Quentin stood at the high parapet overlooking the tranquil forest. His

the celebrants, as if it had been called up from the depths of its
underworld home to reign as lord over the foul Hegnrutha.
 
At first Quentin believed it to be alive, but as the thing moved closer
he saw that it was in fact pulled along with ropes by a hundred or so
of its keepers, who clustered about its feet. At last they brought it
to the fire's brink, where it stood with hands outstretched in a
perpetual blessing or curse.
 
It was a statue an immense carven image of a beast with the legs and
torso of a man, the head of a lion and the maw of a jackal. Two great
curving horns swept out from either side of its head, and its mouth was
open in a snarl of rage.
 
"It is their idol," said Toll, his eyes filled with the sight before
him. He fairly shouted, for at the sight of the towering idol the
frenzied scene below had erupted in a climax of insane exuberance. The
ground fairly trembled with the pandemonium. Their two guards Jumped
up and began dancing where they stood, waving their arms and screaming
with en ravished abandon.
 
Now more wood was being thrown around the base of the statue, and it
was being induced into the flames. As Quentin and Toli watched the
flames encircle the monstrous idol, a shadow detached itself from among
the myriad flickering projections and
 
/ 499 /
 
crept toward them along the perimeter. In a moment, without sensing
anyone was there at all, Quentin heard a rasping whisper in his ear.
 
"I am going to cut your hands free. Do not move."
 
Quentin did as instructed and felt his bonds fall away. His right arm
swung limply down; he gathered it up with his left hand and held it
close to his chest. Without waiting for further instruction, he rolled
to cover beneath the wagon.
 
The three met, heads together, under the shelter of the wagon box. Toli
rubbed his wrists and asked, "Why are you doing this?"
 
There was a brief flash of white in the darkness as the warlord's
emissary smiled. "They are my captors, too. I have long planned to
escape, but if I am to survive I will need the help of those who know
this country." He looked at both of them, his eyes glinting in the
firelight. "Time is short. We must go."
 
Away from the wagons there was little chance of discovery. There were
no sentries on this night, but there were several smaller groups of
revelers gathered around smaller fires at the edges of the camp, and
others could be heard crashing through the woods in hysterical rapture.
Their screams tore through the night, leaving little doubt in Quentin's
mind of the reality of the animal spirits to (which this night was
devoted.
 
The three crouching figures worked their way around the rim of the
camp, darting furtively through the mingling expanses of light and
darkness. In the trees around them, the huge elongated shadows
cavorted in grotesque mummery as the savage rites progressed
unabated.
 
It was slow work threading through the circle's outer ring, but at last
they managed to reach the shelter of the wood where the shadows
gathered over them like a cloak. "I have hidden our horses just
there." The seneschal nodded into the further darkness beyond. "I was
able to retrieve your steed " he looked at Quentin "but yours could not
be found."
 
Toli grinned and replied, "It was not my horse I took it from among the
others at tether."
 
Even in the dark Quentin could see their guide's eyebrows arch upward
in surprise and his eyes shine in amused disbelief. "Then I was right
about you two after all. You are not without considerable resource
yourselves. I have chosen my partners well."
 
The air seemed cooler in the woods and they moved with increased
confidence, though the dell rang on every hand with the howls and
shrieks of the celebrants of Hegnrutha. The familiar woodland seemed
now a desolate place given to the homeless shades who wandered the
night lands
 
Quentin shivered inwardly and fought to keep pace with the others. By
the time they reached the horses, waiting patiently in a small
gorse-covered draw, Quentin was panting and weak. The modicum of
strength he had been able to scrape together was nearly exhausted.
 
"I know a way out of the wood, if you will follow me," said the
emissary. "Then it is I who will follow you."
 
"Very well," said Toli. "Lead on."
 
The two mounted quickly and wheeled their horses to the north and away
from the camp behind them. Toll cast a quick look over his shoulder
and saw Quentin hanging from the saddle with one hand, too weak to
climb onto his horse.
 
"Wait!" shouted Toll, slipping from his mount. "My master, I am sorry
... I should have realized...."
 
"No I will be all right. Just help me into the saddle."
 
In the moonlight softly filling the draw Toll saw the film of sweat
glistening on Quentin's brow. "Ride with me; I can take us both."
 
"Once we are away from here I will be all right," insisted Quentin.
"Hurry, now. Help me into the saddle. There is no time to argue."
 
Toli caught his master's foot and hoisted him onto the mount. He could
see that Quentin's right arm dangled uselessly from his shoulder.
Quentin grabbed the reins with his left hand and drew his right across
his lap to tuck it beneath his cloak.
 
"Let us away," be said hoarsely.
 
