Anderson, Kevin J - Gamearth 01 (17 page)

"Why
did
he attack us?"

Thilane shrugged. "Because that is what he does. The Outsiders put him there as a challenge to us. We refuse to accept it. The
dayid
gives us other tasks than to amuse childish Players."

Thilane moved Delrael's ankle, working patiently until the foot became limber and soft. Her strong hands continued to massage, pushing on the false calf muscles and finally, with a tremendous effort, bending his knee.

Delrael reached forward, tentative. Thilane guided his hand, touching it to the
kennok
wood. To him, the polished skin seemed hard as oak, yet warm somehow.

"Where are my clothes? My silver belt?"

"Nearby. Enough talk. Now move your toes."

"I can't. It's only wood."

"It is
kennok
wood! Now move your toes."

Delrael stared at his toes, and they seemed to stare back. He closed his eyes and concentrated. But he couldn't think how to move muscles that were not his.

"The
kennok
trees have been in this forest since the beginning of the Game. Some say the Outsiders do not know they exist
¯
they are the wellspring of the true magic of our world. But they are rare. And only once before, in all our chanted history, has this ritual been successfully performed
¯
for Jorig Falselimb, a great leader of the khelebar."

Thilane looked around in the shadowy darkness. "Jorig saved Ledaygen from a blood-mad wolf pack that haunted the Spectre Mountains. A saliva-fever had driven all the wolves into a frenzy
¯
and Jorig stood alone with the
dayid
to face them.

"The
dayid
took away Jorig's individual scent, making him smell like the pines, the oaks, the grass, the woodland flowers. The wolves were confused, but the great black leader of the pack found a
part
of the scent that was the khelebar, and he attacked that part of Jorig. The wolf bit off Jorig's arm. The black wolf died in a spasm of his own blood-fever, and the rest of the wolves fled.

"But the
dayid
was grateful to Jorig, and it showed the khelebar Healers how to make a false limb from the living
kennok
wood. After he became accustomed to it, Jorig used his wooden fingers to play a flute and to shoot his bow." She looked up into the night with a dreamy, distant expression on her face.

Then she whirled to shout at him, "Now move your toes!"

Startled, Delrael saw that in reflex his toes had moved. He felt a surge of surprise and relief.

Later, he did not want to sleep. The night went on and on. After an hour of intensive practice, Delrael used his leg clumsily. He could rotate his foot, he could bend his knee and move it. He still could not feel any sensation, but Thilane assured him that even that would come back, in time.

Already, the seam where the
kennok
wood joined his leg had grown less distinct as the elements of tree and man mingled together.

Thilane pulled forth an aged wooden knife with a blade polished and hard as iron. "We shall see if the acceptance is complete." Delrael watched the edge of the blade and envied its craftsmanship; the sharpness had been honed with infinite patience and devotion. Thilane reversed the knife and tapped the man's leg with the wooden hilt. A hollow sound rang in the still forest air. "Can you feel this?" Delrael concentrated. "I don't think so."

"And this?" Thilane flipped the knife in her hand and chopped the blade down hard into the
kennok
wood.

"Ow!" Delrael sat up as a slice of pain echoed through his leg.

"Good." Thilane hid her smile.

Vailret stood in the clearing and watched the night shroud the surrounding hexes of mountain terrain. Thessar, the tall and ancient Father Pine, loomed silent on the verge of the cliff-discontinuity. Over the sound of the wind in the trees, Vailret listened to the forest settle down.

The khelebar began to arrive in the clearing, surrounding a large bare circle where all the plants had been removed. A heap of wood
¯
the dead branches of Ledaygen
¯
lay within the patch of dirt. Flames from a new fire worked their way deeper into the pile.

Ydaim had told him that some of the khelebar were Treescavengers, whose purpose was to find and remove the dead and diseased branches. They used no tools, but somehow they scrambled to the tallest branches and removed the wood. "The
dayid
guides them," Ydaim had said.

Vailret had looked with awe around the forest. The aura of Ledaygen seemed to penetrate even to him, and he could sense the magic but he could not touch it.

He just hoped the
dayid
could help Delrael.

Bryl sat by the fire, shivering and trying to warm himself and his damp clothes. The old half-Sorcerer rubbed the Water Stone, looking distant.

Vailret watched him, trying to imagine being able to use the magic himself.

He drew in a deep breath, smelling the cool tang in the air, an aftertaste of smoke from the fire, the spice of pines and the plentiful dried leaves on the forest floor. Delrael might be dying ... the Outsiders had effectively stopped their quest in its tracks. The khelebar had lived with the threat of the Cyclops for years, and had done nothing about it.

Vailret rehearsed his line of attack as the panther people arrived.

The gathered khelebar looked at Vailret and Bryl, curious. Vailret wasn't sure what he wanted from them. He knew he was playing into the hands of the Outsiders by fighting back against the Cyclops. This was just an incidental adventure
¯
they should ignore the monster and push on as soon as Delrael had healed.

One of the khelebar, an older male with close-cropped hair streaked with gray, stepped into the pool of firelight and paced back and forth.

Ydaim Trailwalker sat beside the two humans, like a sponsor. He tossed his black braid behind his back and leaned over to whisper in Vailret's ear, "That is Fiolin Tribeleader. He will hear your arguments."

The other panther-people tightened their circle like a slipknot around the bonfire. Over the roar of the flames Vailret heard insect sounds in the forest. The bonfire spilled orange light over the cliff.

Fiolin Tribeleader turned to face the rest of the circle, silhouetting himself against the blaze. "Ydaim Trailwalker, you have called us together in council. For what purpose?"

