Garan the Eternal (11 page)

Read Garan the Eternal Online

Authors: Andre Norton

I bore down upon his wrists and then his teeth closed upon my left hand, piercing it to the bone. By the Grace of On, I managed to hold my grip long enough for Anatan to come to my rescue. With all his force he brought the heavy pommel of his dress sword down upon the rait smoker’s unprotected head.

The man blinked and sighed, then rolled away from me. I was able to scramble up unsteadily. Blood dripped from my wounded hand to spatter on the pavement But to my
utter amazement we were alone. The noise of our fight and the cries of my attacker had brought no one. I looked about the deserted street and then at Anatan. He nodded soberly and I knew that the same thought which whirled through my dizzy head occupied him also. We had been set upon by design.

Someone had laid a trap and we had walked heavy-footed into it. The rait smoker had been placed there for our disadvantage.

“Let him lie.” Anatan jerked his head toward the limp body of my late opponent. “We had better reach the flier while we are still able.”

Agreeing heartily, I twisted the corner of my cloak about my bloody hand and we took to our heels in earnest. Though we passed into more brilliantly-lighted and well-peopled avenues we did not slacken our pace. Shortly we were panting up the ramp to the landing stage.

There we must wait while the sleepy attendant brought out our flier. And I, for one, did not breathe freely again until we were both within the narrow confines of its closed cabin.

“Make for the armory,” I directed Anatan, “and land on its roof. I shall take no more chances this night. When we return, try to make a landing within that alley.”

“Difficult business,” he commented.

“But better than another meeting with a rait smoker. And it can be done by a careful man.”

A second later our landing gear touched upon the flat roof of the squat armory wherein were kept the secrets of my force for the protection of all Yu-Lac.

Chapter Six

The Ways of Darkness

By the mist of light from the tiny radium rod I carried in my belt pouch I located the trap door covering the ramp which led from the roof. Around my neck night and day I wore the key which unlocked this and every other door within the confines of the military quarter. I now put this to use.

But it required Anatan’s strength as well as mine to raise that ponderous slab of metal-bound stone and lay it back upon the roof. Again my radium rod came into use, lighting the thick dark below us.

Having in mind just which storerooms I wished to plunder, I sped down the ramp and through the maze of narrow corridors it gave upon, until, at last, I came to a door marked with a broad scarlet strip. I unlocked this, my fingers trembling so that the key clinked against the lock plate, for I firmly believed that I was running a race with time itself.

Within, neatly laid up in glass-fronted bins, were suits of scales made to cover a man from head to foot, even to his fingertips. They were light in weight but chemically treated so as to withstand all known death vapors and heat rays. Pointing these out to Anatan I gave him his orders.

“Sort out enough of these for all of us. I will join you later on the roof.”

Leaving him there, I went down yet another ramp to the floor below, there seeking out the room wherein were stored certain new ray throwers of a radical type not yet issued to the corps. On the testing field they had made an excellent showing in both accuracy and range, but as yet their worth had not been proven to the full satisfaction of our experts.

I laid aside six of these small torch-like rods and with them extra charges of green, violet, and infrared lenses. To the new and untried weapons I added an equal number of the regular pattern in use, again with extra charges. And then, as I turned to go, I came upon a belt of grippon hide
equipped with a large radium light cell, the sort of accouterment worn by those venturing into the Lapidian caves. I added this to my spoil.

Back again on the roof I found Anatan, there before me, impatiently pacing about the flier. Besides the indestructible scale suits he had found four war swords of the ancient pattern, swords that were meant to be used in hand-to-hand combat on the field and not as dress ornaments.

We replaced the trap door and I locked it. Then back in the flier Anatan pressed the lever which sent us soaring upward. Avoiding the patrols, flying their regular beats above the city, we circled back over the route we had come.

Luckily the pleasure palace was easy to identify from the air and Anatan speedily discovered our alley. Then, in spite of his doubts, he accomplished an expert piece of maneuvering, setting us down upon its pavement not ten paces from the door. If we had not been in one of the smallest of private ships he could not have done it As it was there were but two hands’ breadth between its polished sides and the alley wall.

We gathered up our spoil and, so laden, went to the door. At my knock it opened smoothly without sound and Analia peered out, bright gleam of her dress and ornaments dulled by the shadows.

Again we traversed those crooked ways within the walls until we stepped through an opening into a small, bare court. There were Thran and Zacat crouched above a tattered strip of yellowed fish skin, the substance upon which the ancients of our race had recorded their deeds.

