C l scheel, p.15
C L Scheel, page 15
"The Master Healer has ordered him to rest for a while. He is asleep, but this afternoon, he will leave for the canyon."
"Yes, tonight is the Eclipse."
Miri finished her chores and prepared to leave, when Suzanne suddenly knew what she must do.
"Would you be kind enough to get a message to His Highness for me?"
The maid nodded.
"I would like to speak to him before he goes to the canyon. Tell him I'll meet with him where ever he wishes."
Miri curtsied and was about to leave the room when she stopped and looked at her. “I know what I would like to learn, my lady."
"What is that?"
"To be like you."
* * * *
THE AFTERNOON PASSED quickly. A messenger arrived stating that Prince Akken'ar would be pleased to meet Lady Suzanne in the atrium. The message sent Miri into another gentle tirade of warnings. “You'll injure yourself, my lady, and the Master Healer said you were not to walk, under any circumstances."
"I know, Miri, but I have do this. I must see the prince. Besides, my leg doesn't hurt and I promise I won't walk too far."
Miri remained adamant. “I cannot let you leave, my lady.” Determined, the little maid planted herself in front of the door, refusing to budge.
Suzanne sighed. “All right. What if I have someone carry me down to the atrium?"
"I don't know ... ,” Miri said skeptically.
"Fetch Borkha. He's big and strong and I'm certain he won't drop me.” Suzanne could see Miri wavering. “The moment I have spoken to the prince, Borkha can bring me back to my room and the Master Healer will never know."
Miri finally relented and ran to find the warrior who had driven one of the transport sleighs. Borkha was only too pleased to carry Suzanne to the atrium. Once there, she insisted he set her down near the window so she could stand looking out at the snow-covered mountains.
Shadows deepened and for a time Suzanne thought Akken'ar might not come, but then she heard the paneled door open and he stepped inside. He strode toward her, dressed for battle, his proud face unreadable. Something caught in Suzanne's heart, making it impossible for her to speak.
"You asked to see me?” he asked gravely.
"Yes, I did."
"This is the second time we have met in the atrium."
"It seems the ideal place where we can speak."
"Alone?” he finished, one black brow arched, amused.
"Yes, alone.” Looking at him, standing so close, her courage began to fail. Suzanne turned away and clasped her hands together tightly. “I must ask something of you ... a promise."
"A promise? It has been a long time since I have been asked to keep a promise."
"Will you promise to take me back to Knife Edge Pass, after the Eclipse?"
He didn't answer at first and Suzanne was too afraid to turn around to look at him.
"I'm not sure this is a promise I would want to keep,” he said.
"Why not?” She looked over her shoulder at him and saw he was entirely serious. When he didn't answer she slowly turned back to him. “My lord, it is time for me to leave. I've done what you asked—fulfilled your prophecy."
"Yes, but I do not want you to go. There is much more to be done. You have so much knowledge; you remember the past. You are the Wordsayer, you can teach us—"
"No!” Tears gathered in her eyes, caught in her throat. “Don't you see? I'm not a Wordsayer, I'm a fraud, just like Kyrk. I'm...” She shrugged helplessly. “...just a writer, a storyteller. I write books.” There, she'd said it. Now let him ridicule her, tell her she had no business interfering with the lives of his people or their traditions.
Suzanne looked down, pressing her palm to her forehead. How could she speak to a man like Akken'ar, the kind of man she dreamed about, but could only exist in her books. “I don't belong here. I'm from a different time ... the past, before the Cataclysms."
"Master Jonovar has spoken to me of this traveling through the time. It is an impossible thing to understand, but I believe it is true. Why else would a woman like you be here?"
She looked at him through her tears. “I don't know,” she whispered.
Akken'ar took a step closer to her. “I will tell you why: you were chosen."
"No, I was not chosen. It was something that happened by chance, an accident."
"Does it matter?” he asked. Akken'ar reached for her arm, clasping it in a gentle grasp. “Does it truly matter how or why you were chosen? I do not think so and I do not care. All my life I have prayed to the gods and my ancestors to find a way to stop the skags from killing my people. The Master Wordkeepers, since the time of Saint Kyrk, have promised that a Wordsayer would come and read the Text. The Text has proven to be worthless, but you still came, Suzanne. You still came."
