The Deep Gods (12 page)

“In my own land there were such fires,” Ammi said. “We did not fear them. But then, we were not cowards or slavers, either.”

“Did the earth shake, and 
gape
 open, spitting poison?” Ulff asked. “Here, it does, often. Sometimes the very hills change, and walk about. Also, there are beasts, like nothing elsewhere, huge and evil. And there are spirits, too, I have heard.”

Ammi shrugged. It was growing darker, but she saw the red glows in the sky and did not feel pleased at that. That light might prevent her plan to escape.

“But that’s not the worst,” Ulff said with a grim smile. “There are the little folk. No taller than a child, black, and…”

“You are afraid of children, too?” Ammi inquired sympathetically.

Ulff’s teeth gleamed. “If you met those, you’d fear them. They hunt men for meat. They are too swift to be seen; they know much magic. And their arrows are as small as my finger, yet when a man’s struck by one, he dies screaming. Or worse, he doesn’t die, and they take him into the forest.” Ulff stopped, barely managing to hide his shudder.

“We know all this, in Esmare,” he said after a while. “We have wise men who know all the world’s shapes. 
Great houses, and wealth, and many ships and slaves, too.”
 He watched her. “I am cousin to the King himself, do you know?”

The girl’s face was nearly invisible in the dimness, now. But somehow, Ulff did not think her expression had changed. She was not impressed at all.

“We of Esmare know how to live well,” he said, yawning.

He grows very weary, Ammi thought. And the fools had tied my hands, but in front, her mind said.

“So, Esmare is a great and wonderful place, then?” she asked. “But that other land, Iskarth, is greater of course?”

“Ah, no,” Ulff said indignantly. “Iskarth lies in the mountains, west of Esmare. They’ve few ships because there is but one way to the western sea from that place… and nowhere to sail to, once out. You see, there’s only wide sea from the western shore to the edge of the world, so the people of Iskarth must send their goods to us to take to market.” He chuckled. “Or trade with the lands in the low country, which they can no longer do.”

“Why not?”

“We have been warring with the lowland kingdoms for these last few years,” Ulff said, and yawned once more. His voice was growing slow with sleep and he had not noticed that none of the men stood guard. “It’s about the kingdom of Numith, of course… but we’ll take it, soon. And that will be the end of the lowlanders, rot them. With the Great One’s help… ah, but you’ve never heard of him, have you, girl? He’s a god, some think, or maybe a great demon. Lives in the Locked Sea, east, with all the demons around him… that witchman who’s drowned now, Oggayr, he’s one of the Great One’s servants. They…” 
Another huge yawn.
 “… 
talk
 to the creature, bring his commands…” Ulff’s voice trailed off.

Ammi listened quietly to his snoring. She waited, her strong teeth working steadily on the cords, her mind recalling exactly where each man in the party had lain down to sleep.

The red glow in the sky seemed to lessen at times, Ammi noticed. When it was brightest she could barely make out the rocks and the dim sleeping shapes; she decided to wait till it went down.

Her wrists were free now and Ulff’s snores were deep and regular. Listening, it seemed to Ammi that the snores were actually causing the solid ground under her to vibrate, like a sounding board. Then, with a chill of fear, she discovered that the ground was, in fact, doing just that She could feel a quiver under her hand; a steady thudding like the pulse of an incredibly huge beast

There would be no chance to flee if the sound awoke the warriors. Ammi moved very quietly.

But she could not resist Ulff’s weapon, lying next to him, the sheathed broadsword; the knife was unreachable, underneath him, but the sword was free. She slid it slowly out of the sheath that was strapped to Ulff’s belt, and balanced it in her hand. It was monstrously heavy, but it was the only weapon she could reach.

She could feel the thudding sound now, through her sandals; it seemed to have grown louder. She slipped quickly to the pathway and ran downhill, the way they had come.

It was difficult to make swift progress in the darkness, though the red light seemed to have grown much brighter. Ammi hacked at the stouter brush with the sword, pressing on as quickly as she could. They would certainly follow, she knew, but they feared the darkness, too. She feared it herself, but she preferred it to the men of Esmare.

