The Dark World, Henry Kuttner [best e book reader for android txt] 📗

thing first — do not waste my time with lies. I shall know if you tell the truth, Covenanter. Remember it.”

I shrugged.

“Why should I bother with lies for such as you?” I said. “I have nothing to hide from you. The more of truth you know, the stronger you’ll see my case is. First, though — those slaves who came in before me?

She nodded toward the back of the cave.

“I sent them into the inner mountain. They sleep. You know the heavy sleep that comes upon those loosed from the Spell, Lord Ganelon.”

I sat down, shaking my head.

“No — no, that I can not quite remember. I — you asked for the truth, old woman. Listen to it, then. I am Ganelon, but the false memories of Edward Bond still blur my mind. As Edward Bond I came here — but Aries told me one thing that brought Ganelon back. She told me that the Coven, in my hour of weakness, had dressed me in the blue cloak of the sacrifice and I was riding for Caer Secaire when the woodsmen attacked us. Must I tell you now what my first wish in life is, witchwoman?”

“Revenge on the Coven.” She said it hollowly, her eyes burning into mine through the fire. “This is the truth you speak, Covenanter. You want my help in getting your vengeance. What can you offer the woodsfolk in return, save fire and sword? Why should we trust you, Ganelon?”

Her ageless eyes burned into mine.

“Because of what you want. My desire is vengeance. Yours is — what?”

“The end of Llyr — the ruin of the Coven!” Her voice was resonant and her whole ageless face lighted as she spoke.

“So. I too desire the ruin of the Coven and the end — the end of Llyr.” My tongue stumbled a little when I said that. I was not sure why. True, I had been sealed to Llyr in a great and terrible ceremony once — I could recall that much. But Llyr and I were not one. We might have been, had events run differently. I shuddered now at the thought of it.

Yes, it was Llyr’s end I desired now — must desire, if I hoped to live.

Freydis looked at me keenly. She nodded.

“Yes — perhaps you do. Perhaps you do. What do you want of us then, Ganelon?”

I spoke hastily:

“I want you to swear to your people that I am Edward Bond. No — wait! I can do more for them now than Edward Bond could do. Give thanks that I am Ganelon again, old woman! For only he can help you. Listen to me. Your foresters could not kill me. I know that. Ganelon is deathless, except on Llyr’s altar. But they could fetter me and keep me prisoner here until you could work your spells again and bring Edward Bond back. And that would be foolish for your sake and for mine.

“Edward Bond has done all he knows for you. Now it’s Ganelon’s turn. Who else could tell you how Llyr is vulnerable, or where Matholch keeps his secret weapons, or how one can vanquish Edeyrn? These things I know — or I once knew. You must help me win my memories back, Freydis. After that — ” I grinned fiercely.

She nodded. Then she sat quiet for awhile.

“What do you want me to do, then, Ganelon?” she asked, at last.

“Tell me first about the bridging of the worlds,” I said eagerly. “How did you change Edward Bond and me?”

Freydis smiled grimly.

“Not so fast, Covenanter!” she answered. “I have my secrets too! I will answer only a part of that question. We wrought the change, as you must guess, simply to rid ourselves of you. You must remember how fiercely you were pressing us in your raids for slaves, in your hatred of our freedom. We are a proud people, Ganelon, and we would not be oppressed forever. But we knew there was no death for you except in a way we could not use.

“I knew of the twin world of Earth. I searched, and found Edward Bond. And after much striving, much effort, I wrought a certain transition that put you in the other world, with memories of Edward Bond blotting out your own.

“We were rid of you. True, we had Edward Bond with us, and we did not trust him either. He was too like you. But him we could kill if we must. We did not. He is a strong man, Covenanter. We came to trust him and rely upon him. He brought us new ideas of warfare. He was a good leader. It was he who planned the attack upon the next Coven sacrifice —”

“An attack that failed,” I said. “Or would have failed, had I not swung my weight into the balance. Edward Bond had Earth-knowledge, yes. But his weapons and defenses could only have breached the outer walls of the Coven. You know there are powers, seldom used, but powers that do not fail!”

“I know,” she said. “Yes, I know, Ganelon. Yet we had to try, at least. And the Coven had been weakened by losing you. Without you, none of the others would have dared call on Llyr, except perhaps Ghast Rhymi.” She stared deeply into the fire. “I know you Ganelon. I know the pride that burns in your soul. And I know, too, that vengeance, now, would be very dear to your heart. Yet you were sealed to Llyr, once, and you have been Covenanter since your birth. How do I know you can be trusted?”

I did not answer that. And, after a moment, Freydis turned toward the smoke-blackened wall. She twitched aside a curtain I had not seen. There, in an alcove, was a Symbol, a very ancient Sign, older than civilization, older than human speech.

Yes, Freydis would be one of the few who knew what that Symbol meant. As I knew.

“Now will you swear that you speak with a straight tongue?” she said.

