Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction
“Who told thee their names?” asked Lord Brandoch Daha.
“My dream,” Juss answered. “And first I dreamed it in mine own bed in
Galing when I came home from guesting with thee last June. And they be
true dreams that are dreamed there.” And he said, “Seest thou where the
foot-hills part to a dark valley that runneth deep into the chain, and
the mountains are bare to view from crown to foot? Mark where, beyond
the nearer range, bleak-visaged precipices, cobweb-streaked with huge
snow corridors, rise to a rampart where the rock towers stand against
the sky. This is the great ridge of Koshtra Pivrarcha, and the loftiest
of those spires his secret mountain-top.”
As he spoke, his eye followed the line of the eastern ridge, where the
towers, like dark gods going down from heaven, plunge to a parapet
which runs level above a curtain of avalanche-fluted snow. He fell
silent as his gaze rested on the sister peak that east of the gap
flamed skyward in wild cliffs to an airy snowy summit, soft-lined as a
maiden’s cheek, purer than dew, lovelier than a dream.
While they looked the sunset fires died out upon the mountains, leaving
only pale hues of death and silence. “If thy dream,” said Lord Brandoch
Daha, “conducted thee down this Edge, over the Bhavinan, through
yonder woods and hills, up through the leagues of ice and frozen rock
that stand betwixt us and the main ridge, up by the right road to the
topmost snows of Koshtra Belorn: that were a dream indeed.”
“All this it showed me,” said Juss, “up to the lowest rocks of the
great north buttress of Koshtra Pivrarcha, that must first be scaled
by him that would go up to Koshtra Belorn. But beyond those rocks not
even a dream hath ever climbed. Ere the light fades, I’ll show thee our
pass over the nearer range.” He pointed where a glacier crawled betwixt
shadowy walls down from a torn snow-field that rose steeply to a
saddle. East of it stood two white peaks, and west of it a sheer-faced
and long-backed mountain like a citadel, squat and dark beneath the
wild sky-line of Koshtra Pivrarcha that hung in air beyond it.
“The Zia valley,” said Juss, “that runneth into Bhavinan. There lieth
our way: under that dark bastion called by the Gods Tetrachnampf.”
• • • • •
On the morrow Lord Brandoch Daha came to Mivarsh Faz and said, “It is
needful that this day we go down from Omprenne Edge. I would for no
sake leave thee on the Moruna, but ’tis no walking matter to descend
this wall. Art thou a cragsman?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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