Spell of the Crystal Chair (11 page)

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Authors: Gilbert L. Morris

BOOK: Spell of the Crystal Chair
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Beorn suddenly reached over and took the leather thong from the guard. “Take a break, Gaylon,” he said. “I’ll guard the prisoner. You go, too, Deur.”

“No. I am commanded by your father to always watch the prisoner.”

Fairmina suspected that Deur was a fanatical warrior who would never disobey a direct order from the chief.

Beorn shrugged. “Very well, but I don’t see any need for a noose around our captive’s neck. She can’t outrun an arrow.”

“It was your father’s order.”

“Well, I can’t countermand my father’s orders.” Beorn turned to Fairmina. “Come. I know you need exercise.”

“I do. I get cramped.” It was more than she had intended to say, and she immediately regretted the words.

“I know how that is. Would you like to run a little bit?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed.

Beorn grinned and then winked at her. “Very well. We will run.” Glancing back at the archer, he said, “Follow us, Deur. Don’t get too far behind.”

“I will not be out of arrow range! You can believe that.”

“Come along, Princess.”

“You call me that? I am your captive.”

“But you are the daughter of Chief Denhelm. That makes you a princess.”

Fairmina did not reply but began running lightly along the path. The noose was still about her neck, but
the chief’s son held it loosely. He kept pace with her and had a smooth, swift, even gait. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw that Deur, who was short and stubby-legged, was having a difficult time. And a thought came to her.
If we get far enough ahead, I could snatch the dagger out of this one’s sheath, cut his throat, and then dart into the trees. That lumbering archer could never catch me. If he missed his first arrow, I would be free
.

“I wouldn’t even think of it if I were you.”

She startled. “Think of what?”

“Snatching my dagger, killing me, and then making a run for it.”

He grinned, looking very handsome with his teeth white against his dark skin. “Because it’s what I would have thought of if I were you. It would be the best chance you would have for escape.”

Fairmina was chagrined at having her plan laid bare so quickly. She did not answer but kept up an even stride. Then she said, “The archer may get impatient if we get too far ahead. He may shoot me anyway and say I was trying to escape.”

“Then let’s go the other way.”

The two whirled and jogged back toward the archer.

Deur scowled and said, “Stop that running!”

“You don’t give orders to the son of the chief, Deur. You just attend to your business.”

They sailed by the infuriated archer, and he lumbered after them. Fairmina knew it would be hard for him to keep an arrow notched on the string.

“A little excitement is a good thing. For over two weeks I was once the prisoner of a tribe we were at war with.”

“My people?”

“No. Another tribe, farther north. A long time ago. I nearly went crazy locked up in a cell about like the one you’re in.”

It was an interesting side of Beorn’s character, and Fairmina found herself interested in the young man. “You probably won’t tell me, but how did you ever get the ice wraiths to let you harness them and accept riders?”

“I would tell you if I could, but I cannot. I do not understand it myself.”

“It has something to do with Zarkof, I venture.”

He gave her a surprised look. “I’m sure it has something to do with Zarkof,” he said. “When he brought us the ice wraiths, they were already harnessed. He’d put some kind of spell on them. Either he or the Dark Lord. In any case, the scheme didn’t work too well, did it?”

“No. Three of the Seven Sleepers charged in and shot the riders.”

“I saw it. They were very brave. Who are the ‘Seven Sleepers’?”

“They are the servants of Goél.”

“My grandfather believes in Goél.”

This caught Fairmina totally by surprise. “He does!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it!”

“How can you not believe it?”

“Because Goél is kind and is for peace.”

“So is my grandfather Magon. He was a famous warrior in his time. Now he is old, but he still talks about Goél. He met him twice when he was a young man. He told me recently that he wished he had kept up the acquaintance. That he feels the Yanti would have been stronger if they would have gone the way of Goél.”

“The Dark Lord and Goél are engaged in a struggle
for the world. I understand that much. That makes us enemies.”

Beorn jogged silently by her side for a time. Then he said, “I wish we were not enemies. I wish this stupid war had never happened. I’ve hated it ever since I first knew about it as a child.”

“Why, so have I!” Fairmina exclaimed.

