Year of the Unicorn (27 page)

Even as he spoke I felt that draining weakness. Shadow, yes, my hand had a shadow look-

No! They were tricking me, drawing my attention away from the fighters! Herrel was being driven back, he was close, too close, to the cloak rope. If Halse could not wound him, perhaps he wished to give his enemy the greater shame of breaking the square. Herrel's face was set, he was a man still fighting dogged against some inevitable defeat.

-No!-I tried to reach him, build up the wall of strength and confidence. And now there gnawed at me the belief that Hyron had spoken the truth, that my very efforts to support Herrel were death to me. I was trembling; the ground reeled under me. I must let go-keep what I had left.

My hands-they were thinner, whiter. Do not look upon my hands! Watch Herrel, fight the dog of defeat the Pack had raised. Herrel-shadow hands-Herrel-

Herrel!

It cost so much to break their united desire-and I was no longer sure I could.

-Fool, you fade-

-Herrel, you can-you can defeat the bear! Herrel!

There was a mist between me and the men, or did cat and bear still circle on the cloak? I stood, blind, holding to what small strength I still had.

There came a shout-cries-or were those animal growls, screams of bird, neighing of a horse?

I rubbed my hands across my eyes, strove to see-A cat crouched with switching tail, fangs bared. Facing it still a bear, but one of the clawed hind paws was beyond the roping-Halse must be counted fled!

They were men again, all of them, drawing together, ranged against Herrel still. But that wave of defeat they had woven was gone as if torn away by a rising wind. Herrel raised his sword-pointed the tip to Halse.

"He is fled!" His voice rang loudly, a sharp demand in it.

"He is fled." Hyron returned sombrely.

"A bargain is a bargain, we claim all-"

When Hyron did not reply, Herrel strode forward a step or two.

"We claim all!" he repeated. "Does Pack law no longer hold? I do not believe you will nay-say our right."

Still the Captain made no answer. Nor did the others. Herrel went the closer. His eyes were green fire in his face, but he was all man, not cat.

"Why do you not keep your bargain, Hyron? We spoke for all, you promised it on our winning-"

"I can not give it to you."

Herrel was silent for a long moment, as if he could not believe he had heard aright.

"Dare you name yourself honour-broke then, Captain of Riders?" His voice was softer, but in it an ice of deadly anger, the more perilous because of the control he held Over it.

"I can not render unto you what I do not have."

"You do not have? What has become then of the Gillan you wrought through your powers?"

"Look," Hyron inclined his head in my direction. Herrel turned his flaming eyes upon me. "The tie is broke; that which we summoned is gone."

Tie is broke-I swayed. Where was it, that cold which had led me out of the wilderness into this land? It was gone, I felt it no more-I was adrift. Then I heard laughter, low, evil, gloating-

"She has only herself to blame." Halse said. "She would use her power. Now it has destroyed her. Nourish your bride while you yet can, Herrel. She is a shadow bride, soon to be not even shadow!"

"What have you done?" Herrel sprang then past Hyron to seize upon Halse. His hands closed about the other's throat, he bore him back to the ground. While I watched as one in a dream, far less real a dream than those they had pushed me into, the men struggled.

They dragged Herrel from his enemy, and held him in spite of his efforts to come at Halse, who lay gasping on the ground. Then Hyron spoke:

"We have played as true as we can. But the tie is broke, that other one is gone-"

"Where?"

"Where we can not follow. She was wrought in another world, she returned there when the tie holding her here was broke."

"You brought her to life. Upon you lies the burden of returning her-or go honour-broke." Herrel shook off their hold. He spoke to Hyron but he came to me. "I asked all, Gillan asked all and you gave oath on that. Now, redeem your oath! Gillan!" He reached me, his arms were about me but I could not feel his touch. I strove to raise my hands-they were thin, transparent. No tie-I was tired, so tired, and empty-never to be filled now-never-

The Ashen World

"ANOTHER WORLD-" Herrel repeated. "So be it! You have the key to its gate, Hyron. Turn it now or take the name of oath-breaker on you. " He swung around, giving eye to all of them. "Oath-breakers-all of you!"

"You do not know what for you ask." the Pack Captain said.

"I know very well what I ask-that you make good the bargain. You send us-"

"Us?" repeated Hyron. "She perhaps," he nodded to me, "since she has been there before, has survived what lies there. But for you-you have not the power-"

As a cat might stalk, Herrel moved upon his leader. I could not see his face, but his whole body displayed his determination of purpose.

"I am beginning to know that I am more than you allowed me to be, Hyron. And the need is now more than life. You shall send us both and-No, I will not ask you for myself. That I have never done. But this I demand for Gillan: you shall sustain her to the limit of that much vaunted power of yours. Since yours was this ill-doing, so must you aid in the undoing."

Hyron stared back at him, almost as if he could not believe he had heard aright. There was a stir and murmur among the other Riders, but Herrel spared them no glance. His attention was only for their leader.

"We can not do it here and now." Hyron answered.

"Then where and when?" Herrel demanded.

"At the Towers-"

"The Towers!" Herrel was plainly unbelieving. "You wrought this deed in a wilderness which was far from the Towers, why now must you have them about you to undo it-at least to open the other world to the twain of us?"

"You have asked for our full aid for her after she passes through-I am not even sure we can give that. But we must have our own anchorage-or mayhap we be all swallowed up and lost."

"It is a long ride yet to the Towers. Look upon her. Do you think that time is any friend to her? It is rather her enemy."

