Iduna

Chapter Seven

There was a moment of utter confusion, a sense of falling into an infinite darkness, then Dumarest turned, his boots hitting dirt, to see the sward had vanished to be replaced by the familiar black, volcanic sand. Grit which could hide lurking dangers and it changed as he looked at it into a field of solid ice.

"A good move," said Virdius. "You play well. I can tell that."

"By my first move?"

"Your second. First you stopped yourself falling then you changed the field into ice."

And Iduna turned it into water.

Dumarest sank, feeling the warm wetness lave his face, striking out to float as he considered the situation. A game of unknown rules yet he was getting the drift. A point he had to reach and one she would prevent him from making. Difficulties compounded and, if he should be unable to meet each new challenge with a defense, then she would have won. But what now? A boat to rescue him from drowning? A raft to lift him from the waves? To turn the sea into soil? A choice of almost infinite possibilities but once taken it would be her turn to move again and, if he was to play the game, she must be allowed to have it. But he must leave the sea. Like the sand it could hold too many dangers. But a raft could be grounded and a boat could be made to founder.

The log was safer.

It rested beneath his hands, rough, yet the bark not too rough to hold small but vicious insects, slimed but not slimed enough to make footing impossible. To Virdius he said, "In which direction lies the castle?"

"It rests in the place it occupies."

"Obviously. Where is that?"

"At the point where it is."

Riddles, yet the man was supposed to be his guide. Or maybe not. What had he said? "I am to guide you." Guide how? To what? Iduna, it seemed, had a peculiar sense of humor.

And it was her move.

The log rolled a little, began to pitch as a screaming wind suddenly lashed the water to foam. Lightning danced and sent clouds of vapor exploding from where it struck, the roar of thunder, the pounding impact of ceaseless explosions.

A storm which died as abruptly as it had started, to leave calm water and a shore edged with shining-leaved trees.

Trees which sprouted tendrils as Dumarest neared them, weaving coils of menace which changed into drooping fronds masking a rising landscape which turned into a crevassed slope emitting noxious fumes.

Which winds blew away.

Which gave birth to dragons.

Which vanished beneath a pall of snow.

Beyond the crest of the summit ran smooth ground dotted with copses and graced with the silvery thread of a river. A thread which carried the eye up and onward to the loom of somber mountains backing something which flashed like a tumbled handful of sparkling gems.

"The castle," said Virdius. "I said I would guide you."

To the final stages of the game. But the castle was far and it was the girl's move. Dumarest waited for it, confident he could take what she offered and counter it as he had done before. Playing a game no different in basic detail from that played by children everywhere with their verbalized use of objects-rock, paper, shears-each having power over another, each nullified by the correct pairing. A game she must have played often in the past.

When would she make her move?

Virdius said, "There is no obligation on her to make it. And if you move out of turn then you will have cheated and lost the game and must pay the forfeit."

A child?

Dumarest looked at the terrain, noting the greenness of the vegetation, guessing at the swampy nature of the ground it covered. To cover it would take time and effort and always would be the possibility of danger only avoided by his making a "move." And, if he did so, then he would have lost the game.

And?

The girl, sulking, would break all contact and, even if powerless to harm him, would remain beyond his reach. He could stay but to what end? And how long could he hope to survive? He remembered Muhi and how the man had looked while shambling around the compound. Of the others who had turned into distorted masses of wild tissue. Iduna was an exception-could he rely on being another? She had been a young child, her body still growing, able to adapt over the years. A girl, tended and cherished with loving care and given the best regardless of expense. He wasn't in the same category. Even now the Matriarch could be getting impatient and urging the technicians to experiment. How long had he been in the Tau?

He had no choice but to play the game as the girl dictated.

The ground was soft underfoot as he ran down the slope after memorizing the terrain. The softness, if he had judged correctly, would firm into a ridge of higher ground topped with vegetation less lush than the rest. It would take him to a clump of trees and then he had to take his chances to the river. Once he reached the water he would have gained a choice-to swim or walk. A choice he would make when he had to.

