Torin - The Luck Of Brin's Five Part 16

"Very reasonable," said Tiath Gargan. "You are a clever child, and bold. Nevertheless I say I do not have your foreigner, and I begin to think I do not have you, either."

"Lost! lost! lost!" said Old Av, cheerfully. "There are children lost every day, in the city."

"Quiet!" snapped the Great Elder. "This business is almost complete."

"Do you have Gordo Beethan?" I asked.( 194 ).

"I am not sure," he replied absently, reading his scroll again. "Do you think I have him?"

I made no reply but asked again. "Do you have Tsorl-U- Tsorl?"

The Great Elder crumpled the scroll in his hand and turned his gaze right on me. He looked pale now, implaca- ble, just as I had seen him at first.

"Remove it, Av," he said. "Give it to Urnat for a short time."Old Av flicked his fingers twice, and the gray and greenomor came through the flower racks from the next room of the sun chamber. She dragged me to my feet and half carried me back between the flowers, then laid me on the figured carpet in the suns.h.i.+ne. The dwarf Urnat had finished dancing and was drinking from a tall gla.s.s cup. I could not tell whether the dwarf was male or female or whether it had any s.e.x; it was, as dwarfs go, very hand- some, with a n.o.ble head. The name Urnat was woven in red on its small green tunic; I remembered that it had been born of a poor mountain Five on Gurth Mountain, not far from Hingstull. It said no word but took up a long cane that stood against a settle and began to thrash me, mainly on my legs, while the omor held me. I buried my face in the carpet and did not cry out although the pain became very bad.

The sun chamber seemed to swim and fade when I came up for a breath. Then I felt a hard hand in my hair, and it was Urnat lifting my head.

"Enough!" it said, in a child's voice. "Remove it!" The omor hoisted me into her brawny arms and carried me out past the female sibs, taking their honey cakes and fruit.

"Playing games . . ." piped the mad one.

The omor carried me back to the corridor and slotted me into a sleep-cell, a different one. I was now, I thought, on the other side of Gordo Beethan. I called out feebly, but the cell rocked and no voice replied and finally I slept.

So I remained, in the power of the Great Elder, so( 195 ).

helpless, so far removed from any hope or comfort for my Family, for Diver or for myself that my situation made me light-headed, almost carefree. I had stepped right off the edge of the world this time and lived in some other place, without day or night, where the only change was the coming and going of the omor with my food tray. I examined my cell and found that it was indeed an apart- ment for a grandee. A sliding panel in the plaster wall revealed a was.h.i.+ng place and a waste closet; there was scented was.h.i.+ng oil and a stack of soft amith leaves for drying or wiping. Gordo Beethan had been removed from his cell, and now I was alone in the row of five sleep cells. I heard the others being put to their proper use by the members of Old Av's family . . . the females came and sang and twittered in their cells until they slept and complained loud enough for me to hear of the fact that one cell was occupied.

The omor who attended me was always the same one, usually dressed in gray and green, who had carried me from the sun chamber. She seldom spoke, and I did not know her name, but she was not an unfriendly jailer. One day, with a solemn face, she asked, "Can you read?"

I told her that I could. She moved her thumb about on the cover of my plate of fish meal and inside ' fastened in the lid, was a bright orange message skeinA was giddy with excitement and mistrust, but the skein was not what I expected ... a message to me, Dorn, from outside. It was some kind of public message, of the kind purveyed at the Friends' Round. The skein read:A Reward of Cloth or Credits Will be paid to any person who can tell truth and relieve sorrow By showing the way or any part of the way To these two Bonded Kin, who are lost.( 196 ).

( 197 ).Garl Brinroyan, The Luck of Brin's Five, A tall one of strong appearance who comes from a distant place and whose eyes are blue.

Dorn Brinroyan, eldest child of Brin's Five, A child thirteen years from its showing, a male, whose eyes are hazel.

In the name of our Great Mother, the North Wind.

Approach the scribe who stands every day in the Friend's Round.I could hardly eat for reading the skein again and again and wondering what the omor meant by showing it to me. I guessed that Vel Ragan was the scribe, and I felt that this was the sort of brave gesture my Family might make. But was it a trap?

