Back Aa

Jewels of Aptor

<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> An oil lamp leaked yellow light on the wooden walls of the ship's forecastle. Geo wrinkled his nose, then shrugged. "Well," said Urson, "this is a pleasant enough hole." He climbed one of the tiers of bunked beds and pounded the ticking with the flat of his hand. "Here, I'll take this one. Little wriggly arms, you look like you have a strong stomach, so you take the middle. And Geo, sling yourself down in the bottom there." He clumped to the floor again. "The lower down you are," he explained, "the better you sleep, because of the rocking. Well, what do you think of your first forecastle, Geo?" The poet was silent. As he turned his head, double pins of light struck yellow dots in his dark eyes, and then went out as he turned from the lamp. "I put you in the bottom because a little rough weather can unseat your belly pretty fast if you're up near the ceiling and not used to it," Urson expanded, dropping his hand heavily on Geo's shoulder. "I told you I'd look out for you, didn't I, friend?" But Geo turned away and seemed to examine something else. Urson looked at Snake now, who was watching him from against one wall. Urson's glance was puzzled. Snake's only silent. "Hey." Urson spoke to Geo once more. "Let's you and me take a run around this ship and see what's tied down where. A good sailor does that first thing—unless he's too drunk. But that lets the captain and the mate know he's got an alert eye out, and sometimes he can learn something that will ease some back-bending later on. What do you say?" "Not now, Urson," interrupted Geo. "You go." "And would you please tell me why my company suddenly isn't good enough for you. This sudden silence is a bilgy way to treat somebody who's sworn himself to see that you make the best first voyage that a man could have. Why, I think ..." "When did you kill a man?" Geo suddenly turned. The giant stood still, his hands twisting into double knots of bone and muscle. Then they opened. "Maybe it was a year ago," he said softly. "And maybe it was a year, two months, and five days, on a Thursday morning at eight o'clock in the brig of a heaving ship. Which would make it about five days and ten hours." "How could you kill a man?" Geo asked. "How could you go for a year and not tell me about it, and then admit it to a stranger just like that? You were my friend, we've slept under the same blanket, drank from the same wineskin. But what sort of a person are you?" "And what sort of a person are you?" said the giant. "A nosy bastard that I'd break in seven pieces if ..." he heaved in a breadth. "If I hadn't promised I'd make no trouble. I've never broken a promise to anyone, alive or dead." The fists formed, relaxed again. Suddenly he raised one hand, flung it away, and spat on the floor. Then he turned toward the steps to the door. Then the noise hit them. They both turned toward Snake. The boy's black eyes darted under twin spots of light from the lamp, to Urson, to Geo, then back. The noise came again, quieter this time, and recognizable as the word Help, only it was no sound, but like the fading hum of a tuning fork inside their skulls, immediate, yet fuzzy. ... You ... help ... me ... together ... came the words once more, indistinct and blurring into one another. "Hey," Urson said, "is that you?" ... Do ... not ... angry ... came the words. "We're not angry," Geo said. "What are you doing?" I ... thinking ... were the words that seemed to generate from the boy now. "What sort of a way to think is that if everyone can hear it?" demanded Urson. Snake tried to explain. Not ... everyone ... Just ... you ... You ... think ... I ... hear ... came the sound again. I ... think ... You ... hear. "I know we hear," Urson said. "It's just like you were talking." "That's not what he means," Geo said. "He means he hears what we think just like we hear him. Is that right, Snake?" When ... you ... think ... loud ... I ... hear. "I may just have been doing some pretty loud thinking," Urson said. "And if I thought something I wasn't supposed to, well, I apologize." Snake didn't seem interested in the apology, but asked again, You ... help ... me ... together. "What sort of help do you want?" Geo asked. "And what sort of trouble are you in that you need help out of it?" added Urson. You ... don't ... have ... good ... minds, Snake said. "What's that supposed to mean?" Urson asked. "Our minds are as good as any in Leptar. You heard the way the priestess talked to my friend the poet, here." "I think he means we don't hear very well," said Geo. Snake nodded. "Oh," Urson said. "Well, then you'll just have to go slow and be patient with us." Snake shook his head. Get ... hoarse ... when ... shout ... so ... loud. Suddenly he went over to the bunks. You ... hear ... better ... see ... too if ... sleep. "Sleep is sort of far from me," Urson said, rubbing his beard with the back of his wrist. "Me too," Geo admitted. "Can't you tell us something more?" Sleep, Snake said. "What about talking like an ordinary human being?" suggested Urson, still somewhat perplexed. Once ... speak, Snake told them. "You say you could speak once?" asked Geo. "What happened?" Here the boy opened his mouth and pointed. Geo stepped