the wet ground to watch.
Elthek had not yet put in an appearance, and the Cultists, all
dressed in bearskins, were gathered about the fire drinking strong
ale and singing – badly – old Alorn folk-songs. One of the soldiers
Kanion had out in the woods came crawling up to join us. He was
a stocky man with a no-nonsense kind of face. ‘What are your orders,
Lord Brand?’ he whispered.
‘Tell your men to stay out of sight, Sergeant,’ Kamion instructed.
Did those people around the fire leave any sentries out there in the
forest?’
‘NO, my Lord Warder. As soon as the first ale-barrel was broached,
they all came in out of the woods.’ The soldier coughed in a slightly
embarrassed way. ‘Ah – Lord Brand?’
‘Yes, Sergeant?’
‘I know it isn’t proper for me to take any kind of action without
orders, but something came up, and I had to deal with it on my
own.’
‘Oh?’
‘When those people around the fire started coming up the gorge,
it was fairly obvious that they were members of the Bear-Cult. Some
of my men have sympathies in that direction, so I had to take steps.
Nobody got hurt,’ he added hastily, ‘at least not too badly. I’ve got
those men chained to trees a couple of miles up the gorge, and their
mouths are stuffed full of old boot socks to keep them from shouting
out warnings. Is it all right that I did that, my Lord?’
‘Perfectly all right, Captain.’
‘Ah – I’m only a sergeant, my Lord.’
‘Not any more, you aren’t. What’s your name, Captain?’
‘Torgun, my Lord.’
‘All right then, Captain Torgun. Go back to your men and spread
them out so that you’ve got every possible escape route covered.’
Kamion lifted a curved hunting horn. ‘When you hear me blow on
this, order your men to charge. I want everyone wearing a bear-skin
clapped in chains.’
‘They’ll probably try to fight, my Lord. Do I have permission to
use force?’
‘Do whatever it takes, Captain Torgun.’
The newly promoted soldier’s answering grin was one of the most
evil I’ve ever seen. ‘Try not to kill too many of them, Captain,’ I
added – just as a precaution, you understand.
The look of innocence he gave me was so transparent that I almost
burst out laughing. ‘Of course not, Lady Polgara. I wouldn’t dream
of it.’ Then he slithered away.
‘Good move there, Kamion,’ Earl jarok whispered hoarsely. ‘Field
promotions are one of the best ways to get good officers. That fellow
would follow you into fire right now.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, my Lord. Being wet’s
bad enough.’ .
The party around the bonfire was getting rowdier as the ale flowed
freely. The Cultists were all shuffling around the fire, tankards in
hand, trying to imitate the shambling walk of their totem.
Elthek came up the gorge and trailing along behind him were
of the priests of Belar on the Isle of the Winds.
KarniOrl
‘We’re going to decimate the priesthood, I’m afraid,
whispered to Anrak and me.
‘It won’t be hard to find replacements, Kamion,’ Anrak assured
him. ‘The priestly life’s fairly comfortable, and it doesn’t involve
much sweating.’
Then Elthek addressed the shaggy congregation for an hour or
so, punctuating his oration with simple tricks of ‘magic’. The flames
in the bonfire changed colors several times as the Deacon’s
underlings surreptitiously tossed assorted powders into the coals.
A ‘ghost’, which was no more than a gauzy veil suspended on a
black string, appeared, billowing in the heat of the fire. A second
moon, actually a large glass globe filled with fireflies, rose over the
gorge. Rocks started to bleed, and a ‘dead’ sheep was resurrected.
It was all fairly transparent, but Elthek ladled on high drama and
the drunken Cultists were all suitably impressed.
‘What do you think, Pol?’ Kamion asked me. ‘Is that witchcrafty
enough for our purposes?’
‘Witchcrafty?’ I asked in some amusement.
‘I’ve always had this way with words,’ he said modestly.
‘You’re the expert in this area, Pol,’ Anrak said. ‘Is Elthek really
performing magic out there?’
‘No. It’s all pure fakery. It should be enough to convict him,
though.’
‘My feelings exactly,’ Kamion said. He reached for his hunting
horn.
‘Aren’t you going to wait for the naked girls?’ Anrak sounded
disappointed.
