Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 1 - Anubis Murders (6 page)

"You mean it won't be noticed?" Inhetep inquired.

"It isn't because it won't be noticed," the druid replied, "but because it will seem minor and different to any other sort of practitioner seeking information from the heka currents, directions, and flows."

Inhetep seemed uncertain. "We have no great spellsingers in Egypt, albeit many castings are employed with the aid of chants and the like. What little I know comes from the Grecians and Latins. They contradict what you have just told me, Tallesian."

"That isn't surprising. With all due respect to all older cultures, the Kellts are the commensurate bardic folk. Even though the Skandian, Teutonic, and Frankish peoples work their best to rival us, their skalds and troubadours are still unable to rival the bards of Avillonia. We slip magical energy away so softly and quietly that only one who intimately knows the bardic art can have any inkling of just what power is being drawn and directed. Isn't that right, Behon?"

"Quite so," the ovate agreed. "Only the rhyme-singers of the furthest north, the folk of Kalevala and Pohjola, might know when a Kelltic bard is at work and what is being done by whom."

"How so?" the wizard-priest queried.

"The great ones in Kalevala, for instance, are what one might call wizard-skalds. If any heka-craefter is able to meet the Egyptians on their own terms in the art of magick, it is those great practitioners of Soumi—Kalevalan, Finn, Lapp or otherwise. It is similarly true, despite what Aldriss will ever admit, and Tallesian too for that matter, that those weavers of dweomers are certainly more than on a par with the greatest of our bards."

The druid harrumphed. "Perhaps, perhaps . . . But in days of yore, it was a different story. The young ones today are not what bards once were!"

"True," the Behon said. "Perhaps Cairbre, Finn, and Ossian were greater than the Waino . . ."

Inhetep had been keeping an eye on the two who were still chatting together near the bow. "Well, my fine Kelltic philosophers, then I think you had better round up your able bard and set him to work. Otherwise, he might dawdle the whole of the journey away," Setne added with a little testiness. Tallesian and the Behon still remained gaunt and pale-looking—magickally assumed guises, of course. Aldriss, on the other hand, had allowed himself to return to his natural appearance—young, muscular, with fair skin, flashing white teeth, and bright blue eyes. Too handsome, too foppish in his ways, the shaven-headed Egyptian thought sourly. No. He had to be honest with himself. It was that the bard was too forward, self-assured, and altogether too flirtatious with Rachelle!

The Behon smiled upon seeing the black look Setne shot toward Aldriss, and Tallesian murmured something apologetic under his breath as he went forward to fetch the bard. Fortunately, the girl remained near the front of the sloop when the two Lyonnessians came back to join their leader and Inhetep. "You need my services, then?" Aldriss asked brightly.

"It's you and yours who need mine," the Egyptian reminded him in reply. "I believe your liege, the Behon, has some instructions."

"That is correct, Aldriss. We must have a very fast passage. That can be assured only through your vigilance and harping."

The bard stood straighter and squared his shoulders. "It is an honor, and one I will truly fulfill in keeping the charge, Behon." Then Aldriss grinned to each of the three in turn, saying, "But, of course, in such a calm sea as the Mare Librum, there'll be no need for my skill, will there? Three days to the Pillars of Herakles in all likelihood. If you will excuse me then, I think I should return to where Lady Rachelle is waiting, for I have been recounting the history and wonders of this land, and of Lyonnesse Isle."

Without another word, Aldriss turned and rejoined Rachelle at the bow rail.

Without seeming to notice Aldriss' departure, Setne eyed the waves, looked up at the sky with its scattering of puffy little clouds, then fixed his falcon-like gaze upon the Kelltic mage. "Pray tell me, Behon—you too, wise druid—all about these famed bards of Avillon's Isles. I am sorely lacking in this field of knowledge. To liken the elder ones to the great Vainomoinen is ample demonstration of their powers. Can you enlighten my ignorance?"

