Night's Sorceries Read online

  Then, in the pleasantly melancholy act of constructing a song to this nameless She, Dhur slept.

  Asleep, he dreamed. There he lay under the tree, beside the embers of the fire, when through the arches of the wood came riding three princes on black steeds. They could be nothing less than princes, for they were dressed as such, and their horses were of the best.

  And though he slept, Dhur saw upward through his closed lids. He saw the princes pause and glance at him.

  “This forest,” said one, “is littered with mortals.”

  “They are everywhere,” said another. “They fill up the world. But we taught them love, and there was our mistake.”

  Then all three laughed, and the third, drawing nearer, looked down into Dhur’s sleeping face. “You are fortunate,” said this third prince to Dhur, “that you are not ugly, but so comely. For if I had found you irksome, I should have blasted you where you lay.” And then this third prince, who was himself of a remarkable handsomeness, leaned over Dhur from his saddle, with a sinuous ease uncommon among men, and kissed him lightly on the forehead. The kiss burned. Like cold, or heat, or acid—had he been able to, Dhur would have sprung to his feet, but weights lay on him; he could neither stir nor wake. A powerful drug seemed at work, so that next even the eyes of his dream fell shut.

  He heard the three ride away, but the steps of their horses were like tinsel brushing the grass, and only the bells whispered on the caparisons. Then Dhur’s own horse gave a neigh, and breaking its tether, bolted after them and was gone. And Dhur, lying drugged by the dream kiss, could not shift himself even to curse.

  “But that was only the dream,” said Dhur now, in the sunlit morning, and turned to see where his horse was. But it was not. Then Dhur did curse, and so loudly the conies raised their ears and stared at him from the violets.

  “How can my dream have enticed away my horse?” demanded Dhur. None answered, though all the forest might have been said to know. So then Dhur supposed the horse had simply run off out of a humor, and he had incorporated the sounds of this in his dream.

  “That damnable boy, if ever found,” Dhur promised the conies, “shall be whipped home to Kolchash. He has cost me a night’s entertainment and a fine mount.”

  But there was not much anger in Dhur, he was not a creature for rages, as he was not a creature for deep thought.

  Presently he rose from his couch and walked away through the woods, as he believed, in the direction of the inn.

  • • •

  About this hour Yezade was crawling from the hollow tree with mushrooms in her hair, a sorry sight after her adventures.

  She had no idea where she should go, but to desert the enchanted forest at least seemed sensible. Having no notion of its scope or paths, however, she could only set out trusting to luck—who so far had been no friend to her. She was also by now tortured by a thirst far worse than hunger, and hearing once more the noise of water, hastened toward it.

  Soon she reached the edge of a clearing, and there across it went a slight running stream with one stone in it, and on the further bank was a sort of bothy built of moss and twigs. Something about the spot was unlikable to Yezade, but thirst overruled scruple, the bothy looked too dilapidated to be occupied, and so she hurried to the stream and lay down on the ground to drink from it.

  She had drunk less than her fill when suddenly there was movement on either hand. Next instant rough fists had seized hold of her. Yezade screamed.

  “It seems human enough,” said he that held her right arm.

  “I do not trust this wood, even by day,” announced he that gripped her left arm.

  Both shook her, and Yezade moaned.

  “Courteous gentlemen, I am only—”

  “Silence, hussy! Our lord shall judge what you are.”

  “Who is your lord?” inquired Yezade in some anxiety.

  “Behold him,” said her right-hand captor.

  Yezade looked across the stream. There in the entrance to the bothy stood a tall figure in a black robe sewn with golden suns and stars, upon its head a gold diadem, upon its face a black lacquer mask.

  “The Lord Kolchash,” declared Yezade’s left-hand captor.

  Yezade swooned.

  • • •

  Noon hunted the forest, shooting bright arrows. Dhur stood among them, looking this way and that way. It had come to him that he had lost his path. This area of the woods was unfamiliar, yet so like all the rest it had deceived him.

  The sun then must guide him. Yet the forest at noon, a goblet of dark green quartz, seemed shattered by that sun. All directions were out of their places, all routes were one.

  Just then, Dhur heard again the braying of an ass.

  “Oh, you boy, you child of iniquity,” said Dhur, with a glad scowl, and turned his strides toward the crazy noise.

  In a while he caught the flash of a pale hide through the trees. It was the riding-ass for sure, being ridden along before him. Dhur strode after, deeper into the lake-depths of the wood.

  • • •

  Yezade wakened. She recollected everything and also knew herself lost. Her mother had been wrong in two ways. In the prophecy of Yezade’s marriage, and in saying that demons did not manifest on earth by day.

  For there it sat, the black and golden doll which the demons, by their craft, had made. And yet, the bird of fire and ice, which form the Vazdru had taken, that was absent.

  Indeed, everything, for the most part, was absent. There was no luxury in the hut. And Kolchash, doll, demon or whatever, sat on a log of wood. And there his two henchmen stood behind him, and they wore the draggled remnants of finery much as did Yezade herself wear the rags of her bridal dress.

