A Solitary Journey (34 page)

‘As far as humans go,’ he retorted with an unmistakable undertone of distaste. ‘What do you mean by that?’

He ignored her question, but when she repeated it he met her gaze and said, ‘Humans always have another motive for friendship.’ When she pressed him to explain why he held that view he smiled grimly and asked, ‘How much further is it to this port?’

She shrugged, disappointed that he wouldn’t elaborate. ‘A day. Perhaps two.’

‘And you’ve never been to this place?’

‘No.’

He thrust out his right hand. ‘Give me your hand.’

‘Why?’ she asked warily.

‘I want to show you something. Give me your hand.’

As she held out her hand and let him enfold it in his own, she was conscious of how delicate and long his fingers were and the softness of his palm. He smiled, her spine tingled, and a sphere of light suddenly appeared in the air above his left hand. She tried to wrench her hand free of his, but he held her in a vice-like grip and his smile widened. He flicked his fingers, the light sphere vanished and a spout of red flame leapt into the evening. ‘Stop it!’ she cried, wriggling her hand.

He released her, laughing with delight, and told her hurriedly, ‘I had to show you.’

She glared at him with angry green eyes. ‘You showed me before. You had no right to do that.’

‘But I had to show you how strong it is.’

‘You should have told me first.’

Cutter and Talemaker joined the pair at the edge of the tiny campsite. ‘Are you all right?’ Cutter asked of Meg.

She rose from the ground and said, ‘Yes. I’m fine.’ Cutter met A Ahmud Ki’s gaze. ‘I thought there was a problem.’

Meg grabbed his arm. ‘No. Really. He—I—was just startled.’

‘What by?’ Talemaker asked.

Meg looked at A Ahmud Ki whose face had resumed the stern, aloof expression reserved for the men. ‘A Ahmud Ki was teaching me a spell and it worked better than I expected.’

‘What was it?’ Talemaker asked, his curiosity aroused.

‘I showed her a fire spell,’ A Ahmud Ki explained in fluent Shessian.

‘So you
can
talk,’ Cutter said, an eyebrow raised.

‘I told you he could,’ Talemaker confirmed. ‘Now you believe me.’

‘Speaking without saying anything of consequence is wasted energy,’ A Ahmud Ki replied.

‘Not speaking when others want to hear you is rude,’ Talemaker quipped.

‘Perhaps now you might tell us who you really are,’ Cutter suggested.

‘Meg knows the truth,’ A Ahmud Ki said. ‘There’s nothing more for you to know.’

Cutter’s gaze stayed fixed on A Ahmud Ki and an uncomfortable silence descended until Talemaker broke it with, ‘Well, now you can speak there’s no need to keep to yourself. I think we should eat.’

Cutter broke his eye contact with A Ahmud Ki and to Meg he said, ‘He’s right. Come and eat. We need to plan what to do when we get to Westport.’ He looked back at A Ahmud Ki and added, ‘Now that you’ve found your voice you should join us.’

A Ahmud Ki looked at Meg before he responded to Cutter with, ‘I’m not hungry, but I will join you in your planning.’

V
ision stared at the space between the bedposts for a long time, unaware of Onyx entering the chamber until the older Seer coughed, and asked, ‘Is it possible?’

Vision’s grave expression gave Onyx his answer. ‘The only question is how,’ Vision said.

‘How what? How she vanished for more than ten years?’ Onyx queried.

‘That,’ Vision agreed, ‘but I also want to know why she vanished.’

‘Can we be sure it’s the Abomination?’

Vision hesitated, before saying, ‘The descriptions fit. Red-haired woman, young. She even had a black rat. The Abomination could vanish at will. My father told me how she vanished from the island where she was imprisoned.’ He waved his hand through the space between the bedposts as if he expected to discover something tangible.

‘When the Kerwyn Warlord ordered me here three days ago to explain the magic while the portal was still live, I was told by him that troops in the east reported encountering what they called a witch several times in the past year. Broadback was sceptical, although he admitted that his war party encountered a red-haired
witch when they first came into Shess, but he said she was killed by thundermakers,’ said Onyx.

