Cascade Point and Other Stories Part 15

Turek had half-expected one of the other Shadow Warriors to finish the job he'd started at the weapons shed, but to the best of his knowledge none of them even bothered to go over and check on the Shadow there. Turek wound up clearing out the entire Shadow himself, and after that he spent a couple of hours tackling smaller Shadows both in the training area and in the house itself. It was a bit surprising to him that there were so many about, and he wondered if perhaps the older Shadow Warriors simply ignored them until they grew large enough to spark a complaint.

By dinnertime he was feeling exhausted, but a short nap in the room a.s.signed to him revived him sufficiently to bathe and to join Krain's swordsmen for a good meal in the houses dining room. Their leader himself was not there-still planning strategy, Turek supposed-and the other three Shadow Warriors were similarly absent. Eating in their own rooms, someone explained when he asked about the latter. Apparently the Shadow Warriors didn't care much for the company of Krain's men-and, judging from the looks occasionally coming his way, the feeling was somewhat mutual. Finis.h.i.+ng his meal quickly, Turek returned to his room.

But he didn't stay there long. Retrieving the sword he'd hidden under his straw-filled mattress, he again belted it securely under his cloak. Into the pack he'd brought from Keilberg went a blanket and a coil of rope he'd borrowed from one of Krain's craftsmen. Then, slipping out through a side door, he headed west... toward Lazuli.

The rapids and waterfall of the whiteriver bordering Lazuli were audible long before the village itself could be seen; that, plus the way the rising hills forced the road's direction, made the place impossible to miss. By the time the stars were beginning to appear overhead, Turek had arrived. For just a moment he paused, struck by the number of bright lights visible between the cliffs and the rapids, and then continued on, moving with the tired gait of a footsore man. He hadn't seen any of the watchers Krain had claimed were present, but had no doubt they were there and didn't want to draw any special attention to himself. With the blanket hiding his blue cloak and his rope-filled pack riding on his shoulder he should look like just another anonymous traveler.

A pair of strange lights flanked the road at Lazuli's edge. Turek glanced at them as he pa.s.sed but didn't stop-wonders were bound to be common in a village where Shadows could be destroyed with ease, and he would perhaps have the chance later to study them. For the moment his main problem was how to locate Javan.

He'd taken barely ten more steps before the problem found its own solution.

From alcoves on both sides of the street three youths materialized, fighting sticks held ready in their hands.

"Greetings, stranger," one of them said in a neutral tone. "What brings you to Lazuli after dark?"

"I can't change the time the sun sets," Turek answered mildly, studying the three. None wore the usual sun-shaped pin, but Turek didn't need such obvious clues. The air of naive idealism around them was almost thick enough to smell.

"And where I was raised young men are more polite to their elders."

His challenger scowled. "Then you weren't raised near a band of thieves.

Please state your business."

"I'm here to see Javan the Mindlight Master."

The others moved fractionally closer; their fighting sticks s.h.i.+fted a few inches toward defense stance. Turek kept his eyes on the spokesman and his hands at his sides. "Are you a friend of his?" the other asked.

Turek permitted the ghost of a smile to briefly touch his lips. "Not especially-but neither am I especially his enemy. Tell him Turek is here; he may remember me."

For a long moment the youth searched Turek's face. Then he nodded curtly.

"All right. Come with me."

The other two guards faded back into their alcoves as the leader pointed Turek ahead and they set off down the street. For all of the boy's obvious idealism, Turek had to admit he wasn't stupid: he stayed a few feet to the side and slightly behind the Shadow Warrior the whole way.

Their path led to an inn, through the bustling and brightly lit common room, and to a small guest room at the building's rear. "I'll be back soon; don't try to leave," were his guide's last words as the door closed behind him.And now would come the long wait. Sighing, Turek looked around him. Even in Lazuli straw-filled beds and contour chairs hadn't yet given way to something more advanced. But on the candle shelf jutting from one wall was something that looked like a smaller version of the streetlights. Sliding his pack onto the floor, he walked over to the odd device.

He had not yet figured out exactly how it worked when the door opened again behind him and three men stepped into the room. Two were youths of the type Turek had already met, and they looked wary. The third was Javan.

"Good evening," Javan said as he took a couple of steps into the room and stopped. "You wished to see me?"