  “See now,” said Kolchash, if Kolchash it was, “this is only some poor girl, probably set on as we have been. Ah, maiden, fear nothing, out only tell me your tale of woe.”

  But Yezade could not bring herself to utter.

  “She has lost the power of speech from her terror,” pronounced Kolchash. “Or maybe it is my mask which so alarms her. Dear child, shall I remove it?”

  “No!” shrieked Yezade.

  “Yes, it is the rumors which distress her,” mourned Kolchash. And putting up his gold gloves with the black claws, began to remove his head.

  Hastily, Yezade once more swooned.

  • • •

  The porter’s riding-ass, drawn by the glamour of something with which it had once had an association, and which now glowed in the forest’s heart like a fallen moon, ambled on and on toward it, pausing only now and then to shave a fern or lick the delicious waters of the wood. Never in its days or nights had the ass enjoyed such liberty. A fat man had ridden it (the porter), next a light but unwieldy boy-girl. Put off to stray, the ass willingly did so. Once, it had smelled the tang of wild cat and kicked up its heels and fled, but this trauma was now forgotten. The forest passed for a safe haven of plenty. A couple of times besides it had heard a divine music shock through the avenues, the hymn of one of its own clan: Eeh-orrh!

  Even when it began to seem to the ass that some thing came after it, muttering and growling, it had a human scent and sound, and its two-legged crashings boded only captivity and service. The ass did not entirely object to these, nor was it entirely prepared to submit. Thus on it skipped, trotting through brambles where it could so that he that followed must also get through them, and down rocky slides so he that followed must slither and slip, and through streams choked by untame lilies from whose choice chalices rose wasps in droves.

  In this way, the afternoon was disposed, the sun turned west and the trees began to spread out their filmy shadows. Just then the ass, discovering its goal, that which had attracted it, clattered out upon the shore of a wide pool. Here the sky was to be seen, in a gilded curving lid above, and with the tops of the forest clustered all about its edge just as the rushes
clustered at the water’s brim. And the sky reflected in the pool, and both remained so clarified and still, that in that place and those moments, you could not tell if the sky were not the pool above, and the trees that framed it only copies of the actual trees which stood upon a sky resting in the earth below.

  The great tranquility and loveliness of this image stayed even foot-sore, wasp-stung Dhur. He halted to let his eyes drink in the sight. And then he saw the riding-ass meekly sipping at the pool’s brink or the sky’s brink, and no one on its back.

  What Dhur was prone next to do is conjecture. For just as he was about to do it, there came a glimmer out of the trees, as if the evening star were walking there.

  Dhur caught his breath. And then he stepped back among the bushes and fixed his gaze earnestly on the shore.

  For there, in the warm light, a beautiful maiden took her way, dazzling like whitest ivory, for she was clad only in flowers and vines, and in her tumbling hair as red as amber.

  “Now she is like—that very one I recalled,” murmured Dhur to himself. “But that other was not so fair as this, for she was mortal. And this is some sylph of the wood—in which I do not believe.”

  The sylph went into the shallows of the pool, and here she bathed and laved herself with water and light, and though she made no sound, her gestures were like dance. And seeing the riding-ass she went to it and kissed its face, which the animal suffered with apparent good-will. “As well it might,” said Dhur, leaning on a tree. “Unworthy thing. If the gods had any compassion, they would grant me the ability to change places with the brute. Then I should feel those hands about my neck and those lips on my face.”

  But Dhur knew better than to call to the apparition, or approach her. For since the legends of her kind were true, she would be faithful to them, and seeing him, run away or vanish.

  So he contained himself with some difficulty, and swore in his heart that this was his fate, to be ensnared by an ethereal being (since the existence of such beings charmed him very much.)

  At last, when she had done bathing, having sent her watcher the while half mad, the exquisite maiden left the pool and returned amid the trees. The ass instantly went trotting after her. And Dhur, no less beglamoured, fell in after both of them.

  And the three, one by one, climbed up again into the darkening forest.

  • • •

  But Yezade had lain some hours in the bothy, as if dead, and not batted an eyelash, though she was quite aware. She recited the while a mantra to hold her body rigid, and either its potence, or her belief in it, made her into a plank. But despite this, she at length heard Kolchash say, “If only I were half the mage I have put it about I am, I might restore her. Indeed, we should all have kept out of this pickle.”

  And to that the two henchmen gave hearty assent. After which, saying they would go see if any new provender was to be found, they left the hut.

  Presently, Yezade reversed the mantra, opened her eyes a crack, and beheld Kolchash seated still upon his log. Beside him there neatly reposed his head of lacquer face, headcloth and diadem. The loathsomeness of this sight was mitigated, however. For though one head was off, another remained in position on the shoulders of Kolchash. This was the gray-haired skull and countenance of an elderly man of miserable expression.

  Yezade sat up, and while the lacquer Kolchash stayed impervious, the elderly and miserable Kolchash peered at her.

  “Praise to the gods, the maiden has revived.”

  “Small thanks to you,” snapped Yezade.

  “Doubtless,” said he, “you are in the right, and I have been properly punished for my pride and folly. Would you wish to hear my story?”

