The Hidden City by David Eddings

shave off Sir Gerda’s beard,’ he muttered. ‘You know, it could

be that it’s because we’re in No-Time. When we did this the

first time – back in Pelosia – none of our spells worked.’

‘I think this spell’s different, Ulath. I’m not really trying to do

anything. I just want to talk with Aphrael.’

‘Yes, but you’re mixing magic. You’re trying to use a Styric

spell when you’re up to your ears in a Trollish one.’

‘Maybe that’s it. I’ll try again when we get to Arjun and go

back into real time.’

Bhlokw came shambling back through the grey light of

Ghnomb’s frozen moment, passing a flock of stationary birds

hanging in the air. ‘There are some of the dens of the man-things

in the next valley,’ he reported.

‘Many or few?’ Ulath asked him.

‘Many,’ Bhlokw replied. ‘Will the man-things have dogs

there?’

‘There are always dogs near the dens of the man-things,

Bhlokw.’

‘We should hurry then.’ The shaggy Troll paused. ‘What do

the man-things call this place?’

‘It is the place Arjun – I think.’

‘That is the place where we want to go, is it not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘The wicked ones have told the one called Berit to go there.

It is our thought that we should go there in Ghnomb’s broken

moment and listen to the bird-talk of the man-things. One of

the man-things may say where the wicked ones will tell the one

called Berit to go next. It may be that the next place will be the

place where Anakha’s mate is. It would be good to know this.’

Bhlokw’s shaggy brow furrowed as he struggled his way

through that. ‘Are the hunts of the man-things always so notsimple?’

he asked.

‘It is the nature of our kind to be not-simple.’

‘Does it not make your head hurt?’

Ulath smiled, being careful not to show his teeth. ‘Sometimes

it does,’ he admitted.

‘It is my thought that a simple hunt is better than a not-simple

hunt. The hunts of the man-things are so not-simple that sometimes

I forget why I am hunting. Trolls hunt things-to-eat. The

man-things hunt thought.’

Ulath was a bit startled at the Troll’s perception. ‘It is my

thought that your thought may be good,’ he admitted. ‘The

man-things do hunt thought. We put much value on it.’

‘Thought is good, U-lat, but you can not eat it.’

‘We hunt thought after our bellies are full.’

‘That is how Trolls and the man-things are different, U-lat. I

am a Troll. My belly is never full. Let us hurry. It is my thought

that it will be good to know if the dogs of this place are as

good-to-eat as the dogs of the other place.’ He paused. ‘I do not

wish to cause you anger, U-lat, but it is my thought that the dogs

of the man-things are more good-to-eat than the man-things

themselves.’ He scratched at his cheek with one shaggy paw. ‘I

would still eat a man-thing if my belly was empty, but I would

like a dog better.’

‘Let us go find you a dog then.’

‘Your thought is good, U-lat.’ The huge beast reached out and

affectionately patted Ulath on the head, nearly driving him to

his knees.

The Child Goddess touched her fingertips lightly to the sides of

Engessa’s broken head, and her eyes became distant.

‘Well?’ Vanion asked, his tone urgent.

‘Don’t rush me, Vanion. The brain is very complicated.’ She

continued her gentle probing. ‘impossible,’ she said finally,

withdrawing her fingers.

Betuana groaned.

‘Please don’t do that, Betuana,’ Aphrael said. ‘All I meant was

that I can’t do it here. I’ll have to take him someplace else to

repair him.’

‘The island?’ Vanion guessed.

She nodded. ‘I can control things there. This is still Cynesga

Cyrgon’s place. I don’t think he’d give me permission no matter

how sweetly I asked him. Can you pray here, Betuana?’

The Atan Queen shook her head. ‘Only in Atan itself.”

‘i’m going to talk to your God about that. It’s really very inconvenient.’

She bent again and put her hand on Engessa’s chest.

The Atan general appeared to stop breathing, and his face

and body were suddenly covered with frost.

‘You’ve killed him!’ Betuana shrieked at her.

‘Oh, hush. I just froze him to stop the bleeding until I can get

him to the island. The injury itself isn’t so bad, but the bleeding’s

tearing up the rest of his brain. The freezing slows it down to

a trickle. That’s all I can do for right now, but it should be

enough to keep his body from doing any more damage to itself

while you’re taking him back to Sama.’