Turek moved away from the light and faced the other. "Yes." He paused, studying Javan's face. Twelve years had put a lot of lines there, and already his brown hair was beginning to gray at the temples; but he still had the clear eyes appropriate to a self-appointed deliverer of mankind.

"What about?" one of the youths put in, suspicion in his voice.

Turek kept his eyes on Javan. "You don't recognize me, do you?" he said.

"Perhaps this will help." Moving his hands slowly, he dropped the blanket from his shoulders.

Javan's reaction to the blue cloak was disappointing: no gasps or widened eyes, but only a feint smile as recognition came. "Ah, yes. Master Turek. It's been a long time since your challenge at Akkad."

"Twelve years. What I have to say is private."

Javan's eyes were coolly measuring. "Very well. Rensh, Streen-wait for me outside, please."

Neither of the youths looked happy at leaving their leader alone, but they left without argument or even comment. Javan indicated the chairs. "Shall we sit down?"

"Go ahead. I prefer to stand." Actually, Turek had little choice in the matter; the sword belted tightly to his side made sitting impossible. "This won't take long."

"Then I'll stand, too," Javan said agreeably. "What was so important that you came all the way from Keilberg to talk to me?"

"I haven't come from Keilberg, exactly. For the time being I'm living in Masard."

Javan's eyes narrowed slightly. "So Krain's hired you, has he? I'd heard that he was trying to enlist Shadow Warriors for some unknown purpose.""You don't know his plan, then?"

"Only that it's probably directed against Lazuli-and that it involves midnight thefts of our metals."

Turek was a bit taken aback at the touch of bitterness in Javan's voice. It told him something about how precious the metal was-and, hence, how hard it must be to make. "It involves your metal, all right," he told the Mindlight Master. "Krain plans to attack Lazuli with weapons made from it."

For a moment Javan was silent, a look of disbelief on his face. Krain, Turek reflected, had kept his secret well. "I don't believe it," Javan said at last. "You're talking about actual warfare. Why? What would he gain?"

"Lazuli's more advanced technology, for one thing-"

"It would be useless to him. The things we make draw Shadow far too quickly for him to use them, even if he's hired twenty Shadow Warriors."

"You're not thinking. Once he has Lazuli he'll also have you-plus all your young Mindlight Masters."

"We won't work for him." Javan's disbelief had become a cold anger. "We'll let Shadow swallow Lazuli forever before we'll work for a warmaker."

"Indeed. And if Krain threatens to kill you all, one by one? Or holds your families as guarantees of your cooperation?" Turek shook his head. "No, you'll work for him. Enough of you will, anyway, if he takes Lazuli."

"Then he must not be allowed to do so. How many men does he have?"

"Three hundred, armed with-"

"Three hundred? Three?" The relief in Javan's voice was unmistakable.

"Master Turek, Lazuli can easily raise five hundred men to oppose him-possibly six hundred."

"That's nice. But it's not enough. Perhaps you'd like to see what you'll be fighting?" Without waiting for an answer, Turek threw back his cloak and slid his sword from concealment. Its blade flashed eerily in the candleless light.

Turek had half-expected Javan to shout for his waiting guards, or at least make a run for the door. But he'd underestimated either the others courage or his trust. Javan didn't even take a step backwards; his eyes, watching the blade, were unreadable. Reversing the sword, Turek proffered the hilt. "Here-examine it yourself."

Gingerly, Javan took the weapon. He tested the edge, ran his fingers along the blade, and took a couple of practice swings. Then, his expression cold, he looked at Turek. "And you freely work for a man like that-a man who makes these?"

Turek shrugged, hiding his sudden uneasiness. The sword tip was pointed at his stomach, and Javan's knuckles showed white. "None of this is my fault, Javan.

Your Mindlight technique and fancy metal are what made it possible. Don't blame me for trying to earn a living in the progressive age you've ushered in."

Slowly, the sword dipped until it pointed at the floor. Then, with a sigh, Javan held it out. Turek took the hilt and again fastened the weapon at his side. "I think you understand the threat a bit better now," the Shadow Warrior said as he resettled his cloak.

"Why did you come here tonight?" Javan's voice was flat, and for a moment Turek felt sorry for him. To recognize that you yourself had started the series of events that pointed to your own destruction... Turek knew how painful that could be. "Are you supposed to convince me to surrender?"

