The Last Banquet (Bell Mountain) (33 page)

Reesh gazed hungrily at the little piece of rust. “Mankind shall rise again!” he said. “Greatness, greatness—the progress of long ages, in just a single lifetime! For all my days I’ve dreamed of it!”

“But you,” said the Thunder King, “must be the teacher of mankind. You must teach men how to believe in their god. How will you do that, who never believed in any god and don’t believe in me?

“You taught the people of Obann to believe in God, but you did not believe in Him. You were really teaching them to believe in the Temple, weren’t you?”

“It was for the best, my lord.”

The Thunder King gently laid the artifact on the table, beside his golden mask. He leaned forward in his chair, lowering his voice.

“What you did was wise,” he said. “Wrong, but wise. But I’ll make you another promise, Lord Reesh.

“When I have conquered Obann and made captive the God of Obann, I’ll allow you to speak with Him. Yes, just like you’re speaking with me—and then you’ll know that He was real all along. Then you’ll believe in me, and your teaching will be much the better for it.”

This was heaping blasphemy on top of blasphemy. Not so long ago, Reesh would have punished anyone who said such things. But now he could only think of what treasures of the ancient world might have been uncovered by the Thunder King. A man who owned such treasures, he thought, would be just like a god.

“You will believe in me,” said the Thunder King, smiling, “and sooner than you think.”

They knew Ellayne and Chillith intended to go up the mountain, which was good, because with Wytt leading them, they left no trail for Jack and Martis to follow.

“They’ll be lucky if they can get across the plain and reach the foothills,” Martis said. It was the morning of their second day out from camp, and they had arrived at the northeast corner of King Oziah’s Wood. “There are still Heathen out there: they haven’t all gone south.”

“Chillith doesn’t mind if he gets caught, as long as they take him to the Thunder King,” Jack said.

Looking outward from the trees, the plain was a white expanse of snow. You could just make out the forested hills in the east, under a low bank of dark grey clouds. Above the clouds, seeming to float on them, rose the mountains.

If they’d been on the southern fringe of the woods, they would have known from prisoners that the Thunder King had come out from the East and was now in his castle in the Golden Pass. But Jack and Martis hadn’t heard this news.

“The question is, which way up the mountains would they go?” said Martis. “If Chillith really wants to be captured, he couldn’t do better than to follow that new road they’ve built. They’d have to cross the Chariot to get there.”

“It’d be funny if we got caught and they didn’t!” Jack said. “We don’t have Wytt to scout for us, and they do. I guess Ellayne never thought of that.” He started to give her a good tongue-lashing, but Martis wouldn’t let him finish.

“If we run into any Wallekki riders, I can probably talk us past them,” Martis said.

“I wish you hadn’t left Dulayl behind! And poor old Ham.”

“A man and a boy can hide better than a man, a boy, a horse, and a donkey. Just remember that if we do meet any Wallekki, you’re my servant and you don’t understand their language.”

“I don’t see how anybody understands it,” Jack said.

Ellayne and Chillith had already crossed the plain and were in the woods around the headwaters of the Chariot. The snow on the plain was crisscrossed with the tracks of men and horses. Wytt hurried them across as fast as they could go. It took all day, but they saw no one else. Ellayne could hardly believe it.

“We’ll meet people on the road, once we find it,” Chillith said. “And then you must leave me, if you can. There is no need for you to go to the Thunder King.”

“Aren’t you afraid, Chillith?”

“I am afraid of your God, who took away my sight so that He could give me understanding,” he answered. “I’ve felt His power. I don’t want to feel it again! What He calls me to do, I will do.”

Their plan was for Wytt to go on a short distance ahead, to sniff out any danger and to warn them. If you looked at the tracks he made in the snow, they looked just like human footprints, only tinier than a baby’s. Ellayne hoped the Heathen wouldn’t be looking at tracks too closely.

“Are there Omah in these woods, Wytt?” she asked.

He chirped. Yes, a few—not many. The little hairy men didn’t live in the mountains. They preferred the forest and the plain; and most of all, the ruins of ancient cities.

The next day Wytt led them across the Chariot, which at that place was frozen. They’d learned how cold it was at night, up here on the skirts of the mountains; and it didn’t get much warmer by day. Wytt found places where they could huddle together, buried under fallen leaves and the blanket Chillith brought. Ellayne was cold all the time. “I’m going to get sick,” she thought. But she didn’t mention it; Chillith would only say she’d better turn back. She had a wolfskin wrap the rangers had given her—better than nothing, but not good enough.

The day after crossing the Chariot, they struck the road.

“Here it is—the road up the mountain,” Ellayne said. They hadn’t yet emerged from the woods. At the moment the road was deserted, but riders could come along at any minute.

“Here is what we ought to do,” Chillith said. “As soon as someone comes who’s going up, I’ll ask to be taken to the Thunder King. I was a mardar; I know what words to say. But here we part, little maiden. The little hairy man will lead you back to safety.”

“But you’ll be all alone!”

“I’ll be safe. No one will know I’m not a mardar anymore.”

“You can tell them I’m your servant.”

“I will not,” said Chillith. “Where I’m going is no place for you.”

Ellayne felt tears spring to her eyes. Who would have thought it possible? There was something about this blinded Heathen that she’d grown to love. And he was going to defy the Thunder King! She couldn’t bear to think on what would happen to him then—and couldn’t stop thinking about it, either.