Toli sprang to his mount and they were off, the horses clipping over
the furze and beading into the wood. Blazer seemed none the worse for
his adventure, thought Quentin, relieved to be in his own
 
/ 501 I
 
saddle once again. At least with Blazer he did not need two hands to
ride the horse would anticipate the commands of his master. Quentin
had only to bang on, that was something he desperately hoped he would
be able to do.
 
In a moment they were in the deep wood where the thick columns of trees
broke the silver moonlight and scattered it in slivers all around.
Behind them, like the voices heard in dreams, the cries of the revelers
wailed on, diminishing rapidly as distance and the thick growth of the
wood cut them off. It is a dream, Quentin imagined as he chased the
elusive shapes before him, flitting in and out of shadow and light an
awful dream that will be forgotten upon making. But the sting of the
occasional whipping branch and the bracing freshness of the night air
on his face was only too real. He knew this was one dream that could
not be shaken off in daylight. The nightmare was real, and it had come
in force to Mensandor.
 
TWENTY-THREE
 
"IT B TIME something is done," the High Priest of Ariel said to himself
as he paced his bare cell. "It is time to act." The thick candle
guttered in the swirls stirred up by Biorkis' passing to and fro. A
stack of parchment scrolls teetered precariously upon the table,
clustered and rustling like autumn leaves in the breeze.
 
"It is time... it is time," be said, heaving himself through the door
of his cell and into the darkened passageway beyond. He ran through
the empty temple and passed through a side entrance used only by the
priests. He hopped across a moonlit courtyard and through a narrow
portal in the wall, then stood alone on the edge of the plateau and
looked out across the silent valley below. He turned and cast his old
eyes, still sharp as blades, toward the eastern sky.
 
The moon was overhead, but in the east a star blazed brightly more
brilliant than any of its sisters. And round the glowing star a film
of light seemed to gather) streaming out from the star's core. The
portion of the night where that star was fixed shone with pale
radiance, and wherever the eye roamed in examination of night's black
dome it was drawn back to that star the Wolf Star.
 
"Yes! Yea, it is time to act," shouted Biorkis. His voice echoed back
to him from the empty courtyard and the temple colonnade beyond the
wall. He turned, fled over the jumble of rocks and swept back through
the courtyard and into the temple once more. He made his way, puffing
along on short, stout legs, to one of the temple's many summons gongs.
He picked up the striker and pausing one final instant for reflection,
banged it into the gong several times in quick succession.
 
"That will bring them running," he said, and he was right.
 
In a moment the vestibule was filled with sleepy priests who rubbed
their eyes and groaned at the disturbance to their slumbers.
 
^Fellow-pricstsl" Biorkis' voice sounded loudly in their sleep dulled
ears. He shouted on purpose to bring them fully awake. "My bed has
remained empty these two nights running; you can bear with me fast this
little while. I wish to speak to you." There were groans among the
general body of priests.
 
"What is this, Biorkis? Why have you called us from our devotions?"
 
Your snoring vespers arc not important," Biorkis snapped at his
insolent questioner. "It is time to acti The star which shines
without, growing bigger with each passing night I know now what it
means."
 
"And this could not wait until morning?" The speaker was Pluell, the
under-high priest, his own assistant. He at least had the privilege,
as Biorkis had once had, of questioning the High Priest.
 
"I think not. It has waited too long already. While we have blindly
contemplated its meaning at our leisure, the star has grown large, and
with it the strength of the evil it betokens. Mcnsandor is under siege
by forces from far countries. The world we know is trembling on the
brink of destruction."
 
There was a murmur among the priests. Pluell bent to confer with
several of his brothers. "I am surprised to hear that you are so
 
/ 503 I
 
concerned, Biorkis. It is not like you at all. You are the one who
has ever instructed us of the folly of considering the commerce of
mortal kings and their petty concerns.
 
"It does alarm me to hear you speak so now. Should we not draw aside,
you and I, and discuss this together?"
 
Biorkis bridled at the suggestion. "Why, Pluell, do I sense in your
tone the shriek of ambition? Why should not our brothers hear what I
have to say?"
 
The under-high priest stepped toward his mentor, placing a hand on his
arm as if he would lead him aside. "This is not the time to display
such ill-founded airs before our assembled brothers. Come aside. You
are tired and your vigil has made you somewhat shall we say,
irrational."
 
"Irrational, indeed! I have never been so lucid in my long and
eventful life. But I do not understand your manner at all. Why do you
look at me so?"
 
"It is late, brothers. Return to your cells and to your rest. We will
no doubt have a more fruitful discussion tomorrow."
 
Some of the priests made as if to leave; others stood hesitantly,
uncertain whether to stay or go as instructed.
 
"I am High Priest!" shouted Biorkis angrily. "Have you 'forgotten?
All of you stay where you are and hear me! I propose to send King
Eskevar word of our discovery."
 
"Your discovery, Biorkis. You cannot expect us to endorse it, surely."
Pluell's voice was smooth, and there was not a trace of sleep or
fatigue in it.
 
