David Zindell - Lord of Lies

He placed his hand on my shoulder again. When he saw that I was in no danger of losing my dinner, he said, 'Let's get away from here.'

'Wait!' I said again. 'Give me a moment.'

The smell of pine trees and fear stirred something inside me A soft voice, urgent yet sweet, seemed to be calling me as if from the stars I pushed my head outside the window again, and twisted about to gaze up through the darkness. And there, some twenty feet higher up toward the tooth-like battlements, a small shape seemed fastened to the wall.

'A torch!' I cried out. 'Someone bring me a torch!'

One of the guards went out into the hallway and returned a few moments later bearing a torch in his hand. He gave this oily, flaring length of wood to me, and I thrust it out the window as I again craned my neck about to gaze up the castle's wall. And now I could see, faintly, what my heart had known to be true: by some miracle, a young girl had managed to climb out the window and claw her way up the windswept wall.

'What is it Val?' Maram said to me. 'What do you see?'

The girl, perhaps nine years old, stood with her bare, bloody feet wedged into a narrow joint between the wall's white stones. Her hands had found a vertical crack and were jammed inside it. It seemed unbelievable that she had remained stuck to the wall thus for more than an hour. She was trembling, from cold and exhaustion, and was near the end of her strength. She looked straight down at me, the black curls of her hair falling about her frightened face. Through the dark, her eyes found mine and called to me with the last desperate fire of hope. Her certainty that I would not leave her to die here touched me deep inside and brought the burn of tears to my eyes. The wild beating of her heart was a sharp pain that stabbed into my own.

'The priests are gone!' I called up to her. 'Can you climb down?'

She shook her head slowly as if fearful that a more strenuous motion would loosen her precarious hold upon the wall. I felt the cold, rough knurls of the cracked granite through her sweating hands; I felt the slight muscles along her forearms bunching and burning and growing weaker with each of her quick, painful breaths. I knew that she could not climb back down toward the window, not even an inch

'Let me see!' Maram called to me. He pulled me back into the room and tore the torch from my hand. And then it was his turn to look outside I heard him mutter, 'Ah, poor little lamb — too bad, too bad.'

He pushed back from the window, careful not to let the wind blow the torch's flames into his face. He turned to look at me as he shook his head. 'Ah, Val, what can we do?' Master Juwain and the two guards had now joined us by the window. I looked at them, and at Maram, and said, 'We have to bring her down.'

'Ah, Val — but how?'

One of the guards suggested sending for a rope and lowering it to the girl from the battlements high above.

'No, there is no time,' I said. 'We'll have to climb up to her.'

'Climb this wall?' Maram said. 'Who will climb it?'

In answer, I unbuckled my sword and pressed it into his hand. It was first time since it had been given to me that I allowed it out of my reach.

'Are you mad?' Maram said to me. 'Let us at least search for a rope first before you — '

'No, there is no time !' I said again. I knew that the girl outside who had looked slight into my soul would soon lose her hold. 'Help me, Maram.'

I reached to pull at the rings of steel encasing me, but the sudden and silent plaint that sounded inside me told me that I didn't even have time to remove my armor. I moved over to the window again and gripped the cold sill.

'But, Val!' Maram protested, 'she's a slave. And you are … who you are.'

But who was I, really? While the guard held the torch for me, I again stuck my head out the window to descry my route up to the girl. She gazed down at me. And her dark, wild eyes showed me that I was a man who couldn't let a young girl simply fall to her death.

With everyone's help, I backed up and out the window, gripping the edge of the casement above it as I pushed my feet against the sill. The darkness of night fell upon me; the cold wind rattled my hair against the wall's ancient stone. Through empty space I stared down at the rocks far below. My belly tightened, and for a moment it seemed I might lose my dinner after all. How could I climb this naked wall? How could any man? Once each spring, I knew, my father walked around the entire castle inspecting it for any crack or exposed joint in its stones. Such flaws in the masonry were always mended, making it impossible for an enemy to scale the walls. But here, a hundred feet up, it seemed that no such repairs had been made for a hundred years. Who could have thought to prevent a simple slave girl, in blinding fear, from climbing out a window upon cold, cracked stone?

I drew in a quick breath and turned my gaze upward. The guard held the torch out the window, and its fluttering vellow light revealed a crack above my head. 1 reached up and thrust my fingers into it. I found another crack with my left hand. And then, as I fit the toe of my boot into a narrow joint in the stone to the right of the window I slowly pulled myself up. Two feet, gained this way, and then a couple more as I pulled and pushed against other cracks and other joints.

It was desperate hard work in the dead of the night, and a single slip would kill me. My hands were slick with sweat; the rough granite soon abraded the flesh from my knuckles and left them bloody I suddenly remembered the story of how Telemesh had fought his way up the face of Skartaru, the black mountain, to rescue an ancient warrior bound there. Lines of verse came unbidden into my mind:

Through rain and hail he climbed the wall Still wet with bile, blood and gall. .

I fought my way up another foot and then another. The torch's light soon weakened so that I could barely make out the features of the stonework above me. 1 nearly slipped, and tore my fingernails to the quick on a little lip of granite. The immense black weight of the sky seemed to lie upon my shoulders and push me back toward the earth.

Where dread and dark devour light, He climbed alone into the night.

But I was not alone. As if in answer to my silent supplication, Flick joined me there beneath the stars. His whirling, fiery form showed a crack about three feet above me that 1 would have missed. And the girl kept looking at me with wild hope. She called no encouragement, with her lips. But her eyes, clear and deep, kept calling me and urging me upward. They reminded me that I had a greater strength than ever knew. This connection of sight and soul was like an invisible rope tied between us and joining our fates together as one.

At last I drew up by her side. My fingers clawed a little crack; the tips of my boots had bare purchase on a broken joint of stone. The trembling of my body was almost as great as the girl's. I felt her heart beating wildly a couple of feet from mine. The wind carried her scent of fear and freshly-soaped hair over my face. Through the dark I looked at her and said, 'Grab onto me!'

She shook her head. I knew that she didn't have the strength to let go her hold without falling. 'Wait a moment!' I said. I looked about and espied a wider and deeper crack a little above me. I jammed my whole hand into it. Its sharp knurls bruised my bones. When I was sure of my hold, I reached out with my other hand to wrap it around the girl's narrow waist. Then, in one carefully coordinated motion, I helped her up and onto my back, even as she threw her arms around my neck and locked her bare legs around my waist. In this way, carrying her piggyback like the little sister I had never had, I began climbing back toward the window.