‘There’s no hope,’ Betuana said with a look of anguish.

‘What are you talking about? I can have him back on his feet

in a day or two – but I have to take him to the island where I

can control time. The brain is easy. It’s the heart that’s so – well,

never mind that. Listen closely, Betuana. As soon as you and

Vanion get him to Sama, I want you to go to the Atan border

as fast as you can run. As soon as you get across that line, fall

on your knees and start praying to your God. He’ll be stubborn

– he always is – but keep after him. Make a pest of yourself until

he gives in. I need his permission to take Engessa to my island.

If nothing else works, promise him that I’ll do something nice

for him someday. Don’t be too specific, though. Keep bearing

down on the fact that I can save Engessa, and he can’t.’

‘I will do as you have commanded, Divine One,’ Betuana

declared. ‘I didn’t command, Betuana. I only suggested. I don’t have

the authority to command you.’ The Child Goddess turned to

Vanion. ‘Let me see your sword,’ she said. ‘I want to have a

look at this yellow blood.’

Vanion drew his sword and offered it to her hilt-first.

She shuddered. ‘You hold it, dear one. Steel makes me nausious.’

She squinted at the stains on the blade. ‘Astonishing,’

she murmured. ‘That isn’t blood at all.’

‘It’s what came out of them when we cut them.’

‘Perhaps, but it’s still not blood. It’s some kind of bile. Klael’s

going a little far afield for allies. Those giants you ran across

don’t come from here, Vanion. They aren’t like any creatures

on this world.’

‘We noticed that almost immediately, Divine One.’

‘i’m not talking about their size or shape, Vanion. They don’t

even seem to have the same kind of internal organs as the

humans and animals. I’d guess that they don’t even have

lungs.’

‘Everything has lungs, Aphrael – except maybe fish.’

‘That’s here, dear one. If these creatures have bile in their veins

instead of blood, then they’re relying on their livers for -‘ she

broke off, frowning. ‘I guess it is possible,’ she said a little dubiously. ‘i

I’d hate to smell the air on their world, though.’

‘You do know that I haven’t got the foggiest idea of what

you’re talking about, don’t you?’

She smiled. ‘That’s all right, dear one. I love you anyway.

‘Thank you. ‘

‘Don’t mention it.’

‘It could be good country, friend Tikume,’ Kring said, adjusting

his black leather jerkin and looking around at the rocky desert.

‘It’s open and not too rugged. All it needs is water – and a

few good people.’ The two of them rode at the front of their

disorganized mob of Peloi.

Tikume grinned. ‘When you get right down to it, friend Kring,

that’s all Hell really needs.’

Kring laughed. ‘How far is it to this Cynesgan camp?’ he

asked.

‘Another five leagues. It’s easy fighting, Domi Kring. The

Cynesgans ride horses and carry curved swords much like your

sabers,. but their horses are scrubby and not very good, and

the Cynesgans are too lazy to practice their swordsmanship.

To make it even better, they wear flowing robes with big,

floppy sleeves. Half the time they get tangled up in their own

clothing.’

Kring’s grin was wolfish.

They run fairly well,’ Tikume added, but they always come

back.’

To the same camps?’ Kring asked incredulously.

Tikume nodded. ‘It makes it even easier. We don’t have to go

looking for them.’

Incredible. Are they using rotten tree-stumps for leaders?’

‘From what I’ve heard, they’re getting their orders from

Cyrgon.’ Tikume rubbed his shaved scalp. ‘Do you think it

might be heresy to suggest that even a God can be stupid?’

‘As long as you don’t say it about our God, I think you’re

safe. ‘

‘I wouldn’t want to get in trouble with the Church.’

‘Patriarch Emban’s a reasonable man, Domi Tikume. He won’t

denounce you if you say unflattering things about our enemy.’

Kring raised up in his stirrups to peer across the brown, gravelstrewn

expanse of the Desert of Cynesga. ‘i’m looking forward

to this,’ he said. ‘I haven’t been in a real fight for a long time.’

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