The Eye of the Hunter (62 page)

* * *

As the full Moon rose above the horizon, Gwylly began humming a tune. Faeril cocked an eye at him, and he pointed at the rising yellow orb and broke into words.

Urus’s guffaws belled out into the night, completely drowning out Faeril’s giggles and the laughter of Riatha, Aravan, and Gwylly.

When a modicum of quiet returned to the oasis, Faeril asked, “Where did you learn such wonderful nonsense, Gwylly?”

“My father—my Human father, Orith—used to sing it to me to put me to sleep, though I laughed at it instead, and Nelda, my mother, would chide Dad for keeping me awake…though she was the one who sang it to me when Dad was away in Stonehill. It was my favorite.”

Suddenly, Aravan held up a warning hand and reached for his spear.
“Ssst! The stone!”

Again they took up station in a circle facing outward, standing next to date palms.

Long moments passed, and once more Faeril saw silhouettes loping through the night. She gave a low whistle, and her companions turned to see. In that instant, clear in the moonlight, atop a dune a mottled, doglike animal appeared, pausing to look down at the comrades among the palm trees. Then it whirled and raced away, following the tracks of the others, disappearing beyond seeing among the dunes of the
Erg
.

“The stone grows warm,” said Aravan, “the peril wanes.”

Gwylly turned to the Elf. “What was it, Aravan? I mean, it had large round ears and its fur was splotched. Yet it wasn’t very big. Why would the stone grow cold at such a creature?”

“It was a wild dog of the desert, Gwylly. And in a pack they can bring down nearly
any
beast. The stone knows well the hazard of such.”

Faeril looked toward the scrub growth. “Oh my! What about the camels? Are they in danger?”

Aravan shook his head. “I think not. The stone should hold the pack at a distance.”

Riatha sat back down. “’Tis good we leave on the morrow, for I deem we keep the dogs from their water, and stone or not, they will come when thirst drives them so.”

Aravan nodded, agreeing. “Aye, Dara, thou hast the right of it. Some things are too virulent to be affected by the stone—Vulgs, Loka, Rucha, and other
Spaunen
, Drakes, monsters of the deep, to name a few—”

“The wyrm of the well,” interjected Gwylly.

“Aye, Gwylly, the wyrm, too.

“Other things are too desperate for the stone to hold at bay—creatures driven by hunger, thirst, a need to defend themselves or their get, a need to escape, to flee.

“The wild dogs are among these last, for they will come regardless, when their thirst grows great enough.”

Urus gazed out into the moonlit dunes. “Then I say we sleep this night away from water’s edge. If they do come, they will find the way open.”

* * *

Five days later, in the afternoon they camped alongside a
oued
where grew cacti and thorny shrubs, for again the camels had gone awhile without sustenance.

Gwylly and Faeril climbed up a long, stony slope to see the land about. “Hoy! Look at that!” cried Gwylly as they reached the crest, the buccan pointing at the horizon. “Ships! And an ocean!”

Faeril gasped, for there in the distance before her, two lateen-sailed boats, dhows, plied the sea. Then she shook her head. “No, Gwylly. Like the lakes we’ve been seeing this too is a mirage.”

“I know, love, but isn’t it marvelous? Oh my, the other need to see this as well.” Gwylly turned and whistled down the slope, signalling to those below.

* * *

That evening, Aravan said, “Once when my crew and I were tramping across a desert in the land to the west, from a high ridge we saw a mighty forest. Down from the ridge we marched, aiming to reach the sanctuary of the trees by nightfall. When we got to where we thought the forest stood, all we discovered were fallen logs lying in the sand. We made camp, and lo! when one of the Drimm warriors took an axe to a log for firewood, the blade chipped! The log was solid stone! All the logs lying in the sand were stone!

“‘Mayhap,’ said the warrior whose axe was broken ‘mayhap a
Kötha
did this.’

“When I asked what a
Kötha
might be, he replied that it was a dire creature whose gaze could turn living things to stone.

“We left the next day, marching onward, to the great relief of all the Drimma in the company, for though most thought the
Kötha
nought but fable, they were not willing to test the truth of it.

“Yet the fallen forest of stone is not the strangest part of my tale, nor even the legend of the
Kötha
. Nay! The strangest thing of all was that when we came back through that territory, returning overland unto the
Eroean
, to ease the minds of the Drimma, we skirted ’round the region where lay the trees of stone. But when we climbed back up the distant ridge where first we sighted the forest and looked hindward along our track, once again we saw green and
growing a mighty woodland afar, there where we had found nought but a field of stone.”

* * *

Days and days they travelled across the endless waste, stopping to let the camels forage whenever they came upon desert grass and cacti and thorn bushes, small stands of twisted trees and other plants.

Ten days it took to travel from the oasis to the watering hole, some three hundred miles in all. And another five days were spent to reach the well one hundred nine miles beyond.

As they left that well and headed for the next, there came a torrential rain, and dry
oueds
filled to overflowing, the thundering water rampaging down into the flats below.

The desert burst into bloom, plants rising where it seemed nought but dry weeds stood, the whole world aflower. And wonder of wonders, they came to a small, shallow lake teeming with tiny fish!

“How can it be,” asked Faeril, “that fish swim in the desert?”

“Adon knows, wee one” was the Elf’s answer. “The world is filled with strange things, and this is but one of them.”

Faeril twisted about in her saddle. “Strange things? Such as…”

Aravan smiled down at her. “Such as sea shells embedded in stone atop mountains.”

Faeril cocked her head. “How can that
be
, Aravan?”

“I know not, Faeril. Some say that the mountains were once at the bottom of the sea, rising up long past, bringing the shells with them.”