The curious noises in the ground changed now; there was a shock, and then a new, harder shock.

Suddenly the ground seemed to heave as though it were water; Ammi found 
herself
 flung headlong, still clutching the sword. The earth rolled and plunged and an enormous noise came from all around. The strange smell in the air grew chokingly thick, too.

Then it was quiet again.

Ammi scrambled cautiously to her feet and went on. That must have been the earth-shake that Ulff had mentioned, she thought. Well, it had been nothing so fearful, after all; she chuckled as she ran.

She went on and on, hoping that her sense of direction was carrying her in the right line, toward the distant coast. Once, she encountered trees with a familiar fruit on them, the same small brown fruit she had eaten in the river country. She paused, unable to stand her hunger any longer, and ate some of them. Then she went on.

The sky was faintly grey in the east; Ammi stopped, panicked. The east lay behind her! She had been moving west, away from the coast. She felt a momentary weakness, but she gripped the sword harder and turned south again, dizzy with weariness.

She went much more slowly now, and at last she could move no further. She stood still and looked around; if she could manage to hide herself, perhaps…

The forest here was denser—tall bushy-topped trees and deep brush, and Ammi heard the sound of water, a brook. She was thirsty, too; she plunged into the bushes, heading for the sound.

Then she emerged on the bank of a wide creek, and knelt, drinking greedily.

There was a reflection in the ripples, Ammi saw. And whatever it was, it wasn’t herself. She picked up the blade that she had dropped beside her as she drank, rose, and turned to face it

It was a living mountain, she thought dizzily; a monster taller than two men, grey and towering. It stood only yards away, watching her out of tiny sharp eyes. The creature had sweeping horns that were planted in its mouth, oddly; and even more oddly, a long tentacle that curled up and came inquisitively toward her.

Ammi gasped and swung her sword at the tentacle, missing it. The living mountain uttered a tremendous toot. Then, suddenly, the sword was dragged from her hand and small hands were clutching at her; around her, there were a dozen tiny black men, grinning and gesturing ferociously. The man-eaters, she thought, and the world spun dizzily as she fell.

On the hill, the earthquake in the night had awakened Ulff and his men. In the darkness, they had fumbled about, cursing; it was not long before they knew the girl was gone. Ulff’s rage made his usual explosions seem mild by comparison, especially when he discovered his sword was missing too. He completely forgot his prohibition of fires, earlier; he kicked and thrust men down the slope to gather suitable lengths of pine for torches, and lit a blaze with which to ignite them.

The men of Esmare were still terrified of the darkness, and of the fabled little men; but Ulff was much more to be feared, being present. Before the torches were ready, one man’s arm had been broken, and a second lay groaning with a broken head.

And then, supporting their two wounded, the party began to follow the girl’s trail, downward. It was plain enough at first, even by torchlight, since she had been unable to take time to avoid breaking branches. The ominous red sky-glow helped too, though it did not make any of the Esmare men feel better.

They followed, down along the pass, and then southward. Her trail was less certain now, but Ulff felt sure she would have headed back toward the sea. It was the only place where she could seek help, he reasoned. Therefore, her pursuers passed the point at which Ammi had swung westward, and they continued to stumble through the darkness, south.

The men were strung into a long line now, Ulff at the head, their torches flickering in the still air. He bent low, to look at what seemed to be bent grass. Then, behind him, there was an odd strangled cry.

“What…” Ulff snarled, straightening. He could see nothing except bobbing torches; the men were bunching up, muttering in terror.

“Lord, something’s happened to Luffik!” one of them said.

“Luffik?”
 Ulff said, staring around. There was no answer, and the man was definitely gone.

“Damned pissing coward!”
 Ulff growled. “Ducked, has he?” He glared at the others. “Call yourselves warriors? Prickless mealworms! Too damned lazy to set watch, and afraid of your own shadows! Luffik’s hiding out there. Probably hears me well enough, too.” Ulff stared into the dark and raised his voice. “Now, then, you diseased son of a shiprat, if you’ll stop your game and come back here, I’ll…” He choked on the necessity for forbearance, but succeeded somehow, “I’ll forget your foolishness, for this time, and break none of your bones. Do you hear?”

