The Fallable Fiend (8 page)

VI

AITHOR OF THE WOODS

The night was as dark as the underside of a boulder—as we say in Ning—when Ungah and I were lowered in slings from the battlements of Ardyman’s Tower in a drizzling rain. Segovian did not wish to open even the small upper portal, lest sound and movement draw the foe’s regard. To be less visible, I turned from my normal slate-gray to black.

At the base of the tower, Ungah gave my arm a hasty squeeze and melted into the night to southward. I skulked around the tower and reached the ditch on the northern side. I sprang down into the fosse and up the far side, such a leap being nothing to a Twelfth Planer.

I paused with my ear to the stockade until I heard the tramp of a Paaluan sentry. Waiting until this sound had died away, I dug my claws into the wood of the palings and crept up and over, moving slowly like some sluggish insect.

Inside, all was quiet. The sentry had vanished. I threaded my way across the space between the inner and outer defenses, weaving between piles of equipment. The outer defenses were only a shoulder-high embankment, with enough of a ditch before it to provide the earth for the embankment.

I almost stumbled across another Paaluan sentry, sitting asleep with his back to one of the piles. With my superior night vision, I had easily seen him had I not come upon him suddenly on rounding a corner.

I could have slain him with a tap of my mace, but attached by a thong to one wrist was one of the smaller dragon-lizards used to smell out foes. As I checked myself, this reptile raised itself on all fours and shot out a long, forked tongue.

I stood as still as a statue, with my skin as black as I could make it. The lizard took a step towards me and ran the tip of its tongue up the shin of my leg. It did this several times, as if it liked me—or at least my smell.

I could not stand there until dawn, being licked by this affectionate dragon. When the creature failed to subside, I began to steal away. The dragon, however, tried to follow me. Its leash pulled on the wrist of the sleeping sentry and woke him. He stared at me and scrambled to his feet with a wild yell.

I hesitated, wondering whether to spring back and slay him or start running. I was trained in reason and logic on my own plane, but reason and logic are of small avail when one must instantly make up one’s mind.

An answering shout made up my mind for me. If the alarm had already been given, it would do no good to pause to destroy this one sentry. The delay might, in fact, prove fatal to me as well. So I sprang over the embankment, leaped the ditch, and sped north. The camp awoke with an angry buzz, as of the nests of certain stinging Prime Plane insects when disturbed. Presently, several Paaluan scouts rode forth on their bouncers, holding torches aloft. The bounding gait of these mounts caused the torches to leave fiery tracks in the dark, like the arches of a bridge across a river.

Both Prime Planers and bouncers, however, are half-blind at night. With my nocturnal vision, I had little trouble in avoiding their hindering dashes. As we demons put it, well begun is half-done.

The countryside north of Ir City was almost deserted. Most of the countryfolk who had not taken refuge in Ir City had fled to Metouro or to Solymbria. The few who did not get away in time had been caught and salted down for future consumption.

I ran all night and most of the next day. In my wallet I had a small map, showing the main roads between Ir and the Ellorna Mountains. In general, though, I ignored the roads and kept as straight a course to northward as I could. I reasoned that Paaluan scouts were more likely to be met on the roads than in the backlands.

Hence I had to scramble over rocky hills, wade through swamps, and push through thickets. These probably cost me all the time I should otherwise have saved by traveling in a straight line. On the other hand, I did not meet any Paaluans.

The obstacles slowed me far less than they would have hampered one of these feeble Prime Planers, who can scarcely run up a steep hill for a few bowshots without having to halt and gasp for breath. Still, whereas we demons are stronger than Prime Planers, we cannot keep up such a pace forever. We must stop betimes, consume a substantial meal, and go into digestive torpor.

At the end of the second day, I came upon a stray sheep, which had so far eluded the Paaluan foragers. I ran the creature down and spent most of the following night devouring it. When I had finished, there was little left besides its skin and bones. I fear my act violated Hwor’s injunction to obey the rules of the Prime Plane; but, as they say, necessity knows no law.

Then I took my torpor. I slept all that day, and the following night. When I awoke, I was astonished to see that the sun was lower in the east than when I went to sleep, until I realized that a day and a night had elapsed.

