The Limbreth Gate

‘Vandien?’ she called questioningly. She lifted her lantern high. Its light touched slender grey treetrunks. Trees? The North Gate had entered the city from a barren plain of yellow grass. But she had forgotten how old Jojorum was. Had not she heard that it had once been fabled for its gardens? Perhaps these were they, long untended and come back to dominance. At least the road remained good. Moss crept in soft tongues across it, but it was flat and straight, not buckled nor heaved with age. Her wagon rolled silently behind her, the hoofbeats of her team cushioned now by moss. There was moisture in the air, and peace. The very night seemed less dark around her.

So where in hell was Vandien? Even if he were lying senseless by the road, his horse should have whinnied to her team. If they had left him his horse. ‘Whoa!’ The team stood. ‘Vandien!’ Her worried voice sounded shrill in the friendly night, muffled by the peace. She walked around her wagon, back toward the Gate. Perhaps the Keeper could tell her something of Vandien.

The Gate was a fiery rectangle against the darkness, its brightness obscuring all else. Ki felt her eyes water as she stared at it, and she was finally forced to turn her eyes aside. ‘Gatekeeper!’ she cried. ‘The man who told you to watch for me; where is he? She risked a glance at the glowing Gate. The Keeper was a darker huddle in the center.

‘Go down the road.’ His voice was fainter than the distance explained. ‘Just follow the road toward the lights on the horizon.’

Ki swung her eyes away from the Keeper and Gate again. It had not seemed so bright from the city side. She focused her eyes on the black ground, letting them readjust to the darkness. Her own small lantern seemed dim after the Gate. It was as she was looking down to let her eyes clear that she saw the tracks of a single horse, its hoofprints cut in the moss and all but obscured by the heavy marks of her team. Ki moved back to the front of her team and walked slowly down the road. No sign was on the road itself, but here and there were marks that cut right through the moss to the road’s black surface. The horse was heavy with a rider, and the rider had been in a hurry. Well, at least he had shown that much sense. She was glad he had gotten clear of the city before waiting for her. The farther they were from the Gates, the less likely that Rousters would bother them. She felt relief that he was healthy enough to ride, and annoyance that she had been so worried.

She clucked to her team and they came on again behind her. If she had not had Vandien to fret over, it would have been a pleasant stroll down a silent road by night. The soft moss that cushioned the road was kind to her feet. The cool breeze stroked her face. She swung her lantern beside her, flinging light ahead to stretch over the hoofmarks she followed.

Ki paused. After a moment of hesitation, she snuffed her lantern. She had been right. Away from the suffocating walls of the city and its dark old buildings, the night had become a friendlier place. There was enough light to see by, though the sky had become overcast. Enough to drive by? She shrugged and halted the team to clamber up onto the box. She took up the reins and slapped them on the wide grey backs.

The road ran straight and true before them, slicing through the forest as cleanly as a knife. The moss that coated the road seemed tipped with silver, making it a long ribbon that ran away from Ki, dwindling to a thread in the distance. Gone were the familiar jerks and jounces of potholes and gullied roadbeds. The wagon moved on in near silence, smooth as a ship cutting through water.

The forest cupped her in its hands. Friendly night trees leaned over her road in a near arch. Luminous white blossoms decked them, filling the dark with a sweetly elusive scent. At intervals the forest drew back from the road, to give Ki a view of a pasture, with a small cottage at the back of it, or just a patch of wild meadow. Some pastures seemed to be tilled and bearing crops. No lights showed in the cottages.

Twice Ki halted and checked the road, to find the hoofprints still leading her on. Each time some small discomfort nibbled at the back of her mind, but the glow of the Cinmeth warmed it away. If she took a deep breath of the night air, she could taste its spiciness still. For a moment she idly wished she’d had the foresight to bring some along. But then she contented herself with the cool night air. Reassurance grew in her slowly. If Vandien had ridden this far, he was most likely not injured at all. Perhaps they had only shaken him up; or perhaps his glib tongue had slid him past trouble. If that was his case, as seemed more and more likely to her, then he had gone ahead to find a good stopping place for the wagon. She’d come upon him at any moment.

Or, and she frowned in amused tolerance, he had trusted to his message to bring her after him, and had ridden ahead. He did that often enough when the ponderous movement of her slow-rolling wagon became more than his short patience could bear. It was not unusual for him to be gone a day or a week when the need for solitary exploring hit him. Ki did not resent it. She would welcome a rest from his sharp tongue and restless ways.

She let herself slip into a waking dream. The wagon rolled on through the night. Ki floated through a dream on a sweet wind tinged with flower breath and Cinmeth. The wide pastures that spread in sudden clearings in the forest shone dark green. The sky behind a cover of clouds shone like opal through smoke along the horizon.

Ki lost all track of time. Could the glow ahead be dawn? No, it didn’t feel like dawn. There was no hushed expectancy, no last calls of night birds. There was only the peace of the settled night. But there was a definite glow along the far horizon. The glow was gentle and even, speckled here and there with points of blue and green and red. Ki rubbed at her eyes, wondering if the specks were only fatigue. They remained above the hilltops, steady and unmoving. She was distracted from them by the diminishing thunder of some small hooved beasts.