Ulff waited, but there was no sound.

“If we leave you here,” he roared, “and you live, cockroach, be certain I’ll find you again, and when I do, I’ll feed you on your own liver!”

There was still no sound.

“Run away, then,” Ulff growled, and turned to the cowering men. “Well, spread out, let’s go on. We’ll have the girl before…”

There had been an odd sound, as if a large bee had gone by. One of the men suddenly collapsed, his torch falling to the ground. He made a queer kicking movement, as if trying to swim, and was still.

“The little people!” somebody said in a shaking voice.

Possibly it was those fearful beings, Ulff thought, surprised to discover 
his own
 guts beginning to knot with terror. He stared into the darkness and brought his shield round to his front.

“Shields together, you 
fools
!” He moved in close, forcing the others to hold their shields in the defensive ring, though they had no idea of what they defended themselves against. Ulff pointed to a shadowy tree. “There! 
Backs against it, shields up!”

They stood in a circle, elbow to elbow; the torches out now. There was just enough light for Ulff to see a little; he reasoned that here it would be difficult for an enemy to approach.

In a few moments, one of the men cried out and 
fell,
 his shield over him. The circle closed tighter.

Then another fell, but this one screamed abominably for minutes. The 
remainder were
 quaking visibly.

A man broke loose suddenly, and gasping in terror, ran. They heard him crashing through the bushes for minutes; then, at a considerable distance, they heard him cry out.

Two more, believing from their comrade’s death that the enemy must lie in that 
direction,
 ran the other way. They did not get as far as he had, and one of them screamed as the other had done.

It was quite simple, Ulff thought as he knelt beside the body of the next one. He had found the little arrow, no bigger than a hand’s length, a mere dart, only an inch into the dead man’s forearm. They’re in the darkness, and they will kill all of us, one after another, with these things. He grunted and grasped a fallen shield, drawing it toward himself; then another, and a third.

Next to him, the three survivors peered into the dark, but could not understand what their chief did. He felt no need to explain. The clods would be dead soon, in any case, and why waste wisdom on a corpse?

He leaned one shield against his legs, held another on each hand, and crouched; a moment later, he heard the deadly bee-buzz note, and a tiny arrow broke on one of his shields. Then the buzz came again, and a man dropped. Ulff collected his shield too, and waited.

The dawn came much 
to
 slowly to suit him; but at least, he thought, he was still alive. Under his shield rim, he stared into the growing light. There was nothing. Not even a body, he suddenly realized, except for the two beside him.

Then they do use man’s meat, Ulff thought, grinding his teeth.

Not mine, damn them, he told himself.

The tales were all true, then. Maybe the tale that they moved only at night was true, as well. Ulff straightened up and slung a pair of the shields across his shoulders, grasped a sword and moved out, watchfully.

They were gone, then, he thought. Good enough; he’d catch the wench himself, unless the mysterious little folk had already dined on her flesh… and if not, well, Ulff could think of what to do with that flesh. He smacked his lips and grinned. Why, he needed no warriors to help him; the fools had only entangled his feet. Deserved what they got, he thought, and 
may
 the little people enjoy their dinner.

Ulff’s thoughts had grown lighter for several minutes. And he was beginning to feel fine when the earth gave way under him with dreadful suddenness. He fell with a clatter of iron, landing on his back, and looking upward, he perceived several small black heads at the lighted entrance to the pit in which he lay.

“Be quiet, hairy man,” a voice called down. And there was an unnerving sound of high-pitched laughter.

When night had come, the party of river men had reached the first stages of the rising pass. The trail of their enemy was clear, but they could easily lose it in the darkness. More than that, they had come a long way, very fast; they were exhausted. As it grew darker, the group sat down and waited.

Daniel could not sleep; he sat, his back against a tree, looking wide-eyed into the dark, resting his chin on his sword hilt.

Out of the darkness, next to him, Lali’s voice came softly.

“Ammi lives, Daniel,” she said. “I am a woman. We know such things.”