The Tritonian Ring and Other Pasudian Tales (41 page)

             
It took Vakar a few seconds to gather his wits after this shattering news. Finally he said:

             
"That's illegal and unconstitutional, and you know it. Even if it's true, which I have only your worthless word
for,
the king may not change the succession without the Council's approval."

             
"Well, I'm king in any case, with several thousand soldiers to make it stick. What are you going to do about it?"

             
"Murderer!
Traitor! Usurper!" screamed Vakar, foaming in his rage. "You slew
Söl
the spy when he'd have revealed how you'd sold Lorsk to the Gorgon king! You tried to destroy your own army at Kort by fleeing as the battle started, and now you've seized the throne after no doubt hurrying our poor father into his next incarnation by smothering him with a pillow! Come out here with your sword, now, and we'll settle the succession man to man!"

             
"Do I look stupid?" replied Kuros. "Here!"

             
As he spoke, Kuros snatched a bow from a man beside him, nocked an arrow, and let fly. Vakar ducked as the missile whizzed past, missing him by inches and piercing the foot of one of the spectators, who yelped. The stragglers scattered in all directions, the wounded man limping after them with the arrow in his foot. As Kuros reached for another arrow, Vakar cracked his whip, wheeled the chariot around, and drove back out of range, snarling:

             
"I'll back-track and pick up the rest of the army! I'll take Mneset by storm and hang that traitor from the gate-towers until he rots
...
"

             
Ryn shook his head, clawing at his goatish beard. "That would be hard on the city, no matter who won."

             
Vakar leaned against the side of the chariot, staring somberly into space. The stragglers stood about in little clumps, looking from Vakar to Kuros, who stood on the wall with his second arrow nocked but not drawn, waiting to see what Vakar would do. Ryn added softly:

             
"And is that what you really want? Think now."

             
Vakar straightened up with a laugh. "Now I see what Charsela was driving at! And I also know what Rethilio meant when he said I should have to make a choice of destinies; I couldn't encompass them all in one lifetime. Why should I fight that oaf for a drafty old cas
tl
e and the right to boss a mob of yokels when I have a much pleasanter berth awaiting me in Ogugia?"

             
"Why indeed?"

             
"I'm no conqueror, but a quiet fellow who asks only to be let alone to acquire true scholarship. Say farewell to Bili for me and lend me some trade-metal. I'm for Sederado!"

             
Vakar filled his scrip and, his legs now healed, vaulted on to Kalesh's horse. He raised his voice to the stragglers and the men on the wall:

             
"You have all seen and heard what has happened here. If you wonder why I'm not pressing the fight against my brother, 'tis for two reasons: first, I'm not so avid of the duties of kingship as he seems to be, and second, our land has suffered enough of late without plunging it into civil war. I'm going into exile, without renouncing any claim to the throne. If at some future date you tire of the rule of a murderer and traitor
...
Well, we'll let that take care of
itself
when the time comes. Farewell!"

             
Vakar waved, threw an ironical salute to Kuros, and galloped off toward Lez
ô
tr, singing:

"Vrir the Victorious
             
             
rode to the river,

His scabbard of silver
             
             
shining in sunlight ..."

-

             
The gods, gathered in their place of assembly, all yammered at Drax: "Fool! Why told you us not that the
center of this malign influence would shift to Tartaros, Vakar Lorska being but one minor
link
in the chain of causation ..."

             
Drax writhed uncomfortably. "Pray
be
patient, divinities. I gave you all that my science had revealed to me. Perhaps all is not yet lost. By speeding the sinking of the western regions we can submerge not only Poseidonis but Tartaros as well."

             
"What matters it," said Lyr, "whether we perish by the spread of the star-metal or by the extermination of our worshippers? Why could you not leave well enough alone? If we had not caused Entigta to stir up his Gorgons, the Tahakh would still be a mere lump of meteoric iron, a harmless curiosity in the hands of Awoqqas of Belem."

             
"No doubt all this was fated from the beginning," said Okma.

             
This started a furious argument over free-will versus predestination, in the course of which Asterio, the bull-headed forest-god of Ogugia, pulled Entigta's tentacles cruelly.

             
But Vakar of Lorsk rode happily towards
Amferé
to take the last ship of the season for Sederado.

The End

* * * * * * *

"SEND PRINCE VAKAR TO SEEK

THE THING THE GODS FEAR MOST."

             
The witch's advice would be more useful, Vakar feels
,
if she would tell him what the "thing" is. But he must go, if he is to save his country from destruction at the hands of the Gorgons.

             
Armed only with his sword and the poisoned dagger he draws from the body of a spy killed trying to pass vital information to him, Vakar sets forth across Poseidonis, the sinking continent. Confronted with death at every turn, dazzled by the sorcery of hostile magicians, Vakar finds his true enemies are the ancient gods themselves—against whom he will have no weapon until he discovers

THE TRITONIAN RING

L. Sprague de Camp

The

Tritonian

Ring

PAPERBACK LIBRARY

A KINNEY SERVICE COMPANY

NEW YORK

PAPERBACK LIBRARY EDITION

First Printing: January, 1968

Grateful acknowledgment is made to Fiction House, Inc., of Stamford, Conn., for permission to quote from "The Tritonian Ring," in
Two Complete Science Adventure Books
for
Winter
, 1951.

Copyright, 1953, by L. Sprague de Camp

Paperback Library is a division of Coronet Communications, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words "Paperback Library" accompanied by an open book, is registered in the United States Patent Office.
Coronet Communications, Inc., 315 Park Avenue South, New York, N.Y. 10010.

TO FRITZ LEIBER

* * * * * * *

Back cover

Prince Vakar battles

the
savage prehistoric gods

in
his dangerous quest for

The Tritonian Ring

Night falls on the bronze-age world of Poseidonis, a continent threatened with destruction.

In the smoke of the magician's fire appears the figure of the witch Gra. "What wish the lords of Lorsk with me?"

"Advise us how to avert the menace of the Gorgons," the magician answers.

"Send Prince Vakar to seek the thing the gods fear most!"

-