Hiero Desteen: 01 - Hiero's Journey (16 page)

"I'm seventeen, almost eighteen," she said in indignant tones, "and priests aren't supposed to go around with women; at least ours don't. Who ever heard of a married priest?" In a lower voice, she halfway apologized. "I'm sorry, but how was I to know? You never said anything about that new animal. And how did you know he was there, anyway? I heard nothing and I have good ears."

"I accept the apology," the priest said. "And I might as well interrupt your story briefly and spell out a few more things, since we're apparently going to be traveling together for some time,
until I can figure out what to do with you. Does anyone in your country have the ability to speak with his mind? That is, send silent thoughts, so that without using his, or her, voice, another person or perhaps an animal can understand him?"

Luchare drew back, lips parted slightly, her dark brown skin reflecting the firelight in soft, shadowed movements.

"The Unclean, the evil monsters from the days of The Death, are said to do this thing," she said slowly. "And there are many rumors, which I know now to be true, that they are ruled by the most wicked of men, horrible sorcerers, who also have this power. An old church priest who taught me my lessons, a good man, said that such powers of the mind might not themselves be evil in theory, but that in actual practice only the Unclean and their devils seemed to know how to make use of them." Her eyes brightened suddenly, "I see! You knew the animal was out there by thinking to him! But you are not one of the—" Her voice failed as she realized that she might be in the presence of one of the nightmares of her childhood, a wizard of the diabolic enemy!

Hiero smiled cheerfully. "Unclean? No, Luchare, I'm not. And neither is Gorm here."
Gorm, go over slowly, lie down, and put your head in her lap. She has
(never)
seen a bear
(I think?)
or believed
(been taught)
in thought/speech/mind sending. We'll
(have to)
teach her, like a cub.

The slim, dark brown girl sat, frozen, as the small bear ambled over and did as he had been directed. But when a long, pink tongue came out and gently licked her hand, she relaxed a little.

"You—you told him to do that, didn't you?" she said in a shaky voice. "You really can talk to him, just as you do to me?"

"Not as easily, no. But he's very clever; in fact, I'm not sure exactly how clever he is. He's really something almost as new to me as to you, and we've only been together a week. Now Klootz, my bull morse, the big fellow outside, has been my partner for years. I can talk to him easily, but he's nowhere near as clever as Gorm here. Still, he fools me at times too, and just when I think I know the limits of his brain, he tries something brand new and surprises me."

"Gorm," she said softly, stroking the furry, black head. "Will you be my friend, Gorm?"

"He'll be your friend, don't worry," Hiero said. "And he's also a very effective guide and scout. But now please be quiet for a few moments. I want to ask him how he got here. We parted when I went clumping out in the open to pick you up." He leaned forward and concentrated on Gorm's mind.

The bear, it seemed, had drawn back behind the rocky point as soon as he had seen where Klootz was heading. He had tried to make mental contact with the departing priest, but realized that it would be hopeless in all the confusion. He had, however, picked up
other
telepathic minds, not Hiero's, although he could not make out what message they were sending.

I
think that was our enemies
(who were)
trying to get people to hunt/stop/attack us from in
front,
Hiero sent.
How did you/Gorm smell/find
(us)?

Easy/cub/trick,
came the answer.
Went
(back from)
big water, walked along
—
came down to big water
—
smelled
—
went back-swam small water above men's houses
—
came down
(again),
followed and smelled your trail.

By that time, Gorm had come to the hut village of the white savages, most of whom were back from their bird arena and were milling around and all making a fearful racket in the night. He had watched for a while and then, seeing that the villagers had a large pack of yelping dogs, he had quietly swum the little river and gone on east, returning to the beach to pick up Klootz's tracks and then simply following them until he found their present camp.

The priest decided that pursuit that night sounded very unlikely and that they could relax and trust Klootz and the bear to warn them. Settling himself once again, he recommenced questioning Luchare where he had left off.

"The Elevener? Why, he looked like anyone else, an ordinary man of my people, perhaps fifty or so years old, except for those drab, brown clothes. Why?"

"That's very interesting," Hiero said. "In your country, it's obvious, the people are all as dark-skinned as you and have that curly hair and those dark, dark eyes, right?"

"Of course. Why? Until I ran away, I never saw anyone of another color, except once or twice a white-skinned slave from the North, from around here, I guess. But the few Eleveners I've seen have all been of my own people."

"Well," the man said thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on the tiny fire, "up
my
way, they all look like
my
people, that is, with bronze or the Inyan reddish skin, straight black hair, high cheekbones, and so on. Which, I think, tells us something interesting about the Eleveners that the Abbeys hadn't known before. Now, before you go on with your own story, tell me one more thing about them. In our areas, they carry no weapons, teach children in school, serve as animal doctors, work on farms, eat no meat, and never take any pay, except mere subsistence. Also, they hate the Unclean, but never seem to do much about fighting them. Is all that true down in D'alwah?"

"Yes, I think so," she said. "The church doesn't care much for them, but the poor people get very angry when there's any talk of bothering them, so they're generally let alone. You see," she added naively, "the peasants have so much to get angry about as it is, why stir them up over something that makes no real difference? That's what my—a teacher I knew told me. They don't really mean anything one way or the other, just like the Davids."

"Who are the Davids?" Hiero asked.

"Oh, a funny group of traders who call themselves People of David, who live in our big city and in some of the others, I guess. They actually don't believe in the church, they won't eat lots of ordinary things, and they don't marry anyone but another David. But no one bothers them either, because they pay their taxes promptly and always trade honestly. Also, they can fight like wildcats
if anyone tries to molest either them or their church. They have a funny one with no cross and no Dead God at all, and at school once, one of them told me it's much older than ours! They're really peculiar!"