Water squelched beneath his boots and mud dragged at his ankles as Dumarest moved toward the higher ground. He was panting when he reached it and paused to rest, scraping rich black mud from his boots with quick movements of his knife. Virdius, unsullied, watched from one side.

As Dumarest sheathed his knife he said, "Are you staying with me all the way?"

"My duty is to guide you."

"And help?"

"To guide."

And perhaps more should Iduna so decide. Dumarest set off along the ridge slowing as he approached the clump of trees. Things could be lurking in the high branches and predators be waiting in the gloom of the undergrowth. To his relief there were neither and he studied the ground leading toward the river. It was thick with lush reeds, more soaring high at the edges of the stream. Stepping from the copse he again felt the soft, yielding suck of mud and freed his boot only with difficulty. Had he marched directly toward the river he would be deep in the bog by now and forced to act to save himself.

"If you consider yourself beaten I can accept your defeat," said the guide. "I doubt if the forfeit will be harsh."

"Don't you know? Haven't others had to pay the penalty?"

"Penalty?"

"Forfeit." A child's term for a child's game-but the punishment, even though decided on by a child, could be far from childish. The young were often savage. "What is the usual?"

"There is no strict rule. It depends on the moment. But you must pay it if you lose and you will lose if you cheat."

"I haven't lost yet." Dumarest dived among the trees knife lifted from his boot. "And I don't intend to lose."

A spur to make the girl use her move-once she did he would give her no chance to make another, but she didn't fall into the trap and Dumarest set to work on the trees. With the blade he cut large sections of bark, some slender poles, thicker branches together with a mass of thinly cut bark which he wove into crude ropes. With them he lashed short lengths of the thicker branches together, forming two frames which he covered with sheets of bark. The rough constructions lashed to his feet, he waddled toward the mud using the poles to maintain his balance. Crude snowshoes which would serve as well on soft ground, the extensions distributing his weight over a larger area.

He was almost at the river when the creature struck.

It was long and low and with jaws parted to show the gleam of serried teeth. A creature with clawed feet and a weighted tail which ripped at the reeds as if it were a scythe. Precariously balanced on the enlarged platforms Dumarest caught the stir of reeds as the thing darted toward him, lifting a pole to stab with it at the sloping head and eyes, to send the tip into the mouth where it tore at the lolling tongue.

To go sprawling in the mud as the beast, snarling with pain and anger, dashed against his leg.

The tail cut the air, jarring against his uplifted forearm, ripping plastic and bruising the flesh beneath the protective mesh. A blow which numbed and could have broken the limb had not Dumarest yielded to it, using his arm as a shield to deflect the blow and send the tail whipping over his head. As the creature raced past he snatched at his knife, feeling the suck of mud as he moved, one hand trapped beneath him, the shoes on his feet hampering his legs. Bark and wood shattered as he drove one against the other, kicking to free his boots, slamming them wide against the soft and spongie ground as the weight of his body drove the mud higher around him.

Moments of furious activity as the beast slid to a halt, to turn on splayed paws, to lunge with jaws gaping wide to close on face and throat. Jaws which closed on the knife which Dumarest thrust into the open mouth, point upward to transfix the palate as the hilt hit the loser jaw, saliva warm and sticky on the hand he kept clamped around the hilt.

Blood sprayed his face as the creature snarled in pain and rage, muscles jerking in his arm as it tore at the blade, the stench of its breath vile in his nostrils. For a moment the mud resisted the strength of the beast and Dumarest gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold on, to use the beast which had tried to make him its prey. Pain made the animal back, legs stiffening, paws sinking as it struggled to rid itself of the torment in its mouth. Then it heaved, dragging Dumarest clear of the mud as it retreated toward the river, jerking itself free with torn jaws as he rolled over the edge to fall into the water.

To strike out and wash away the mud and blood and stench. To rest a while before following the thread of water toward the mountains and the castle.

It was something from a dream. A living jewel which flung a triple arch against the sky and graced with fluted towers and spires, turrets and cupolas set with drifting pennants and forked banners bearing bright devices. Light winked from crenellations; the gleam of armed and armored men watching from the battlements topping the high, gleaming walls. A moat held sportive fish which added brightness with their rainbow-leapings. A door shone with an inner effulgence and the drawbridge, lowered, shone like polished glass.