“You return so soon? That is able work,’ Lord Garan. Now what do you bring us?”

I hurriedly explained my choice of weapons and held forth one of the scale suits for Thran to examine. In the light the crystalline, octagonal scales possessed a jewel-like sparkle. Zacat smoothed it with all the love of a fighting man for a good tool of his trade. But his interest was thoroughly aroused when Anatan produced the antique war swords.

“Good steel.” He ran his thumb down the shining blade of one. “I would rather have this than all the ray rods in Krand. For steel never plays a man false. That is a clever lad, that Anatan of yours.”

“It seems that you have robbed your armory to some purpose,” agreed Thran, checking our spoils for the second
time. “Nor have we been altogether idle while you were gone.”

He waved his hand toward a corner of the court and there were heaped small concentrate food containers and jars of the so-called “water” drops which are issued on the march through desert countries. So treated, enough food and water to suffice a man for days might be carried in a belt pouch no larger than my two fists. In addition there was the map over which they had been stooping when we entered.

“Little enough do we know of the underground ways. Save for the perverted Lapidians, we humans have shunned the surface paths below,” Thran pointed out as he smoothed his map. “But always there are those who seek knowledge in strange places. Such was the soldier Kem-mec, who lived in Yu-Lac some five thousand years ago.

“They were excavating then for the foundations of the first of the great defense towers and, in order to provide it with an indestructible base, the builders went far deeper below the surface than they had ever pierced before. On the twenty-seventh day of excavation they laid open a section of one of the Ways of Darkness.

“Kem-mec sought and obtained permission to enter and explore the unknown passage in view of its possible future use for military purposes. He was unable to gather any followers and went alone. The equipment of that day was, of course, vastly inferior to that our underground explorers rely upon today, but he did manage to explore and map a large section of the Ways honeycombing the rock upon which Yu-Lac stands. There were abundant indications that these huge tunnels and chambers had been hollowed out by mechanical means and it is supposed that they were the products of the skill of that inhuman race which preceded us in the mastery of this planet.

“His first trip below merely aroused Kem-mec’s thirst for further knowledge. He went again and again and finally failed to return. In the meantime it was considered best by Am est the Great, Emperor of Yu-Lac at the time, to close the opening.

“He made this decision suddenly after receiving the confidential report made by Kem-mec upon his return from his next to last trip. It can be readily surmised that the soldier- explorer had discovered something highly dangerous to the city. What it was was never made public.

“Up until half a year ago all Kem-mec’s earlier reports
and maps moldered undisturbed in the library of the Learned Ones at Semt. But when I wished to look through them, moved by curiosity, I discovered them gone, with the exception of this single map which had been caught against the upper cover of the coffer in which they had been kept. The attendant informed me that Kepta of Koom had, with the permission of the head librarian, withdrawn them for private study.

“Then this place was built and a passage delved to intercept one of the Ways Kem-mec had mapped. At the same time Kepta developed a sudden interest in the age-old temples of Qur, paying them several semi-secret visits. And Qur is, as we know, the last stronghold of that weird faith distilled from the forgotten rites of the Older Ones.

“In leaving me this one map, however, Kepta left a potent weapon. For this traces what we need most now, a route under the sea to Koom. And tradition has it that it was over this route Kem-mec went on that last journey from which he never returned. The fate which overtook Kem-mec five thousand years ago may still await those who follow in his steps today. But it was this path that Kepta and Da took this night, of that I am certain. Somewhere along its length may lie the menace which caused Amest to seal the Ways. Does that menace still exist?”

Zacat snorted. “We can only go and see.”

I was already laying out the scale suits and portioning the weapons. Thran laughed. “It seems that Kem-mec’s kind have not deserted his calling. Let us prepare then.”

We shed our dress armor and undertunics, then pulled on the tight-fitting scale suits. The basic material, upon which the protecting scales had been laid, had elastic properties which made it cling to the skin of the wearer. A grotesque mask equipped with oax-Ienses, which had the power of magnifying distant objects and also enabled those who used them to see clearly in all but absolute darkness, hung down across our shoulders ready to be pulled on.

Once so encased, we were, as far as I knew, invulnerable to any known weapon. The smooth surface of the scales would dull and turn the sharpest blade and withstand as well burning or freezing rays.

Over the scale suits we girded the swords Anatan had brought, hooking to their belts in addition both an old and a new type ray rod. Extra charges for our rods and the
small cans of supplies went into pouches of grippon hide, to be carried slung over our backs.

