The Limbreth Gate. Megan Lindholm
walked into the side of her own wagon before she saw it. She grumbled at the blackness and made her way by feel up onto the seat. Inside the cuddy she groped through the familiar space until she found her lantern. Senseless to drive the team in this blackness. She would have to walk before them with a light, at least until she reached the Gate.
Friendly Sigmund nuzzled against her in greeting. She gave the huge grey horse an affectionate slap on the shoulder. But surly Sigurd turned his head aside and shifted his feathered feet in the dust. He considered it no treat to be left standing in harness while his owner refreshed herself. When she chirruped to them, they both leaned into their harness readily enough, following at her heels like huge dogs. The wagon came ponderously after them, the sounds of its passage muffled by the dust.
The night city eluded her eyes. Every familiar landmark was just beyond the reach of her lantern circle. She moved down nameless streets in what could have been any town, hearing only the creak and jangle of her wagon. She counted intersections, praying that she would not mix streets with alleys. If she made one wrong turning, all the boy’s directions would be useless. At least the streets were paved well. Squat mud brick houses crouched at either side of them. Most of them were dark. Here and there a dim candle glow seeped from one of the small windows or through worn doorslats, but it was not enough to illuminate the streets. Ki paced on in her own small circle of light.
She took the last turn in her instructions. Now, if the boy had given them correctly, and if she had followed them accurately, the Gate should be straight ahead. Ki walked on slowly, resisting the urge to keep step with her thudding heart. He would be all right. If he had been alive enough to send a messenger with directions, then he could not be badly injured, perhaps not at all. She gave a small shudder as she thought of the Brurjan Rouster she had glimpsed earlier. He had worn a black leather harness, with the hated emblem of a burning wheel upon it. She could have made two Vandiens from his bulk, and still have material left over. She hoped he hadn’t met that one.
The city walls loomed suddenly before her. Ki cursed. There was no Gate. All was blackness below the parapet, and black with stars above it. She had missed the Gate. She’d have to go back. She could follow the wall and hope to find the Gate that way – but follow it in which direction? If she chose the wrong one, it could be hours before she knew it, and then she would have to retrace her steps. Damn the man! He wished she were more impulsive, did he? Well, if she followed her impulses when she found him, his ears would ring for a week.
Ki calmed her temper and steadied her breathing. Just as she was halting the team to decide which way to go, her eyes caught a glimmer of ruddy light. She turned toward it and saw nothing. But this time a light caught her eye from the opposite corner. Puzzled, she turned back more slowly. There was the Gate.
Her heart settled into her belly. Some trick of the wall’s projection, or the Cinmeth, had shielded it from her eyes. Now the rectangle of torchlight grew larger as she led her team toward it. But as she drew closer, she saw that the Limbreth Gate was lit by no torches she could see. Ki’s lantern did not even illuminate it; rather, the light of it bounced back to her as if it could not penetrate the stone that outlined the Gate. There was no portcullis, indeed, no barrier to entry or exit that she could see at all. It was larger than the North Gate she and Vandien had come in by. She wondered how she could have missed it. A vague uneasiness about this Gate roiled in her belly; she closed her eyes tightly for a long moment and then opened them slowly. Damn Cinmeth. No guards leaned against the wall, but a single watcher crouched in the center of the Gate, blocking her path.
Man or woman, Ki could not tell; it wasn’t even a race she was familiar with. The ragged clothing that swathed it could have been white or grey or pale blue. The red glow of the Gate baffled her eyes, making shapes of shadows, and shadows of shapes. The Keeper stared at her, unspeaking. Hidden eyes bored into her despite its veiled features.
‘Is this the Limbreth Gate?’ Ki’s tongue felt thick and even to her the question sounded inane.
‘If you come seeking it, then you know that it is.’ The voice was as deep as a rumbling from the earth itself. The phrasing was as peculiar as the tavern boy’s words. For some reason Ki felt nettled by them.
‘Well, I came seeking it because I intend to go through it. Are you going to move or look at the bottom of my wagon?’
‘Are you Ki, the Romni teamster?’
She stiffened. She did not like the idea of giving names at midnight gates, especially when he classed her as a Romni. Were there Rousters waiting beyond the Gate? But he had called her Ki, so perhaps it was Vandien who had been so free with her name. ‘I am,’ she snapped, feeling suddenly reckless.
‘We have been expecting you. All is ready for you to pass through the Gate. Enter slowly.’
Ki frowned. Every muscle in her body tensed as she saw his tri-fingered hand wave a signal to someone. Rousters or Vandien? Too late to flee if it were Rousters. Heightened awareness battled with drink as she led her team under the reddened lintel. The red light was like peering through a fog. For an instant she caught sight of another figure within the Gate. A tall woman, robed in pale green, her eyes swollen with weeping. Ki thought she shook in fear as she stumbled forward, but it could have been a trick of wavering red light. She saw her for only that instant, but her resemblance to the boy in the tavern was great. The same pale hair flowed upon her shoulders, and she had the same fragile bones and skin. So perhaps someone did care for the boy. Ki hoped so.
A spasm of vertigo passed through Ki, so that she felt she swam forward through thick warm water. Cinmeth, she thought, half closing her eyes and striding doggedly on. Never again. It passed in an instant and she opened her eyes to the night outside the Gate. The air had changed. Even the horses tossed their heads in a flurry of manes and blew out approvingly. The air washed over them all in a warm wave, with the barest tinge of a cool edge to soothe weary eyes. Ki smelled the perfume of night flowers and the warm mossy scents that woods breathe out at midday. How different this from the dusty, stony city!
‘Vandien?’ she called questioningly. She lifted her lantern high. Its light touched slender grey treetrunks. Trees? The North Gate had entered the city from a barren plain of yellow grass. But she had forgotten how old Jojorum was. Had not she heard that it had once been fabled for its gardens? Perhaps these were they, long untended and come back to dominance. At least the road remained good. Moss crept in soft tongues across it, but it was flat and straight, not buckled nor heaved with age. Her wagon rolled silently behind her, the hoofbeats of her team cushioned now by moss. There was moisture in the air, and peace. The very night seemed less dark around her.
So where in hell was Vandien? Even if he were lying senseless by the road, his horse should have whinnied to her team. If they had left him his horse. ‘Whoa!’ The team stood. ‘Vandien!’ Her worried voice sounded shrill in the friendly night, muffled by the peace. She walked around her wagon, back toward the Gate. Perhaps the Keeper could tell her something of Vandien.
The Gate was a fiery rectangle against the darkness, its brightness obscuring all else. Ki felt her eyes water as she stared at it, and she was finally forced to turn her eyes aside. ‘Gatekeeper!’ she cried. ‘The man who told you to watch for me; where is he? She risked a glance at the glowing Gate. The Keeper was a darker huddle in the center.
‘Go down the road.’ His voice was fainter than the distance explained. ‘Just follow the road toward the lights on the horizon.’
Ki swung her eyes away from the Keeper and Gate again. It had not seemed so bright from the city side. She focused her eyes on the black ground, letting them readjust to the darkness. Her own small lantern seemed dim after the Gate. It was as she was looking down to let her eyes clear that she saw the tracks of a single horse, its hoofprints cut in the moss and all but obscured by the heavy marks of her team. Ki moved back to the front of her team and walked slowly down the road. No sign was on the road itself, but here and there were marks that cut right through the moss to the road’s black surface. The horse was heavy with a rider, and the rider had been in a hurry. Well, at least he had shown that much sense. She was glad he had gotten clear of the city before waiting for her. The farther they were from the Gates, the less likely that Rousters would bother them. She