Turek shook his head. "I'm not 'supposed' to do anything. I'm here on my own initiative, to show you what you're up against and to show you the only way out."

He pointed in the direction of the road. "Leave. Now. Pack up your school and students and get out of Lazuli before Krain blockades the village."

"And leave the residents to face him alone? I can't do that."

"Sure you can. You said yourself that Lazuli's technology would be useless without you. If you leave, attacking Lazuli would be a waste of effort."

"You don't know that. There are old rivalries between Lazuli and Masard- Krain may find sufficient motivation in that. Besides"-he smiled wryly-"do you really imagine he would go to all the effort to raise and equip an army and not use it somewhere? His authority could never survive such a humiliation."

Turek hadn't thought of that. "It's still your best chance," he muttered.

"Perhaps. But there's a higher principle to consider. Lazuli risked a great deal to let us set up our school here before we were generally accepted. If we pull out and leave in time of danger, who would take us in again?"

Turek snorted. "What's the matter-is a more nomadic life too much like the way we used to live?"

Javan didn't take offense. "The number of students would grow too slowly.

You see, Master Turek, the only way Vesper will ever truly advance will be if almost everyone has at least some ability to destroy Shadow. The Mindlight technique is relatively easy to learn-but we have to become an established part of Vesperian society to attract that many people to our cla.s.ses. We can't do that if we're dispersed or off in our own community somewhere. No. We'll stay in Lazuli and fight."

For a moment the two men gazed at each other in silence. Then Turek stooped down and retrieved his blanket, draping it again over his shoulders, and picked up his pack. "I didn't expect you to be reasonable," he said tiredly, "but I had to try. I'd appreciate it if you and your friends outside would keep quiet about my visit.

Krain might not be happy with me if he found out."

"You're going back to him?"

"Of course-he's hired me. Besides, he's got enough Shadow Warriors to handle things even if I left." Turek gestured toward the light. "Before I go, would you mind telling me how that works?"

"There's an absorbent wick that rests in a pool of something called alcohol, which we can get from plant leaves and stems. It burns cleaner than candles and has other advantages, too."

"Progress." Turek nodded. "A good thing... usually." He tapped the sword beneath his cloak. "Perhaps it's time you and your people started considering the disadvantages, too."

Javan stepped to the door and grasped the handle. "Thank you for coming, Master Turek. I'll walk you back to the road."

"Don't bother; I can find my own way. You've got more important things to do with the time you have left." Brus.h.i.+ng past him, Turek pushed open the door and strode out into the noise of the inn.

Outside, he started back toward the road-but only long enough to make sure he wasn't being followed. Changing direction, he made for the river, moving upstream toward the cliff face that formed Lazuli's northern edge. His task there took only a few minutes.

Two hours later he was back in his room in Krain's house, sleeping like a dead man. Around the stolen sword, hidden once more under his mattress, new Shadows formed, troubling Turek's dreams.

The next few days were hectic ones for Krain's soldiers and planners, but for Turek they were relatively uneventful. His time was spent clearing out Shadows from the training area, the smithy, and the stored swords. The latter, especially, seemed to have wound up as his own personal ch.o.r.e; Brisher and the others never seemed to go near the shed anymore. Clearly, at least one of them must have been clearing the Shadows from it before Turek arrived, and he could only speculate that perhaps they had acquired so much distaste for the weapons that they were perfectly willing to dump as much of the burden onto the newcomer as he was willing to take. Whatever the reason, the situation suited Turek just fine, giving him that many more chances to study the weaponry.

At first he was surprised to find that his earlier theft seemed to have gone unnoticed; but on second thought it seemed less than remarkable. After all, no one would be periodically counting the weapons while they were all under guard together. The loss would be discovered eventually, of course, but Turek wasn't worried about it.

Krain had said it would take a week to finish his preparations, but his estimate turned out to have been on the cautious side. Less than four days after Turek's arrival at Masard the last sword was finished.

And at dawn on the fifth day the residents of Lazuli awoke to find an army encamped against them.

The setting sun was throwing long shadows across the camp as Turek made his way up the low hill to where Krain's command tent had been set up. Behind him the hum of conversation and laughter was dying down as most of the army prepared for sleep; beyond the camp, if Turek cared to look, were twin picket lines stretched between river and cliffs to guard against a sortie; and a quarter mile beyond that were barricades Lazuli had erected. Even an untrained fighter like Turek could see the barricades wouldn't do much good.