forward, held the boy's chin in his hand and examined the face and peered into the mouth. "By the Goddess!" he exclaimed. "What is it?" Urson asked. Geo came away now, his face lined in a sickly frown. "His tongue has been hacked out," he told the giant. "And not too neatly, either." "Who on the seven seas and six continents did a thing like that to you, boy?" Urson demanded. Snake shook his head. "Now come on, Snake," he urged. "You can't keep secrets like that from friends and expect them to rescue you from I don't know what. Now who was it hacked your voice away?" What ... man ... you ... kill ... came the sound. Urson stopped, and then he laughed. "All right," he said. "I see." His voice rose once more. "But if you can hear thoughts, you know the man already. And you know the reason. And this is what we'd find out of you, and only for help and friendship's sake." You ... know ... the ... man, Snake said. Geo and Urson exchanged puzzled frowns. Sleep, said Snake. You ... sleep ... now. "Maybe we ought to try," said Geo, "and find out what's going on." He crossed to his bunk and slipped in. Urson followed and hoisted himself onto the upper berth, dangling his feet against the wooden support. "It's going to be a long time before sleep gets to me tonight," he said. "You know the rituals and about magic. Aren't the Strange Ones some sort of magic?" "The only mention of them in rituals says that they are ashes of the Great Fire. The Great Fire was back before the purges, the ones I spoke to the priestess about, so I don't know anything more about them." "Sailors have stories of the Great Fire," Urson said. "They say the sea boiled, great birds spat fire from the sky, and beasts rose up from the waves and destroyed the harbors. But what were the purges you mentioned?" "About five hundred years ago," Geo explained, "all the rituals of the Goddess Argo were destroyed. A completely new set were initiated into the temple practices. All references to them were destroyed also, and with them, much of Leptar's history. Stories have it that the rituals and incantations were too powerful. But this is just a guess, and most priests are very uncomfortable about speculating." "That was after the Great Fire?" Urson asked. "Nearly a thousand years after," Geo said. "It must have been a Great Fire indeed if ashes from it are still falling from the wombs of healthy women." He looked down at Snake. "Is it true that a drop of your blood in vinegar will cure gout? If one of you kisses a female baby, will she have only girl children?" He laughed. "You know those are only tales," Geo said. "There used to be a one with two heads that sat outside the Blue Tavern and spun a top all day. It was an idiot, though. But the dwarfs and the legless ones that wheel about the city and do tricks, they are clever. But strange, and quiet, usually." "You oaf," chided Geo, "you could be one too. How many men do you know who reach your size and strength by normal means?" "You're a crazy liar," said Urson. Then he scrunched his eyebrows together in thought, and at last shrugged. "Well anyway, I never heard of one who could hear what you thought. It would make me uncomfortable walking down the street." He looked down at Snake between his legs. "Can you all do that?" Snake, from the middle bunk, shook his head. Urson stretched out on his back, but then suddenly looked over the edge of the berth toward Geo. "Hey, Geo, what about those little baubles she had. Do you know what they are?" "No, I don't," Geo said. "But she was concerned over them enough." He looked up over the bunk bottom between himself and Urson. "Snake, will you give me another look at that thing?" Snake held out the thong and the jewel. "Where did you get it?" Urson asked. "Oh, never mind. I guess we learn that when we go to sleep." Geo reached for it, but Snake's one hand closed and three others sprang around it. "I wasn't going to take it," explained Geo. "I just wanted to see." Suddenly the door of the forecastle opened, and the tall mate was silhouetted against the brighter light behind him. "Poet," he called. "She wants to see you." Then he was gone. Geo looked at the other two, shrugged, and then swung off the berth, made his way up the steps and into the hall. On deck it was completely dark. As he walked, a door before him opened and a blade of illumination sliced the deck. He jumped. "Come in," summoned the Priestess of Argo, and he turned into a windowless cabin and stopped one step beyond the threshold. The walls rippled tapestries, lucent green, scarlet. Golden braziers perched on tapering legged tripods beneath plumes of pale blue smoke that lent thin incense in the room, pierced faintly but cleanly into his nostrils like knives. Light lashed the polished wooden newels of a great bed on which sat swirls of silk, damasked satin, brocade. A huge desk, cornered with wooden eagles, was spread with papers, meticulous instruments of cartography, sextants, rules, compasses, and great shabby books were piled on one corner. Above, from the beamed ceiling, hung by thick chains, swayed a branching candelabra of oil cups, some in the hands of demons, the mouths of monkeys, burning in the bellies of nymphs, or between the horns of satyrs' heads—red, clear green, or