window.
“Quite a sight, First Prester—eh?” he said. “What do people in Obann call that animal?”
“A hallucination,” Reesh said. “I can only say, Mardar, that we have no name for it. I have never seen or heard of such an animal. But I have heard many reports of strange beasts seen in many parts of the country. I never quite believed them until now.”
“Whatever it was,” Kyo said, “it was wise enough not to attack a band of armed men. I don’t think we’ll see it again.”
Gallgoid hopped down from the roof of the coach. “You saw it, Excellency?” he said.
Reesh nodded. “A most remarkable sight.”
“Whatever it was, the horses didn’t like it,” Gallgoid said. “Another minute, and they would’ve all bolted. Prester Orth, are you all right? Your face has gone all pale.”
“I’m fine—just startled,” Orth lied.
“My lord,” said Gallgoid, “the rest of our people have run away.”
Reesh glared at him. He’d picked those men himself. Now all he had left were Orth and Gallgoid.
“Mardar Kyo, I need those men,” he said.
“For what?” Kyo scowled. “No point chasing such cowards. At Kara Karram you will be given better men.” His horse fidgeted under him, and he paused to bring it back under control.
“Well, we need not stay here any longer,” Kyo said. “We can cover another twenty miles before we make camp for the night.”
Their journey resumed. Reesh sat still, thinking. Orth was glad Reesh didn’t want to talk: not just now.
He, too, like everyone in Obann, had heard of sightings of unnatural beasts. The ignorant people in the city and the crazed, self-appointed prophets in the streets said the strange beasts were omens of God’s judgment, forerunners of God’s wrath. For the first time in many years Orth wondered if the Scriptures were true, after all. It had been so long since he’d let God enter into his thoughts, he might as well not have believed in Him at all. But now the monster from the pool had made a wide breach in his indifference; and through it, God came in—an angry God who knew, even if no man knew, that Orth, who presented himself to men as God’s servant, was an apostate and a traitor: an angry God who would judge him for those sins.
“I have sinned,” thought Orth; and he noticed, for the first time, that his fingertips were cold.
At long last Lord Reesh found something for which he’d been ransacking his memories without knowing what it was.
It was his lifelong avocation to collect relics from the days of Obann’s Empire, a thousand years ago—cryptic artifacts, some of them made of materials unlike anything known to living men, for purposes that no living man could know. When he became First Prester, famous and powerful, he let it be widely known that he was interested in such things and would pay good prices for them. People brought him artifacts from all over Obann, and he kept them in a special room in the Temple.
One day, many years ago, a farmer from somewhere in the South brought him not an artifact, but a skull: a dragon’s skull, the yokel said. Certainly it was big enough to be a dragon’s skull; it took up all the room in his wagon. It had teeth like butchers’ knives and was as long as a man was tall. The lower jaw was missing. Reesh marveled at it, but because it was no manmade object, he didn’t buy it.
What else could it be, he thought at the time, but some scriptural creature that perished in the Great Shaking, ages and ages ago? The Book of Beginnings named several animals whose identities scholars could only guess at—animals that didn’t exist in Obann anymore. Probably the skull had once belonged to one of them. It was interesting, but not what Reesh was interested in. So he’d told the farmer to take it away.
It seemed now that some of those creatures hadn’t quite died off. They must have survived in other countries and now for some reason were coming back to Obann. But surely it was
“Quite a sight, First Prester—eh?” he said. “What do people in Obann call that animal?”
“A hallucination,” Reesh said. “I can only say, Mardar, that we have no name for it. I have never seen or heard of such an animal. But I have heard many reports of strange beasts seen in many parts of the country. I never quite believed them until now.”
“Whatever it was,” Kyo said, “it was wise enough not to attack a band of armed men. I don’t think we’ll see it again.”
Gallgoid hopped down from the roof of the coach. “You saw it, Excellency?” he said.
Reesh nodded. “A most remarkable sight.”
“Whatever it was, the horses didn’t like it,” Gallgoid said. “Another minute, and they would’ve all bolted. Prester Orth, are you all right? Your face has gone all pale.”
“I’m fine—just startled,” Orth lied.
“My lord,” said Gallgoid, “the rest of our people have run away.”
Reesh glared at him. He’d picked those men himself. Now all he had left were Orth and Gallgoid.
“Mardar Kyo, I need those men,” he said.
“For what?” Kyo scowled. “No point chasing such cowards. At Kara Karram you will be given better men.” His horse fidgeted under him, and he paused to bring it back under control.
“Well, we need not stay here any longer,” Kyo said. “We can cover another twenty miles before we make camp for the night.”
Their journey resumed. Reesh sat still, thinking. Orth was glad Reesh didn’t want to talk: not just now.
He, too, like everyone in Obann, had heard of sightings of unnatural beasts. The ignorant people in the city and the crazed, self-appointed prophets in the streets said the strange beasts were omens of God’s judgment, forerunners of God’s wrath. For the first time in many years Orth wondered if the Scriptures were true, after all. It had been so long since he’d let God enter into his thoughts, he might as well not have believed in Him at all. But now the monster from the pool had made a wide breach in his indifference; and through it, God came in—an angry God who knew, even if no man knew, that Orth, who presented himself to men as God’s servant, was an apostate and a traitor: an angry God who would judge him for those sins.
“I have sinned,” thought Orth; and he noticed, for the first time, that his fingertips were cold.
At long last Lord Reesh found something for which he’d been ransacking his memories without knowing what it was.
It was his lifelong avocation to collect relics from the days of Obann’s Empire, a thousand years ago—cryptic artifacts, some of them made of materials unlike anything known to living men, for purposes that no living man could know. When he became First Prester, famous and powerful, he let it be widely known that he was interested in such things and would pay good prices for them. People brought him artifacts from all over Obann, and he kept them in a special room in the Temple.
One day, many years ago, a farmer from somewhere in the South brought him not an artifact, but a skull: a dragon’s skull, the yokel said. Certainly it was big enough to be a dragon’s skull; it took up all the room in his wagon. It had teeth like butchers’ knives and was as long as a man was tall. The lower jaw was missing. Reesh marveled at it, but because it was no manmade object, he didn’t buy it.
What else could it be, he thought at the time, but some scriptural creature that perished in the Great Shaking, ages and ages ago? The Book of Beginnings named several animals whose identities scholars could only guess at—animals that didn’t exist in Obann anymore. Probably the skull had once belonged to one of them. It was interesting, but not what Reesh was interested in. So he’d told the farmer to take it away.
It seemed now that some of those creatures hadn’t quite died off. They must have survived in other countries and now for some reason were coming back to Obann. But surely it was
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