The Immortality Option Part 16

"Torn down, it was. Dozers and icemovers came out of the hills and swept it aside-all the houses, everything. Now it's being replanted as a forest."

"But not any kind of forest that you've ever seen," a rob who had stopped with her to rest put in.

"The machines are all being laid even-s.p.a.ced in straight rows. The pipes are in trenches-all paralleled and right-angled, regular and neat. It ain't natural, what's going on."

"It's the Lifemaker's wrath come down on us all!" another worob wailed, joining them. "The priests were right. We let our minds be poisoned by heretics. First Kleippur in Carthogia. Then we let Nogarech take over this country. We were warned. The vengeance is upon us! We'll all melt and burn!"

Others took up the lament.

"Praise be to the Lifemaker. We were led astray."

"May He preserve the king! Bring back the king."

"Preserve Eskenderom and Frennelech!"

Thirg stepped back and turned to Brongyd. "What do you make of it all?" he asked.

"I can make nothing of any of it," the naturalist replied. "Entire areas of the forest seem to be reorganizing themselves according to a common plan. It is as if some strange, unworldly influence were a.s.serting itself, taking over the whole scheme of things and redirecting it to some sinister end of its own."

"Well, the only unworldly influence we've 'ad around 'ere lately is them b.l.o.o.d.y Lumians," Mordrandeclared. "Weren't there talk goin' round about that bein' why they were chasin' about like fools after Eskenderom instead o' chuckin' 'im in t' methlake along wi' Frennelech an' t' rest of 'em-because they wanted 'im to 'elp 'em tame t' forests? Well, it looks ter me like maybe they've gone an' done it. Don't yer reckon?"

Thirg hoped not. If the designs of the merchant Lumians who wanted the forests tamed had advanced this much while Thirg and Brongyd were in hiding, it could only mean that the wrong faction on Lumia had prevailed, and the inquirer Lumians and other friends of the Wearer who defended Kleippur had been vanquished. Yet the great dragon that was bringing warriors, which had been the Wearer's main cause for worry, could never have reached Robia so soon. So how could the situation have altered this drastically in so short a time?

The three hastened on their way, past the column of plodding figures and creaking wagons, in the direction of Perga.s.sos.

Meanwhile, near a bridge on the outskirts of Perga.s.sos, a vaguely bathtub-shaped section of metal casing b.u.mped its way ash.o.r.e just above where an a.s.sortment of chutes and conduits deposited garbage from the city onto an outflowing conveyor. The robot inside, clutching a length of scratched and dented tubing, sat looking around disbelievingly, astounded to have completed the journey in one piece.

Groork climbed out and collected together what remained of his belongings. The supplies were gone. He had broken the sword prying his craft loose from a jam where a tributary entered from a grove of plate benders and part of the feed hoist had broken down, and had lost the lance in an encounter with something that screeched and swung down at him on a power vine. But he still had the spare clothes and a few tools.

Then, as he had been instructed by the Lumian-Who-Heals-Hearers, he spoke with his internal voice the sign to alert the ear that would always be listening inside the Lumians' camp back at Mena.s.sim.

The response came back as a mystical voice speaking inside his head: "SORRY, n.o.bODY HERE RIGHT NOW. LEAVE MESSAGE AFTER BEEP.".

So much for "Our guys'll be listening for you all the way," Groork thought glumly. He sent the code announcing his arrival anyway. Then he turned from the river, climbed the ice wall forming its bank, and headed toward the center of the city.

34.

Strange things were happening all over Kroaxia and, according to reports from farther afield, beyond Kroaxia's borders also. The people were terrified, blaming it all on the heresies that had taken over Carthogia and the new regime's dealings with the Lumians. Nogarech's popularity had declined to the extent that he had become a virtual prisoner in his own palace. The time was ripe, Eskenderom's advisers agreed, for the former leader to regain his power. If he did it now and through his own efforts, without waiting for the great dragon to arrive with its Lumian army, his stature in the eyes of the Kroaxians could only grow and his bargaining position with the Lumians would become that much stronger. So Eskenderom and Frennelech had returned secretly to Perga.s.sos to be ready to seize the moment. They were concealed in rooms in the friary adjoining the former Palace of the High Holy One, which Nogarech-foolishly in the opinion of his many opponents-had allowed the priests from the previous regime to continue occupying instead of executing them.

From a chamber of ice walls and somber ecclesiastical furnis.h.i.+ngs, Eskenderom scowled out through a window overlooking the rear courtyard. A scroll of etched foil lay on a stand beside him, carrying a report of the latest happenings on the outskirts of the city and beyond.

