Andre Norton - Witch World - The Warding of Witch World

Warding of Witch World

By Andre Norton

Warding of Witch World ...................................................................................................... 1

By Andre Norton ............................................................................................................. 1

PROLOGUE ONE ......................................................................................................... 4

Escore-Alizon Border ..................................................................................................... 4

PROLOGUE TWO ......................................................................................................... 8

Arvon Kar Garudiyn (Castle of the Gryphon) ............................................................... 8

PROLOGUE THREE .................................................................................................... 10

Shrine of Gunnora, South of Var ................................................................................. 10

CHAPTER ONE ........................................................................................................... 15

The Ingathering at Es City ........................................................................................... 15

CHAPTER TWO .......................................................................................................... 20

Krevanel Hold, Alizon .................................................................................................. 20

CHAPTER THREE ....................................................................................................... 26

Lormt ........................................................................................................................... 26

CHAPTER FOUR ........................................................................................................ 32

Karsten ......................................................................................................................... 32

CHAPTER FIVE .......................................................................................................... 38

Unknown Land South of Var ....................................................................................... 38

CHAPTER SIX ............................................................................................................. 43

Karsten Southward ...................................................................................................... 43

CHAPTER SEVEN ...................................................................................................... 48

Karsten, Southeast of Var ............................................................................................ 48

CHAPTER EIGHT ........................................................................................................ 53

Unknown South Karsten .............................................................................................. 53

CHAPTER NINE ......................................................................................................... 59

Lormt, South Karsten .................................................................................................. 59

CHAPTER TEN ........................................................................................................... 65

The Mountain Ways South of Var ................................................................................ 65

CHAPTER ELEVEN .................................................................................................... 71

Into the Unseen, the Unknown, Southward ................................................................. 71

CHAPTER TWELVE ................................................................................................... 76

Jungle Passage, Unknown South ................................................................................. 76

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ................................................................................................ 83

The City Lost to Memory, South .................................................................................. 83

CHAPTER FOURTEEN ............................................................................................... 88

Blood Magic, Lost City ................................................................................................ 88

CHAPTER FIFTEEN ................................................................................................... 94

Lormt, South, the Forgotten City ................................................................................ 94

Interlude: Lormt ......................................................................................................... 100

CHAPTER SIXTEEN ................................................................................................. 103

Arvon, Gryphon Country, Northwest ........................................................................ 103

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ........................................................................................... 108

Arvon, Reeth, Gryphon's Eyrie .................................................................................. 108

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN .............................................................................................. 114

Arvon, Gryphon's Eyrie, Silvermantle Holdings ........................................................ 114

CHAPTER NINETEEN .............................................................................................. 120

Southwest into the Waste ........................................................................................... 120

CHAPTER TWENTY ................................................................................................. 126

By Moon Power, In the Waste .................................................................................... 126

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE ....................................................................................... 132

The Hold of Sassfang, the Waste, South .................................................................... 132

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ...................................................................................... 137

The Fane of the Three, the Waste, West .................................................................... 137

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ................................................................................... 143

The Meeting in the Waste, West ................................................................................. 143

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ..................................................................................... 149

Gryphon's Eyrie, Arvon, Western Trail, the Waste .................................................... 149

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE ....................................................................................... 153

The Wellspring of Evil, the Waste, West .................................................................... 153

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX ......................................................................................... 159

The Web Lands, The Waste, West .............................................................................. 159

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN ................................................................................... 164

The Wing Ways, the Waste, West ............................................................................... 164

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT .................................................................................... 170

The Seeking, the Waste .............................................................................................. 170

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE ...................................................................................... 176

The Road to the Land of the Dead, the Waste ........................................................... 176

CHAPTER THIRTY ................................................................................................... 181

An End and a Beginning, the Waste ........................................................................... 181

Interlude: Es Port, Es City, Estcarp .......................................................................... 186

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE ......................................................................................... 189

Korinth, North of Alizon ............................................................................................ 189

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO ......................................................................................... 195

Korinth, the Northern Sea ......................................................................................... 195

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE ...................................................................................... 200

The North Sea ............................................................................................................ 200

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR ....................................................................................... 205

West Coast Voyage, North ......................................................................................... 205

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE ......................................................................................... 211

End of the World, North ............................................................................................ 211

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX ........................................................................................... 215

The Reading of the Runes ........................................................................................... 215

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN ..................................................................................... 220

The Drawing in of the Dark, North ........................................................................... 220

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT ...................................................................................... 225