Then, when the omor returned, I decided when I looked at her broad face and its unaccustomed furtive look, that it was no trap. The creature had no guile. She was a va.s.sal, serving in a favored place, the very skyhouse of the Great Elder, and she had been tempted by the reward.

"Well?" she whispered. "Answer me one thing-how can a mountain Five have cloth and credits for all comers?"

"We have it!"

"By magic? From your devil?"

"From the Bird Clan," I replied. "For our Luck flies better than any bird, and we have won that great contest."

She swiveled her eyes about, her head and shoulders almost blocking the round doorway. "Write something on the skein so they will know I speak truth."

"No," I said. "I have something better."

"Be quick. Guard changes in a few moments.

I drew out the Bird Clan token from around my neck, bit off clumsily about half a finger length of the blue silk braid, and tied in the dangling threads one symbol of my name. I gave it to the omor and returned the orange message skein.

P.Then she went off, and I refastened the braid of silk with trembling fingers; I was disturbed and frightened, for she had given me hope again. The rocking of the cell would scarcely make me sleep; I listened and waited for hours and then dreamed of orange message skeins strung all about the streets and gardens and skywalks of Rintoul. I remained in this anxious state for two more days, then suddenly in Esder light, the omor and another va.s.sal took me from the sleep-cell and led me away between them.

We descended to the next half-level, by steps; the omor left us, and when I looked back, gave a rueful grin and a wave. I never knew her name and her help came too late for the plans of the Great Elder. But I found out that she did in fact take her information to the Friends' Round and was paid for it; I hoped she was able to buy freedom. Now the other va.s.sal turned aside, opposite five different sleep-cells, and led me into a large place for was.h.i.+ng and dressing, probably used by the servants and va.s.sals. Two servants stood by a pool of water looking helplessly at a figure crumpled on the ground, weeping and s.h.i.+vering.

"We can hardly make it clean . . ." said one. I saw with horror that this creature with the matted hair and begrimed tunic was Gordo Beethan.

"This one is in better shape," said my va.s.sal. He pointed to a basin and a pile of fresh clothes, like the ones the servants wore, of fair quality.

I ran to Gordo and knelt by him. "Let me . I said. I can help him. He is my friend." The servants shrugged and stood watching while I spoke into Gordo's ear, soothing, coaxing.

"Oh, Dorn Brinroyan," he said in a hollow whisper, I thought they had killed you."

"Have courage!" I said. "We will come alive out of this net, I know it. Let me wash your face."

So he bent over the pool, and I sponged his face with the warmed, scented water that even the servants used in this( 198 ).

place. Then the servants came with scissors and cut off his filthy tunic, and he stepped slowly into the pool. He was painfully thin but not marked with cuts or bruises, and the warm water revived him. We brushed at his hair, and the servants dried and dressed him while I washed and put on fresh clothes. I was careful to keep my own good leather boots and my Bird Clan token-which I kept hidden-but I found new clothes of more or less the right size.

There were no mirrors, and I was glad of it. I did not want to see myself in Pentroy clothes; and it was better that Gordo did not see himself either. The Diviner's apprentice was thin and strange; his captivity had done it all; perhaps his brain had a more delicate pattern, being the brain of a Witness. We were led through the was.h.i.+ng room and out at its farthest corner. I was about to ask the va.s.sal where we were going, but the words did not come out; we were on a skywalk in a stiff breeze. Gordo balked; the va.s.sal laughed and prodded us with his short cane. I looked far out over the ocean sea, pearl white in the light of Esder, and stepped out as bravely as I could, tugging Gordo by the wrist.

"Keep looking at the ocean!" I shouted. "Step out for Cullin and Hingstull." Gordo held up his head, and we crossed the skywalk. The air revived him; his eyes were not so shadowed. We were rounded up by the va.s.sal on the other side of the walk, and he led us down a winding basket-way. I asked this time, "Where are we going?"

"To the Sea Flower Room."

"What is there?"