She had never heard him call her by her first name and the sound of it on his lips was infinitely sweet.
"I do not want you to go, my lady, because my people need you.” He hesitated; his gaze turned from hers. “And because, I need you."
Before she could answer, Akken'ar bent to her and placed a light kiss on her mouth. “I risk much ... ,” he murmured. He straightened, then stepped away.
Suzanne fingers flew to her lips, touching the place where their lips had met. Astonishment dissolved the last of her tears.
"If you still wish it, I will take you to Knife Edge Pass after I return.” Akken'ar did not wait for her to answer. He spun on his heel and swept out of the atrium, leaving her trembling and her heart in turmoil.
* * * *
IT WAS NEARLY dark by the time he left Ironhold and Akken'ar had pushed aside the memory of his meeting with Suzanne. But not all of it. His impulse to kiss her had surprised even himself. What was he thinking? It had been a long time since he had enjoyed the pleasure of kissing a woman, yet he had wanted to kiss her even if she was the Wordsayer. She was still a woman and he had seen ... something passionate in her eyes that betrayed more than her bewilderment.
Akken'ar heeled his horse into a faster gallop. He could not allow himself to worry about Suzanne. The skags were gathering and there were many details to discuss with Zykov and his other officers.
At the base camp, the general greeted him soberly. “All is in readiness, Highness. The skags have gathered, but more are coming. I've never seen so many of them.” Zykov made a disgusted face. “Stinking and writhing like maggots..."
"I need to see them for myself."
Guarded by six heavily armed warriors, Akken'ar hurried up the steep hill to the rim of the canyon where he, along with the others, dropped to his belly and peered over the edge.
Zykov was correct; hundreds, perhaps thousands of skags had gathered inside the canyon, a screeching, gibbering sea of demented beasts.
"Do we have enough fuel?” Akken'ar asked in a low voice.
"The Wordsayer assured us we had plenty. Besides, we tested some of it while you were at Ironhold.” Zykov's single eye gleamed roguishly.
"And?"
"We poured a small amount on some dry wood. When we lit it, the flames jumped so high I nearly lost my other eye.” Zykov grinned. “We've warned everyone to stand clear when the fires are lit. I don't want anyone burned, except them.” He pointed to the skags below.
The night grew darker and bitterly cold. The pale moon shimmered like a great sightless eye. Akken'ar watched intently as a black mass began moving across the sky, slowly blotting out the brilliant light.
The warriors grew tense and the skags became increasingly restless. Their gibbering grew louder, shriller as the moon became completely eclipsed.
Akken'ar looked up in awe. Not for more than two hundred sunpasses would anyone see such a sight again and for a fleeting moment, he hoped Suzanne was watching this extraordinary event. As the darker body covered the moon, it took on a strange light of its own. The center brightened, reshaped until its design was clear: a red tear within black, the black within white—a bloody weeping eye. The Red Eclipse.
The skags screeching turned into a bone-chilling howl, rising above the canyon floor. They began writhing and dancing, arms extended above their heads reaching for the strange light in the sky.
This is where they renew their strength, Akken'ar suddenly realized. The unearthly light gave them the power to continue living on until the next Eclipse.
He signaled Zykov, who sent an archer below to the warriors at the opening of the canyon where the first attack would begin. Holding his breath, Akken'ar watched as the lead archer stood from his hiding place and sent a blazing arrow into the howling mob. The instant it struck the skag, flames burst into a scorching white blaze that consumed the creature in a matter of moments.
Akken'ar resumed breathing as astonishment filled him. There would be plenty of fuel to destroy them. And Suzanne was right, just as she promised: there was an answer, a solution.
A rain of arrows followed, striking the closely-packed skags turning the canyon into an inferno. The flames leaped from creature to creature, burning them swiftly. Panic-stricken, some tried to rush out of the canyon, but Akken'ar's best warriors were waiting. If the flames didn't stop them, swords did. The skags fell like ripe wheat under the scythe.