"Humph," Hiero grunted, thinking,
at school, eh?
and trying to assimilate all he had learned. "Must be an odd heresy of some ancient kind we never got up our way. The last one in Kanda, a group called Prostan, I believe, reunited with our church over two thousand years ago. Since then, it's all been one Church Universal. You certainly have a lot of strange survivals in the far South. But go on with your own story now, and I'll try not to interrupt."

He fed the wee fire to provide a light, and as the faintest haze of smoke rose to the highest level of shiny leaves under the round dome of the tent-tree, the girl talked on, her matter-of-fact tones seeming to emphasize her extraordinary story. Hiero had lived through many strange adventures, including the most recent ones, but he was spellbound just the same. The bear lay dozing, head in her lap.

The Elevener, a quiet, elderly man, had set Luchare's leg and helped carry her to a shelter. He had then gone away, but soon had come back with a large draft animal, something like Klootz, apparently, but striped and light in color, with short, straight horns, which stayed on all year, unlike antlers. It was commonly called a kaw. Both of them had ridden the kaw away on a trail to the northwest. The Elevener, whose name was Jone, had told the girl that he was going to try and take her to a place of safety run by his order, but that it was a long way off and that they would have to be very careful. He had asked no questions of her at all.

They had traveled for many days through the great, tropical forest, avoiding the main roads between the warring city-states, but using game trails and village paths where they could. The peasants and woodsmen were always glad to see them, gave them food and shelter, and warned them of migrating herds, rumored appearances of Leemutes, and other signs of the Unclean. In return, Jone had helped the village sick, sat with the dying, and distributed sets of little carved wooden letters he had made, so that the children could learn to read and write. This idea, Luchare interjected, was one of the tricks that really annoyed her church about the Eleveners, since the priests did not believe, and still less did the nobles, in giving the peasants new ideas.

"Some of my own church don't like them any better," Hiero admitted, "though everyone can read and write in our country. But conservatives dislike them as a rival religious group. I guess they are in a way, but if we're not doing the job properly, then they
should
take over, as better men, that's what my abbot says. But go on."

After some three weeks of traveling, in a generally western direction, tragedy struck. They were now far beyond the limits of any of the city-states and their appendaged villages. Jone had told her that another week or so would bring them to a place of safety.

Actually, she had never felt more safe than with the gentle Elevener. Dangerous animals almost never came near them, and if they did, snorted for a moment and then went away. Once, she said, a herd of giant snakeheads, the lords of the forest, had simply parted to one side while the patient kaw had carried his twin burden down a lane in the middle of the huge beasts. Jone simply
had smiled when she expressed awe.

Hiero thought to himself that the Eleveners must long have been in control of mental powers he now felt burgeoning in himself, though his were drawn out by the two savage battles he had fought with his mind. And the broad extent of their society, in physical terms, was also news of the first magnitude. He listened intently.

They had been ambling down a game trail in the jungle, Luchare said, no different from a dozen others they had seen and exactly where, she had no faint idea, when suddenly a man had stepped into the trail ahead of them and stood with his arms folded, facing them. At the same time, a score of hideous, hair-covered Leemutes, things like enormous, upright rats, naked tails and all, but far more intelligent and armed with spears and clubs, had come from the jungle on both sides of the trail.
(Man-rats,
Hiero said to himself.) They were totally surrounded, though none had come closer than a few feet.

Luchare had been terrified, but Jone's gentle face had not lost its impassivity. The man in front of them was ivory-skinned, totally hairless, and wore a gray robe and hood, the latter thrown back. His pale eyes had been cold and evil beyond description. She knew that a master wizard of the Unclean held them fast and she tried not to panic. There was a moment of silence, during which she had simply shut her eyes and hugged Jone around the waist. Then she heard his calm voice speaking in D'alwah.

"Let us speak aloud. There is no need to frighten the child. I offer a bargain."

"What bargain, Nature-lover, Tree-worshipper? I grip you both tight in my hand."

"True enough, o Dweller in the Dark. But I can slay many of your allies, and even you yourself could be injured, or at least drained of power for days by the struggle. I am an Ascended One, as I think you are well aware. This trap was set with some care, and in an unlikely place."

Trembling, Luchare had heard the enemy's harsh voice ask again what bargain was proposed.

"Let the child and the animal go. If so, on my word and soul I will make no resistance to you and will submit myself to your wishes. Speak quickly, or I will force you to kill us at once, and it will not be an easy struggle."

"So be it, Tree-man. One of your rank, even in your weakling order, is a rare captive in all truth, since usually you skulk in safety in holes and corners. Let the child and the beast go, then, and come with us."

"In all your thoughts and deeds there are lies," was Jone's calm answer. "I will send her away, unfollowed by any of your dirty pack, and I can easily tell if that is so. I will remain here for an hour, and after that time has passed, will go with you. That is the unalterable bargain."

Luchare could almost feel the terrible rage of the Unclean adept, but in the end, as Jone
apparently had known he would, he agreed.

Blessing her gently in an unknown tongue, the Elevener had also spoken to the kaw, and the creature had at once moved rapidly away down the trail, now carrying her alone on its saddle. Her last sight of her friend had been of the slim, brown-clad figure standing patiently, facing the gray devil and his horrid crew of attendant monsters. Then a curve of the jungle wall of green had hid them all from sight. At the remembrance of how Jone had saved her, Hiero could see that Luchare was close to tears.