the Fortress. You need to find and penetrate it quickly, before the Beast has time to devise defenses to keep you out. By moving as fast as we have we keep him a little off balance, a touch uncertain. Thus he cannot focus his powers as effectively as he otherwise might."

Torquil looked away. "So we keep him off balance, eh? Tell that to the seer, or to Darro and Menno."

"You have no comprehension of the forces the Beast could bring to bear on us if given time."

"And I'd like to keep it that way, old man!" He turned and stalked away from them.

"He discounts our need," said Ynyr.

"He's frightened, that's all," Colwyn countered. "I'm frightened, too."

"It is no vice to be human. I must try to obtain the widow's help, Colwyn. I can think of no other way to locate the Fortress quickly. We cannot chance stumbling upon it by accident or luck. We do not have that much time. And Lyssa certainly does not.

"You say that you value my counsel. I counsel this approach. You cannot value what I say in one breath and disregard what I recommend in the next."

"I see what Torquil means about your twisting words." Colwyn's expression was grim. "Very well. If you're sure this is the only choice remaining to us…"

"It is, my boy, it is. I wish it were otherwise. I wish it more than you can imagine, for reasons that have nothing to do with the real risk to my person. But each must do what each can do. Perhaps it was preordained."