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Gateway 5 — Kesrin — The Sapphire Well
It was still early morning when he reached the Sapphire Well. Dry, as usual, in the summer heat. Deserted, too, also as usual, which was why he’d chosen it. The ring stood there, mysterious, unknown, made of some substance beyond the knowledge of man or mage. Untouched by time, unchanged in his lifetime, and Sanzar was in his seventh decade. The stuff of myth and legend in Prince Alnar’s realm, impervious to anything man-made.
He eased himself from the saddle, wincing, for he did little riding now, and hitched the gelding to the ring beside the empty bowl. He unslung the water-skin from behind the saddle and poured some into the bowl for the horse to drink, patting its neck as it bent to the water.
Sanzar reached into the saddle-bag and took out the artefact, then made his way towards the ring. He looked down at the object in his hand, then at the ring, at the small offset panel at about a man’s chest height. The object was the same size and shape as the depression in the panel. He fought the rising excitement and the conviction that, at last, he’d found the key. He forced himself to step away and consider. The ring was as it always had been. A ring. Big enough for three men to ride through abreast, slender enough for a man – a boy, even – to step through without touching it. Many had, usually in the wet season when the Sapphire Well held water instead of sand. Now, in the dry heat of summer, no-one came. Which was, of course, why he’d chosen to come now. If he made a fool of himself, he preferred to do it without witnesses.
He moved away from the ring and sat down, thinking. The old tales that men told of the ring were of magic and mystery, of a gateway to the stars. To a mage as skilled and experienced as Sanzar, tales of magic were scorned, for his tests had revealed no magic, active or inert, in the ring or its surroundings. Nor was there any evidence in the artefact he’d found after slow and careful searching through the archives, once Prince Alnar had been persuaded to give him access. That too showed no trace of magic.
His latest invention was in his saddlebag, and he withdrew it. Simple, a box, with a glass lens on one side. The other side detachable, with the facility to attach a photo-sensitive plate, for Sanzar had discovered how to record images. Slightly fuzzy images, true, but recognisable as what they were. He reached into the saddle bag again, and took out a recording plate, setting it ready for use. From behind the saddle he took a metal trivet, usually used to suspend a cooking pot over a fire, which he’d modified to support his image recorder. He set it before the ring, about ten paces away, knowing that would be far enough for his device to record an image of the whole ring, and mounted the recorder in place, testing that it was mounted firmly.
Now for the ring, now to see if his suspicions were correct, to see if the — artefact — would have any effect. He pushed it into the matching recess, holding his breath.
Nothing.
He stared at it for a moment, disappointed more than he’d expected, but then cursed himself for a fool. If it was a key, then he should try to operate it like a key. He should turn it. He reached out a hand that, despite his will, trembled a little and turned the artefact to the right, holding his breath. A hum, felt more than heard, came from the ring and he began to smile, then gasped aloud, staggering back, dumbfounded, staring at the ring before him.
Where before there had only been a view of the desert floor beyond the ring, now there was a new image. Gone was the sun-scorched desert of mid-morning; gone was the continuity of the surroundings; gone indeed was his normally calm demeanour, for he felt an excitement swelling in him. Could the stories be true? Was this a link to far places? Surely it must be, because no longer did the ring show the desert. No more, for what Sanzar could see now in the mid-morning desert sunshine was no desert. It was instead the velvet black of a moonless night, and the image before him showed countless stars.
* * * * *
Only a short piece, this time, but it sets the scene ready for the actions of the Andromeda team.
ero
