The Creatures of Man (38 page)

"Better you spend it for cloth to cover your slut's nakedness, and her hardly more than a child!" the woman sniffed.

"One cannot make a cat eat onions, good woman," Basdon replied. He flipped the coin up again, and watched it glitter in the sunlight.

"Humpf! Well, stay where you are, and I'll see what I can find."

"Many thanks, good woman." He heard the dim sounds of the woman moving away from the window and rummaging around in the back of the house. He turned and winked at Jonker, then smiled up at Eanna, who was still on her mare and looking grumpy. He guessed she had caught some meaning from the peasant woman's insults. Surely she had heard the term "slut" before.

He felt a wave of anger at the woman for her self-righteous condemnation of a girl who was obviously an innocent child. What could have prompted such . . . ?

He paused in mid-thought and looked at Eanna again.

It dawned on him that she
did
look like a slut. An eleven-year-old one, to be sure, but what was left of her baby-fat—and there was more than a plenty of it—gave her a precociously sexed look that was affirmed by her sullen pout and the dirtiness of her straw-colored hair.

"No, Basdon," murmured Jonker softly.

The swordsman started, and looked at the magician. For a moment he was half-puzzled, then he realized that the magician had read his lust before it had fully reached his own consciousness. "Oh, well, of course not," he whispered back. "After all, she's still a child."

"A child with a bigger responsibility thrust upon her than many adults will ever face." said Jonker. "Let's add nothing to the unavoidable problems she has ahead of her."

Basdon nodded.

Shortly the peasant woman returned to the window, this time leaning into the light enough for her pinched, hard face to be seen. After ten minutes of stiff bargaining, Basdon obtained the needed supplies and paid her the gold coin.

When the travelers were on their way once more, Jonker remarked, "We could have paid her more amply."

"And aroused her suspicions," grunted the swordsman. "Trading among worshippers is not the easygoing matter it is in Nenkunal. Here, the traders cheat for the smallest grain of advantage."

Jonker sighed. "Well, if it must be done that way, so be it. In which case I congratulate you for besting the woman quite thoroughly."

"So I did, but she doesn't think so. Gold is highly valued here, although that coin I paid her will probably find its way into the nearest temple of Vishan without doing her or her family any material benefit."

They stopped for the night early, partly because the girl was whining for supper but more because they were nearing a town through which the trail of Haslil would lead them. Basdon had doubts about attempting to pass through a sizable habitation with the magician and the girl, and wanted to ride ahead to scout the situation.

"In any instance," he explained to Jonker, "there will be a small god-warrior garrison there, along with the usual priests and inquisitors. The three of us, with our horses, would be sure to arouse curiosity passing through. Alone, however, I would merely be another warrior going through on leave. What I intend to do is pass completely through the town, following the road Eanna has described to me. Then I'll explore a way back that circles the town, and which we can take in safety tomorrow morning."

Jonker frowned. "I suppose the risk is necessary," he agreed grudgingly. "The girl and I will keep safely enough here, well off the road and concealed as our camp is. But if by chance you should be taken by the garrison we would all be in sore straits. And worse, so would our mission."

"I'll take care," Basdon assured him. He remounted and returned to the road.

As he made his way toward the town he paused wherever his view was unobstructed to left or right to study the landscape, in search of trails that might be useful in bypassing the populated area. Farms were scattered in fair number, and paths were not hard to find. The only problem he anticipated would be in bringing the magician and girl out, on the far side of town, at a point Eanna would recognize. She was complaining frequently about changes in the appearance of things since her grandmother had journeyed this way.

And her own changing appearance was posing problems, too, he thought wryly. So far, no harm had been done. In fact, the disreputable look of the girl in her underclothed condition might usefully keep the locals, who would otherwise be nosey, at a distance.

But when those baby dresses crept up another six inches . . . well, the scandal would rock the whole region. Something would have to be done, and soon, about Eanna's apparel.

