Seer King - The Seer King Part 13

Before dawn, we chanced leaving the road for a nest of rocks, and chanced an hour's sleep, watch-on, watch-off.

At first light, we moved on once more.

It rained steadily all that day. The track was deserted.

The villages we pa.s.sed were either ruined or shut tight against the elements. We saw no man or woman all that drear day as the road climbed into the hills.

Through the rain and the mist hanging like curtains, we dimly saw a great mountain, black, wet, and evil.

"There," Seer Tenedos said, "there is the mountain I 'saw.' In it is the Tovieti's cavern."

TEN.

The Cavern of ThakITI he mountain, about three miles away, looked like a I G.o.d-child had built it of sand, and then haphazardlyM. carved away with a spoon. The nearer side would be the easiest to climb, although its slope was steep enough, which meant it would be the most heavily guarded. I could see, even through the rain, where a trail had been cut out. The trail led about two-thirds of the way up, where the entire mountainside had a nearly symmetrical scoop out of it.

"There," Tenedos pointed. "There is where we'll find the entrance to the cavern."

The face farther from us was far more precipitous, almost a cliff.

I saw no sign of life, either on the mountain or the approaches.

Not far away from where we sat was a draw. We left the trail, and rode up the narrow canyon about half a mile, until it widened into a cleft. There was enough of an overhang to give some shelter.

I ordered the men to dismount, and a.s.semble. From here, we'd move on foot. For the first time, I explained exactly what our mission was. I watched the men's faces closely. Even as tired, dirty, cold, and wet as they were, I saw no signs of dis-

couragement or fear. My warrants and I had chosen our men well. When I finished, I asked for questions.

"How'll we gie up t' th' mouth of th' cave?" one man asked. "Creepin up th' trail?"

"No," I said. "We'll go up the cliff."

A couple of the men groaned.

"Remember," I said, realizing I sounded a bit like one of my more pompous tactical instructors, "the easy way's always ambushed."

Troop Guide Bikaner gave me a look of mild approval.

We a.s.sembled our gear into backpacks and, leaving four men to watch the horses, started for the mountain. The land was desolate, with never a tree to be seen, but only the stark brush. In the dry season, it would have been desert, but now it was a sandy, sticky mire.

It was dusk when we reached its base-our timing was perfect I looked for a dry place to rest, where we'd eat and wait until full dark, but the entire world dripped dankly. We found some thick bushes I imagined to be a bit less sodden than the rest and crawled under.

I remember the meal I ate, wondering if it might be my last: dried beef that had been shredded and mixed with berries and rendered fat, which was extraordinarily nutritious, but as easy on the stomach as digesting a rock; cold herbal tea we'd brewed back in the village the night before; and soggy flat-bread dipped into a fruit jam. I admit, though, I felt better afterward.

I decided it was dark enough, and we set out. I put the hill-men in the fore of the column, since they'd have the best feel for the terrain; then (he fat infantry sergeant Vien, myself, Tenedos, the rest of the party, and the rear was brought up by Legate Baner and Troop Guide Bikaner-with mis small a party, I must have someone I had absolute confidence in for my rearguard.

We climbed for almost an hour, the grade growing steeper, but still no worse than a hill-scramble. Then the way grew more difficult, and I signaled a halt and ordered the men to rope up-we'd brought twenty-five-foot-long ropes with us. They were fine-no more than a quarter-inch in diameter- but had been given a strengthening spell by Tenedos before we left Sayana.

We pulled off our sheepskin jackets and tied them to our packs.

The way was wet and slippery, but fortunately the boulders were small enough to move around, and those we had to climb over were cracked and split, giving us sufficient handholds.

I tried to keep an idea of where we were in my heaa-there was nothing to be seen but darkness against darkness and the black rock all around. The going grew worse, and we had to traverse left again and again to find a pa.s.sable route. We were being forced closer and closer to the face with the trail, but there was little I could do to change things. At least the rain had lessened, which was a mixed favor. We could move more easily, but the likelihood of us being seen or heard was greater.

Fingersnaps came down the line, and we froze. A whisper came: "Officer up."

I untied and laboriously crept over five men, to the front of the column. Sergeant Yonge was on point.

When I reached him, I didn't need any whisper to see what the problem was. I cursed silently. Just above us was mortared stone. Wehad been moving too far left-the road to the cave's entrance was just above us. We'd have to go back and s.h.i.+ft right to a new route. I decided to slip up onto the trail, and see if I saw any sign of the Tovieti.