I moved my hand in the ritual gesture that bound me irrevocably. This was an oath I could not break without being damned and doubly damned, in this world and the next. But I had no hesitation. I spoke truth!

“I will destroy the Coven!” I said.

“And Llyr?”

“I will bring an end to Llyr!”

But sweat stood out on my forehead as I said that. It was not easy.

Freydis twitched the curtain back into place. She seemed satisfied.

“I have less doubt now,” she said. “Well, Ganelon, the Norns weave strange threads together to make warp and woof of destiny. Yet there is a pattern, though sometimes we cannot see it. I did not ask you to swear fealty to the forest-folk.”

“I realize that.”

“You would not have sworn it,” she said. “Nor is it necessary. After the Coven is broken, after an end is made to Llyr, I can guard the people of the woods against even you, Ganelon. And we may meet in battle then. But until then we are allies. I will name you — Edward Bond.”

“I’ll need more than that,” I told her. “If the masquerade is to pass unchallenged.”

“No one will doubt my word,” Freydis said. Firelight flickered on her great frame, her smooth, ageless face.

“I cannot fight the Coven till I get back my memories. The memories of Ganelon._ All_ of them.”

She shook her head.

“Well,” she said slowly, “I cannot do too much on that score. Something, yes. But writing on the mind is touchy work, and memories, once erased, are not easily brought back. You still have Edward Bond’s memories?”

I nodded.

“But my own, no. They’re fragmentary. I know, for example, that I was sealed to Llyr, but the details I don’t remember.”

“It would be as well, perhaps, to let that memory stay lost,”

Freydis said somberly. “But you are right. A dulled tool is no use. So listen.”

Rock-still, boulder-huge, she stood across the fire from me. Her voice deepened.

“I sent you into the Earth-World. I brought your double, Edward Bond, here. He helped us, and — Aries loved him, after a while. Even Lorryn, who does not trust many, grew to trust Edward Bond.”

“Who is Lorryn?”

“One of us now. Not always. Years ago he had his cottage in the forest; he hunted, and few were as cunning as Lorryn in the chase. His wife was very young. Well, she died. Lorryn came back to this cottage one night and found death there, and blood, and a wolf that snarled at him from a bloody muzzle. He fought the wolf; he did not kill it. You saw Lorryn’s cheek. His whole body is like that, scarred and wealed from wolf-fangs.”

“A wolf?” I said. “Not —”

“A wolfling,” Freydis said. “Lycanthrope, shape-changer. Matholch. Some day Lorryn will kill Matholch. He lives only for that.”

“Let him have the red dog,” I said contemptuously. “If he likes, I’ll give him Matholch flayed!”

“Aries and Lorryn and Edward Bond have planned their campaign,” Freydis said. “They swore that the last Sabbat had been celebrated in the Dark World. Edward Bond showed them new weapons he remembered from Earth. Such weapons have been built and are in the arsenal, ready. No Sabbats have been held since Medea and her followers went searching to Earth; the woodsfolk held their hands. There was nothing to strike at except old Ghast Rhymi. Now Medea and the rest of the Coven are back, they’re ready. If you lead against them Ganelon, the Coven can be smashed, I think.”

“The Coven has its own weapons,” I muttered. “My memory fails — but I think Edeym has a power that — that — ” I shook my head. “No, it’s gone.”

“How can Llyr be destroyed?” Freydis asked.

“I — I may have known once. Not now.”

“Look at me,” she said. And leaned forward, so that it seemed as though her ageless face was bathed in the fires.

Through the flames her gaze caught mine. Some ancient power kindled her clear blue eyes. Like pools of cool water under a bright sky — pools deep and unstirring, where one could sink into an azure silence forever and ever….

As I looked the blue waters clouded, grew dark. I saw a great black dome against a black sky. I saw the thing that dwells deepest and most strongly in the mind of Ganelon — Caer Llyr!

The dome swam closer. It loomed above me. Its walls parted like dark water, and I moved in memory down the great smooth, shining corridor that leads to Llyr Himself.

IX. Realm of the Superconscious

ONWARD I moved. Faces flickered before me — Matholch’s fierce grin, Edeyrn’s cowled head with its glance that chilled, Medea’s savage beauty that no man could ever forget, even in his hatred. They looked at me, mistrustfully. Their lips moved in soundless question. Curiously, I knew these were real faces I saw.

In the magic of Freydis’ spell I was drifting through some dimensionless place where only the mind ventures, and I was meeting here the thoughts of the questing Coven, meeting the eyes of their minds. They knew me. They asked me fiercely a question I could not hear.

Death was in the face Matholch’s mind turned to mine. All his hatred of me boiled furiously in his yellow wolf-eyes. His lips moved — almost I could hear him. Medea’s features swam up before me, blotting out the shape-changer. Her red mouth framed a question — over and over.

“Ganelon, where are you? Ganelon, my lover, where are you? You must come back to us. Ganelon!”

Edeyrn’s faceless head moved between Medea and me, and very distantly I heard her cool, small voice echoing the same thought.