The Tritonian Ring and Other Pasudian Tales Read Free Page B

all?"
     
                  "That is all."
     
                  Ryn spoke again in his archaic speech, and the phantom of the witch turned to mere smoke which wafted about making the spectators sneeze. Ryn took a burning stick from the fire and relighted the lamps.
     
                  Vakar viewed Gra's message with mixed feelings. If the very gods feared the thing that she had spoken of, what business had a mere mortal pursuing it? On the other hand he had never been to the mainland and had long wished to travel. While Lorsk was a fine rich land, the real centers of culture and wisdom lay eastward: Sederado with its philosophers, Torrutseish with its wizards, and who knew what other ancient cities?
     
                  Kuros said sourly: "If we were fools enough to believe that harridan—"
     
                  Vakar interrupted: "Brother, since you always seem so eager to discredit warnings against the Gorgons, could you have a motive other than simple skepticism?"
     
                  "What do you mean, sir?"
     
                  "Such as—let's say a tittle present from King Zeluud?"
     
                  Kuros jumped up, reaching for his knife. "Are you calling me traitor?" he yelled. "I'll carve the word on your liver ... "
     
                  Ryn the magician reached up to seize Kuros's arms while King Zhabutir laid a hand on Vakar's shoulder as the latter, too, started to rise. When they had pacified the furious Kuros he sat down, snarling:
     
                  "All that effeminate bastard does is to stir up trouble and enmity amongst us. He hates me because he knows if the gods hadn't fumbled, I should be heir and not he. If we followed the sensible mainland custom of primogeniture …"
     
                  Before Vakar could think of a crashing reply, Ryn spoke: "My lords, let's sink our present differences until the matter of the foreign threat be resolved. Whatever you think of Gra or Söl, I've had confirmation of their tale."
     
                  "What?" said the king.
     
                  "Last night I dreamt I stood before the gods of Poseidonis: Lyr and Tandyla and Okma and the rest. As usual I asked if they had advice for Lorsk."
     
                  "What did they say?" asked Kuros.
     
                  'Nothing; but it was the manner of their saying it. They turned away their eyes and faces as if ashamed of their silence. And I recalled where I'd seen that expression. Many decades ago, when I was a young fellow studying magic in mighty Torrutseish—"
     
                  "Gods, he's off on another of those!" muttered Kuros.
     
                  "—and one of my friends, an Ogugian youth named Joathio, got excited at a bullfight and made indiscreet remarks about the city prefect. Next day (though the remarks had been nothing dreadful) he disappeared. I asked after him at the headquarters of the municipal troop, and those tough soldiers turned away from me with that same expression. Later I found Joathio's head on a spoke over the main gate. Not a pretty sight for one still young and soft of soul, heh-heh.
     
                  "I therefore infer something's impending in the world of the gods, unfavorable to us, against which our own gods are for some reason forbidden to warn us. In view of Söl's news it could well be a Gorgonian invasion. Therefore let's send Prince Vakar on his quest. If he fails—"
     
                  "Which he will," put in Kuros.
     
                  "—no harm will be done, whereas if he succeeds he may save us from an unknown doom."
     
                  King Zhabutir said: "But the gods—how can we oppose them?"
     
                  Vakar said: "It were cowardly to give up before the first has even begun, merely because we might face odds.