yellow-white. "Come in," repeated the priestess. "Close the door." Geo obeyed. She walked behind her desk, sat down, and folded her hands in front of her veiled face. "What do you know of the real world, outside Leptar?" "That there is much water, some land, and mostly ignorance." "What tales have you heard from your bear friend, Urson? He is a traveled man and should know some of what there is of the earth." "The stories of sailors," said Geo, "are menageries of beasts that no one has ever seen, of lands for which no maps exist, and of peoples whom no man has met." She smiled. "Since I boarded this ship I have heard many tales from sailors, and I have learned more from them than from all my priests. You, on the docks there, this evening, have been the only man to give me another scrap of the puzzle except a few drunken seamen, misremembering old fantasies." She paused. "What do you know of the jewels you saw tonight?" "Nothing, ma'am." "A common thief hiding on the docks had one; I, a priestess of Argo, possess another; and if you had one, you would probably exchange it for a kiss with some tavern maid. What do you know of the god Hama?" "I know of no such god." "You," she said, "who can spout all the rituals and incantations of the white goddess Argo, you do not even know the name of the dark god Hama. What do you know of the Island of Aptor?" "Nothing, ma'am." "This boat has been to Aptor once and now will return again. Ask your ignorant friend the Bear to tell you tales of Aptor; and blind, wise poet, you will laugh, and probably he will, too. But I will tell you: his tales, his legends, and his fantasies are not a tithe of the truth, not a tithe. Perhaps you will be no help after all. I am thinking of dismissing you." "But, ma'am ..." Geo began. The priestess looked up, having been about to begin some work. Geo regained himself. "Ma'am, what can you tell me about these things? You have scattered only crumbs. I have extensive knowledge of incantation, poetry, magic, and I know these concern your problem. Give me what information you have, and I will be able to render mine in full. I am familiar with many sailors' tales. True, none of Aptor, or Hama, but I may be able to collate fragments. I have learned the legends and jargon of thieves through a broad life; this is more than your priests have, I'll wager. I have had teachers who were afraid to touch books I have opened. And I fear no secret you might hold." "No, you are not afraid," admitted the priestess. "You are honorable, and foolish—and a poet. I hope the first and last will wipe out the middle one in time. Nevertheless, I will tell you some." She stood up now, and drew out a map. "Here is Leptar," she pointed to one island. Then her finger moved over water to another. "This is Aptor. Now you know as much about it as any ordinary person in Leptar might. Aptor is a barbaric land, uncivilized. Yet they occasionally show some insidious organization. Tell me, what legends of the Great Fire have you heard?" "I know that beasts are supposed to have come from the sea and destroyed the world's harbors, and that birds spat fire from the sky." "The older sailors," said the priestess, "will tell you that these were beasts and birds of Aptor. Of course, there is fifteen hundred years of retelling and distortion in a tradition never written down, and perhaps Aptor has simply become a synonym for everything evil, but these stories still give you some idea. Chronicles, which only three or four people have had access to, tell me that once five hundred years ago, the forces of Aptor actually attempted to invade Leptar. The references to it are vague. I do not know how far it went nor how successful it was, but its methods were insidious and very unlike any invasion you may have read of in history. So unlike, that records of it were destroyed, and no mention of it is made in the histories given to school children. "Only recently have I had a chance to learn how strange and inhuman they were. And I have good reason to believe that the forces of Aptor are congealing once more, a sluggish but huge amoeba of horror. Once fully awake, once launched, it will be irrevocable. Tendrils have reached into us for the past few years, probed, and then withdrawn before they were recognized. Sometimes they dealt catastrophic blows to the center of Leptar's government and religion. All this has been assiduously kept from the people. I have been sent to clear perhaps just one more veil from our ignorance. And if you can help me in that, you are welcome." "What of the jewels, and of Hama?" inquired Geo. "Is he a god of Aptor under whom these forces are being marshaled? And are these jewels sacred to him in some way?" "Both are true, and both are not true enough," replied the priestess. "And one more thing. You say the last attempted invasion by Aptor into Leptar was five hundred years ago? It was five hundred years ago that the religion of Argo in Leptar purged all her rituals and instituted new ones. Was there some connection between the invasion and the purge?" "I am sure of it," declared the priestess. "But I do not know what it is. However, let me now tell you the story of the jewels. The one I wear at my neck was captured, somehow, from Aptor during that first