“Are there no mirrors in your household? Does demon lore speak true thereof?” I strove to rebraid my hair. By touch alone that was an unhandy business.
A laugh behind me, and then, swept over my head and down, held for my convenience, a mirror indeed. But this of shining metal, meant rather to ward battle stroke than to provide an aid for adornment. Wan and strange did my reflection look back at me from that shield surface; still it did guide my hands in the ordering of my hair. My pins were half missing and the final coiling looser than I wished.
“You have taken up rough housing, Gillan—unless you wish to see it as the others do—” There was question in that.
“Matters as they are suit me very well indeed.” I made quick reply. “I have a liking for facing what I must with a clear head. Herrel, what do we have to fear?”
“Most of all discovery.” He had slung sword on a shoulder baldric which was set with the same milky gems as those of his belt buckle. And now he held in his two hands a helm, wrought of silver, or so it looked. For a crest it had no plume such as those worn by the fighting lords of High Hallack, but a small figure, marvellously made, a thing of rare beauty, in the form of a crouching, snarling mountain cat, preparing to launch in attack-spring.
Discovery, he said. And the burden of escaping such discovery fell largely on me. Herrel must have read my dawning knowledge in my face for he came to me swiftly.
“I do not think we have aught to fear this day, for the trickery in the night will make them wary. But if you again sense anything strange tell me. There is this,” beneath his helm his eyes had the same cold glitter of the jewels in the eye sockets of the silver cat.”perhaps you have chosen ill after all, Gillan. I can not stand against Halse, or the others in spell weaving. But should I learn which one would attack so, then I may challenge sword battle, and they can not nay-say me. Only, to so speak I must have proof that he who I would meet is indeed guilty. I can lay no wall about you—”
“Perhaps I have another safeguard—I had forgotten it.”
It was so slender a thread, but one about to fall will clutch any rope. I pulled aside the cloak on the bed, the one which had plunged me into this. Under that lay the one thing I had brought out of Norstead for my own, the bag of simples. Why I had clung to it, I could not tell, but now perhaps I could be glad.
Healing salves and balms, most of them. But in the last pocket a small amulet which I had made for an experiment and which I had never shown to Dame Alousan, lest she turn on me for following the country beliefs in a fashion unbefitting one who dwelt in a holy place.
Wild angelica, and the dried flowers of purple mallow, with a pressed ivy leaf or two, and also the berries of rowan, sewn into a tiny packet, with certain runes stitched on it. All lore coming from records, yet never so combined before. There was a cord to it, and I looped that about my throat where it could not be seen under the high collar of the tabard. Dame Alousan herself had admitted that some old lore had a foundation of truth, the which she had proved by her own experiments. But this was from tradition older than her religion and alien to it.
Against my skin it felt warm, almost as if some heat generated within it. I turned to face Herrel. His hand went up as if he could ward me off.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“Herbs, leaves, berries from the field.”
His hands moved in gestures and then he gave a sharp exclamation and the fingers of one went to his lips, his tongue licking as if he would so cool them against some heat.
“ ’Tis a bane, right enough.” He smiled. “And perhaps not a thing they will be expecting. Or, if they find it, they will deem it a safeguard natural. I do not know how that will hold against any determined sorcery. Let us hope it will not be put to any such test.”
Our company rode forth from the hold of the Riders, and this time there were more horses with packs, for there would be no returning. We were bound for the gate of their vanished homeland. Our pace was less demanding on our mounts, but the land through which we travelled repudiated us as it had the day before, inimical to man, and perhaps to the Riders also. Or was that aura some defence they had set against those not of their blood and kin?
The heights on which the hold had been set was only the beginning of land which climbed. It did not snow, but the wind cut coldly. And we were glad when the unmarked trail we followed wound through woods, shelter which kept off the worst of the blasts.
Herrel rode at my left hand, but he spoke little. Now and then he held high his head, his nostrils expanding as if he would scent something in the air which might be the odour of danger. As I looked cautiously about me, I saw that others of his company did likewise, though the girls were still deep in their contented bemusement. Herrel’s crest was that of the mountain cat, but that of the man who rode with Kildas was a bird—an eagle perhaps—its wings outstretched a little as if it were about to launch into the air. And beyond him was one who wore the semblance of a bear, the viciously tempered, red-brown coated dweller in the mountain forests, wily and cunning so that hunters dreaded it almost beyond any other beast.
Bear-helm turned his head, and I recognized him for Halse. Bear, cat, eagle, I strove to identify the others—finding, without making too obviously my eye-search, a boar, tusked and head lowered for the charge—a wolf—Shape changers, sorcerers, were they also beast and bird at will? Or was what I had seen last night merely part of a spell sent to disgust me with Herrel?