Light and brightness and all the colors from a children's story book. A building which followed no architectural discipline and would have been a hazard on any ordinary world.

The imagination of a child constructed in crystal and given solidity-the triple arch left no doubt as to whom that child must be. It would have been natural for Iduna to have copied the outstanding feature of her mother's palace.

"The castle," said Virdius. "The residence of Her Majesty. You have done well."

"More than well-I've won."

"Not as yet," corrected the guide. "You have yet to reach the castle. Beside the door, you see? A gong which must be struck by your hand. Only when you have done that will victory be granted."

He stood on the bank of the river, neat in his armor, his darkly handsome face impassive beneath the curved and pointed helmet. Standing in the water, Dumarest looked at him then at the castle. He was too low to see clearly but remembered the surround was of emerald sward which sloped from the bank to the moat. A surge and he was on land, dripping, little puddles collecting at his feet as he examined the approaches. Stepping forward he saw no advertised dangers.

Was winning to be so easy?

Halfway to the gong he heard the flap of wings and ducked as a bird, diving from a turret, suddenly darted at his eyes. A big, wide-winged creature which cawed and circled and came in again to attack his face. Again Dumarest ducked, rising with naked steel in his right hand, an edge which slashed to leave the bird flapping without a head, blood staining the grass.

"My move now, I think?"

"No, the bird is a natural part of the castle. The attack was not a calculated part of the game."

And how many more "natural" hazards would there be?

Dumarest stepped warily, watching for traps set in the grass; wires or snares triggered by the passage of his foot, even camouflaged predators trained to stay immobile until an intruder was within reach. The guide, he noted, had fallen behind him, his feet making no sound as they trod the sward.

Too easy.

It was all too easy!

Dumarest threw himself forward, turning in the air to hit the ground with his shoulders, seeing the splinter-bright flash of steel, the thin, vicious whine as the sword cut the air where he had been standing. A blow aimed to slash his legs and one delivered with enough strength to have cut them from his body. Beneath his helmet Virdius looked as impassive as before.

"You cheated!" Dumarest rolled as the blade tore grass and dirt at his side. "You've taken extra moves!"

"No, this move was incorporated in the first and that was when we met. Now it is being used."

An attack delivered without warning and one which would have crippled him and forced him to move which would have left the move to Iduna-how often had she played this murderous game before?

And how often was the guide permitted to attack?

Again steel whined through the air to touch the heel of his boot as Dumarest anticipated its fall, to roll and rise and parry the next swing, the thin, clear note of tempered metal rising as his knife met the longer sword. Longer and so more awkward to manipulate and a hindrance once an opponent was within the range of the point. Before the guide could shorten his blade Dumarest was on him, knife slamming up and into the face, the point shearing up a nostril, to smash through the sinus and into the brain. A blow aimed to kill.

One which would have killed an ordinary man but Virdius was far from that.

Backing he tore himself free of the blade and stood, his ruined face expressionless as again he lifted his sword, feet shifting to accommodate a lunge. Dumarest swayed as it came, felt the touch against his side and clamped his left arm down hard against the weapon, trapping it against his side. A step and his right hand darted forward with two rapid motions and this time Iduna had no choice. Either she moved or yielded her piece-a blinded man makes a poor warrior.

Then, as Dumarest watched, Virdius vanished.

He did it slowly, a fragment at a time, the face melting as if made of wax to shrink in a stream of sparkling vapor which wreathed about the helmet and left it empty. Then the armor itself, metal thinning to become gossamer and then to disappear to leave the remainder standing like a grotesque parody of what had been. Then, last of all, the sword joined the rest.

And from the door of the castle, came terror.

It filled the arched opening and swept over the drawbridge in the shape of a glittering cloud of singing mist which spun and weaved and held faces which grimaced and held the attention while from it radiated a cold, merciless aura which chilled the blood and prickled the skin and filled the mind with all the horrors ever heard of ghosts and goblins and things which haunted the dark and swept down to eat the unwary and leave them mewing and unwanted in dismal places.