Into the Land of Ice, North ........................................................................................ 225

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE ........................................................................................ 230

The Lair of the Ice Worms, North .............................................................................. 230

CHAPTER FORTY .................................................................................................... 235

The Ice Palace, North ................................................................................................ 235

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE .......................................................................................... 240

A Meeting of Powers, North ...................................................................................... 240

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO .......................................................................................... 245

Into the Halls of Ice, North ........................................................................................ 245

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE ....................................................................................... 250

Through the Mists of Time, North ............................................................................. 250

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR ........................................................................................ 254

The Ship out of Time, North ...................................................................................... 254

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE .......................................................................................... 259

Gate Fall and New Day's Dawning, North ................................................................ 259

EPILOGUE ................................................................................................................. 265

Es City, Estcarp ......................................................................................................... 265

PROLOGUE ONE

Escore-Alizon Border

Simon Tregarth reined in his Torgian stallion beneath the heavy dull gray of the threatening sky.

This was wild country with little in it to attract the eye—rather, one looked from side to side with a rising

sense of caution. His own inborn talent of foreseeing, limited as that was compared to the Powers which

could be wielded by those about him, had been awake and pricking him since they had broken camp this

morning. There was undoubtedly trouble awaiting them ahead—but where did it not wait in this land of

ancient sorcery and struggling Powers?

This was not only a gray-beclouded morning; even as far north as they had ridden it was also

humid, tempting a man to rid himself of helm and mail, to reach more than was prudent for the saddle

flask of water.

"You can always smell it—evil cannot rid itself of its taint!" A younger rider joined him on the

hillock, from which they could see the rising land before them. Even time and erosion had not been

enough to disguise the fact that the undulating strip of land edging the foothills had once known the

control of man—or something else as determined to wring what was wanted from nature.

Simon grinned at his eldest son. Kyllan was a warrior first, but he was also talented to some

degree. His helm side veils of mail lay pushed back on his broad shoulders and his head was lifted, his

nostrils expanded as if indeed he were following some quarry, hound fashion.

*Some evil lingers — but not born of our time.* The animal Kyllan bestrode also held its head

high. A Renthan of the Green Valley, Wegan was no less intelligent than his human companions.

"A trap?" Simon crossed thought patterns with the Renthan.

*No — * Then that thought was broken. *Gray Ones!* Wegan's warning shrilled through the

minds of both the men.

Simon did not question in the least that warning, even though his own senses — sight, hearing,

scent — caught nothing to betray evil ahead.

The warning had carried also to the rest of their scouting party. They were a mixed lot, but such

could be always raised in Escore these days. For in the very ancient home of the Power-born there was

a stirring, a sense that the age-long sleep had been broken, perhaps forever. Their party had struck out

today because of vague warnings — vague so far. But those keeping the wards were ever alert to the

least shift detected by talent.

So in their group rode three of the Green Valley who had held so long only to their own safe

refuge: Hatturan, Varse, and Jonka. Beside their Renthans strode the war Torgians of the Old Race who

had returned from exile: Yonan and Urik of the Axe, both of whom had known Escore as once it had

been; Sentkar, a drifter from the Border wars; Denner out of Lormt; and one who had added himself

brazenly to the squad on the second day after they had left their base camp — Keris, Kyllan's son.

Now that youth stirred in his saddle, and his hand jerked a little in the direction of his sword hilt.

He reddened and quickly dropped it on the saddle horn, darting a glance at Yonan to see if his

overeagerness for a face-off had been detected.

After all, battle skill was all he could bring to bear against the enemy. He carried always the

burden of his lack of talent. All that fortune had been bestowed upon his twin sister. However, fortune

had at least favored him with a natural ability with sword and dart gun.

After it had been realized that he was one of them, Keris had been allowed to continue with

them, mainly because this was a land where no sane man rode alone. But that he was steadily ignored by

both his father and his grandfather made him very sure that there was going to be a harsh reckoning

sooner or later.

Before them, swirls of mist arose from humps on the plain which spoke of former buildings. Keris

remembered one of the many legends which were part of the Valley lore of his childhood — that a man

oathed to a duty and slain before he had accomplished it continued to exist as a thin shadow of himself

until his purpose was accomplished.

Perhaps they stood now on what was once a battlefield. Not for the first time Keris knew the

pinch of loss which had been his when he came squalling into the world. Half-blood, yes, but his half of

that blood did not carry with it the Power — not as it had with his sister. He had the appearance of his

father, but not even the limited gifts Kyllan knew — nothing of his mother's strong talents.

