Greyfax Grimwald (24 page)

“That’s somewhere around how high he stands, when he’s standing, but most of the tune it’s more along here,” and lowering his paw to a foot above the floor, he halted. “Of course, he probably would have looked like a man when you saw him, if he had his wits about him, and I’m not exactly sure what he would look like then. Rather odd, no doubt,” and after a pause he added, “But then so are you all.” Bear met the man’s numbed glance. “No offense, old fellow. These things are all as queer to me as they are to you, and all I want to do is find this particular man everyone’s so taken with, deliver him back to my valley, and take up a nice quiet life of beekeeping.”

Cranfallow closed his eyes tightly, then opened them quickly, hoping to startle away whatever vision he was seeing, but Bear’s huge form still sat, smiling, before him.

“It’s the gourd what’s done this,” stammered Cranfallow. “It’s the bloody barley that’s eaten my brain.”

Bear, at hearing that, remarked, “I’ve got a good stock of barley tea at my cave, which I think might please your taste.” Then, remembering how far away that was, he placed his muzzle in one great paw. “A bloody stinking bear witch,” groaned Cranfallow, and closed the door frantically behind him, not seeing he had missed the latch in his hurry. The great steel frame remained ajar, and Bear padded over, tested it, looked out over the empty grounds between the cell and the building that housed the guard, listened intently for a moment, then not having any idea what else to do, he reassumed his man shape, opened the cell, and quickly made away toward the center of the town. A nagging doubt kept troubling him at having left his rucksack, and the thought of the dragon stone in the hands of man slowed his pace. Darkness had closed over the world, and the streets were deserted, so he stood inside a shallow doorway, trying to decide what he should do. He had his freedom for the moment, but Cranfallow was sure to have given the alarm, or to spread such wild tales among his comrades they would all be coming to goggle at him. Then a thought suddenly presented itself. Quickly he retraced his steps, hurriedly checked for any signs that they had come looking and found him gone, crossed the short open space that separated the beginning of the town street from the guardhouse and the cells behind, secured the lock, and went behind the cell to where he could look in upon its interior from the barred window. Just as he had tiptoed up high enough to see inside, the sound of footsteps hurrying toward the cell rang dully on the hard-tramped earth. They halted before the steel door, voices muttered, the lock turned, and four men, Cranfallow among them, burst into the room.

“He’s bloody disappeared himself,” gasped Cranfallow. “He’s a bloody witch, I tell you. He sat right there not ten minutes ago as big as life all turned into a bloody bear.”

“Cranfallow,” boomed Bear’s best bass voice, low and rumbling at the edges, “Cranfallow, you have betrayed me, now you and your friends shall be punished.”

A creeping white crossed the four faces, eyes shining in fear, and two of the men made for the door, panic heavy in them, turning blood to water.

“Do not move, or I shall pronounce thee stone flies and swat thee dead with my broomtail” threatened Bear, voice deeper, menacing. He almost ruined his whole plan when a snigger stole quietly past his ominous tone, but he contained it in time, and continued.

“Cranfallow, to save thyself, fetch me my rucksack, and say nothing to the other guards. I will send my servant with thee to vouchsafe no betrayal.”

“Yes sir, yes sir,” moaned Cranfallow, blanched face sweating, trembling.

“Go,” commanded Bear, “and your three fellows will stay to make sure you return. Their doom is upon thy head. Do not fail.”

“For the sake of the bloody martyrs do what he says, Cranny. Hurry. I don’t want to end up swatted to death. Go on.” The second man shook heavily about his knees, teeth chattering as he spoke.

Cranfallow darted from the room, his feet barely touching ground as he sped to the guardhouse, blood racing, heart stopped up in his throat. In all his years as a soldier he had never run, and never feared an enemy, but none of them had been witches, or at least if they had, he hadn’t known it, and so wasn’t frightened of them. But meeting one face to face, who dunged form right before him, then vanished into thin air, with nothing left but a voice. No man could stand before that. And the other one, who had hexed them all to sleep, leaving nothing behind him to show he had existed at all No sergeant, or commander, or even bloody general could order him to fight with witches. It wasn’t natural. He’d stand and thrash an enemy bare-handed, and had done so many time, but no witches, no witches for Corporal Cranfallow, none at all, and the sooner they were rid of them, the better off they’d be. He grabbed the heavy rucksack from its peg in the guardhouse, muttered “Orders,” to the startled, sleepy sentry there, and raced back to the lockhole, breathless. Just the fact that the two witches had been there meant no good steady march through the night, perhaps closer than he might imagine.

Bear settled his pack, repeated the spell, and on all fours, set off at a rapid pace, determined to travel on in that manner until daybreak. And Otter, farther ahead than Bear’s calculations allowed, wakened from a nap, and decided his best plan would be to put as much distance between himself and the town as he could before first light.

E
rophin, clear blue-gray eyes turned a sea cloud misty, looked long into the mithra goblet before he spoke again. He had sat quietly, listening to Greyfax’s long story, nodding occasionally, or shaking his silver-maned head sadly. The only part left out of the tale was Dwarf’s capture, which Grimwald knew nothing about, as yet.

“So she has moved, then? We have expected this, but not, I fear, quite so soon.” His soft voice held hidden his troubled heart.

“Our hour is indeed near, if things fare so well with Dorini,” added the ancient Erophin. “It seems you have come seeking advice, and shall receive more, Grimwald. I shall summon all those of my realm who will be of aid to you this moment. And we shall begin to play out our own parts, as is written.”