‘Ah – no, Anrak. I don’t think so. Let’s not complicate the trial
by adding women to the list of the accused.’ He lifted his horn and
blew a long, brazen note, calling in Captain Torgun and his men.
The soldiers were well trained, and the Cultists were far gone in
drink, so it wasn’t even a very interesting fight, and the casualties
were minimal. Elthek kept screaming, ‘How dare you?’ but I noticed
that he didn’t reach for his sword. Finally, Captain Torgun grew
tired of the screaming and stilled the Deacon’s objections with his
fist.
It was dawn by the time the line of chained Cultists were dragged
Into Riva’s city. We threw them into the dungeon under the temple
of Belar and then Kamion spoke briefly with Captain Torgun before
Then
he, Anrak and I escorted our
group of witnesses back up the hill
e niost to the Citadel to advise Daran that our little excursion had been
successful.
‘trial’ took place the following day in the public square in
The
front of the temple. I noticed that Captain Torgun’s soldiers had
passed the time erecting a fair number of posts in the square and
piling firewood around them – just in case.
‘Why are we doing this here instead of in the throne room?’ I
asked Daran before the proceedings began.
‘I want everyone here in the city to hear the testimony, Aunt Pol,’
he explained. ‘Let’s fix it so that the Bear-Cult doesn’t reappear just
as soon as my back’s turned.’
Daran sat on a large, ornate chair – Elthek’s, actually – which
Torgun’s soldiers had dragged out of the temple and placed where
everyone could see it. Then the Bear-Cultists, still in chains and
seriously disheveled, were dragged up out of the temple dungeon
and forced to sit in a huddled group at the foot of the broad stair
that led up to the temple door. The square was full of people as the
proceedings began.
Kamion, Warder of Riva, rose to his feet to address the assembled
citizens. ‘A crime has been committed here on our island, my
friends,’ he began, ‘and we are gathered here to sit in judgment.’
‘What crime are we talking about, Lord Brand?’ a well-coached
townsman demanded in a booming voice that could be heard all
over the square. The Rivan Warder, I noted, was not the sort to
leave anything to chance.
‘The crime of witchcraft,’ Kamion replied.
Elthek, battered and bruised by Captain Torgun’s fists, tried to
leap to his feet, but that’s a little hard to do when you’re chained
to other people.
The proceedings went smoothly, I thought. Kamion’s questioning
was masterly, and the witnesses all confirmed the fact that Elthek
had performed ‘magic’ at the gathering in the gorge.
Then Captain Torgun dragged the Rivan Deacon to his feet.
‘What say you to the charges?’ Kamion demanded of the prisoner.
‘Lies! All lies!’ Elthek almost screamed. ‘And that law doesn’t
apply to me!’
‘The law applies to everybody,’ Daran told him firmly.
‘I’m a priest! I’m a Deacon of the Church of Belar!’
‘All the more reason for you to obey the law.’
‘It wasn’t really magic!’
‘Oh?’ Daran said mildly. ‘I can’t call up ghosts or create another
moon or make rocks bleed. Can you, Lord Brand?’
‘I wouldn’t even want to try, your Highness,’ Kamion replied.
‘Let’s get on with this,’ Earl jarok boomed.
‘How say the people?’ Daran asked in a loud, formal voice. ‘Are
these men guilty of the charge of witchcraft?’
‘YES!’ the crowd roared. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find
that deer on the other side of the Isle were startled by the sound.
‘Return the prisoners to the dungeon,’ Daran instructed. ‘I will
consider this matter and devise a suitable punishment for this foul
crime.’
I’ll be the first to admit that the entire business was crudely staged,
but we’re talking about Alorns here, and subtlety’s never been an
Alorn strong point.
The extended period during which Daran ‘considered’ his final
judgment gave the prisoners plenty of time to look out through the
tiny, barred, ground-level windows at the grim stakes out in the
square.
it was cloudy on the day when Daran announced his judgment,
one of those cool, dry days when the clouds obscuring the sky gave
no hint of rain, but when the light casts no shadows. We all trooped
down to the temple square again, and the convicted felons were
dragged up out of the dungeon to learn their fate. The artfully
prepared stakes surrounding the square hinted strongly at what
that fate was going to be, and the captives all seemed moderately