"What kind of Lumian treachery do these tidings augur now?" he muttered. "People flee their razed villages, while the forests are torn down. Had I heeded the Lumians' words and waited in Serethgin for their army to restore me, to what devastated kingdom would I have returned to be restored? Does thisfabled Lumian dragon army exist, in truth, at all? Or was it, from the beginnings of our dialogue, a phantasm concocted to distract us while they pervert to their own designs the forest powers they have always coveted?"

Privately, he had no doubt that the Lumian army did exist. But he suspected Frennelech, the high priest, of being a party to some secret plot with the Lumians to bring him down. It seemed to Eskenderom that the Lumians didn't need his command of Kroaxia's soldiery to recruit robeing labor to their ends so much as they needed Frennelech's power to direct their minds. Eskenderom's usefulness was perhaps, therefore, temporary-to maintain a presence of force until the Lumians had established sufficient strength of their own. The latest news suggested that those designs were more advanced than he had been led to believe.

Frennelech answered from the far side of the room, where he was pacing by the door. "Verily would I agree that no dragon-bringer-of-armies idles at Lumia. For does it not sit beyond the sky above Robia, and are its emissaries not erecting their camp outside Perga.s.sos even as we speak? Is it by coincidence that the forests go into upheaval as these events come to pa.s.s? Surely not. Yet it was not to me that any Lumians imparted foreknowledge of such intents."

He had suspected Eskenderom of involvement in some private intrigue with the Lumians for a long time. Since their arrival, the Lumians had maintained their main camp at Carthogia, dealing openly with Kleippur, whose philosophy and teachings would put an end to Frennelech and the power of the priests.

He could see now that the encouragement given him by the Lumians to exhort his supporters into rising as the militant Avengers had been a ploy to lure them into being destroyed by the Lumian dragon soldiers. Now Frennelech's defenders were scattered, and Eskenderom was getting ready to be reinstated by a Lumian-supported invasion from Carthogia. And the latest news suggested that those designs were more advanced than he had been led to believe.

Eskenderom wheeled from the window. "What art thou saying? ThatI was privy to some compact in this? Is this some holy derangement that afflicts thee? Would the king skulk out of sight like some beggar at a banquet in this dreary hostel of priests while foreigners restore my throne? Tell me that it was notthee, who now admits his masters' dragon to this sky, who sold thy hold over Kroaxian souls for alliance in the alien design."

Frennelech's facial pattern radiated outrage. "I?What gibbering royal delirium is this? Kleippur's agents undermine the faith. The Avengers thatthy accomplices had me raise lie strewn in ruin and wreckage."

" 'Tismy service that is rendered redundant now if the Lumian army indeed rides with the dragon-beyond-the-sky!" Eskenderom shouted, clanging a finger against his own chest. "The Lumians talk of Eskenderom, but it is Frennelech whom they will restore. Dost thou take me for as big a fool as those who would trade their worldly worth for thy fantasies of eternity?"

"Ithe fool. Thou the befooler!" Frennelech shouted back, pointing accusingly.

"Even now wilt thou not admit to thy complicity?Thou hymn-droning fraud! " Eskenderom shrieked.

"Thou crowned cozener!" Frennelech howled back at him.

They advanced menacingly to meet face to face in the center of the room.

"Lackey of aliens!"

"Hireling of exploiters!"

Then they stopped abruptly and stared at the door, both realizing at the same moment that somebody was knocking discreetly. "Enter," Eskenderom commanded.

It was Mormorel, Eskenderom's senior counselor, who had accompanied them from Serethgin.

"The mood of the people abandons Nogarech ever more swiftly as fugitives from Lumian mischief arrive from afar," he announced. "The moment of rest.i.tution approaches. The council should complete its final plans."

The king and high priest looked at him, their animosity of a moment ago forgotten. If the city wasturning away from its flirtation with the Lumians and was ready to ditch Nogarech, their first priority must be to combine forces to take it back. They could fight over the spoils later.

"Summon them," Eskenderom said.

Mormorel nodded. "Also, it is reported that one who fled to Carthogia and was instrumental in thy Majesty's misfortunes has returned. Groork, the Hearer-brother of the inquirer into dark arts who also enlisted in the service of Kleippur-who was also known as Enlightener, has been seen again in the city."

"Him!" Eskenderom and Frennelech shouted, both at the same time. It was the Enlightener who had brought the new religion that had been the downfall of both of them and had put Nogarech in their place. His execution then had been averted only by Lumian interference.

"He conceals his presence in peasant garb and has been heard making inquiries about the affairs and whereabouts of thy Majesty and the High Holy One."

"Have our agents apprehend him and bring him here," Eskenderom ordered, his coolant vanes quivering. He glanced pointedly at Frennelech. "Then, maybe, before we consign him to the reduction furnaces permanently this time, our inquisitors might determine finally who is to be the Lumians' true benefactor in Kroaxia."

