The Spell Sword (17 page)

"I will send for him and you can hear it from his own lips," said Ellemir. She
beckoned a servant and gave the message, and after a little while Andrew Carr
came into the Great Hall. Damon, watching the Earthman bowing to Dom Esteban,
thought that at least these people were no savages.

Prompted by Damon, Carr gave a brief account of how he had come into contact
with Callista. Esteban looked grave and thoughtful.

"I cannot say that I approve of this," he said, "For a Keeper to make such close
contact with a stranger from outside her own caste is unheard-of, and
scandalous. In the old days of the Domains, wars were fought on Darkover for
less than this. But times change, whether we like the changes or not, and
perhaps as things stand now it is more important to save her from the cat-men
than from the disgrace of such a rapport."

"Disgrace?" Andrew Carr said, flushing deeply. "I mean her no harm or dishonor,
sir. I wish her nothing but the best, and I have offered to risk my life to set
her free."

"Why?" Esteban asked curtly. "She can be nothing to you, man; a Keeper is
pledged a virgin."

Damon hoped Carr would have sense enough not to say anything about his own
emotional attachment to Callista; but not trusting Andrew to hold his tongue, he
said, "Dom Esteban, he has already risked his life to make contact with her; for
a man of his age, untrained, to work through a starstone is no light matter." He
scowled at Andrew, trying to convey "Shut up, let well enough alone."

In any case, Dom Esteban, whether from pain or worry, did not pursue the topic,
but turned to Damon. "You know, then, where Callista is?"

"We have reason to believe she is in the caves of Corresanti," Damon said, "and
Andrew can lead us to her."

Dom Esteban snorted. "There's a lot of countryside between here and Corresanti,
and all of it chock full of cat-men, and blasted villages," he said. "It lies
half a day's ride into the darkening lands."

"That can't be helped," Damon said. "You managed to get through them, which
proves it can be done. At least they cannot come on us veiled by invisibility,
while I have my starstone."

Esteban thought about that; nodded slowly. "I had forgotten you were
Tower-trained," he said. "What about the Earthman? Will he come with you?"

Andrew said, "I'm going. I seem to be the only link to Callista. Besides, I
swore to her that I would rescue her."

Damon shook his head. "No, Andrew. No, my friend. Just because you are the only
link with Callista, we dare not risk you. If you were killed, even accidentally,
we might never make our way to her, or recover only her dead body, too late. You
stay at Armida, and maintain contact with me, through the starstone."

Stubbornly, Carr shook his head. "Look, I'm going," he said. "I'm a lot bigger
and tougher than you think. I've knocked around on half a dozen worlds. I can
take care of myself, Damon. Hell, man, I'd make two of you!"

Damon sighed, and thought, Maybe he can; he got here through the blizzard. I
couldn't have done that well if I were lost on a strange world. "Possibly you're
right," he said. "How good are you with a sword?"

Damon saw the faint surprise and hesitation in the Earth-man's face. "I don't
know. My people don't use them except for sport. I could learn, though. I learn
fast."

Damon raised his eyebrows. "It's not that easy," he said. His people use swords
only for sport? How do they defend themselves, then? Knives, like the
Dry-Towners, or fists? If so, they may be stronger than we are. Or have the
Terrans gone beyond the Compact, and banned all weapons that can kill at all?

He said, "Eduin," and the big Guardsman, lounging near the door, sprang to
attention. "Vai dom?"

"Step over to the armory, and get a couple of practice swords."

After a moment Eduin returned, bearing two of the wood-and-leather weapons used
for training in swordsmanship. Damon took one in his hand, extended the other to
Carr. The Earthman looked curiously at the long blunt stick of springy wood,
with braided leather covering the edge and tip, then experimentally gripped it
in his palm. Damon, frowning at the unpracticed grip, asked bluntly, "Have you
ever touched a sword before in your life?"

"A little fencing for sport. I'm no champion."

I can well believe that, Damon thought, slipping on the leather headpiece. He
looked at Carr over his right shoulder through the grillwork that protected his
face: the practice swords bent easily enough that there was not much danger of
damaging a bone or an internal organ, but eyes and teeth were more vulnerable.

