Land of Unreason (22 page)

            They gave; he sped through,
dodged scattered single leeches still floating up, and found himself over the
great plaza. A few foreshortened forms were visible below, one or two swimming
toward him, but for the most part it was empty. He slid across it, outdistancing
pursuit here in the open, feeling free at last—

            Until he saw the reason. All
up and down, the great wall was a solid mass of leeches. He dived toward the
base of the wall, where the gate was. They gave way before his rush. No gate;
the wall loomed smooth as a mirror, and around him on every side were the
leeches in a hemisphere, millions of them, blotting out the light with their
bodies and inching in. The surface, which might be an escape, and might not—how
far did this wall go?—was far away.

            Barber got his feet on the
ground and his back to the wall and cocked his fists for a last-ditch struggle.
Might possibly discourage them. The leeches inched in, their array thickening
as the radius of the sphere lessened. Their hands spread, when the pressure of
the wall against Barber's shoulder blades ceased.

            He took two steps, threw a
wild menacing punch, to drive the nearest back, and spun to face whatever
leeches were coming from behind.

            It was not leeches; or
rather, there were only two. Between them stood Arvicola, Sir Lacomar and
another knight, the last two clad from top to toe in armor.

-

            One of the newcomer leeches
said: "What's this? Most unseemly; just when we are bringing visitors to
admire—"

            This was as far as he got.
Sir Lacomar crossed his arms in front of him, fists down, and jerked them up,
whipping paired broadswords out of their sheaths. They hit the two leeches
simultaneously, the blades shearing deep into soft bodies. The other knight's
visor came down clang; with a long, lashing blade he disemboweled a venturesome
leech that dove at them from above.

            "Outside, you
two!" roared Lacomar. "We'll cover the bloody retreat!"

            But the gates beyond were
closed; and even as Barber and Arvicola turned to that inmost gate, it slid
smoothly into position behind them. The four were inside Hirudia and held
there.

            Pressure from the constantly
growing mass drove the nearest leeches, willy-nilly, in on the two knights. For
a few seconds they moved in a web of whirling steel before the tide surged back
amid squeals of panic fear. The water was murky with their blood and the small
clear space was littered with heads, legs, arms and entrails, while the crowd
above emitted a confused growling roar of mingled anger and terror.

            Lacomar glanced over his
shoulder. "What are you waiting for, froggy? Told you to push off."

            "The gate's
closed," said Barber.

            Lacomar gave a little leap,
and his point just caught a dangling knee. "Ha, Santiago! Open it, froggy."

            "Can't. Don't know
how."

            The other knight boomed
something that was lost in the recesses of his helmet, turned, and ran his
sword along the surface of the wall behind them, searching for the joint. It
gave the exquisite shriek of a pin dragged across a windowpane, but wall and gate
fitted solidly. He snapped up his visor. "The frog's right," he said.
"No way out."

            "Tell him to produce an
idea," said Lacomar, still facing out and up. "Frogs always have
ideas."

            "Not this one or this
time," said Barber grimly. Lacomar sidestepped like a dancer as one of the
leeches came sweeping in at knee level, and stabbed him through the guts. The
leech screamed. "That'll teach the blighter," remarked Lacomar, with
a barking laugh, "but what'll we do?"

            Arvicola said, with obvious
effort: "There is another way out. It—leads through His ..."

            "Good!" said
Lacomar. "Show us the way, old gal."

            "How about lending me
one of those swords?" asked Barber. Lacomar looked surprised, then
doubtful. "Be damned!" said the other knight. "A fighting frog!
Here, take my anlace." He fumbled at his belt and handed Barber an object
like a clove, all metal and about two feet long. It balanced well, and had
dangerous-looking spikes around the head.

            "Swim or walk?"
asked Barber.

            "Swim?" boomed the
stranger-knight. "Not in this hardware." And Lacomar gave a dry
chuckle. "Told you frogs always have ideas—usually wrong 'uns."

            They set out, Lacomar
leading with his two-sword sweep, Barber and the other knotting around
Arvicola. At the third step the leeches burst into a frantic gabble of shouts
and squeals: "Give up?"

            "Come with us—you'll be
treated kindly."

            "You've put up enough
resistance to make your showing—it will be all right, we understand good
fighters." They gave no answer, and after a minute or two of talking
themselves into a fury, the creatures charged again.

            Barber was the center of a
circle of clutching arms and biting mouths, laying about him furiously. Once
Arvicola screamed and clung to his left arm; he executed a difficult pirouette
with a leech clinging to his legs, and drove the anlace, once and repeat, into
the faces of the pair who had her by the shoulders. They collapsed, floating
away upward, but another dived in from behind to catch him by the throat and
carry him to his knees. Here we go, he thought, but a voice bellowed something
like "Tambo!" and the pressure was released. He scrambled to his
feet, head swimming, to see the stranger-knight standing over him, and shouted.
Then the fight was ended for the moment, with fragments of leech bodies
drifting dejectedly past through the water.

            Sir Lacomar's face bore a
look of intense and even joyous concentration, but the stranger was looking at
him oddly. "Aye, if we only had them," he said.

            "Had what?" asked
Barber.

