Gaal the Conqueror (32 page)

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Authors: John White

Tags: #Christian, #fantasy, #inspirational, #children's, #S&S

BOOK: Gaal the Conqueror
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John had been dreaming of Shagah, a Shagah who pursued
him down endless corridors. Finally the sorcerer had caught
him and had seized him by the shoulders. He woke with a start.
Bomgrith was shouting and shaking him.

"Wake up, Sword Bearer, wake up! We are betrayed and our
enemies are upon us!"

Bewildered, he sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed
and stared round the room. Widow Illith was scurrying about
in panic, seizing items of clothing. Eleanor and Authentio were
hastily strapping their sandals. Quickly he laced up his own.
Bomgrith seized the widow by the shoulder, crying, "Hurry!
Never mind your goods and chattels-we must fleel They are
even now pouring into the passages. We have been betrayed!
Come! Waste no time!" He seized John's elbow and pushed
him roughly up the steps toward the trap door.

"Who is it? Who's invading the passages?" John asked.

Bomgrith ignored him. He followed John through the trap
door, and paused to help the widow and Eleanor. Authentio
followed. The widow insisted on carrying a heavy bundle and
would let no one relieve her of it. Suddenly the terror of pursuit
was upon them, and they hurried through a maze of corridors.
Bomgrith led the way, pausing at each bend to make sure the
way ahead was clear.

John followed mechanically. Alarmed as he was, he still
could not rid himself of sleep and was too befuddled to worry
about the route they were taking. From time to time he glanced
at Eleanor who also seemed confused. "That's what comes of
staying awake and talking," he thought. Other Regenskind and
a few Matmon joined them, sometimes overtaking them, sometimes being overtaken by them.

Widow Illith panted, "Pray go-a little-more slowly. I cannot keep-up." The corridor echoed with the shuffling of many
feet.

Authentio seemed unruffled and at peace, so that when eventually speech returned among them, his words were cheerful
and filled with hope. "Gaal will never abandon his servants!"
he said at one point.

Eleanor said, "But he's been captured."

"Did you ever look into his eyes?" Authentio asked her.

Eleanor looked startled. After a moment she said, "I think I
know what you mean. But all the same ..."

Bit by bit Bomgrith told them what he knew. "They arrested
the gatekeeper of the Northern Gate last night," he said. "Some
of the redheads seized the lodge and stayed there. We don't
know just what happened. They may have tortured the gatekeeper until he told them where the entrance to the tunnel was,
or the Habesh redheads may have discovered it themselves.
Anyway, early this morning they were swarming in the tunnels
and arresting people."

"How did you find out?"

"I heard them in the distance hammering at doors, and then
saw what was happening. There was a bend in the corridor and
several branching corridors round there, so I started hammering at doors myself and spreading the warning. Later I nearly
ran into them, and overheard their talk as I hid. Then I thought
of the Sword Bearer ..."

Eventually they reached a crowd of people near an exit. A
man at the opening was beckoning people through, three or
four at a time, evidently as someone outside gave him the signal
that it was safe to do so. Some carried kitchen utensils, and the
man at the entrance urged them not to. "They will know you
are of Gaal's party, know that you have just fled your homes if
you appear with those. Extra clothes you might get away withbut not those things!" John heard him say. Some heeded him
and dropped their utensils. Others left still clinging to them.

Widow Illith said, "People picnic on the grass when there's
a sacrifice. I've brought a blanket, a pot to boil water and bits
of food. Those won't make anyone suspect us."

When it was their own turn to emerge John was surprised to
see that they were at the same point at which they had entered
the night before, by the monolith in the ring of stones around
the temple. Long shadows and horizontal shafts of light alternated to create a stunning early morning panorama. Already
crowds were gathering for the spectacle of the noon-day sacrifice, so it was easy for them to mingle inconspicuously, shuffling and keeping their heads and voices low. Regenskind and
matmon were wandering curiously inside the circle of stones,
walking around the awesome altar and eyeing it wonderingly.
Others were sitting in groups and breakfasting on the grass.

At first they felt relief mingled with anxiety, anxiety lest they
should even now be discovered, and relief that they had escaped from the tunnels without being caught. Makeshift stalls
run by food vendors were being erected here and there. Some were already in operation. They bought food at one and sat
down on the grass in their own small group.

"I'm terribly sorry, I really am-I mean about the raid," Eleanor said, looking at the widow Illith. "Whatever will you do?"

The widow's face was lined with care. "That I know not," she
replied quietly. "Many a day have I waited for this to happen.
They had to find us sooner or later, yet even now I can't believe
it has happened. I lost my real home two years ago when I
followed Gaal and had to go into hiding. And now. . ."

Authentio's face was alive with joy. "Do not worry, my mother!" he said. "Today is to be a day of triumph! Gaal will make
all things right."

John said nothing. He felt a little ashamed as he listened to
Authentio's confidence. But he was confused and fearful, hardly knowing what to think. Certainly Gaal had said he would die.
But what had he meant about conquering death from the inside?

"When will it be safe for you to go back?" Eleanor asked the
widow.

Bomgrith answered for her. "It will never be safe," he said.
"Now they have discovered the tunnels we are all homeless. We
must hide in the forests."

"But we must see what happens to Gaal first," John said. "It
shouldn't be too risky. After all, they wouldn't expect us to be
having a picnic, or that we would want to watch Gaal being
sacrificed."

"Nevertheless we must watch for the redheads. If they should
hear the way we converse at the moment they would know at
once who we are-for the enchanted ones are slow of speech
and dull of wit."

For several minutes they ate, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes eating in silence. Shuffling Regenskind continued to fill
up the grassy spaces, until the area around the altar resembled
a great open-air theater with the altar as the central stage. Only the area in front of the temple remained vacant.