A few managed to escape the flames, but had no other way out but up the steep, rocky wall of the canyon. Enraged and wild, still under the influence of the Eclipse, they scrabbled to the edge of the canyon, determined to evade the flames below. Akken'ar called to the warriors along the rim and they sent volley after volley of flaming arrows into the fleeing skags.
Zykov raced up to him, his face black with ash and smoke. “There are too many, my lord! I fear we won't hold them!"
"Light the rim. Even if they get through that, most will be on fire."
The general nodded and spun away, ordering the rim fires lit. The fuel, so desperately acquired, proved more lethal than Akken'ar expected. It consumed the skags quickly, but burned hotter and higher, turning the canyon into a cauldron of flame and smoke. What little vegetation still clung to the inner walls of the canyon only added to the inferno. It still didn't stop some of the skags from escaping.
"Don't let them get past you!” he called to the row of swordsmen placed behind the archers.
A handful of shrieking creatures broke through the encircling fire, unscathed. They were bigger than the ones left burning below—the strong ones, the bullies, who tossed their smaller companions aside in order to elude the flames.
The largest one spotted Akken'ar and scrambled toward him on all fours. It stopped and stood, man-like, hissing and growling, challenging him to fight. Akken'ar answered the challenge by drawing both swords from his back. This one would die the hard way, the old-fashioned way.
"Come on, you gibbering maggot.” He cracked his swords together, taunting the creature.
The skag flew at him, snarling like a rabid animal. Akken'ar's swords flicked and parried, striking a knee, severing a hand, plunging into the creature's scabrous mid-section. It fell back, barely winded and squatted in the snow, waiting to regenerate. Akken'ar knew the skag's only tactic was patience. It would endure an endless cycle of wounds and regeneration, then attack again in order to wear its prey down until they were too exhausted to fight.
Breathing hard, he watched the creature wait for its hand to regenerate. Akken'ar had only moments before the skag came after him again. Swords poised, he went for the neck striking two blows on each side, but the skag was fast. The blows proved to be harmless as the creature jumped aside and attacked Akken'ar again, slamming him to the ground, knocking both swords from his hands. The skag pounced on Akken'ar's chest, mauling him with talons and its hideous jagged black teeth. He heard the stout leather of his tunic rip like paper, felt the protective furs torn from his body. He fought with every fragment of his strength, but he knew he wouldn't survive the attack.
Pain scorched through his left arm where the skag had managed to sink its teeth into him. In desperation, Akken'ar beat his right fist into the skag's deformed face, again and again, shattering bones and blinding it in one eye. When he thought he couldn't raise his arm again, Akken'ar saw the flash of a sword blade. The skag's last sound was a surprised grunt as its head toppled into the snow.
In agony, Akken'ar rolled onto his left side, cradling the bitten arm against his body. Infection from skag bites came swiftly. He heard Zykov kneeling at his side.
"My lord, did it bite you?"
Akken'ar groaned and nodded. “Below ... elbow,” he managed to gasp. “Did we...?"
"A complete victory, my lord. You have won!"
He sensed a flurry of activity, felt hands lifting and placing him on the back of a work sleigh. He fought to stay conscious, but the pain finally won. His last vision was the cold bloody tear on the moon.
* * * *
SUZANNE NEVER WENT back to her room. She remained in the atrium to watch the coming eclipse and anxiously await Akken'ar's return. Nothing could force her to give up her place near the tall window. She asked that a chair be brought in so she could sit while she waited. Both Miri and the Master Healer, Melchor, grudgingly complied with her wishes. Miri brought her a light supper, while Master Melchor lectured her on the dangers of over exertion.
"I'm not going anywhere, Master Melchor. I promise I won't walk. When Prince Akken'ar returns, I'll have Borkha carry me back to my room.
"Very well,” the Master Healer conceded. “If you need anything, you have Miri fetch it for you."
