Dennis McKiernan - Once upon a Spring morn

“Cherie, look.”

Celeste’s gaze followed Roel’s outstretched arm, and in the shadows of dawn loomed a great stone figure of some sort. Roel began leading his horses toward the monument, Celeste following.

As the sky lightened even more, they could see that the statue was some form of creature resting in the sand and facing dawnward, facing into the city. Enormous it was and lionlike it seemed, and they walked in between the outstretched forelegs and toward its uplifted head. “Mithras, but it’s huge,” said Roel, gazing upward as they came to a stop. And now they could see that although it had the body of a lion, it had the features of a man.

“Ha!” exclaimed Roel. “Here we have what the caravan scout called an ‘Abulhol,’ yet I know it as a Sphinx.” And as the first rays of the sun shone through the far gateway and down the wide avenue and out the near gateway to illuminate the stone creature’s face, Celeste frowned and said, “Sphinx, oui, but why was the scout so frightened?”

In that moment the Abulhol bent its head downward and fixed them with its stone gaze and grated, “Tomb robbers deserve nought but my fury,” and it unsheathed its great claws to deal death.

Sphinx

Roel stepped in front of Celeste and wrenched Coeur d’Acier from its sheath and flashed it on high, and the silvered steel blade blazed like argent fire in the rays of the morning sun. But ere Roel could bring the weapon to bear against the monstrous creature of stone, Celeste cried out, “My Lord Sphinx, we are not tomb robbers nor did we come to steal ought.” Even as the Abulhol raised his massive paw to strike, he roared, “That is what they all say!” The horses reared and belled in fright, and Celeste and Roel, yet holding their leads, were dragged hindward. And even as she fought for control of her mare, Celeste cried, “In our case, it is true, my lord. No tomb robbers are we, but instead are on a quest.” The Sphinx stayed his strike, and one of his stone eyebrows rose. “Quest?” He lowered his huge foreleg.

“Oui, my lord,” said Celeste, yet struggling with her mare. “A mission of rescue.”

Although Roel sheathed his sword, the Sphinx did not sheathe its claws, but instead interlaced them to close the way back out so that Celeste and Roel and the horses were trapped in its encirclement. And as the two gained control of the horses, the monster glared down at them. “Hmm. .,” it rumbled, and then inhaled through its nose a great breath. As a creature of solid stone how it could do so, neither Celeste nor Roel could say, yet inhale it did. “I smell gold, yet it is not gold from the tomb, nor do you have gems or other treasures from there.” Celeste spread her arms wide, her hands open and empty, and she said, “We have none, Lord Abulhol.”

“Abulhol, Abulhol? Ah, yes, the nomads call me that, they who are descended from those created by Lord Atum known as Amun known as Ptah, and though the nomads no longer speak the true tongue of the pharaohs, still it is one of my many names.”

“Many names, my lord?”

“I am the Sphinx, the Abulhol, sometimes mistakenly called Kheperi and Re and Atum; I am the Guardian of the Horizon, the Protector of the Dawn; I am the Seeker of Knowledge, the Asker of Riddles, the Enigma; I am set here by Osiris, Lord of the Underworld; I ward this shrine, and any who would violate it feels my wrath.”

“Ah, oui, the bones,” said Celeste. “We have seen your handiwork, my lord.”

The Abulhol glanced at the city and nodded. “Desecrating tomb raiders all.”

“A well-deserved fate, my lord.”

The Sphinx nodded, then said, “Speak of this quest, and perhaps I will let you live, mayhap even aid you.

But first I would have your names.”

“My Lord Sphinx, I am Celeste, Princesse de la Foret de Printemps, and my companion is my betrothed, Sieur Roel, Chevalier du Manoir d’Emile.” Celeste deeply curtseyed and Roel made a sweeping bow.

Clearly flattered by their courtesy, the Abulhol canted his head forward in acknowledgment and said, “Ah, royalty and chivalry. Well, then, since you have passed through the shrine to Meketaten without taking ought, and since you are a princess and a knight, no tomb raiders are you. Hence, I will let you live.” The Sphinx ONCE UPON A SPRING MORN / 277

then sheathed his great claws and said, “But before I give aid, I would have you speak of this quest.” Celeste said, “ ’Tis a tale better told by Sieur Roel.” And she stepped back while Roel stepped forward.

“It begins many seasons past, Lord Sphinx, when I was but a lad. My sister, Avelaine, was troubled by her upcoming arranged marriage to someone she didn’t love, and she and I had ridden out to the ruins of a temple, where. .”

“. . And so you see, we are not after treasure, but a gray arrow instead.”

“And you say the Fates sent you to find such?”

“Oui. Without it we will fail.”

“Hmm. .,” rumbled the Sphinx. “What you seek is the arrow that slew Achilles, for not even the gods could turn that one aside.”

“Know you where this arrow lies?” asked Roel. “I would go through Hell itself to save my sister and brothers.”

The Abulhol rumbled a laugh and said, “Just so, my boy, just so, for to reach it, you will have to go through the realm of Lord Hades.”

“Erebus? We must go through Erebus?”

“You know of Erebus?” asked the Sphinx, somewhat surprised.

“I have read a few of the Greek legends of old,” replied Roel.

“As have I,” said Celeste, “yet I knew not that Erebus is of Faery.”

“It is not,” said the Abulhol. He gestured about and added, “Just as these sands are not of Faery.” Celeste’s eyes widened in amaze. “Not of Faery? If we are not in Faery, just where are we?” The Sphinx smiled and said, “Ever since you crossed out from Faery and into these sands, you have been in a remote area of a realm called Aegypt.” 278 / DENNIS L. MCKIERNAN

Roel shrugged and said, “Regardless as to whether we are in Faery or no, where lies this gray arrow?”

“It is held in the hands of an idol in a temple on the central square of the City of the Dead.”

“And where might we find this City of the Dead?”

“Beyond the black doorway in the Hall of Heroes in the Elysian Fields.”

Celeste frowned as if trying to capture an elusive thought. Of a sudden her eyes widened in revelation.

“ That’s what they mean. Roel, our map: Spx: Sphinx. El Fd: Elysian Fields. Ct Dd: City of the Dead.” But then her face fell and she said, “Oh, my love, I thought all we needed to do was follow our chart duskwise, but if we are to go to the underworld of Erebus, I know not what to do.”

The Sphinx smiled and, with a grating of stone, slowly shook its head. “Quite right, Princess; you will not reach the City of the Dead by riding duskwise.” Roel said, “My Lord Sphinx, you are the guardian of this shrine, one in which I witnessed in a dream a ship that came to bear a loved one away to the afterlife in the underworld. Can you help us find that ship? If not, then our mission will fail, for we need the gray arrow, and time grows perilously short.”

Solemnly the Abulhol nodded. “Indeed, for there is not but this day and four more ere the night of the dark of the moon. Yet it is a terrible thing you ask, for the living have seldom ridden the ferry to the underworld. Still, where you must go is not to Duat-the domain of Osiris-but to that of Hades instead, to his netherworld; hence you will not ride that ferry, but another one altogether.”

“Nevertheless, Lord Sphinx, can you aid us?” Slowly the Abulhol nodded, stone grating on stone. “I can start you on your way, yet I am bound much as are the Three Sisters: you must answer a riddle of mine ere I can give aid. And if you fail, I must slay you.” Celeste groaned, but Roel said, “Speak your conundrum, then.” ONCE UPON A SPRING MORN / 279