Elder Isles 2: The Green Pearl (49 page)

Kul said: “Listen carefully, because time is short. I will go to the far end of the forest and show myself. If they march to attack me, you run to the hut. At the door you will notice a rim of golden light. Stop and listen. If you hear nothing, the way is safe; you may pass through. If you hear harsh sounds or any sounds whatever, do not venture yourself; the hole closing and you will be chopped into a thousand motes, this all clear?”

“Yes, but what of you?”

“Have no fears for me. Quickly now; be ready!”

Glyneth cried out: “Kul! Should I wait for you?”

Kul made an urgent gesture. “No!” He lunged off through the forest.

A few moments later Glyneth heard Visbhume’s shrill outcry: “There stands the beast! To the attack! Pierce both with long-points and lances; break him with your maces! Strike with all force and accurate direction! Cut the horrid creature into minute parcels; let his red blood spurt and run! attention all! Do not strike or pierce the maiden!”

The black goblin-knights ran heavily forward, with the progressive Eels skipping to the side, while Visbhume rode well to the rear.

Glyneth waited as long as she dared, then, choosing her path, darted out of the forest.

Visbhume saw her instantly, and swinging about his long steed he sent it cantering across the sward to intercept her. Behind ran the Progressive Eels, hissing and whispering. Glyneth stopped short; she could never reach the hut in time. She retreated to the forest. Visbhume called out: “Halt! Vould you return to Watershade? Stand then, and hear me!”

Glyneth paused uncertainly. Visbhume brought his steed lumbering about in a grand curve, and halted directly between Glyneth and the hut. “Glyneth, make response! What will you say to me?”

Glyneth called out: “I want to go back to Watershade!”

“Just so! Then you must tell me what I want to know!”

Glyneth screwed up her face in sick indecision. Both Dhrun and Aillas would wish her to tell all she knew, if thereby she could save herself. But would Visbhume stand by his terms?

Shee knew very well that he would not do so. Certain of the Progressives eels were crouching and slinking toward her, thinking to make a sudden leap so as to catch her. She backed toward the forest. On sudden inspiration she halted. Reaching into Visbhume’s wallet, she brought out one of the glass eggs full of insects; this she hurled into the midst of the Progressive Eels.

For a moment they stood immobile, staring with disk-eyes glazed over with consternation; then, letting fall their long-pointed spears they lurched hissing and singing across the sward, dropping from time to time to roll and flail arms and legs in the air. Some plunged into the river and were seen no more; others wallowed in the mud along the shore, and crawled at best speed downstream.

Visbhume cried out: “Glyneth, the minutes fly! I will be safe, since my way is mysterious, but you will be lost forever!”

Glyneth called out in her most cajoling voice: “Visbhume let me go back to Watershade; do! And I will thank you, even though you brought me here; and King Aillas himself will answer your questions.”

“Ha ha! Do I seem such a fool? King Aillas will have me quickly hanged! Do you quibble with me while the preciou minutes flow by? I see the portal; it is still open, but already the golden rim is starting to fade! Tell me now!”

“Let me go first!”

Visbhume screamed in rage. “I make the conditions! Tell me now, or I go through the portal and leave you to the vile Progressives!”

Kul suddenly burst from the forest, and bounded toward Visbhume, who cried out in alarm and put his steed into posture of defense, with a pair of coiled tentacles snapping out toward Kul.

Kul picked up one of the long-point spears and came forward, circling and feinting with spear poised to throw, always Visbhume protected himself behind the high-reared neck, and now from the forest came the goblin-knights.

Visbhume began to make a wailing outcry.

“The time is short! Leave me be, that I may return to Earth! How dare you molest me so! Knights, kill me this beast, and quickly! The rim is fading; must I abide on Tanjecterly?”

Kul shouted: “Glyneth! Through the gate!”

Glyneth sidled around Kul and the eight-legged carpet beast, and made a new dash for the hut. She stopped short. The knights had come to attack Kul with maces on high. They chopped, but he slid away and plunged into their midst. Glyneth could see only a welter of movement, and then knights submerged Kul under sheer weight of numbers.

Glyneth, crying out in anguish, seized up a lance; running forward, she stabbed one of the knights; a heavy mailed leg kicked her in the stomach and sent her toppling backward. Then, as she watched, knights seemed to explode up and out as Kul thrust up from among them. With a mace in his hand, he smashed heads and sent knights reeling. Taking note of Glyneth, he shouted: “Go to the hut! Escape while you can!”