Simon Tregarth straightened in the saddle, brought his mail wreathing about lower face and

throat. Perhaps to ride on was rank folly, but his years of battle with the Dark forces had taught him that

confrontation was the best of answers. Kyllan's Renthan had swung around and was now facing due

north as his rider also made ready for action.

The Gray Ones arose out of the misty mounds silent as those swirls of fog, coming in their

hideous fashion, some on two feet, some on feet and hands, their dirty gray coats matted with burrs and

dried mud. It was plain that they had come from some distance and with haste. At what summoning?

Simon sent his stallion down from the hillock and directed the rest of the squad to close in a circle

with that high ground to their backs. The count of the attacking force was somewhat reassuring. This was

not a full pack and Simon was sure that they came to this brush already weary. He shot.

The dart from his weapon caught the leader of the pack in the shoulder and the creature howled

"Yasaaahhhh!" The three of the Valley broke line to use their own most potent arms — the flame whips

— and each found its mark.

The Gray Ones wavered. Either these had a caution not usually known to their kind or else they

had some order keeping them from moving in. But the fact that they occupied this territory was an added

worry. Gray Ones normally fought by haunting the night, patrolling camps, pulling down stragglers, not

this openly.

There was no need for one man to give an order to another in such a struggle as this. And those

from the Valley were used to handling such threats. Even so, Simon took aim and fired a second dart —

not at the leader of the pack this time but at one who skulked behind his fellows for some reason.

The creature leaped into the air, twisted oddly in upon itself, and crashed flat into the mosslike

vegetation which carpeted the plain.

That might have been a signal. Yowling threats, the pack drew back, plainly unwilling. And,

against their usual custom, two of them picked up the last downed, though they left two other bodies

behind them.

The mist appeared to grow thicker. Kyllan unleashed what power he had and linked with the

Valley scouts. Together they were able to weave a probe — not that it could do more than just let them

know for sure what they already guessed: that there was some Dark Power ahead which was determined

to keep its territory inviolate.

It was Urik, his great axe out of his shoulder sling, who swung his Torgian around, but Keris

moved with the swifter agility of youth. One of the mounds before them had cracked open as if some

planted seed was fiercely inspired to reach the upper world. From the riven soil emerged Sarn Riders,

their reptilian steeds' necks stretched to full length so that they could threaten with green-streaked fangs.

As did the Valley dwellers, the Sarn Riders carried whips with dark lashes — but the force from those

was not marked by flame, rather by shadows. Shadows which could bite and tear and eat away the skin.

Simon shot, though he knew that there was little chance of his bolt dart going home. There was

always speculation that the Sarn Riders were not altogether material as this world knew that state of

nature.

He was aware that Kyllan, Sentkar, and Yonan were drawing swords. And the swords forged in

the Valley had more than just a cutting edge to protect their wielders.

Denner had bent a bow. He was a famous shot, Simon knew, but an arrow against these devils

was only a shaft of little power. As had Simon, he coolly picked a target and shot.

A Sarn lash flicked skyward so fast it was a mere trace in the air, to catch that arrow. There was

a burst of bluish fire. Then a line of flame ran down the whiplash before its owner could throw it from

him, and he doubled in upon his mount. There was no sound to be heard, but Simon swayed a little in his

saddle and Keris nearly fell from his. For the cry which had tortured their minds was enough to shake

them for that moment. And both rider and mount were now gone.

Stolidly Denner made ready a second arrow. There were, Keris noted, only five of the arrows

left and he was sure that in their way they were more precious than many a name-famed sword.

Denner was out of Lormt, that fabled cache of forgotten knowledge. When the Great Turning

had kept Estcarp from invasion from Karsten to the south, the force of the magic so deliberately

unleashed scored the earth itself and brought down one of Lormt's towers and part of the girding walls. It

was revealed that the masonry, thought to be so solid, really covered a veritable warren of sealed rooms

and passages, all of which appeared to be crammed with scrolls, books, and chests of strange

instruments for which there seemed no use.

The scholars who lived like gray-backed mice within those walls — some for almost the extent of

their long lives — had been so overwhelmed by the extent of these finds that they thought of little else

than burrowing a way into the next unsealed chamber.

