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veils. She came so near that she could have reached out her hand and
touched him, and still he did not notice her, as if his spirit were out
beyond the stars, grappling the blackness there.
Then a twig snapped under her foot and Mouse sprang up with
terrifying swiftness, the energy of every taut muscle released. He
snatched up his sword and lunged at the intruder. But when the green
blade was within a hand's breadth of Ivrian's throat, he checked it with
an effort. He glared, lips drawn back from his teeth. Although he had
checked his sword, he seemed only half to recognize her.
At that instant Ivrian was buffeted by a mighty gust of wind, which
came from the mouth of the cavern, a strange wind, carrying shadows.
The green fire burned low, running rapidly along the sticks that were its
fuel, and almost snuffing out.
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r r
Then the wind ceased and the thick darkness lifted, to be replaced
by a wan gray light heralding the dawn. The fire turned from green to
yellow. The wizard's apprentice staggered, and the sword dropped
from his fingers.
"Why did you come here?" he questioned thickly.
She saw how his face was wasted with hunger and hate, how his
clothing bore the signs of many nights spent in the forest like an
animal, under no roof. Then suddenly she realized that she knew the
answer to his question.
"Oh, Mouse," she whispered, "let us go away from this place. Here
is only horror." He swayed, and she caught hold of him. "Take me with
you, Mouse," she said.
He stared frowningly into her eyes. "You do not hate me then, for
what I have done to your father? Or what I have done to the teachings
of Glavas Rho?" he questioned puzzledly. "You are not afraid of me?"
"I am afraid of everything," she whispered, clinging to him. "I am
afraid of you, yes, a great deal afraid. But that fear can be unlearned.
Oh, Mouse, will you take me away? -- to Lankhmar or to Earth's End?"
He took her by the shoulders. "I have dreamed of that," he said
slowly. "But you..."
"Apprentice of Glavas Rho!" thundered a stern, triumphant voice. "I
apprehend you in the name of Duke Janarrl for sorceries practiced on
the Duke's body!"
Four huntsmen were springing forward from the undergrowth with
swords drawn and Giscorl three paces behind them. Mouse met them
halfway. They soon found that this time they were not dealing with a
youth blinded by anger, but with a cold and cunning swordsman. There
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r r
was a kind of magic in his primitive blade. He ripped up the arm of his
first assailant with a well-judged thrust, disarmed the second with an
unexpected twist, then coolly warded off the blows of the other two,
retreating slowly. But other huntsmen followed the first four and circled
around. Still fighting with terrible intensity and giving blow for blow,
Mouse went down under the sheer weight of their attack. They
pinioned his arms and dragged him to his feet. He was bleeding from a
cut in the cheek, but he carried his head high, though it was beast-
shaggy. His bloodshot eyes sought out Ivrian.
"I should have known," he said evenly, "that having betrayed
Glavas Rho you would not rest until you had betrayed me. You did
your work well, girl. I trust you take much pleasure in my death."
Giscorl laughed. Like a whip, the words of Mouse stung Ivrian. She
could not meet his eyes. Then she became aware that there was a
man on horseback behind Giscorl and, looking up, she saw that it was
her father. His wide body was bent by pain. His face was a death's
mask. It seemed a miracle that he managed to cling to the saddle.
"Quick, Giscorl!" he hissed.
But the thin-faced henchman was already sniffing around in the
cavern's mouth like a well-trained ferret. He gave a cry of satisfaction
and lifted down a little figure from a ledge above the fire, which he next
stamped out. He carried the figure as gingerly as if it were made of
cobweb. As he passed by her, Ivrian saw that it was a clay doll wide as
it was tall and dressed in brown and yellow leaves, and that its features
were a grotesque copy of her father's. It was pierced in several places
by long bone needles.
"This is the thing, oh Master," said Giscorl, holding it up, but the
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r r
Duke only repeated, "Quick, Giscorl!" The henchman started to
withdraw the largest needle which pierced the doll's middle, but the
Duke gasped in agony and cried, "Forget not the balm!" Whereupon
Giscorl uncorked with his teeth and poured a large vial of sirupy liquid
over the doll's body and the Duke sighed a little with relief. Then
Giscorl very carefully withdrew the needles, one by one, and as each
needle was withdrawn the Duke's breath whistled and he clapped his
hand to his shoulder or thigh, as if it were from his own body that the
needles were being drawn. After the last one was out, he sat slumped
in his saddle for a long time. When he finally looked up the
transformation that had taken place was astonishing. There was color
in his face, and the lines of pain had vanished, and his voice was loud
and ringing.
"Take the prisoner back to our stronghold to await our judgment,"
he cried. "Let this be a warning to all who would practice wizardry in
our domain. Giscorl, you have proved yourself a faithful servant." His
eyes rested on Ivrian. "You have played with witchcraft too often, girl,
and need other instruction. As a beginning you will witness the
punishment I shall visit on this foul wizardling."
"A small boon, oh Duke!" Mouse cried. He had been hoisted onto a
saddle and his legs tied under the horse's belly. "Keep your foul,
spying daughter out of my sight. And let her not look at me in my pain."
"Strike him in the lips, one of you," the Duke ordered. "Ivrian, ride
close behind him -- I command it." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]