Part 6 (1/2)
Ermenwyr came to the city and his father's errands took little time. The temple porter was easily bribed, the worthless stock soon sold to the eager merchant, and the spy had his report neatly written out and ready with a visual presentation. n.o.body was sufficiently offended by his presence to challenge him to any duels. Ermenwyr enjoyed a leisurely evening at the theatre and breakfast on a sunlit terrace the next morning, before making his return.
And at sunset on Winter's Eve he waited in the forest, watching the gates of the House of the Aronikai. Presently he saw Desolation Rose creeping out, looking about her as the field mouse watches for the owl; she hurried away into the darkness. Ermenwyr tore down a piece of the sky-a corner, with no stars-for a cloak of invisibility, and went after her.
She walked a long way, up into high cold hills, gathering dry sticks as she went. In a bare open place she stopped. He watched from behind a standing stone as she made her small fire, and settled down by its meager warmth to wait.
Ermenwyr let her sit there until the stars had drifted far overhead and the mists were rising. (He was always scrupulous as to timing and effect.) Then he summoned his powers to him. Out of the night mist he conjured the illusion she expected to see: a towering figure of mysterious gloom. Then he walked out, just beyond the circle of firelight.
Desolation Rose looked up from where she crouched, s.h.i.+vering. Her eves were wide. Motionless, like a small trapped thing, she watched his slow approach. He stood at last on the other side of the fire.
Wordless. Waiting.
She drew all her strength into her heart, but couldn't make a sound. She knelt to him and her heart spoke instead, trusting that the G.o.d would know her prayer.
Ermenwyr smiled in his beard and kept his silence, as any G.o.d does. He came forward, and indicated to the girl that she should pleasure him.
So he lay with Desolation Rose, pa.s.sing himself off as a G.o.d, and a very creditable job he did of it.
Faint with terror and delight, she held him all night long.
When gray morning came she lay asleep; but Ermenwyr got up and made his departure, having had what he'd wanted. Beside the fire he left a bag with more gold, reasoning it would do her more good than revenge on her enemies, which he couldn't give her anyway. Still, for dramatic effect, he wrote the G.o.d's name in the ashes of her fire.
All lighthearted Ermenwyr went his way, and journeyed until under smirking stars he returned to his dread father's house. There he went straight to his apartments, flung himself into bed, and slept the sleep of the just.
He woke greatly refreshed, in broad morning. He bathed and dressed himself with more than usual care, for he was to make a report to his father on his affairs among the Children of the Sun. Then Ermenwyr went to his long mirror to comb his beard and preen a little.
He looked once-What? He rubbed his eyes, peered in the gla.s.s, and let out a cry of horror.
Instead of the small dapper sorcerer he was so fond of looking at, there in the mirror was reflected a looming darkness with eyes. Distant lightnings crackled in its heart.
Now Ermenwyr was terrified. He looked down at himself but could see nothing different. He looked back in the mirror and there It was still. He ran to his dresser and found a hand mirror to peruse: there It was with Its cloudy head. He ran to his washbasin and looked in at his reflection: even vet It looked out at him with Its hollow eves. He found a crystal ball and glanced at its surface: it roiled and boiled so with the phantom image that he thrust it hastily into a sock drawer.
Ermenwyr's heart hammered. In every reflective surface in the room clouds s.h.i.+fted; stars burned there.
Cautiously he opened his door. He stepped out in the corridor; looked this way, looked that way.
His father's guards were posted down at one end, and they saluted him as they were wont to do.
He went up to them and said, with a terrible effort at calm: ”Do I look different today? Is there anything a little, well, unusual about my appearance?”
One of them was a big scaly reptilian fellow with fanged jaws that did not permit light conversation; nonetheless, he rumbled and shook his head No. The other guard blinked his small red eves thoughtfully, and said: ”You've trimmed your beard, my lord?”
”Thank you,” said Ermenwyr, ”I just wondered if anyone would notice. Where is my father?”
The guards bowed deeply and the one said, ”Your lord father is in the exercise yard, sir.”
Ermenwyr set off at a run.
He found Shadlek his father armed, raining blows on his practice opponent. Ermenwyr waited on the sidelines, fidgeting, until the bout was concluded. As Shadlek stood back and removed his helmet, Ermenwyr hurried up to him.
”Um.... Father?”
The Master of the Mountain looked down at his son, and knit his black brows in a frown.
”What have you done, Ermenwyr?” he said in a voice like thunder.
Ermenwyr cried out in relief and fear.
”You see it too? Oh, Father, what is it?”
Shadlek scowled and made a few pa.s.ses in the air with his gauntleted hand.
”It will not leave you. Did you steal something?”
”Only what you told me to!”
”Did you trespa.s.s in some sacred place?”
”Only where you bid me to!”
”Did you summon powers greater than your own?”
”No!”
”Then what crime did you commit other than the necessary crimes I sent you to commit?” said his father. ”Tell me the truth, boy.”
Shamefacedly Ermenwyr told his father about Desolation Rose, as they walked up and down the length of the exercise yard. Shadlek nodded thoughtfully.
”I did something like that once,” he reminisced. ”A wealthy man died and his wife went mad for grief.
She had his heart placed in a gold reliquary covered with red sapphires, very fine. She went out lamenting, to wander the world with it.
”Hearing of the sapphires, I went down in search of her. I found her inching along a road, barefoot and ragged, weeping for her love.
”I put a glamour on myself and appeared as her dead husband's ghost; persuaded her I could not rest until my heart, and its handsomely decorated container, was returned to me. She complied, with many touching avowals of eternal pa.s.sion. I sent her safely home.”
Ermenwyr was curious despite himself. ”What did you do then?”
”Burned the dead heart and kept the reliquary, of course. It's around here somewhere, I saw it only the other day...”
”Mother must have been angry with you,” said Ermenwyr.
”Not at all,” replied the sorcerer lord. ”Consider, my son: the man's true heart dwelt in the bosom of the lady, beyond theft. It was not that lump of carrion, nor its house of gold. By relieving her of that macabre ornament I spared her the danger of carrying such a thing. She might have met with thieves, after all! So, no, your mother was not angry with me.
”But she'll certainly be angry with you. You did a stupid thing, boy: you impersonated a G.o.d, on the one night and in the one place it would be truly imprudent to do so. I thought I had trained you better!”
Ermenwyr said hastily: ”Yes, sir, but surely the thing now is to relieve me of this condition with all possible speed. What's to be done?”
His father grinned down at him and dusted his hands.