Legend of Lost Earth, page 11
Giles would not watch. Ignoring the pathetic scene, he whipped out the piece of papers Saunders had given him and thrust it into Duncan's hands. The guard looked at him sharply, and then with a respectful nod, beckoned him to follow.
They had put the Dagda into a small, hollowed out room on a lower level. There was one Watcher standing outside the jagged entrance. As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light, Giles saw that the Dagda was standing quite still in the center of the room, his head upright, his eyes closed.
"Release him in this man's custody," Duncan gave the authorization to the guard. "You're relieved now."
The guard yawned appreciatively and waved toward the Dagda, "Get him to move if you can. I had orders to let this man sit down, but he's been standing like that all day. Refused every bit of water or food. I'm glad to have somebody else try." He yawned again and with a doubtful shrug at Giles, walked off.
Duncan looked inside the room at the Dagda and stated, "You're released in the custody of Giles Chulainn."
There was no response. Duncan frowned and tried again, louder. "You may come out now!" The Dagda didn't move, didn't open his eyes.
"He couldn't be unconscious?" Sigrid whispered.
"No," Giles said slowly, "I don't think so." He looked at the old man carefully. "If you will both move away for a moment I think I can handle it."
Sigrid nodded at the guard and they moved off down the corridor. Giles was not concerned; he knew she wouldn't go far. He stooped to enter the low archway and walked up to the Dagda. Softly he said first what he felt the old man wanted to hear.
"I gave orders upstairs that the other be allowed to sit. They're comfortable now."
With his eyes still closed the Dagda slowly nodded and Giles saw the stiff posture of his body relax a little.
"I'll have to tell you the rest quickly; the guards are just down the hall. I have been to Earth." It was the first time Giles had said the words aloud to anyone. As he heard himself, he felt at last the shock of that affirmation. The Dagda didn't move or respond in any way. Drawing a deep breath, Giles continued.
"But I'm afraid I have bad news. Lir Regan was there and as we were talking one of the Watchers appeared.. A girl named Sigrid whom I know." He paused, realizing that the explanation might be difficult. Well, there wasn't time now.
"She was carrying a weapon and Lir Regan told me to run back to the globe. I did. I'm afraid she might have harmed your niece. I don't know."
Giles heard the footsteps of Sigrid and Duncan returning down the corridor. Hurriedly he whispered the rest, "She says that; she dreamed her journey to Earth. But she may be lying. She may have discovered the lost fleet. The head of Intelligence knows of Earth, or says he does, and I know him. He's a vicious, utterly unprincipled man. He gave orders to use Judgments against your people. He wants you released in my custody because he wants to find Lir Regan." There wasn't time for more. He could feel Sigrid and Duncan standing just outside the arch.
Still the Dagda didn't open his eyes. He said, in a voice so low that Giles had to strain to hear, "There are two hundred of us here."
"No, not so many," Giles said gently, "Only about fifty."
"There are two hundred," the Dagda repeated. "Not only where you saw them, but others hidden below."
Giles felt a wild surge of elation, "Then they didn't find all of you!"
"But.almost all the children are among the fifty upstairs," the old man's words came with infinite slowness. "And I want you to do something more now. We must have a meeting up above. You must be there."
"I can't do that," Giles whispered urgently, "I can take you with me but that's all the authority I have. I got away with the other, order by pure luck."
"You will have to do more," the Dagda said. "I will not move until a meeting is called." His eyes remained closed arid his breath came so slowly that at any moment Giles thought it might stop altogether.
Frantically he whispered, "I can't," and Sigrid came in beside him. The Dagda didn't move. Giles drew Sigrid out of the room and beckoned to Duncan. Then he walked up the corridor with both of them.
"You have my authorization to take the Dagda," he reminded the guard.
Duncan cast an uneasy glance back at the man standing in the small room and wordlessly nodded.
