Nor Iron Bars A Cage (28 page)

When we emerged from the door of the tower into the early morning, I felt Xan’s pleasure and a touch of surprise.
-I didn’t think I’d ever see the sun again.

-It’s not up yet.

-Soon though.
He noticed the waiting horses, and added,
-Fine beasts, those. Although they’d not last an hour on our steep mountain tracks.

-Hopefully they won’t have to.

-We’ll have to reach the high hills though.

I tried not to react with satisfaction to that hint, but Xan said,
-I cannot guide you.

-Can’t or won’t?

-Both. For so long I’ve been made of unyielding hate, and though you’re not the townsfolk who stoned my son, if I gave aid to you, beyond what you’ve already forced, it would be the end of me, I think.

-You’ll end at tomorrow’s sunrise anyway.
I hoped it would be to move on to something better, but could offer no assurance of that.
-End this existence, anyway.

-So says the mage. Do you trust his word?

I felt ill, but said,
-I have to. And he wouldn’t lie about this to his chief.

-Perhaps. Maybe tomorrow then, before the sun comes up, I’ll be able to say more.

The captain held Cricket’s reins as I mounted. Then instead of passing them to me, he swung up on his own horse and took me in tow. Tobin spurred Dark over close. “What are you doing?”

“Being careful.” The captain barely glanced at him.

King Faro said, “It makes sense, Tobin. You wouldn’t want the ghost to ride off with Lyon, would you?”

I glanced over at the archers waiting to follow us, and said vehemently, “If you see that happening, just shoot me.”

Tobin muttered to the captain, “Keep the damned reins then.” He added to me, under his breath, “If you ask anyone else to kill you, I’ll knock you out, tie you up, and stuff you in the garderobe until tomorrow.”

King Faro, riding up on my other side, overheard him and laughed. He turned to me. “Do you have any suggestion that would change the direction we ride out?”

“Up into the hills somewhere?” I didn’t have much to offer.

“Bridal Veil first then. It’s well up there. We’ll work our way back over toward the Snake.”

The morning gradually brightened as we rode. Xan was mainly silent, although he asked the occasional simple question, like how long Faro had been ruler, or what our horse was called. I thought about not answering, of giving him silence for silence. But I decided to try for goodwill instead.

We came into the valley of the Bridal River less than an hour after the sun cleared the peaks. The higher we climbed, the sharper Xan’s attention became. With his thoughts in mine, I noticed the tang of pine trees and the slight bitterness in the wind.
-Storm coming, with snow down to the foothills. Two days off. Maybe less.

I hoped fervently we’d be done before then. I’d felt so cold for so long that snow held no appeal.

The waterfall was worth seeing though. From a ribbon of glacier-blue stream, high on the mountainside, it fell a hundred yards to a rock shelf, and then fanned out in the lacy wide spray that gave the place its name. The moving water was hypnotic and I stared at it until I realized Xan was saying for the fourth time,
-Look up.

I tracked higher, up towards the peaks of the mountains, still heavily clothed in snow. The rounded sides of Sugarloaf were frosted evenly white, but the steep flanks of the Fang showed runnels of darker snow and stretches of bare rock. I could feel Xan’s heart leap at the sight of the peaks.

-What are the grey stripes on the Fang from?
I asked.

-The Fang?

-That sharp peak, the pointy one.

-Ah, the God’s Knife. Those are avalanches. The snow lets go and races down the slope, carrying all with it. The color comes from the broken surface, and the rocks and trees tumbled along by the snow.

I couldn’t picture it. Snow lay flat on fields in my experience. When Xan talked about avalanches he sounded like a man discussing army-wagon racing, excitement and alarm mixed.

Xan said meditatively,
-This is… worth all the pain of the summoning. Just this, to see those mountains again and to know that my people, if not my clan, are up there still. You’d better hope that mage of yours knows his stuff. I’m not sure I could give this up of my own choice.

That sucked all the air out of my lungs. I grabbed the pommel of my saddle, and bent forward trying to draw breath. Tobin said, “What’s wrong.”

“Get him out! I want it out of me!” I grabbed at my head, pulling my hair in some ridiculous attempt to empty my brain. My bad hand fumbled uselessly at my temple, while my left yanked my head sideways, wrenching my neck.