Carr faced him straight on. Chest exposed, Damon thought, and he handles the
thing as if he were poking the fire.

Andrew stepped forward; Damon lifted his sword only slightly, brushing the
weapon aside. As the big man went off balance, the leather tip caught Carr in
the chest. Then Damon relaxed, lowering the tip to the floor. He slowly shook
his head. He said, "You see, my friend? And I'm no swordsman. I wouldn't last
half a dozen strokes against anyone even halfway competent; Dom Esteban, or
Eduin here, would have had the sword out of my hand before I got it up."

"I'm sure I could learn," Carr protested stubbornly.

"Not in time," Damon said. "Believe me. Andrew, I began to train with these
swords before I was eight years old. Most lads begin at least a year before
that. You're strong-I can see that. You're even fairly fast on your feet. But we
couldn't even teach you enough, in a week, to keep you from getting killed. And
we haven't got a week. We haven't even got a day. Forget it, Andrew. You've got
something more important to do than carrying a sword."

"And do you think you're going to lead a party of swordsmen against the
cat-people?" Dom Esteban asked sardonically. "Eduin here could do to you what
you did to the Earthman, in seconds."

Damon looked around at the man lying motionless. Esteban had motioned the tray
of food away, and was watching them fixedly, his eyes bright with something like
anger. He said, "Show some sense, Damon. I kept you in the Guards because the
men like you and you're a good organizer and administrator. But this is a job
for a master swordsman. Are you so blind to facts that you think you could go up
against swordsmen who could cut down the whole castle Guard here at Armida and
steal Callista right out of her bed? Am I marrying my daughter to a fool?"

Ellemir said in a rage, "Father, how dare you! You cannot talk like that to
Damon!"

Damon motioned to her to be quiet. He faced the older man straightforwardly, and
said, "I know that, kinsman. I probably know more about my own deficiencies than
you do. Just the same, no man can do more than his best, and this is my right. I
am now Callista's closest kinsman, except for Domenic, and he is not yet
seventeen."

Esteban smiled grimly. He said, "Well, my son, I admire your spirit; I wish you
had the skill to go with it." He raised his fists and beat them against the
pillow, in a fit of fury. "Zandru's hells! Here I lie, broken-down and useless
as Durraman's donkey, and all my skill and all my knowledge-" The fit subsided
at last and he said, his voice weaker than before, "If I had time to teach you,
you're not so hopeless-but there's no time, no time. You say with your starstone
you can throw off their accursed illusion of invisibility?"

Damon nodded. Eduin came forward to the bedside and knelt there. He said, "Lord
Istvan. I owe the Lord Damon a life. Let me go with them to Corresanti."

Damon said, deeply moved, "You're wounded, man. And you've been through one
battle."

"All the same," Eduin protested, "you have said my skill with a sword is greater
than your own. Let me go to guard you, Lord Damon; your task is to bear the
starstone."

"Merciful Avarra," Dom Esteban said almost under his breath, "that is the
answer!"

"I will gladly have your company and your sword, if you are able," Damon said,
laying his hand on Eduin's shoulder. In his sensitized state he was
overwhelmingly aware of the man's outpouring of loyalty and gratitude, and he
felt almost abashed by it. "But you owe your service to the Lord Esteban; it is
for him to give you leave to go with me."

Both men turned to Esteban, who lay motionless; his eyes were closed and his
brow knitted as if deep in thought. For a moment Damon wondered if they had
exhausted the wounded man too much, but he could feel that beneath the closed
eyes there was some very active thinking going on. Esteban's eyes suddenly flew
open.

"Just how good are you with that starstone, Damon?" he asked. "I know you have
laran, you spent years in the Tower, but didn't Leonie kick you out again? If it
was for incompetence, this won't work, but-"

"It wasn't for incompetence," Damon said quietly. "Leonie did not complain of my
skill, only that I was too sensitive, and my health, she felt, would suffer."

"Look me in the eye. Is that truth or vanity, Damon?"

There were times, Damon thought, when he positively detested the brutal old man.

He met Esteban's eyes without flinching and said, "As I remember, you have
enough laran to find out for yourself."

Esteban's lips nicked in that mirthless grin again. He said, "From somewhere,
you've gotten courage enough to stand up to me, kinsman, and that's a good sign.

