I turned to look to the bed I had left. What lifted heavy head and looked at me green-eyed? Fur, sleek and shining fur, the fanged mask of awakening fury—A mountain cat, yet not a cat—but also death. The lips wrinkled, showing even more the fangs meant to tear, to devour—It was horror beyond any horror I had ever dreamed upon.
This—this you have chosen!—
In that moment by the words which rang in my head did evil defeat itself. Maybe with another it would have succeeded—but for me that broke the spell. And what I looked upon now was two, one over lying the other, furred hide above smooth skin, a beast mask over a face—only the green eyes were not two but one. And if they had flashed battle on their opening, now did they show intelligence and knowledge.
I went towards that thing which was now beast, now man. But because I could see the man I was no longer afraid of what shared my chamber. Though of that which had awakened me, sent me to the window—of that I was frightened.
“You are Herrel—” I said to the beast-man. And with my speech he became wholly man, the beast vanishing as if it had never been.
“But you saw me—otherwise—” He made a statement, he did not question.
“In the moonlight—I did.”
He moved, out of the bed until he stood at its foot.
Faced towards the door I could now see, he moved his hands in the air, at the same time uttering words in a tongue I did not understand.
There was a glow by the door which was not silver clear as the moon, but carried the green tinge of the Rider lamps, and from that glow were two small runnels of light, one to the bed where he had lain, the other to my feet.
Once again I witnessed the mergence of man and beast, this time because of anger burning in him. But control won and he was man again. Herrel caught up a cloak and threw it about his shoulders, went to the door. Then, his hand already set to the latch, he looked back at me.
“Perhaps it is just as well—” he could have been arguing with himself. “Yes, it is better—Only,” now he did speak to me, “let them see that you have had a fright. Can you scream?”
What play he intended I could not guess, but I had faith in his wisdom for us both. Summoning up what art I could, I screamed, and surprised myself with the shrill note of terror I put into that cry.
No longer was the building silent. Herrel threw open the door and then ran back to me. His arms drew me dose as one who would comfort and his whisper in my ear suggested further display of terror on my part.
There was more outcries, running feet, and then lamp light Hyron was there, looking at us. Captain of the Riders I had seen him only at a distance, now he wore the face of a man wanting a satisfactory explanation.
“What chances here?”
Herrel’s moment of counselling aided me. “I awoke and was warm—too warm. I thought I must open wide the window—” Now I raised my hand uncertainly to my head as if I felt faint. “Then I turned and saw a great beast—”
There was a moment of silence and Herrel had the breaking of it.
“Look you—” that was more order than request. He pointed before me to where that green line crawled across the floor. Faded now from our first sighting though it was, it was still visible.
Hyron looked, and then, grim faced, he raised his eyes again to Herrel.
“You want sword right?”
“Against whom, Captain? I have no proof.”
“True enough. And it would be well not to seek it—in these hours.”
“Do you lay that upon me?” Herrel’s voice was very cool and remote.
“You know where we must ride and why. Is this the time for private quarrels?”
“The quarrel is none of my provoking.” Hyron nodded, but I felt that his assent was given reluctantly, that he had taken the matter ill, as though this was some trouble pushed upon him which only duty made him consider seriously.
“This game or others like it must not be played again.” Herrel continued. “There is no nay-saying cloak-spell. Did we not all swear to that, weapon-oath?”
Again Hyron nodded. “There will be no trouble.” And that also rang like an oath.
When we were again alone I faced Herrel in the moonlight.
“What arrow was aimed at us this night?” But he did not answer that, rather did he look at me very searchingly and ask:
“You saw a beast, yet you did not flee?”
“I saw a beast and a man, and of the man I had no fear. But tell me, for this was clearly sent by malice, what chanced?”
“A spell was set, to disgust you with me, perhaps to send you running to another who waited. Tell me. Why did you seek the window?”
“Because I was—ordered—” That was it! I had been ordered from my sleep to do just that. “Is it Halse?”
“It might well be. Or there are others—I told you, none believed that you or any woman would choose my cloak. Having accomplished this. I have in a little belittled their power in their own eyes. Thus, they would like to see me fail now. By frightening you with shape change they would drive you away.”
“Shape change—Then you do wear this guise when it is needed?”
But to that he did not answer at once. He went to the window and looked out into the silence of the night.
“Does it give you fear of me to know this?”
“I do not know. I feared, yes, when I first saw—But with the undersight perhaps you will always be a man to me.”
He turned back to me, but his face was now in shadow. “I promise you this weapon-oath, Gillan, willingly never will I fright you!”
For an instant only did I see fur on his shoulders, a mountain cat’s muzzle in place of his face? But I willed to see a man, and I thereafter did.
6
Trial by Sword
“Are there no mirrors in your household? Does demon lore speak true thereof?” I strove to rebraid my hair. By touch alone that was an unhandy business.
A laugh behind me, and then, swept over my head and down, held for my convenience, a mirror indeed. But this of shining metal, meant rather to ward battle stroke than to provide an aid for adornment. Wan and strange did my reflection look back at me from that shield surface; still it did guide my hands in the ordering of my hair. My pins were half missing and the final coiling looser than I wished.
“You have taken up rough housing, Gillan—unless you wish to see it as the others do—” There was question in that.
“Matters as they are suit me very well indeed.” I made quick reply. “I have a liking for facing what I must with a clear head. Herrel, what do we have to fear?”
“Most of all discovery.” He had slung sword on a shoulder baldric which was set with the same milky gems as those of his belt buckle. And now he held in his two hands a helm, wrought of silver, or so it looked. For a crest it had no plume such as those worn by the fighting lords of High Hallack, but a small figure, marvellously made, a thing of rare beauty, in the form of a crouching, snarling mountain cat, preparing to launch in attack-spring.
Discovery, he said. And the burden of escaping such discovery fell largely on me. Herrel must have read my dawning knowledge in my face for he came to me swiftly.
“I do not think we have aught to fear this day, for the trickery in the night will make them wary. But if you again sense anything strange tell me. There is this,” beneath his helm his eyes had the same cold glitter of the jewels in the eye sockets of the silver cat.”perhaps you have chosen ill after all, Gillan. I can not stand against Halse, or the others in spell weaving. But should I learn which one would attack so, then I may challenge sword battle, and they can not nay-say me. Only, to so speak I must have proof that he who I would meet is indeed guilty. I can lay no wall about you—”