The Return of Kavin (13 page)

“Greetings, Thuramon,” the dragon said in an enormous thrumming voice. “It has been long since you last came to us. What is it you seek, wise one?”

“We had an enemy, Arrakimok,” Thuramon answered where he sat in the stern. “That enemy has returned and is at work again.”

The dragon uttered a deep sound like a three-note chord, a sound of pleasure.

“You know me by name, Thuramon,” Arrakimok said. “Few of your kind seem able to do that.” The head turned, and the emerald eyes aimed at Fraak.
“And a Small One!
It is well that the Small One is not caged and wears no collar, as I see. Are you the friend of Thuramon, Small One?”

“I’m Hugon’s!” Fraak piped, and sprang across the boat to settle on Hugon’s shoulder; his golden eyes stared up, boldly and unafraid, into the emerald ones.

“Oho?” the giant dragon said, and suddenly made a sound, a deep-booming musical phrase; a question, apparently. Fraak tooted back, his tail lashing with pleasure at finding another who could speak his language.

“The Small One is pleased with you, man,” Arrakimok
said,
his emerald eyes on Hugon.
“And also with the black man.
He says that you are honest men.” The amused note came again. “He sees much in you… and you are with our ancient friend, Thuramon, also… who seems to have lived a very long time for one of your kind.”

The dragon stared now at Kavin, in the bow, for a long moment.

“Another?” he said, slowly. “You too… you were that Prince who came here with the other, long ago. This is very strange, man.”

Kavin’s eyes were steady. “I am the Prince,” he said.

The dragon hummed. “The gates will be opened, humans. It is certain that our Old Ones will wish to hear more of all this.”

The creature moved away from the boat, the enormous wings spread wide, and Arrakimok shot swiftly up and into the air. Then he swiftly grew smaller, arrowing toward the looming rock ahead.

“There!” Kavin pointed. “The gate opens.”

In the wall of stone, a gap had
appeared,
an arched space into which the sea eddied. Zamor and Hugon bent to their oars again, and the boat drove through the opening.

Beyond, a stone quay loomed in the shadows under an overarched dome of rock. A single brilliant light, a point of bright gold, hung over the quay, a curious lamp such as neither Hugon nor Zamor had ever seen before. As Kavin jumped to the quay and made the boat fast, the other two stared at the light curiously, shipping their oars. But Thuramon rose, and climbed out, beckoning them to follow.

Fraak was wildly excited now; as the group went forward, he spread his wings and shot into the air, circling and swooping around Hugon’s head and piping musically; smoke trailed from his widely opened mouth as he dived and swooped.

Zamor laughed, looking up. “He must smell his own kind, I think.”

Ahead, a door opened, without apparent help; Thuramon and Kavin went confidently through it, and Zamor and Hugon followed. They felt less certain than the other two; both men kept their hands near their swords, moving watchfully. Here, they walked along a hall that seemed cut out of the rock itself; the strange lamps lit it at intervals.

Then, approaching them out of the distance, they saw a human figure, the first living man they had seen so far in this place. He moved slowly, pacing toward them; and as he came closer, they saw that he was very old, with a face that seemed made of brown leather. But his eyes surveyed them brightly under the shadow of a hooded garment he wore.

Thuramon stopped and
waited,
the others behind him. The magician stared at the newcomer, with an amazed expression.

“Are you…” Thuramon paused, touching his own beard in a gesture of puzzled thought. “Is it possible that you are
…
Arastap?”

“I am,” the ancient one said; his mouth stretched in a smile. “And though this body is as you see it, much worn with time and use… I have no flaw in memory. I remember you well, Thuramon, though your beard was shorter then.
And this other, the Prince, who once undertook a service for us.
It would seem he alone has escaped the work of time…” And the old man chuckled. “Yes, I know much of what has happened.
Even something concerning you two.”
He looked at Hugon and Zamor. “A black king, and a knight of nowhere…
”.

Zamor stared at Arastap, his face stony.

“I am no king,” he said, in a level voice.

“You have a king’s blood,” Arastap said.
“Though that makes no difference in this place.
But… it may be better not to waste time. The ancient enemy grows stronger. Come.”

He walked away with long strides, and the others followed.