Not wishing to be so delayed again and still swag-bellied from eating the sheep, I bethought me of other means of transport. If I could ride a horse, for instance, I could reach Solymbria City in one long ride, pausing only when necessary to rest and graze the beast. According to my map, I should soon cross the Solymbrian border.

I cast my eye over hill and dale for a horse. Sure enough, I found one, a stray like the sheep, cropping grass in a dell. It wore a bridle but no saddle.

Having seen Prime Planers ride, I had some idea of how it was done but no practical experience at equitation. On the Twelfth Plane, the animals used for carrying loads are more like those the Prime Planers call tortoises. They plod sedately along, requiring only a modicum of skill to start, guide, and stop. The Prime Plane horse is something else.

But, as the saying is, we know not what we can do until we try.

I started towards this horse, slowly and quietly so as not to alarm the creature. I changed my color to match that of the grass. The horse, however, saw me coming. It rolled an apprehensive eye and trotted off.

I increased my pace, but the horse only trotted faster. I ran; the horse broke into a canter. I ran faster; the horse galloped. I slowed; the horse slowed and presently returned to its grass.

For hours that day I trailed that wretched beast without getting any closer. I bethought me that at least I ought to herd it north wards, towards my ultimate destination, so that the time should not be utterly wasted.

When the sun was low in the west, the horse at last showed signs of fatigue. It was slower in starting away as I approached. By approaching it downwind so that it should not catch my unfamiliar smell, I got close enough for a sudden dash, while its head was down feeding, and leaped upon its back. I closed my legs about its barrel as I had seen Prime Planers do, grasped two handfuls of mane, and hung on.

The instant I landed upon that horse, the creature went wild. It put its head down and began making short, stiff-legged jumps, bounding alternately to right and to left and circling. At the third jump, my grip was torn loose. I flew through the air and crashed into a shrub, with enough force to have slain a Prime Planer outright.

Freed of its rider, the horse galloped off. I dragged myself out of the bush and ran after it. By the time the sun was low, I had caught up once more with the beast, which stood with hanging head and heaving sides.

It took several stalks to get close enough to essay another leap, but I did it. This time I not only wrapped my legs about the animal’s body but also clung to its neck with both arms. The horse again went into its buck-dance, but I clung with more success. That is to say, I did not lose the grip of my legs until its fifth jump. Although cast loose in that quarter, I still clung to its neck. The result was that, as I was hurled through the air, I gave its neck a terrific twist. Hence it lost its balance and fell, partly on top of me.

I clung to the animal’s neck. As it made gasping efforts to breathe, I realized that my grip was shutting off its windpipe. Soon it became quiet, and I was able to seize the bridle.

Since its ribs still heaved, I knew that I had not choked the horse to death. In fact, it presently rolled to its feet and tried to back away, dragging me through dust and grass after it. I took several nasty knocks from its fore hooves, and it also bit me in the arm. At that, I slapped it hard enough to jar it.

The struggle continued until darkness fell, albeit both contestants neared the limits of their endurance. In the end, the horse was willing to stand quietly and to follow me when I led it about by its bridle. I tethered the bridle firmly to a stout, low branch of a nearby tree and lay down to rest. The horse, I thought, would also need a rest. Moreover, I did not wish to ride it at night, fearing that it would blunder over a cliff or into a slough in the dark.

###

The next day, I began to see signs of human life: unburnt farmsteads with smoke issuing from their chimneys, and a village or two. When I rode the horse in to a village, however, the first Prime Planer to sight me let out a terrified scream.

“The cannibals! The cannibals are coming!” he shouted, running down the main street and flapping his arms like a bird about to take flight. In a trice, all the other folk were running or riding madly away in all directions. I called after them: “Hold! Come back! Fear not! I am a messenger for the Syndicate!”

But they only ran the harder. When all had vanished, I helped myself to some food I found in a shop and rode on.

Where the road crossed the Solymbrian border, I found a customs house and, on a nearby hill, a watch tower, but both were deserted. I carried ambassadorial credentials to get me past Solymbrian soldiers and officials. I had been told to present these documents to the border post before passing on into the archonate, but there was nobody to present them to.