I felt no disgust, however fear, a little, as the unknown always awakens first the emotion of fear. How had the Were Riders proved so formidable in war? As men bearing swords and bows, fighting as the men of High Hallack fought, or as beasts with the brains of men, tearing, stalking, leaping as the furred and the feathered? Before the day was out I was to have my answer.
Our ride was not steady, though it was undoubtedly ground covering. We paused in a small clearing to break our fast when a pale sun marked a nooning. And I thought we were swinging farther to the east than our track had been heretofore. Herrel was uneasy, that I noted first. His testing of the wind increased. And I saw that others of the Riders moved restlessly about, their pacing almost being that of animals scenting a danger yet afar.
Those without brides gathered to Hyron by the picket line and three of them rode out. None of the girls appeared to note any of this so was I restrained to be likewise unheeding. But when Herrel brought me a cup of the amber-hued wine, I dared to whisper: “What has gone amiss?”
He did not fence with me. “There is danger—to the east. Men—”
“High Hallack?” But I could not believe they were so honour-broke, for the code binding the High Lords to certain customs was not easily shattered. “We do not know. It may be Alizon—”
“But Alizon is finished on these shores! There are no more—” I could not at once tame my surprise.
“Alizon was broke. But there might be those who fled. Desperate would they be with their ships gone and no path left for their returning home. Such a band under an able leader would try to turn Hallack’s tricks upon her lords and live in the wilderness to raid. They are not soft men, the Hounds, nor ones to throw down sword and call for peace because the tide turns against them.”
“But this far north—”
“One of their long boats could slip along the coast, that would take them away from the ports fallen to their enemies. And they would come north because they know that High Hallack does not patrol in this direction—leaving the waste to us—”
“But surely they also know—”
“That the Riders bide here?” His lips drew back, and for a second did I see a faint shadow form across his face? “Do not misjudge the Hounds, Gillan. Long did the Lords of High Hallack fight them. But all men are not formed the same. Oh, they have two arms, two legs, a head, a body, a heart, a mind—But what lies within to animate all that—that may differ much. There were those of the coast lands, of Dales’ blood, who did lay down sword and accept Alizon’s overyoke years ago. Many were hunted down and put to the sword when we finished off the invaders. Still perhaps not all such turncoats were so finished. And do you not think that there has not been much talk through these years just past the Great Bargain? What better stroke might a band of desperate men deliver than to cut us off now, leaving dead whom they could, perhaps making us believe that Hallack broke faith, so in turn we would return to rend the Dales?”
“You believe this?”
“It is a suggestion we do not throw away without question.”
“But to attack the Riders—” So deeply had I been schooled in the beliefs of the Dales that I had come to accept the common opinion that those I now rode among were invincible, and no man, lest he be bereft of his senses, would go up against them willingly.
“Gillan,” Herrel was smiling a little, “you do us too much honour! Powers we have which those of other races do not use. But we bleed when a sword pierces, we die when it cuts deeply enough. And we are now only as many as you see. Also, we can not detour too far from our chosen trail lest we do not reach the gate we seek in the appointed time, and so must rove on unsatisfied.”
Thus once more was I caught in another race against time. Only I could not credit that the Were Riders were not as all powerful as their reputations made them. Perhaps my face mirrored my doubt for Herrel then fitted another portion of the puzzle into place for me.
“Do you not understand that to maintain an illusion or bind a spell on another’s mind wears upon a man? Twelve in this company ride in spell. More than just the will of he who companies with each holds steady that illusion. You asked me last night—was I as you saw? Yes. I am that, at times—in battle. For our own sakes in fighting we are all shape changers. But to put on one shape or another is an effort of mind and will. These maids from High Hallack see as it is laid upon them to see. Should we be attacked then they would see what you have witnessed. From that true seeing could come an end to all we sought in the Bargain. Speak now the full truth, Gillan—which of those who rode hither with you would accept such a full sight and have it make no difference?”
“I do not know them well, I can not say—”
“But you can venture a guess, and what is that?”
“Very few.” Perhaps I was misspeaking the maids of Hallack, but remembering their murmuring on the ride to the Throat, and the stark fear which some showed then, I did not think I was so far in error.
“So. Thus are we now crippled. And those who might attack us have the courage of men who have been stripped of all—who have nothing left to lose. So would they come into battle with the advantage.”
“What will you do?”
He shrugged. Just such a gesture as I would have expected from Lord Imgry in such a strait. “What do we do? We send out scouts to spy us a trail, we Strive to find a swift passage, we hope that we do not have to fight for it.”
But his hopes were in vain. We struck a fast pace leaving that halting place. Within the hour we split into two parties. Those who were unpaired, save for three of their number, took a branching way yet farther east and rode from us at a gallop. While for the remainder we had a trail straight ahead. One of our three guards, who ranged up and down the line, as I had seen men of the Dales ride herd while moving cattle, was Halse. Each time he swung past it seemed to me that he turned his head, so that the baleful gems in that bear topped helm flickered, the ornament almost appearing a small living creature fully aware of all it saw.
