Four Lords of Diamond - Book 1 (19 page)

A few hours after darkness on the second night we made the rendezvous point. Until now I'd left myself entirely in Father Bronx's hands, but now I wanted information.

Who are these—savages? I asked. And what can they do for us?

Cal, the savages in these parts—in fact, in most parts I've seen—aren't savage, except to members of a Keep, he told me. They are the misfits. People with the power but untrained, people with no power but determined never to work the fields their whole lives, renegades, political outcasts like yourself, and of course their children. I picked this group because of its relative power. They are strong and highly skilled, if somewhat anarchistic.

I thought you said that wouldn't work here, I taunted, feeling good that I'd scored at least once.

Oh, it doesn't, he responded airily. Not on a large scale, anyway. Not even on a small one, really, but people can be made to
think
they're in an anarchy if that's what they want. On a
very
small scale they can be truly savages, of course—but they meet the fate of all true savages. They die young and usually violently. No, these folks have an organization and powerful people, but they are, ah, a bit unorthodox.

Father Bronz crossed himself when he said that last, and it was such an interesting reaction I had to press it. I'd seen him do that only a very few tunes, such as just before and just after the roadblock.

These people are dangerous, then?

He nodded. Very. You might say that we—that is, they and I—are in the same business. Competitors.

Another church?

He chuckled. In a sense, yes. They are the opposition, my lad, and you don't know how it galls me to have to use them, let alone trust them. They are witches, you see, and worship Satan.

I had to laugh.
Witches?
Oh, come on, now.

Witches, he acknowledged gravely. I don't know why that should surprise you. Let's just say you were of a magical or romantic bent. Take a look at Lilith then. A spoiled Eden. Now, instead of Warden organisms and mathematical constructs, chemical catalysts and the other stuff of science we take so much for granted, replace it with the word
magic.
The upper classes, those with the power, then become magicians, wizards, sorcerers. Utilizing the Warden organism as you tell me you did, on that chair for example. A thing of nature? How about a 'magic spell' instead?
You
know what runs this world, and how, and / know, but do most people? Without that knowledge, isn't it a world of wizards and magic spells?

I saw his point, although it didn't cheer me. So we're being placed in the hands of people who believe all this?

He nodded. So watch your step. They're doing this mostly because it gives 'em a kick to have a priest ask a favor of Satanists. But
they
believe it, and they don't have much of a sense of humor about ft, either. Some of 'em can fry you, too, so watch that sharp tongue.

I shut up. Whatever craziness these people be
lieved, no matter how absurd it might be, they were the only hope I had. We waited for the Satanist party.

They appeared without our having ever detected their presence. At one moment we were just lounging by the cart, relaxing and hoping that one of Lilith's frequent and violent thunderstorms, which was looming close on the horizon, would not hit where we were when I was suddenly aware of a number of people standing around us. I jumped up and turned in fighting posture, but quickly relaxed when Bronz seemed less concerned.

They were all women, about a dozen of them, some with the look of the civilized worlds about them—but certainly different-looking in this context Their hair was cut very, very short, and then* faces and skins had that rough, weathered look pawns get, although these women were not pawns. All wore some sort of breech-clout that as nearly as I could tell was made of some tough and weathered leaf, held on by carefully braided and tied ropelike vines. On a loop of that vine, each bore some sort of weapon—a stone axe, some kind of mineral-carved knife, or in at least two cases, bows and flint-tipped arrows.

One of them, a large woman who was tall and imposing, was the exception to the hair rule, her long, silky-black hair reaching down past her buttocks. She was obviously the leader and radiated a charismatic confidence you could almost feel. Not that she could fail to dominate any scene she was in; at more than two meters in height, she was almost as big as I was.

Well, well, Father Bronz, she said, her voice deep and rich. So-this is the fugitive in trouble. She looked at me and I felt as if I were being examined by some scientist unpleased with the odor and look of her specimen. She turned back to the priest. You said something about a girl. Was that just a papist lie? -

Oh, stow it, Sumiko, Bronz growled. You know me better than that. She's in the cart.

A flick of the leader's head and three of the other women rushed to the cart, pulled the straw off Ti, and gently removed her.

Sons of bitches, the leader snorted in genuine anger and stalked over to the comatose girl. She repeated what Bronz had done when he'd first seen her, placing her hands on Ti's forehead and concentrating hard. After a moment she drew back, opened her eyes, and turned again to face us. What bastard did this? she almost snarled.

Pohn, over at Zeis, Bronz responded wearily. You've heard the stories, and now you know they're true.

She nodded gravely. Someday, I promise you, I will get that worm in my hands and I will slowly, very slowly, dissect him as he watches.

Can you do anything for her? I put in, both concerned and piqued at being ignored.

She nodded thoughtfully. I think so. A little. At least I can bring her out of it, but there's the danger of clotting or brain damage if she's not gotten to a doctor—a real one who knows just what repairs to make. From what I can see of the spell, Pohn is less powerful than I am, but he's damned tricky and clever. She gestured to us and started walking. The other women put Ti back in the cart, and one jumped up behind Sheeba, saying nothing. The cart started, and so did the witch queen—that was the only way I could think of her. We followed off into the bush of the wild.

As we walked, Bronz turned to me and said, softly, Well, now you've met her. Sumiko O'Higgins, chief witch and a regular loving charmer.

She is—ah—formidable, I returned.

That she is, he agreed. Still, she's strong. If anybody can help Ti and you, she can.

I don't think I made a good first impression or something, I noted. She certainly seemed less than pleased with me.

He chuckled. Sumiko doesn't like men very much. But don't worry. This is strictly business.