"Oh, it is a small place where the Council meets some- times."

We entered the curtain walls of an old building with only two levels above ground and came to a beautiful, low- ceilinged, round room painted with sea flowers in an ancient style. All round the room was a wicker screen, about the height of a tall person, and set off-center there was a large oval table of wood, with comfortable chairsI.( 199 ).i ranged at the edge. The va.s.sal led us behind the screen and around the room until we were near the table; we sat on a wooden bench, and the va.s.sal went away into the shadows.

"No tricks!" he said. "Listen well . . . hear how the old threads are woven."

We sat drowsily on the bench, and I found myself thinking of food and of my Family, two things never far from my thoughts in captivity. Gordo leaned back and shut his eyes. Before we knew it there were persons sitting at the table; a rustling of garments, hawking and coughing; voices echoed curiously in the chamber. The chairs sc.r.a.ped, and there were greetings; I leaned forward and heard a voice reading a report. It was long and dull, but gradually the sense of it penetrated and I was listening to every word.

The plan was to dredge the Troon north of Otolor; there was a report on the bad state of the river, its snags and sandbanks, which I could have sworn to from my own experience. The sand would be lifted from the river and used to improve river fields and cropland surrounding the villages, including Wellin. The problem was labor and credits to do the work. A contribution was to be asked from every clan, from the town grandees of Otolor and the landholders in the smaller places. This seemed to me an excellent plan, but other voices were protesting or at least raising difficulties.

"Yes, yes, yes," said one voice, "but the Old Bear will have its fur ruffled."

"I can give you workers, but I'm burned if I send credits to the north," said another voice.

"You have been burned before, Margan .

Then I understood at last what was taking place and could not tell whether to laugh or cry. This was the Council of the Five Elders-or some of them at least. The old threads were being woven indeed, right there at the table.

Most puzzling thing- of all, the reader of the report, to whom the other voices seemed to defer, was the Great( 200 ).

Elder himself. When I knew it, the old fear and loathing surged back, but I knew the report was still good, the plan excellent. Tiath Pentroy had been planning wisely for the north and surveying the river at the same time he harried innocent folk and spread his bane.

I could identify the others gradually-Orn Margan with his grumbling voice and the other on that side, only a dim shape through the screen, must be Blind Marl, Marl Udorn, Marl Noonroyan Luntroy, the Luck of Noon's Five. Then there came Old Leeth-though indeed they were all old-Leeth Leethroyan Galtroy, who approved everything the Great Elder spoke, for her clan was closely allied with his own.

"Tiath Pentroy," said Old Leeth now, "you must not keep us waiting, my dear. Bring it out, I pray." There were sounds of interest and approval; the Elders were asking Tiath to show, to display, to set their minds at rest.

"Dear friends," said Tiath in his strong velvety voice, "if I have spoken on this other matter, which is dear to me, it is partly to show that I do not go on a progress through the north in search of wonders. But here is a wonder and before anything is shown I will tell you plainly, as I am a plain speaker, that I need your help. I need a Ruling of Secret Hand and I need it within the hour, if the old threads are to remain unbroken."

Orn Margan coughed and replied uneasily, "There are rumors enough in Rintoul. What will you do if we give you this ruling?"

"I will keep Torin from danger!" said Tiath.

"Are we talking about the same thing?" asked Blind Marl querulously. "Is this Tiath's devil?"

"Blind Marl," said Tiath, "make use of your vaunted insight now and take this matter seriously."

"I would be blind indeed," snapped Marl, "to give a Ruling of Secret Hand to a Strangler!"

"Easy now . . ." rumbled Orn Margan. "Tiath Pentroy( 201 ).

what do we have here? I will not easily believe thatanother race has reached Torin from the void.

"We must believe it!" said Tiath. "But the danger will be averted if I get my ruling."

"One devil . . ." said Leeth Galtroy. "It could be put down in a moment. Is it an intelligent being? Does it have a shape fit to look upon?"

