Dark Lord of Derkholm (11 page)

“Not so much small as young,” Mara told Elda. “You are only ten, love, and I want you to come over to me with Callette. And why should Lydda do everything here? What's wrong with you, Don, or you, Blade?”

Don sat with a raw chop halfway to his beak, Blade sat with a cooked one on the end of his fork. They exchanged looks of panic and consternation.

“Or Kit?” added Mara.

“May I consider?” Shona asked rather hectically. “Perhaps I'll come when Callette's finished—and there isn't a piano in Aunt's house, is there?”

“Yes, there is,” said Mara. She got up. “That's settled then. I'll expect you and Callette and Elda the day after tomorrow. You're going to love my pink embroidered hangings!”

Breaking up the family, too, Derk thought miserably as Mara rushed away.

Blade, fairly naturally, tried to rush away, too, as soon as supper was over. But Shona deftly seized him by one arm and dragged him through to the kitchen, where Elda was swilling plates with careless abandon.

“Blade, you really have to help me
do
something!” Shona whispered. “Haven't you
noticed?
”

“Noticed what?” Blade asked.

“Mum and Dad. They're terminally not getting on.”

“They're always quarreling. You worry too much,” Elda said, shoving three wet plates into the rack.

“Wash those again,” Shona said automatically. “No, that's just the trouble. They're
not
quarreling. Dad should have exploded just now about the money, and he hardly said a word.”

Blade sighed, knowing that his carefree time was over. “I see what you mean.”

U
MRU
'
S PRIESTLY KINGDOM
was north of Derkholm, adjoining King Luther's. Derk, riding Beauty, descended over the Temple of Anscher toward midday, dazzled by the sun on the huge golden domes. Other domes of other gods caught the sun, too, all over the city, but Umru's temple to Umru's god was the biggest. Anscher must surely look kindly on a high priest who had done so much for him, Derk thought. Perhaps Umru could persuade Anscher to show himself to Pilgrims. It was worth a try, anyway.

“Bhrright!” Beauty remarked as she wheeled down toward the main courtyard.

“It surely is,” Derk agreed. “Umru has to find something to do with his money.” He sighed as Beauty descended. He had been trying hard not to think of money, or of how much Mara might have borrowed, or of the mermaid daughter they would never have now. Not thinking of these things left a cold emptiness somewhere in the middle of his mind. I must think of an entirely different creature, he told himself as Beauty's hooves touched the ground.

Willing, fanatical-looking men rushed to look after Beauty. More of them rushed to conduct Derk to the presence of Umru. He was handed over to a covey of acolytes, who handed him to priests, who handed him in turn to more priests, who led him through long upstairs cloisters painted with gold leaf to where Umru was waiting, smiling, in an empty, sun-filled room.

“You could have landed on my balcony if I had known your horse had wings,” Umru said to him. “Come. Sit.” He led Derk to a couple of thronelike chairs.

This room was only empty after a fashion, Derk thought, settling among carved cedarwood and gold. The floor was a pattern of blocks of wood, variously scented and colored. Astoundingly beautiful silk rugs lay here and there upon it. The ceiling was a masterpiece of marble carved to resemble a tree in bloom, and the many narrow window frames were like trees, too, with fruit. In between, the walls were inlaid with more masterpieces in colored stone. But it was still an austere room, fit for a priest. Umru was a funny mixture, Derk thought. His vestments looked simple, but the cost of them would buy Derkholm several times over. Derk suddenly noticed that his own boots had not been cleaned after milking. And one of his cuffs was fraying.

“I've come to ask you to help me,” he said, tucking the offensive cuff under and doubling his feet back until the boots were under the sumptuous chair.

“And you can help me, my friend,” said Umru. “As you must have seen from your black book and your maps and lists, the battles are scheduled to take place this year just beyond this city of mine, all over my fields and farms, all over this land that I have worked so hard to make prosper. What am I to do?”

“I'm not sure there's anything you can do,” Derk said.

“One battle a week for the next three months,” Umru added. “Everything will be trampled to mud by next spring.”

“Yes, I'm sorry about that,” Derk said, “but I
am
good at making things grow. I'll come back when the tours are over and make sure you have some crops at least.”

“Penury and disaster will ensue,” said Umru. “No seeds will be sown—”

“Oh, no, it won't be that bad,” Derk assured him. “If you tell the people to plant seeds, anyway, I'll make as many grow as I can.”

“My people, too, will be trampled underfoot, the women raped, the infants slain. There will be no one to sow the seeds,” Umru proclaimed.

“But,” Derk objected, “you must have
hundreds
of cellars and crypts for people to hide in!”

Umru sighed. “My friend,” he said, in a noticeably more normal manner, “I think you are not following my drift. If the Dark Lord wishes, he can surely oblige a friend by moving the battles a few miles—say, twenty miles—bringing the site south of the mountains that border my country.”

“Not easily,” Derk hastened to explain. “You see, the routes have been very carefully interlocked to bring several tours to the same battle—”

Umru sighed again. “How much?”

“Eh?” Derk found his fingers fiddling with the frayed ends of his cuff. He let go quickly. “If you're saying what I think you are, then the answer's—” He stopped short. Money would be very welcome, money to pay that fine, money to cover the huge sum Mara had to have borrowed in order to pay everyone in the village. On the other hand, he needed a god, or no one would get any money at all. And he needed Umru's help for that. “I don't take bribes,” he said.

Umru's face dropped forward onto his stack of double chins. He looked so thoroughly depressed that Derk added, “But, as I was going to say, I'll see if I can shift the battles south for nothing. It won't be easy, because they've got everyone converging on you this year—you're supposed to hold the final clue to my weakness—and Barnabas is setting up the main camp for me. I'll have to give him the wrong map reference, tell him I made a mistake or something. But I'll do what I can.”