Faeril faced front once more. “Oh, you mean that just as Atala sank, so, too, could somewhere else rise?”

“Just so, Faeril…yet that is not the only explanation. There are other tales as to how shells of the ocean got to the mountaintops. Hear me:

“There is a small desert Kingdom to the east of the Avagon Sea. There the priests say that once long past their god, Rakka, became exceedingly wroth over his errant people and caused endless rains that flooded the world entire, the oceans rising up to cover all, their waves rolling above the inundated peaks. And during this time were the sea shells
deposited upon the mountaintops, and Rakka locked them in stone as a reminder to all that his word was law.

“When I first heard this tale, there was with me a Drimm who asked several pithy questions of the priests. First he pointed out that there were some mountains that were over two leagues high, six or seven miles. He then remarked that to cover the earth over with water to that depth, it would take more water than was in all the oceans of all the world.

“His first question was, ‘Whence came this volume of water?’

“His second question was, ‘Where went the water after?’

“His third question was, ‘Would not a god who is vengeful, wrathful, who slays old Men and Women and children, the halt and the lame, the newborn and the aged, the strength of the Nation’s manhood, the flower of its womanhood, who would drown not only the people of that desert Kingdom but all the peoples of all the world, and all the animals of all the lands, and all the land birds as well—for what would they eat?—and all the freshwater fish and other water dwellers of streams and rivers and lakes, and all the trees and flowers and plants, who would kill all the life of all the world except for the creatures of the sea, and who would poison all lands with the salt of the oceans, would not such a god be evil?’

“Their responses to all three questions were always the same—
‘Only Rakka knows, for his ways are mysterious, beyond the ken of any. Rakka is beneficent and he loves you, so fear him and revere him.’

“The Drimm was disgusted with their response, and stalked away.
‘You are an infidel and are lost forever!’
shouted the priests after. ‘Better an infidel, O priests, than to worship such an evil god!’ he shouted back, and returned to the
Eroean
.

“But I stayed awhile longer, asking questions of my own ‘When came this great flood? And if all was destroyed whence came all the animals and birds, creatures of the fresh waters, all the trees and flowers and plants, and all the peoples of the world?’

“
‘As to the when,’
they replied,
‘it was some four thousand years agone.’

“‘But
I
have been on the world longer than four thousand years, and no flood o’er the whole world did I see But e’en had I not been on the world that long, other civilizations
have, and their records predate that time. How explain ye these things?’

“
‘Your memories are false, emplanted by the Evil One to question our faith, just as the records you speak of are false as well.’

“‘What then, O priests, of my other question? If all was destroyed, whence came all the animals and birds, creatures of the fresh waters, all the trees and flowers and plants, and all the peoples of the world?’

“
‘As to the saving of life, Rakka in his great love for all Mankind saved a single Rakka-fearing family, sealing them in a great cave, and they took with them two of each living thing.’

“‘Even the locust, even the worm? Even the fly and the flea?’

“
‘Verily, even the locust, even the worm, even the fly and the flea, and all other living things as well…two of each. Whether they walked on four legs or slithered on their bellies or hopped, whether they flew through the air or burrowed in the earth, be they insect, worm, or creatures too small for the eye to see, or creatures as large as the elephant.’

“‘And the green growing things, the trees and shrubs and flowers and grains and all other possible plants?’

“
‘Rakka gathered seeds from all and deposited them in the cave as well.’

“‘Even those creatures and plants which are found only in remote places throughout the world?’

“
‘Even those.’

“‘I alone have seen thousands of different kinds of creatures, and tens of thousands of blossoming things, things of leaves and blades, twigs and barks, branches and roots, and other things without, all growing, each distinct…and I have not seen one scintilla of all that this world has to offer. Know ye just how many different creatures and seeds were shut in that cave? And how large the cave would have to be to hold such?’

“
‘Nay, we do not. But Rakka knew and arranged for such.’

“‘Where is this cave? Where did he store this vast menagerie?’

“
‘It is now lost, but hear me, O faithless one: Rakka provided!’

“‘What of this, O priests: all know that when animals
are interbred and interbred and interbred for generation after generation, such breeding causes fatal weaknesses, dying lines, animals with flaws beyond saving. And if but two of each type of animal were sealed in the cave, to survive while all others perished, then would not their descendants today be defective past redemption?

“‘And lastly, had there been but a single family saved, would not their children have had to intermarry and intermarry and intermarry, brother to sister, father to daughter, mother to son, cousin to cousin, uncle to niece, aunt to nephew? Would this not weaken their blood as well, cause all manner of deformities, enfeeblements not only of the body but also of the mind? And would not all be descendants of them? All the red Men, the black, the yellow, the brown, the white, the seal-hunting peoples of the far north, the brown-skinned natives of the islands in the eastern sea, the small Men of the deep jungles, the tall Men of the north. And what of the Dwarves, the Elves, the Utruni, and others—whence came they?’

“
‘Only Rakka knows, but to Rakka all things are possible. Hence, Rakka provided. Worship him, fear him, for he loves you.’

“‘One last question do I have, and it is this: tell me, O priests, what did the shrews eat?’

“They did not understand the import of such a simple question…but their answer was,
‘Rakka provided.’

“It was then that I, too, left in disgust, and their calls of
Infidel!
and
Damned!
followed me out.

“I was glad to be gone from that place, for they listened not to simple reason, looked not at the world about them, sought not the truth, believing instead in the literal words of ancient tales—truths, history, parables, myths, legends, fables, and facts intermingled and recorded on their ‘infallible’ scrolls.”