He reached the town, and found it little different from dozens of others he had known. The people went about their business in dedicated apathy, faithful to their carnate god Vishan and obedient to the rule of the god-warrior garrison. The few god-warriors Basdon saw and saluted as he rode along looked softened by garrison life. None bothered to challenge him.

He stopped at a pub for a cup of wine, and inquired of the keeper the whereabouts of a seamstress shop. He moved on to the shop, purchased a dress for his "ladylove" as he explained it, then rode on beyond the town.

Once in open farmland again, he turned off to the left and began circling back to camp, turning frequently in his saddle to memorize the aspects of the path as it would appear on the morrow. Night was darkening when he reached the road he had taken into town.

Jonker greeted him with relief. "I had no premonition of trouble," he said, "but in this land I'm not sure the senses of The Art can be trusted."

"There were no problems," the swordsman replied, passing the bundled dress to the girl. "Also, I brought a present for Eanna."

She unfolded it and held it up. It was, by intention, too long for her. "You will fit that size in a couple of days," Basdon said.

The girl was beaming. She hugged the garment to her chest and murmured, "It's pretty."

"Didn't you risk rousing suspicion, buying a dress?" Jonker asked uneasily.

"No. God-warriors do buy such things. I merely told the woman in the shop it was for my lady-love, and no questions were asked."

"But I'm not your lady-love!" flared Eanna in a tone of horror. Basdon, irked by her sudden ingratitude, was about to tell her how thoroughly right she was when Jonker silenced him with a demanding gesture.

"Whether you are his lady-love or not," the magician said gently to the girl, "that was what he needed to say to the shop woman to satisfy her curiosity."

"Well, I'm not," she replied, somewhat mollified. Basdon watched her flounce away to her tent with annoyed puzzlement.

"What was that about?" he asked, going to the fire and picking up a chunk of roast mutton.

"You were about to deny loving her," said the magician. "That would have wounded her deeply."

"I don't see why," the swordsman growled. "She had just denied loving me."

The magician said slowly, "As an afflicted eleven-year-old, she can't accept herself as a 'lady-love' right now. But if you had denied her, she would remember your words very clearly three or four days hence, when her own feelings might be completely different."

Basdon grunted. "I doubt that. She's the type who'll think her body's too pure to be touched by a lover."

"Maybe so. You know the results of the universal geas with more experience than I. For example, I don't know why it is usual for god-warriors to buy garments for their women. Wouldn't the women prefer to receive gold with which to buy clothing that pleases them?"

"They might prefer that, but it isn't done. Only women who are very degraded, and use sex for their livelihood, accept coins. Respectable girls give themselves in return for presents, if they give themselves at all."

Jonker gazed thoughtfully at the fire while Basdon munched his supper. At last the magician sighed, "The earth has entered a peculiar new age, indeed."

In the days that followed they made steady progress along the route of Haslil through regions now inhabited by worshippers. While they made no effort to conceal themselves—a sure way to rouse suspicions—neither did they make themselves too evident. All towns were first scouted by Basdon, then by-passed. The nights were spent in the open, even on those few occasions when a wayside inn was available.

Meanwhile, Eanna lengthened, slimmed, and blossomed into a beauty beyond Basdon's wildest desires. The memory of the unattainable Belissa bothered him no more, because beside him rode a girl whose dewy freshness more than equaled the total of Belissa's charms.

The trouble was that Eanna also more than equaled Belissa in unattainability.

The swordsman rode on in mingled dejection and grim determination, seldom looking at the young woman who was all too inclined to draw back as if his slightest glance were a brutal assault on her chastity.

Jonker sympathized with his plight, but was of no help. The afflictions of the geas were beyond the powers of his magic. He could only urge Basdon to conduct himself in a manner that would not upset the girl and endanger the mission. And he could only suggest that, while passing through some town, the swordsman might take time for dalliance with some willing female.

Earlier in the journey Basdon might have taken the suggestion, but now he was too obsessed with Eanna to wish for any substitute.

"I will take time for nothing," he replied angrily. "We should reach Oliber tomorrow. Then I will see the two of you safely back to the Hif Hills. Thus, in a matter of thirteen days from now, I will escape the girl's presence and thrust her from my mind."