Widow Illith spread out the blanket, inviting them in a dull
voice to sit on it. Her movements from long practice were slow
and clumsy, causing John to marvel at her skill in mimicking
enchantment. She sent them for sticks to build a fire, and forcing themselves to move slowly they did so. Authentio brought
water from a spring, and soon the pot was heating over the
flames.

"I don't think she's just faking enchantment," Eleanor murmured softly. "It's hit her hard-losing her home for the second time."

"Just look at the food she's brought," John whispered, his
head low in imitation of enchanted Regenskind. "We needn't
have bought any. How did she snatch it up so quickly?"

"She told me it would happen sooner or later, so she was
always ready." Eleanor shaded her hand to look up at the temple roof. "Look!" she said after a moment, her voice rising in
excitement. "Isn't that Ponty on the roof? I'm sure it is. It's days
since we've seen him. Whatever would he be doing up there?"

"Goodness knows," John said, staring in the direction Eleanor was pointing. "But it's him all right." His voice, like Eleanor's was alive with sudden exhilaration.

"Speak more slowly and more quietly!" Bomgrith said.

"But you know, even the people under the spell seem a bit
excited this morning," John replied. "You can feel it in the air."

Just then the sound of a bull's bellow echoed from inside the
temple. The crowds by now were dense, and there was a general stirring among them at the sound. People scrambled to their
feet struggling to see what was happening, and the five adventurers did the same.

Suddenly there was silence. Gaal had emerged from the temple, walking slowly into the sunlight. Four Habesh matmon also
emerged behind him, and at first it was difficult to know what
they were doing. Faintly they could hear them shouting and making motions with their arms, almost as though they were
driving invisible animals in front of them. "That's Gaal, isn't it?"
Eleanor said, squinting a little, for the sun was in her eyes. "It
looks almost as if they're scared of him."

It was true. They continued to shout and to wave their staffs.
One of them ran forward to strike Gaal from time to time. But
he would jump back quickly, as though he were afraid Gaal
might attack him. But before long he became bolder, striking
brutally so that Gaal would stumble, before resuming his unhurried walk toward the altar. Yet as blow succeeded blow it
took him longer to recover and stagger to his feet.

"Oh, Gaal! I can't stand it!" Eleanor breathed. "Why do you
let them?"

"The brutes!" John muttered fiercely. "How dare they!"

By now Gaal had almost reached the altar, and suddenly at
the foot of the altar an animal appeared, an animal the like of
which John had never seen. It was a bull of enormous strength
and size, long-horned and black in color. Its bellowing rolled
across the open space. At the sound of it and at the sight of its
enraged pawing, the crowd jostled one another to back away.
But it was at Gaal that its rage was directed.

"I have come, 0 worker of miracles, to exact a price." John
marveled that a bellow could be both a bellow and a sneer.

"A price?" The voice was the voice of Gaal.

"Exactly. The price you already owe me for the many you
have taken from my service. And the price is your life. Your
blood."

Tension filled the crowd. Suddenly it seemed that even the
enchanted Regenskind were listening with rapt attention. The
widow Illith clutched the arm of Authentio, who quietly detached her clutching hand, folded her arm beneath his own
and tenderly stroked the hand.

Gaal was speaking. "I owe you nothing, and will pay you
nothing."

"Nevertheless, I will kill you." The bull's words were quietbut they could be heard as distinctly as the ticking of a clock
in a dark room at night. "I will exact the price myself."

"It is true that you will kill me," Gaal said. "You were a murderer from the beginning, and you are a murderer still. But
when you kill me, it will be only as a knife kills a victim, a knife
in the hands of a greater executioner. We both serve the interests of a higher justice-I willingly, knowing what I do, you as
a fool and a liar."

The bull roared so suddenly that John and Eleanor both
jumped. It was hard to say whether it roared with rage or with
laughter. "Justice? What is justice? Only power matters now." It
raised its head and shook it slowly from side to side as though
it marveled at Gaal's stupidity. "Even now you fail to grasp
reality. You are not the victim of justice but my victim. Do you
hear? My victim!"

"Not so," Gaal replied quietly. "I am the victim of the One
who must be true to himselfl He is the real executioner, and
his alone is the sacrifice. You are nothing more than an implement in his hand."

Bomgrith stood close behind John. "One of the reds was
staring at you a moment ago," he whispered. "He has been
walking up and down behind us. I think he suspects who you
are. Don't move now. I'll keep watching him."

John's heart missed a beat. "I'm going to get the Mashal
Stone ready," he said quietly to Eleanor. "Give me your hand
so that I can flick the chain round both of our wrists if anything
happens." His heart began to pump in his chest, but he continued to stare at Gaal and at the bull.

"Words, words, nothing but words!" the bull bellowed. "Your
only weapons are the words that come out of your mouth. Justice
is a word-nothing more. What can words do? I have power.
You die because I choose to kill you. The game is over. You are
between my hoofs. I have won! Do you suppose I do not know you, Son of the Emperor? Ho, ho! The son himself!"

"You are forgetting something," Gaal replied quietly.

"I never forget anything."

"You forget that I am also the last Regent. As the Son I do
not fight with such as you. You were my servant once. But I am
not only the Son."

The bull's eyes had narrowed to slits. It had ceased to paw
the ground. "Well-and what of that?" it said.

"You deceived and defeated the first Regent!"

`Just as I have defeated you."

"And so you have ruled his descendants as a tyrant."

"Precisely."

"So I have come as a Regent. I come to do what the first
Regent failed to do-to overcome your tyranny and to undo
what the first Regents did."

The bull dipped its head in mock reverence. "And how will
you do that, my Lord Last-Regent?"

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