I was about to lever myself over the parapet when a noise came. I don't know just how to describe it, but it was a low swis.h.i.+ng, or perhaps hissing. I ducked back, and became one of the stones around me.

Something came up the path, something enormous. The sound took about ten seconds to go past, then there was nothing but the night and the rain. I forced myself to peer over the parapet, saw nothing, and pulled myself up onto the parapet and over onto the cobbled pathway. I slipped and almost fell, going to my knees. The slickness was not from the rain, but from a horrible slime that whatever had just pa.s.sed left in its trail. My stomach curled, and I decided there was no valor in continuing this reconnaissance. Now I knew what that hissing had suggested-it was the sound my mind thought an enormous slug might make as it moved past. I do not know in fact what it was, though, nor do I wish to.

Laboriously we reversed our course, and went back to our right. Eventually we found another way that seemed to go. The closer we climbed to the cave's entrance, the harder it rained. At last we'd climbed to the same level I thought the cavern to be on, and once more we traversed left. Again we came on the mortared stone, and I peered over it. The path came to an end here, on a level, parapeted terrace, a balcony with the cave mouth behind it. I saw no sign of guardians, human or otherwise. I ducked back, out of sight.

We'd made good progress-it was still two hours before dawn, I guessed. We would wait for at least an hour. Climbing had raised a sweat, and we'd paid no attention to the wet and the chill. We put our jackets back on, but clinging to the near-vertical rocks, the cold seeped through into our bones within minutes, and I was hard-pressed to keep my teeth from chattering.

Over the howling of the wind, I thought I could hear chanting, or perhaps only shouts, from the cavern.

I tried to forget about my misery, and go through, again and again, just what Tenedos had told me he'd "seen" in his brief seconds inside the cavern.

The sounds from the cavern stopped, and there was nothing but the storm. I heard another sound: boot heels that I hoped were human, clattering on the cobbles above us.

Sentries. There were two of them. Once again, we became lumps of sandy stone. But there was little real danger. I doubted the guards would bother peering over the edge-there was nothing at all to see, and they must be near the end of their watch. I'd never really entertained the hope that the entrance to the cave would be wholly unguarded.

Very slowly, as slowly as anything I've known, the sky changed from black to the darkest of grays.

Now I heard more*footsteps above, and the clatter of armor and weapons. Voices came-a challenge, a response, inaudible words, then some laughter and the sound of the relieved watch marching away. It might have been better to take care of the other sentries, knowing how cold and tired they would be, and hence easy targets. But when their relief showed, they would have cried the alarm. I listened for another s.p.a.ce, and was somewhat impressed. These sentries did march their complete rounds, rather than huddle against the weather. Nor were they talking and telling stories. I listened to them pa.s.s, then return, counting the interval. I would rather have done that half a dozen times, to ensure I had the exact time, but the sky was growing lighter all the time.

I crept up to Sergeant Yonge, and motioned. Two fingers, two fingers-fingers stiffened whisked across my throat, fingers pointing at the ground, then looping back in an arch. Yonge nodded, and I saw the stumps of his teeth flash in the dimness. He pointed to three other hillmen. They slid out of their packs and gave them to other men. Knives came out of sheaths, and the four moved up to just below the parapet.

The footsteps came back, pa.s.sed, came back once more, and four figures went over the wall. I heard the scuffle of booted feet, the very beginnings of an outcry, then, over the hiss of the rain, a falling gurgle.

I went over the parapet in a leap, Sergeant Vien behind me. The two sentries were sprawled, their seeping blood being washed away by the downpour. I saw in the growing light one of the hillmen looking shamefaced, and knew he must haver been the one who almost spoiled the killings. Sergeant Yonge would deal with him harshly if we lived through the next hour. The rest of our party came over the low rampart. "Yonge," I ordered. "That body ... throw him far out." Yonge frowned, not understanding why I didn't wish to dump both corpses, but motioned to his men, and one of the sentries was hurled into blackness. I listened, but heard no sound of the body striking.

"The other, put facedown... there." I pointed to a rock about fifty feet back down the rise, a rock it would take some scrambling to reach.

Four men maneuvered the second corpse downhill, then carefully positioned the corpse as I'd wanted.

It would be in plain sight to anyone who peered over the railing, which was exactly what I wanted. Not even Troop Guide Bikaner seemed to understand, so I briefly whispered why I'd arranged matters as I had. If someone came out on the terrace, and saw it unguarded, the first thing they would think was there'd been an accident. They'd rush to the parapet, peer out, and see poor dead Mathia, or whatever his name might have been, where he'd fallen. They would shout for help, for men to climb down and see if their comrade yet lived. That hue and cry would warn us that our escape route had been blocked, and that it was time to find another exit or plan. Or so I hoped.

