Chapter 15: If I Had a Hammer

"The wrath of the Old God is gathered against you!" Dalliktan's diminutive blackclad figure was curiously impressive in the evening twilight, as though his darkness was magnified by the gathering shadows. "You have scoffed too often, too loud, and the Old God has reached the end of His patience. Now your doom draws near!"

The encampment still showed signs of disorder, even after a full day of cleaning up. Waves of uneasiness had swept over them at unexpected intervals all during the day, and more than once only Neal's looming presence at Prince Arragin's side had kept rebellious soldiers under control. He had kept a close eye on their moods, and guessed that the only reason more of them hadn't bolted was that they had no place to go but the empty forest. He leaned on the handle of the mace he had appropriated, thinking dark thoughts. Jewel and Amy were gone without a trace. He had no way to follow them, even if he had known which way to start, and he suspected that even a direct attack on Dalliktan's temple wouldn't get them back safely.

As the sun neared the western horizon, Dalliktan had reappeared. First had come a new and stronger wave of fear, raising the hairs on the back of Neal's neck, and then the wizened prelate had marched into the camp at the head of a delegation of his blackclad priests, leading them down the hill from where he had his temple.

"And what all must I do to appease His wrath?" Arragin's voice was silkysmooth, but his hand was clenched tight on the pommel of his sword. The prince might not consider himself much of a warrior, Neal thought, but he still had all the instincts of a fighting man.

"Pledge yourself to His service. Obey His commands. Only thus may His wrath be turned aside." Dalliktan's voice was shrill with malice as he turned his malignant gaze on Neal. "Even that may not be enough. Some deeds may only be paid for in blood!"

"My blood, I suppose." Neal's voice overrode that of the priest, and his fist tightened on the handle of his mace.

"Perhaps only that of your two helpers," Dalliktan answered spitefully from behind his thinlipped smile. "If those two were delivered to me, that might be enough."

Neal's shoulders straightened as though an insupportable weight had suddenly been lifted, but it was Arragin who answered the challenge.

"Go! Crawl back into your hole, little worm. You shall not have this man, nor any others under my protection. Begone, before I give Nurm leave to step on you!"

"You will pay for this," Dalliktan shrieked in sudden rage. "All of you shall pay! Any man who sees the light of morning will be lucky indeed!"

"Big words, little priest," Neal stepped forward with a feral grin, his mace swinging easily from one hand as the priest shrank back in alarm. "Be still now, and you may even be one of those lucky ones. The Prince has given you leave to depart unharmed. Now, go!"

Dalliktan's bright gaze wavered before Neal's anger, and he stepped back uncertainly. Another step, and another as Neal pressed forward. He squeaked in terror as the mace lifted, its spikes glinting redly in the light of the setting sun, and then he and his fellow priests were running. Neal charged after them for a few steps, but they were gone, flitting shadows scurrying away in the gathering darkness.

"So, he doesn't have your women, either." Arragin tittered at the look of relief on Neal's face. "They must have run off into the forest."

"Run, or been taken," Neal answered. "Dalliktan is not the only danger. But, now I am sure that he was responsible for what happened last night."

"Then you do believe in his Old God?" Arragin lifted an eyebrow scornfully.

"There are many kinds of magic, but my guess is that this time there is a simpler answer. I have been studying the damage that was done last night, and I've begun to see a pattern. Over here, where the pack beasts are tethered, is where the fear was felt first, longest and strongest. Over there on the other side of the camp, the effects were much less. Merely fear and a general uneasiness, not the mad panic that washed over us. It has been the same all day. The breath of fear has been stronger, has lasted longer, here on this side of the camp."

"And why is that?" Arragin stared malevolently along the path where the priests had fled. "Ah, I begin to see. This is the part of my camp that is nearest to Dalliktan's temple. You think, then, that this fear will return in the night?"

"I am sure of it, but I have an idea of what might be the cause. If I am right, there is a defense of sorts. Tell me, what do you know of this temple?"

"Not much, since only priests are allowed to even approach it. I have heard it described as being of roughhewn logs, not at all like their usual temples. A large doorway opens to the front. Inside are two rooms, divided by a curtain of brass."

"I would say that you know quite a bit about it." Neal grinned fleetingly. "This brass curtain, now. Am I right in saying that it stretches from side to side of the temple, not from front to back?"

"I believe so. Why?"

"It could be the source of Dalliktan's 'magic'. In my land, something is known of the effects of extremely lowpitched sounds. As a sheet of metal is made larger and heavier, so does the sound when it is struck become deeper and stronger. When it is too deep, it may not be heard as sound at all, only felt deep within one's body. Not hearing, yet still feeling the sound engenders fear. This fear grows stronger as the sound becomes louder. That is why those nearest to the temple were the most afraid."

"I shall have Dalliktan's hide to patch the hole in my tent! Demons, indeed! But how, then, may this sound be defeated? Do we all have to plug our ears?"

"Ear plugs will be of little help, since the sound is felt deep within the entire body. The only way to stop it is at the source. If the temple were to be captured or burned down, there would be no demon's breath of fear."

"You speak brave words, Trader. Of course if this threat is overcome, then perhaps men could be found to search for your helpers. The forces of the Old God are said to be strongest in the hours of darkness. Dare you to face them?"

"Give me a few men who don't panic easily, and I'll give it my best try. You had better move your tent to the side of the camp away from the temple."

"I'll do that. And by morning, even if you do not succeed, I'll have done even better. There is a place not far from here, a sheltered valley where Dalliktan's sounds cannot reach. It can be easily defended. Captain!" He turned to one of the coterie of officers who stayed always within reach of his voice. "Call for five volunteers for a desperate mission. Experienced soldiers. Steady, but smart. Full weapons, and minimum packs. When that is done, have the rest of the men prepare to march out."

Even as he spoke, a shiver of fear crinkled Neal's backhairs, and the men around him stirred nervously. At the captain's call, a man stepped forward, then another. A long pause, then several more straggled reluctantly forth.

"Forgash, you are in charge, under Nurm's orders," the captain directed. "Donnesh under you, then Brecker, Hallic and Javvorn. Five are enough."

The rest of the soldiers hurriedly struck camp, forming up into ranks to begin their march to their new camp. Under cover of darkness Neal led his squad off at an angle to the line of march. Another shiver of fear reached them, but it was faint and soon faded.

"As I thought, it doesn't reach out far to the side." Neal called a halt as soon as they had reached the trees. "We'll have to approach the temple from the rear, where the fear is the weakest."

"There is a trail through the forest, if we can find it," Forgash told him. "It leads along the edge of the trees, back out of sight."

He led the way, their only light provided by the thickly clustered stars. Their feet made little sound on the hardpacked soil. Neal smiled grimly as he strode along, muscles rippling under his tunic. He wondered if his friends back on Earth would even recognize this shaggy barbarian on his mission of vengeance. He certainly didn't resemble very closely the man who had begun this mission.

"Quiet, now," Forgash whispered. "We approach the hill of the temple."

The hill loomed before them, a dark mass crowned with a dense stand of trees and brush. Once again a tremor of fear reached them, and one of the squad gasped and stepped back.