The Last Icebreaker, Part III
Siftly, surefoot Striding steady, Singing softly, From the Sunrise to the Sunset Harlios swayed to the rythm of his steed. The grey stalliongalloped on steadily, propelled by Char'un magic. Two days had passed, and in some remote corner of his mind, the complaints of his body were beginning to register. Even his training for endurance during long ceremonies was being strained. Thirst and hunger were old distractions, mastered long ago. They were building, and would be suffered when he came out of his current ritual. But this was no seated trance, it was a long, slow chafing of legs and backside.
Fifty-two straight hours, without stops for any reason. His mount charged on and on. Tireless. Sweatless. Knowing neither hunger or thirst. Trust the Char'un to know a way to speed a mounted messenger.....
The chanson spooled endlessly through his mind. He sang every third or forth stanza, joining Drel in maintaining the ritual. Between the verses, he looked out at his surroundings, though his steed needed little guidance. The grey knew a track when he saw one, even one with scarcely any ruts. Not much traffic north to the Palace of Kalikos; but enough to keep the trail from fading out.
Drel sang on. "He too, is tireless," thought Harlios. "Faithfull ally, how much I have leaned on you over the years." The spirit's voice droned on in his mind, but somehow warmer, briefly. Drel had heard his praise.
Harlios scanned his surroundings again. The sureal colors of the spirit realm surrounded him with their splendor. In the distance, slowly growing, a black aura on the horizon. Harlios pushed at his eyes, and for a few moments his vision was almost of the normal world. Still no sight of Rashtingall, the Black Rock.
Gallop gracefull, Grasslands green, Gambol gaily, From the Gorse-land to the Ghost-realm Even before the Sky Burn, the Black Rock had stood alone. Or sothe Char'un said. The Place of Challenge. There where the first Kalikos had challenged Valind in the old days. Harlios eyed it carefully as he approached. It was not of Darkness, but rather, _glowed_ dark in some fell way. "Probably basalt," thought Harlios, then dismissed the idle thought from his mind.
It was necessary to perform the second of the Kalikos Rituals here. A call, a challenge against the strength of Winter. But Harlios could not stop and front Rashtingall. To do so would break the Char'un spell that kept his steed moving. His friends in Graclodont would feel the link fail, and they would go to their well earned rest. Their efforts, working in shifts, supplied the grey's seemingly endless stamina. And Harlios had another hard days ride, even at full gallop, to reach the empire's northenmost buttress.
Now came the hard part. Harlios would gallop around the Black Rock in circles. Not too close, or he would become engaged in a duel with one of the sacred stone's many guardian spirits. Not too far, or the ritual challenge would gain no strength; might not be binding upon hollri. And that was the lesser of his worries.
In order to maintain the Char'un spell, Drel would continue singing the endless chanson. In order to fulfill the Single Challenge, Harlios would cry out that ritual. Two linked minds, working two different ceremonies at once. Diificult, and dangerous to fail. "One of the few usefull things I learned in Glamour," thought Harlios. "One of the reasons I am called a Traveller!"
Flying fetlocks, Fleetfoot, fireheart, Fairest favor From Yu-Kargzant! fabled Sun! As they closed upon the Place of Challenge, small red beaconsbecame visible through the swirling spirits. "Drel, the ritual markers are still up! The ones Inandana DaughtersBlood must have used! We will gallop around the Rock with their guidance. Fortune smiles upon us."
Harlios turned his mount, and began circling Rashtingall. As he swung around the north face he almost veered away, who was hiding there?!
Wolf Spirits! Strong ones, attended by a pack of lesser such. Many blurred shadows indicated the presence of living creatures too. A real pack of wolves, and... _a shaman_?!
The stallion shrieked and lunged forward, scraping up against one of the markers. The beacon flared and went out, as the grey shrieked again, singed by disturbed spells. Between the hammer and the anvil, the wolves and Rashtingall.
"NO!" cried Harlios, as the grey bore him away. "I have no time for this!" But a hasty glance over his shoulder showed no signs of pursuit. He circled around and swung back. His mount fought him; and then the pack began to move.
End of Glorantha Digest V4 #308
Powered by hypermail