Krull. Part 9

"So Darro always insisted, no matter how hard we teased him about it."

"Then surely there was no crime in it," Colwyn said. "When this is over I will make certain that his name is expunged from any criminal records where it appears, and that his family is told in whose service and how well he sold his life."

"Darro would've liked that. Few men choose crime for a profession. It always seems to choose them."

"I know how the fates can set one on a path he never imagined, nor even wishes for himself. What of you, friend Torquil? What troubles placed you on this sorry path?"

"Another time, Colwyn, mayhap I'll tell you you." He gestured up the trail. "For the moment, it seems we have lost one man only to find another to take his place."

Colwyn followed his pointing finger. "One, I see, who may be worth more than any three, though 'tis no man who stands before us."

They approached the newcomer. His recovered trident in hand, the cyclops stood between Ergo and t.i.tch, towering over them. His single eye regarded them benignly.

Ergo was forced to lean back in order to see the disconcerting face of their rescuer. "This is the second time you've saved my life. I admit to feeling some apprehension the first time our paths crossed."

"That is quite understandable." There was nothing but gentleness in the Cyclops's voice. "My appearance is upsetting to most men, something which I regret but refuse to apologize for, as I am not responsible for it."

"I am Ergo." He extended a welcoming hand, saw it vanish in the vast but easy grip.

"The Magnificent, if I am not mistaken?"

Ergo tried to hide his annoyance. "He appears to have compensated for the loss of an eye by developing a talent for eavesdropping," he muttered to t.i.tch.

"Doesn't he have a name? But why do I ask you? So terrifying a vision would obviously send a child such as yourself fleeing in terror at its mere sight."

"Not really," said t.i.tch apologetically. "His name is Rell. I've met him before." The cyclops smiled down at the boy. "He visits the seer sometimes. He doesn't talk much and when he and my master converse they use words that are beyond me. He lets my master do most of the talking. I don't think he likes to talk."

"So I've noticed. Except to be sarcastic to those who wish "Or to talk with those who already are friends," the cyclops commented.

Ergo was still reluctant to forgive the slight. "My name is not for jesting with, beanpole. It's all very well and good to have a short name when you're twelve feet tall, but small people need large names to give them weight."

"Your actions give you more weight than any name could, my sensitive38 friend," the giant told him somberly. "I saw you save the boy from the spear. That was worth a hundred n.o.ble t.i.tles. I've seen many n.o.ble men turn tail and flee when confronted with such a choice. He who takes the risk to save another honors his name in deed far more than can be done by any combination of letters."

Embarra.s.sment was a posture Ergo rarely suffered from, but it made him turn away now. "Well, there's no need to make a fuss over it. It was easy. No spear was coming at me. Besides, it's what friends are supposed to do for one another."

"Exactly so," said the cyclops. "Don't try to shrug it off. Your heroism is much more real than your affected magnificence."

"What do you mean 'affected'?" Ergo demanded to know, back on emotionally comfortable ground again.

The cyclops sighed. "Never have I met a man so intent on avoiding a well-deserved compliment. Do not think to avoid it so easily, my friend. What I can see, I see clearly and without distortion."

Colwyn arrived in time to cut off Ergo's ready rejoinder.

"Ah," said the cyclops, "so this is the man who claims to be king of more than a kingdom." He studied the new arrival carefully. "What's wrong, man? Are you not content with one kingdom that you must lay claim to more?"

"I did not choose this course of action, one-eye. It was il_ - _ _ - *

"Ah, circ.u.mstance," the cyclops mused aloud. "I could tell you much about circ.u.mstance, young king."

"I hope that I may have the opportunity to listen," Colwyn nodded toward Ergo. "You've been paralleling our course for some time now. Shadowing our companion here."

Ergo puffed up like a toad-frog. "It's only natural he would toe attracted to an obviously superior type."

"Not to mention one with a propensity for wandering off on his own and drawing the attention of marauding Slayers," Colwyn reminded him.

"It's true I have been following you," the cyclops admitted. "I would still be keeping my own company if not for the need to aid His Magnificence on several occasions." Both waited for a response from Ergo but that worthy wisely elected to hold his peace this time.

The cyclops nodded across to where Ynyr was conversing softly with the seer.

"When I learned that the old one had come down off his mountain I knew that the time had come."

"Time for what?" Colwyn asked curiously.

