Ethutur bowed his head. But he did not touch the sword, leaving it point-planted where it was. Back they took us through the plume wood and into the boat, drawing us to another island. Here was vegetation, but that of normal growth. There was a paved space of rock slabs and a hollow for a fire, with a pile of drift nearby. Ethutur and I brought out our supplies and ate. Afterward I wandered back to the shore and stared across at that silvery island. But the haze which might be born of some wizardry blurred its details. I believed I saw Krogan come out of the lake and return into it. But no one came near our island, or, if they did, we were not aware of it.
Ethutur would make no guess as to how Orias’ council would decide. Several times he remarked that the Krogan were a law unto themselves, and, as Dinzil had warned, could not be influenced by outsiders. When he mentioned Dinzil my forebodings, which I had managed to push into the back of my mind, awoke. Deliberately I set about learning what I could concerning the war leader from the Heights.
He was of the Old Race, truly human as far as the Green People knew. His reputation in the field was firmly established. It seemed that he controlled powers of his own, having had for tutor in his childhood one of the few remaining wonder workers who had set a limit on his own studies and used what he learned for the preservation of the small portion of Escore into which he had fled. So high was Dinzil in Ethutur’s respect that I did not venture to mention my own doubts; for what was feeling against such proofs?
There came no signal from the other isle. We ate again and rolled in our blankets for sleep. But with sleep there came to me such a dream of evil as brought me sitting up, cold and shivering, wet drops running down my cheeks to drip from my chin. I had had such a dream before Kaththea had been rift from us—so had I awakened then, unable to remember what I had dreamed, yet knowing it to be evil indeed.
I could not sleep again, nor could I disturb Ethutur with my restlessness. What I wanted most of all was to leave this island, strike out for the Valley to see for myself that no ill had chanced to those two who were the other parts of me. Greatly daring, I stole away from the campsite and went down to the shore, facing as I hoped in the direction of the Valley—though in this place I could not truly be sure of north, south, east or west.
Then I put my head in my hands, and I sent forth the call. For I must know. When there was no answer, I put to the full strength of my will and sent again.
Faint, very faint, came the answer. Kaththea . . . alarmed for me. Quickly I let her know that the danger was not mine, but that I feared for her or Kyllan. Then she replied that all was safe, that it must be some evil in the land between us. But she urged to cut the bond, lest it be seized upon by an ill force and used to seek me out. So sharp was she I did as she bade. But I was not satisfied; it was as if, though she reported all aright, it would not be so for long.
“Who are you, to call upon the spirit of another?”
I was so startled by that query out of the night that my sword flashed in the moonlight even as I turned. Then I dropped it, point to the ground, and watched her come into the open, her webbed feet noiseless on the sand. The waters of the lake had made her garment like unto a second skin, and she seemed very small and frail, her pallor a part of the moonlight. She brushed back wet strands of hair and tightened the shell band which held it out of her eyes.
“Why do you call?” As Orias’, her voice lacked timbre, was soft and monotonous.
Though I am not one who naturally tells all to strangers, yet at that moment I spoke the truth.
“I dreamed evilly, as I have beforetimes in warning. I sought those I had reason to be concerned about, my sister and brother.”
“I am Orsya, and you?” She did not comment upon my words; it was as if she needed at once some identification.
“Kemoc—Kemoc Tregarth out of Estcarp,” I told her.
“Kemoc,” she repeated. “Ah, yes, you are one of the outlanders who have come to make trouble . . .”
“We did not come to make it,” I corrected her. Somehow it was necessary to assure her of that. “We were fleeing trouble of our own, and we came over the mountains, not knowing what lay here. We meant no more than to find a refuge.”
“Yet you have wrought disturbances.” She picked up a pebble and tossed it into the lake. It splashed and ripples sped across the surface. “You have done things which could awake old evils. You would draw in the Krogan.”
“Not I alone,” I protested. “We shall stand together, all of us!”
“I do not think that Orias and the others will agree. No.” She shook her head. Her hair, which seemed to dry very quickly in the open air, fanned out in a silver net about her. “You have had your journey here for naught, outlander.”
Then she took a step, a leap, and the water closed about her.
But she had the right of it. When we were ferried back to the plumed island in the morning the warn-sword was as Ethutur had planted it, untouched, bearing no added cords of agreement. Nor was Orias there. We faced an empty throne and the feeling that it was better for us to be gone from territory where we were not wanted.
* * *
* * *
III
“WHAT DO WE NOW?” I asked when the silent Krogan had brought us back to the swamp shore and were gone again into the lake before we could voice any farewell.
“Naught,” Ethutur replied. “They have decided to remain neutral. I fear they will not find that so easy.” He spoke absently and I saw that he watched the hills about us with a scout’s eye.
I followed his gaze. There was nothing to see, or was there? The sun shown as it had the morning before, and the country appeared empty. Then I saw a black speck wing across the sky and behind it another.
“Mount!” Ethutur’s voice was urgent. “The Rus fly. Indeed there must be a beating of the borders now!”
Shapurn and Shil, who trotted under my weight, picked a careful way along that nearly dry stream bed. But they were swifter than in their coming. I drew a deep breath. The corrupt miasma of the swamp still clung. I glanced at my boots to see if the slime spotted them, though we had wiped ourselves with withered grass.
No such traces on me, yet that breath of rottenness grew stronger as we rode. I watched the rises which fenced this water way. A man who has gone often to war, such as we knew along the border, develops senses of warning. The sun was hot and strong, yet a shadow stretched to touch us. I set my helm on my head in spite of the heat, threw the ends of its mail scarf about my throat. Also I loosened the sword which was a weight against my thigh.
Ever it seemed to me that that stench grew stronger, brought to us with every small puff of wind which found its way into that narrow ravine. No longer did Ethutur carry the warn-sword before him. Rather it was fastened to his belt, since his mission as envoy was done; he freed the stock of his force whip, holding it ready in his hand. It was as if an enemy massed unseen upon the heights above us.
Yet there was nothing we could see: Only the smell and the warning within us. I marveled at the speed with which the Renthan bore us through that place which was a natural trap. Yet one part of my mind wondered why the trap was not sprung. The enemy were throwing away an advantage they might not find so easily again.
“Why?”
I saw Ethutur’s lips fold tight and then he answered my unfinished question:
“Those who watch have not the strength to pull us down. But the Rus fly for reinforcements. If we can reach the open plain—”
We did that, coming to where the grass rippled grain-ripe and tall. But the plains were not empty. I saw those who gathered to dispute our passage. Some were old enemies I had fronted before. There were those unholy mixtures of men and beast who raised brindled, wolfish muzzles to catch our scent and had pricked ears to hear. About them the grass moved and I thought of the Rasti which could be in hiding there. Ethutur cracked his force whip, and the fire of its strike upon the earth was a flash bright enough to be seen even in the sunlight, leaving smoldering stubble behind.