On a propitious day, Slungandi left Higutigna and made his way back to Kapgar Kûm. He took the Giants’ road and entered by the great gates. The Falakkazri immediately seized him. Without a spoken word, they bundled him down the great incline leading to Onskabâ. But Slungandi knew by their voices sounding in his head that for them this was a jest. They hoped to get some enjoyment from seeing him fearful. When they reached Onskabâ, once the icy home of the Frostgiant Dreygan, they straightway marched him to Handuvandûr; which he had expected. Then they threw open the gate, Mathúr Tahanduvandûr.
Then came forth Angash, captain of the Falakkazri, from his place of command, and said:
Now Slungandi, your sleights summon,
You, Trickster, try to tame this beast,
More dire than worm you, Drumster, daunt;
Make ready to ride yon Hugturágis.
Hugturágis, the ill-begotten monster, was not chained with Káwrungdaga; nevertheless, when Slungandi entered his lair, pushed thither by the staves of the Falakkazri, he neither roused up nor roared. He merely lifted his head and looked curiously at Slungandi. The Drumster drew forth Sporni, and, holding its point before him, walked cautiously towards the monster.
The Falakkazri made neither sound nor sign, but surprise filled their minds, for they had expected the monster to menace Slungandi.
In truth, the affusion of Mánagil ta-Hyúvas at the conflict in Figrû Vomaddi had drained him of much of his ferocity, and the power of Sporni did the rest. Hugturágis, the formerly ravening monster, was now docile, at least in comparison with his former disposition. He might be handled and ridden by one who had the daring of Slungandi.
In one thing the beast had not changed: his abominable stench remained.
Slungandi spent a while walking round Hugturágis, making soft sounds, and singing calming runes. Then the captain of the Falakkazri called him back.
First bring the beast above ground straight
Then do the task the Lord Negobith names.
Slungandi said:
Slungandi strives to serve the master.
Pray tell the task and he’ll take the reins.
The chief of the Falakkazri replied:
Bring Prámiz the great from imprisonment
From high Thorodas bring Thrákân home.
Hugturágis can readily reach
That barren place and back return.
They at once began to move the monster out of his lair. They drew him down the very same passage along which Slungandi had led Firungwáfi. For after the destruction of the plantations of Kabadkabâ, the Falakkazri had spared no time in adapting the former realm of the Kabadri to a new purpose. They had widened the side passage leading to the great cavern, and enlarged its doorway. So now Hugturágis was led that way, enticed with morsels of foul purûfrédhi, and prodded with staves, through the long passages, into the cavern, and up the wide stairway. His clawed feet clattered on the stony floors, but he went willingly, as if keen to be out in the open air again. In the former Hall of the Kabadri the Yokeslaves came forward and (not without signs of trepidation and disgust) fitted him with the full equipment of reins and saddle.
And so Slungandi, master of many practices, took hold of the harness of Hugturágis with his left hand. With his right hand, he brought the wandkey Sporni up to the monster’s eyes, then stabbed at the brow between them. Such a stab was a mere fleabite to the beast, but it gave Slungandi power over the beast’s mind, to urge, slow, or steer him. He led him by the bridle through the great gates and, with some pride, surveyed the landscape over which he was about to be conveyed by his new mount.
Clothed from head to foot in finest dragonhide, with a helm of the same, Slungandi was shielded from the vile and overpowering stench given off by the monster. He mounted the saddle, and, again prodding the animal with Sporni, spoke a rune of flying and direction. The huge leather-like wings began to beat, causing the putrid stench to spread all around him and the yokeservants to take to their heels.
Slungandi and the monster shaped their course for the northwest. Their goal was Mount Thorodas, furthest peak of Thrâyeldim, where Prámiz, son of Negobith, was bound and guarded perpetually by Entellári of the realm of the Hyilavúna. Flying at two or three times the height of the forest trees, Slungandi watched the landscape of the world unroll like a map beneath him. The Dagnath Nebren melted away. They passed over the green hills of Karún Kabdath. Then the woods of Nanôr could be seen below, with the Haldossilu River like a grey thread in its midst. Briefly Slungandi felt something like a gaze, a scrutiny, beating upon him from below as he passed over; it was not friendly. Now they came to vast open spaces where few nyandri or Hyûvandri lived. Hours went by. Finally Slungandi could see before him the snow-capped mountains of the far northeast.
Keeping out of sight of the peak of Thorodas, Slungandi searched for a privy place where he could bestow his dreadful mount so that no one should detect his presence. These mountains were not precipitous. Their usefulness as a prison lay in their utter remoteness and inaccessibility. Slungandi could see how the snow-covered uplands tilted gently towards the peaks. Finally, before the sun went down (and that was early in this far northern place) he landed near a mountain cave and led the monster inside. Placing his hands on the eyes of Hugturágis, he chanted a rune of sleep. The beast subsided obediently on to the cave floor. The Drumster of the Deep made doubly sure of his security by placing a charm of binding on the cave mouth. Then, taking a well-shrouded nightlantern in his hand, he sought a path to the summit of Thorodas.
