Gaal the Conqueror (25 page)

Read Gaal the Conqueror Online

Authors: John White

Tags: #Christian, #fantasy, #inspirational, #children's, #S&S

BOOK: Gaal the Conqueror
11.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

John grunted, and the dragon went on, "More remarkable
still, or I should say more dangerous still, people who are under
the spell seem to know that something is wrong with them.
They flock to him as bees to nectar. He teaches them what
Anthropos is supposed to be like and keeps setting more of
them free from the spell they are under. He urges discretion,
but there are some who seem unable to restrain themselves
from walking round the city initially shouting, `I'm free! I'm
free.' It has infuriated the Circle."

John frowned. "Ponty, what happened to all those people in
the village? I mean, you know, when the continent tilted ... did
they.. . ?"

After a few moments Pontificater said, "What happens when
land sinks under the ocean?"

There was a long silence. Eleanor's face was drawn and her
eyes glazed. John licked his lips and said, "Surely you don't
mean ... You could be mistaken, you know. We only know
about the tilt in the desert, and about what happened here.
There could be a big crack somewhere. Everything may be O.K
on the northern coast."

Pontificater shook his head. "I flew back on Gaal's instructions. The village no longer exists. Even the mouth of my own
cave is now below the water. There are new islands that were not there before while islands that were there have vanished
beneath the sea."

"Were there other villages along the coast?" Eleanor asked.

The dragon nodded. "And they all sank too?"

Again the dragon nodded. "The Circle does not mind losing
people for whom it no longer has any use."

"Is that why Shagah did it? Because they no longer needed
those people?"

The dragon stared out over the river. "No. It is true that they
had no more interest in many thousands of people who were
drowned once you, the Sword Bearer, had slipped through the
human net in which they planned to catch you. The villages all
along the coast were that net. You see, it was known that you
would appear in that area. But Shagah (who serves Lord Lunacy) was not attempting to dispose of them. He had other aims
in mind. In his rage with the mountain tribes it was his intention to bury the very mountains in which their villages are
found. But his magic had met with a project bigger than he, and
the mountain tribes remain."

After a while John said, "It makes me ill to think about it.
They just mess around with their plans and thousands of people die by mistake. Lord Lunacy and the Circle don't care.
People are just nothing to them."

"That is why we must make sure that Gaal survives. Gaal does
care for people. He delivers them from the Circle's spell. In
Bamah they hide out in a system of caves, and in tunnels inside
the city walls. For their sake Gaal must survive."

"And for dogs," Eleanor said. "At any rate he cared for me
when I was a dog."

"I could make a similar comment, I suppose, about his concern (it could of course be an isolated instance) for a coldblooded, scaly and allegedly mythical, winged reptilian-namely, the
dragon who lounges before you."

"Oh, Ponty! It's good to be back with you!" John said.

Pontificater pretended to ignore him, but immediately became terse. "We must get Gaal away from danger," he snapped.
"You still have the Mashal Stone?"

"Then you should be able to penetrate any place where they
might hold him captive. The problem will be to get him free
once you find him."

John's heart missed a beat. He was not sure whether he liked
what he was hearing. But he kept his fears in check for the
moment. "The Mashal Stone can make more than one person
invisible," he said. "Last time I was here Mab and I linked
ourselves together by wrapping it round both of our arms. That
way we both disappeared."

Eleanor sounded excited. "You mean if Gaal were captured,
you could get to him by making yourself invisible, and then
make him invisible too?"

"I guess so. But Gaal told us he intended to die," he said at
length. "I still don't know what he meant, but he made it sound
all right."

"Naturally. Isn't that exactly what he would do? You know
what sort of a person he is."

"Ponty, I don't think any of us know what sort of a person
he is."

Eleanor frowned. "Gaal talked about a part of him that
couldn't be killed. Then he said that in a way he was different
from the Changer. because he had a real body, and said that
`that part of me can be killed.' Then he said, `Of course there's
another part of me that won't be killed.' But he didn't explain
what he meant. He just said, `You'll see for yourselves later on.'
So if he dies ... oh, I'm scared."

They all lapsed into silence, and after a few minutes as the
weariness of their long journey exerted its toll, Eleanor and
John excused themselves to lie down on beds of fine straw,
leaving Pontificater to gaze at the River Rure in the moonlight.

 

John was dreaming. He was alone in a strange building-a
rather frightening and large building, with rooms as wide as
streets. It was like a medieval cathedral that hadn't stopped
growing. Light from smoking lamps sent murky shadows gliding stealthily into obscure corners where they quivered in panic. He did not find it at all strange that snow should be falling.
All he knew was that he was shivering with cold as he desperately tried to find his way home. Yet wherever he went he
seemed always to return to a sort of central nave where the
smoking lamps hung from dim arches high above. Suddenly a
hand grabbed his shoulder. He swung round to face his foe.
But he saw no one.

A voice said, "It is time to leave. Hurry. We must not delay."

"I'm trying to leave," John said. "I don't know the way out."

Again and again the invisible hand shook him, and the words were repeated, until he woke to find himself in darkness,
and to realize that a dragon's not-too-gentle claw was on his
shoulder. He was very cold.

"Necessity alone, I might even say urgent necessity prompts
me to wake you, Sword Bearer. We can delay no longer. Gaal's
need is great It is time to depart," the dragon urged.