‘Where was that?’ Vision asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Onyx replied. ‘Why?’

‘Arrange a meeting with the Warlord. I need to ask him what he knows.’

‘What about the Abomination?’ Onyx asked.

Vision shook his head. ‘We have no way of following her with her magical doorway closed. All we can hope for is news of where she’s gone. But I need to know her identity for certain. Logic tells me it can’t be the same woman who killed my father. If it is her, Jarudha Himself will offer her up to me.’

Broadback was not a religious man and if it wasn’t for the King’s orders he would have put all of the barbarian priests—these Seers as they insisted on being called—to the sword when the city fell, along with the wretches his soldiers found hiding in the rubble and abandoned buildings. The Seer accompanying his army did give him useful information that helped to bring about the city’s surrender, and the priests were responsible for the magic of the thundermakers and thunderclaps that gave the Kerwyn the upper hand throughout much of the war, which only reinforced his view that they were treacherous creatures better eliminated than allowed to live. He reluctantly agreed to meet the Seer leader—a man who gave himself the laughable title of His Eminence—but he was determined not to be embroiled in any political deviousness the Seers might be engineering. Accompanied by his entourage of bodyguards and his half-brother, Lance Shortarms, he waited outside the temple, growing impatient that he, the conqueror, the man who held their fate in his hands, was being made to wait in the afternoon sun like a common messenger. ‘The wheel will turn,’ he muttered
to Shortarms, ‘and the King will see what fools these priests are.’

Three acolytes led the Warlord and his men into the temple hallway and they followed the curve until they stopped outside a grey wooden door where the acolytes gestured for Broadback to enter. Broadback ordered his guards to take position outside the door and then he and Shortarms went into the windowless chamber. The plan had been for two Seers to meet with the Warlord and his second, so Broadback was immediately suspicious to find six Seers at the table, their light blue robes glowing in the lanternlight. ‘This wasn’t the agreement!’ he snapped, his hand wrapping around his sword hilt.

Onyx rose, palms extended upward, saying in Kerwyn, ‘Welcome, Warlord Broadback. We are gathered to honour your victory. My brothers wanted to share in this moment.’

Broadback glared at Vision before acknowledging the nodding heads at the table. ‘The Kerwyn are blunt people,’ he said brusquely. ‘An agreement is followed to the letter. We don’t play tricks.’

Onyx smiled warmly. ‘This I explained to my brothers, but they insisted on being allowed to honour you,’ he offered diplomatically. ‘They mean no harm in gathering here.’

‘I don’t see any weapons,’ Shortarms whispered.

‘You can’t see magic,’ Broadback replied in a level voice, meant to carry to the Seers. He studied the assembled Seers again. ‘Which one of you is called Vision?’

‘I am Vision,’ Vision replied and stood.

The man was younger than Broadback expected, especially as the rest of the Seers were clearly old men. ‘I agreed to speak to you and one other,’ Broadback said.

Vision nodded. He turned to the four still seated and said quietly, ‘It’s best that you should leave us.’

The four Seers rose without protest, bowing to Vision and then to Broadback before they withdrew. After the door closed, Broadback and Shortarms sat without invitation. ‘I have a great deal to do before the King arrives,’ Broadback told the Seers as they resumed their seats. ‘Make this brief.’

Onyx looked at Vision, whose face was expressionless as he asked, ‘What do you know of the witch you saw in Summerbrook?’

‘I don’t know this Summerbrook,’ said Broadback.

‘A village in the north. I heard you saw a witch there.’

‘We killed a witch there,’ Broadback answered.

‘How do you know she was a witch?’ Vision asked.

Broadback glanced at Shortarms and said, ‘She used magical fire against my men.’

‘You saw her do this?’

‘Why so much interest in a dead witch?’ Broadback asked with undisguised contempt.