It took me some time to think this matter out. Should I settle down here to await the return of the missing guardians? No, I thought; Ir might fall whilst I dallied. At last I thought: hearing rumors of the invasion, the guardians may have fled to Solymbria City. The best way to carry out my orders was therefore to follow them thither. So I rode on, troubled natheless because I was not obeying my orders in an exact and literal way. On my home plane, we do not give such slipshod commands.

###

After crossing the border, the road to Solymbria City winds through a dense forest, mostly of ancient oaks. This woodland, called the Green Forest, is one of the few truly wild areas left in Novaria, where most of the land has been turned into farm, pasture, and city. In the Green Forest roam deer and boar, leopard and wolf and bear.

I saw none of these beasts, however. What did befall me was as follows: I was jogging along and thinking how much more sensibly we demons manage things on the Twelfth Plane when two men stepped out of stands of dense forest on either hand, whirling ropes with large nooses on their ends. The one on the left cast his noose at my horse’s head. Seeing the circle of rope whirling towards him, the horse gave a startled leap to the right. Unprepared for such a bound, I lost my hold and flew through the air. I came down on my head on a stone.

I know not how long I lay unconscious. It seemed but a wink; but, when I strove in a dazed way to get up, more men had swarmed out of the foliage and seized my horse. When I attempted to rise, I found that they had bound my wrists behind my back and had tightened nooses around my arms and neck.

I made one effort to burst the bonds that bound my wrists, but my captors had done their work too well. Since my senses still swam from the knock I had received, I thought it better to defer attempts to flee until I learnt somewhat of my captors and their purpose. Besides, two of them kept cocked crossbows trained upon me. All were armed and roughly clad.

“Ho, by Heryx’s iron yard! What’s this we have caught?” said a voice. The speaker, a big man with a curly mop of brown hair and beard turning gray, spoke Novarian, but in an unfamiliar dialect.

“A Paaluan cannibal!” said one. “Slay him!”

“You are misinformed, sirs,” I said. “I am no Paaluan; merely a demon in the service of the Irian Syndicate.”

“A likely story!” said the man who had spoken. “Just the thing one of those ronyons would think up. We’d best slay him in any case. If he be a Paaluan, it serves him right; if he be a demon, he were no loss.”

“Methinks the pilgarlic’s right,” said another. “Paaluans are said to be human, even if they have inhuman customs.”

“Oh, shut thy gob, Nikko!” said the first speaker. “You’re always gainsaying—”

“Like the nine hells I will!” cried Nikko. “When I hear nonsense, I name it as such—”

“Shut up, both of you!” roared the big, curly-haired man. “Ye, Nikko, and ye, Karmelion! If ye two brabble again, by Astis’ teats, I’ll swinge you both! Now, methinks Nikko’s right; at least, I’ve never heard of Paaluans’ having tails and scales. Come along, O demon.” He started to lead the party off into the forest. “Put another lasso on him; he may be stronger than he looks.”

“More likely, he’ll vanish back to his own plane and then return invisibly to murther us all,” grumbled Karmelion.

They led me and my horse along a scarcely visible trail through the forest. The leader turned back to ask: “By the way, demon—”

“My name is Zdim, if you please, sir.”

“Very well, then, Zdim, where did ye ever learn to ride?”

“I taught myself, the past two days.”

“I might have guessed it, for seldom have I seen a more awkward horseman. I watched you for a bowshot ere my lads snared you. Know ye not that to saw on the reins as ye do will ruin a horse’s mouth?”

“Nay, good my sir; I have not had the benefit of your advice.”

“Well, ’tis a marvel that ye manage as well as ye do—without a saddle, too. Ye say ye re on a mission from Ir?”

“Aye,” I said, and told him of the siege. I added: “And now may I take the liberty of asking who you gentlemen are, and why you detain me?”

The big man grinned. “Ye might call us social reformers. We do take from the rich and give to the poor. As for me, you may call me Aithor.”

“I see, Master Aithor,” said I, realizing that I had fallen among robbers. “Taking from the rich I can understand, but on what logic do you give to the poor?”