The Sword Bearer (29 page)

Then he remembered. The proseo comai stone. It was concealed within a pouch inside his right sleeve. Gently he fumbled for it with the fingers of his left hand, grasping it with growing excitement But he lay perfectly still, not removing his hand from the sleeve, while he gripped the stone with his fingers.

His lips scarcely moved as he formed the words silently, "Let them be protected by fire! And for ten thousand years let walls of fire rise to remind any who approach the island that the Changer protects his own!" A wave of power momentarily filled his body, and he knew that all was well. Or he thought it was. There would be many hours before the efel spawn rose for it was still night.

How long had he been unconscious? The thought disturbed him. One of the goblins addressed him, its singsong voice disturbing his thoughts.

"Eet leeves, ees eet not?"

"Yes. I'm still alive. But not for long." The words were low and faint

"Wee keep eet leeveeng."

"Why?"

"Eet weell bee tortured by Preenz Neecolas."

Mab could feel no pain. His body felt cold but quite comfortable. He concluded that it was incapable of feeling pain and so he was unafraid. He made no reply. The high-pitched voice continued, "Wee keep eet alive to geev eet good news. The Sword Bearer, eet was feeneeshed beeeeng danger. Efel spawn capture eet just now. Take to Preenz Neecolas. Eet weell see eet"

Dismay filled him. He knew it now. Twenty-four hours had passed while he was unconscious. Had he used the pross stone too late? So this was the torture he was to experience, the torture of witnessing John in the hands of the Goblin Prince. That would be torture indeed.

But no! It could not,
would not
happen! He was a seer. And that one prophecy had been given to him! He had
seen
it!
Seen
the Sword Bearer split the Goblin Prince in half! It had already happened in the eyes of the Changer!

John could see no details of the monster. Moonlight reflected on a shimmering dark green surface. Directed by a superior will it glided toward him more swiftly than the efel spawn. John wanted to shout, to tell everyone what was happening, but his throat was dry and his mouth was paralyzed. He tried to run, but his legs refused to move. Inside his body an ongoing scream was trapped unheard. The creature was upon him. Its head flattened and butted his legs. He fell forward onto a mass of writhing efel spawn cells.

Immediately he felt himself being raised, and as he lifted his head, he saw that he rode on the back of the creature. Strangely, none of the efel spawn had bitten him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of two neighboring Matmon who were striking the monster's head with their torches. The sight mobilized him. He raised his own torch and plunged it deeply down into the creature.

At once a dozen efel spawn cells ballooned up, thrusting him into the air. As they exploded, they tossed him over the side of the creature. He fell heavily and lay uninjured but stunned with the wind knocked out of him. But the life instinct was now strong in him. He struggled to his hands and knees. Galloping hoofs approached him. Folly seized his belt with his teeth, lifted him and carried him to a place around Folly's own fire.

He dropped him there. John never heard him say, "Better late than dead. Or is it better red than never? Anyway it's not true. And now the efel spawn are at my back, and I am tempting fatality. Once bitten, never no more to roam. It is a far, far' better thing I do than every day in every way—good-by, Just John." But John was still too shaken to realize what was happening.

It was only later that he learned of the titanic struggle between Aguila and the monster, of how she swept down from the skies with a shriek to burst through the middle of it, scattering the efel spawn cells by the flapping of her enormous wings, and of how, covered with efel spawn she yet managed to clear the castle walls before plunging to her death in the lake. What he did see later was Oso, sitting on the outer parapets and mourning her every day for a week

How long he lay by the fire he did not know. But with his cheek resting against the hot stone, his faculties began to return. He saw he was beside a different fire and that once more a tide of efel spawn threatened his life. But he could do nothing. He lay on his stomach, struggling to rise, gasping, croaking and retching as he fought for breath. Two Matmon women on either side of him were battling to protect him with their torches.

Eventually he managed to get up and to breathe. Then, aching and dizzy, he groped for a torch, lit it and turned to fight. Folly was nowhere to be seen. But something was wrong. Now there seemed to be fire everywhere. Across the courtyard the whole sea of efel spawn was ballooning and exploding. There was heat in his face, heat every bit as intense as the heat at his back Titanic walls of fire had surrounded the whole island.

"Leave your positions!" he heard Bjorn call. "Take shelter beneath the tower on the wharf."

There were soon no efel spawn to be seen. Brilliant light from the fire walls illuminated the courtyard, and terrible heat scorched it John limped as well as he could in terror of the inferno that surrounded the island. Was the island itself on fire? Was the water of the lake burning?

There was panic, jostling and confusion at the head of the ־steps that led down to the wharf. By some miracle no tragedy occurred and soon nearly eighty of them were crowded on the rocky wharf below the tower. All were weary, and all grateful for the coolness of the cavern and for their escape from the efel spawn. But what was the meaning of the fire? Had they been saved from one ordeal only to face a fiery death?

"Seven dead, including Folly and Aguila," Bjorn said as the hubbub settled. "Deeply we mourn their loss. They sold their lives dearly and we owe them much." But the immediate excite-ment blunted the significance of his words to all of them. Certainly John did not take them in. And since they had nothing else to do, most of them squatted on the stone surface of the wharf. Those nearest the water would stoop to scoop it into their hands to drink and there was a regular shuffling as Matmon who had quenched their thirst made way for those who were still thirsty. In the cave all was stillness. No roar of fire could be heard, only the whispering echoes of their low voices.

Bjorn had gone to the top of the stairs to see what was hap-pening. Soon he came down and called for silence. "Good tidings!" he said. "Or shall I say the tidings
seem
good. The fire has pulled back It surrounds us on all sides, but at a distance of fifty yards from the walls. The heat can no longer be felt Best of all, the water in the lake is free from efel spawn. The fire must have destroyed them!"