"Ee, it's been a while since I 'ad a pint that tasted as good as this. Gets right into yer joints, does all this walkin'." Mordran raised a mug of chilled solvent and drew a swig into his cooling system. "It makes me feel like I'm back in t' old days wi' t' mob-when we used ter spend 'arf our lives sloggin' back and forward across t' b.l.o.o.d.y Meracasine desert wi' pike an' pack. I'm glad that's all over now, anyroad."

Thirg looked around the tavern from the corner table at which the three were sitting. Next to him, Brongyd poured a solution of paw-plating salts into a dish for Rex and Duke, who were lying in the s.p.a.ce beneath the stairs. The inn was typical of establishments in the central market area of the city, with the usual mix of merchants, laborers, stall holders, and farmers-their regular number swollen by the present influx from outside Perga.s.sos. Mordran had been a regular here when he had been posted to the city in his days with the Kroaxian army.

Most of the talk around them was about the change afoot in the forests. Some thought it the work of the Lumians, but the majority, like the villagers whom Thirg had spoken to on the road into the city, feared it was a portent of divine retribution. Many people confused the two and thought the Lumians were supernatural envoys sent by the Lifemaker. Kleippur and Nogarech were being blamed for it all, and the latter had apparently retreated, with the supporters and guards still loyal to him, into the palace and its citadel. An ugly mood was building, and agitators were out preaching that by getting rid of Nogarech now and expelling the Lumians from their new camp being constructed near Perga.s.sos, Kroaxia could redeem itself and normality would return.

"Are you still an avoider of city life?" Thirg asked Brongyd as they sat, taking in the bustle and chatter.

"As much as you yourself, Thirg," Brongyd replied. "My work has always kept me in the forests, and I've no complaint at that. Solitude has no loneliness that compares with being alone among strangers.

But despite the troubled times, I sense a betterment in the life here since my last visit. Although that was so long ago now that the difference could be in my changing memories."

"No, you remember truly," Thirg said. "No longer do penitents etch their skins with acids or expose themselves to public torments to cleanse their imagined guilt, as if the Lifemaker who supposedly endowed them with the wonder of a living body would be favorably impressed by such mistreating of it.

There are no terrors visited by the Royal Guard. Although Nogarech has not yet brought his rule to the stage of Kleippur's, the improvement in the lot of the people is unmistakable."

Mordran leaned forward and spoke cautioningly, s.h.i.+elding his words with a hand. At the same time he kept his eyes on the general throng, as if watching for somebody. "I know what thee's sayin'. But I don't think it's a good idea t' be 'eard sayin' it just now, wi' things the way they are, if ye know what I mean.""You're right, of course," Thirg said, and fell silent.

Mordran sat up as the landlord of the tavern appeared from the back, carrying a tray. He was of heavily reinforced build, with a ruddy copper-tinted face, thickly plated around the chin, and wearing a cord jerkin with a striped ap.r.o.n. Mordran caught him lightly by the elbow as he pa.s.sed.

"All right, all right," the landlord said without looking down at them. "I've only got one pair of hands. I'll get back to you when I've got rid of this."

"Yer mean ter say that's all the welcomin' back I get, Neskal?" Mordran said. "I've a good mind ter b.u.g.g.e.r off an' find somewhere else ter get meself a drink. 'Taint like what I remember."

The landlord stopped dead a pace farther on and turned. "Never!" he exclaimed. "Not Mordran!

By the Lifemaker, it is!" He came back to the table, set the tray down on a shelf nearby, and pumped Mordran's hand. "How long has it been now? . . . Oh, I don't know. You're looking well, though. Civvy life must be doing you good."

"Can't complain, yer know. . . . Well, yer can if yer want, I suppose, but n.o.body wants t' 'ear it, does they?"

"And Yula? How's she doing?"

"Ah, she's awright. Off visitin' at t' moment. She were when we set out, anyroad. Took us longer'n we thought ter get 'ere. It's a right mess, in't it, all these goin's on."

"Terrible, terrible," Neskal agreed. "There's going to be trouble here in the city. You'll see. . . . And these are friends of yours, I take it."

Mordran introduced Thirg and Brongyd and said they needed a bit of help. Before he could go into detail, however, a voice from a group across the room called out, "Landlord, are those our drinks there?

Come on with it. Save the chat till later."

"I'll be back in a second," Neskal said, picking up the tray and hurrying over.

Brongyd had been glancing surrept.i.tiously in the other direction. As Neskal moved away, he leaned closer to Thirg and murmured, "Don't look around too quickly, but there's a man over by the door who seems to be staring at you in an odd kind of way. Do you know him?"