Duratan, once of the Borders and at the time of the Turning marshal and protector of these

knowledge-mad delvers, had built up a small force of his own. From second and third sons drafted from

the surrounding farms, and from drifting Borderers whose companies had been rent apart during the

Turning, and some of their sons in turn, he had brought into being a force which had easily reckoned with

outlaws and such. It was said openly that while the masters of Lormt sought so avidly for one form of

knowledge, Duratan gathered the remnants of another. He sought fabled weapons of the far past — or at

least such descriptions that they might be brought into being again. Thus had come Denners arrows,

Keris was sure. But they must be hard to make, since the man from Lormt rode with so few in his quiver.

Now the Gray Ones had slunk back among the mounds while the Sarn Riders were veiled in by

thickening mists. Those by the hillock prepared for attack as the riders of the Valley began a low buzzing

chant. When that creeping mist reached toward them it was stopped by the Valley magic, plowed up and

down, side to side, forming a rolling wall of fog.

Though they expected the Sarn Riders to burst out, there now was no change — save that the

clouds overhead were very dark; it might be well into evening rather than midday. It began to rain, huge

drops striking at them as if they were blunt-nosed darts.

Simon stirred uneasily. Direct attack he could understand and welcomed — for the pull on him,

drawing him forward, grew stronger with every breath he drew. But he had lived many seasons now with

magic, enough to be doubly cautious of anything out of nature which his own senses could not explain.

"Jonka?"

The Valley rider's Renthan trotted closer. Under this dull sky, that peculiarity of the Valley race

— their ability to change the color of both skin and hair — had now left him gray, and against the

wanness of his hair his ivory horns were agleam.

"There is a need," he said, Simons uncertainty clear to him. "A greater trouble than we thought

lies ahead."

Simon waited, hoping the other would enlarge upon that, but it was the Renthan whose thoughts

reached him first.

*Those we have faced came at a hurry. Perhaps that which we seek has not Power enough to

raise a full range of any Dark fighters against us.* He tossed his head so that the brush of hair between

his big ears flopped near his eyes. *They may trail us if we go forward, but such is their nature they

cannot hide.*

Simon made his decision. "Loose file, then, and let us ride."

Keris knew a flash of pride. That was indeed Simon Tregarth, legend alive, and in his own veins

flowed the same blood. But he must prove it so — and this might well be his chance.

Even as he tightened hand upon the reins, that rolling wall of mist before them swirled higher and

then was suddenly gone, as if the drive of the now-steady rain had washed it away. Simon led the way,

heading out slowly with the expert ease of one used to many such scoutings, into the humped plain.

There was no sign of any Gray Ones — except the two bodies which had been left by their

fellows — and that opening in the ground from which the Sarn had erupted was gone as if it had never

been.

The Valley men took the points as they went. Simon appeared to be following as straight a

course as he could. Keris, careful not to come under his eye, rode nearly knee to knee with Denner. The

Borderer had drawn a flap over his quiver as if those remaining shafts must be protected from the rain.

Keris swallowed and then dared to ask the question he had held since he saw the bow in action.

"Is — is that — your arrows — of the old days?"

Denner was young enough to glance at his questioner with a trace of superiority. "Their making is

one of the finds of Lord Duratan. They are very hard to fashion. We do not perhaps know the full

process. But — you have seen what they can do."

"Yes — " Keris was answering when the message came, strong enough so even those untalented

could understand.

Ahead — it was very necessary to get ahead at all possible speed. Simon no longer tried to take

a trail which would lead them as far from potential ambushes as possible. Instead he gave the Torgian its

will and let it move into an increasing canter. Kyllan dropped behind, surveying the rest of their parry. His

eyes lit on his son, but there was no recognition in them — Keris might have been any of the force under

command.

They were almost across the plain. The mossy vegetation appeared to soak up the rain in a

sponge fashion, slowing their pace, but Simon was pushing now.

The first of the foothills lay before them after what seemed an endless flight of time. And ahead, in

spite of the storm, flared a orange-red glow. It seemed to be centered in space between two of the hills.

"Alizonderns!" came a warning from Jonka riding to the west. "But they are not on the move.

Their hounds are in leash and they watch what lies ahead."

Jonka was joined by Varse. The two Valley warlocks, with Renthans as powerful in their own

way, would give adequate warning were those hated westerners to descend to take a hand in this.

Alizonderns were enemies to be respected.

With the steady, slowly brightening glow of light ahead, even Keris could pick it up now—that

foul emanation which steamed forth from any invoking of the high lore of the Dark. He saw Denner

uncover his quiver.