Iduna's move.

Her last.

The shimmering, singing mist condensed, lifted in a plume of vapor which poured into a bottle of purple glass which Dumarest corked and, holding it high, took one step and threw it hard against the gong.

As the brazen note died he passed into the castle in search of the girl.

She waited in a hall rich with tapestries, gemmed ornaments, tables loaded with succulent dainties, an army of dolls. Lights dazzled so that for a moment Dumarest could see nothing but reflected brilliance, then he caught the watchful presence of guards, of attendants, of an animal which rose bristling, of the woman who calmed it with a hand.

Shamarre who looked older and uglier than he remembered and who glared at him from her station at the foot of the throne.

On it sat a girl.

Dumarest studied her as he walked toward the dais narrowing his eyes against the brilliance of the jewels which adorned her, the glitter of the ornate crown. It rested on a mane of hair which seemed like liquid jet, each strand a filament of bright and shining loveliness. The face was a pale oval, the lips full and pouting, the eyes wide and graced by arched brows. The chin lacked strength as the body lacked maturity and the mouth resolution. As he watched she lifted a thumb and placed it within her mouth to suck as she watched his approach.

"That is close enough!" Shamarre was curt. "Halt and make obeisance to Her Majesty."

Without looking at her Dumarest snapped, "The Lord of Earth does not take orders from underlings." Then, to the figure on the throne added harshly, "My lady-you cheated!"

The thumb lowered from the mouth.

"I did not!"

"The beast which attacked me close to the river-"

"Was a natural hazard. It was fair according to the rules. I did not cheat-so there!"

"A natural hazard," said Dumarest dryly. "As was the bird and the guide you sent me. A clever trick, my lady. I must congratulate you."

"I like to win," she said and giggled. "You looked so funny wearing those shoes and so startled when Virdius attacked. But you played well. Much better than the others. They didn't seem to know how to play at all. I'm glad you came here to join me. Would you like some tea and a cake?"

The cake was spiced and sweet and covered in thick, rich cream and he ate it in a small room seated at a table bright with the glitter of cups and plates and pots of solid gold. Others were at the table with himself and Iduna; a bear which stared with solemn, rounded eyes as it ate with delicate movements of a paw, a doll with a painted face which squeaked and scolded as it sipped, a dog with drooping ears which sat and watched and snapped thrown fragments from the air.

Iduna acted as the hostess.

"This tea is a special blend from Katanga," she said with adult pride. "I have galleys carrying it for me through the perils of the Juntinian Sea. And these cakes I baked myself using ingredients gathered from a dozen worlds. Teddy! Don't you be so greedy! Snap-here!" She smiled as the dog caught and swallowed a portion of cake. "When you've finished, Earl, shall we play another game?"

"Which?"

"Hide and seek?" She frowned. "No, not that one, not yet. How about armies? You take one side and I'll take the other and we have a war and the winner gets the other to pay a forfeit. Would you like to play that?"

"Later, perhaps."

"How much later?" She pouted her displeasure. "How long must I wait? We could play schools. I'll be the teacher and ask you questions and if you don't give me the correct answers I'll punish you." Then, as he made no comment, she added crossly, "Well, you think of a game."

"Questions," he said.

"What?"

"I ask you a question and you ask me one and we keep on until one of us can't or won't answer."

"And the loser pays a forfeit?"

"Yes." Then, as she frowned, he said, "Of course we could just talk. How long have you been queen?"

"A long time. I've always been the queen."

"Since you were a very small girl?"

"No-but since I came here. Are you really the Lord of Earth?"

"Why do you doubt it?"

"Earth. It's a funny name. Is there such a place? I mean really? Or is it something you just made up? I make up things all the time. Would you like some more cake?"

He took another piece and ate and watched the young yet oddly mature face of the girl he had come to find.

Girl?

At eleven many were women, ready and able to bear children, immature only in their minds. And Iduna had lived in the Tau for years. But she was the product of a rigid culture which set times and limits on those living within it. In such a society a child could remain that until puberty, then to become an infant, an adolescent and, only finally and usually after tests and rites, to be accepted as an adult.