She pulled herself up straight on the wagon seat and shook the reins slightly. But in a moment she was slumping again. The harmony of the night drew her in and comforted her. It was like slipping into a sleep when freshly bathed and between soft warm blankets. She could not resist it. ‘I drank too much,’ she chided herself, but found no regrets now. Her worries over Vandien settled like chickens gone to roost. The peace of the clean open country settled over her aching body and soul. The night soaked into her. Ancient anguished memories within her lay down, and the sweetness of those times came to her instead of the bitterness. Pieces of herself she had thought long dead turned over in their sleep and murmured promises to reawaken someday. Her thoughts touched Vandien gently, and she suddenly felt pain that she spoke to him so seldom of what she so often felt. In a haze of sentimentality, she promised to change all that. ‘From now on,’ she promised him solemnly, ‘I shall match you drink for drink. I see now why you do it.’

Far ahead she made out the twisting silver of a rivulet that crossed the road. There was the dark shape of a bridge, wrought with a skill that surpassed any Ki had ever seen, and the wonder of it did not diminish as she drew near, but increased. It arched extravagantly to cross the small water, far beyond need of its span, and ornate parapets graced it. Ki could imagine that some being had spent its entire life to achieve that bridge, to express in solidity the joy it had felt in the land and the water.

She had already decided to stop by the bridge for the rest of the night, but she crossed it for the sheer pleasure of feeling how well the wagon took it. On the far side of the bridge, she guided her team off the silvery road and onto the dark soft turf. Even in the dark, her fingers seemed to fly over the buckles of the harness, accomplishing with ease what was usually the last trial of the day. Sigmund walked about with dignity, whiffling at the new grass. Sigurd dropped ponderously to his knees and rolled with all the abandon of a colt.

Ki smiled at his foolishness and resisted the temptation to join him. Instead she seated herself next to the wagon on the cushiony turf and leaned back against the wheel. Within her she felt no need for a fire, or the warmth of her sleeping skins. She ran her hands gently over the ground at her side. Short soft-leaved plants were thick on it, and replete with round plump berries. She plucked one and held it up against the undark sky. It was black, but might have been purple or blue in the light of day. She garnered a handful of them from the grass beside her and filled her mouth with the fruit. They were sweet and juicy, and as warm as if the afternoon sun had just left them.

She could not recall a time when she had been so immensely comfortable with so little effort. She rose and crossed to the edge of the stream. Crouching on the mossy bank, she leaned her face down to the water, to draw up long sweet draughts of it. It did not lose its silvery appearance, even when viewed from only inches away. It was cold and heavy; she felt it slide down her throat and spread through her as if it were alive. She lifted her face and watched a few drops fall from her chin to the moving surface of the water.

She sat back on her haunches, and then stretched out on her back, a pleasant little chill running over her. She felt her heart thump more slowly. The waters of the stream rippled through her, spreading through her limbs a delicious chilliness. The liquid flowed through her, heavy, silvery, dense as mercury. Ki had never been so aware of her own body, so alert to the flow of her blood in her veins. She gazed about at the beauty of the night. It filled her with a longing to stay here, by the bridge and the silvery water.

‘Vandien?’ she asked him softly. ‘Why would you pass up such a stopping place? I don’t want to get up and chase you down the road tonight. I want to rest here. And I think I will, my friend. You say I never have impulses. Well, here is my third one today. As you so often bid me, I will act on it.’ Ki settled back on the grassy sward.

‘She went through.’ The Keeper’s voice was dark as midnight.

Yoleth nodded from the shadows. ‘It was the one bait she would never refuse. You have done well. Your master will be as pleased with you as I am. Now the Gate may be closed, for we are done with it. After, that is, you have given me the small token agreed upon.’

The Keeper slowly swung his oddly shaped head. ‘Not yet. She may be through the Gate, but she is not the Limbreth’s yet. You will have your reward when they receive her. Besides, the Gate is not yours nor mine to close. The Limbreth can open it, and I can hold it so. But the Gate must close itself, slowly as a healing wound.’

Yoleth shook her cowled head angrily. ‘You made no mention of this when our bargain was made! Does the Limbreth know that she is through the Gate? Go to him and tell him!’

Again the Keeper shook his sightless head. ‘I may not leave my post, not until the Gate begins to close. Until then I guard it. But you would send me on a fool’s errand. None can pass the Gate without the Limbreth knowing. To the Limbreth she will be drawn. When she arrives, the Limbreth will keep any bargain you have made.’

‘I don’t like this!’ Yoleth drew herself up. ‘Your master should know that as well. The Limbreth spoke of no such delays.’

‘Would you have the teamster back? I can call her.’ The Keeper made his offer blandly.