‘Was there a rat with her?’ Broadback blinked as if the question was absurd. ‘Did you see her use magic?’ Vision repeated, as if Broadback’s question hadn’t been asked.

‘No,’ Broadback said, ‘but someone reliable did, and I believe what he said he saw.’

‘Who was that?’

‘None of your business,’ Broadback snarled, and he started to rise. ‘I didn’t come here to be interrogated by someone who is
my
prisoner.’

Vision rose from his seat. ‘What colour was the witch’s hair?’

‘It was red,’ said Broadback.

‘So you saw her?’

‘Floating in the river, dead,’ said Broadback. ‘Now answer my question—why the interest in a dead witch when there’s a live one you have to deal with.’

‘Are you certain the witch was dead?’

Broadback led Shortarms to the door, stopped and replied, ‘She was as dead as your king. I saw the head wound from the thundermaker. She was dead.’ He opened the door and strode out.

In the sunlight, heading for his new headquarters in the former Royal palace, Broadback considered what he’d gleaned from the interview. Clearly the Seers thought that the witch that Slayer killed was the same witch who vanished in the palace. That was impossible, of course, but it was also obvious that the witches were the Seers’ enemies, dangerous enough for the Seers to hunt them down, and that was information he would remember for the future. He smiled grimly, deciding that anyone who was an enemy of the barbarian priests had to have some merit. And then he remembered the vision of the woman lying on the bank of the stream. There
had
been a rat, perched on her back as if it owned the corpse—a black rat. He stopped, his companions halting with him. ‘What’s wrong?’ Shortarms asked.

Broadback shook his head. ‘Nothing,’ he answered and walked on, but the memory niggled at him.

Vision closed his father’s personal journal, laid it reverently on his desktop, and leaned back into his chair. ‘What happened at Whiterocks Bluff, father?’ he whispered at the leather-bound book. ‘Did she kill you and fool the rest of us that she was dead? Is that why Light disappeared as well? Did she kill him, too, and fool us again?’ He hunched forward, buried his face in his hands to rub his weary eyes, took a deep breath and sat back, contemplating the questions.
If
—and it was a big if—the Abomination was still alive, then the Conduit still existed and the hope of releasing the Demon Horsemen to cleanse the world’s impurities to create Paradise was also alive. If she really was dead, then who was this witch the Kerwyn spoke of? ‘No,’ he
said, shaking his head, ‘too many coincidences. I don’t know how you defied death so many times, but I know it’s you. I want it to be you. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to kill my father’s murderer.’ He stood and paced across the chamber to the high narrow window that let a cleft light into his room during the day and allowed him to glimpse a tiny section of Jarudha’s stars at night. Gazing out, he could see a band of stars the Seer astronomers had called Jarudha’s Sash. Just above them was a bright star called the Holy Jewel because it sparkled like a giant diamond. ‘Holy Lord, gracious Jarudha,’ he began quietly, passion simmering in his voice. ‘Hear your faithful servant. Hear my plea. Let me find this abomination of your Blessing, this evil that stalks us and strikes down your disciples without compassion, and let me be the one who does Your most holy work in destroying what should not be. Deliver into my hands the Conduit and I will do Your will by releasing your Demon Horsemen to purify the world of all evil and make in its place Your promised Paradise. Hear this prayer, most holy Jarudha, hear my plea.’

For days, flotsam from the sea battle washed up every morning along the rocks of the harbour—torn sails, broken spars, crates, baggage, personal effects, bloated and pale corpses. The entrepreneurs among the Shessian survivors who remained in the city scavenged what was useful from the wreckage before sunrise and retreated into the city ruins to add their macabre treasure to their stockpiles.

