Gaal the Conqueror (8 page)

"They don't seem afraid."

"Perhaps not. Nevertheless they are. "

"And what is the Circle in Bramah?"

"Not Bramah, Bamah." Pontificater interrupted.

"O.K, Bamah. But what is it?"

The dragon drew in a long breath. To John's consternation
flames shot from his nostrils hitting a bare patch of rock close
to the edge of the ledge. After a moment he said, "There, try
that! You look cold, and I've warmed it for you."

Eleanor giggled. Cautiously John felt the rock with his hand.
It was about as hot as an old-fashioned hot-water radiator, and
not too hot to sit on. Gratefully he squatted cross-legged, pressing the palms of his hands against the hot rock.

The dragon cleared his throat with a sound like a train in a
distant tunnel. "Ahem! Yes, quite so. The Circle. The Circle of
Light in Bamah has a long and exceedingly complicated his

After he had spoken for a minute or more using and
longer words, John finally interrupted, "Please-if you don't
mind. I-I can't stand history! Could we skip that part? You're
starting to sound like an encyclopedia. Just give me the facts."

In a tone of alarm Authentio said, "Do not offend him, Sir!
He is a loyal dragon, and knows many, many things."

For a moment or two the dragon put on an injured air and
seemed reluctant to continue. But at last he sighed and said,
"The Circle of Light is a powerful group of nine-er, ahemnine nonmaterial beings who currently rule the land from the
new capital city of Bamah. We call them Angeli."

"Like ghosts?"

"No, not like ghosts. Well, how can I express it? Perhaps like exceedingly powerful ghosts. Spiritual beings? At any rate it is
they who by their sorceries have turned the villagers into
dreaming idiots so the Regenskind will be easier to control."

"Regenskind?" John queried, a frown creasing his forehead.

"Descendants of the Regents-those beings from the Garden
Room, whom doubtless you remember well. Regenskind are the
equivalent of humans from your own world."

John's heart had been beating fiercely for several minutes.
"This Shagah. He seems very important," he said shakily.

Eleanor nodded, her lips pale, and her fingers trembling a
little. "Gaal said I'd have to meet him again. In fact he said I'd
have something to do with imprisoning him. It makes me
afraid."

"You said a bit about that yesterday," John said, turning to
the dragon. "You also said the treasure had to go to the Tower
of Geburah. But why? And why do I have to take it?"

"Why you? One can only suppose it is because you and Eleanor are the ones Gaal chose," Pontificater replied.

Eleanor took a long breath and began, "Gaal told me two
things. He said the treasures must go to the tower for safekeeping. But he also said Shagah would try to stop us and try to
capture them, and that's where the second thing comes in. The
treasures have magic powers, and we can use them to counteract his magic. He didn't tell me how, though. He just said they'd
come in very useful on our journey, and that one day we would
overcome Shagah himself by trapping him into his picture."
She paused and frowned. "But he said I was to go with someone
called the Sword Bearer. Who or what is the Sword Bearer?"

"You mean you don't know?" John asked.

"No. Should I?"

Pontificater rumbled, "Hm! The Sword Bearer and I engaged
in a prolonged discussion about his identity in your presence
yesterday."

"In my presence?"

"It is true that you were engaged in conducting excavations
around the much-discussed treasure ..."

"Oh, then. I wasn't listening to what you two were gabbing
about."

"If you had you would have known ..."

John interrupted. "I'm the Sword Bearer. That's the title I
had last time I was here."

A look of delight slowly dawned on Eleanor's face. "You?"
she said wonderingly. "I never thought Gaal would send the
two of us on such a journey together."

"There's that Gaal fellow again. I don't know who this Gaal
is," John said. "How can he order me around like that? I came
here of my own free will, and nobody can make me do anything
I don't want to do."

Authentio laughed. "I don't know Gaal well myself. But he
seems to be a remarkable person. You chose to come here? I
wonder if this is so. I suspect Gaal brought you here."

John hadn't thought of that. Could he have chosen not to
come? Had he walked into a trap when he took those extra
steps on Black Sturgeon Lake?

"The issue is an interesting one philosophically," the dragon
said. "Let it, for the sake of argument, be granted that the
choice to come here was truly your own. A moment ago you
talked about returning to Canada. Can you choose to go back
by an act of will-to return by a similar act of will to the one
that brought you here?"

John had been standing, but as Pontificater's words sank in,
he felt a cold weakness and a nausea steal over his frame. Until
now he had assumed that all he had to do was to find Eleanor
and return. But clearly, getting back was going to prove a bigger
problem than he had thought.

"Gaal wouldn't trick you or trap you," Eleanor said slowly.
"He's not like that. I'm glad you've come, John. And even
though I'm scared, I'm willing-well, sort of willing to go to Bamah and to the Tower."

"But why?" John asked, "Why must we go? I wouldn't mind
seeing the island again, but what makes it so important?"

"According to my mother," Authentio said settling down
comfortably on the rock, "the treasure was lost when it was
stolen by enemies of Gaal-"

"-and of the Changer," Pontificater interrupted.

Authentio continued. "It is to play an important role in the
future history of Anthropos, say the prophecies. My mother has
told me, `The Tower of Geburah is the one safe place where
such important objects can be protected, until the time is ripe."'

"Quite so, quite so," Pontificater said. "But if you will all allow
me the liberty of waxing a little epigrammatic, I would say:
Protect the treasure and you will be protected. Guard it with
your lives and you will be guarded."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" John asked.

"I speak as an oracle," Pontificater said, turning his nose
upward.

John snorted. Pontificater was impossible. He decided to take
another tack. "Then why do we have to go to Bamah?" he
asked.

