The Shattered Stone Page 8

  Swords in hands, Ivo and Liall looked around. There was nothing else, nothing that moved.

  “Well?” said Neva.

  “There doesn’t seem to be anything here,” said Ivo.

  “Then I’m coming up, too.”

  Again Ivo looked around, then sheathing his sword, he held out his hand to her. As he drew her up beside him, he heard Liall gasp and, turning, felt his heart leap, then clench with fear. A monster had appeared from behind one of the large rocks on the far side of the plateau and was glaring at them.

  It was a creature out of a nightmare: many times the size of a horse with three heads and a greenish body covered with scales. It had batlike wings and its talons were sharp and hooked; they scraped on the rock as it launched itself at them, jaws agape.

  Without thinking and without knowing why he did it, Ivo turned sideways, raising his left fist threateningly and swinging his right hand back with the forefinger pointing down. The monster had begun a rumbling roar as it came towards them, but now that changed to a hoarse scream. Extending its wings, it rose into the air, passing just over their heads, then wheeled and flew off towards the south.

  Ivo remained rigid, aware that Neva had taken the same stance he had, until the monster disappeared in the distance.

  Liall, standing between them, was the first to move or make a sound. He let out his breath in a long sigh.

  “It seems to be gone,” he said. “Will it come back?”

  “No,” said Neva.

  Liall looked at her and then at Ivo, and it was clear that he wanted to ask her how she knew and how both of them had known what to do. But he didn’t. And it was just as well, because Ivo would not have been able to answer and he didn’t think Neva could either.

  Chapter 9

  “Where is the stone?” asked Neva.

  “I think over there,” said Ivo.

  For a moment none of them moved, held back—not by fear—but by a feeling of awe. For this was something out of time—set there they did not know when or by whom—that they hoped would speak to them from the distant past. More than that, if it had a message for them then this quest of theirs must have been forseen, and they suddenly had a sense that everything they had done and hoped to do was part of a larger pattern that they could not as yet begin to understand.

  Slowly, aware of what was at stake, they picked their way between the rocks that lay about the plateau and looked down at the stone. As Ivo had thought when he had first caught a glimpse of it, the rock had clearly been shaped by human hands. It was a stele or tablet about four feet long and two feet wide and about four inches thick with a rounded top. The base on which it had stood was of the same black stone. And though both were time-worn and weathered, it seemed probable that the whole had not fallen but had been struck down, for it was split vertically, there was a piece missing from the top and the bottom was completely shattered. What was dismaying about it, however, was that the stone was smooth and blank.

  “Perhaps this is the back,” said Liall. “Let’s turn it over.”

  Lifting each half separately and carefully, they turned them over and fitted them together again. And there was something on the other side; a bas-relief at the top and what seemed to be an inscription below it.

  There were three figures in the bas-relief. Though worn by the scouring wind, two of them seemed to be a man and a woman, both naked, holding hands. Behind and above them stood a third robed figure with hands extended over their heads as if in blessing. It was hard to tell if this was a man or a woman, for this part of the stone was broken, but Ivo had a feeling that it was a woman.

  “Do you know who they are, Liall?” asked Neva.

  “No. I had never heard of the stone before this quest was given to us. And all I know about Tarec is that none are supposed to come here, for it was from here that Kennar, who founded Andor, had his first sight of the land.”

  “Perhaps this is Kennar,” said Ivo, pointing to the naked man.

  “Perhaps,” said Liall.

  They now looked at the inscription that was sharper and clearer than the three figures, but even more puzzling. For the characters were not those used in the Common speech but they did not seem to be those of the Tree alphabet either.

  “Can you make it out, Neva?” asked Ivo.

  “No.”

  “They seem to be runes,” said Liall. “If they are and we cannot read them, then we have made this journey for nothing.”

  There was a sudden flapping behind them and they turned, thinking it was Akala. But it was not. It was a gore-crow, larger than any they had seen on the dead horses in the Burnt Place. It had settled on one of the large rocks and was watching them with sharp, beady eyes.

  “What is it doing here?” asked Liall.

  “Perhaps it lives here,” said Ivo.

  “Crows do not nest this high nor in rocky places like this,” said Liall. He studied it uneasily. “Can you talk to it, Neva?”

  She looked fixedly at the crow as she had at Akala, and it stared back at her. Finally she shook her head.

  “I think it understood me, but it would not answer.”

  “Well, it cannot harm us,” said Ivo. “But what shall we do about the inscription?”

  “If we copied it we might find someone who could read it,” said Liall.

  “Who?” asked Ivo.

  “Zothar, High Steward of Andor, is very wise and learned in ancient lore. If anyone can read it, he can.”

  “Wait,” said Neva who had been frowning at the inscription. “Ivo, give me your sword.”

  He glanced at her, puzzled, then drew it and gave it to her. She held it out over the stone, looking—not at the stone itself—but at its reflection in the bright blade. Ivo leaned forward, looking at it too, then said, “It is in the Tree alphabet!”

  “Yes,” said Neva. “I thought that it looked familiar except that the characters slanted the wrong way. It’s reversed, as if written in a mirror.”

