food.
As he approached the walls he saw several small but comfortable-looking stone houses built outside the gate, most likely the homes of farmers and those who dealt closely with farmers-smiths and the like-which also stood abandoned, with open doors and broken windows. Garth was not surprised; it was in keeping with the deserted farms. Undaunted, the overman rode directly up to the western gate, a huge brass-trimmed wooden portal standing at least fifteen feet in height. The walls themselves were of white marble, clear and unveined and spotlessly clean, that gleamed in the sun. Garth marveled that mere men had built such a thing, and wondered that they had used marble instead of the harder and more common granite. Perhaps the builders had been more concerned with beauty than efficiency, a thought that bothered Garth with its implications of affluence; it was not in keeping with the world as he knew it.
After a brief pause to see if the gatekeeper would admit or challenge him without being hailed, Garth bellowed, 'Open!'
His shout echoed faintly from the polished stone walls to either side of the gate, but elicited no other response. After a decent interval, the overman called again, with as little result, and finally for a third time.
When this last shout was met with a renewed silence-even the chirping of birds and insects stilled in response to the noise-Garth slid from his mount's back, slipped his breastplate and helmet on and pulled his battle-axe from its boot. Standing braced, his feet well apart, he swung the axe against the weathered wood of the portal.
The blade buried itself in the oak, spraying splinters to either side, but the door did not move. Garth pulled it free and prepared for a second swing, but froze as the sound of laughter trailed down over him from somewhere above.
Stepping back, he looked up to see a figure atop the battlement, a large man who seemed somehow to be in shadow despite the bright sunlight that shown full upon him. With a start, Garth realized that the shadow was in fact the man's skin color, that the man laughing had skin darker than his own, so dark as to be almost black. The overman had not known humans came in such a wide range of hues. He studied this apparition carefully. This curious figure appeared to be well over six feet tall, and Garth guessed his weight at perhaps as much as three hundred pounds; he had an immense barrel chest, a belly to match, and arms and legs as thick as trees. He wore a flowing black robe worked with elaborate gold embroidery; no other ornamentation, no jewelry was to be seen. His face was innocent of any beard, and his hair; as black as the overman's own dead-straight shoulderlength mane, was clipped close to his skull. Garth could see no sword or other weapon in evidence; since no guardsman would be unarmed, this strange man was clearly no ordinary gatekeeper.
The apparition atop the wall was the first to speak.
'Greetings, overman.' The voice was deep and resonant, tinged with amusement.
'Greetings, man. I have come in peace. May I enter the city as a friend?'
'So you come in peace? Is it peaceful to bury your weapon in my front door, to hack at my city's defenses?'
'Your pardon, man, but I received no answer to my hail.'
'Could you not then accept it that you were not welcome, and go your way?'
'I have business in Mormoreth.'
'You have no business in Mormoreth, nor does anyone save myself.'
'I regret contradicting you, but I do have business within, the performance of a task set me.'
'Ah, a quest! For what?' The voice was plainly mocking now.
'I seek to capture the first living thing I meet in the catacomb beneath the city.'
Further laughter greeted this explanation. 'Pray, who set you this impossible task, and for what? Do you seek the hand of some princess? But no, that would not be in keeping with an overman's nature. Wealth, then? Is it for gold you perform this errand?'
'My reasons are my own.'
'Oh, come! Who sent you here?'
'I serve one called the Forgotten King, who dwells in Skelleth.'
There was absolute silence for a long moment; then, slowly, the man asked, with every trace of humor gone from his voice, 'You serve the Forgotten King?'
'So he calls himself.'
'Describe him.'
Although he wondered why this man, who was apparently Shang himself from his references to 'my city,' would ask such a thing, Garth responded as best he could. 'He is an old man who wears yellow rags. I could not see his hair or eyes when I spoke to him, so I do not know their colors, but he has a long white beard. He is tall and thin, for a human, with-'
'Enough!' The interruption was harsh, as if the speaker were suppressing anger. 'Overman, you are unwise. Abandon this quest and have nothing more to do with this...this so-called king.'
'I have made a bargain.'
'Listen, overman, you do not know what you do. Although I have no love for you or your kind, I warn you, I give you my word, that only destruction can come of serving this man.'
'I gave my word that I would serve him.' Although Garth's voice betrayed no emotion, Shang's words worried him; he wondered just what goals the Forgotten King was pursuing.
'Then argument of your master's treachery will not sway you? Let me warn you then, that your task is impossible. There is but one living thing in the crypts; the king-lizard, known as a basilisk.'
Garth had never heard the word. He asked, 'What manner of beast is a basilisk, that its capture is impossible?'
'Ah, I forgot; overmen know little of human legends. The basilisk is no natural beast, but the Lord of Reptiles, and the most venomous creature known to science or sorcery. Its breath slays instantly; to touch it is to die; to meet its gaze will turn a man-or overman-to stone. Should one somehow approach within reach and strike it with sword or spear, its poison runs up blade or shaft to kill the wielder before he can pierce its armored hide. It exists only as a result of the blackest magic and serves the Death-God himself. No, overman, you cannot capture this beast and carry it hence, and it can only be fatal to try.'
'Nevertheless, I am sworn to do so.'
'Fool! Why? What incentive is there, that you give up your life to serve a man, one not even of your own species?'
'I have made a bargain.'
'But...overman, what is it you are to receive in turn? I am myself a powerful wizard; perhaps we could strike a better bargain.'
'It was a trusted oracle that sent me to the one I serve; and though your words sound sincere, I cannot put more trust in you than in the oracle.' Garth honestly regretted the truth of his statement; Shang's obvious concern contributed to his own growing discomfiture.
'Very well. Fool that you are, I will let you seek your destruction. But be warned, overman, that should you somehow contrive to succeed, I shall slay you myself. Neither I nor indeed any other can afford to risk allowing the so-called Forgotten King to obtain the basilisk's venom; he could use such a poison to work magicks like none known for centuries; he could cause limitless destruction. Much of my own magic derives from scrapings of floors the basilisk has walked upon. To give the monster itself to the King in Yellow is utter insanity.'
'It is not my concern what he does with it; I am merely to bring it to him.'
'Then die, like the fool you are, in the attempt. I will neither aid nor hinder you. Although ordinarily I would slay you merely for having trespassed upon my valley, I do not care to become involved in your doom. If the Forgotten King has indeed sent you here to die, I will not help him by killing you.'
'As you will; then open the gates, that I may make my attempt.'
'Oh, no; I have just said that I will not aid in your destruction.'
Garth snarled in annoyance at this petty delay. He raised his axe and hacked again at the gate as Shang vanished from atop the wall. Splinters flew and he struck repeatedly, until at last he had chopped a hole big enough for him to squeeze through. He did so, and once inside he unbarred and opened the ruined gate to admit Koros; the beast had stood impassively throughout the assault on the portal, and now strode into the city with its usual smooth, graceful gait.
