Garan the Eternal by Andre Norton Page B

— ? But enough! You have done well for yourself, Garan.”
    “Only because — “’ I began eagerly, but her soft fingers flew to seal my rebellious lips, barring a rush of rash words.
    “Not that, Garan, not that! It is of other things we must speak. You seem to have delved in dangerous pools of knowledge, asked awkward questions of the wrong people. And what have you learned?”
    I shrugged. “Little enough. Each path ends at last in a blank barrier.”
    She nodded. “Oh, they are clever, clever. But you have made something of a beginning. For that — well, watch behind you of nights, Garan. You walk a rotten bridge; be sure that it does not break to plunge you into a gulf. Butfrom this hour forth you shall not fight alone, soldier. Do you know one Thran of Gorl?”
    “I looked upon him for the first time an hour ago.”
    “Thran, like you, has been laying his ear to the ground and so has heard things not meant for him. Twice has his path of secret watching crossed yours and thus he learned that there was another who mistrusted the future. For all of us, Garan, are not idlers and children playing in the sun. Some of us prepare for the coming storm —”
    “Then you have some definite idea of what comes?” I broke in eagerly.
    “Not yet. There was a new pleasure palace opened in the Sotan district a week ago.”
    I frowned, bewildered by her swift change of subject “So my aide told me.”
    “It might be well for you to visit it, Garan.”
    “But — “ I began a hasty protest.
    “Oh, it is well enough known that you enter not into such joys, but allow yourself to be persuaded — tonight. Nay, more I cannot say. Be — careful, Garan. Now go and quickly, before my maids come seeking me. Three years, Garan — “ Her soft voice trailed away as she sent me from her. I dared not look back.
    In a daze created by my own unleashed emotions, I sought the landing stage and my flier. The black ship from Koom still rested there, aloof and striking among the brightly-colored craft which now thronged the surface of the platform, but I spared it no more than a single passing glance. My thoughts were all for that interview and what might lie hidden within those two words of hers — “three years.”
    I did not come wholly to myself again until my flier landed upon the stage of the defense tower and I saw Anatan’s boyish figure crossing hurriedly toward me. Then I remembered the promise I had so lightly made him that morning. The impossibility had become true.
    “Zacat of Ru has come in, my Lord. He is awaiting you in the wardroom,” burst out the young officer almost before my feet had touched the floor of the landing stage.
    “Bring him to my private rooms at once!” I ordered.
    Ru was the northernmost colony of Yu-Lac’s glittering chain of dependencies. For three months of the year its wind-harried plains were well-nigh uninhabitable. But wealth lay in its stark mountains for the taking so we held it in ajealous grip. A line of fortified posts, tiny oases of civilization, were the bounds we had laid upon that grim land.
    Zacat was an officer of the old school who controlled both men and country with a heavy, but always just, hand. I trusted him above any other of my under officers. An event serious enough to bring him to Yu-Lac was grave enough to shadow the future. It was with a feeling of sudden cold that I paced my inner chamber awaiting his arrival.
    “Hail, Lord.” The burly figure in the doorway drew himself up in formal salute.
    “Enter, Zacat. I am glad to clasp your hand again. But what fortune brings you out of your snow-rimmed north unheralded?” ‘
    “An ill fortune, Garan.” He measured me with his eyes as he replied and then, with an air of relief, he added, “It is well. You are no city-dwelling lordling yet. There is no fat, no quivering hand, no murky eye, to betray you. Are you still the lad who followed me into Ulal in the old days?”
    “I have not changed, war dog. Nor, I see,