Suddenly Biorkis realized what was happening: Pluell's overreaching
ambition, long held in check, was now released. He was making his move
to take over the High Priesthood. Biorkis trembled with rage as the
realization knifed through him. What a fool I have been, he thought.
While I have lain awake seeking an answer to the riddle of yonder star,
he has been scheming or my rod.
 
"It shall not be, viper!" Biorkis shouted. His unexplained outburst
brought wondering stares from the assembled priests. "Take your hand
from me! Hear me, brothers. I am High Priest, and long have you known
me. When have I ever proposed a thing unwisely, or brought dishonor to
the god whom we serve?"
 
There were doleful looks all around and much fool shuffling.
 
No one ventured to apeak. Pluell fumed silently at Biorkis' right
hand, his eyes narrowed with hate.
 
"Why should my suggestion of a message to the King cause such concern
for some of our brothers' As he spoke, the High Priest gazed about him
and recognized some who must belong to PluelTs faction. He knew he was
fighting now at a great disadvantage, but his heart warmed with anger
and his thoughts became crystalline.
 
"What does anyone have to fear of my sending word to our monarch?
Unless there is a reason why they would keep all knowledge of the
events to come to themselves. Unless they would remove the High Temple
from its place as servant to the subjects of the realm."
 
Pluell laughed, but there was no mirth in his voice. "How you do go
on, Biorkis. There is nothing at all to prevent your communicating
with the Ring if you like."
 
"Of course not. I am High Priest. A journey to Askelon is within the
authority of my sacred vows, for I will it so to be. I would grant
this same authority to any who served me in the matter."
 
"Why not go then and make the trip yourself?" Pluell hissed.
 
"I? I am old, and a younger man could travel the Sister. I will set
my seal to a tetter to be carried by one whom I will choose."
 
"I do not think you would find any who would as eagerly cast aside
their vows as you would have them."
 
"They would not violate their vows. I have already said as much why do
you persist in this?" Biorkis felt suddenly weak and sick. Somewhere
though Biorkis had not seen it the crafty Pluell had turned the
discourse to his advantage. The High Priest knew he was doomed, though
he could not see how.
 
"Who better than the High Priest should go and speak to a Ring? Let
your own Ups bear your tidings."
 
"Very well," said Biorkis angrily. "I will go. Who will come with
me?" He glared around the circle of bewildered faces.
 
No one volunteered.
 
"What? Will no one accompany the High Priest on this arduous tourney?
I could order all of you to go!"
 
"Maybe now we should come aside and talk," suggested Pluell once more.
He seemed to glow with satisfaction.
 
/ 505 I
 
"I have nothing more to say to you Biorkis raised his rod and brought
it down with a crash upon the stone floor at his feet.
 
"As you will, brother. Then I have no other choice but to inform the
priests of Ariel of the transgressions committed by the High Priest and
ask for their recommendation."
 
"What transgressions? Name them I am not afraid. In all my life as a
priest I have ever been faithful to my vows and to the god."
 
"You force my hand. Hear then, all priests, " Pluell said, nodding to
a priest who had drawn close. The priest handed over a scroll which
Pluell took and made a great show of unrolling. In a strident,
accusing voice the under-high priest began reading off a list of
imaginary crimes which Biorkis was alleged to have committed against
the temple and his vows. The priests looking on appeared divided; some
nodded their agreement of the charges, others wore looks of
astonishment and disbelief.
 
When Fluell was finished he turned to Biorkis. "What do you have to
say to these indictments?"
 
"Azrael take your indictments! There is no truth in them. Any who
know me can tell you that. But I do not think it matters at all what I
say. You have already made up your mind how this will end. J Get on
with it."
 
' Pluell turned to the assembly and with his easy and unperturbed
manner said, "You have heard with your own ears that he does not deny
the charges. There is but one recommendation we can bring: Biorkis is
to be stripped of his priesthood and a new High Priest assume his
duties. Biorkis is to be cast out from among us. Are there any who
would gainsay these recommendations?" The room was silent as a grave.
No one moved a muscle. The moment passed and Pluell, speaking with
calm assurance in a voice tinged with false sadness, turned to Biorkis.
"I am sorry it had to end this way. It would have been better for you
to have gone away alone while you had the chance. I would nave spared
you this indignity."
 
"Spare me not, foul friend! I will go at once, but hear me ere I
leave, all you priests of Ariel." He gazed at each man, many of them
close friends who turned away from his burning stare in shame for their
silence. "Evil has this night entered this temple. It will destroy
each one of you if you do not pluck it out and cast it aside at
once."
 
In response to a signal from Pluell four temple guards came forward
with torches. They took Biorkis by the arms.
 
