The Deep Gods (14 page)

Daniel stared at the fire, wondering. A civilized place… the thought drew him. And the wall itself; it was bound into his fate, he knew, though it became less and less clear what the key could be. He remembered the fable of the man who had been told that death would meet him in Damascus, and went to Samarra instead.

He remembered too, that death had met the man in the market, and said, in surprise, “I was told to meet you here, but I knew you had business in Damascus… but, since you’re here…”

Daniel grinned quietly. There were things that should not be avoided, he thought. Besides which, Numith sounded like the best place in a good many ways.

“Would you wish to come with me, to Numith?” he asked Ammi.

“Where would I go, except with you?” she asked sleepily.

“Good, then,” he said, and looked across the fire toward the others. “Lali, Galta and Banar, you would be happiest in the river country, though I might not. Go back and teach them to build ships like the ones the Esmare men use, and defend themselves. Ammi will come with me to Numith.”

“You’ll come back soon to our land,” Lali said. Daniel noticed the way she now referred to the river country.

“We may have to come to you, in Numith,” Galta said quietly.

Again, in the night, the earth had shaken violently, and flares of light had brightened the sky. The pygmies did not seem to be at all concerned about it; apparently it was a normal happening. Their huts swayed, but were constructed to ride with the shocks and not collapse.

The warriors of the river people were not as calm about it; the recurring shocks made them hurry on their departure.

The Numithians, while not afraid of the quakes, seemed equally anxious to move. They were on their way, early in the morning, moving northwest through a forest that lay along the slopes of the mountain ranges. There were twelve of the elephants, in a long line, the six men of Numith and Daniel and Ammi, riding. Most of the great beasts were loaded with sacks, trading with the pygmies.

“Skins,” Zadosh said as they swayed through the forest.
“Especially a fine, tough skin for shields and armor.
Also a few bags of a white metal, of great value when mixed with other metals.
Not the metal itself, merely the ore, of course.”

The ground shook again and Zadosh cast a look at the range of hills behind them. There was more smoke, Daniel thought.

“One fire-mountain, there,” Zadosh said, pointing. “It was very hot, this time. Sometimes there are vast flows of fire, and the ground itself splits.” He shrugged. “But we are nearly out of the worst parts.”

“What else do you buy from the pygmies?” Daniel asked.

“There are herbs of great usefulness, in medicine, and for other things,” Zadosh said. “Those are the most valuable things we bring, though not the largest in size.” He grinned.
“Except yourself, Lord Daniel.”

As they rode he told them more of the Numithian traders, and of other things. The traders of Numith went into many lands, he said; some into the north, which Daniel thought to be Europe, from Zadosh’s descriptions. But it was apparently very different from the Europe of his own time; a land of forests and wild beasts, with a few tribes along the coasts and rivers. It seemed to be drier and colder, too, from what Zadosh said. Once more Daniel tried to guess at how far into the past he had come, but failed. Give or take a few thousand years, he thought; it hardly mattered.

There were people in the distant east, too, Zadosh said; and they spoke a different language from that of most men. At that, Daniel listened more closely.

“Are they different in other ways, in face, or color?” Daniel asked.

Zadosh grinned. “Oh, yes. Some of them…” He put his fingers at the corners of his eyes and made a very expressive imitation of a Mongolian eye-fold. “But there are others, more like ourselves,” he added. “I have never been there, myself, and few traders go now, because the ships of Esmare are between us. But we know of a dozen kingdoms, some great and powerful ones.”

Gradually, as Zadosh talked, Daniel began to form a mental map of this part of the earth; he tried to identify areas, not to his own complete satisfaction. The wall, and Numith itself, he knew must be the Gibraltar area; Numith seemed to be on the Spanish side of the straits… which were not straits at all, but a deep ravine. Iskarth would lie in North
Africa,
and Esmare on a vast arm of the sea which must cover the Sahara.

In the broad valleys which took in the Mediterranean basin, there were narrow seas, lakes and rivers in a chain from west to east, bordered by dozens of kingdoms. And far to the east, there was no Bosporus, no entry to the Black Sea; no Black Sea, itself, but a much larger sea that covered the Caspian, the Aral, the whole land to the shores of the Caucasus.