The Entellári do not know cruelty. So, when they were entrusted with the guardianship of Prámiz the Proud, as punishment for his theft of the star-fire, they devised a way to confine him completely but without suffering, apart from the loss of freedom, company, and occupation. The ropes that formed his confinement were formed of tilvagil, the finest and yet strongest thread, wrought by ropemasters in the heart of the realm of Hyilavúna. They did not bind his body, but were fixed firmly in the ground in a wide circle around the place of confinement, and by the virtue within them, streamed upwards like a shimmering curtain, through which light could partly pass. This veil formed a barrier a hundred feet high. The place itself was a remote mountain top, with cliffs on all sides but one; but on this side there was a gentle slope up which a path led to the summit. Outside the barrier of tilvagil, in winter, there was often snow on the ground and the wind blew unremittingly, but the inside was always temperate and bathed in sunlight when the clouds cleared away.
Within this garth, the imprisoned Prámiz had all his needs of food, clothing, and sleep provided for. Only, if he tried to pass through the curtain of tilvagil, the nearest ropes would at once descend to curl about him and hold him securely until the Entelláka guardians came to release him and thrust him back inside the barrier. He had tried this way of escape but once. The guardians themselves sojourned, two at a time, in a shelter some way down the path. It was built into the hillside, but was nevertheless cold and rudimentary. For this reason, the guard was changed frequently. Because it was a journey of several days from the realm of the Hyilavúna, the new guardians were sometimes behind time in arriving. When that happened, the previous guardians occasionally felt justified in setting off for home at, or soon after, the time appointed for the new guardians’ arrival, leaving Prámiz unguarded (though he himself could not know that).
Slungandi’s coming took place on just such an occasion. There had been severe storms in the Eastern Sea, and ships crossing from the realm of the Hyilavúna to Thrâyeldim were delayed by a week. After waiting several extra days, the two weary Entelláka guardians resolved to set off for home. They had only descended a short way from the mountain top, when a furious snowstorm began. They decided, all the same, to continue their descent; they were well clad, and such storms on Mount Thorodas were often short lived. Moreover, they were almost immediately reassured to see a muffled figure looming up in the whiteness.
‘Ho, Velkasígo, is that you at last? Where is your companion? Herudalgus it was to be, was it not?’
Slungandi (for he it was), disguised his voice, and replied with a murmured greeting intended to sound like the name of the guard who addressed him, which, of course, he did not know.
‘Ho there, yes, it is I, Velkasígo. Herudalgas I left resting, below at the turning from the highway. Look out for him, friends, as he is still unwell from our stormy crossing. I will go up and cast my eye on the prisoner!’
So it was that Slungandi came to the summit of Thorodas when it was unguarded. He reckoned that the guardians would take several hours to reach the highway and discover that Herudalgas was not there, and even then they might not be troubled, but continue on their way until the real guardians met them.
Slungandi walked quickly to the curtain of tilvagil ropes. The wind and snow beat upon it, but made no dint. He waited a while until the storm abated. The snow at last began to fall more gently, and the wind no longer drowned every other sound. Slungandi called out:
All hail Prámiz, Prince of Eastland,
Son of Night-lord. Slungandi brings
At Ombros’ bidding, binding’s finish,
An escape suited to Starfire seeker.
Prámiz, concealing any traces of surprise or relief, merely replied:
Can Deep’s Drumster deal destruction
To this cursèd veil devised by tyrants?
Slungandi said:
Where a door’s wanting and a window’s lacking,
The thief descends on the sky’s highway.
A winged mount will waft you thence,
Hugturágis, my rough servant.
Then, bidding Prámiz to be patient for an hour or two, Slungandi began his slow return through the piled snow to the cave where he had left Hugturágis. Inside the cave, he found Hugturágis asleep. He struck him lightly between the eyes with Sporni, saying:
Awake, wingbeast, the waiting master
Is ready to ride out of reach of foes.
He dragged the monster from the cave, got on the saddle, and they rose into the air. They were soon approaching the summit of Thorodas and there in front of them was the curtain of tilvagil, streaming upwards for a hundred feet or more. Nevertheless, it was easy for Slungandi to guide the monster high over the top of the barrier. Looking down, he could see a grassy green enclosure, with a small wooden house and other things dotted about on it; and as they carefully circled down through air that was warm in comparison to the outside, he espied the figure of Prámiz, impatiently striding up and down.
Hugturágis alighted on the grassy lawn not far from the house. Slungandi courteously dismounted and stood by while Prámiz approached, bearing at his side a wallet containing his few possessions. He halted for a moment as the overpowering stench of the beast reached him. Then suddenly he dashed forward. He raised his arm and smote Slungandi to the ground with a stroke that the fist of a Ganga might have given, taking him completely by surprise. As Slungandi, dazed, sprawled upon the ground, Prámiz leapt into the monster’s saddle, struck the beast between the ears, and cried out:
Negobith’s nursling, night-rider be!
Set course for Kapgar, with keen wingstrokes.
Let doting Drumster be doomed to bonds
And wear life out awaiting freedom.
Hugturágis beat his vast wings, rose into the air, and began circling ever upwards until he was above the barrier. Then he vanished into the west.
No comments:
Post a Comment