But when we were ready and turned to the door a fifth reptilian figure was awaiting us. Analia, her red wig gone and her dark hair loose about her throat, was engaged in locking about her waist the radium cell belt. To this she calmly proceeded to hook ray rods before stooping to pick up a bag of supplies.

“Analia!” cried her brother. “What madness —?”

“I go,” she interrupted him calmly. “Where Thrala has been, there I will follow. And you cannot deny me. I enter this venture with open eyes, even as I have done from the first. And the Ways of Darkness can hold no more danger than this palace has in the past. I go.”

And with that she turned and vanished through the door. I turned to Thran, who was folding the remaining scale dress, Anatan having brought six for some reason, into as small a package as he might before slipping it into his supply pouch. He looked up at me with a trace of smile.

“When a woman speaks with that voice, Lord Garan, it is best to allow her her own way at once, for years of argument will not bring her to your way of thinking. Analia will not delay us; she has proved her strength and courage in her mistress’ service many times in the past. She goes.”

So I was forced to leave it, but the thought of a woman sharing the perils of the unknown was certainly not to my liking. And my resentment was shared by Anatan, who was enraged. Only Zacat cared nothing, being eager to test the dangers of the path before us.

Analia was waiting for us in the hall and under her expert guidance we threaded the web of corridors and chambers in search of that ramp up which we had charged such a short, and yet such a long time ago. In spite of my unspoken doubts we attracted no attention in any of the rooms through which we passed. Our strange dress marked us as entertainers of some sort to the few half-drunken fools we did encounter.

Once again we found and descended the broad ramp, but this time there came no suggestive piping rhythm to entangle our feet and minds, only a dry and dusty silence such as is found in the primeval mountain temples of Ru, a silence full of the dust of vanished centuries. Now the lights did not change color, only grew paler as we advanced, until at last
they faded away altogether and we halted to adjust our masks with their darkness-piercing eye shields.

The black pavement was again underfoot but now no corruption-filled ray came from above and the winged, dancing shapes were gone. Here Thran took the lead, hurrying us forward across the vast emptiness of that deserted hall.

Another ramp, this one so steep that we must clutch a handrail of time-smoothed stone, opened before us and, without hesitation, Thran darted down it. Halfway down he sank to his knees and picked up some object which he held out to us. On the palm of his scale glove twinkled a scrap of the glittering stuff which had embellished the robes of Thrala and Da.

“We follow the right road as this messenger tells us,” he said and tossed the scrap away. But I stooped and searched for it, tucking it into my pouch.

Down and down into an ever-thickening darkness we went, darkness which might have overpowered us entirely had it not been for our oax-lenses. Analia would have switched on her radium cell lamp, not knowing what, or who, might lie in wait for us below, but Thran would not allow it. As long as we could see at all it was better not to give warning of our approach.

Now I noted a sudden change in the character of the walls. Before they had been of smooth glistening stone, but now they were of great blocks of some gray substance which had a faintly unpleasant sheen as if coated with thin slime. Thran nodded toward them.

“We are entering the Ways. No one who has ever seen the handiwork of the Older Ones can mistake it.”

On and on went the ramp, growing ever steeper so that we were forced to break somewhat our headlong pace and keep a tight hold on the supporting rail. I was wondering apprehensively if it might not become too steep for our footing when it suddenly gave way to a deep trough-like path running almost level into the dense dark before us. As I stepped out upon that weird roadway I felt that those who had constructed that avenue for their own forgotten purposes were wholly alien to me and all warm-blooded creatures like me, so alien that I could not imagine their true forms and missions. What service had this road and the others like it rendered them? Why had it come to be?

The first few steps convinced me that it had never been intended for human feet to follow. For it possessed a
rounded raised center which made us slip and slide. In order to maintain our footing we were forced to slacken our pace to a mere crawling shuffle.

I can not tell for how many miles and how many hours we followed that straight, unbranching path. But thrice we stopped to nap and break out meals from the supplies we carried. There was nothing to see or hear, only the darkness, pierced for a few feet by the power of our lenses.

During fee third stop Thran brought out his fish-skin map and Analia trained the light from her belt upon it so feat he might trace out the way we had come and fee way we had yet to go.

“There is a sharp turn to the right and that is the path we must take. We must be almost upon it now.”

“Then let us go on to it,” said Zacat, rising to his feet. “So far there has been little in this snake hole to interest a fighting man. Where dwells the danger from which Kem-mec fled to fill his master’s ear wife wild tales?”

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