To me that argument was a dim, far-off thing which had no meaning save words poured into my ears. I was so tired. Why would they not ride away, leave me to sleep? Yes-how good was sleep-to melt into the dark and know nothing-

"Gillan!" I must have gone a little way into that dark, for Herrel was again holding me, and somehow the force of his arms about me was a barrier against my drifting into the waiting dark. Also warning stirred in me.

"Herrel?"

"Gillan, look-think-We must ride, and you must hold to life-this life-hold!"

Hold? To life? A cord-but the cord had snapped, was gone from me. To rest...let me rest...I was so tired, so very tired.

"Gillan! See-look about you!"

Sunlight? But it had been night and there lay a cloak where two men-or beasts-had fought. A vial was pressed against my lips, a voice urged me to swallow. Feebly I obeyed and then for a short time the mists were gone. We were riding, I held in Herrel's arms, at a pace which was close to a full gallop. Cloaks streamed out from the shoulders of those about us. And it was day.

"Hold-" Herrel gazed on me as if by his eyes, the mind behind them, he could bring me under obedience to that order, "Hold!"

And that will of his, coupled with the cordial he had made me drink, did keep me awake. But I saw all about me as if I passed through a dream which concerned me not. Herrel talked, as if by his voice he could hold me. I heard his words but they made no pictures in my mind.

"-Towers and then they shall send us forth and we shall quest for that other. In that world where she was made, perhaps you shall find her soon and your uniting will be the easier-"

Other? What other? But questions only confused one, better not to think of them. I lay passive, watching rising hills about us, green-gold-green. There was a melting, every changing aspect to this land which I dimly remembered-or its like-Once there had green walls or broken walls which had flowed, trembled, formed and reformed in a like manner. Nothing was stable, though I could feel those arms, steady as mountain rooted stone about me. The sunlight was gone-grey-all the world was now grey. And that flowing of landscape was performed by shadows melting one into another. Once I thought I heard shouting, and those who rode about us were gone for a space, though Herrel's horse never faltered in that ground-eating stride. "Gillan!"

It was all a dream-a soft dream.

I was no longer on horseback, I lay on a bed or couch. No, I stood apart and looked down upon one who lay upon a couch, one who was very pale and thin and wasted seeming. And beside her lay another, straight and lithe, well muscled, for his mail and leather had been taken from him. But he was not wasted, nor did he sleep, and the words he spoke reached me as the thin whispers of wind teased leaves. "Do as you will for our swift passing." Smoke arose about that bed place, whirling, whirling, whirling, billowing out and the smoke touched me, wreathed about me, caught me into it so I, too, whirled, drifted, and was a part of it.

A wind within the smoke, impelling me ahead of it as if I had no more weight or substance than a leaf or petal-driving me onward through this unseeingness-this place of spectres-

Spectres? My mind, if I still possessed a mind, clung to that word-spectre.

Shadows in the smoke, things which were rooted, for I passed them, they did not float with me. And they became darker, more real-a gnarled trunk, crooked branches up flung against a hidden sky. Uneasiness grew-sometime-sometime, long ago-I had seen their like and they carried a threat of danger-evil. What danger? What evil? I willed, I reached, I caught at one of those branches, and so stayed my flight within the smoke-mist. Under my fingers that wood, if wood it could be, had a dry, dusty feel, as if dead and falling into rot.

Still the smoke drifted by and I could see only what I held to. There was no sound at all. For a space I held to my anchorage. Then I loosed my grip, was once more pulled forward in the mist, passing other branches, other trees, seeing no purpose in lingering by them.

There was-there was something I must find. It was not a tree, nor anchorage. But I must find it-yes, yes, I must find it! A raging need for that filled me, as if I had drunk it out of a cup-was a fever in me.

What did I seek, and where? Please, I must know-I must find out!

I-I must find Gillan. And who was Gillan? Witch, a whisper in the fog? Maid-bride-Gillan-I tried to open my lips and call that name, but no voice was granted me. Suddenly the fog about me thinned, the charred dead trees stood out of it, to ring me in a forest glade.

Gillan-

There was a grey-white ash on the ground and it was trackless. There were no guides to turn me this way or that. Where did one seek Gillan in this alien world?

White-grey skeleton leaves upon the trees, and silence-a brooding silence. Yet still I listened, eagerly-or fearfully-I was not certain which.

-Gillan-My will sent that call questing out, though my lips did not shape the name.-Gillan, where?-

No answer, but I began to walk forward, down that aisle of trees, always the same.

-Gillan!-

On and on. To this always-the-same forest there was no end. On and on and on-no end-no answer. Nor was there any change in the wan light, no rising nor setting sun, or moon, no darkening, no lighting-always the same. So I might not have walked forward but stood in the same place. Still move I did, through those endless rows of trees.

-Gillan?-

Now that hunger which drove me was fed by uneasiness. What lay behind? I turned now and again to look back. All I saw was the silent forest, no movement. But-no longer was I alone among those trees-something had been attracted by the mere stir of my passing, was awake, padding to see what disturbed its world. And with it came fear.

I wanted to run, but I knew that running would bring it the quicker on my trail. So I must walk as always, hunting that to which there was no clue, while behind came something hunting-ME!

-Gillan?-

I had grown so used to the unanswering silence that I was startled when this time there came an answer-or was it but a troubling of the atmosphere, a stirring? But to me it was an answer-and it lay to my right, so I turned aside from the way I had been going. But as I hurried, I knew that same troubling had alerted that which followed me. Now it was more than curious. It was aroused to a hunter's hunger and cunning.