Glyneth cried out desperately: “I cannot leave you to fight lone!”

Kul groaned in frustration. “Must I be killed for nothing? Save yourself; at least do this for me!”

To Glyneth’s horror a black knight reared high; it swung up its’ mace and with full power and brought it down upon Kul, who slid to the side to avoid the blow, but fell once again to the sward. Sobbing in despair Glyneth turned and ran for the hut, find Visbhume in front of her, running on long prancing pointed-toe strides, his anxiety now only to extricate himself from Tanjecterly.

Visbhume arrived at the hut with Glyneth close behind, “Visbhume gave a croak of despair and stopped short. “Ah, sorrow, and grief piled on sorrow! The gold is gone! The gate is closed!”

Glyneth likewise came to a shocked standstill. The gold around the door-opening had faded completely, leaving weathered wood.

Slowly Visbhume turned upon Glyneth, his eyes yellow.

Glyneth shrank back. Visbhume spoke in a voice glottal with passion; “Now I must pronounce justice! By your deed I am trapped here on Tanjecterly, to bide a long and uncertain time! The blame is yours and so shall be the punishment! Prepare yourself for events both bitter and sweet, and of long duration!”

With face contorted he lurched forward. Glyneth dodged aside, but Visbhume held his arms wide with thin fingers outspread. Glyneth threw a despairing glance over her shoulder, but discovered only a field of corpses. In that case, she would throw herself in the river… . Above Visbhume loomed a shadow. Kul, with blood streaming from a dozen wounds, seized Visbhume by the neck, lifted him high and threw him the ground, where Visbhume lay whimpering and writhing. Kul stepped forward with his sword, but Glyneth cried out:

“No! We need to learn from him!”

Kul slumped to sit upon the steps of the hut. Glyneth went him. “You are wounded; you drip blood! I have no way to care for you!”

Kul gave his head a dreary shake. “Do not concern yourself.”

Gllyneth spoke to Visbhume. “What medicines and balms are in this wallet?”

“None!”

Glyneth looked at him closely. “How did you cure wounds where I stabbed you?”

Visbhume said thinly: “I carry only stuffs for my personal use! Give me now my wallet, as I will need it.”

“Visbhume: how did you heal your cheek?”

“No matter!” said Visbhume angrily. “That is my privage affair.”

With an effort Glyneth took up Kul’s sword. “Visbhume tell me now, or I will cut off your hand and watch to see how you deal with your hurt!” She raised the sword in the air. Visbhume looking up startled into the pale clenched face, reached into the pocket sewn to the inner side of his sleeve. He brought out first his silver pipe, then his fiddle and bow, in magically diminished form, then the two pieces of the broken stiletto, then a round white box, which he gave disdainfully to Glyneth “Rub this wax into the wound. Do not waste it; it is valuable.”

Glyneth warily put down the sword, and rubbed the wax upon Kul’s cuts, slashes, bruises and stab-wounds, despite Visbhume’s protests against her lavish employment of his personal commodities. With wonder Glyneth saw the cuts seal and the flesh become whole, to the magic of the balm. Kul sighed; Glyneth, working as gently as she could, spoke in alarm: “Why do you sigh? Do I hurt you?”

“No… . Odd ideas enter my mind… . Scenes of places I have never known.”

Visbhume rose to his feet and arranged the set of garments. He spoke with frigid dignity: “I will now take wallet and mount my carpet wole and be away from this unhappy site! You have done me incalculable harms, hurt my body and restrained my rightful exit from Tanjecterly. Still, in the circumstances, I will control my bitterness and make the best of affairs. Glyneth, my wallet, on this instant. Then, on my running carpet wole I will take my leave of you.”

Kul said shortly: “Sit down on the ground; if you run I am too tired to chase you. Glyneth, go to the carcasses yonder and find some straps and cords from their harness.”

Visbhume cried out in a brassy voice: “What now? Have you not dealt me trouble enough?”

Kul grinned. “Not nearly enough.”

Glyneth brought straps, from which Kul fashioned a collor for Visbhume’s neck with a leash twenty feet long. Meanwhile Glyneth gingerly explored Visbhume’s garments for secret pockets and removed all his magical adjuncts, which she tucked into the wallet. Visbhume at last stifled his protests and sat crouched in surly silence. The eight-legged wole on which he had arrived had strayed no great distance and placidy cropped the sward with its feeding tubes. Kul climbed to its long flat back and threw down a pair of anchors to prevent it from coursing away.