In winter, twilight comes early. Shadows crept across our way which was now clear of forest or many trees, but which wound about to avoid outcrops of snow-crowned rock. Herrel’s mount was dropping behind and I reined back. The last of the party were now out of sight and we were alone.
“What is the matter?”
He shook his head. “I do not know. There is no reason—” He had stopped, now his head went up, his nostrils expanded, as he half turned in the saddle to look back along our trail. His hand moved in an imperative gesture for quiet.
I could hear the clop-clop of hooves ahead, the creak of saddles, growing fainter by the moment. Surely Halse or one of the others would come pounding back to see what delayed us.
Herrel dismounted. He looked up at me, his face a blur not easily read beneath the shadow of his helm.
“Ride!”
He went down on one knee to examine the forefeet of his mount, not looking at the hooves but rather in the longish hair above them. His fingers stilled and his whole body tensed.
“What is it?” I asked for the second time.
But there was no answer—only singing in the air, shrill, ear-piercing in high notes. Herrel’s mount reared, screamed, striking out, and sending the man at its feet rolling.
There was no controlling my mare either. She dashed ahead so wildly that she might have been blind. I fought against her terror with hands on reins and my will—that same will which leapt ever to my defence when there was need. Then, when it seemed she was truly mad, I leaned forward in the saddle, grasping her mane. Against my breast I felt a burning coal, eating into my flesh. The amulet—but why? I dared loose hold with one hand, clutched for that packet. Why I did then what I did I had no knowing, any more than why I had performed many actions these past days.
Jerking the cord until it broke, I pressed the amulet between my palm and the mare’s foam spattered neck. She ceased the terrible neighing which had been bursting from her as a woman might scream; her wild run slackened. My will caught her—we turned back. I was sure that what had moved her and Herrel’s horse had been no freak of nature but a deliberately planned blow.
Almost I feared I could not find my way back. The rocky outcrops all looked the same. But I urged the mare on, my amulet still pressed to her sweating hide. And I could feel the shivering which racked her. Fear was a stench in the air, and mine a part of it.
Behind me the pounding of hooves. Halse drew even, his cloak swept back on his shoulders. I could see sparks of fire...man’s eyes...bear’s eyes. He leaned forward as if to grasp at my rein, bring me to a halt. And I flung out my hand to ward off his. The amulet swung forward on its broken cord, struck across his bare wrist.
“Ahhh—” A cry of pain, as if I had laid a whip there in earnest. He jerked back and his horse reared with a startled neigh. Then I was out of his reach, riding on to where I had seen Herrel roll away from his mount’s striking feet.
His horse stood there, spraddled of leg, muzzle close to the ground. It shivered, plunged once as I moved up, yet did not run. Whilst on a rock ledge of the outcrop crouched that which I had last seen by moonlight on a bed.
“Man—man!” My mind fought fear. But this time my will did not dislodge a phantom. The great cat was silent, it did not even look at me. Those green, glowing eyes were turned elsewhere, down slope, and above its head was a flicker of slender green flame.
“Herrel?” So intent was I on winning man back from cat that I forgot all caution. I slid from the saddle, ran to the rock. As I called the cat’s stare broke, it arose in a great bound to clear the fear stricken horse and reach the ground beyond.
The hair along its spine arose, its ears flattened against the skull, and the long tail quivered at tip. Still it looked back down our trail. Then for the first time it yowled.
Herrel’s horse plunged and screamed. My mare bolted. Now the cat growled, slinking into a crevice between two rocks, belly to the ground. Seeing that hunter’s creep I shrank back against the outcrop, losing touch with the reality of the world I had always known.
I still held the amulet, though I did not remember that until once more in my hand it was burning hot. When I snatched away my fingers I saw, standing out from a crack in the stone, a strange thing. It was perhaps as long as my fore-arm, and it glowed when the amulet approached it. There was such an effluvium of evil exuding from it that before I thought clearly I pulled it free and flung it to the ground, setting my boot heel upon it as I might upon some noxious insect, grinding against the stone until it splintered.
“Harroooo!” Echoed, changed by the rock walls and the wind, but still that was no animal cry. It had come from a human throat, and with it other shouts and a beast’s growling.
By me, with more speed than I could have thought possible for such a clumsy seeming body, raced a bear, on its way down trail. A whistle of wings in the sky and a bird, beyond my reckoning large, followed after. A great grey wolf, another cat—this one with fur spotted black on tawny-red, a second wolf, black—the company of the Riders on their way to battle. But that struggle I did not see. Perhaps that was well, for there came a cry so horrible that my hands went to my ears and I crouched against the outcrop with no courage left, only filled with a desire not to see, hear, or think, of what passed where men met beasts in the twilight.