  “I would rather be given food and drink,” said Yezade, “as I have been two days without them, through your fault.”

  Kolchash drooped. He said, “My men have gathered these forest fruits, and there is a casket of sweetmeats intended for a wedding. I do not see how I am responsible for two days of your fast, and have nothing else to offer, but you are welcome to those.”

  Yezade accordingly feasted as best she might, and Kolchash, whether she would or no, launched into his tale.

  “Being uncommonly rich, and having in my possession many priceless curios and artifacts, from the beginning of my career,” said Kolchash, “I had it put about that I was an evil and fearsome man, and could wield several malign magics. In this way I protected myself from thieves and sycophants alike, and was free to dwell as I would, alone and in peace.”

  To assist his bad reputation, Kolchash would occasionally ride abroad dressed as Yezade had first seen him, in gold and claws, his entire face and head concealed by an assemblage of cloth, mask and diadem. Stories were told of human skin books, that he had sorcerous eyes to the rear of his cranium, and could detach his soul which he then set on his enemies in the form of a black cloud. Kolchash meanwhile lived a blameless life, performing charitable acts in secret. Only certain of his retainers and guard knew the truth, and being loyal to their master, did not betray it.

  One dusk, however, the placid life of Kolchash was upset. He received an unnatural visitor in the form of a ghost, which appeared to him in his study.

  “Kolchash,” began this ghost, which was that of a female, elegantly dressed in the manner of a waiting-lady of some well-to-do household.

  “Madam,” interrupted Kolchash in a fuss, “I am no mage, and it is therefore useless for you to evolve before me.”

  “Of your correct status I am aware,” retorted the ghost, “but you must hear me out nevertheless. I have been troubled many years and unable to proceed along my discorporate course because of it. I had, when living, a daughter, and to this girl I made a prophecy, the substance of which I shall not burden you with. Suffice it to say it concerned her future prospects, and that I was in error and misled her, for in the normal way no opportunity would have complemented my riddle. Therefore I intend to create such an opportunity, and so redeem myself as a prophetess in her eyes, and see her besides into a secure situation. In this you will aid me.” And then the imperious ghost told Kolchash the name and whereabouts of a particular man, and advised Kolchash that he must send at once to him. “You will say you have seen his daughter in a magic glass, that you will wed her, and in token you will give him such gifts that his avarice will make it impossible for him to refuse you—for he is a selfish wretch, as I learned to my cost when alive.”

  “Madam—” again interpolated Kolchash.

  “More,” decreed the ghost. “You will couch your proposal in such a sinister way that all will be alarmed at it, and you will, too, see that all the rumors of your vileness are stirred up, so the prospective bride shall be at her wits’ end in fright. My own child,” added the ghost, “is quick, and sure to seize her chance, trusting to my former words. You,” finished the ghost, “I have chosen for your ill-reputation and your true virtue and wealth, which together will resolve my need.”

  “And if I deny you?” understandably said Kolchash, somewhat put out. “I am not a man for marriages. I prefer my books.”

  “If you deny me,” said the ghost, with a sulky resolute air, “I shall howl and wail about your dwelling every night, filling the hearts of all who hear me with fear and distress. Being no magician, you cannot yourself dispel me; while if you have recourse to one who can, your reputation will be gone forever. Either way, you will be much the loser.”

  The ghost (none other, of course, than the dead mother of Yezade) then demonstrated her abilities in the line of howling and wailing. And shortly Kolchash agreed to her terms, and sent at once to Marsineh’s father, requiring her hand in a most eerie fashion.

  Yezade, the listener, was by now struck dumb with fascination. But she did not need to prompt. Kolchash continued, as generally they do that have a sorry misfortune to relate.

  “All then was arranged, and having no choice I was philosophically resigned to t
he matter, though very grieved to be causing the maiden such dismay. Taking with me a large company and many further gifts, as the ghost had insisted, I set out for the wedding appointment. Everything went well until our travel took us through the outskirts of this forest.”

  Night having come down, the company prepared its camp among the trees. Kolchash’s splendid pavilion was erected, but no sooner had he retired inside it, then he found another there before him.

  This other appeared to be, at first glance, only a young man, dark of hair and darkly clad, very pale and disturbingly handsome, who lounged upon the divan cushions and stared Kolchash up and down.

  Now Kolchash had once or twice had such an encounter with insolent young men, and resorting to his false personality, soon overwhelmed each challenger. Therefore Kolchash drew himself up and declared: “Do you know me, foolish youth?”

  At which the foolish youth gave a laugh so melodious that every item in the tent, from the silk tassels to the alabaster bowls, seemed to melt. And he replied, “Of all the fools there are, there are no better fools than mortals.”

  And at this, Kolchash (who in fact was not a fool) misgave. So he said, “I perceive I am in the presence of a superior.”

  “So you are,” said the other. “You are a scholar if no mage. And so perhaps have heard of the Vazdru.”

  At that, a gauze seemed to dissolve from the eyes of Kolchash. He saw a being before him that was partly of flesh and partly of fire, and partly and mostly of the dark. So he took off at once the fakery of the magician’s head-piece and bowed low, shaking and shivering.