Then Deur shouted, “Slower, or I’ll put an arrow in her!” and she slowed her pace. Glancing back, she saw that indeed Deur had his bow drawn. “I suppose he would do it.”

“He probably would,” Beorn said. “Here. Let me get behind you. He wouldn’t put an arrow through me.”

“Aren’t you afraid that I will get away?”

“I wish you were away,” he said. “You have no business here.”

“What do they plan to do with me?”

He hesitated.

Perhaps he did not wish to tell her the truth. Perhaps some had already suggested executing her. Perhaps she would be given as a slave to the Dark Lord.

She heard him clear his throat. “I do not want to see anything happen to you, Princess. I do not make war on women.”

“I am a warrior of the Lowami,” she said over her shoulder. “I take my chances in war like any of the men.”

But the chief’s son said, “I know you are an excellent warrior, and I understand that you have learned the art of war from your father. Nevertheless, to fight against women goes against all I believe in.”

Somehow this saying both disturbed and pleased Fairmina. She had spent much of her life trying to earn her place in a world ruled by men. She thought she had worked harder at being a good warrior than anyone
else, and she valued her place at her father’s side when the battle trumpets sounded. Still, as the tall young man behind her spoke so gently, his words gave her a warm feeling.

“You have a gentle spirit. I am surprised.”

“What did you expect? That all Yantis are wild beasts?”

Suddenly Fairmina laughed. “Of course. I always thought of you as wild beasts. Isn’t that the way you think of the Lowami?”

“I’m afraid so. I listened to some of the tales of the older warriors, and they make you sound vicious indeed.”

“I think we both have listened to those old tales a great deal. Too much, perhaps.”

Now the two began walking, side by side, slowly, with the scowling Deur just behind them. “He would like to put an arrow in me,” she said.

“He hates all Lowami. As a matter of fact, I think he hates most everybody. He’s loyal only to my father. He’s a good archer, though, so I do warn you, Princess—don’t ever try to outrun one of his shafts. He can pin a fly to a tree from a hundred paces.”

“I would like to shoot against him sometime.”

“I’m sure my father wouldn’t permit that. Think what it would mean if a woman beat his best archer.”

“It would give him a little humility, perhaps. I’m sure he needs it.”

“I think, perhaps, he does. But then, don’t we all? I think I see a little pride in you, Princess.”

“Pride is not a bad thing. It is good.”

“That depends,” Beorn said. “It can eat away at a man—or a woman—and destroy them. Humility is better, or so my grandfather says.”

They walked on, talking. Suddenly Beorn said, “You didn’t eat yesterday.”

“No. Your father forbade it.”

“Well, he gave no command for today. So before he has a chance to do so, come along.”

“I will not eat.”

“Surely you will not refuse to join me. That would be discourteous.”

Actually Fairmina was starving. Besides, the cold weather drained the energy out of a person quickly, and she knew that she had to keep up her strength if she was going to survive.

“We’ll go to my home. My mother always has something bubbling over the fire.”

“I don’t want to meet your father.”

“He won’t be there. He’s gone on a hunt. Just my mother. Come along, Deur. We’re going to my house.”

“Your father said nothing about that.”

“Take it up with him when he comes back. Let’s go, Princess. I’m hungry myself.”

Fairmina walked alongside him. The rope hung loosely around her neck, and he held the other end loosely in his hand. It was only a formality, she knew. He had shown great courtesy.

“This is our house. Come inside,” Beorn said. “Deur, wait here at the door.”

“I am not to let her out of my sight.”

“Don’t be a fool, Deur! There’s only one door. She’s visiting my
mother.”

The archer scowled, but he did not argue further.

As soon as she entered the chief’s house, Beorn said, “Mother, you know this is Princess Fairmina. This is my mother, Olah.”

“I am glad to see you, my daughter,” Olah said
kindly. “I remember our people well. I was only fourteen when I was captured, but I knew your father and your mother. They were very good to me.”

Fairmina was almost speechless before the quiet grace of this woman. She bowed slightly, saying, “My mother has spoken of you often.”

“We were friends. We were the same age, you know. I would give anything to see her again.”

“Perhaps that may come,” Fairmina said.