As a lad you were afraid of me. Is it only because I'll never move out of this
bed again that you've got courage to confront me now?" He returned Damon's gaze
for an instant-a harsh touch like a firm grip-and then said tersely, "My apology
for doubting you, kinsman, but this is too important to spare anyone's feelings,
even my own. Do you think I like confronting the fact that someone else will
rescue my favorite daughter? Just the same. You are skilled with a starstone.

Have you ever heard the story of Regis the Fifth? The Hasturs were kings in
those days; it was before the crown passed into the Elhalyn line."

Damon frowned, searching in memory of old legends. "He lost a leg in the battle
of Dammerung Pass-?"

"No," said Dom Esteban, "he lost a leg by treachery, when he was set on in his
bed by assassins; so that he could not fight in a duel and would forfeit a good
half of the Hastur lands. Yet he sent his brother Rafael to the battle, and
Rafael, who was a monkish man with little knowledge of swordplay, nevertheless
fought in single combat with seven men and killed them all. To this day Castle
Hastur stands in Hastur hands at the edge of the mountains. And this he could do
because, as Regis lay in his bed not yet able to rise and hobble about on
crutches, he made contact through his brother's starstone with his sword, and
the monkish Rafael bore the sword of Regis into the fight, wielding it with all
of Regis' skill."

"A fairy tale," said Damon, but he felt a strange prickle go up and down his
spine.

Dom Esteban moved his head as much as he could for the sandbags and said
vehemently, "By the honor of the Alton Domain, Damon, it is no fairy tale. The
skill was known in the old times, but in these days few of the Comyn have the
strength or the wish to dare so much. In these days the starstones are left
mostly to women. Yet, if I thought you had the skills of our fathers with such a
stone-"

With a slow prickle of wonder, Damon realized what Dom Esteban was suggesting.

He said, "But-"

"Are you afraid? Do you think you could stand the touch of the Alton Gift?" Dom
Esteban demanded. "If it enabled you to fight your way through the cat-men with
my own skill?"

Damon shut his eyes. He said honestly, "I'd have to think about it. It wouldn't
be easy."

Yet-might it be Callista's one chance?

Dom Esteban was the only living man to cut his way out of a cat-man ambush. He
himself had run like a rabbit from them, leaving his men to die. He had to be
sure about this. He knew it was the kind of decision no one else could make for
him. For a moment no one else in the room existed but Esteban and himself.

He stepped close to the bed and looked down at the prostrate man. "If I refuse,
kinsman, it is not because I am afraid, but because I doubt your power to do
this, sick and wounded as you are. I knew not that you had the Alton Gift, bred
true."

"Oh, yes, I have it," said Esteban, staring up with a fearful intensity, "but in
such days as I am living in, I always believed, I needed no gift other than my
own strength and skill with weapons. Where do you suppose Callista got it in
such measure that she was chosen from all the girls of the Domains to be Keeper?

The Alton Gift is the ability to force rapport, and I had some training in my
own youth. Try me, if you will."

Ellemir came and slid her hand into Damon's. She said, "Father, you can't do
this dreadful thing."

"Dreadful? Why, my girl?"

"It's against the strongest law of the Comyn: that no man may dominate another's
mind and soul."

"Who said anything about his mind and soul?" asked the old man, his gray bushy
eyebrows crawling up like giant caterpillars to his hairline. "It's his
sword-arm and reflexes I'm interested in dominating, and I can do it. And I'll
do it by his free will and consent, or not at all." He began to reach out,
winced, and lay still between the sandbags. "It's your choice, Damon."

Andrew looked pale and worried; Damon himself felt much the same way, and
Ellemir's hand, tucked in his, was trembling. He said slowly, "If it's
Callista's best chance, I'd agree to more than that. If you are strong enough,
Lord Esteban."

"If my damned useless legs would only move, I've fought with worse wounds than
this," Dom Esteban said, "Take the practice sword. Eduin, you take the other."

Damon slipped on the basketwork headpiece, turned his right side to Eduin. The
Guardsman saluted, standing very casually, legs apart, sword-tip resting on the
ground. Damon felt a sharp spasm of fear.