Year of the Unicorn (25 page)

"Wait." Herrel slipped from his horse. Sword in hand, he went towards the brush in which the brown thing had vanished. Just before this bolt hole he drove the sword point down into the earth and rested his two hands upon its hilt, right over-lapping left as he spoke again in that other tongue, this time sing-songing the words until they made the pattern of a chant. Having so done, he pulled free his sword and, using the tip as a writing tool, he drew symbols in the dust of the road behind us and along both sides for a space of several feet.

"What was it?" I asked as he returned to me.

"A wenzal. One alone is no great danger. But when one sniffs, more follow, and in a pack they are no foe to be smiled upon."

"Those marks-" I pointed to those he had traced in the dust.

"To murk our trail. That scout will seek out his kind.

They will up the hunt."

"Are they of those whom you spoke-neither good nor ill, but able tool to either?"

I heard him laugh. "You listen well, my lady. No, the wenzal is wholly ill, but it is also cowardly, and it can be routed by knowing the right weapon with which to face it. Usually it comes not down from its high places. Mayhap it was intended for a guardian thing, made to be a lock upon our borders. If so, it was marred in the making, for it turns against all comers."

"Then it might be here only by chance-" I ventured.

Again I heard his laughter, but this time with less amusement in it. "This far from the border? No, the wenzal is not that great a traveller. And, as I said, it is a coward, keeping well away from Arvon's core lands. If a pack runs here now, they have been summoned.

"They must know that you have a defence against them-"

"Against one wenzal, or even five perhaps-against a full pack that is another matter. These creatures gain courage from numbers and their rage feeds in proportion to their company. When that rage reaches a certain point, then they care for nothing-save the overwhelming of the enemy. And stopping them at that moment is far beyond a single sword or any small sorcery I possess."

"There is also this." he added as he took up the reins once again. "Each small delay works to the Riders' favour." Then he fell silent. Perhaps he strove to see with the mind's eyes what new plague they could send upon us. But I had other thoughts.

As I had the day before I began to try to break the illusion, searching the ground before us. And so I was rewarded by marking a mist-walled keep backed against the dale hill side. But try as I would, I could not deepen nor darken its outlines. It would not become solid in my sight. That worried me, for I guessed that my power was lessening. Was it. true that the other Gillan grew the stronger on what she drew from me?

"Herrel." I broke the silence. "When we come to that other"-I would not allow myself to say "if"-"then what happens? How do two become one again?"

He did not answer at once.

"How?" I demanded with more heat. "Can it ever be so? Or is that one truth you have decided to spare me?"

"It can be so, but as to the doing, that I am not sure. It may be that, once face to face, you will be drawn to one another as a magnet reaches for iron. I only am sure of this, apart there is grave danger which increases every moment. And because they have her, you are the one under most threat."

"If I only knew more!" Once again I knew that old frustration. "To be half-witch-that is to be already half defeated!"

"Do I not know-" he answered out of his own bitterness. "Hold this in mind-they strive to make you less than half. Had we but time we would ride to the Fane of Neave, but that is half the land away and there is not that much time left us."

"Who is this Neave that he or she has power you may look to?"

"Neave is-no, I can not put name, a single name, to Neave. The wind blows, the rain falls, the earth is fertile and brings forth fruit-and behind that fruitfulness stands that which is Neave. Man seeks maid and she does not deny him, bearing other fruit in turn, and Neave is there also. Neave works not against the natural order of things, but with them. The beginning of life, its natural ending, is Neave's. War sorcery, evil sorcery done for ill purposes-can not exist in the Fane of Neave; only that which nourishes and abides. I could not enter that fane-but you could and perhaps be safe-though of that I am not sure."

"But you are not evil!"

"I am Were-and so against the true course of nature. My kind may not ride in the deep dark, but we go overshadowed through our lives. Our sun has many clouds."

"I hazard you call upon Neave-in the night-"

I could feel the sudden tension of his body through those encircling arms.

"At such times men call upon each and every Power they may know. But I am not Neave's liegeman. I would not be accepted."

So I had been led away from the question he could not answer, whether I might ever be whole again, even if I met face to face that Gillan Halse wooed. It was another fear I must keep at bay by thinking only of the here and now and not of that which lay yet to come.

"You have no plan, except to overtake them?"

"I have a plan, if by nightfall we reach a certain stage on this journey. But only a plan of shadow-not yet of any substance."

I did not press him. Instead I watched for more habitations in the hills and thought that, in the afternoon, I saw a second ghostly collection of walls and roofs. Only this time my second vision was even fainter.

We came to where the road split again about one of those earth mounds. This bore a single pillar at its centre and Herrel drew rein beside it.

"Off with you and up." He helped me to dismount. "Swear you will remain at that pillar's foot until I come again. That is a place of safety for you."

I caught at his sleeve. "Where do you go?"

"To find that which I must have to aid us this night. But remember-at the pillar foot you are safe. These are spell encircled and only that which is harmless and of good meaning can so abide."