They came now into an enormous circular room, domed,
lit
by a misty glow of sourceless light. The floor was paved with odd designs, circles and shapes and letters in some unknown language, inlaid in jewels and metal; and the room held only one other occupant.

He lay, curled in a spiral of tail around a huge low table, his mighty head reflected in the black glass of the table’s top as he seemed to look down at it. Then the head swung up, and huge glowing eyes regarded the newcomers; a ripple of movement stirred the blue-gleaming scales, and the dragon spoke.

“Welcome, Thuramon, and these others,” the huge voice boomed.

“Greetings, wise and ancient one,” Thuramon said, stepping forward to face the giant creature. For a long moment, they looked at each other, the small gray beard and the enormous saurian; and Hugon, watching, suddenly was aware of a passage of something between them, wordless, yet real. It was
a recognition
, he thought. They were alike in some way, the man and the dragon.

“I have long wished to return here,” Thuramon said. “But without invitation it would not be the thing to do. Now…”

“It is most necessary that you speak with us,” the dragon said. “Forgive us our need to be left alone. Few men are welcome here, as the Prince Kavin knows…” The great eyes looked at Zamor and Hugon. “You should also know the reason for our wish to remain alone. We are few, and old, for the most part. Many of our kind have gone away to worlds where we are… more at home. We remain, to teach a few of your folk whatever we can, and to preserve the work we have done in this world… but we have no desire for commerce with mankind.” The huge head bent over the glass table again. “Now, however, we need the hands of men, once again. Our ancient enemy is awake.” The dragon stared down at the glass and the humans came closer, drawn by a silent order.

The black glass of the table was glowing and flickering, as though currents of light flowed deep within the material. As they watched, it cleared into a tiny perfect image of a great city, webs of streets and houses, walls and towers; a glimmer of sea, beyond, and the green hills that crowned the other shore of the Narrows.

“Mazain,” Hugon said, and Zamor echoed the word with a grim look.

There was a lake, a long oval of shining water; reflected in it, the groves and the tall palaces that surrounded it. And in the midst of the lake, the enormous bulk of the Imperial House; tower rising upon tower, over ancient walls of solid rock. Just beyond, at the island’s tip, among the trees, a second dark mass of building stood.

“The Temple of the Lord of Night,” the dragon said. “So he has revealed himself to the Emperor, sending him dreams and visions. And the Emperor is now his servant, building that temple which is no temple, but a gate.
As you know, Thuramon.”

“I know,” Thuramon said quietly. “I came here because of this. The Egg of Fire…”

“The Egg,” the dragon said. “It is there, in the Imperial House. He has it, and will place it in its position in the silver gate, when the gate is complete. With the Egg of Fire in place, that gate will open to all worlds and places, even the place where Ess now lies.”

“The Egg is a great crystal,” Thuramon said to the others. “There were others like it, once, but as far as I know, there’s but one left here. How the Emperor obtained it, I don’t know, but he has it.” Thuramon’s face was grim. “And he holds the world in his hand with that.”

“There is still time,” the dragon said. “The gate is not yet finished. If the Egg of Fire were gone…”

“Yes,” Thuramon said. “That. Can you aid us?”

The dragon stared at him for a long time.

“We will give you what we can,” he said at last. “It may be that we should not… but you have a Small One with you, and he has given his love to one of you, this one with the fair beard.”

Fraak, sitting on Hugon’s shoulder now, had been very quiet, as if awed; but realizing that he was being spoken about, he preened and uttered a low note.

The giant dragon replied with another sound, like a deep laugh. His enormous mouth seemed to be smiling.

“Small One, would you like to come here to live with us, your Elder Brothers, and learn to be wise?” the dragon said.

Fraak blew a long plume of smoke, and lifted his wings.

“I want to stay with Hugon,” he said, firmly. “Why should I want to be wise?”

“Why, indeed?” the dragon asked, in a deep voice. He stared at Hugon. “When one of the Small Ones chooses a human friend, it is fortunate for that man.
As it is most unfortunate for those who try to cage our Small Brothers against their will.
Listen, Small Brother. Some day, your people will follow ours to the place where we will soon go… but not within your lifetime, so be as you are, and be happy.” The deep laugh came again. “You are wise not to choose wisdom. We find it a burden, sometimes… and a burden that once taken
up,
can never be set down again.”