There was an outbreak of excitement and of confused cheering. Matmon crowded eagerly to the stairway to see for themselves. John found himself pushed and jostled along with them up the steps, across the courtyard and up more steps onto the walls.

It was an awesome, awesome sight Across a stretch of blood-tinged, black water, a curtain of fire rose from the lake five hundred feet into the air and extended in a sweeping circle round the island. The flames undulated with stately majesty. They were not the flickering flames of a fireplace but flames that waved upward in ponderous sweeping movements as though offering homage to the feeble moon.

Spellbound they watched them for an hour while the curtain slowly extended and drew back from them. Then without warning, two hundred yards from the island, it disappeared in an instant. They rubbed their dazzled eyes and stared. The moon was again clear. Reflected moonlight glittered on the black waters. The efel spawn were no more.

John joined Vixenia and the king and queen in the royal chambers. "The fire," Vixenia said, "—it was like the fire we would have asked for with the third stone. Where could it have come from?"

"Rathson's idea was good. Would that he might have lived to see it work," Bjorn murmured.

"But our grandson is no longer with us," Bjornsluv answered. "Yet the fire came. From whence?"

"Surely not from the dead," the king said, looking startled.

John had no stomach to talk about the dead. Now that the excitement was over, a weight of oppression rested on him. Grief for Mab rose fresh within him, twisting his heart and burning his eyes. Folly too was dead, and he struggled to come to terms with the fact "Well, we have a spare pross stone and nothing to do with it," he said bitterly.

"No," Vixenia observed slowly. "We have no more pross stones. Mab the seer took the last one with him. We have no more unless we should some day find the fourth one he dropped in the cave."

"The one he took did little good for him," Bjorn said.

John's heart was beating wildly.

"I'd forgotten about that. Yes, of course, he took it with him. You don't think ... ? No, that's impossible. His head simply flopped.. . . Oh, but was he really dead? What if. . ." Suddenly he rose to his feet "
What if he's still alive and he used the stone? What if the fire walls came from him? What if he needs our help?
Oh, whatever can we do?"

There was a stunned pause. Suddenly John shouted, "His staff! I've got his staff in my room!" And without even excusing himself he turned and left them.

It took him less than a minute to reach his chamber. Seizing the staff in a shaking hand he cried, "In the name of the Changer,
my
Changer, take me to Mab!"

The staff vibrated gently in his hand and began to glow with blue light Relief and joy surged in him. He half-laughed, half-sobbed. His arm began to glow, then his whole body. The room vanished. He was drifting among whirling stars and suns. Brilliant lights flashed past him as the drifting became a rushing and the rushing a hurtling. Then suddenly he was surrounded by pale blue haze.

Mab lay on a stretcher in front of him, his face pale, his eyes closed. Four goblins had been carrying the stretcher but had stopped and were staring at John. The blue glow shone from him. Suddenly he knew where he was.
The Old Way.
They were taking Mab somewhere. But where? He dared not pause.

With one fierce movement he bent over Mab and plunged his free arm under the old man's waist drawing him to himself. Two of the goblins flung themselves on him. "In the name of the Changer," he cried, "take us back!" Again the whirling stars and planets and again the hurtling through space. But now there were four of them, John, Mab and two goblins.

They stumbled to the floor in a lighted room. Somehow John managed not to fall on Mab. One of the demons was trying to choke him, but he struggled to his feet. The second had dropped to the ground and now crouched in front of him, ready to leap at him. The staff was still in his hand, and as a flash of blue fire leaped from it the goblin disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

The flash had caused the goblin on his back to drop from him, and he swung round to face it. Like the second goblin it crouched to spring at him. John did not wait for the staff to act but swung it furiously at the creature's enormous skull, cracking it like an egg shell. It sank to the ground, melting into a slimy green patch.

As the blue light faded from their bodies, only then did John realize that he was in the royal chambers, and that Vixenia and the king and queen were staring both at Mab and at himself in amazement

Bjornsluv fell on her knees by Mab, who lay on his back on the floor, unconscious. Noting his pallor and the stains of blood and of mud on his robe, she swiftly pulled it from his shoulders and was surprised to find skilled bandaging around his wounds. She placed her ear over his chest and after a moment said, "His lung was not pierced. There is hope." Then she straightened her back, rose to her feet and said, "I have herbs. Let us also get some of that wine of free pardon into him. Let him be placed in my bedchamber so that I may attend to him myself during the night There is life in him yet and we may need his services."

No one in all Anthropos possessed medical skills like Bjorns-luv's, and she exerted them to the full to save Mab. The next day he opened his eyes, and when he saw her he said, "So you too are at it!"

"I too?"

"A goblin physician bound my wounds and gave me herbs to keep death at bay."

"Ah, yes. I wondered at the bandaging."

"Their skill was great. . ."

"But to what end? Why would they do you good?"

"They wished to keep me alive to let me see the Goblin Prince put the Sword Bearer to death. How came I here? I gather he is alive?"

"And well! He brought you here. And the perils that surrounded us were consumed by curtains of fire."

A look of warm delight swept over Mab's face. "That is good. It is very good. So I was in time after all! I had thought it was all in vain!"

He closed his eyes then and slept peacefully.

As day succeeded day he gained more strength, but as Bjorns-luv herself admitted later, the presence of death never really departed from the room. Yet on the seventh day, Mab insisted that he rise from the couch in the queen's room. "I have dreamed of things that are to come," he said, "and I have somewhat more to do before I leave you all."