The two needed no further encouragement. Inhetep was an excellent listener and had near perfect recall. When it was evident to the Kellts that he was truly interested in hearing about their special form of spell-weaving, that singing of the bard, there was no silencing them. The weather was fair enough, the winds right, and the ship plowed along on her circuit of Iberia's southeastern coast. It was three days to reach the place where the sea met the mightier waters of the Lantlan Ocean. During that whole time the Egyptian learned of bards while the bard, Aldriss, spent his time amusing Rachelle.

Three days later, they finally passed the Pillars of Herakles and came out upon the long swells of the gray-hued Lantlan Ocean. Rachelle still spent a good deal of the time near the foremast where Aldriss now played and sang to aid their passage. One afternoon the tall Egyptian wrapped himself in a cloak borrowed from the sloop's captain and joined them.

"Are you thinking of taking up the harp, Ma-gister?" the bard asked when Setne began setting down notes on a papyrus roll. "If so, you must learn to play notes, not take them," the fellow jested.

Inhetep smiled thinly. "No, no," he disclaimed. "I have never before seen a master spell-singer such as yourself in action. Perhaps I'll gain enough information this way to present a paper on the subject to the University of Innu—my own alma mater, as they say in Grecia—sometime in the future. Am I likely to meet others such as yourself in Camelough?"

"There's precious little chance of that," Al-driss said, grinning.

"I had thought as much," the wizard-priest said. "Well, never mind me. Do continue with your tune, and don't forget to keep the dweomers you spin thus on the unexceptional side."

"Now that'll be the truly hard part," Aldriss responded, "for one such as myself usually leaves a mark of virtuosity even in so simple a business as calling fair winds and keeping storms at bay."

"I can appreciate just how much wind a chap such as yourself can generate," Setne said as he casually peered up at the taut sails. "Why, the canvas overhead is fairly stretched to bursting!"

It was the bard's turn to look sour, but he couldn't be sure that the remark had alluded to anything other than the breeze which he had harped up to drive the sloop north toward his home. A note of irritation crept into the strains, but he played and sang on.

Despite the efforts which Aldriss put forth, a storm came up which would have demanded a major expenditure of supernatural power to suppress. The captain furled most of the sloop's sails and ran before it. The ship made safe harbor in Galicia, but they had to lie at anchor for three days before the stormy seas quieted sufficiently for them to set sail again. They had not, however, had to significantly alter their course. The following wind was stiff and would carry the sloop to Lyonnesse, making the lost days almost insignificant. Between the magick of the bard's spinning and good fortune, the five wayfarers would soon be in the port of Caer-Mabd. From that town, it was only a single day's ride to the capital, Camelough, the Behon explained.

"You haven't spoken of the involvement of your gods in the terrible business," Tallesian mentioned as they came within hours of their destination.

"Terrible business?"

"These murders and the blackmail behind them," the druid said a trifle crossly.

"Oh, now I comprehend your meaning," he responded in offhanded manner. "You see, I wasn't sure because of the erroneous assumption you made."

"Just what do you mean, Inhetep?" the Behon interjected. "His comment sounded quite proper to me."

"It might have, but that's due to your own incorrect assumption. If you must know, Anubis is the son of Osiris by Nepthys, once the wife of Set and sister to Isis, Lord Osiris' chief consort. Anubis is no more involved in these murders than you or I, and I question strongly the possibility of the dark-minded Set having any part, either—although he would not be above all this and would certainly love to discredit the Guide, bring Tep-tu-f down from his high place, but . . ."

"But what, Magister?! Tep-tough? What is it you mean?"

"That no entity of Tigypt—nor even one associated with the Near East—is involved here. That is most obvious. What magick or hekau do any such ones have in the frozen north? Your own isles? Stony Ys? So few honor them, even know of the gods of my land, that they have but minor force in such places. Yet it was you who spoke of the great magicks which masked these crimes. Anubis is the Lord of Jackals, but your Master of Jackals is naught but a trickster in that regard, of this I am positive," Inhetep added. "For now, I'll say no more on that subject. I must see all of the materials you have, study the clues."