Tobin grabbed my wrists. “What? Did something happen?”

-
BE CALM
. Xan’s voice was loud enough in my brain to cut through the panic.
-Stop hurting yourself. I only spoke my thought aloud. I have no control here. In the morning I will be gone.

-Unless you can prevent it!

-Your mage was strong enough to pull me in across all those years, and stuff me into your hard head. I imagine he’s strong enough to get me out again. Him and his cronies.

I looked behind me. Secondmage and Thirdmage rode ten feet back, abreast on matched greys. Firstmage had remained in the tower, to guard and maintain the working itself. But neither of the other two looked worried in the least.

Tobin shook me lightly. “Lyon. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I just… panicked for a minute. I’m fine.”

He kneed Dark to stay close and didn’t let go. “You’re sure.”

“Certain. I think. Unless I’m wrong.”

That got a faint smile. “Now that sounds like you.” He let my wrists go, but stayed beside me. “Be sure though.”

King Faro reined back to join us. “News?”

“Sorry, Sire.” I quickly asked Xan,
-What do you call this place in the old tongue?

-Kielbeasu. Widewaters.

-Not Beasumblean then.

He said nothing. I told the king, “I don’t think it’s here. This place has a different name.”

The king nodded. “We’ll leave scouts here, then, and move south.”

We turned and rode up a steep hillside with the peaks on our left. The air was still quite cool, and the sun low enough that most of the ground was in shade. The trees were only scrubby evergreens, but in the depths beneath their boughs, I saw glimpses of snow. Despite the jacket I’d been given, I shivered.

-Flatlander.
Xan’s voice was almost teasing.
-This is like a summer’s day up in my mountains.

I was just as glad not to be climbing higher then. I didn’t say so. Xan’s mood brightened with every glimpse of those bright peaks. I kept my eyes on them for his sake, and let the captain lead Cricket onward.

An hour later, after a rough scrambling ride that the king and Tobin seemed to relish far more than I, we reached the next stream. This one fell in tumbling rivulets down the rock face, dividing again and again into narrow threads of water. The advance men waved to us, and we moved down from the ridge to the gully where the waters rejoined into a sizable stream. The king reined in and turned to me. “How about here? When you said, ‘between the waters’ I thought of this place. The water divides again and again around the rocks, and one of those openings could be far deeper than it looks. A cave surrounded by water could be that
Bausumblin
thing, right?”

“Perhaps.” I looked around, forcing Xan to do the same. His interest was sharp, but tinged by a hint of unfamiliarity.

-Is this the place? Beasumblean?

-In my day this was a dry hillside.
Xan seemed exasperated.
-Look up, witchman. I want to see where the water comes from.

I complied slowly. His interest was caught by the cliff face above us, and the tumble of rock at its foot.
-It looks like there was a major rock fall here. Not recently, the tracks of the water are already worn deep. After my time though. Perhaps that diverted the stream.

“I don’t think this is it,” I told King Faro. “If he’s still constrained to tell the truth, then it’s not familiar to him.”

“The terrain might indeed have changed over the years,” the king said slowly. “Which could make this a useless exercise. No other part of the hills have more caves than here. Have him look again.”

“He says there was no water here back then.”

“Ah. Well then, onward.” The king wheeled his horse on its haunches and waved the advance guard forward. The captain, Tobin and I splashed across the wide stream in his wake, and headed up the next ridge. The sun was rising and taking some of the chill from the air. If you could ignore the troop of cavalry and archers riding behind us, this might have been a pleasure-outing.

Xan said,
-Tell me about your chief. Is he a good man?

-Tobin likes him. I don’t know him well.

-And his nemesis. The one who may come through these mountains? What of him?

I shrugged irritably.
-What do you want me to do? Plead our case again? The
Prince Regent
of the R’gin is a devil of a man, evil in every way, who breathes fire and eats small children for breakfast.

-Don’t play the fool. What do you know of him?