John's head was heavy and his eyes sore. Grumbling to himself he scrambled to his feet, shivering and hunching his
shoulders. His muscles ached. He saw Eleanor, who apparently
had been awake some time, at Pontificater's side. She held the
treasures and seemed to be taking them somewhere.

"Where are we going?" John asked. "How come the fire's
gone out?"

"We are going to Bamah," said the dragon as he and Eleanor
began moving toward the rear of the cave.

"Wait a minute. Isn't the way out over there?" John said,
gesturing to the cave entrance.

"One way out is over there," replied Pontificater over his
shoulder. "But our way out is over here."

"Please, Ponty," John said groggily as he stumbled after the
pair, "I'm still not awake yet Can't you try to make things simple
for once?"

"We're going through some underground tunnels that Gaal
told Ponty about," Eleanor replied. "It will. be safer this way.
Shagah won't be able to spot us as easily. Now that we're so
close to Bamah it's more important than ever to be careful.
These tunnels will take us almost to the city walls."

The children walked in the wake of the dragon as the tunnel
slowly curved toward Bamah. Soon their eyes adjusted to the
dimness. The walls seemed to glow with a faint blue light that
comforted and guided them. Often they passed other passages
that were not blue lit but glowed red or which only appeared
to be full of darkness. The dragon never paused at such junctions but followed the blue light with steady certainty. Gradually John's head began to clear. He was surprised that the tunnels
were large enough for the dragon to move through them with
ease. He was not surprised, however, that he and Eleanor had
difficulty keeping up with him. Frequently Pontificater had to
stop for them to catch up with him as they traveled on for the
rest of the day.

When they emerged, they found themselves on the west bank
of the Rure. The sun had already set. "We must leave the tunnel
here," the dragon told them, "in order to join another set of
underground passages that will take us inside the walls of the
city itself. The night will hide us for the moment."

The dragon nodded his head toward a hill south of them
several miles. "The ancient and evil city of Bamah," he said. In
the darkness they could dimly make out the walls of a large
town. Fear seeped through John's skin. He remembered all that
had happened to him in the village. If his experience there had
been bad, what would the city be like? Were they on a fool's
errand? "How do we get in?" he asked in a worried tone of
voice. "And are you coming with us?"

They began walking toward the city, staying near what few
trees there were along the river bank for protection. "You will
see," the dragon replied with uncharacteristic brevity. "For the
moment, let us keep silence so as to maintain our secrecy."

An hour later they came to a halt just under the city walls.
"Notice the tree just above us," the dragon whispered. "It is no
ordinary tree."

Above them at thirty yards on the bare hillside they could see
the stark outline of a dead tree. Two bare boughs, like too gaunt
arms, reached skyward as though calling a curse down on them.
John and Eleanor stared at it. Eleanor looked at the dragon. "It
looks ordinary enough," she said uncertainly. "Just a bit
spooky-and dead."

"It is not a real tree but an enchantment created by the
Circle. Real trees live and die. That tree was always dead and will always be dead. It has never lived. It marks the entrance
to Gaal's secret tunnel."

John said, "Some secret! How can it be secret if the Circle
has put a marker by the entrance? And where is the opening?
I don't see any sign of one."

Pontificater did not reply but advanced up the steep hill toward the tree, stopping ten yards short of it. "Open in the name
of Gaal!" he called. Slowly and silently a large oval-shaped
section of the hill began to move toward him. Soon they were
able to perceive that it was a door of earth and rock, thousands
of tons in weight. As it swung wide it revealed a broad tunnel
that curved into the hill before them in the direction of the city
walls. It was filled with pale blue light.

They followed Pontificater inside the tunnel, and at Pontificater's order the ponderous door swung silently closed.

"Where are we going?"John asked. "I mean, where does this
come out?"

"It, er, bifurcates, indeed it trifurcates and even quadrufurcates-if you will pardon the neologisms."

"Oh, stop it, Pontificater, you and your neolo-what's-its-"

"I am only trying to be linguistically precise."

"Why don't you just say the passage divides or splits or something. All we want to know is where it goes-and about it being
secret."

Pontificater sniffed, and for a moment seemed inclined to
sulk Eleanor worked herself alongside him. "John didn't mean
to be rude, Ponty," she said. "You know so much, but we don't
have the tremendous education you do. Just tell us simply-"

"Simplicity may be simple. But like complexity it demands
linguistic precision, and may therefore call for relatively obscure expressions at times," Pontificater said. "Not only do I
find vague explanations personally offensive, but inefficient. In
the long run-"

"You're a childish showoff," John said wearily. "Nothing more and nothing less. You don't have to use big words that
nobody understands to be precise. You use them to show off.
I bet you don't understand half of them yourself."

Pontificater ignored him, turning after a few moments to
Eleanor, who was now walking beside him. "It is true that the
existence of this section of the tunnel is known to the Circle.
However, they are unable to enter it or use it. They cannot
stand the blue light. Moreover, the tunnel crosses a chasm of
deep darkness that leads to the Caves of Aphela. There are also
side tunnels belonging to the Circle that lure those who use the
tunnel into enchantments."

Other books

Devil in the Details by Jennifer Traig
Unclean by Byers, Richard Lee
Crazy for You by Juliet Rosetti
Ride 'Em (A Giddyup Novel) by Delphine Dryden
Tsea by Arthurs, Nia
Welcome to Hell by Colin Martin