The River Wall (26 page)

“It
is
possible,” I said. “It will take a lot of faith and commitment for a group of people to start and continue a journey like that, generation after generation.”

“It would require peace, as well,” Tarani said thoughtfully. “The business of relocating and surviving would require all the attention the people could spare. Harassment by Ferrathyn or others who might disrupt the journey for private gain—a continual possibility while the Ra’ira is open to abuse—would be fatal to the purpose.”

“It’s important to take Ferrathyn out of the picture for another reason too,” I said. “As High Lord, you might be able to convince the Eddartans to undertake the journey. As Captain, I could probably persuade the Sharith to join us. But climbing the Wall is only part of the story, Tarani,” I said. “At the top, Gandalarans will have an entirely different climate, a new environment to cope with.

“Gandalaran society won’t survive up there unless it changes, and change is always promoted by cross-fertilizing different attitudes, viewpoints, skills. The more of ‘old’ Gandalara that reaches the surface, the better chance for a healthy ‘new’ Gandalara. ‘New’ Gandalara will need what Raithskar has—the concept of elected officials, a knowledge of how to mine and work iron, skill with irrigation and ceramics. It will need the glassmakers of Dyskornis, and those who quarry and mason Omergol’s green marble. The journey up the River Wall must be undertaken by
all
of Gandalara—not just parts of it. And as long as Ferrathyn has the Ra’ira and control of Raithskar and the vineh, there is no hope of that kind of unity.”

“An excellent analysis, Rikardon,” said Zanek from the doorway. He glanced quickly at Thymas, who had stepped out in front of him and stood a little way behind me. The boy looked confused and sad, but he smiled slightly in response to my nod of greeting.

“I have given the Lieutenant a far too brief summary of what we have learned of one another during the night, my friends,” Zanek said. “At this point, he understands even less than I do of this discussion, to which we have been listening unashamed for the past few moments. I do see, however, that you both believe you have found the answer for which I wished so deeply, and I am profoundly grateful. Anything that I can do to aid you, you may ask of me.”

“I may ask a great deal,” I said grimly, looking into the old mans eyes.

He looked at me questioningly.

“You heard what I said—that the journey we plan must be undertaken by
all
of Gandalara?”

Zanek nodded.

“The first step is to defeat Ferrathyn. Your knowledge of the Ra’ira and your mindskill may help us.”

A shadow fell into the old man’s eyes, then passed on.

“It is not a welcome task, as I feel sure you already knew when you proposed it,” Zanek said. “However, what I can do, I will.”

“That’s the easy part,” I said, allowing myself a smile. “The hard part comes after Ferrathyn is beaten. It will be necessary to reunite the separate parts of Gandalara, to bring everyone together in a single purpose.” Zanek’s eyes widened, and his face turned pale. “I won’t argue that you’ve already done more than your share for this world,” I said softly. “But neither can you dispute the fact that the symbol of the First King, returned to found and lead a new Kingdom, is possibly the only thing that would draw Gandalara together after the damage wrought by the shaking earth and Ferrathyn’s madness.”

Before Zanek could reply, Thymas stepped forward and spoke.

“You are assuming,” he said, “that everyone will believe, without question, that Zanek has returned. I have seen him and spoken to him, and it has not been easy for me to believe it.”

Zanek found his voice.

“The Lieutenant makes a valid point,” he said, “and so do you, Rikardon. I would ask your patience, and make no commitment just now. The prospect of accepting such responsibility again—it will take some consideration, not only of my feelings but of my capabilities. As you say, it is Ferrathyn’s defeat which is the first step, though not, as you say”—he smiled—“the ‘easy part.’ Let us concentrate on that effort first, and delay this awkward choice until it is clearly needed.”

“The defeat of Ferrathyn,” Tarani said suddenly. “Rikardon, you have not made it clear to me yet. In this time-changing theory you describe, is our victory over Ferrathyn assured merely through our presence?”

“I wish I could say yes to that, Tarani,” I answered, “but I can’t. If our continued presence in our own world had made a difference there, I’d say, logically, that our arrival here makes change inevitable. But Antonia and Ricardo both had such a short time left to live, I doubt their sudden absence created an event significant enough to alter
that
timeline.”