He felt for her shoulder, found it, and embraced her gently. She did cry then, out loud, and didn’t even spare a thought for what Jack would say if he could see her.

“It’ll be all right,” Chillith said. “We each have to do what God commands us.”

“But I believe in you!” Ellayne said. “I hated you at first—and yes, I was glad when God made you blind; I thought it served you right. But I don’t think so anymore! I don’t want to let you go. At least let me lead you up the road until we meet someone. Anyhow, I’ll just follow you if you don’t!”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Chillith patted her head. “Let it be as you like, then. For just a little while longer.”

They came out of the woods. Ellayne took Chillith’s hand and began to lead him up the road. Wytt stayed hidden among the trees, but Ellayne knew he was nearby. But neither she nor Chillith knew that farther up the mountain it was snowing so heavily that hardly anyone tried to travel. The road stretched on ahead of them, empty. If Ellayne had paid more attention to the look of the sky, she might have guessed why.

Keeping Chillith on his feet took up most of her attention. There were ruts and icy patches everywhere. Finally they stopped so she could cut him a staff from a sapling. He said she might as well keep his knife. She’d just finished trimming the staff when Wytt came back, chittering.

“There’s a cart coming,” Ellayne said.

“Help me up, and I’ll meet it. Hide yourself.”

She had to obey. She ducked into the underbrush beside the road. Wytt huddled close to her, and Chillith used his staff to feel his way out onto the road. There he stood and waited, and moments later Ellayne heard the creaking of a wagon. Snow muffled any sound the horse’s hooves might have made.

There were two men in the wagon, bundled up in furs. They yelled at Chillith in a foreign language, but he wouldn’t get out of their way. He held up his staff and yelled back, and they stopped the cart. The two men got out and bowed to him. They spoke back and forth for a few minutes. Then Chillith made a certain gesture with his hand; the men climbed back into the cart and continued their journey down the mountain. Ellayne waited until she couldn’t hear the cart anymore, then ran out to Chillith.

“What did they say?” she asked.

His face was stern. He didn’t answer right away.

“My journey will be shorter than I expected,” he said. “The Thunder King is at the top of the mountain at the end of this road. He has built a castle there.”

Suddenly the top of the mountain seemed ominously close, although Ellayne couldn’t see it for the clouds and trees.

“It’s not very far to go, is it?” she said. “Did you tell those men you’re a mardar?”

“I know the words of command. I spoke them. Had I commanded them to turn their cart around and take me up the mountain, they would have done it.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because they were afraid,” he said.

Ryons and his army were a few days out of Obann City, marching eastward within sight of the great river (“That it might anchor our flank, should the need arise,” General Hennen said), when they met a small company of archers waiting for them on the way. So far, the Heathen remnants in the country had avoided them; so they saw no menace in a few archers. But as they drew nearer, Obst cried out, “I know those men! They’re from Lintum Forest. They were outlaws until Helki conquered them, and they swore allegiance to him. What are they doing here?”

“I think I know!” said Ryons, and he spurred his horse forward.

Just the mention of Lintum Forest raised his spirits. But he remembered that some weeks ago, he’d sent messengers to bring Jandra to Obann. It was her prophecy that had first proclaimed him king.

His Ghols rode with him. So did Gurun, who very seldom left his side. His troops made way for them. Obst dismounted and followed on foot. He was never comfortable on horseback.

The archers opened their ranks, and there Ryons saw Abgayle, holding Jandra’s hand; and nestled in Jandra’s other arm was that horrible bird of hers, with teeth in its beak and dirty purple plumage. The little girl, with her big blue eyes and her long fair hair, hadn’t changed at all, thought Ryons—although it seemed years since he’d last seen her and not just months. The fierce warriors in his army fell silent at the sight of her: for they remembered her as a prophet.

Gurun had heard of Jandra and knew who she was. But she was such a little thing! Three years old, no more—and who ever heard of a toddling prophet?

The hideous bird squirmed loose from Jandra’s embrace and flapped to the ground. Its feathers clanked like mail. It let out a harsh shriek that could be heard all over the plain.

And then out of the little girl’s mouth issued a voice—a grown-up voice, almost as deep as a man’s—that seemed to Gurun that men would be able to hear all the way back in Obann.

“Hail, King Ryons! Hail, Queen Gurun! The Lord is with you.

“For I the Lord have heard the bell of my servant King Ozias, and the prayers of all my saints in secret places: and you my servants shall go forth, and no enemy shall hurt you. And my Spirit shall go forth among the nations; no more shall it be fettered; and all men shall know me. My standard shall be raised among the Heathen, wherever men walk upon the earth which I have made; and all the tribes of men shall seek me.”

Those words seemed to beat against the sky and fill it. Gurun shivered under her fur cloak. “It is Scripture that has not been written down,” she thought. The sound of those words didn’t fade away; rather, it was absorbed into the earth and into the hearts of them that heard it.

Then the little girl wrinkled up her face and wept.

She cried as if her heart would break. The woman who was her guardian, Abgayle, tried to comfort her but couldn’t make her stop. The bird stood beside her and hissed at everyone. Finally the captain of the Ghols, old Chagadai, sprang lightly from his horse and picked up Jandra in his arms. He crooned something to her in the outlandish Gholish language, and in a few moments she stopped crying and fell asleep. He rocked her gently for a minute, than handed her to Abgayle. Ryons looked on in amazement.