It was as though the maps he knew had been twisted and pulled, redrawn inexpertly by a drunken god.

“Your pardon,” Zadosh said after they had ridden awhile in silence. He looked curiously at Daniel, and seemed to search for words for a moment

“I find it strange that one like
yourself
should know almost nothing of the lands and people of the world,” Zadosh said. “Is your own land so far away, then?” He looked a little worried. “I would not pry, of course… but we had heard that there is land on the other side of the western sea, and yet…”

“It’s difficult to explain,” Daniel said slowly. “But I will try. Except that you might think I’m mad…”

He told Zadosh everything he could; and the Numithian listened, silently, with no trace of disbelief.

“I know that I was born in another time, in another body,” Daniel finished. “But I don’t know how I came to be here. The Morra-ayar told me that the one you call the ‘lost one’ brought me into this world… and I suppose there’s no reason not to believe them. But understanding it… that’s another matter.”

“Ah.” Zadosh nodded. “Doubtless your people were like many I have heard speak, even today.” He smiled. “I begin to see how the world you come from was made. First, as there are now, men began to forget all wisdom about
themselves
, and turn to foolish things, tools and bricks and the like. Then, they forgot that they were flesh, and they made gods that looked very like themselves. We have those, even now.” He did not look at Daniel as he went on. “And then, they became as you described them… no longer truly men at all, but a kind of… plague.”

Daniel stared at Zadosh for a moment,
then
he nodded.

“Yes.”

“I shall be long dead, when things have come that far,” Zadosh said. He sighed, staring ahead as the elephant swayed on. After a while he spoke again.

“Yet, you are not evil,” he said. “I feel that. And the Morra-ayar themselves wish you well.” He scowled, rubbing his knuckles against his beaked nose. “And you must possess some hidden knowledge, or why…” He shrugged. “You are no magician, certainly. You do not even understand the magic by which the lost one brought you here, you say.”

“Magic?”
Daniel said. “In my world, there was no magic, except trickery. We believed only in natural laws.”

“Why, man, did you think I meant matters not natural?” Zadosh said, looking puzzled. “No, I meant…” He moved his hands out in a confused gesture. “There are forces, you see… we name them, and learn how they are controlled, and sometimes we use them. One who does so with great skill is a magician, of course. Why, did you not do so with black powders, in a clay pot, yourself?”

Daniel searched vainly for a word that meant “science”… and discovered that there was none. He gave up; Zadosh seemed amused.

“I think I begin to see my errors of speech,” he said. “You spoke of engines, machines… these things you made, in your world. You mentioned a force that worked these things… like the lightning, you said.
Also, the powers of fire, and wind… not so?
Well, then. Did your people know of the…” Zadosh scratched his head. “We call one of these pirasha, and another eszain. But you would not know such words, of course. One is a force that runs through the flesh of living things, and another is in the air. Another is like that which causes a weight to fall to the ground…”

“Gravity?”
Daniel was puzzled. “The other things you describe… no, I don’t think we knew them. Are these the forces that you call magic?”

Zadosh nodded.
“Of course.
We are but ordinary men, without skill, or the special strengths needed… but such a one as the lost one, or even a magician of our own, in Numith, could use such forces.”

Privately, Daniel thought there was a certain amount of superstition in Zadosh’s words. It sounded very much like the medieval stuff he had heard about; mysterious forces, odic energy, yoga. It was probably all nonsense, he thought. But then, he was no nearer finding the truth, whatever it might be.

“This magic,” Daniel asked, diplomatically forcing a tone of acceptance. “You have men in Numith who are… magicians? Can these forces be used? I mean
,
to do work, for instance? Or to defend your city, when the Esmare warriors attack?”

Zadosh looked strangely at Daniel, a look of shock.

“Now, I know in truth that your world knew nothing of magic,” Zadosh said in an odd voice. “You would never speak so. No, Lord Daniel, some tools may not be used to kill, or they may slay the user.” He forced a smile. “Have we not tools enough now? The sword, the spear, the arrow and stone… why, if we knew better ways, there might be no living man left on earth.”