Tallesian was not ready to let the matter drop, and the fact that the wizard-priest denied any connection between Anubis and these murders and extortion did not clear the matter in his mind. In truth, the Behon looked skeptical as well. It was time to reveal some new information. "Do you know there are secret cults of a strange sort in the Teutonic lands? Brettony and Ys itself? There are undoubtedly such hidden shrines and devotees even in Camelough."

"Doesn't every land have its fringe elements?" Inhetep countered. He was obviously becoming bored with this conversation.

The ovate decided to add his weight to the discussion. "What my associate is driving at, Ma-gister, is that there are cults honoring your Egyptian deities, specifically a triad of them."

Setne turned so quickly that he startled his two companions. He towered over them as would a king cobra readying an attack. "What's that you say?!"

"A whole network of secret shrines have been discovered," the Behon supplied blandly. Then, in a voice heavy with meaning, the magus went on: "The three gods are none other than Set, Sobek, and the jackal-headed Anubis."

"You should have told me that long before now," Setne said in a level tone. His face was expressionless, unreadable, but there was a distinct chill in his voice, a message reinforced by his posture. "Had I known that, I would have insisted we put in at Ys to investigate these so-called cults and interrogated any worshippers who could be found."

Tallesian nodded. "We thought as much. That's exactly why we didn't mention it until we were about to dock in Caer-Mabd. You see, we are urgently needed in Camelough. There is no time for such side excursions as you would have insisted on."

The tall /Egyptian sat back in his chair. The cabin seemed smaller and more cramped, as if the wizard-priest had swelled to fill it somehow. Both of the Kellts understood the effect. Inhetep was drawing energy from the others and directing his powers toward some focal point. There could be no question as to what he was concentrating on. His words affirmed that fact. "There is an hour or two before we actually drop anchor. Please tell me everything now, and don't withhold any facts this time. Otherwise . .." Setne allowed his sentence to end there. The meaning didn't require articulation.

There was no hesitation. Both men rapidly told of the findings of multiple investigations into the secret shrines and the triune cult. Set was recognized immediately, even in the hinterlands, as the Egyptian lord of darkness and evil. Sobek, crocodile-headed friend of the dark one, was a natural accompaniment to the former. An-ubis, however, was a strange third. "Our sages say that the Lord of the Jackals has a dual nature," the Behon finally said. "Might not he actually be the son of Set? Isn't it possible for the nature of a deity to change, to manifest itself in ways not before known? Before the struggle between Osiris and Set, it is said that most of your people held the red-haired god as admirable and beneficial—at least to themselves."

"Yes. Yes to both of your latter statements, that is. But no, the initial statement is incorrect. There is no question as to the parentage of An-ubis, and his place is the twilight of the shadowy world, the Duat, where Osiris rules as king, just as it is in the realms of light and of Pet, the high sphere, where Ra reigns supreme." Setne seemed grim as he went on. "Once Sobek was also one of more wholesome nature. It is possible for the greater entities to realign themselves, for they have will as free as our own. Perhaps it is no longer mistaken to consider Anubis as the offspring of the master of Evil, for if the jackal-headed one has allied with Set, then he has become the spiritual child of darkest iniquity."

"I had thought you would approach this with such open-mindedness, Magister Inhetep," the Behon said with a note of compassion in his voice. "We are aware of your devotion to the ibis-headed Thoth. His relationship is that of Balance, though, is it not? We do that no harm when we condemn one of the Twilight Nature and Shadowy Darkness—the high standing of Anubis therein, his involvement ... It is no reflection on the deities of Egypt, Magister, but a sad commentary on but one of its number." The Behon looked into Setne's eyes. "It is up to you to discover just what machinations are afoot here. Then perhaps you can have your righteous gods intervene."

"Perhaps, perhaps," Inhetep murmured. "First, we will go to Camelough. There I will examine all of the bits of evidence you have, just as was promised me. Then I will decide what other steps to take. Death is not evil, not in the natural scheme of things. Evil does not necessarily bring death—or even use its fell and bony hand. Life is often more malicious than its cessation. There is much to learn, many things which must be analyzed and understood, before it will be possible to draw meaningful conclusions."