"I am going," the High Priest shouted. "But remember my words, all of
you. The land is fallen under a shadow. Soon no place will be safe
not even the High Temple of Ariel. If you will not follow me and do
what must be done, at least look upon the one whom you have chosen and
know him for what he is.
 
"The people of the realm will seek your protection and bid the god to
defend them. You will not be able to do it, for your prayers will not
be heard."
 
"Take him away!" shouted Pluell. "He is raving again."
 
The guards moved to take Biorkis out; the great wooden doors of the
temple were already swinging open. The night air blew in among the
assembled priests as a sudden chilling reminder of Biorkis' dire
predictions.
 
The temple guards hauled-their former leader down the long stone steps
of the temple and pushed him into the courtyard. Biorkis stumbled a
few steps away and then turned toward his accusers, who had spilled out
upon the steps to watch him go. The white-haired old man raised his
rod of office, which the guards had neglected to wrest from him, and
said in a voice strong as cutting steel, "The end of the age is upon
us. Look to yourselves for your salvation; the gods will not help you.
This temple will not stand!"
 
So saying, he threw the rod to the ground where it burst into a
thousand pieces. Then he turned and hobbled off into the night.
 
TWENTY-FOUR
 
"IF EYES AND ears do not deceive, the enemy lies encamped in yonder
wood." Ronsard leaned heavily on the pommel of his saddle, staring
down onto the wooded plain below them, black and forbidding in the
moonlight.
 
"It would stand a fair wager, I will warrant," replied Theido, he too
was tired and arched his back to stretch weary muscles. Ronsard's
knights had dismounted and now walked to draw me stiffness from their
legs. Only Esme seemed as fresh as when they had begun so early that
morning.
 
"What rites require such observance?" wondered Esme as she listened to
the horrific din emanating from the wood. The rattling screams pierced
the waning night like the cries of the tortured and dying.
 
"We can but guess, my Lady. But perhaps it is the better for vs. We
may creep in closer while they spend themselves in their savage
revel."
 
"IfQuendn and Toli are down there, we will find them," said Ronsard
resolutely. "We may as well make a start." He tried his sword in its
scabbard, the blade slid easily, flashing a glint of silver in the
moonlight. He turned to Esme. "My Lady, if you would care to remain
here until we return for you, it would fair ease my mind."
 
"Have no fear for me, brave sir, I will do my part. Perchance you will
need what little service I can render. My arm is not as strong as
yours, but my blade is sharp as a serpent's tooth and quicker still."
 
"As you wish; I shall not discourage you. It does seem most apparent
that you can take care of yourself. Follow then and do what I direct."
Ronsard flicked the reins and called to his knights, "Be mounted. We
will approach the wood single-file. Keep blades and shield covered. We
will leave our horses in the wood and come to the camp on foot. If all
goes well with us, we may escape undetected
 
"Lord Ronsard," said one of the knights. "Someone flees the wood as
you speak. See there. Along that gully beyond those trees."
 
"I see it!" replied Theido. "There are three of them. Do you think
... ?" He looked at Ronsard hopefully.
 
"It would do to find out who they are at least." He watched the three
figures riding away from the wood with some speed, they were pale
shapes floating over the gray sea of long grass just above the black
line of a dry water-course some distance away. "I think we may meet
them just there" he pointed with a gloved hand toward a bend where the
gully swerved around the base of a hill. "Come, let us see who it is
that flees the foul host by night.
 
Quentin clung to the saddle by force of will. He felt drained and used
up. All strength had been wrung out of him in the escape. Now he let
Blazer have his head and concentrated merely on keeping himself upright
in the saddle, knowing he could not go on much longer; soon he would
have to stop and rest. But he thought if he could last until daylight,
they would be far enough away that stopping would not endanger them.
 
So he clutched at the horn of his saddle and bung on as Blazer jounced
and jostled along. To his dazed mind it seemed as if he had entered a
dream in which hills and sky and woods became his pursuers, crying
after him with shrieks of rage and fury. He fled them through gray
mists on a horse that flew like the wind, but could not outpace the
pursuit.
 
In his waking dream he saw an army emerge from the hills above them to
come sweeping down upon their flank. The dream knights came thundering
down to intercept them; he could see their faces hard in the moonlight,
and could feel the hot breath of the horses on his face as they drew
nearer as if by magic.
 
But there was something odd about the dream. He shook his
 
/ 509 /
 
head to clear it and looked again the dream remained. Quentin peered
intently, forcing himself to see clearly. But again he saw the force
of knights moving down the hillside toward them.
 
"Toll!" he cried, lurching in the saddle as he flung his good arm out
to his side. The Jher glanced quickly over his shoulder and dropped
back to Quentin's side. "They have found us!" he shouted. Toli
jerked his head to where Quentin was pointing, and his startled look
confirmed at once that it was not a dream. They were being chased.
 
He gave a shrill whistle which brought the seneschal around, and at