Jonker shook his head sadly. "You fail to reckon on the days we may spend searching the ruins of Oliber for the talismans. But bear with us, Basdon. Long before you part company with the maiden, your lust will have turned to pity, or perhaps to disgust."

"The pity I feel now, because I can see that she is as unhappy in her affliction as I. But disgust . . ." Basdon shook his head. "Never. Would that it were true."

"It will be, as Laestarp's geas continues its depraved work on the poor child," said Jonker.

Basdon started. "You mean it does not stop? That she will age before our eyes?"

"Not exactly. The geas hastens maturity, which is not the same in all facets as aging. Thus Eanna still has the freshness of a child of six in a body matured to nineteen years. But maturity in time involves processes closely related to aging, and these can kill as readily as aging itself. Also, these processes in an unaged body set up conflicts not ordinarily seen. In most cases, the geas Laestarp imposed on Eanna is fatal in six weeks."

"Just another month, then!" gasped the swordsman in a horrified whisper.

"Yes: Time enough to finish our task and return home, so that her ashes can be scattered by the still kindly breezes of Nenkunal," murmured Jonker.

"You have not told her this?"

"No, and I will not until the disparate forces at work within her make the prospect of an early death a welcome relief."

Early the following morning they by-passed the last inhabited town, with Basdon taking unusual precautions to make it seem he was skirting the evil region of Oliber rather than entering it.

Soon he was leading the magician and girl through a wilderness even more desolate than the Hif Hills. What trees still stood were blackened as if by countless burnings, and the brush was gnarled and stunted.

"How much farther?" he asked Eanna without looking at her.

"I don't know, except that it's close," she said. "Nothing is like it was."

As they advanced such vegetation as there was gradually vanished, as if the soil itself had been poisoned. Rainstorms had taken their toll of the denuded ground. Gullies too steep for climbing frequently blocked their way and had to be skirted.

At last the girl admitted, "I haven't seen anything I knew for a long time. I'm going by the sun. That's all I can do."

"Don't worry," said the magician. "Just do your best, and we'll find it."

They urged their mounts up a rise and onto a rocky plateau where the hardness of the ground had protected it somewhat from erosion.

Before them lay the remains of Oliber-by-Midsea, some thousand yards away. Beyond it, half hidden by a greenish haze, was a murky salt marsh where blue water had once gleamed, as if the sea itself had drawn back, in pious repulsion, from what was now deemed a center of ancient evil.

But the startling sight was not the city or the marsh, but the god-warrior pickets stationed along the outskirts of the ruins. Basdon muttered a curse and loosened his sword in its sheath.

"This I did not anticipate," hissed Jonker, alarmed.

"Who are they?" asked Eanna.

"God-warriors," said Basdon. "They've seen us, I believe. Yes, some of them are mounting."

"Shall we make a run for safety?" asked the magician.

Basdon frowned in thought. "Perhaps Eanna could escape on my horse, but our other mounts are too slow."

"Where would I go? Who would . . . who would . . . ?" protested the girl.

"Never mind," grunted Basdon. "We won't try that, and we won't run. We'll go ahead and see what happens." He jogged his horse into a sedate walk toward a gathering of ten warriors who now barred the way.

"Running would be useless, I suppose," sighed Jonker.

"What will they do to us?" hissed the terrified girl.

"Who knows?" Basdon replied. "Nothing until after they take us. Magician, have your rod ready, but out of sight!"

Basdon was not particularly dismayed by the prospect of battle against totally overwhelming odds. As a fighting man, he had long been reconciled to the likelihood of an early and violent end. And what better time than now, when death would bring the end to bitterness, frustration, and burning eyes?

Nor, he realized, did he have reason to regret the sharing of his fate with Jonker and Eanna. The old magician was an anachronism, a regret-burdened leftover of a happier age, striving absurdly for a re-flowering of The Art in a ridiculously distant future. As for the girl, a quick death would cost her nothing but a single month of increasing pain and misery.