A shadow crossed the eyes of the woman, and she said, “I pray that it will be so.”

“Mother, she hasn’t had anything to eat. Can you prepare us something?”

“Of course. You two sit and talk. I have some fresh stew, and I baked bread. Sit down.”

When the food was put before Fairmina, the other two joined her at the table. She had to restrain herself from gulping down the stew. But she forced herself to eat slowly. “This is very good!” she exclaimed.

“My mother’s the best cook in the world.” Beorn took his mother’s hand and kissed it. It was a gesture that caught Fairmina’s eye. She remembered that her own mother had once said, “Watch how a man treats his mother before you marry him. He will treat you the same way.” The act pleased her.

That meal changed Princess Fairmina’s mind about the Yanti tribe.
If these two are gentle, as I see they are, then there must be others as well
.

After Beorn had eaten, he said, “I will leave the princess with you, if you don’t mind, Mother. I have some work to do, but this house will be much better for her than that little hut.”

“Of course!”

“Father may not like it.”

“I will explain it to him.”

Beorn grinned and winked at Fairmina. “That means she’ll tell him how to think. She does that with father and me both. I’ll be back later.”

It was a pleasant day for Fairmina. She helped her hostess sew clothing out of soft reindeer skin. She helped her prepare some food. All in all, she felt a peace that she had not felt since she had been captured.

Outside, Beorn went about his work, but during the course of the day he heard a man repeating a tale to another. It seemed he had once been enslaved by Zarkof but had escaped.

“Nobody will ever get in. There’s a monster guarding it. A big spiderlike thing.”

His companion was listening with avid curiosity. “What’s he guarding in there?”

Beorn leaned forward to catch the answer.

“He’s got a magic chair down under the castle. I don’t understand it, but I heard two of his lieutenants talking. He gets all his power from that chair, and it’s guarded by that big spider.”

Just as I suspected. Power lies in that crystal chair
, Beorn thought. He had thought of little else since making that visit with his father to the white fortress. He remembered the glowing chair and how it had put its glow into the wizard’s body.

Later in the day, he returned home and found his mother and the princess laughing together.

The princess stood as soon as he came in. “I suppose it’s time for me to go back to my cell.”

“I think it might be better if you were there when my father returns,” he said with some embarrassment.

“I’ll have you here for another visit.” Olah smiled. Then she kissed the girl. “Don’t worry, my dear. It will turn out well.”

He and the princess walked back toward Fairmina’s prison as Deur walked behind, still scowling and fingering his arrow.

Fairmina said, “Your mother’s a very lovely woman.”

“The loveliest I’ve ever known.”

“What a nice thing to say!”

“It’s true enough.”

As they waited for the guard to open her cell, Fairmina turned and smiled. She whispered, “Thank you for a lovely day. It was very kind of you.”

“I wish I could do more.”

She hesitated, then leaned forward and spoke so quietly that the guards could not hear. “Beware of the Dark Lord. I know about him, Beorn. He will be a hard master. You are in danger of being enslaved as much as I am right now.”

She went inside then, and the guard slammed the door and fastened the padlock.

Beorn turned away, but he couldn’t forget the girl’s words.
You are in danger of being enslaved
. It was a thought that sent fear through him, for he loved his freedom. He went to see his grandfather.

Magon listened quietly as Beorn spoke of the princess. “She is a beautiful young woman and very brave,” his grandfather said finally. “I wish she were back with her people.”

Beorn glanced quickly at his grandfather. “Maybe we could persuade father to let her go.”

“I think not. He’s a stubborn man, and he will never admit he’s wrong.”

Beorn sat quietly, looking glumly at the floor. “This war’s a bad thing.”

“It always has been. War is never pleasant.”

11
A Rebellious Son

Z
arkof, as always, had his fears as he entered the underground caverns. He knew that the medallion he had been given by the Dark Lord had always stopped the monster spider in her tracks. Still, Shivea was a frightening creature, and a cold sweat broke out on the wizard’s brow. He wiped it away, muttering, “What if sometime the spell doesn’t work?” A shiver went over him, and he thought of those poison-dripping fangs. It was more than he cared to think of, and he hurried on.

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