Now I took the lead, Laish Tenedos just behind me. I put my best men behind him-they'd already been told their deaths were a small matter compared to Laish Tenedos's and I knew they'd obey.

Then we entered the cavern of the Tovieti.

The cave's mouth was V-shaped, and reached almost feet above the floor. About fifty feet inside, it rounded, and became an arch. Now we were out of the wind and rain, and a warm, soft wind blew toward us. It was far warmer than the caves I'd explored as a boy, and I wondered if this mountain had once been a volcano, and if its heart still held fiery lava, or if the Tovieti heated it sorcerously.

The light from the outside grew dimmer, our way now lit by torches set in niches cut into the rock. The torches were burning low, and I hoped mightily that all those inside were sleeping.

The tunnel's roof lowered sharply, until it was about ten feet above us, and the pa.s.sage narrowed, no more than thirty feet wide in places. I saw some of the men look a bit worried, and hoped the way grew no narrower; there is no way to keep from giving in to certain terrors, and the fear of being closed in is one of the strongest. But the pa.s.sageway grew no small-

er, but twisted and turned between natural stone columns, like mushroom stems, that stretched from floor to ceiling.

This cavern was not only excellent shelter, but eminently defensible-a tiny force could use those columns as cover to fight behind, or mount sudden counterattacks from behind them.

The pa.s.sageway increased in size and there were side pa.s.sages that led in different directions. But Tenedos's sense of direction was sure, and he unhesitatingly waved us on, keeping us in the main tunnel.

There were also rooms opening off the sides, and from some of them we heard the snores and s.h.i.+fts of sleeping people.

The cave opened into a great room, its ceiling at least feet above us. There were several levels in the walls of this chamber, with openings like balconies of some enormous tenement, such as I'd seen in Nicias.

Torches weren't needed here. Instead, mineral formations hung from the roof and grew up from the floor. These growths were translucent, and lights of many colors ran up and down inside them, sending a constant color kaleidoscope s.h.i.+mmering across the cave.

I thought for a moment this could be the great chamber Tenedos had seen, but he shook his head and led us on, across the floor, toward one of a myriad tunnels. He chose one, the widest and tallest, and we followed.

This pa.s.sage ran as straight as if it had been laid with a plumb for about yards, and then the cavern opened once more.

This was a truly enormous room, its walls made of the most wonderfully colored minerals. Again, there were landings and balconies studded everywhere in the walls, and those startling colors from nowhere provided the illumination.

Thiswas the chamber Tenedos had "visited." I saw the throne in the room's center, patterned closely after the one Achim Fergana sat in Sayana, although it didn't look as gem-encrusted.

Behind it was the drum-shaped altar, and, to one side, high-piled treasure the Tovieti had looted from their victims.

The room was full of sleeping people, the white-robed Tovieti, sprawled everywhere. It looked as if their priests had stopped in midceremony and cast a sleeping spell over their flock. I hoped that was true, and that it would take another incantation to rouse them.

Tenedos pointed toward the throne, and I saw, on either side of it, rows of elaborately carved chests. I lifted an eyebrow, and he nodded-he sensed that in those was what we sought. So we crept onward, weapons in hand, stepping over and around these sleeping people. There must have been several hundred in the room. Tenedos's lips were moving, and he touched his eyelids several times. I guessed him to be casting a spell of sleep, or perhaps increasing the power of the one the Tovieti masters had already laid.

The chests were made of wood, and locked, and we used spear-shafts and daggers to pry them open.

The wood screeched, and I shuddered, but none of the sleepers stirred.

The one I opened held all manner of marvelous things: I saw a queen's diadem, a skull, a wand, a stone too large to be precious else it would be worth a kingdom, and many more things. But no mannequins. I tried another, and this one was equally full of wonders, but again, none of the dolls we sought Fingers snapped, and Svalbard was beckoning. I hurried to the chest he stood over, Tenedos behind me, and there were some of the dolls, stuffed unceremoniously inside. I waved my men over, and we hastily began stuffing our packs full. Other chests were opened, and we found more dolls.

I was beginning to hope we'd accomplish our task and escape unseen when a shout echoed through the stone chamber. A half-dressed man stood on a balcony halfway to the roof of the room, crying a warning.

Curd's bowstring tw.a.n.ged, but the shot missed, clattering against stone. Another arrow went after it, truer than the first, taking the man in the stomach. He fell slowly forward, off the rocky ledge, screaming as he pinwheeled down.