It would seem that whoever or whatever lay ahead had some influence over the weather, for the

pelt of rain suddenly ceased as if they had come under an unseen roof, though there was no lightening of

the clouds overhead.

Simon slid out of the saddle and Kyllan nodded as he caught the reins of the Torgian his father

handed him. This was the old, old game Simon had played now for many more years than he wanted to

count. His booted feet sank ankle-deep in the wet moss as he moved forward, using every bit of cover.

The mush of the moss lasted only for a few feet and then Simon felt the rise of more solid footing.

He planned to half circle the rise to his right, trusting he could find a point from which he could see. The

Valley men and their mounts could pick up any communication he would need to make. But—for one

moment only—he held in mind the picture of another, her dark hair, her proud head high: Jaelithe. During

the past year, as they had helped to police Escore, he and Jaelithe had often been apart—but never

could he feel that something of himself was missing. Now she—

Abruptly he shut off those disturbing thoughts to concentrate on matters at hand. He had indeed

reached a kind of lookout, one that Kurnous the Head Lord himself might have arranged.

But what he looked down upon was a puzzle which he strove sharply to bring into proper focus.

There were men below, right enough. A number of them were plainly Alizondern slaves born into

hopeless labor for all their lives. Only one of the white-haired, arrogant warrior class was visible,

apparently sent to oversee the labors of the others.

Equipped with massive chains and wrist-thick ropes, they had apparently drawn into this

place—for the ground was deep-rutted behind them—two massive pillars of stone. The red light which

gave sight for their labors came not from any true fire but out of a huge kettlelike cauldron around which

stood three men of another race.

Simon's lip curled. Both those of good and those of evil had survived not only the Great War of

the adepts but all the chaos thereafter. One of those men down there he knew—not from any meeting

between them but because he had seen his image summoned up in smoke when Dahaun of the Green

Valley had sought danger near and distant.

It was Rarapon, once linked with the traitor Denzil, and as eager as that damned one to regain

power. He wore the crimson robe of an adept but kept fussing with its belt and then its collar as if it did

not fit.

The slaves were finishing their labor. Deep pits had been dug and now the stones were ready to

be raised by pulleys. Simon saw Rarapon make a quick gesture. The Alizondern noble nodded and

clicked his fingers. At that signal there were short struggles next to the pits ready to receive the ends of

the rocks. At each, two of the slaves turned on a third, one of their fellows, and hurled him down into the

dark hole, even as the pillar was allowed to crash into place.

Rarapon moved forward with a strut such as might be assumed by the leader of a great

congregation. He raised both hands high and began to weave a pattern back and forth in the air, angry

red trails following his fingers.

Now he chanted also, but the sound reached Simon only as singsong noise.

Simon needed no nudging from a talent he lacked — he knew Rarapon was striving to open a

gate! Gates were the ancient ways through which the adepts of the Great Age had explored other worlds

at their whims — whose secrets, even whose existence in most cases had been forgotten.

The gates had not only taken wanderers and wayfarers out — they had drawn them in. From

solitary venturers, such as he had been so many years ago, to whole nations like the Dalesmen of High

Hallack, the Sulcars, and various smaller bands and clans.

And they had drawn evil as well. The plague of the Kolders, who had ravaged as much of this

world as they could touch. Lately also that invasion overseas made by strange seagoing race of fanatics

whom only the skill, blood, and courage of Falconers and Dalesmen together had stopped. The

Falconers themselves, the —

None of those who survived that blast of raw magic, uncontrolled, chaotic, could afterward

honestly describe the ponderous power which had played with them. Deafened, only half conscious from

the terrible pressure against his outward senses and his inward person, Simon dimly saw the pillars bow

toward each other and fall, to crush all who had been in that narrow valley. The cauldron glow was

extinguished.

Simon rolled over on his back, his arm upheld in a gesture of pleading, to whom or what he could

not guess. Then she came. Jaelithe was as visible in his mind as if she stood before him.

"Back, get you back, Simon. Bring with you all those you can add to the force of Light. For there

has been such magic wrought as threatens an end to all our world!"

He reached for her now, but she flickered out. Nor did he understand then that the ancient Mage

Key had vanished from this plane of existence. It left behind uncontrolled, unwardered other gates against

which there would be no defense save the bodies and minds of those doomed to struggle through the

days to come.

PROLOGUE TWO

Arvon Kar Garudiyn (Castle of the Gryphon)

The day was fair, that Eydryth could not deny. She stroked her harp. Certainly a day to bring

Andre Norton - Witch World - The Warding of Witch World

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