Giles looked at Sigrid, "And you are here to see that I make as few mistakes as possible." He ignored her quick protest and continued, "The greatest mistake at the moment would be in not following the order I'm about to give you. That man in there holds the security of Niflhel in his hands, and there is only one way I'm going to be able to give the Superior the information he wants. You have plenty of guards here and I can assure you there won't be any trouble. We are going to let the Earth Worshippers have another meeting— now!"
Duncan opened his mouth to protest but Sigrid was faster. "What do you think you're doing, Giles? Saunders warned me you might do something like this." Startled at her own disclosure, she stopped.
So, it was out, Giles thought. She was Watching him for Saunders. She must know quite well she had been to Earth. Maybe, if she had harmed Lir Regan in any way, she might be afraid to tell Saunders. Perhaps that was why she hadn't seen him yet. But if Lir Regan were safe they would feel they still needed Giles as a contact. They must realize by this time that he was playing a double game. Whatever the answer there was only one thing to do. He must try to get the Dagda what he wanted, as long as he could. The old man was not a fool. There must be something in back of his demand.
"We are after a girl," Giles began, "and she may be hidden here. You may be sure that if there is a meeting and she is in the vicinity, she will appear regardless of our presence." Now, he wondered, what would Sigrid say?
Surprisingly she agreed, "That's true. These people are all crazy and that girl especially would never think of the consequences. I'm sorry, Giles. It's a good idea."
Giles' heart leaped with hope; did this mean that Lir Regan was safe?
"Do you think the Dagda will lead them?" Sigrid asked.
"I think it's the only way to move him out of that room."
Sigrid nodded and turned to Duncan, "Have your men ready for questioning in case she appears. It shouldn't take too long. And make whatever arrangements are needed upstairs for the meeting. It doesn't matter, green lights, anything. Give them what they want. We'll be up presently.
Duncan started to go but she detained him, "And do be ready for the other thing. Possibly the Judgments will have to be immediate. Do you understand?"
Duncan nodded and left and Giles wondered if Sigrid was including him in that last order.
"I told Saunders about your contact with that girl," Sigrid said.
Giles waited stolidly. Was she going to tell him now about seeing him on Earth?
"I know we're taking a long chance, Giles," she went on, "But the way the girl spoke to you on the street that night made me think she might tell you something, or at least be responsive to you. You're one of the few people on Niflhel who has ever seen her, outside of the Earth Worshippers."
Giles frowned. It wasn't possible, was it, that he had convinced her he was working for Intelligence? Did Sigrid really accept him as a Watcher?
"We discovered who she was from one of the Earth Worshippers who wasn't able to keep the information," Sigrid smiled at him.
Giles managed to keep his expression steady. "I think I'd better get the Dagda," he said, and turning away, he stooped into the room.
The Dagda was still standing in that erect posture but he seemed to have grown several inches. His eyes were wide open, blazing, Giles felt, with a secret dream. What would he do with his meeting? Was it to be a last blessing of those who were shortly to come under the Judgments? Would he inspire them to violence? He had said there were many others hidden below. If only he could ask, Giles thought, but Sigrid was waiting just outside the door.
"Come," the Dagda said, smiling at him, "I think they are waiting for us." He bent under the arch and began walk-ing toward the stairs, a little as if he were monarch of this underground kingdom. Sigrid, after raising her eyebrows at Giles, fell into a mock step behind.
Giles wondered if she had any idea of how far she would be led; he didn't know himself. But there was something in the physical movement of following that old, stately man that left him free for a moment from his terrible questions and his fear.
XI
"Between us and the heavy temptations Between us and the shame of the world Between us and the death of captivity…"
The children sat cross legged in front of their elders, looking up with round eyes at the Dagda as he led the chant. Behind them the voices of their parents and all the Earth Worshippers rose and fell in rhythmic waves.
The green lights the Watchers had restored around the walls cast flickering shadows on the group of people sitting on the floor. Around them the black capes of the Watchers circled like a border of death.
The words of the song were heavy. The Dagda looked down at the children, and as if wishing to release them from the mysterious fear that echoed in their eyes, he smiled and changed to another, lighter invocation.