The screams woke the sleepers, and the befuddled ones stumbled to their feet.

The last of the dolls went into packs, the packs were shouldered, and we ran for the exit. There was as yet no opposition, other than one or two of the white-clad Tovieti who stumbled into our path and were knocked flying for their pains.

ThenJask Irshad appeared.

He stood on a balcony about thirty feet above the cave floor. He saw us, and screamed in rage. As his shout rang through the chamber, he grew, until he was nearly fifty feet tall, and stepped easily from the balcony to the floor.

"Numantians! The False Seer Tenedos! Now you shall perish, interlopers,Ph'reng! How dare you!

How dare you!"

He picked up a pebble, and cast it at Tenedos. It grew into a mighty boulder, coming directly at the seer. Tenedos spread his hands, chanting, and the boulder was struck aside. It smashed down into Tovieti, and red spurted across white robes.

Tenedos grabbed a spear from one of my soldiers, tapped it against a nearby stalagmite. I could hear bits of his spell over the din: "... change... change now... Free yourselves Free...

Like a dart, like... Strike now Strike hard You are..."

He tossed the spear at Irshad gently, and as he did the stalagmites aroundthe jask snapped off and smashed through the air at him, like hard-thrown javelins. Irshad was crying a coun-terspell, shrinking to his normal size as he did, and a curtain of colors rose around him, and the mineral spears shattered as they struck it.

Irshad began a spell of his own, and otherjasks ran into the chamber, some with wands, some with relics, and their chanting and cries added to the din.

K.

While magic fought magic, I saw something I might do.

"Lancers," I cried. "Follow me.'" I charged forward, and my men came out of their trance. Tovieti rose against us, and we cut our way on, heading for Irshad and the other magicians.

Irshad's spell was building. I heard the roaring swell, the sound a wind makes as it becomes a cyclone, growing louder and louder.

Tovieti guards, still buckling themselves into their armor, rushed forward, blocking our attack on the wizards. At their head was a banner with a device I could not make out, and beside the standard-bearer charged a huge man I instantly recognized, having spent enough time around his elder brother.

Chamisso Fergana was armed with exactly the weapon I'd imagined Achim Fergana would prefer: a single-headed beaked ax. He saw me-I supposeJask Irshad's magic had told him who I was-and cried a challenge, one I was glad to meet.

Legate Baner dashed in front of me, shouting some sort of a war cry. He cut wildly at Fergana, leaving himself open, and Fergana ducked Baner's stroke, hooked Baner in the shoulder with the ax's beak, and yanked the screaming boy toward him. As Baner stumbled forward, Fergana jerked his ax free and sent it cras.h.i.+ng into the back of the legate's head.

Sergeant Vien was there, lunging, missing, and Fergana blocked him hard with a hip and sent the foot soldier stumbling away, and then there was nothing but the two of us.

Fergana held his ax ready in front of him, left hand just below the axhead at shoulder height, right on the haft. He danced back and forth, looking for an opening. I struck for his face, and his ax flashed, almost taking me. I cursed myself for trying for an easy strike, ducked as he cut at me, and struck for his leg, missing again.

We went back on guard, moving, moving. I moved to his weak side, and he turned as I did. I vaguely was aware of Kar-jan and another Lancer guarding my flanks.

The ax came at me once more, and I jumped back, landingf,on some gravel. I almost slipped and went down; Fergana shouted victory and came in for the kill. I knelt, grabbed a handful of gravel, and cast it full into his face, jumping aside as his ax came down. Before he could recover, I struck, this time as I'd been taught, not for the vital parts, but to cripple to make the killing easyv My slash hit his ax handle about halfway up, slicing wood, and then Fergana's fingers. His shout was a roar, and he dropped his ax, but his unwounded hand reached for a long dagger at his side.

But there was no time left for the rebel leader, and my full lunge took him in the throat, the point of my sword coming out the back of his neck. As he went down I pulled my sword free, recovered, saw Sergeant Vien belabored, and killed his opponent. Then I faced the enemy standard-bearer, trying to defend himself with a short sword. I parried once, again, cut his legs from under him, and gave him the deathstroke as he fell. Chamisso Fergana's banner fell, landing a few feet from its dead lord. Troop Guide Bikaner had the standard then, waving it triumphantly in victory.

Over the battle din, I heard the keen asJask Irshad saw his lord's death, and his concentration broke and the wind-song died. Then, over all, the Seer Tenedos's voice boomed: "I have you I have you Your force is mine. Your strength is mine."