"Oh?" Thirg looked the other way, then after a few seconds leaned back on the bench, picked up his mug, and made a pretense of letting his eyes wander absently about the room.

"By the door," Brongyd said again, keeping his eyes averted. "Thin, weaselly-looking fellow. With the black hood thrown back."

After a few seconds, letting his gaze travel on, Thirg said, "Yes, I see him. I don't recognize him immediately. But you know, there's something familiar about that face, all right."

Then Neskal came back to their table with his tray emptied, pulled a stool across the aisle, and sat down.

"Yer'd think they 'adn't drunk anythin' fer a bright, wouldn't yer, some of 'em, the way they carry on," Mordran commented.

"Ah, well, as long as they pay. That's what I'm here for," Neskal said. He let his voice drop. "Now, Mordran, you said that your two friends here need help of some kind."

"Aye." Mordran explained briefly that Thirg and Brongyd had escaped after being taken captive by the Avengers and now needed to get to Carthogia. Their hope had been to find a way of gaining access to Nogarech. "I thought I might 'ave found one or two o' t' old lads from the palace guard who'd let 'em inside ter see t' chamberlain, but none of 'em's around," Mordran concluded.

By this time Neskal was looking nervous. "It's not a good time to be heard voicing sympathies for Carthogia," he said. "And I'm not sure I want to hear any myself. Maybe Kleippur and the Lumians are bringing down the wrath, the way people are saying. Who am I to know?"

"I'm not askin' ye ter take sides," Mordran said. "Just tell me if any o' t' palace guards still come in 'ere, that's all. I'll talk to 'em meself from there."

"I haven't seen any for a while," Neskal answered slowly. "Probably the ones you'd want are shutup inside with Nogarech. So I don't know what help he'd likely be to you, anyway."

Mordran sighed and sat back heavily. He turned toward Thirg. " 'E's right, y' know. I reckon we can count Nogarech out o' this." He studied them thoughtfully for a few seconds. "Could t' two o' yers make it on yer own, d' yer think?"

"I've ridden to Carthogia before," Thirg replied. "Not comfortably, I'll grant. But I got there."

"It'd 'ave ter be without escorts. An' then there's all this queer stuff a-goin' on in t' forests,"

Mordran reminded them.

"The way to Carthogia lies above the forests. It's unlikely that we would be affected," Thirg replied.

"I'd take my chances," Brongyd said. "Would it be any more chancy than staying here?" Which summed up the situation adequately. Mordran turned back to Neskal.

"'Oo does thee know who's got 'orses?" he asked. "There won't be any problem about payin'."

Neskal fidgeted uncomfortably. "Let's not talk here," he said. "There's someone I know that I'll have join us out back."

He rose from the stool and beckoned for Mordran to follow. As he got up, Mordran said to the others, " 'Ang on 'ere while I sort this out. I'll see about gettin' us somewhere ter stay tonight, too, while I'm at it. This place looks a bit full up. If 'e can't take us, I'll try an' find out about somewhere else." They nodded. Mordran followed Neskal through a curtained doorway to the rear rooms of the inn.

After a short silence Brongyd turned to Thirg. "I was thinking about this new camp that they say the Lumians are erecting here, near Perga.s.sos," he said. "Could we not go there, Thirg? If you are a friend of the Lumians, would they not help?"

"I wondered the same," Thirg said. "But the tribes of the Lumians are as many and as divided as those of Robia. Why would these choose Perga.s.sos as their station? Surely because they are of the persuasion that would recall Eskenderom. And if that is so, we would as well entrust ourselves to the protection of the Redeeming Avengers."

"Hmm. True." Brongyd sat back in a way that said, "well, it had been a thought."

Rex stiffened and growled in the recess below the stairs. It was Thirg's first indication that the weaselly-faced man with the black hood had come across from the front door and was sliding onto the stool Mordran had vacated. Resting an elbow on the table, he leaned across and whispered, "Is it not Thirg, the Asker, who once lived as a recluse in the forest?"

Thirg eyed him suspiciously. "I am the Asker who asks who it is who wishes to know," he answered.

The man looked at him full-face. "Dost thou not remember the ice mason whose cousin was the housekeeper for Lofbayel the mapmaker, whom thy testimony before the high council once saved from the Holy Prosecutor?"

Thirg stared. Then his expression lightened. "Ah, yes, of course!"

"Elmon, the name is, sir."

"That's right. I do remember now. Elmon. Are you well?"

Elmon, however, had evidently not come across just to reminisce. He went on, speaking low and urgently. "Thou hadst a brother, Groork by name, a hearer, who fled from Frennelech, imputed as a heretic, only to return as the Enlightener who hastened his persecutor's ruin."