Kerwyn martial law was brutal in the first three days of occupation with the refugees targeted for extermination, but when news broke that the great Kerwyn king was coming to reward his mighty Kerwyn warriors for exacting a crushing defeat on the barbarians the law suddenly changed to a policy of
forcing the Shessian captives to rebuild the city, restricting their movement to the daylight hours and allowing no one to leave the city perimeter. Port of Joy was to be restored, as quickly as could be managed, to a state worthy of King Ironfist’s presence. Warlord Broadback’s second-in-command, Warshield Slayer, was leading a contingent of the Kerwyn army further south to establish the extent of the old Western Shess borders and determine what relations could be engineered with the Coalition of Chiefs, so he assigned the task of rebuilding the city to his long-time companion, Quickriver Doghunter, whom he promoted to the role of governor-elect. ‘Make the barbarian pigs work from sunrise to sunset,’ Broadback ordered. ‘The King will expect to ride through clean streets.’

‘But there are not enough slaves to do everything that needs to be done,’ Doghunter lamented.

‘More are being brought in from the northern towns,’ Broadback informed him. ‘Child slaves are being marched in to do the menial labour. I’ve ordered men to be taken from the ports to supply your workforce. You just make sure it gets done before the King arrives.’

Broadback refused to listen to the Seers’ petition for a special force of soldiers to be assigned to hunting the witch. As much as a witch could prove to be irritating to him in a confrontation, he knew from experience that the thundermakers were very capable of stopping a witch and he enjoyed knowing that the Seers were dependent on him to find her. ‘This Abomination will destroy you if you let her escape,’ Onyx told him in the only interview he granted on the matter after the first meeting. ‘Give us the soldiers to hunt her down and you will applaud what we do.’

‘I don’t have the men to spare for your personal mission,’ Broadback replied. ‘If the witch reappears, then I’ll decide how to deal with her.’ He knew his
refusal infuriated the Seers, but it was more than a simple reluctance to help on his part. The Seers had to fully understand who exactly was in charge in this world—not priests babbling religion, but men with real power, men like him who controlled vast armies. ‘If you want to earn my favour,’ he told Onyx, ‘tell your leader that your first task is to lead your people in rebuilding the city for King Ironfist’s arrival. Do this and I will consider your request.’

The Seers persisted in sending Onyx to ask Broadback to change his mind, but he steadfastly ignored Onyx’s attempts to see him. Finally, when he received news from his own men that the Seers were working among the Shessian refugees, encouraging them to take on the gruelling responsibility of rebuilding the city, he smiled, pleased that his will was stronger than the will of the barbarian priests.

‘Be strong. Know that Jarudha watches and hears all. He sees your struggle and feels your pain, and He is with you. What you suffer now is nothing more than a passing shadow in the eternal life Jarudha offers His faithful when He returns and Paradise is once again on earth. Blessed are those who suffer injustice in silence for they will be the first through the doors of Paradise.’ Seer Emerald made the holy sign of the circle over the heads of the children gathered in the square before he dismissed them to work under the watchful eyes of the supervising Kerwyn soldiers. Then he climbed down from the rubble which served as his dais and crossed the square to meet young Seer Sunlight who came to relieve him of his duty.

‘How many children have they got here?’ Sunlight asked, studying a team passing stones to builders who were repairing a wall.

‘Upward of a hundred,’ Emerald informed him.

‘“The suffering of the children is the loudest cry in Jarudha’s ears”,’ Sunlight quoted. ‘So many were orphaned by this war.’

‘Remember,’ said Emerald, placing a hand on Sunlight’s shoulder and staring into the fresh face of the young man who’d been the acolyte named Shadow, ‘this world is nothing in Jarudha’s eyes. It is a place only of evil, a place that will be cleansed when the Demon Horsemen ride through.’

‘I know,’ said Sunlight, nodding, ‘but children are innocent.’

‘We are all born from sin,’ said Emerald. ‘We are sinful whether we know it or not. Ignorance is not innocence. Remember the words of Alun, who wrote: “Those who claim not to know of the evil in this world proclaim their own evil by their words”.’

Sunlight nodded. ‘The scripture is always the source of understanding.’

‘You are well to go to it every day. It will guide you and nourish your faith, and stop you from wandering down pathways of ignorance.’ Emerald patted the young Seer’s shoulder and excused himself.