I obeyed, clinging to the top of that earthen platform. Again that weakness was upon me, and the effort I expended left me spent, willing to drop at the foot of the pillar. Herrel had left the road and rode along the land. Now and then he dismounted to look at what seemed to me to be the protruding roots of long buried trees, where soil had washed away to show the gnarled wood. Perhaps this had once been a forested place, but the trees still growing were small of girth and widely scattered. These, too, he studied, but from the saddle. And at last it was under one that he set to digging with his sword. He hacked at what he had uncovered, and then gathered up a bundle of what he had unearthed and cut up. Bearing this before him, he rode back to me.

At the forefront of the mound he dumped his harvest and I could see they were indeed roots or parts of roots, crumbling with age but with yet a core of hardness. Three times he dug, hacked, and brought that ancient wood, until he had a pile of pieces which, with care, he built into a conical heap. This done, he climbed to join me, bringing the saddle bags with food and the bottle he had filled from brook water.

"What do you with that?" I gestured to the wood pile.

"That will at least reveal the nature of the peril which may creep upon us at moon rise. I think Halse will force the issue. He has never counted patience among any small story of virtues he possesses. But we do not need to watch until dark closes in. Sleep now if you can, Gillan. The night may be long and without rest for us when it comes.

Herrel's Challenge

AFTER A long space I spoke. "There is no sleep this night for me, Herrel. Tell me what you would do. To be warned by scout horn is to have shield on arm before the foes arrive."

His head turned. Though the upper part of his face was shadowed by his helm, I could see his mouth and chin. He smiled.

"Well do you speak in the terms of war and battle, Gillan. You are a shield mate and sword companion as

good as any man could wish. This then is what I would do-I wait not their will, their choice of the hour and field for battle-I summon them to mine! At moonrise I shall set fire to that root heap there-and they will be drawn-"

"More sorcery?"

Now he laughed. "More sorcery. It is laid upon us that our true nature is revealed and we are drawn to flames which dance from wood as old as we. A thousand dale years-even so long a span of time would not suffice to hold a Were from answer if you found a tree of his age. I do not think they will expect me to challenge them even this far. They will believe I shall be content to leave well enough alone-live so on some scrap of hope. For if I summon them thus, then I must be prepared to meet them with full power and array-"

"And you believe this possible?" I could not stifle that question. I must have his reply.

"Fortune will rule the field this night, Gillan. I do not know what shape they will wear, but if I can name Halse, throw him sword challenge, then they must allow me that right. So can I bargain-"

So many chances and so little assurance that any would be the right ones. But Herrel knew the Pack and this land. He would not choose so reckless a course unless he saw no other way. I could find no protest which was right and proper for me to offer.

"Herrel, it was to me that they did this thing-have I no right of challenge in my turn?"

He had drawn his sword, and it rested across his knee. Now he ran one finger tip down the blade from hilt to point. After a long moment he raised that weapon and held it out, hilt first, to me.

"There is a custom-but it puts a heavy burden on you-"

"Tell me!"

"If you can give a shape changer his name in the firelight, then he must take man's form again. Whereupon you may demand blood right from him and name me your champion. But if you speak the wrong name to him whom you so challenge, then you are his to claim."

"What difference might my success mean?"

"It would give you the right to set the stakes-that other Gillan. If I challenge there is an equal chance they could deem this Pack quarrel only, with no stakes other than life or disgrace."

"Do you think I might not name Halse? He is a bear."

"The beasts you have seen are not the only shapes we may take upon occasion, only those which are the most familiar. And at such a test as this he would not show as bear."

"But you could warn me-"

Herrel was already shaking his head. "That I could not, by word, or gesture, or even by thought! The naming would be only yours and on you the burden of its success or failure. If you stand out before them, holding this sword, then you will be the challenger."

"I have the true sight. Have I not proved that?"

"How well does it serve you now?" he countered. I remembered the mist-halls I had seen in the afternoon and my feeling that the power ebbed.

"This afternoon-I tried to see-" I was not really aware I had spoken that aloud, but Herrel drew the sword out of my reach.

"It is too great a risk. I shall challenge by Pack right and bargain as I can-"

He sounded decisive but still my mind played with what he had told me, and I leaned back against the pillar, running my hands along its age pitted stone. My sight, if I could but regain that illusion-breaking sight only for the few moments needed for the naming of true names! Up and down the stone my fingers moved, around and around in my mind thoughts spun, seeking some solution. There were herbs in my simple bag which cleared the head, sharpened the senses-as well as those which cured wounds and illnesses. My bandaged arm moved now without pain. Surely there must be some way to strengthen my inner power for as long as was necessary. If I only knew!

"Herrel-the healer's bag, please fetch it." To expend even so much effort as to hunt for it would endanger what I would try. "What-?"

"Bring it hither! How long have we before they come?" He moved slowly, gazing at me over his shoulder as if he would have out of my mind what I planned. But he brought the bag and laid it in my lap.

"I do not know. I light the fire at moonrise-then we wait."

But that would not do-I must have a better idea of time. My fingers released the latching of the bag. I searched within for a small bottle cut and hollowed from a prism of quartz. "What do you plan?"

I opened my fingers. Even in this shadow light the prism seemed to glow.

"Have you ever heard of moly, my lord?" His breath caught in a half gasp. "Where got you that?"