"From every brownee and banshee…"
The children clapped their hands, laughing, and eagerly joined in.
"From every nymph and water wraith From every fairy mouse and grass mouse…"
It seemed to be their special song. Giles looked wonderingly at their uplifted faces, listened to the high, light childish voices that rose above the rest. He tried to fit the words to the life they had known—a world of black cinders, blacker soot. Could they know the meaning of grass, the magic of water? What associations could the words possibly have for them who had been denied from birth their natural home? Wouldn't they sing as eagerly about the dust of Niflhel?
"From every troll among the hills… Oh! Save me till the end of my day. Oh! Save me till the end of my day."
And silently, Giles echoed the prayer… save them till the end of their day.
Beside him Sigrid was watching with amusement. They stood at the end of the circle of guards, nearest the Dagda. Giles still couldn't determine what the man intended to do. So far it had been a meeting like any other but confined to chants. The Dagda had not spoken of Earth. But he didn't need to. Earth was reflected in the eyes of each person sitting along the floor. And Sigrid, too, Giles knew, was thinking of Earth. He wondered how she visualized it, how she visualized herself there. He wondered why she was amused-because they were waiting for nothing? Because at the end of this meeting she instead of the Dagda would be giving directions?
Giles looked at her out of the corner of his eye. How did she intend to execute the Judgments? But he didn't want to think about that. If only he could quietly disappear from that circle of guards and look for the others who were hidden below… But the Dagda had made an almost imperceptible motion to Giles, at the beginning of the meeting, that he was to remain there. Whatever must happen now was in the Dagda's hands.
"An Tri numh A chumhnadh A chumhnadh…*
It was the same strange chant he had heard so long ago, at least it seemed so long ago. Those strange words. The Dagda was saying them alone. His voice was deep and steady and clear, reaching to the farthest recess of the huge hall.
As if the words frightened her, Sigrid stiffened and grabbed on to Giles' arm.
"The sacred three To save To surround…*
Giles started. The words had changed and the voice was changing. In back of the Dagda another, clearer sound came ringing through the room, a feminine voice. Slowly the Dagda's voice faded away and there was only that bell like tone…
"The hearth The house The household…"
Standing beside the Dagda, as if she had appeared out of mist, came Lir Regan, her hands stretched out before her.
"This eve, this night, O. This eve!"
Sigrid gave a signal to the Watchers. Giles threw her arm away and dashed for Lir Regan. The Dagda was standing close beside her. She put out a hand and drew
Giles close, away from the guards who were right beside him. The voices of the Earth Worshippers were screams in the air. There was sudden bedlam as the ash from the floor was raised in a blinding flurry… Everyone had risen… Giles felt it coming down over his head, into his eyes. He rubbed his knuckles quickly and opened his eyes…
And looked at Lir Regan.
They were standing on a grassy rising by the banks of a small stream.
Everywhere the trees rose in an infinite variety, rising and arching in graceful profusion. Low in the Western sky the sun hung red, a flaming disc streaking the clouds with pink and orange and gold. A light mist was settling along the undergrowth, curling around the grass and lifting in wispy tendrils about the trunks of the trees. Somewhere in the distance there was an insistent rushing, a rise and fall, a gentle thunder crashing and fading away.
Lir Regan was still holding Giles' hand. Beside her the Dagda had his arm linked through hers. Now she released them both and standing back, looked at Giles with an odd, searching expression.
Suddenly he began to tremble. The Hall at the Branxholm, the ash, the circle of armed guards, that cloud of soot, and now—
Fearfully he stared at Lir Regan, unable to control the panic that swept through him. His mind was tumbling in a series of wild gyrations and suddenly, irrationally, he wished to be away, to be back—
"Don't!" Lir Regan quickly put out her hand to steady him. Holding his arm firmly she drew him down to the grass and sat down beside him. "I'm sorry, Giles," her voice was sympathetic, but light and clear. It rang through the glade like a shower of soft bells.