Krain and Pakstin were sitting outside the command tent, talking quietly, when Turek arrived. "You wanted to see me?" the Shadow Warrior asked.

"Yes." Krain gave him a cool look. "Will the weapons be ready by dawn tomorrow?"

"No problem." Except for the swords the twenty men on picket and guard duty were carrying, all the weapons were stored together in a tent at the center of camp. "Brisher, Spard, and I will be clearing out the Shadow every hour or two throughout the night, and Rusten will do it again one final time right before you attack. The men will be able to fight for hours after that before the Shadows grow large enough to affect them significantly."

"So you say. Tell me, did you by any chance walk off with one of the swords while they were back in Masard?"

Turek nodded. "Yes. Why?"

His casual admission seemed to surprise the other. But he recovered quickly.

"Why did you take it?"

"To study, and to defend myself with if necessary. Or hadn't it occurred to you that Javan could ruin your plan instantly simply by killing the four of us?"

Judging from Krain's expression, the thought hadn't occurred to him. "Well...

you should be safe enough in camp."

"At least until dawn. You are attacking then, aren't you?""The village has refused to surrender." Pakstin shrugged. "It's on their own heads."

"True." Turek looked at Krain. "Was there anything else?"

"No, I suppose not. Just make sure the swords are ready an hour before dawn."

"They will be." Nodding, Turek left, heading back downhill and into the camp.

But he didn't stay long. As soon as the darkness was complete he discarded his cloak and changed into dark, close-fitting clothing. Several large wicker baskets of the type used for carrying grain were lying empty by the storage tent; picking one up, he stole between the silent tents toward the river.

The cataracts and rapids that turned the river into a boiling torrent at Lazuli vanished a short distance south of the village, leaving a current that was swift but pa.s.sable. Four small boats, evidently used by Lazulian fishermen, were drawn up on the gra.s.s a short way below the encampment. Taking a few minutes first to clear away the Shadow that had gathered around it, Turek got into one of the craft and began to paddle.

He arrived on the opposite bank a good deal farther downstream, and for what seemed like a short eternity he waded s.h.i.+n-deep in the icy water, towing the boat toward Lazuli. The current got progressively stronger, and it was with aching arms that he finally beached the craft, pulling it ash.o.r.e at the base of the rocks where the rapids ended. Moving cautiously on the moss-slick stones bordering the river, he proceeded uphill, basket clutched awkwardly in one hand. It was hazardous going, and more than once he nearly fell into the water, where a reasonably certain death would have awaited him. But he made it, and at last stood just below the northern cliff face, looking across the river at Lazuli's northern end.

A thin cloud cover was obscuring the stars, leaving him only the dim light of Lazuli's lamps; but even so, it took him only a few minutes to find the fist-sized rock he'd thrown across when he'd visited the village several nights earlier.

Untying the rope from around it, he pulled carefully on the line, hoping its long immersion among the rocks hadn't snagged it on anything. Luck was with him; not only did the rope come easily free, but a cautious tug showed that the other end was still secure around the boulder where he'd tied it. When he'd first set up this backdoor approach into Lazuli, Turek had had only the vaguest idea what he would use it for; now everything depended on this thin, waterlogged line. Stepping a few feet downhill, he pulled the line taut and, after first running it through the handles on his basket, fastened it to a thick tree root. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the rope and stepped carefully into the river.

He got three steps before the current knocked his feet out from under him, plunging him up to his chest in the icy water. Gasping with the shock, he nevertheless managed to hang onto the rope, and after a couple of false starts he managed to stand up again. He slipped twice in the next ten feet, but after that he seemed to get the hang of it and only fell once more before staggering up the opposite bank. For a moment he lay among the rocks, getting his breath back.

Then, s.h.i.+vering violently in the night wind, he moved down toward Lazuli.

The afterimage method for locating Shadows was useless in such dim light, but even so Turek had no trouble locating the metalworking center at the village's northeast corner. The psychic light of Javan's Mindlight technique was visible to him from there, flas.h.i.+ng every few minutes in a faint glow that indicated Turek's old sensitivity to it had faded somewhat. At least he hoped it had.... Loosening the sword in his sash, he moved silently toward the glow.

Clearly, no one in Lazuli was expecting any trouble at the metalworking area.