Umru raised his face from his chins and looked deeply at Derk. “You're an honest man.”

“Well, not—” Derk shifted in his carved chair until it creaked.

“And I admire you for it. With sadness,” Umru said. “I really do have a great deal of money. You needn't do it for nothing.”

“I will. I've said I'll
try,
” Derk protested. “After all, I may not be able to do it.”

“
Very
honest,” sighed Umru. “So. You said I could help you. How?”

With an uneasy feeling that Umru might have been readier to help him if he
had
accepted a bribe, Derk leaned forward in the carved chair and explained about Mr. Chesney's idea for a novelty. And it was worse than Derk had expected. As soon as he mentioned Anscher, Umru's head tilted back and his mouth became a fat, grim line. His large face became more and more stony the longer Derk talked. “It was in the contract, you see,” Derk explained. “I know the contract was drawn up when both of us were only children, but Mr. Chesney regards it as binding.
None
of us gets any money this year if we don't get a god to manifest.”

“Not even for money,” Umru said, very upright in his chair. “It is odd how every man has his sticking point, Wizard Derk. You have told me yours. You have just met mine. I have done many things for Mr. Chesney, for money, but this is one thing I will not,
can
not do. We do not command the gods. They command us. Any attempt to coerce the gods is vile.”

This man is truly a devout priest after all! Derk thought. He was completely sure Umru meant what he said. “I see. I accept that,” he said hastily. “But perhaps you could give me a hint about some way I could fake—”

“You don't see at all, Wizard,” Umru interrupted, “or you would not ask. No one who has known a god could even speak of faking. Let me tell you. I was not always as you see me now. I was once a slender young boy, the youngest in my family, and my family was not rich. We lived by the mountains, a long way south of this city. My father had a few cows, some goats, and a flock of geese. I was only entrusted with the geese. If I lost those geese, you see, the family would not starve, and I was considered too young to watch the animals. And one day I drove my geese out to feed on a certain swelling green hill. I was sitting there as carelessly as you sit in that chair now, thinking of nothing much, rather bored, but with no ambition in the world except perhaps to guard the cows for once, when Anscher appeared to me. As close as I am to you, Wizard, Anscher stood before me. And he was a god, Wizard. There was absolutely no doubting it, though it is not a thing I can describe. He smiled at me. He never even asked my name. He never asked me to do anything for him. He just stood in front of me and said, ‘I am Anscher, your god,' and he smiled.”

Umru stared out into the empty room. Derk could see tears in his eyes.

“The glory of that appearance,” Umru said after a moment, “has been with me every moment of every day, of every year of my priesthood, through everything I have done. I have always hoped he would appear again, but he never has, Wizard. He never has. When I first became high priest and started to raise Anscher above other gods, I made that hill where I saw him into a sanctuary to him. I had an altar set up there. Now I think that was presumptuous. By doing that, I tried to command Anscher to appear to me again, and that was wrong. He will not come to me again now. I am too proud, too old, too fat. No, he will not come.”

Umru's voice faded away, and he sat staring, with tears running down his great cheeks. Derk watched uncomfortably. He sat and watched, and Umru sat and stared for so long that Derk began to wonder whether he should simply get up and tiptoe away. But Umru suddenly smiled, wiped the tears off with the sleeve of his expensive gown, and said, “You know, I think it's lunchtime. Will you join me in some lunch, Wizard?”

Derk was thoroughly unnerved. “I—I'd be honored,” he managed to say.

Umru clapped his chubby hands. Instantly a group of young boys, who had obviously been waiting outside for the signal, came hurrying in with a folding table, beakers, jugs, plates, and trays of food. The trays were probably gold. The glassware was exquisite crystal. The food smelled wonderful. Derk had forgotten that the worshipers of Anscher never ate meat, but the various dishes were so beautifully cooked that he hardly noticed they were all made of vegetables. He slipped a particularly fine pasty into his pocket to show Lydda. And when the boys raced in again with bowls heaped with fruit, Derk wanted to take the strangest sort for Elda, but he did not quite like to, not after the pasty.

“Try one of these, Wizard,” Umru said. “You won't have met this fruit before. I bought them off one of Mr. Chesney's tour agents; we often do little deals on the side, you know. She called them oranges, I believe.”

“They are,” said Derk. “Orange, I mean.”

Umru laughed. “You peel the outside off,” he explained. “Like this. Then the inside splits into pieces, just as if one of their gods had designed them for people to eat. Remarkable, aren't they?”

“Mmm.” Derk was not sure he liked the sharp, definite taste, but he was sure Elda would.

“Take another home with you,” Umru said generously. “I have two dozen. I only paid four gold for them, too.” While Derk weighed the orange globe in his hand, thinking the thing was rather like one of Callette's early gizmos, Umru added, “They have pips. The young woman told me that they grow well in warm, dry conditions. I think they grow like apples, on trees.”

“Ah.” Derk looked up to see Umru smiling meaningly.

“I would buy as many as you could grow,” Umru said. He clapped his hands again, and the boys brought water and cloths. As Derk washed the pungent juice off his fingers, he realized that he would only need a couple of trees, at two gold for a dozen fruit, to earn the money for that fine. But they might take years to grow. Umru looked sideways at him as they dried their hands, almost uncertainly. “I, er, have another small favor to ask, Wizard, something more on the lines of what you usually do for me.”

“Ask away,” said Derk.

“I need forty or so newly severed heads to go on stakes all over the city when the tours come through,” Umru explained. “This year I am the kind of priest who beheads heretics. Could you—”

“No trouble at all,” said Derk.

Umru looked so relieved that Derk saw the man had been truly worried in case his refusal to help with the god had annoyed Derk into refusing to work magic for him.