-In truth? Not much. It’s said he killed his elder brother who was ruler of their land, to become guardian for his small son and take command in his place. And that he now looks for foreign wars to distract his people from his crime. But our side is capable of misinformation large and small. It could all be lies. All I really know is that the R’gin have invaded before, and that they aren’t kind to those whom they conquer. This is my home and I don’t want to see it in their hands. And that would be true even if they were the kindest overlords the world has known.

-We tribes of the mountains aren’t fond of overlords,
Xan said slowly.

We climbed another ridge, and the steep, slippery rocks forced me to pay attention to my riding. At first, when my head ached, I thought it was from the jerking motion of Cricket’s hooves on the rolling gravel. But the next pain was sharp and sudden. I cried out and grabbed the saddle. And then I was falling. The captain and Tobin both grabbed for me, and the captain got a hand on my knee as I slid over the side, enough to at least slow my fall. I landed on the rocks in a ball, arms wrapped around my head.

Tobin leaped down from Dark, and half-fell on his knees beside me. I heard other shouting. Something about mages. The sound rang in echoes through my head. Tobin lifted me against his lap. “What’s wrong!”

Faintly through the noise I heard Xan say,
-M’blean means “through”.
And then his presence in my head faded.

The king loomed over me. “Both my sorcerers are unconscious. What happened?”

I managed to rasp, “Don’t know.” I felt lightheaded, but it seemed to be easing now, not worsening. “If I had to guess, I think something happened to the working.” We’d all four of us been tied into that piece of sorcery. It had hung there in the back of my awareness since we set it in motion. Now it was gone.

The king grabbed my arm roughly. “And Xan?”

I yanked free of his hold, trying to get away but managing no more than a feeble scrabble of my heels against the ground, as I rolled off Tobin’s knees. “Don’t touch me!” Tobin aborted his own reach for me, but stayed kneeling at my side. I curled up tighter, breathing through my nose, quelling my panic.

The king glared, but stepped back. “The ghost?”

“Gone, I think.” I tried to feel for him. But there was no human sense for that, no eyes I could open to look around inside my head. I didn’t feel his presence as I had for hours, but how could I be sure? I said,
-Chief Xan? Are you there? Can you still speak?

Silence answered me. But if the summoning-working was gone then so was his compulsion to talk to me. Which didn’t mean he was out of my head. I tried not to think of that, but a decade of nightmares hovered. I pressed my forearms to my skull. “He’s gone. I think he’s gone.”

“Gods and goddess damn it!” The king straightened. “Now what? Hoy, medic? How are the sorcerers?”

“Coming around, Sire.”

Tobin put an arm under me, moving slowly. When I didn’t reject his touch, his frown eased. “Can you stand, Lyon? I’d like to get you off this damned slope.”

“I’ll try.” I struggled to my feet, and with his help started back down the escarpment. Below me, men were helping the King’s Mages do the same. We made it to the meadow at the foot of the slope and stopped on the more level ground there. The captain had brought our horses down with him and he hovered nearby, the three sets of reins in his left hand to keep his sword hand free. He stared at me with a wealth of suspicion. I tried to give him an evil look, but it probably came out just painful. My knees were still weak and Tobin was my rock. But I was tired of leaning on the poor man all the time. I tried to stand straighter.

Secondmage said hoarsely, “The working collapsed. I’m very worried about Firstmage. The rebound will have hit him even harder than the rest of us.”

“He, at least, is safely in the tower,” the king said. “The question is, what now? Is it worth continuing as we have been, or do we just go to the back-up plan and array watchers all along this stretch and wait for a sighting?”

I realized they were all looking at me. Saying, “How would I know?” was probably not going to be popular. I tried to think about it. A recollection of Xan’s voice lingered somewhere in my head, although whether it was just memory or some continued presence I couldn’t tell. I finally said, “I think we should go on. I don’t sense him anymore. I don’t hear him in my head. But still, I think there’s a chance I might recognize something or feel something. I don’t see how it can hurt to try.”

“Can you ride?” the king asked.

“I think so.”

Secondmage said, “With your permission, Sire, I think my colleague and I should ride back to the tower. With the working broken, we’re of little use to you or to Sorcerer Lyon out here. If Firstmage has been injured we can at least help him, and perhaps investigate the working and see what went wrong.”