I didn't feel reassured. Will she really help me?

I pressed. I mean, all things considered, she's got us where she wants us.

Don't worry, he responded, you're perfectly safe. Satanists pride themselves, oddly, on their honor. They simply don't break agreements and commitments once made. Besides, she hates the keeps more than anyone I know, and you're a refugee wanted by the higher-ups. That gives you status here.

I hope so, I said dubiously. Who is she, anyway? She's at least a Master hereelf.

He nodded. Probably more. And with no formal training whatsoever. If she'd gotten some, she might have been ripe for Lord, but that wouldn't fit her personality.

We walked along for some time, losing sight of the cart and of any trace of the road or anything remotely familiar. We were in fact prisoners of the witch-queen's whims. I hoped fervently that Bronz was right about her, but I still remembered his cross and prayer. This was definitely the first human being I'd seen that Father Bronz feared.

We walked on for some time—how long I couldn't tell, since the life on Lilith and the abnormally long days and nights had played hell with what little time sense I retained. Finally, though, we arrived at our host's encampment, a jungle enclave that was quite different from any of the Keeps that I'd seen. The houses were made not from
bunti
but from strong wood and bamboolike reeds, the pointed thatched roofs from some woven straw. The arrangement was a bit odd: thirteen such houses were arranged in a large circle around a clearing in the center of which was a pit, a fireplace for central cooking, and some sort of stone cairn. The inhabitants of the village seemed most active in the dark; they were going about then: tasks as we entered the village, and I noticed that the population was larger than I'd expected— sixty, perhaps more—and that all were women. The lack of men anywhere- only served to increase my nervousness.

The cart had already arrived by some other route. The women doing whatever they were doing by the >nickering light of the low central fife and a number of gourd lanterns filled with the flammable juices of several plants paid us no real mind as we entered. A few glances up of obvious idle curiosity, but no more. Clearly we were not only expected but weren't even big news. I noticed that most of the women were naked and unadorned, marking them as pawns. Apparently the ranking members of the tribe, Supervisor level and above, had
all
come out to meet us. That told me that they felt their village secure but hadn't been any too trusting of us.

The leader called out to a couple of women, and instructions started flying all over the place. Father Bronz and I decided that we were somehow redundant at the moment and just stood back out of the way, watching.

A covering was removed from the central area near the fire, revealing a large stone slab with what might have been a carved recess in it. It looked like a cross between a birdbath and one of those damned tables in Pohn's chamber of horrors. The fire was being stoked, and now Ti's inert form was brought from the cart and placed in the recess in the stone. Twelve women, ten of them apparently pawns, formed a circle around the comatose girl, almost blocking her from view.

I turned to Bronz and asked, What the hell is going on here?

That's what it is, all right—hell, he sighed. They're going to try and bring Ti out of the state she is in, but being Satanists, they will do it as a religious ceremony. This is hard on me, understand, but these women are deluded rather than evil and I'm a prag-matist. Sumiko was the only one I knew with this much power and some medical knowledge who wasn't on the other side or too far away to dp us any good.

I shrugged. Satanism and Catholicism were one and the same to me, both remnants of ancient superstitions and power structures no longer relevant to modern times. Still, I conceded to myself, if this mumbo jumbo allowed them to concentrate and focus then- powers to help Ti, well, so be it.

The twelve started chanting. I couldn't really catch
the words, but if they
were
words, I think it was a language I didn't know.

They chanted for some time, until it started to get boring, but just when I'd settled down to relax, Sumiko O'Higgins entered from one of the huts. She was something to see, draped in black robes and a cape, wearing what appeared to be a carved upside-down cross on some sort of vine necklace.

As she approached the circle of chanting women, the fire, which had almost died out, burst back into explosive life with a force all its own, an action that startled me. It was an eerie effect, all the more so since I knew that the Warden organism died in fire just as all others I'd ever known did, and thus that fire business couldn't be a Warden power trick.

O'Higgins closed the circle by her presence and joined the chant, then dominated it, eyes seemingly closed, arms stretched out to the sky, appearing almost in a trancelike state. Suddenly the chant was stilled, leaving only the sounds of the massive insects of Lilith. I didn't even hear anybody breathe or cough.

Oh, Satan, Lord Of Darkness, hear our prayer! she chanted.

Gather, darkness! the others responded.

Oh, great one who combats the totalitarianism of church and government, work within us and hear our plea!

Hear our plea, echoed the others.

She opened her eyes and lowered her arms slowly, then placed both hands on Ti's unmoving head. Give us strength to heal this girl, she prayed, then closed her eyes again, still touching Ti's head, apparently re-entering the trancelike state. It was difficult to tell if she was faking it or was really in a trance. I began to have some doubts about this procedure, but there really was no alternative. I glanced over at Father Bonz and saw him just looking on and sadly shaking .his head.

The tableau in the center court seemed frozen for some time, and I understood that, no matter what then-odd beliefs, O'Higgins and maybe some of the others were probing, analyzing, perhaps even making repairs.

Suddenly the witch queen let go and stepped back, raising her arms once again. Oh, Satan, Prince of Darkness, rightful King of the Universe, we give thanks! she almost shouted, and the litany was repeated by the others. The fire flared again into near-blinding brilliance, then almost died, causing the strong impression of a tangible darkness closing in, embracing all of us there in the village. I felt a little chill despite the heat and humidity, I have to admit I could well understand how this sort of thing could attract followers.

From light into darkness, from dark knowledge the final victory, she intoned, and then it was broken, as if by some signal. All thirteen of the women stood a little unsteadily, appearing to have gone through some strenuous physical labor.