Ширли Мерфи - The Shattered Stone [calibre]

“ Save yourself or die, Ramad of Zandour! Make them kill!”

“I won’t!”

But he struggled for breath, and then in utter terror he willed one man to slash the next. Blood flowed; and his bonds were loosed at once. Quickly they grew tight again, and again Ram made one man cut the next. Again the bonds loosed.

“ Make them kill, Ramad! Make them kill, if you would live.”

“No! No!” And he felt Fawdref then, the dark wolf grown immense to loom up before the Seer, felt Fawdref’s power lashing out with his own . . . and he woke.

Woke in the storeroom seeing Skeelie bent over him, seeing his mother, Dlos, their faces harsh with concern. Saw their relief as he reached to touch Mamen’s face. He tried to speak and could not, felt the Seer pulling at him still, felt the cold cloak of oblivion waiting so close. Felt Fawdref standing guard; then felt Fawdref waver, his power slacken as the Seer of Pelli brought the power of his apprentices too, down against Ram; felt Jerthon there standing with Fawdref, both locked against the Seer’s cold darkness.

*

Tayba touched his face; it was like fire. Dlos began to wrap him in cool, damp cloths. They were all touching him as if they could pour life into him from themselves. Skeelie whispered, “He is pulled so far away. He . . . I can’t . . .” She reached to take Tayba’s hand; and when their hands linked Tayba could see a dark vastness and see Ram spinning in its vortex as in a black river where time had no meaning. He was tumbled to a shore where the bones of dead men rose and walked.

Skeelie’s vision vanished. Tayba turned away shuddering. The little girl knelt there terrified for Ram. Even with Jerthon to help him, with Fawdref, the tides of power he touched were so dangerous. Skeelie put her arms around him, wept against him and could not stop.

But when Ram woke the next morning he was quite well, as if he had never been sick. He said to Skeelie, “I am going up into the mountain.” They were alone, she having brought him mawzee cakes and fruit.

“But—all right. But why are you?”

“There is something there, Skeelie. A wonder is there. Something—something of terrible importance. Fawdref knows. He would show me—but when he tries to, the Seer of Pelli sees, too. I will go up among the great wolves where the power of the bell will be strongest. Then—then I think I can block the Pellian’s Seeing.”

“I will steal the bell for you. I know where it is.”

Ram said smugly, “I already have.” He drew the bell out from beneath his blankets. “I got it this morning before anyone was awake. That old chest—Dlos has everything in there.” He felt comforted, very sure, having the wolf bell near.

“Why didn’t you take it before? Wouldn’t it have helped against HarThass?”

“I expect so. But HarThass wanted me to have the bell, wanted to make me do his bidding with the bell.”

“Ram, I don’t understand. Why hasn’t HarThass sent soldiers to capture you and take you to Pelli. Wouldn’t he—”

“He thinks—he thinks to train me so well I will come to him on my own,” Ram said, smiling. “It has become a game with him. Oh, he will send soldiers if . . . when he finds he can’t train me so. But not yet. He is like a hunting cat with a small creature, teasing it.” He grinned, winked at her. “Well, that small creature can turn around and bite. Only he doesn’t believe that will happen.”

They left Burgdeeth in late afternoon, thinking they would not be missed so quickly if all Skeelie’s chores were finished so no one would look for her.

“Dlos wouldn’t care,” Ram said.

“No, but your mother would. She doesn’t want you on the mountain. But she won’t follow us though. I—I didn’t bring a waterskin,” she said hastily. “There’s water on the mountain and in the caves, Dlos told me.”

“How does Dlos know about the mountain? No one goes there.”

“Dlos’s husband was a Seer. He told her.”

“A Seer? But he . . .” Ram stared at Skeelie. “I never—I’ve never seen that in her mind. How come he was here? A slave?”

“No, he was Venniver’s spy. He was the man who taught Venniver to shield his thoughts and helped him come unseen on Jerthon and Drudd and our other Seers and capture us. I was only small, but later Jerthon showed me how it was. You didn’t . . . Dlos blocks very well. I suppose she learned it from him.”

“But he—I can’t believe that Dlos—she wouldn’t have “

“She knew what he did.” Skeelie pulled her cloak closer against the sharp breeze. “Dlos loved him in spite of his treachery. She couldn’t stop what he did. I think she—she was almost relieved when Venniver killed him. They had disagreed about something, and Venniver grew angry and killed him. She felt—it’s awful to say, but she felt he was better dead than a traitor, selling his own people into slavery.”

“Still she loved him though,” Ram said.

“Yes.”

Ram frowned. “That is why Dlos has such sadness. Her humor is all on top, hiding the sadness.”

The shadows spread out from the boulders in dark misshapen pools. It was a game to slip from one shadow to the next and keep boulders between them and Burgdeeth. Ram said, “What do you mean, Mamen won’t follow us? If she finds me gone, she. . . .”

“She won’t come this night.”

“Why not? Oh yes, she will. You don’t know how she hates the wolves. What are you grinning about?”

“She won’t come tonight, Ram.”

“You’re shielding. Why are you shielding? What. . . .”

She was grinning fit to kill and wouldn’t let him in. At last she said, her face reddening, “She won’t come this night. She’ll be busy with Venniver. He is planning a supper for two, in his chambers.”

He frowned, turned away, and was painfully embarrassed. “I see.” At last he turned to look at Skeelie. “How do you know? You can’t—Venniver is nearly impossible to See! His mind is—he blocks. You can’t. . . .”

She seemed to find it all very funny. “I didn’t See. I overheard him in the corridor. I was—borrowing—some linens from the cupboard. They don’t give the slaves anything! And I heard him telling old Poncie what to make for supper and how to serve it and . . .” she fell into a fit of laughter, “. . . and to bring new, scented candles. Oh my, how elegant. She won’t follow us tonight, Ram.”

He didn’t think the thing so funny. “How do you know it’s for her! Maybe a slave—”

“He doesn’t have special supper for slaves,” she said. “You have to admit, he has looked at her. You told me yourself you caught his thought once and. . . .”

“Yes. All right.”

“And she—”

“All right!” He was really angry. “She must have been busy these last three nights. Parading herself.”

“Yes. And he was busy looking.”

They left the plain and began to climb between steep black cliffs, a narrow way that would lead to the heart of the mountain. Ram could feel the sense of the wolves, knew they were waiting.

And he could feel another power well beyond this mountain, somewhere in the sea of wild peaks that spread out into the unknown lands. A power that made him stare off toward those lands, wondering and eager.

*

They had been scrubbing down the sculler and kitchen, Tayba and two old women. The other three had taken sick and, she thought crossly, were probably lying in luxury in their beds listening smugly to the clank of buckets. She was sweating from the hot water. Tendrils of damp hair hung in her face. She had slipped out twice to look for Ram, wanting him and Skeelie both to help, and had found neither. The kitchen smelled of lye soap. They must start supper soon. Where had Ram gotten to? He wouldn’t hide from work. Nor would Skeelie. She couldn’t understand her unease, like a voice whispering. As if she knew something, but did not know it. It is nothing. They are all right. What makes me so edgy? It’s nerves. Stupidity. But when Dlos came with clean rags and she had not seen them either, Tayba began to listen to the voice.