Halting, I restrained myself from interrupting for a moment and watched. Ganelon would not have put him where he was without a reason, so I was not immediately overwhelmed with sympathy for the fellow. Whatever it was that had prompted Ganelon to question him thus, I knew that I, too, would be interested in the information. I was also interested in whatever the session would show me concerning Ganelon, who was now something of an ally. And a few more minutes upside down could not do that much additional damage…
As his body slowed, Ganelon prodded him in the sternum with the tip of his blade and set him to swinging violently once again. This broke the skin lightly and another red spot appeared. At this, the boy cried out. From his complexion, I could see now that he was a youth. Ganelon extended his blade and held its point several inches beyond the place the boy’s throat would come to on the backswing. At the last moment, he snatched it back and chuckled as the boy writhed and cried out, “Please!”
“The rest,” said Ganelon. “Tell me everything.”
“That’s all!” said the other. “I know no more!”
“Why not?”
“They swept on by me then! I could not see!”
“Why did you not follow?”
“They were mounted. I was on foot.”
“Why did you not follow on foot then?”
“I was dazed.”
“Dazed? You were afraid! You deserted!”
“No!”
Ganelon held his blade forth, snapped it away again at the final moment.
“No!” cried the youth.
Ganelon moved the blade again.
“Yes!” the boy screamed. “I was afraid!”
“And you fled then?”
“Yes! I kept running! I’ve been fleeing ever since…”
“And you know nothing of how things went after that?”
“No.”
“You lie!” He moved the blade again.
“No!” said the boy. “Please…”
I stepped forward then. “Ganelon,” I said.
He glanced at me and grinned, lowering the blade. The boy sought my eyes.
“What have we here?” I asked.
“Ha!” he said, slapping the inside of the youth’s thigh so that he cried out. “A thief, a deserter — with an interesting tale to tell.”
“Then cut him down and let me hear it,” I said.
Ganelon turned and cut through the cord with one swipe of his blade. The boy fell to the ground and began sobbing.
“I caught him trying to steal our supplies and thought to question him about the area,” Ganelon said. “He’s come from Avalon — quickly.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was a foot soldier in a battle that took place there two nights ago. He turned coward during the fighting and deserted.”
The youth began to mouth a denial and Ganelon kicked him.
“Silence!” he said. “I’m telling it now — as you told me!”
The boy moved sideways like a crab and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.
“Battle? Who was fighting?” I asked. Ganelon smiled grimly.
“It sounds somewhat familiar,” he said. “The forces of Avalon were engaged in what seems to have been the largest — and perhaps final — of a long series of confrontations with beings not quite natural.”
“Oh?”
I studied the boy and his eyes dropped, but I saw the fear that was there before they fell.
“…Women,” Ganelon said. “Pale furies out of some hell, lovely and cold. Armed and armored. Long, light hair. Eyes like ice. Mounted on white, firebreathing steeds that fed on human flesh, they came forth by night from a warren of caves in the mountains an earthquake opened several years ago. They raided, taking young men back with them as captives, killing all others. Many appeared later as a soulless infantry, following their van. This sounds very like the men of the Circle we knew.”
“But many of those lived when they were freed,” I said. “They did not seem soulless then, only somewhat as I once did — amnesiac. It seems strange,” I went on, “that they did not block off these caves during the day, since the riders only came forth by night…”
“The deserter tells me this was tried,” said Ganelon, “and they always burst forth after a time, stronger than before.”
The boy was ashen, but he nodded when I looked toward him inquiringly.
“Their General, whom he calls the Protector, routed them many times,” Ganelon continued. “He even spent part of a night with their leader, a pale bitch named Lintra — whether in dalliance or parlay, I’m not certain. But nothing came of this. The raids continued and her forces grew stronger. The Protector finally decided to mass an all — out attack, in hopes of destroying them utterly. It was during that battle that this one fled,” he said, indicating the youth with a gesture of his blade, “which is why we do not know the ending to the story.”
“Is that the way it was?” I asked him.
The boy looked away from the weapon’s point, met my eyes for a moment, then nodded slowly.
“Interesting,” I said to Ganelon. “Very. I’ve a feeling their problem is linked to the one we just solved. I wish I knew how their fight turned out.” Ganelon nodded, shifted his grip on his weapon. “Well, if we’re finished with him now…” he said.
“Hold. I presume he was trying to steal something to eat?”
“Yes.”
“Free his hands. We’ll feed him.”
“But he tried to steal from us.”
“Did you not say that you had once killed a man for a pair of shoes?”
“Yes, but that was different.”
“How so?”
“I got away with it.”
I laughed. It broke me up completely, and I could not stop laughing. He looked irritated, then puzzled. Then he began laughing himself.
The youth regarded us as if we were a pair of maniacs.
“All right,” said Ganelon finally, “all right,” and he stooped, turned the boy with a single push, and severed the cord that bound his wrists.
“Come, lad,” he said. “I’ll fetch you something to eat,” and he moved to our gear and opened several food parcels.
The boy rose and limped slowly after him. He seized the food that was offered and began eating quickly and noisily, not taking his eyes off Ganelon. His information, if true, presented me with several complications, the foremost being that it would probably be more difficult to obtain what I wanted in a war-ravaged land. It also lent weight to my fears as to the nature and extent of the disruption pattern.
I helped Ganelon build a small fire.
“How does this affect our plans?” he asked.
I saw no real choice. All of the shadows near to what I desired would be similarly involved. I could lay my course for one which did not possess such involvement, but in reaching it I would have achieved the wrong place. That which I desired would not be available there. If the forays of chaos kept occurring on my desire — walk through Shadow, then they were bound up with the nature of the desire and would have to be dealt with, one way or another, sooner or later. They could not be avoided. Such was the nature of the game, and I could not complain because I had laid down the rules.
“We go on,” I said. “It is the place of my desire.”
The youth let out a brief cry, and then — perhaps from some feeling of indebtedness for my having prevented Ganelon from poking holes in him — warned, “Do not go to Avalon, sir! There is nothing there that you could desire! You will be slain!”
I smiled to him and thanked him. Ganelon chuckled then and said, “Let us take him back with us to stand a deserter’s trial.”
At this, the youth scrambled to his feet and began running.
Still laughing, Ganelon drew his dagger and cocked his arm to throw it. I struck his arm and his cast went wide of its mark. The youth vanished within the wood and Ganelon continued to laugh.