The natural sound of it helped him. He continued to look at her while slowly, gradually, his body stopped shaking and his heart resumed its normal beat. The Dagda, watching the scene guardedly, smiled and sat down beside them
"There was no other way this time, Giles," Lir Regan said, her green eyes reflecting the light of the leaves.
Giles watched those eyes steadily and asked, "Was it you,then?"
"Yes, this time it was."
"And you…" he stopped. He had no reference point. There were no words on Niflhel for what he wished to ask.
"I am only myself," Lir Regan softly answered his unspoken question. "I am exactly what you know of me—the Dagda's niece And beyond that I am the Bard, yes."
"Whaf you really wish to know is something different, Giles," the Dagda broke in, "but Lir Regan did bring us here this time, it's true."
"I couldn't stay," Lir Regan said, "They would have caught me this time and there is a limit."
"The others!" Giles cried suddenly, springing to his feet.
"Yes, you must go back. The time has come. That's why I brought you here, to tell you how, to show you the way." Lir Regan, too, jumped to her feet and began speaking hurriedly. "There isn't too much time left, Giles, and you will have to da it. My uncle and I can't go back now."
"They've invoked Judgments for our people, Lir Regan," The Dagda said.
She turned and looked at him with terror in her eyes. It was the first time Giles had ever seen her show fear.
"Then you must go now, Giles!" she cried.
"And all the children are in the main hall with those who were caught," the Dagda told her.
She stared at him for an instant in wordless horror and then turned to Giles. "The children," she said helplessly. "Then is there time?"
"Perhaps… if he goes now," the Dagda urged.
"But how?" Giles asked, "How can I return?"
Lir Regan turned to her uncle and he shook his head. There was still a question in her eyes as she looked at Giles, but making a sudden decision, she cried, "There isn't time to explain now. Just follow me!" and she began to run down the slope.
He caught up with her quickly and followed as she led him in a twisting path through the maze of trees, down to the stream and along its curving edge. The sun was sinking lower as they ran, bathing the earth in a red gold twilight. Running through that golden mist with the droplets of water on the rocks reflecting like jewels, Giles felt that they were running into the heart of the sun…
"Follow me!" Lir Regan called again, and Giles, the sun in his eyes, in his mouth, in his hair, lighting him like a streak of gold, ran on.
XII
Not much time had elapsed, Giles saw. The main hall was still foggy from that sudden shower of ash, the green globes still flickered palely behind the specks of soot that hung stubbornly in the air. A cloud of dirt was digging its way in under the heavy doors and through the cracks of the old building. Outside, Giles could hear gusts of wind buffeting the walls. The dirt storm had reached the Branxholm.
The Earth Worshippers were lined up against the wall again and now all the guards were inside the building. They stood with their weapons pointed at each man, woman and child. The children were whimpering in fear. But at least the Judgments had not begun.
From the head of the stairs Giles caught a glimpse of Sigrid's heavy blonde hair in a far corner. She was talking animatedly with a man. Giles squinted through the haze… it looked like Saunders. Slowly he began to edge his way toward the line of captive people, trying to recognize the man
Arthur whom Lir Regan had told him to find. Brown hair, tall and thin, a narrow, high bridged nose. He might be standing near his children, two boys about five and six.
There were dozens of guards standing about in loose clusters who were not watching the Earth Worshippers. Giles found that in the dense fog of soot he could move through them freely; they took no notice of him. Carefully he made his way along the line of people. Running his eyes swiftly down the row, Giles found him. It was the same man who had assisted the Dagda at that first meeting. He was at the far end, near Giles, and away from Sigrid. Giles moved up in back of the Watcher who was standing in front of the man. He waited for what seemed an eternity before he caught Arthur's eye. Then quickly, hoping that he wasn't seen, Giles made the gesture with his hands that Lir Regan had taught him. Arthur, his eyes fast on Giles, raised his head slightly and softly cleared his throat. Giles smiled at him quickly and turned down the line of guards.