"The time for decision-making. It's something the seer and I talked of on many occasions. Being wise, he was not intimidated by my size and since he is blind, I was not intimidated by his knowledge. We got along well."

"I can see why, for though your appearance may be fearsome to many, I find your openness and perceptivity appealing. There is no need to keep to the bush and rocks. Travel with us, instead of alongside us. All men need company."

The cyclops smiled broadly. "Yes. All men. I think that you will make a good king, Colwyn. If you live." He turned and walked off to inspect the lakesh.o.r.e.

Colwyn beckoned to Torquil. "What do you think of our new ally?" i "He's agreed to join us, then?"

own he chose not to announce it until now. I've invited him to share our company as well as our purpose."

Torquil looked to where the cyclops was probing the water with his huge trident. "I'm glad you did so. He'll be a fit replacement for poor Darro, and in any fight he'll be worth half a dozen men. His kind hates the Slayers, and if there are any spoils to be taken he'll not demand a share. A better * fighting companion would be hard to imagine."

"I'm glad you approve." Colwyn watched the cyclops at his work. "Though I'm not sure your opinion of him matters any more than does mine." "How do you mean?"

"He'd already decided he was going to join us. Come. Let's get out of this place and hope there are no more ambushes waiting for us. I'm as anxious as any man to breathe clean air again."

Though she ran down endless corridors, she had no way of marking the pa.s.sage of time. She did not grow hungry, and nervousness alone kept her from collapsing from fatigue. That, and a determination to run until she was stopped.

She wished for the rats that would normally infest such a place, but this was no ordinary fortress. Even common vermin shunned its peculiar tunnels and39 pa.s.sages.

Then the gown and robe appeared before her again, its glowing crown a floating promise of an awful, unimaginable destiny.

"Why have I been brought here?" she asked.

And she heard the voice of the Beast, not as an echoing roar that filled the corridors, but as words, carried to her in a tone of sly confidence.

"For a ceremony."

"What kind of ceremony?"

"Do you not recognize before you a gown such as no woman has ever seen of dreamed of? Do you not recognize the crown that can only be worn by a queen wedded to He Who Commands? You have been brought here for a wedding." She was too frightened to scream. She turned to retreat back the way she'd come, but a white Slayer stood there, impa.s.sively threatening. With a weak cry she turned and stumbled off still deeper into the maze....

It was strange to find such an extensive strip of dry land in the middle of the Great Swamp, but the narrow bridge of earth and gravel was a welcome sight to the marchers. They'd been straining their eyes on the faint path ever since they'd entered the Great Swamp lest they step out on a surface that might suddenly disappear. It was a relief to stride, however briefly, on land that did not swallow a man's ankles.

t.i.tch had fallen back, leaving the uncomplaining seer to walk with Ergo to guide him. The boy was drawn to the cyclops. Now he rode atop the giant's shoulders.

In addition to being fun, it provided him with the best vantage point of all.

"That way," he would announce from time to time, and the group would obediently alter direction to comply with his directions.

"What's it like being able to see out of only one eye?" he asked innocently.

"Never having had the pleasure of looking at the world out of two, I cannot say for sure," the cyclops replied thoughtfully, "but from my occasional conversations with two-eyed men, I gather it's something like squinting all the time. I cannot see as widely, but what I do see I see with great clarity. Close one eye of your own and you will see what 1 mean."

The boy complied. "That's not so bad."

"There are worse infirmities a man can suffer. Better one eye lost than an arm or leg."

"If it was in my power to do so I'd give you the other one back," t.i.tch told him solemnly.

"I know you would, boy. My people made a bad bargain with the Slayers'

master. Perhaps someday we will have a chance to start anew. I will not see that day, but I can hope that it comes to children born of one-eyed mothers."

Ergo waited until the conversation lagged before commenting. "If I had my wish I'd be out of this miserable place right now. And if I really had a wish I'd be sitting on top of a gooseberry trifle the size of a mountain."

"Greed has been the cause of death in many a man," observed Ynyr. He spoke to Ergo but his gaze was on Torquil. Or was it? These d.a.m.ned wise men, the bandit grumbled to himself. You never can tell what they're thinking about you. Always they talk in riddles in order to keep us poor common folk bemused as to their real intentions. It would be better if they were easily understood.

Of course, that would make whoever understood them a wise man himself.

Torquil pondered this as they marched deeper into the Wyn-nah-Mabrug.