  “Then you can read it?” said Liall.

  “I think so.” She adjusted the angle, looking at the reflection of the characters in the steel. “‘Andor and Brunn,’” she said slowly, “‘shall again be one when Ima …’” and she paused.

  “Ima what?” asked Liall.

  “There’s a gap there,” said Neva. “Something’s missing. The next word is ‘marries.’ Then the rest is missing, too.”

  “‘Andor and Brunn shall again be one,’” said Liall, “‘when Ima something marries something.’”

  “That’s right,” said Ivo. “Does that mean anything to you?”

  “No,” said Liall. “It is said that once, many centuries ago, Andor and Brunn were one land under one king. But beyond that I know nothing.”

  “Not even who Ima is?” asked Neva.

  “No.”

  “The missing pieces of the stone must still be here,” said Ivo. “If we can find them and fit them in that might help us to understand what it means.”

  “It might,” said Liall.

  Neva gave Ivo back his sword and all three of them began hunting through the fragments of rock that lay about the shattered stone. They found several shards that had been broken from it, but they were all part of the back or sides and had no characters on them.

  “Could they be underneath the stone?” asked Neva. “After all, we moved it.”

  “That’s true,” said Liall.

  Together they slid the broken pieces of the stone aside and went on looking.

  “Wait,” said Ivo, spying a flat, black flake, a little smaller than his hand, that was lying in a crack. “I think …”

  He reached for it. And as he did the gore-crow dropped from the rock on which it had been sitting, seized the fragment in its beak and flapped off with it.

  “Hoy!” shouted Ivo angrily. “Come back here!” And picking up a stone he threw it at the bird. But the crow dodged and continued, flying southeast.

  “I knew I did not like it,” said Liall. “What do we do now?
”

  “I don’t know,” said Ivo, staring after the bird. “I’m sure it was one of the pieces we wanted. There were characters on it and …”

  He broke off as Neva, looking up, screamed shrilly as she had before. In a few moments Akala, who had been flying so high above them that he was invisible, came diving down. When he was a score of yards over their heads, he began circling while Neva again spoke soundlessly to him, then he flew off towards the southeast also.

  “What did you say to him?” asked Liall.

  “I asked him to follow the crow and, if he could, take the stone from him. If not, to tell us where he went and what he did with it.”

  “I can’t say I liked climbing to his nest before,” said Liall, “but from now on I shall never question any request you may make. Is there anything we can do while we wait?”

  “There were two fragments of the stone missing,” said Ivo. “We should make sure we haven’t overlooked the other one.”

  And so they searched again, combing the rocky surface of the plateau, not only around the broken stone and its base, but over a wider area. But they found nothing.

  Then Akala returned, slanting down from on high and settling with outstretched wings on the same rock on which the gore-crow had sat when he was watching them.

  He fixed his fierce eye on Neva, and she returned his gaze.

  “What does he say?” asked Ivo.

  “He could not catch the crow and take the stone from him, but he saw where he went.”

  “Where?”

  “To a walled city with many towers near a wide river.”

  “That would be Lantar,” said Liall with some excitement. “Where in the city did he go?”

  “He does not know. But he was almost on him when they reached the city and the crow, trying to avoid him, flew low over a courtyard with a fountain and dropped the stone. And a man picked it up; a tall man in a dark robe.”

  “Did he have a beard?”

  “Yes. A short grey beard.”

  “Zothar!” said Liall. “If it was he, then all is well. For he will give it to us if we ask him for it.”

  “Then you think we should go to this Lantar of yours?”

  “If we want to find out what the missing words in the inscription are, yes.”

  “I do not know how that will help us,” said Neva. “Even if he gets that piece there is still another one missing.”

  Though she spoke quietly, there was a note of despair in her voice that made Liall look at her sharply.

  “But it will tell us something,” he said. “Are you thinking of the journey back across Morven?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then what is it?”

  She shrugged and Ivo said, “You suggested—and we both hoped—that if we found the stone the spell might be lifted. But it has not been.”

  “You still remember nothing?”

  “No more than I did on the heath. Do you, Neva?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Liall. “To me, of course, you are what you have always been.”

  “And what is that?” she asked in the same flat, hopeless voice. “How can I be anything when I don’t know who or what I was? I feel I am nothing, no one.”

  “Neva,” said Ivo. He put an arm around her, and this time she did not pull away from him but leaned against him.

  “I still think that the spell has some connection with our quest,” said Liall. “And if that is so, then could it not be that it will not be lifted until we have read and understood what was written on the stone?”

  “That might well be,” said Ivo.

  “I suppose it might,” said Neva with an effort. “In any case, if we have nothing else, we have the task that was given us. So we will go to Lantar with you.”

  “Good,” said Liall. “As for Morven, I have a thought. There are marshes south of the hills, the ones Harnac spoke of. If Akala can guide us across them, we will not have to go back the way we came.”

  “I’ll ask him,” said Neva. She turned to the eagle once more. “He says he will. He’ll be watching, and he’ll meet us when we’re at the marshes.”