With an excited gleam in his eye, Ydaim raised himself to his feet, broadening his shoulders. He brushed the pine cone pendant before he spoke.

"The man Vailret Traveler has not asked for just a council, Tribeleader, but a war council."

Ydaim held his ground when the other khelebar muttered in astonishment.

Fiolin maintained his cool expression, keeping his thoughts hidden. "Against whom will the khelebar go to war, after so many years of peace? And for what cause?"

Ydaim Trailwalker gestured to the two men. Vailret made ready to speak, but Ydaim continued. "The travelers speak against the Cyclops
¯
Pain-Giver, Life-Taker. The black smoke of burning,
living
trees coats the walls of his cave like dark bloodstains. I have seen it in my wanderings. And he preys upon helpless questers such as the man Delrael, now called
Kennok
limb, and these two here."

Vailret stood up. His elegant speeches melted away, leaving him weaponless to convey his anger to the mellow expressions of the khelebar. They stared back at him from the firelit shadows. Their unblinking emerald eyes made him feel as if he had stumbled into a jungle and was now surrounded by patient wild animals.

He swallowed and spoke. "Obviously, you must do something about the Cyclops." Bryl watched him. "He is destructive and dangerous. Why have you let him go unpunished for so long? He will keep hurting other characters if you don't do something."

"He maims trees," Ydaim added.

The khelebar remained silent, waiting for their Tribeleader to speak.

Fiolin mused for a moment. "The Cyclops has long been our enemy. Do others agree that we should try to drive him away now that he has harmed the man Delrael
Kennok
limb?"

Vailret fidgeted. He had hoped they would consider destroying the monster, not just chase him away.

One of the khelebar stood up. She had dark brown hair and a mottled panther pelt. Fiolin nodded to her. "Speak, Stynod Treescavenger."

She faced the Tribeleader, not looking at Vailret. "The Cyclops is a challenge for the khelebar to face. The Outsiders placed him here. His only purpose is to attack and destroy and eat
¯
we must endure him as best we can." Her voice grew hoarse and angry. "If we remove him, the Outsiders will only send something worse."

"And what if the Outsiders lose interest in that?" Bryl asked. Vailret gave the half-Sorcerer an appreciative nod.

"We happen to know the Outsiders
are
bored with Gamearth. They have already begun the destruction of the world. The Rulewoman Melanie has given us a quest to prevent it if we can."

One of the other khelebar, Noldir Woodcarver, nodded. "Ah, then that is why the
dayid
demanded that Thilane Healer save your companion."

Fiolin brooded a long moment, distracted and troubled. The firelight and the night sounds of the forest insects seemed to speak to him.

"The
dayid
is uneasy tonight
¯
I can feel it. Perhaps it sees the evil things that may come of this council."

A gibbous moon hovered over the eastern outline of the Spectre Mountains; Lady Maire's Veil draped glowing over the north. But Fiolin stared at a hazy orange glow nearby, rising from the treetops at the far fringe of Ledaygen. As he gazed without speaking, the other khelebar also turned to look.

The Tribeleader motioned to a blond-haired khelebar standing near him.

The young panther-man was deeply tanned with tigerlike whorls on his fur. Each of his arms bore an armband on the bicep, and a necklace of stones hung at his throat.

"Tayron, my son, go find the cause of that orange glow. It may be a sign from the
dayid
. Maybe it will help us make our decision."

"Yes, Father." The young panther-man turned to bound into the dark mass of surrounding trees, vanishing from sight.

Fiolin Tribeleader stilled the soft mutters around the bonfire. He turned to stare at Vailret. "The khelebar have not harmed a living being since the Scouring of Gamearth."

"The Cyclops is a killer," Vailret said, surprised at how calm his voice sounded. "By your inaction you caused Delrael to come to harm. You won't accomplish anything by slapping the monster's hands and telling him to stay in his cave."

Vailret stopped, letting the silence hang like a poised sword over the council. The other khelebar waited, watching their Tribeleader. Fiolin avoided looking at Vailret and sat back down in the firelight. "Perhaps we should wait for Tayron Next-Leader to return."

Vailret pursed his lips in impatience.

A long time later, they heard a khelebar plunging through the forest, reckless and crashing branches and undergrowth. Tayron Next-Leader burst into the cliff clearing, scratched and wild-eyed, gasping for breath.

Vailret had never seen a khelebar out of breath before, nor had he seen such an expression of horror and despair. Tayron gasped, scattering tears instead of words.

Fiolin pounced to his feet. "What is it? What have you seen?"

Tayron sobbed but managed to speak. "The forest! It is on fire!

Ledaygen is burning!"

* 7 *

A Fire In Ledaygen

"RULE #8: Magic users
¯
i.e., those with Sorcerer blood
¯
may attempt to use only a specific number of spells per day. Table A-3 lists spell allowances, calculated according to the character's percentage of Sorcerer blood, also taking experience into account."

The khelebar sat stunned. The heartbeat of the night fell silent, interrupted only by the insects. Vailret could hear the soft crackle of the bonfire and the whisper of a breeze through the interlocked trees.

"Can you not hear me?" Tayron Next-Leader choked on his words, aghast at his own people. "Ledaygen is
burning
!"

Fiolin broke from his shock and drew himself taller as he pointed to four of the khelebar. "Ydaim Trailwalker, you and three others go scout and tell me the extent of the fire. Quickly! We must know how fast it is spreading."

Ydaim glanced back at Vailret, then bounded with the others into the mass of trees. The four khelebar became dark ripples in the forest, loping toward the orange glow.

Fiolin Tribeleader continued to motion at the. other panther-people.