I found myself then, me, who had never believed in the service of the Abbey, muttering prayers I had heard there years on end, as if those words could build a wall between me and terror unleashed to walk the earth. And I strove to concentrate upon the words and their meanings, using them as a shield.
Hands upon my shoulders—I tried to free myself as if they had been claw-set paws. Still I would not open my eyes. For how could I bear now to look upon a man who was also a beast?
“Gillan!” The grasp which held me tightened. I was shaken to and fro, not in punishing anger as my Lord Imgry had used me, but as one would awaken another caught in a nightmare.
I looked-into green eyes, but they were not set in a beast head. Only, still could I see them so. And above them was that helm on which crouched a cat—a stark reminder. I was too weak to pull away from Herrel’s hold yet my flesh shrank from it.
“She saw us—she knows—” Words from beyond the narrow world which was mine, in which only the twain of us stood.
“She knows more than you think, pack brothers. Look upon what she has in her hand!”
Anger rising about me. Almost I could see that with my eyes as a dull red mist. I stood on a high and open place and they would stone me with rocks of their hate.
“Doubtless sent to lead us into some trap—”
There was an arm about me, holding me close, promising security. Once I thought I could accept that with open eyes. Now there was such a revulsion working in me that I had to force my will to stand fast, lest I run screaming into the wilderness. And the anger continued to thrust spears of rage at me.
“Cease! Look you well, this is what she holds within her hands. Take it—you, Harl, Hisin, Hulor—Magic, yes, but where is there any evil in it, unless evil was intended in return? Harl, say the Seven words while it rests in your fingers.”
Words—or sounds—so sharp they hurt ears, rang into one’s skull—words of alien power.
“Well?”
“It is a charm, but only against the powers of darkness.”
“Now—look yonder!”
The red wall of anger was gone. I saw again with my eyes and not my emotions. From where I had trampled and broken that shaft I had found in the rock arose a line of oily black smoke, as if from a fire feeding on rottenness. And there was a sickly smell from it. The smoke swirled, formed into a rod which had the likeness of the unbroken shaft.
“A screamer, and one under a dark power!”
Again they spoke words, this time several voices together. The rod swayed back and forth, was gone in a puff.
“You have seen,” Herrel said, “you know what kind of a spell that bore. One who wears such an amulet as Gillan can not dabble in dark learning. And there was another charm here also. Harl, I ask of you, look to the fetlock of Roshan’s left forefoot.”
I saw him who wore the eagle go to Herrel’s mount, kneel to feel about the hoof. Then he arose with a thread between his fingers.
“A hinder-cord!”
“Just so. And this also do you say is of the enemy, or of my lady’s doing? Perhaps,” Herrel looked at each of them for a long instant, “it was a trick for amusement. But almost it worked to my bane, and likewise to those of you who came hither. Or was it more than a trick, a hope that I fall behind to some undoing by fate or enemy?”
“You have the right to ask sword-battle then!” flashed Halse.
“So I do, as I shall call upon you all to witness—when I find the one who tried to serve me so.”
“This is one thing,” boar-crest broke in, “but she—” he pointed to me, “is yet another. She who deals in out-land charms, who and what is she?”
“All peoples have their wise women and healers. We know well the skill of those of High Hallack. Gillan had for mistress one who was well learned in such arts. To each race its own powers—”
“But such a one has no place in our company!”
“Do you speak for all the pack, Hulor? Gillan,” Herrel spoke to me, far more softly, as one who would win words from a sorely frightened child, “what know you of this other thing—this shaft?”
And as simply as a child I made answer. “The Amulet burned my hand when I rested it on the rock. There was a break in the stone and that stood within it. I—I pulled it loose and broke it with my foot.”
“Thus,” he swung back to the others, “it would seem, pack brothers, that we owe herewise a debt. With that still potent what might have happened had we gone into battle shape changed and then returned, unable to be men, to face so these we would shield from the truth?”
I heard murmurs among them.
“Upon this matter the whole company must have their say.” Halse spoke first.
“So be it—with you witnessing as to what happened here.” Herrel replied evenly. His arm tightened around me, I fought against the shudders with which my body would have resisted that hold. “Now, we have no threat left behind, but that does not mean it has vanished from the land. Only, hold in mind, pack brothers, that you return now to those whom you cherish as men this night because of the courage and wit of this my lady.”
If he expected any outward assent from the others he did not get it. They drew away. Herrel lifted me into the saddle and climbed up behind, the circle of his arms holding me. Yet I was alone, alone in a company who had let me feel the fire and storm of their hate, and in arms which now I thought of as wholly alien.