“Then … in our own timeline’ we might have been called back in just this way, and still—and still failed,” she said.

“There is no way to know,” I said. “All I know, what I
believe
, is that Ferrathyn and the geologic changes are part of the same world-changing event which is capable of generating
two
timelines. In one, Gandalara disappears from the earth’s memory and is never known to the future. In the other, Gandalara survives to climb over its own Walls, and humanity—if not strictly
Homo sapiens
—walks the surface of the earth fifty million years early.

“I don’t think merely our being here is enough to guarantee success,” I said. “But I also know that if we fail, it won’t be because we didn’t try. Agreed?” I asked, looking around.

The four of us came together in a massive hug that carried with it the special sweetness of hope.

“How likely is it,” I asked Zanek, “that Ferrathyn knows what we know?”

Zanek looked up from the map on the table to frown at me. “Did you not say that you and Tarani are resistant to his power?” he asked.

“
We
are,” I said slowly. Thymas had left us less than an hour ago, and would return as soon as he felt able to leave his mother.

That’s a hard message to carry
, I thought to myself.
“Dharak’s body is alive, but my father doesn’t live there anymore.” I’m glad Thymas is not here now, though, because this is a tough question, and one he would be especially sensitive to.

“I guess I’m really asking about the power of the Ra’ira. We feel sure that Ferrathyn’s power reached all the way to Eddarta, to help Gharlas when he fought Tarani, me, and Thymas. Can’t he reach into Thagorn, to a mind that he
can
read, and learn all our plans as quickly as we make them?”

Zanek nodded. “I see your concern,” he said, “but it is unfounded.” He smiled. “It surprises me that you do not already have that answer, from our ‘meeting’ in the All-Mind.”

“Those meetings were very brief,” I said, “too brief. In case I haven’t mentioned it, I feel very honored to have the opportunity to really know you, Zanek.”

He shifted his weight in the armchair, and seemed at a loss for anything to say. Tarani chose that moment to come inside again, having gone out to the stream to fill a water pitcher. She looked from one to the other of us as she gathered drinking cups from a high shelf and set them on the table. “What have I missed?” she asked, pouring water into the cups.

“I was only thinking,” I said, “that we still don’t know much about Ferrathyn, and even less about his powers, with and without the Ra’ira. I’d say our experience has proved that he can’t read our minds, though his compulsion power does have a limited effect on us. But what’s to keep him from watching our movements through the other people in Thagorn? Or does he not even know we’re in Thagorn?” I threw up my hands. “How can we
fight
somebody if we don’t know
anything
about his capabilities?”

“We
do
know about his capabilities,” Zanek assured me, taking one of the cups from Tarani. “At least, as far as the Ra’ira is concerned. To answer your earlier question about seeing thoughts at a distance, that can be done only under specific conditions and at the cost of a great deal of physical strain.”

“What are the conditions?” Tarani asked.

“In concept, it is rather like the way a maufel guides a maufa,” he said, sipping thoughtfully at his water. “The linking element is not a place, however, but
a
person.”

Tarani was quick to grasp the point Zanek was making.

“A bird cannot be sent to a place his handler has not seen,* she said, “and Ferrathyn cannot see the thoughts of people at
a
distance unless …” She paused, thinking. “There must be someone present at that distant place,” she said, turning to me suddenly, “someone like Gharlas who has been—” She turned back to Zanek. “What would you call it?” she asked him. “Touched? Marked?”

Zanek shrugged. “Either term would do, I should think. What happens is that once you—meaning someone who
is
using the Ra’ira—have contacted a person’s mind frequently, a sort of bond is established. You can create such a bond deliberately; I did it, myself, with anyone who was going somewhere to speak for the Kingdom.

“That bond survives any distance, but the effort of reaching it increases with the distance between you and the familiar mind.”

Thinking of Gharlas, I asked: “Is it possible for you to use the, um, familiar mind as a channel for your own mindgifts?”

“Such as?” he returned.