  Akala spread his wings and flew off. They went to the edge of the plateau and stood there for a few moments looking about them. East, beyond the lower peaks of the hills, was Morven, its sand gleaming white in the noonday sun. North were the plains of Brunn, stretching league after league till they met the faint, shimmering blue that was the sea. South was Andor, its plains more rolling than those of Brunn with a range of snow capped mountains behind them. It was there, Liall told them, that the River Mendir rose, winding across the plain until it reached the hills and was lost in the marshes just below them.

  “How far is it to Lantar?” asked Ivo.

  “About three days by foot,” said Liall. “Too far to see from here. It lies there where the Mendir curves due south.”

  They looked where he was pointing, and it was true. They could see nothing but the green plains that blended with the sky in the distance. Then they started their descent. The force that had made every step of their climb up Tarec so difficult did not seem to affect them now, and they worked their way slowly and carefully down the steep upper slopes, going back through the fault in the cliff and then turning south. The hills were not quite as rocky here as they were to the east, and by dusk they had reached the foot of the hills, and the Mendir Marshes were ahead of them.

  They camped that night near a stream that came down from the hills and emptied into the marshes. In the morning they looked out over the green expanse that was dotted with reed-fringed pools.

  “You think we can cross that?” asked Ivo dubiously.

  “Akala seemed to think we could,” said Neva. “In any case, I would rather try it than go into the desert again.”

  “Very well,” said Ivo, remembering what had happened there. “Where is Akala?”

  “He’s coming,” said Neva. “There.” And she nodded to where the great bird was descending in wide circles. He soared overhead for a moment, then flew off to the right.

  “This way,” said Neva, and they set off along the edge of the marshes. About a quarter of a mile farther on, they came to a point that ran out towards the center of the marshes. The ground was firm here, though there were rushes on both sides of it and large areas of evil-smelling mud. There was open water at the end of the point but beyond that there was even higher ground; an island on which swamp oak and alder grew. It was perhaps fifty yards away but what could be seen of the bottom was sandy rather than muddy and appeared to be safe enough. Ivo insisted on going first and found that he could wade across easily enough though in one place the water came up to his waist.

  Neva and Liall joined him and when they had forced their way through the trees and brush of the island to the far side, they found Akala waiting for them, hovering overhead on outstretched wings. Again he pointed out the best routes to them, and so, wading from island to island and in only one place finding it necessary to swim, they made their way across the marshes, reaching the other side shortly after noon.

  Akala circled above them once more. They waved their thanks and farewell to him, and then he flew off over the marsh and back towards his eyrie on the cliff below Tarec.

  They sat for a while on the bank at the edge of the marshes, eating the last of the dried fruit that they had in their baskets and letting their clothes dry in the warm sun. Then they began their march eastward over the rolling plain.

  “You say that it will take us three days to get to Lantar?” said Ivo.

  “A bit less than that from here,” said Liall. “Why?”

  “I’m not sure we have enough of the faring-bread to last us until then.”

  “We’re not in Morven now,” said Liall. “We’re in Andor. We’re sure to come on a farm or cattle-herder’s stead, if not by nightfall, then sometime tomorrow.”

  “We may not have to wait until then to meet someone,” said Neva. “Aren’t those horses?”

>   Ivo and Liall shaded their eyes, looking in the direction she was pointing; a little south of west.

  “Yes!” said Liall. Taking his cloak from his basket, he flourished it, swinging it high in the air, and at once the horsemen in the distance changed their direction and came galloping towards them.

  There were half a dozen of them, all warriors, for even at a distance Ivo could see the gleam of their helmets, byrnies and bucklers. When they were close enough, he saw that their leader was only a little older than Liall; a broad-shouldered, brown-haired young man.

  “Gildar!” called Liall as the horsemen drew up before them.

  The young warrior stared at him. Then, with a shout, he leaped from his saddle.

  “Prince!” he said, sinking to one knee. “This is as joyous and unexpected a sight as any I ever did see! You are alive then?”

  “Not only alive, but well. Nay, kneel not to me.” And he lifted him to his feet and embraced him.

  “But how is that possible?” asked Gildar. “One of Rendel’s men brought word that you had been struck down, and it was thought, if you were not slain, that you were a captive in Brunn.”

  “It is possible because my two friends here saved me,” said Liall. “But what do you in these parts, so far from Lantar?”

  “I rode here to raise a levy among the horsemen of Westfell.”

  “A levy? For a war gathering?”

  “What else after what happened—or what the king thought had happened—at the border?”

  “So,” said Liall turning a troubled face to Neva and Ivo, “while we were searching for a way to bring peace to Andor and Brunn, swords were being sharpened.” He turned back to Gildar. “We must get to Lantar as soon as possible. Do you have three horses that can carry double?”

  “All of them can,” said Gildar. “But they will not have to do so for long. There is a farm less than a league from here. We can get horses for you there.”

  “Then let us ride,” said Liall. Gildar held the stirrup while Liall mounted, then swung up behind him. Two of the other horsemen took up Neva and Ivo and they went galloping off eastward.