invasion. That we captured it may well be the reason that we are still a free nation today. Since then it has been guarded carefully in the temple of the Goddess Argo, its secrets well protected, along with those few chronicles which mention the invasion, which ended, incidentally, only a month before the purges. Then, about a year ago, a small hoard of horror reached our shore from Aptor. I cannot describe it. I did not see any of what transpired. But they made their way inland, and managed to kidnap Argo herself." "You mean Argo incarnate? The highest priestess?" "Yes. Each generation, as you know, the youngest daughter of the past generation's highest priestess is chosen as the living incarnation of the white Goddess Argo. She is reared and taught by the wisest priests and priestesses. Her youngest daughter, when she dies, becomes Argo. At any rate, she was kidnaped. One of the assailants was hacked down; instantly it decayed, rotted on the floor of the convent corridor. But from the putrescent mass of flesh, we salvaged a second jewel from Aptor. And before it died, it was heard to utter the lines I quoted to you before. So, I have been sent then, to find what I can of the enemy, and to rescue or to find the fate of my sister." "I will do whatever I can," said Geo, "to help save Leptar and to discover the whereabouts of your sister priestess." "More than my sister priestess," said the woman softly, "my sister in blood. I am the other daughter of the last Argo: that is why this task fell to me. And until she is found dead, or returned alive ..." here she rose from her bench, "... I am the White Goddess Argo Incarnate." Geo dropped his eyes as Argo lifted her veil. Once more that evening she held forth the jewel. "There are three of these," she said. "Hama's sign is a black disk with three white eyes. Each eye represents a jewel. With the first invasion, they probably carried all three jewels, for they are the center of their power. Without them, they would have been turned back immediately. With them, they thought themselves invincible. But we captured one, and very soon unlocked its secrets. I have no guards with me. With this jewel I need none. I am as safe as I would be with an army, and capable of nearly as much destruction. When they came to kidnap my sister a year ago, I am convinced they carried both of their remaining jewels, thinking that we had either lost, or did not know the power of the first. Anyway, they reasoned, they had two to our one. But now, we have two, and they are left with only one. Through some complete carelessness, your little thief stole one from me as I was about to board when we first departed two months ago. Today he probably recognized me and intended to exact some fee for its return. But now, he will be put to a true thief's task. He must steal for me the third and final jewel from Hama for me. Then we shall have Aptor, and be rid of their evil." "And where is this third jewel?" asked Geo. "Perhaps," said the woman, "perhaps it is lodged in the forehead of the statue of the dark god Hama that sits in the guarded palace somewhere in the center of the jungles of Aptor. Do you think your thief will find himself challenged enough?" "I think so," answered Geo. "Somewhere in that same palace is my sister, or her remains. You are to find them, and if she is alive, bring her back with you." "And what of the jewels?" asked Geo. "When will you show us their power so that we may use them to penetrate the palace of Hama?" "I will show you their power," said Argo, smiling. With one hand she held up the map over which she had spoken. With the other she tapped the white jewel with her pale fingernail. The map suddenly blackened at one edge, and then flared. Argo walked to a brazier and deposited the flaming paper. Then she turned again to Geo. "I can fog the brain of a single person, as I did with Snake; or I can bewilder a hundred men. As easily as I can fire a dried, worn map, I can raze a city." "With those to help," smiled Geo, "I think we have a fair chance to reach this Hama, and return." But the smile with which she answered his was strange, and then suddenly it was completely gone. "Do you think," she said, "that I would put such temptation in your hands? You might be captured, and if so, then the jewels would be in the hands of Aptor once more." "But with them we would be so powerful...." "They have been captured once; we cannot take the chance that they be captured again. If you reach the palace, if you can steal the third jewel, if my sister is alive, and if you can rescue her, then she will know how to employ its power to manipulate your escape. However, if you and your friends do not accomplish all these things, the trip will be useless; and so perhaps death would be better than a return to watch the wrath of Argo in her dying struggle, for you would feel it more horribly than even the most malicious torture of Aptor's evil." Geo did not speak. "Why do you look so strangely?" asked Argo. "You have your poetry, your spells, your scholarship. Don't you believe in their power? Go back to your berth, and send the thief to me." The last words were a sharp order, and Geo turned from the room into the night's darkness. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.