Gaal the Conqueror (31 page)

"Where's the place of execution?" John asked at length.

The matmon who had spoken first was the one to reply,
turning his head in a puzzled fashion, wondering where the
voice had come from. "My lord, my lord the Invisible One," he
said fearfully, "it is the grand altar, I suppose. They take one
of us for sacrifice there from time to time. We just wait. We
never know who it is going to be. But there was something
special about him." He paused and seemed to be listening.
Then hurriedly he added, "I know not how the rest of you
escaped your cell, but get back quickly. They are returning."

John had not heard whatever sound had warned of the approaching jailers, but as he looked over to the far side of the
area, he could see the flickering light of torches illuminating
the foot of the stairway by which they had originally descended.
Already Eleanor and her two companions were hurrying toward the iron door that separated them from the smaller area
where their own cell was. John followed them through it, carefully locking the door behind them. They stood in a circle,
staring at one another and at the bunch of keys that appeared
to be suspended in the air where John's invisible body stood.

"That's the second time I've tried to do something with the
Mashal Stone in order to help Gaal," John grumbled. "And
both times it seems to have backfired. He warned me not to
misuse it. Maybe I shouldn't even be wearing it now-but it's
so comforting to have it on."

Eleanor's face wore a strained expression. "What now?" she
said.

"Will they come here?" Bomgrith asked.

"Who knows," Authentio replied.

"Gaal said he would die," John said, his voice heavy with
sudden despair. "It sounds as though he means what he said
in the forest. But you fellows shouldn't be standing like this. Get
into the cage in case they come in here."

One after another they made their way through the cage
door, pulling it closed after them. "Do not give way to sadness,
my lord," Authentio said, directing his smile in the direction of
John's keys. "If my lord Gaal chooses to be sacrificed, he must
surely have a great plan in his heart. All will be well, I know!"

John did not reply. Nor did he bother to lock the cage door.
He turned to look at the door at the far side of the room, half
realizing he had seen it before. "I'm going to find out what's
behind that door. You never know where it might lead." In spite
of Authentio's words, the disappearance of Gaal and the sight
of his clothing had disheartened him. Nevertheless his mind
was still working on escape.

He walked over to the door and saw at once several locks,
some of them padlocks, and three of them keyholes for locks
in the body of the door. Light came through the keyholes, and
when he peered through one of them he felt a mild surge of
hope.

"There's a street outside," he announced slowly, "-not a
courtyard or anything. Just an ordinary street. I can even see
houses."

"I know the street well," Bomgrith said. "There is a door
behind this prison. I have seen it many times."

John tried one key after another, both in the keyholes and
on the padlocks. None worked. Then at the height of his frustration he remembered the key in his pocket. He was about to
try to use it when from behind him, he heard the turning of
another key. He swung round. The iron door through which
they had just come opened and five goblin guards entered. For
a moment they stood still, staring now at their prisoners, now
around the whole room. "Heee eeez nut heeeer," one said.

Slowly it produced a bunch of keys similar to the one in
John's hand, approaching the cage door as it did so. It inserted
the key, struggled to turn it, withdrew it, stared at the key and
tried again. As it struggled the second time it seemed to realize
the door was unlocked, left the key in the lock, looked up at the
prisoners and drew its sword. Meanwhile two of the guards had
discovered the dry area on the floor outside the cage. There
was an intensity, a suggestion of panic in their strangely monotonous voices as they said, almost simultaneously, "Eeeet
eeez heeez death place."

Now all five had their swords drawn and they turned menacingly to the prisoners. Eleanor, Authentio and Bomgrith backed
fearfully toward the rear of the cage, their eyes on the goblins.
John's heart contracted. Still invisible and at the far end of the
room, he knew he must act quickly. Did goblins believe in
ghosts? He raised the keys in the air with his left. hand and
began to jingle them, crying in his best imitation of a goblin's
voice, "Heee eeez deadl Heee eeez dead!"

The effect on them was immediate and dramatic. All of them
turned round, saw the dancing keys and stared at them in fear.
The goblin who had tried to open the door, and the two by the
dry patch seemed to freeze. Two others began to back toward
the door. In panic John realized they must not be allowed to
get through it. Drawing his sword he hurtled across the room.
The goblins were quicker, but in their blind panic two of them
attempted to pass through it at the same time and got stuck.
They were still struggling when John flung his weight against
the door, slamming it, cutting through their fragile bodies with
the hard steel of the door. The mess of their fluid remains
boiled on the floor.

In fury he turned to face the other goblins, who stood, eyes
wide and staring at the floating keys and sword. He never
paused. With swift sword strokes he decapitated all three.

"Oh, well done, John! Well done!" he heard Eleanor say between choking and coughing at the boiling stench. He himself retched dryly and said nothing, except, once he could stop
retching and get his breath, "Let's get away from here as fast
as we can. There'll be more of them coming sooner or later,
and it won't be just goblins next time."

He plucked the treasure key from his pocket, worrying at the
time it might take to open the door with so many locks on it,
even if the key worked. He need not have worried. The key
glowed and vibrated as he drew it from its resting place. And
as he pointed it in the direction of the door the padlocks sprang
apart Every lock gave way and of its own accord the door swung
open.