Glyneth addressed Visbhume: “Now: will you answer questions and tell us all we should know?”

“Ask away,” snapped Visbhume. “I must now serve you or risk damage to my poor body, where I already feel the pain of purple bruises. A person of my status is much demeaned.”

“If we are hungry, what shall we eat?”

Visbhume considered a moment, then licked his lips. “Since I too hunger, I will tell you how to find bounty. In the wallet you will find a box. Take therefrom a scrap of cloth, and spread it smooth. Let fall upon it a drop of wine, a crumb of bread and a sliver of cheese.”

Glyneth followed instructions and the trifle of cloth instantly expanded to became a fine damask cover laden with all manner of viands, and the three ate to their satiation, whereupon the cloth once more became small.

Glyneth said: “Visbhume, you have been forming quiet plots. If they help you, then we have only ourselves to blame, and we will therefore be vigilant, and show you little mercy if you anger us.”

“Bah!” muttered Visbhume. “I could form a dozen plots a minute, or wear them like yonder tree wears its leaves, but to what avail?”

“If I knew, you would never learn from me.”

“Ah, Glyneth, your words are hurtful! At one time tender feelings existed between us; have you forgotten so soon?”

Glyneth grimaced but made no comment. “How can we send a message to Murgen?”

Visbhume seemed genuinely puzzled. “To what purpose? He knows you are here?”

“So that he can open a new gate, and rescue us.”

“Murgen, no matter what his power, cannot break a new gate when the pendulum is swinging.”

“Explain, if you will:”

“I spoke in parable. There is no pendulum. At a certain pulse, time is static both here and on Earth, and the gate can be opened at one node or another. See the black moon which moves around the northern sky? It strikes a radius with a central pole and somewhere along the radius a node can be opened, if pulses are in synchrony. It is a matter of exacting calculation, since time moves at different rates here and on Earth. Sometimes here time goes fast and on Earth slow, and sometimes the opposite. Only when time runs at the same rate, as determined by the pulses, can the gates be opened. Otherwise, gates could be opened anywhere at any time.”

“How can the gate be opened again, and when, and where?”

Visbhume rose to his feet and, as if in boredom or perhaps abstraction of thought, started to remove the collar from his neck. Kul gave the leash a tug which sent Visbhume jumping in a ridiculous caper to keep his balance.

“Do that no more,” said Kul. “Be happy the strap is only around your neck and not through holes in your ears. Answer the question, and do not try to confuse us with verbiage.”

Visbhume growled: “You would take all my valuable knowledge and give me nothing, and still tie me by the neck, as if I were a cur dog or a Progressive.”

“But for your doing, we would not be here; have you forgotten?”

Visbhume blew out his thin cheeks. “No good cause is served in dredging up ancient history. That which is done is done, whether we rejoice or grieve! That is my slogan! At that twist in the prism known as ‘Now’ we are to concern ourselves only with immediate cases.”

“Just so. As of ‘now’ answer the question.”

Visbhume said loftily: “Let us work practically! I must take the lead, since the knowledge is mine, and you must trust me to consider our mutual interests. Otherwise I must in intricate detail school you in all the… ”

Visbhume stopped short as Kul began to draw taut the leash. Kul said: “Answer!”

Visbhume said plaintively: “I was preparing my careful response! Your conduct lacks all gentility.” He cleared his throat. “The matter is complex, and, so I fear, beyond your understanding. Time moves by one phase on Earth and by another here. Each phase consists of nine quavers, or pulses, or, even better, constrictions in and out from the central node of what we call ‘synchronicity’. Is this clear? No? As I supposed. There is no point in going farther. You must trust my best judgment.”

Glyneth said: “You still have not answered me. How do we return to Earth?”

“I am so doing! Between Earth and Tanjecterly, the synchrony lasts six to nine days, and, as we have seen has just ended. Then it sweeps away, along the radius of the black moon with the center node. At the next pulse, the gate will open into another place, but none so easy as Tanjecterly. Hidmarth and Skurre are demon-worlds; Underwood is empty save for a moaning sound; Pthopus is a single torpid soul. These were discovered and explored by Twitten the Arch-mage, and he compiled an almanac, which is of great value.”