"Ah, yes, Bamah. Bamah the ancient and evil city. Bamah the
evil capital of Anthropos," Pontificater said, obviously preparing to make a speech. "Sinister place in the extreme. You have
to go there to imprison the evil sorcerer Shagah. Gaal himself
will deal with the Circle of Nine. But both Shagah and his
picture are in Bamah. And Shagah and his picture are your
business. Therefore your assigned task begins in Bamah."

"And I suppose Shagah will be glad to see us,"John snapped.

Authentio looked at him narrowly. "This is no matter for
jesting. If what my mother says is true, Shagah is expecting you.
He has known all along about the prophecy. No, he will not
welcome you. We wondered what he was doing at the village.
It is clear now that he was looking for you, that he had divined the approximate time and place of your coming. He thought he
had gotten rid of Eleanor when he turned her into a dog, and
he obviously plans to rid himself likewise of you. You are not
going to have an easy time getting to Bamah. He knows now
that you are in Anthropos, and that you are somewhere near
the village."

John sighed. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized
that what the others told him was true, that there was no way
for him to return to Canada right away, and that he and Eleanor had been selected for an important mission. Indeed it was
an honor to be chosen. But it was too much to accept at once.
"You may all be right," he said. "But I don't want to talk about
it right now. I don't want to be rude, Ponty, my friend-if you
don't mind me calling you that."

"If by such a name you indicate a friendship between us,
then yes, I willingly accept it," said the dragon.

"Then, Ponty, the stew last night was excellent. But could we
have some breakfast now?"

Far away in a room in the Temple of Bamah a black robed,
white-haired old man sat at the head of a long table of heavy
dark wood. Chairs surrounded the table, and beyond them
books lined the walls. The old man sat erect, staring intently at
a gold-framed painting which lay face up on the table in front
of him. It was a picture of himself-so real that he might have
been staring down at his image in a mirror. In spite of its
wrinkles the face in the picture was a handsome face, and in
spite of the hint of cruelty and ruthless power around the nose
and mouth, it was an attractive one. Its pale blue eyes were cold,
but if you looked at the face as a whole you would say its smile
was warm, almost merry.

The man raised his arms over the picture, his wide sleeves
drooping like curtains below them. His pale hands trembled,
and a look of intense concentration replaced his smile. Then from his lips, softly at first but slowly increasing in volume,
came a deeply intoned chant. As the volume increased, so did
the shaking of his hands till at length his face grew distorted,
sweat covered, while his arms flailed wildly and uncontrollably.
Then with a final shriek he sank back in his chair, apparently
exhausted. The picture before him no longer bore his likeness,
but was now a gold-framed canvas of uniform gray. Shagah the
Sorcerer had constructed for himself a place of refuge in
danger where no one, not even the Nine could reach him.

For several minutes he seemed to be gathering strength as
his breathing settled back to normal. But his eyes were downcast, and several moments passed before he observed what was
happening over the chair at the other end of the table. A mist
gathered there, slowly taking the form of a huge and deathly
white figure of strange beauty that dwarfed the old man. The
figure appeared to be seated, not on the chair, but on an invisible seat that brought him level with the table. The lower
parts of its body could not be seen. The upper part of the trunk
was so enormous that the top of the head almost reached the
ceiling. Had John been there he would at once have recognized
the Lord Lunacy.

The old man lifted his eyes, and as he did so his face grew
white as death. Lord Lunacy spoke. "So you completed it, Shagah!"

Shagah trembled. He was like a bird held hypnotically by the
approach of a snake. "My lord Lunacy!" he breathed.

"And you stole some of my power to do so."

For several minutes the old man stared but made no reply.
From time to time his pale lips moved, as if he were about to
say something, but no sound issued from them. Finally he
seemed to rally. A pallid, tremulous smile came on his face, and
he whispered, "You taught me all about stealing power. Iwanted to show you how well I have learned." With a supreme
effort he controlled the tremor in his hands, gripping one hand firmly in the other. Nor did he drop his gaze, staring with eyes
to which frightened life had returned, eyes that looked like
those of a dog that hoped its master would forgive, yet which
also held a glint that bordered, terrified as he seemed, on defiance. For several minutes no word was spoken as the two
stared at each other. Finally the old sorcerer lowered his gaze.
The defiance had gone and his smile was replaced by a look
of utter dread.

Lord Lunacy spoke again. "And the Sword Bearer has arrived."

"Yes, my lord, the Sword Bearer has arrived." The sorcerer's
voice was low and tremulous.

"He has located the treasure, and has even penetrated and
successfully escaped from one of our temples. Shagah, the
treasure belongs to me, just as you yourself belong to me."

"Yes, my lord." The words were whispered rather than spoken.

"You are to destroy the Sword Bearer, and to bring my treasure here. You must not allow it to reach Geburah."

"I understand, my lord. But my lord, the boy is protected,
Gaal-"

A roar of rage swelled from Lord Lunacy's throat and mouth.
The walls shook at the sound of it, and books tumbled from the
shelves on to the floor. The table rocked uncertainly, while the
chair on which the sorcerer was seated seemed about to pitch
him across the room. Frantically he seized the moving table
with both hands, his eyes wide with terror. The roaring turned
to speech. "Know, magician, that I and I alone rule in Anthropos. And I say that you will destroy the boy. Or your power will
be taken from you." Slowly the roar and the clatter died down.

Lunacy stared at the cowering sorcerer before speaking
again. His face was expressionless, and his voice calm when
finally he spoke. "I know that you have made plans to deal with
the boy. What are they, my good lord Shagah?"

Shagah's voice shook, but his thoughts were coherent "Every
road is watched. The ports are closed. I myself shall deal with
the hill tribes."