Once in the street they abandoned any attempt at shuffling
disguise and ran in the direction of the temple, toward a point
from which they could enter the tunnel system. There were
shouts behind them, but their pursuers never caught sight of
them. Guided by Bomgrith they soon found themselves crouching behind a bush by one of the monoliths that surrounded the
temple, making sure there was no one to observe them as they
entered the tunnel system by yet another secret entrance. Less
than half an hour later they were back in the walls of the city,
making for a room where "the leaders," as Bomgrith called
them, met.

"Who are the leaders?" John asked. He had heard about
them several times since he had been in Bamah, and had often
wondered.

"They're the people who were closest to Gaal, both Regenskind and matmon -people he'd released from the spell ages
ago."

At length they emerged from the tunnels into a cave some
distance beyond the city walls. Their sudden appearance
caused surprise, and their story dismay and alarm. About thirty
men, women and matmon were gathered there. John, who had
removed the Mashal Stone from around his neck, stared at them gloomily. He had seen a few of them before, but most
were strangers. They looked singularly unimpressive. His spirits, which were already low, sank even further as he glanced at
them. What good would such a pitiful bunch do? What hope
was there that anything would turn out right?

Bomgrith's story provoked questions. There was a good deal
of interest in John's invisibility. "It arises from a stone called
the Mashal Stone that he may wear on a chain around his
neck," Bomgrith explained.

There was talk about the potential of such a stone. One
young matmon urged that the stone be used to rescue Gaal.
John was irritated. "That was Pontificater's grand scheme, and
so far it hasn't done a scrap of good," he said. "In any case we
have no idea where Gaal is. And I for one am fed up with
penetrating the Circle's territory. It doesn't work. And Gaal said
that I could use the stone once more and then give it to-give
it to-" a look of wonder, and then a smile crossed his face "-
give it to Authentio. Somehow I'd forgotten till just now!"

He glanced over at the young man, who stared back at him,
his lips parted in astonishment.

"Listen to me, all of you. I could use it to rescue Gaal!" cried
the matmon who had first suggested the idea. "I have the courage that his lordship evidently lacksl"

"You could not use it-and you will not, you bombastic jackanapes! " John snapped. "The Mashal Stone is for me to use.
Gaal's orders are explicit. I don't intend to disobey them for
some fool idea that any upstart idiot-leader or not-gets into
his fool head."

The matmon flushed, and there were murmurs of astonishment. But there were also more questions about all that had
happened. There was particular concern about Prodo Tehs,
and even more concern about Gaal.

"Listen!" John interrupted impatiently. "Gaal told Eleanor
and me-told us days ago in the enchanted forest, that he intended to die. There was also something about a black bull
killing him. It didn't make sense then, and it doesn't now, but
that's what he said."

He went on to describe the strange vision he had on the way
to the prison, and heard Eleanor gasp and murmur "You too!"
as he did so. He repeated what Gaal had said about destroying
death from the inside and concluded, "We feel like the rest of
you about what has happened, and like you we don't understand. I hate it. But one thing is clear-this is the way he wants
it to happen. He never even tried to escape."

There were more questions about the black bull. "We don't
know any more," Eleanor said. "He never explained. He just
said we'd see it for ourselves when it happened."

"It will happen tomorrow at noon-if it's like all the rest of
the sacrifices," Bomgrith said. "And if it is like the rest, the
whole city will be out to watch."

That night at Widow Illith's John and Eleanor talked on and
on, long after the widow and her son Authentio were asleep.
"I thought they'd never get to sleep," Eleanor said, her smiling
face lit by an oil lamp. "Wasn't it lovely to see their joy at being
together again." She stared across at Authentio, who slept contentedly on the floor beside John's alcove-bed.

"That guy's an optimist if ever I saw one," John said heavily.

"You're right. And I hate to be gloomy when I see them so
happy."

"They're still in danger," John sighed. "They don't seem to
care. Mebbe they don't realize-though you'd think they
would."

"I guess they're so used to living one day at a time."

"Well, I'm not," John grumbled. "You know, I can't get Shagah out of my head. I thought when we first came to Bamah that
we might be free of him. But now I can't stop thinking about
him."

"I know. I'm sure he would never give up."

"And we're still supposed to get him inside that picture."

Eleanor drew in a breath, and for a moment seemed as
though she was about to say something. But the words never
came. Instead tears crept down her cheeks. At length she said,
"I know it's mean of me to think of it. After all there's Gaal to
think about-and all these folk who've been so kind to us.
Their own lives are in danger. But I want to get back-to our
own world. And now..."

John had been twisting his fingers together. "If Gaal dies, will
we ever get back?"

Though he had grown accustomed to being in Anthropos
again, the memory of his father waiting on the ice on Black
Sturgeon Lake had never really left his thoughts. "I wonder
how long it's been in their time since we left," he mused. "I wish
I knew." He sighed.

"You know we're talking as if Gaal's death is the end of
everything," Eleanor said. "It might be. But on the other hand
it might not. Remember my `death'? And remember what he
said about defeating death from the inside?"

"I think that was just talk-I mean talk to encourage us-so
we wouldn't be frightened."

"I don't think so. What does it all mean? What will we see
tomorrow?"

"I don't know. And I don't really want to go," John said. "Do
you? The thought of it makes me sick."

"But we can't just leave him. We've got to be there!"

"Sure-I know. Don't worry. But I hate the thought of it.
What good will it do? It just makes no sense, no sense at all.
Oh, dad-I wish I could talk to you."

"At least you've got a dad-a decent one, I mean," Eleanor
sighed.

They continued to talk for some time, but eventually they
drifted into silence, as outside dawn began quietly to chase
away the shadows of the night.