The dragon turned its head and looked toward Arastap.

“After so long, the Law must be broken,” the dragon said. “We shall give a few of our weapons to these humans. A few… though even this is against our wisdom. Thuramon, you I need not warn. You have special knowledge of the evil of some things. And you, Prince Kavin…” The great eyes glowed strangely. “Yours is a special and strange fate, I think. There is no need to caution you. But you, black man, and you of the fair beard…” He looked at Hugon and Zamor.

“We of the Dragon people have long lives, and we remember many things,” the deep voice went on. “We neither hate nor love you of the human kind, but we dislike the disturbances you cause, when you learn too many tricks. Now and again, we do what we can to keep you from growing too clever for your own good… and we have an ancient law that we must never give you knowledge of certain tools and weapons. A law I fear we must break, now.”

Hugon tilted his head to look directly into the huge eyes; he scowled a little as he stared, and his hands gripped his belt as he stood stiffly.

“Now, my lord dragon…” Hugon said, in a loud, clear voice. “Though I may be breaking the law of hospitality by disagreeing with you… I must speak.”

The dragon stared at him silently.

“You’re wise enough, I don’t doubt,” Hugon said. “But you spoke of… as you put it… keeping we human folk from growing too clever. Wise as you are, I doubt you can do that. We learn, slowly I grant you, but we learn, year by year.” He paused, and stared grimly. “But if what you say is true… that your folk have used some magic or other to keep my kind from true wisdom… why, then, I call you enemy of my folk and of me, though you slay me not!”

Hugon’s voice rang loudly as he finished. Zamor glanced at him and shrugged grimly; his big hand dropped to his sword, and he whispered to Hugon, “You’re a fool, brother.” But more loudly, Zamor said, “I stand with my brother Hugon in all things.”

Thuramon flung up his hands and uttered a harsh bark of laughter, and Kavin, too, chuckled. The big dragon made no sound, but sat, still grinning.

“The young man is bold,” the dragon said, slowly. “But I would not have him for an enemy. He is one who seeks wisdom, I think, and therefore he is right to speak so. Listen, man; there is wisdom, and there are tricks. Ask your warlock here; he knows both magic and sleight-of-hand, I think. If your folk become too fond of tricks, they will have no time to learn true things. I tell you this because we of the Dragon folk have lived long enough to see the proof. Come here, and look.”

Hugon came closer to the table, reluctantly; he still felt a deep anger, but he controlled it.

“Look,” the dragon said. “This is a true record of a place and time when men had learned many tricks… but no wisdom.
In a different world… but still men, like you.”

The image in the glass glowed darkly as Hugon stared. He saw the tiny forms of men moving carefully among huge ruins… smoke drifted by, and there were dead men on the ground.
No, not men only, Hugon saw, as he bent closer.
There was a small dark form, a child… he shuddered as he saw that it seemed to have been hideously burned.

A dark shadow sped across the imaged
ground,
and something enormous and winged swooped past. Bright flashes spat from the ground, and from the winged thing, which Hugon saw now was something like a great machine, with men in it.

“I wish there were time to show you much more, seeker of wisdom,” the dragon said, with a faint note of irony.
“Much, much more.
There, for example, you see a world where men slay most skillfully, with weapons of great art… for no reason that any of them can discover. In that world, they have neither wisdom nor any gods at all… and soon, for one reason or another, there will be no men there, either. I could show you many worlds where there are no men; in some, there are few beasts or birds, either, and even the sea is poison, now.
And all done by man’s tricks, seeker Hugon.”

Hugon shrugged. “Because others are fools, as you seem to say, why should we be fools too?” he asked. “I think we can learn, unless you prevent us.”

“What do you wish to learn, man?” the dragon asked.

“What?” Hugon repeated, and scratched his beard. “Why, all there is to know. From the stars in the sky to the fish under the sea, for one thing, and the shapes of things, for another…” He stopped and laughed. “If I knew the name of the wisdom I seek, I’d have it already. But look you, Lord
Dragon,
I’m what I am, a man with a hunger and not knowing the word for meat, d’you see? But a Goddess… or somebody very like
Her
… promised me this much, that I’d die wiser than I am.” He stopped, and grinning, scratched Fraak’s scaly head.