"More or less," said Tiath, "and its personal threat is negligible. I am talking of the security of the world and of the clans. Orn Margan, would you not be the last to precipitate another clan war? This creature has already travelled the length of Torin and been in certain contact with exiles and magicians."

"You mean Nantgeeb," said Blind Marl, "but this is your enemy, Tiath, not mine."

"Arr, I can hardly believe all this," growled the Peace- maker. "How did it come? How could it pa.s.s among us? Is it so dangerous and yet so harmless? Bring out your devil!"

"No!" squeaked Leeth. "Are we protected? They say its eyes are blue. Let the Great Elder have his ruling."

"Give me my ruling now ... lest its enchantment work on you when you see it!" said Tiath, almost playfully.

"Oh if we must . Orn Margan replied, humoring the Great Elder.

I was at the screen now, straining to see if Diver would be brought in.

"Dorn," said Gordo in a firm whisper. "Your Luck is close by!" His head was erect and his eyes blazed in the shadow.- It meant that his powers were returning. "Back,"

he said. "They are coming to bring us forth."

I had returned to the bench when two va.s.sals came from our left and bade us follow to a door in the screen. Then we came out into the lovely swimming light of the Sea Flower Room, which filtered down from gla.s.s panels in the walls which concealed oil lamps. There sat the Five-or four of them at any rate-looking exactly like their voices.( 202 ).

1A, ~ -."These are two country children," said Old Leeth. "Are they the witnesses you mean? Child, what is your name?"

"Dorn Brinroyan, Highness," I replied. "Of Brin's Five and Gwin's blood and the distant mothering of Abirin and Felm. I come from Hingstull Mountain." The three elders laughed indulgently at this, as grown-ups do to hear a lesson well-learned; it made me furious and I determined that they would laugh no more.

"How came you here, child?" asked Blind Marl, reaching a hand in my direction.

I came a few steps forward and took his hand, gripped it, as is customary when speaking to blind persons. "Truly, Highness, I was set upon in the streets of Rintoul and taken, together with Gar] Brinroyan, our Luck, by a Gulgarvor, set upon us by the Great Elder, Tiath Gargan."

This time no one laughed, only the Great Elder smiled a little.

"You speak without respect!" cried Leeth. "Wretched child. Have you used this devil as your 'Luck' because it is so ugly?"

"I speak truth, Highness. Escott Garl Brinroyan is our Luck. We do not find him ugly. He comes from a distant place, but I swear by our Mother, the North Wind, he comes In peace."

Orn Margan turned to Gordo Beethan. "What is this other youngster. Speak up, skinny one!"

"I am Gordo Beethan, apprentice Diviner out of Cullin,"

the reply rang out strongly.

"Have you seen this devil?"

"I have seen it once, Highness, and it is a tall, well-made, thinking creature, in everything like a Moruian."

"Has it any magical powers?" put in Old Leeth.

"None, Highness. But you should ask it yourself-it is within earshot, behind the screen at your back, where the yellow sea flower is painted."

Old Leeth spun around in her chair, and the other EldersA.

im( 203 ).

reacted almost as strongly, protesting to Tiath Pentroy. He rapped the table with a piece of rock shaped like an egg.

"Do not be afraid," he said, "but give me my ruling. Let us deal with the creature at our good pleasure."

He gave a signal and another door opened in the screen.

Two va.s.sals brought in Diver; he was naked except for a breech-clout and barefoot, his wrists tied with strongest cord. There was a gasp from the watchers; he had not been able to shave for five or six days, and a thick black growth of hair covered the lower part of his face. His pale skin and body hair made him look outlandish. Two va.s.sals stood at my back but they were unprepared; I dived forward, under the table, shot between the chairs and long clothes of the elders and ran to Diver's side.

"Have they hurt you?" I gasped. "Oh Diver .

"Courage!" he said, and the flash of his blue eyes comforted me.

The va.s.sals struck at me with their canes. "Leave the child alone!" said Diver."Great Wind!" exclaimed Blind Marl, "it speaks like a person!

"Approach then," said the Great Elder genially, "child and devil both. How are you faring, Scott Gale?"

"I am cold, Highness, without my clothes."