David Drake - The Mirror of Worlds

Neither he nor Garric thought Leel was afraid of the dark; but a sword and the will to use it could get you through a lot of situations, frightening and otherwise. They'd come close enough to see that the lights were pots hanging from poles and leaping with smoky, deep red flames. "Faugh!" growled Kore. "It's tar they're burning." Garric hadn't doubted her, but the breeze curled smoke toward him and he coughed uncontrollably. Even after he was clear of the wisps, the back of his throat felt flayed. "Milord!" Leel cried. "We've found travellers! It may be one's the man you seek!" It was fully dark, now.

The flares stretched a furlong both east and west along the shore of the tar lake, though only those toward the middle were hung from poles. People, primarily men but some women and a few children, passed in partial silhouette against the low flames. The men beneath the hanging lights were armed, several of them carrying shields as well as wearing bits of armor. The man they clustered about wore a striped cape of thin silk and a helmet decorated with the tail plumage of some flightless bird. "Milord, he rides on a giant!" Platt cried, obviously trying to curry favor. "I guess that proves he's the one you're looking for, right?" "Milord," said Garric, walking toward the man in the plumed helmet. He bowed, low enough to show deference without cringing. "I'm Garric or-Reise, a traveller from the north and just passing through your remarkable domain." "Bring him up into the light where I can see him," Holm grumbled. He stepped back to make room, his gauzy cape fluttering. It was obviously for ornament rather than warmth in this steamy bowl. Garric had thought Holm's apparent height was a trick of the plume and perhaps buskins, but even in thin silk slippers the fellow stood a hand's-breadth taller than Garric. He was thin as well, though not particularly healthy: his cheeks were puffy and his hand trembled where he gripped his cross-belt. Holm's eyes moved from the ogre-squatting placidly on the ground, a coarse mix of gravel and bits of clam shell-to Shin, and finally to the hilt of Garric's long sword. He looked up abruptly and said, "I'm a wizard, you know!" "Master Leel had mentioned that," Garric said easily. The situation wasn't dangerous yet, but it could very quickly get that way. From the look of Holm's retainers, the fellow supplemented the income of his groves with banditry. The tar lake with its hidden paths would be as safe a lair as any mountain crag. But Holm appeared to have a use for him… "Leel also said I might be able to do you a favor of some sort," Garric continued. "While my companions and I are merely passing through, we're certainly willing to show our gratitude to you for passage." "You'll need more than gratitude, you know," Holm snapped. "Unless you can swim the strait-" He pointed behind him.

Garric could smell salt in the air, and waves sounded faintly on a strand. "-and that's three miles wide. The only ship that can cross it is mine. You see your position, fellow?" The tossing flames from the tar pots lighted hard faces and weapons close at hand. Lord Holm had twenty or thirty bodyguards- "Twenty-seven," interjected Carus. "And Holm himself, if you want to count him." -probably as much to control the laborers-the grubbies, Wagga had called them-who tended his orchards as to loot his neighbors. From beyond the ring of armed men, those laborers watched. They were slight folk wearing minimal garments and seemed the same type as the farmers Garric had seen north of the teak forest. "I've already told you, milord," Garric said, keeping his voice pleasant but making his control obvious, "that I'm willing to do you a courtesy. If you'll ask politely, we can settle the matter and proceed-I hope-to my purchasing food for me and my companions." Under normal circumstances life for the laborers under Holm wouldn't be much different than the living they scratched for landlords of their own race. Now, from what Wagga'd said, they were risking the guards' wrath to run away. "Yes, a goat would be very welcome," Kore said, startling those standing near her. A spearman jumped sideways, tangled his feet, and crashed to the ground in a storm of curses. "Courtesy, you say?"

Holm said. He shot a glance at Leel, then glared at Garric. "Very well. My palace-the palace of my family for seven generations-is out on the lake. Perhaps you saw it when my men guided you across?" "A fort made of bitumen blocks?" Garric said. "Yes, we did." "It's a palace," Holm said with a flash of irritation. "It's very well appointed. If the walls are asphalt instead of stone, what of it?" He cleared his throat. "But that's neither here nor there," he continued.

"My laborers are a superstitious lot. They've gotten it into their minds that the shapes which wind twists the fog into are ghosts, so they refuse to go out to tend the orchards. And I must admit-" Holm made a sour face and looked around him. Guards dropped their eyes rather than meet his glance. "-that they've infected some of my retainers. What I want as price of your passage across the strait-" He stared at Garric. He looked something like a dyspeptic owl. "-is for you to spend the night in my palace. That will break the spell. The, ah, rumor, that is. No more than that. If you refuse-" Garric curtly waved Lord Holm to silence. If the fool kept on, he was going to say something that couldn't easily be ignored. "Milord," he said. "I have your promise of passage for me and my companions if we spend the night in that black palace? On your life, you swear?" "I do," said Holm.

"That's all you need do, and I'll give you every help." "And a goat," said ogre. "A goat tonight. And other food, no doubt, as my master wishes." "Yes, a goat!" said Holm. The quivering light increased his look of agitation. "Do you agree, fellow? Do you?" "And one other thing," said Shin, his first words since they'd crossed the tar lake.

"We will need a guide. Which of your brave men will guide us, milord?"

"There's no need of that," said Leel. "There's a causeway from here on the south shore straight to the palace. The lake shifts some. They built a causeway so's it couldn't be cut off. Long ago. Long, long ago." Garric looked at his companions. The aegipan was smiling; Kore rose to her feet. "Then we agree," Garric agreed. "Master Leel, will you lead us to this causeway, if you please?" "After they bring the goat, dear master," said the ogre. "I feel a meal should be a good one if it might be my last, don't you think?" She began to laugh in a booming voice. In Garric's mind, King Carus laughed also with the joy of bloody anticipation. *** Ilna stood in the mouth of the cave, looking toward the valley's slope. The sun behind her must be down, but she couldn't yet see stars above the shadowed land. "We ought to be out there!" Asion muttered from within the cave. "Karpos, youknow we should." A child whimpered. Its mother crooned, "Hush little baby…," but Ilna could hear fear in the woman's voice also. All the men in the village were far from the cave and safety, certain victims if Temple's plan didn't work. "If we were all visible, we might draw some of the Coerli to us," Temple said calmly. "They won't come after Ilna alone in the doorway, not with easy prey elsewhere. She'll tell us when it's time for us to come out." The air grew hazy but brightened. In the high sky the alien sun formed the way blood seeps from a pin-prick. Four lines of red wizardlight quivered on the hillside, outlining a doorway, and a trio of hunters bounded from their world into that of humans. A villager beneath the dam at the far end of the valley began winding a bull-roarer through the air, making a rhythmic drone that echoed from the slopes. The leading Coerli had started toward the cave in their usual pattern, but the sound drew their attention to the men of the community gathered in the open. He began spinning his hooked cord, although he was nearly a mile from his intended prey. A warrior gave a yipping howl and bounded toward the men. More Coerli sprang from door of light. Those and the further catmen following spread to the flanks of the initial trio, widening the living net. More Coerli appeared in threes; then the final clot, the younger warriors, chasing after their elders as a rabble. The total number was beyond Ilna's ability to count on the fingers of both hands, but she identified the pattern of the hunters as being the same as what she'd seen the previous night when all of the beasts had left their lair. "All right," she said to her companions. She didn't look back into the cave. "They're all here.