Those inside Ironhold remained tense and worried. No one slept. The few remaining guards patrolled the empty corridors, too restless to remain in one place for long. Anxiety for the prince and the warriors at the canyon remained high.
Through the long night, Suzanne sat next to the window watching the slow progression of the Red Eclipse. At exactly the mid of the night, the dark mass—a large meteor fragment she presumed—completely covered the moon. Its odd shape and the haloed moonlight reshaped the image until she saw what she had dreamed the first night when she slept in Akken'ar's tent: the bloody eye watching over a snowbound world. She shuddered slightly. In spite of its rather eerie beauty, the Eclipse evoked a breathless sense of wonder. She took in the extraordinary sight, knowing she would never see it again.
Suzanne heard the atrium door open and Master Melchor slipped in to stand next to her.
"Remarkable, isn't it,” he said.
"Yes. It's like nothing I've seen before nor will ever see again."
The Healer nodded. “Nor, I. We are indeed fortunate to see such a phenomenon."
Her thoughts turned to Akken'ar and his men fighting the skags. “Master Melchor, do you know why the skags gather every two hundred and fourteen sunpasses?"
"I am uncertain. Very few people have ever seen what happens inside the canyon. It was once thought that the skags gathered to breed during the Red Eclipse. But it was discovered long ago that skags are sterile. I discovered this myself when I cut ... er, examined one that was dead. Of course, it has been suggested that some of them go to the canyon to die. We just don't know."
"No one has ever witnessed it and written down what they saw?"
"Perhaps, but there are no records here in san'Sorafel. There may be a record in the other Libraries."
Suzanne almost jumped from her chair. “Other Libraries?"
"Yes, there are two remaining Libraries from the time of the Cataclysms, but they are far from here. One is east in the Old Mountains, in san'Jaxon. The other is north in Canda. It takes many weeks to get there. But, I have seen the Library in san'Jaxon. It is smaller than our Library, but contains many books we do not have.” He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “I have even seen a few rare books on the machines the Ancients used. They had many wondrous things."
"Yes, they did,” Suzanne said. “Does Master Eika and Master Jonovar know of these Libraries?"
"Oh, yes, but the journey to reach them is long and dangerous. And, with the skags ... You must take a boat eastward across the Sierra Sea to reach san'Jaxon."
Suzanne could scarcely breathe. Answers. She had real answers. Now she knew where she was. The west was under water, but eastward over the Rockies and up north, there were other cities that had survived. Most astounding of all, there were two more Libraries.
She looked up at the shimmering eclipsed moon. Somehow, it did not appear quite so sinister-looking. When Akkena'ar returned, she would ask him about the Libraries.
They continued to watch the eclipse until they both saw a strange flickering light coming from the north. Suzanne rose from the chair and stood next to the Master Healer. “That's fire."
"Yes, my lady. It looks like your burning fuel has worked."
"It's not ‘my’ fuel, Master Melchor; I just helped find it."
"If you had not helped find it, we would have never seen this extraordinary sight. It appears His Highness was successful. I doubt many skags survived that inferno. When the prince returns, the people of san'Sorafel will rejoice.” He beamed at her.
As the night grew older, the eclipse moved out of phase, until only the brilliant moon remained. It was very peaceful in the atrium and Suzanne knew why the women in Prince Akken'ar's family loved it. It was the closest thing in Ironhold that reminded her of home—the soft greenery and flowers fragrant with rain and the rich, moist earth.
Master Melchor finally bid her goodnight. “I will return in a few hours, my lady, to see if your leg is troubling you. I must see that my surgery is ready and that my apprentices are awake.” He smiled. “We have seen the Red Eclipse. Now we must prepare for the worst. I may have a few casualties."
An hour later, he did.
Chapter Thirteen
INSIDE AKKEN'AR'S AUSTERE bedchamber, Master Melchor applied another hot poultice to the prince's arm. Suzanne could see the skag bite had swollen rapidly, turning the skin to an alarming shade of red. Unconscious, Akken'ar groaned and fought against Melchor's apprentices as they struggled to hold him down.
"We shall have to open it,” the Master Healer said in a low voice.