He had known such worlds where men of thirty were still regarded as boys denied marriage and the chance of fatherhood. Others where girls were kept in seclusion until equally old then to lose their virgin status in an erotic ceremony. And yet others where boys became men as soon as they had killed and womanhood was determined by the swelling of a belly.

"Earl?"

"I was thinking." He smiled and took another bite of cake and felt the sickly sweetness fill his mouth. "Have you explored? Tried to find other lands?"

"What's the point?" She busied herself pouring tea. "Everywhere is the same. I took a raft once and went on and on and on and ended nowhere."

And had gone nowhere but he didn't mention that. She, as the oldest resident of the Tau, could teach him what he needed to know.

"Did you ever try to go back? To the palace, I mean. To your mother."

"No!"

"Your father, then?" The denial had been too sharp, too savage. A hate relationship? Such things were common between a neglected daughter and an ambitious mother. "You liked your father, didn't you? He played with you and showed you his things. Tell me some of the games you played. Did you ever hide in his study and spring out at him when he didn't expect it? Did he have friends call and talk and did you sit and listen?" He handed her the plate of cakes. "These are good."

"I know. I made them."

"You must teach me."

"Why? Don't you know how to cook? That's silly. All men can cook." Her disgust was genuine. "How are you ever going to hold a wife unless you can prepare her meals?"

"On Earth women do the cooking."

"Then Earth must be a funny place." She made no attempt to hide her lack of interest. "Can't you think of a new game we could play? Perhaps-" Her eyes veiled, became secretive. "Are you married?"

"No."

"Do you have a woman? I know many men have women they aren't married to. I've heard the servants talking. Are you a woman's lover?"

"No."

"Then are you one of-" Again she broke off, frowning before continuing, "You'd rather be with a man?"

"No. It's just that I'm here and you are the only female around and we aren't married and we certainly aren't lovers so how could I have either?"

"But there are other women here, Earl. You've seen some of them. Shamarre, Lydia, Wendy-lots of women. They come when you want them." Then, with a giggle, she added, "Men too. All kinds of men."

Toys for an erotic eleven-year-old child-but Iduna was no longer that age. Dumarest remembered the body he had seen. One belonging to a nubile young woman and she had spent years in the Tau where time need not match the pace of that outside. A day here could be an hour on Esslin. Time for imagination to develop and ancient needs to make themselves known. Time and the power to experiment free of the hampering restrictions of watching adults.

The face he saw now no longer belonged to a child.

"Men," she said again. "Such funny creatures, Earl. They come and they play as you want them to and then they go away. But you, you're different. You're not going away, are you? You're going to stay and play with me."

"I'll keep you company."

"Company? Is that the way you say it? Is that what you do when you play games?"

"There are other things than games."

"Such as?"

"We can talk and walk and examine things together. We can plan and discuss and find out about each other. We can explore. Did you and your father ever go exploring together?"

"Yes, sometimes when he could get away. We'd take a raft and go into the mountains and we'd find flowers and he'd tell me about them. And about other worlds too and the ways the people lived on them. At times he would hold me and that was good because he was so gentle and strong and I felt so safe. And he used to give me things. Tamiras said he spoiled me but I don't think I was spoiled."

"Tamiras?"

"A friend." She dismissed the subject. "What can we do together, Earl?"

"Explore. You mentioned Katanga and the Juntinian Sea. Where do they lie?"

"To the south. I made it that way. And the Burning Mountains lie to the north and the Eldrach Jungles to the west."

"And the east? What lies to the east?"

"Deserts," she said. "And the Place."

"The Place?" He frowned. "Just that? The Place?"

"Yes. I-yes, Earl. But that doesn't matter now. We can forget all about that. And forget the glaciers and the pits and the things I saw when… when…"

"When you first came here?"

"Earl, it was horrible! I don't want to talk about it. I don't even want to think about it and you mustn't make me. Hold me, Earl. Hold me!"

And she was in his arms, clutching him tight as she buried her face against his chest, her shoulders quivering with remembered fears as she clung to the one real thing in her universe.