I know better ways, Daniel thought grimly, remembering. But no one else in this world would know them, if he had his choice.

Before the wars, the road that led to the southern forests had been a relatively direct one; but nowadays, the traders took a wide circuit around the borders of Iskarth, and then up along a desert trail to Numithian territory. They rode along this way now; the desert on one side, and at a distance, the sea. The Atlantic, Daniel thought, staring at it as the elephant moved along.
But to these people, the western sea.

“In another hour, we come to the village called the Well of Basara,” Zadosh said happily.
“A small place, but the first portion of Numith, and home.
The city is a day’s journey farther, but Basara has an inn.” He ran his tongue over sun-dried lips. “There will be wine, and a bath.”

“A bath!”
Ammi said wistfully.

“There is a garrison, too, to guard the road against Iskarth,” Zadosh said, peering ahead into the glare of sunlight “But they have never come south, so far. Ah, I think I see…”

The track wound around a rise, and their elephant was at the highest point as Zadosh spoke. Now the beast stopped, suddenly, and the others behind halted too; the elephant blew, a deep snorting sound, and lifted his trunk, searching the air.

Basara lay ahead, down the long slope. It was a town of a few hundred houses, walled with mud-brick; flat-roofed, white in the desert sun. It was so like any North African town of his own time that Daniel, looking at it, felt an odd sense of shock.

But then he caught the faint odor that the elephant had already sensed. Beside him, Zadosh groaned.

The wooden gates were open, hanging at an angle; and on the earth under the walls and the gateway there were still dark shapes, tiny at this distance. But they were dead men and horses, and the broken wrecks of chariots. And the odor was the smell of burning, and of death.

A thin haze of smoke hung over Basara; and now, in the desert air, a faint sound came. It was a clatter of weapons, and shouting; on the house roofs, there were moving figures.

“Iskarth!” one of the other traders cried out. Another snarled a word and unsheathed a short, wide-bladed sword.

“No!” Zadosh called out, lifting a hand to stop the others. “We are six! We cannot…”

“Too late,” Daniel said. “We’ve been seen.”

Dust was rising from the trail between the town and the hilltop, and the sound of hoofbeats came. Now Daniel could see horsemen, at least a dozen or more, and the gleam of metal.
And chariots, two of them, among the riders, coming swiftly.

At a swift order from Zadosh, the elephants were wheeling, spreading out into a line, and two of the traders were busily opening one of the pack saddles for some reason. But Daniel’s attention was on the attacking group. He drew the long iron blade taken from the men of Esmare, and behind him Ammi was stringing her bow.

The horsemen spread into a crescent line, each man with a long javelin raised to throw as they came nearer. The two chariots swung around and across the line of elephants, curving in closer as they came. In each one a tall blond, bearded man stood braced next to another, who drove. And as the first chariot reached the elephants, spears flew. The rider’s tactic was to drive down the line of beasts, hurl his spear, wheel and run back; and Daniel gripped his sword in impotent rage. If a spear should strike an elephant in the trunk, the beast would go mad with pain, Daniel knew. These men had dealt with elephants before, it seemed.

Behind him, Ammi’s bow twanged, just as the first chariot passed. The driver veered, though he did not seem hurt; a spear fell short.

Then Zadosh roared a command, and Daniel saw what the other trader had been taking from the pack. Each elephant was now armed with a vicious-looking weapon—a long curved blade attached to a short haft, gripped in the trunk. Swinging their hook-swords, the elephants lurched forward, trumpeting.

The melee was wrapped in a dense cloud of dust, and for minutes Daniel had no idea which way the battle was going. Sunflower had totally demolished a chariot and both men, almost at once.

Now, with an ear-shattering squeal, the elephant crashed through milling riders, his blade slashing to either side. He wheeled with amazing agility and slashed again while Daniel tried to reach a man with his sword, and missed. Behind him, Ammi was calmly aiming and releasing her arrows, though it seemed a miracle that she was able to stay on the elephant at all.

It was over as suddenly as it had begun. Some of the riders had saved their lives by flight, and were galloping away. Both chariots were smashed. And now the elephants trotted toward the town, their feet thundering on the hard earth.