‘No. No. The Windsingers keep their end of a bargain, however the Limbreth may quibble over his. They can have her, and we will wait for our token. For the sake of the ancient friendship between our races, to be renewed with this offering.’ Yoleth drew herself up. Her dark blue robes swirled around her ankles, whipped up by a breeze that eddied the dust at her feet. She nodded to the Keeper, the awesome contents of her cowl bobbing slightly above her forehead. The Keeper was unimpressed. Yoleth turned from the Gate and was gone into the night, the dust, and the wind.

THREE (#ulink_2486b951-f52c-5260-8218-4aa37cf9560c)

‘Come, lover. It’s full dark and the moon’s over the Herald’s Tower. That’s all I promised your friend.’

Vandien felt hands upon him. He was rolled onto his back. He blinked up stupidly at the woman that leaned over him, trying to pull him into a sitting position. He didn’t remember her. He didn’t remember any of this. He scrubbed at his strangely tingling face with sleepy hands. And did remember. He swung his feet to the floor and sat up so suddenly that the woman overbalanced and sat down hard. He glared at her wide-eyed look.

‘What’s going on?’ His tongue felt as fuzzy and dirty as the blankets he sat on. The woman licked her full lips and tried a smile on him. Vandien stood, caught himself as he tottered, and then found balance. One leg was still numb. He gripped that thigh and massaged it; it roused back to life with tingling pain. His whole hip on that side was tender, except for a dead spot right in the center. He touched it gingerly; dried blood cracked under his fingerprints.

‘It’s just a tiny jab!’ The woman dropped her smile and raised her hands as she fell back before him, not attempting to defend herself but only to ward off as much of the beating as possible. ‘Your friend said you could appreciate a good joke. It’s a common enough one. Don’t waste your time on me! The wedding will still be waiting for you, it’s not all that late. If you hurry, that is.’

‘You don’t make one damn bit of sense,’ Vandien growled.

She began to whimper. ‘Well, you know. The other apprentice, Jori, he paid me to do it. Said you’d done the same thing to a friend not three moons ago. Just a little jab with a dose of numbweed, and the bridegroom’s a little late for a wedding. It was just a joke!’ she cried out before his murderous look.

‘On the wrong man. Do I look like an apprentice, or a bridegroom?’

She quailed and accused together. ‘Well, you’re wearing the hawk, and you’ve got the scar. Oh, this is always my luck, it is! Look, don’t be angry! If you haven’t got a wedding night to go to, stay here, and I’ll make you think you’ve had one. Only don’t hit me and break up my things! Please!’ Tears welled, exposing the child, and Vandien was disarmed.

‘That’s all right,’ he assured her, backing away. ‘It was just a mistake. Don’t do anything so damn foolish again. Didn’t you wonder what kind of a man would set you up to bear the brunt of another’s anger?’

‘He gave me three times what I asked,’ she said defensively, and Vandien saw it was useless.

‘I’m going,’ he replied, quite unnecessarily. He limped from the room, his leg still bending strangely whenever he put weight on it.

The darkened stairs were a challenge he nearly didn’t meet. At the bottom he stopped to catch his breath and get his bearings. His head was as hazy as a drunkard’s. He would find his way back to the market, and then to the tavern. Ki was going to be annoyed at waiting so long for him; until he told his story. Then she would be amused. Neither appealed.

A horse snorted in the darkness. Vandien froze, letting his eyes adjust. His horse. Still saddled, and tied to a bush outside this seedy building.

He tried to make sense of it. Someone had made a very thorough mistake in identifying him. Not likely. Ki had set it up as a prank, complete with hawk necklace. It was more likely that Ki would hire an assassin. So. Your head is fuzzy and you won’t find any answers here in the dark. Get you to a tavern.

He mounted with difficulty. He had to grab the knee of his bad leg to get it properly placed. Once he was up, it was better than walking. Ki had chosen this animal for him. It was taller than one he would have picked, and uglier. But she had assured him that once she was finished with it, he would be able to trade it for whatever he wished. He had been skeptical. But now that she had wormed it, and her oil and herb mixture was improving its coat, it was a decent-looking mount. He was just lucky it hadn’t been stolen while it was tied there. That was another thing Ki would never have done: she would never have left a valuable animal and saddle standing in the dark. No, it wasn’t Ki.

Her wagon wasn’t under the sign of the Contented Duck, and she wasn’t inside. Cursing the strange turn of his luck, Vandien limped to a table and sat down to think. He ordered Alys to clear the thick taste from his mouth, and sat rubbing at his tingling leg. The dead spot in the center of his hip still bothered him. He could not resist tapping a finger against it. Nothing. His finger could feel the outline of the small wound, but his hip didn’t know it. He wondered how long before that would pass.

A dark and sullen boy brought Vandien his Alys. Vandien held up the coin to pay him, but did not release his grip on it. The boy glowered at him.

‘I need to ask you a question. I’m looking for a woman, a little shorter than I am, green eyes …’

‘I know a man named Sidrathio; he can get you any kind of woman you fancy, short ones, tall ones, ones that …’

‘No.’ Vandien broke the boy’s litany. ‘I am looking for a particular woman; I think she was here earlier. Green eyes, brown hair worn loose, a yellow blouse …’

‘The tavern has been very busy. I could have seen her and not noticed.’