“A thousand thanks, Master. This is more than I had hoped. I shall set out immediately to hold council with Melodias, and deliver your decision.” Greyfax paced toward the table from where he had been standing, relating his news.

“There is no need, my old friend. I shall go myself to Melodias, and I think your wisest path would be to return to your dwarf, and the box. Dorini will be seeking that most precious item, for if in power of that, Atlanton Earth has no hope to withstand her. You did not do as perhaps I might have done, although I’m sure you held your own reasons for your choice of Arkenchest bearer; yet its guardian is far too weak to refuse it to her, should he be taken.”

“That was my strongest point, O wisest, for she would never imagine the Arkenchest to be left so open to capture. If I’m not too far wrong, she thinks I still carry it, and has busied herself with the task of pursuing me, thereby blinding her to its whereabouts.”

“It feels sound, on the outside of it, yet I would still urge all speed in your return. You will be sorely needed there now.”

Erophin looked up from his glass. “My mind unfolds the darkness, and I see now your Arkenchest with another, not Dorini, but yes, it is your Fairingay that holds it. I see only a faint image; a wall of cold mist hides the dwarf from my thought.”

Greyfax stiffened, rubbing a hand quickly across his brow.

“Then he is taken.” He smashed his fist onto the table. “And it’s my own fault, for I thought she would not suspect mm.”

“Did you speak to him of the thing he carried? Of what his father carried before him? Erophin asked anxiously.

“He knew nothing of that, although he might have guessed from the things I allowed him to see. But at our last meeting he told me of his confusion, and I don’t think he realized the extent of the weight laid upon him.”

“She has ways of freeing all things hidden in a mind, whether one is aware of them or not. If she has questioned him closely, we have been struck a sharp blow. Perhaps too sharp a blow for us to realize its consequences yet.” Cephus, the King, rang a small, pear-shaped bell, which sounded softly through the throne chamber. Presently a messenger appeared, dad in deep mist-silver livery. Cephus spoke quickly, and the messenger disappeared, footfalls fading gently away into the antechamber.

“We must move swiftly if we are to avoid further defeat on Atlanton Earth. You, Greyfax, must set out at once to do what you can where you’re needed most. I shall go to Melodias, and those I have chosen from my realm will seek out the defenders of the Light. All speed will be slow enough to turn this tide,” said Erophin, “for I see all heavily sieged upon that sphere. Yet there is still resistance, and all is not dark at this hour. If we but contain her this time, all will be in readiness for the new dawning.”

Greyfax, eager to be off, made the sacred sign of the circle, bowed low, and was once more flashing away down the broad highway of stars that whirled and spun in glowing circles about him. His heart was full of the news of Dwarf’s capture, and not he, nor Erophin, nor .any others of the Circle of Light could offer aid to Dwarf where he now was imprisoned in the frozen palace of Dorini. Heavy was his reproach at his close mouth, and his decision not to tell Dwarf of the Secret he carried innocently, for that, and that alone, could help him now, in his dark, tortured mind. And it was that Secret which Dorini sought, for it was of the Arkenchest, that great symbol of all who opposed her, a sign of light and life that thwarted her cunning designs to darken the universe into eternal frozen wastes.

If Froghorn did indeed hold safe the Chest, then it was beyond harm in Cypher, of that he was sure. But that did not alter Dwarf’s imprisonment or lessen the danger of Dorini discovering his Secret Of Otter and Bear, Erophin had said nothing, so it was to the valley he guided his course, whispering like a flowing river of light through time and space, faster still, until all dimension and light were fused, and he came through that dim corridor out upon the rim of the valley, which now lay buried in ruin before him.

Even his haste could not turn back the months that had slipped by, irretrievably, since Dorini took Dwarf to her poisoned, malignant heart.

A
fter carefully studying the ruins of the dwarf house, otter holt, and bear cave, Greyfax Grimwald sat down upon Broco’s ruined table to see what he might read from the fire. He laid the small sticks of the sacred trees before him, and they burst into a brilliant white flame as he removed his hand. The white flames bowed, touching the gray figure’s brow, and Greyfax looked far and wide over and under earth, past regions of flying maned stars, deeper still into the fire. A high, thin arch of bluish white light spiraled away upward, until it had vanished from sight. Raven saw it from far away, thought it a lightning flash, and turned to the more urgent business of gathering food for his hungry family.

The wizard’s eyes reflected back the brilliant light, and there came to him Melodias, and their minds opened to each other. Cephas Starkeeper had reached the king, he learned, and the two were in council when Greyfax called them to the seeing eye of the fire. Greyfax made the seventh sign of the holly and Melodias disappeared, to be replaced by I’one, then En’the. Having gathered all he could, and delivered his intelligence in return, Greyfax bade the fire turn upon itself to reveal the destruction of Dwarf’s fair valley. His heart grew heavy as he saw the dark shroud of Cakgor’s passing, settling over the house of Dwarf, and the narrow escape of Froghorn, son of Fairenaus Fairingay. He promised him self to lessen his scolding when next he met his impetuous young friend, but even a mild rebuke from the elder of Grimwald was one counted harsh among those who knew him. He watched further, relieved to see what instructions Froghorn had given Otter and Bear, and saw their almost fatal adventure with the two werewolves.

“Well, at least that’s done with an inkling of sense, my good Fairingay,” he said aloud, reaching out his hands to warm them on the now sleeping flames. He replaced the cooling sticks of the sacred trees back into the folds of his heavy winter cloak, and prepared to leave the valley. He whistled twice in an ancient fashion for An’yim and while waiting for the great steed to reach him, he once more went through the broken ruins of Dwarf’s house.