"Perhaps you're right, old man," Ergo replied. "Maybe I am too greedy. I am willing to scale down my desires, yea, even my wishes. So I'd settle for a trifle as big as a house." Ynyr made a disgusted face and said no more. Clearly this Ergo was beyond learning wisdom.

t.i.tch's face had been wrapped in deep thought while the adults talked. Now he brightened. "I'd wish for a puppy."

"A typical child's thought. I'd have thought better of you, boy," Ergo said.

"Why not wish for gold, or power? That way you could buy or command all the puppies you desired."

t.i.tch shook his head, his voice soft. "One puppy would be enough for me."

"Just one? As long as you're wis.h.i.+ng why not make full use of your wish? Why not wish for a hundred?"

t.i.tch shook his head stubbornly. "What would I do with a hundred puppies?"

"Sell ninety-nine of them."

"A man after my own heart," murmured Torquil, but somehow it did not fill40 the air with the freshness of a compliment. Ergo decided to ignore it.

"I only want one," t.i.tch repeated, so sadly that Ergo decided not to trouble the boy further. Instead he lowered his attention and questions out.

"A foolish wish. And you, Rell. What would you wish for? A one-eyed beauty to make your mate? A trident of pure gold? Or perhaps a small kingdom of your own?"

The single eye managed to match Ergo's two. "Ignorance."

Ergo was ready with a reply, hesitated, thought better of it, and subsided.

They walked on in silence.

It seemed that the mist had dispersed a little when they made the sharp turn to the right. Afterward no one could say exactly what happened. The ground sank from under their feet without any warning.

One moment all were striding confidently along and the next, half the party found themselves struggling in thick soup that clutched powerfully at their legs.

"Quicksand!" Kegan roared even as he threw himself backward and searched for a solidly anch.o.r.ed handhold.

Those who remained on firm ground rushed to aid the trapped. Even Ynyr lent a hand, though the seer could only stand out of the way and give moral support.

Ergo, t.i.tch and Ynyr linked hands, the old man clinging to a gnarled tree trunk, Ergo reaching out over the muck to extend a hand to Oswyn. They soon had him extricated.

Bardolph was caught close to several low-hanging trees and Torquil was able to pull him free without help. The thief slid clear of the danger easily. He was breathing hard as he stood and felt of himself. Suddenly his eyes dropped to his waist and then glanced sharply toward the false trail that had nearly claimed him.

"My dagger!" He moved into the fringe of the quicksand, his boots sinking up to the ankles as he hunted with his eyes.

"Bardolph, leave it go!"

"'Tis gold-plated and the hilt of three-quarters precious, finely worked and honed by Anast the Elder, Torquil."

"Yes. I've seen it and I know it's your pride, man, but consider what-"

Bardolph didn't hear him, but let out an excited exclamation as he spotted a faint gleam disappearing in the sand. "There it is!" He dove for the flash of light, spread-eagling himself as he leaped.

"Idiot!" Torquil extended himself into the quicksand and managed to keep his footing as Bardolph flailed about until he triumphantly held the dagger aloft. This time the bandit leader had to work twice as hard to free his follower from the pit.

Bardolph emerged covered with grime but the dagger glowed in the dim light.

"Beautiful," Bardolph said reverently as he began to clean the blade. "I couldn't let it go."

"Not as beautiful as a life," Torquil growled at him. He nodded toward the blade. "The world is full of daggers. Too many, I sometimes think. Perhaps it would be a safer place if all were forbidden to own them."

"Don't be a fool, Torquil. Daggers do no harm. That lies only in the hearts of those who wield them."

"Perhaps. Next time you would do well to let this one go."

"Nay, there are none so beautiful as this one. I sometimes feel sorry for the n.o.ble I stole it from." He slipped the s.h.i.+ning blade back into its sheath.

"It'll end up killing you someday." Bardolph only grinned at his leader.

Meanwhile Colwyn had rescued the dour Kegan, and the cyclops had easily freed Rhun. All stood safe again on firm ground.

But Colwyn was not satisfied. "Something's wrong," he muttered as he watched Rhun thanking the giant. He studied the little band. Surely they were still one short? Wouldn't Torquil notice an absence? But the bandit chief was arguing with Bardolph over something.

Then the face returned to him and a name to match it. He looked carefully at the fringe of the quicksand pit, at the places concealed by overhanging bushes and roots.

"Menno!" he shouted, spotting a waving hand.