“Such as,” I said, “using that familiar mind as a—a distant base from which you can see what’s going on, cast compulsions, read other people’s thoughts, or—uh—create another familiar bond.”

Tarani gasped, but said nothing. Zanek looked from one
to
the other of us, then leaned forward in his chair, elbows
on
knees.

“I see this has a special meaning for you,” he said. “No,
it is
not possible—at least, I never did it.”

“What about the people who ‘spoke for the Kingdom’?” I asked. “This occurred to me when you said that, because I thought you meant you could exercise all your power through them.”

Zanek shook his head. “No, I saw only their circumstances through their own minds. If they could not handle a situation, I ordered them to return to Kä and I journeyed to the place myself.”

“Were any of your ‘speakers’ mindgifted?” Tarani asked.

“Some, I’m sure,” Zanek said. “Why?”

“Tarani is thinking,” I said, standing up and stretching,
“that
through Gharlas, Ferrathyn has twice touched Thymas’s mind. You say you never tried it, Zanek, and I also know
that
mindgifts were not as widespread, nor people as familiar with them, as they are now. Gharlas had a considerable native gift which Ferrathyn was able to use. Possibly, he used it only by suggestion or compulsion, and it was only Gharlas’s own strength we felt.

“Possibly, however, Gharlas’s mindpower made him an especially effective familiar, and allowed Ferrathyn’s strength and skills to work through him—at a distance.”

“I agree that my experience does not preclude that possibility,” Zanek said after a moment, “but my memory is very clear on the amount of effort it required merely to contact someone I knew a great distance away. If such a thing is possible, I feel strongly that it would be practical only if the familiar mind stayed fairly close to the person using the Ra’ira.”

“
Practical
,” I echoed, thinking:
He’s said it probably couldn’t happen, and he’s the most valid authority we have. Why won’t I believe him? Why is this idea bugging me so?
“But possible at the longer distances?”

“Yes,
possible
,” he emphasized, moving impatiently in his chair.

“I don’t mean to doubt your opinion,” I said, “but—”

“You know how this conversation would hurt Thymas, if he heard it,” Tarani interrupted, looking at the cup in her hands.

“Yes, I do know,” I said quietly. She turned the empty cup in her hands, still not looking at me. “I also know how he would feel if it were true, and we ignored the possibility.”

“Thymas?” Zanek said, with genuine surprise. “You suspect Thymas of being such a second-stage familiar mind?”

“Twice he was exposed, for a prolonged period of time, to compulsion control by Gharlas, and to some extent, we’re sure, by Ferrathyn
through
Gharlas. It might have been enough time, given Gharlas’s usability as a channel, for Ferrathyn to make such a bond.”

“Twice Thymas threw off Gharlas’s control,” Tarani said, beginning to sound angry. She put her cup down on the table and stood up. “How can you suspect he would allow such an abomination?”

“Of course he wouldn’t allow it—if he knew about it,” I said. I stood up, too, and put my hands on Tarani’s shoulders. “I saw how he hated being controlled, Tarani. But this may be a completely different feeling, one he can’t detect. I don’t want to believe it—I
don’t
believe it. But I don’t think we have
room
for even the slightest error about this sort of thing.”

“You want to exclude Thymas from our plans?” she said,
and
I nodded miserably.

“I know it will hurt Thymas terribly,” I said. “But I think he will understand. I think, in my place, he would do the same thing.”

“Personal considerations aside,” Zanek said, so that I released Tarani and we both turned toward him, “and looking at it from a purely practical point of view, how can the Captain
of
the Sharith exclude the Lieutenant from plans which may include the Sharith?”

I started pacing, thoughts which had been floating around in my head beginning to coalesce into an idea. “For a while,” I said, “the Sharith will not be in any condition to sustain a fight. They’re going to be busy incorporating the new population of sha’um, getting accustomed to women being Riders, sorting out what that means to the sha’um and their own lifestyle. Thymas has every practical need to concentrate on guiding the Sharith through this period of confusion. We only need to tell him the truth,” I said decisively, “that Tarani and I are going into Raithskar to see what’s happening, and will send for the Sharith when they are needed.”

Zanek sat up, a shocked look on his face.