            "The Franconian spears;
you shouted for them."

            With a shock of recall,
Barber realized he had said something of the kind, but before he could analyze
it, Lacomar plucked at his arm.

            "Look sharp now,"
he said, "before they get over that last bout. Which way, Cola?"

            The girl pointed, and they
ducked through the row of pillars around the plaza, with the leeches forming a
hemisphere of foes around them. Ahead was a flight of long and wide steps that
might be the entrance to an impressive building had it not been hidden by the
moving swarm of leeches. Sir Lacomar led the way up, Arvicola touching him on
the shoulder now and then to indicate a change of direction.

            The illumination dimmed
suddenly, and Barber, looking up, could see no more leeches right above. It was
too high and dark within for any ceiling to be visible. Behind them, too, it
was dark now, the entrance by which they had come packed with the swarming
leeches, who remained behind an invisible line.

            Something went Bong once
with the same deliberate and decisive note that had heralded the first attack
on Barber. There was a rumble; some kind of gate or movable wall slid to and
cut off all sight of their pursuers. Now it was almost utterly dark, with the
only light a faint bluish glow, whose source was high on a pair of cyclopean
pillars. The source moved so that the light changed and threw curious shadows
across their faces. "Ha!" barked the stranger-knight. "We'll
make a night affair of it. Good thing there are few of us. Get in one another's
way." His sword made a soughing sound as he whipped it around his head,
but Lacomar said: "No, bad tactics, Acravis; dark for the attack but light
for the approach," and signed to Arvicola.

            She detached herself from
the group and dived smoothly upward to one of the light-sources. Barber saw her
fumble briefly; then light and vole together darted across to the other pillar,
and in a moment she was back with a blue-glowing something in either hand.

            "Take this," she
said, and handed him something that squirmed so he almost dropped it. When he
gripped hard its radiance brightened angrily and he could make it out as a sort
of superworm, the size of a frankfurter.

            "Hold it gently,
Fred-froggy," she whispered, "but tight enough so it doesn't get
away." She shivered with obvious nervousness.

            Sir Lacomar swept out a
powerful arm and drew their heads together. "You first, Acravis," he
counseled, "then Cola, Barber, and I'll bring up the rear. Can get a
better cut that way. Heavy metal in reserve."

            Barber asked the question
that had been worrying him: "How did you two happen in at the right
moment?"

            Arvicola turned and touched
his arm. "I—was afraid for you, so asked Sir Lacomar ... You're such a
bloody fool, Fred."

            "If we get out of
this—" began Barber, and then stopped. He had intended promising to do
anything she wanted, but what could a strictly temporary frog do for a water
rat? If he was a temporary frog.

            "Look here,"
Lacomar's voice rang out, suddenly loud, behind him. "Why were you afraid,
my gal? This leech-Boss isn't—His Nibs, is he?"

            The girl turned a stricken
face. "Yes. Quiet. If he hears us, we die."

            Acravis stumbled with a
clank of metal and cursed in a low voice. Cola reached her light past him, and
Barber caught a glimpse of a huge helical staircase, going down, down.
"Let your light dim," she murmured, gripping his fingers and pulling
them back gently. The worm lay quiescent; in the pale glow he could only just
see the back of the girl's head before him, only just hear Lacomar coming
behind, moving with surprising noiselessness for all his armored bulk.

            Stairs. Barber had to feel
with his toes for the edge of each next step. If it were not there, he would go
tumbling ... no, wait, underwater he did not have to fear falling whatever else
betide. But something might swoop from above—and what good were all their
precautions, since that entrance door had slid shut behind them? It was proof
positive that whoever ruled this grim place knew of their presence ...

            The girl reached back and
touched his arm again, so unseen that it made him start. Her other hand, with
the worm, was pointing forward, just over Acravis' shoulder, the faint glow
reflecting from the side of his helmet. Barber noted that the knight no longer
stood a level below, and sure enough, at the next step, he found the stair
ended. They were in a passage. Cola kept one hand on his with the lightest of
touches, the other guiding Acravis, and Barber, by reaching back, could just
link with Sir Lacomar in the same fashion. There was a faint, dulled clink of
armor, echoed by another from the knight ahead. Then he stopped.

            The girl whirled round,
soundless and so suddenly that Barber was almost overbalanced, her lips against
his cheek. "Won't hurt you for once, old thing," she breathed
voicelessly. "We may—never—again—" and her lips sought his and clung
to them for a brief, thrilling, perilous moment. There was a snorting chuckle
from Lacomar behind, no louder than a snore.

            Ahead, the wall was a big
and solid door which moved noiselessly at Cola's light push. No light inside.
The floor, soft and squeezy between Barber's toes, was obscenely like walking
on something's huge tongue.

            One step—two, three, four,
five, six, and he lost count. Had something moved in the blackness ahead?
No—yes; Acravis apparently caught it too, for he stumbled slightly, pulled back
and bumped the girl, sent her caroming into Barber's left arm and shoulder. The
sausagelike light worm was almost knocked from his grasp; he recovered it with
a violent effort and gripped the thing hard. Its light pealed forth in that
black place like the sudden blare of a pipe organ.