Angel Isle (22 page)

Maja slid down, staggered to Ribek’s side, crouched and put her arm round his shoulders, for her comfort as much as his, then looked again out to sea.

The moving light had almost reached the headland. Azarod’s whip lashed toward it, and the lightning, almost continuous now, danced around it. The light didn’t falter. The roar of thunder seemed to shake the whole hill.

No, the hill had indeed shaken, but not because of the thunder, for that ceased as the lightning died, but another colossal bass roaring was still there, not blast upon blast like the thunder but steady and continuous. The whole hill shuddered to its sound. And by the next flurry of lightning they saw that a full half of the massive headland had fallen away, and the rocks it had been made of, millions of tons of them, weren’t simply lying out of sight at the foot of the new line of cliffs, but were shooting out like water sluicing across a tiled floor, forming a kind of causeway through the waves toward the place from which the demon Azarod arose.

Now the pale light came into view, speeding along the causeway toward the demon. Uselessly Azarod lashed with his whip. He turned away, but the rocks closed round his base before he could flee. They surged upward, building themselves into a rugged wall, into a vast rock pillar, encasing him, covering him over. The last howl of his tempest snapped short and he was gone.

The pale light faded. The wind eased and died. The clouds drifted apart, thinned, became silvery with moonlight, cleared away. Four people were left standing on a hillside, another inert on the ground at their feet, horses greeting each other with whickers in the stillness.

“What…what happened?” whispered Maja. “To Benayu, I mean? And Ribek?”

“I don’t know what
happened,
” said Saranja irritably. “Nobody’s told me what’s going on. I’ll tell you what I saw. I was sitting with Benayu worrying where you’d got to when Ribek came pounding up the hill. I’ve never seen a man so shattered with running. He pretty well fell flat in front of Benayu, but managed to crawl forward and hold out his fist in front of Benayu’s face. I thought he was going to punch him. ‘Breathe this. Can’t explain,’ he said. He only just managed to get the words out. He opened his hand, Benayu took a sniff and Ribek collapsed. Benayu looked baffled for a moment, and then he seemed to be listening to someone. Then he thought for a bit and nodded. ‘Very well, I agree,’ he said, and lay down like he is now.

“Then there was light all around us, and this woman standing beside him. I think it was a woman, but there was some kind of veil over her head and her robe covered the rest of her. I couldn’t see her feet, but I thought she was floating a little above the ground. She didn’t say anything, but she turned and looked out at that monster that seemed to be making the storm. She stood like that for quite a long while and…”

She broke off, staring over Maja’s shoulder. Maja turned and saw the pale light floating toward them. She helped Ribek to his feet and they stood and waited

“Well, at least she’s coming back,” said Saranja. “Perhaps she’ll do something about Benayu. He’s still alive, but I don’t like his pulse. It’s incredibly slow.”

The light reached them and stopped. The tall, veiled figure within it, neither man nor woman as far as Maja could see or sense, turned, raised an arm and pointed toward the pillar that imprisoned the demon. A light flared from its summit, and continued to burn as the figure turned again and stood beside Benayu. It seemed to shrink a little, and was now clearly a woman. She lifted her veil aside to reveal a calm, pale face, looking as if it had been carved from marble and polished to that unnatural smoothness. Or perhaps that was the effect of the moonlight.

The groom snatched off his hat and fell on his knees, covering his face with his hands.

“Stand, my friend,” said the woman. “You have done well. While my powers are on me I would like to reward you. I could take twenty years off your age if you choose.”

“More than’s right, m’lady. I’ll be happy to go in my natural time, but a good, healthy life for me and the missus till then…”

His voice tailed off, as if he felt ashamed to ask even for that.

“Good,” she said. “My blessing is on you.”

“What about Benayu?” said Saranja, firmly refusing to be awestruck.

“He must sleep a long while. What lies there is only his physical body, with barely enough of his inward self left to keep it breathing. All of the rest he passed into this form, as I had done out of my own body that still lies sleeping down in Larg, and with our joint powers we mastered the demon. I could not have done it without him. But now, if all that he had lent me, and besides that all that he has acquired by sharing this form with me, were to return in one rush where it belongs, it would destroy his physical body. He must sleep for all this night, and tomorrow, and another night, summoning it power by power in due order. Then, that next dawn, he can safely wake.

“But even then he must rest. Though he is naturally extremely gifted, he is very young, both for the work we did tonight and for the powers he now possesses. He will need to sleep long hours, and to do no magic at all until he knows himself to be fully ready. And you must care for him in every way you can. He is the Empire’s best hope for generations to come.”

She turned to the groom.

“You, my friend, may return to the city and tell the Proctors what you have seen and heard. You others can wait here, and in the morning the Proctors will decide how they can reward you all for what you have done. That will be their choice, not mine. Farewell.”

She was gone, and they were left on the hillside listening to the rejoicing bells of the city and gazing out at Larg’s new seamark summoning ships to harbor from league on league of moonlit ocean.

CHAPTER
10

J
ex spoke briefly in the middle of the night, in a voice so faint that Maja strained to hear it.

“There is a touching point near Barda. An island off the coast. Angel Isle.”

The sun was barely clear of the horizon and the dawn still dew-fresh when the old groom came riding up the hillside, accompanied by a uniformed functionary and two servants leading pack mules. Maja was already awake, so rose and staggered down to meet them with her finger to her lips.

“Morning, missy,” said the groom, grinning. “Thought you’d be fancying a bit of breakfast.”

“Lovely,” she whispered. “I’m starving. But please don’t wake Ribek. He pretty well killed himself, running up the hill last night. Shall I get Saranja?”

The functionary interrupted with a pompous cough.

“You have two hours,” he said. “At that point a delegation from the Court of Proctors will arrive to greet and thank you for your services to the City of Larg. It would be appreciated if you and your friends are ready to receive them.”

“We’ll do our best.”

“Furthermore, I am instructed to enquire of you how the City may best reward you for the aforementioned services. We will need to know your names. Perhaps you had better wake your friend.”

Saranja was always snarly first thing, and wasn’t at her most gracious as she spelled the names out and the functionary wrote them down. He became steadily huffier, and barely controlled his astonishment at the idea that they couldn’t wake Benayu and they’d need a litter for him.

“I will inform the Court of your requirement,” he said stiffly, and bowed and turned away.

“Could have asked a bit more than that, missy,” the groom whispered to Maja. “Gave me a medal and a purse of silver without me so much as hinting.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the functionary, already fussing over his horse’s harness, making it clear he was too important to keep waiting.

“I’d better be off,” he said. “You’ll be coming back to Larg one day?”

“I hope so.”

“Look us up, supposing you do. We’ll have a lot to talk over.”

He trotted off, cupped his hands to give the functionary a leg-up into his saddle, and then swung himself up as nimbly as if he’d been thirty years younger.

They rode away down the hill, the groom keeping a respectful half length behind the functionary. The two servants stayed and unloaded the mules. There were fresh logs for the fire, fodder for the horses, cooking utensils and two hampers.

Maja opened one, found a long, narrow, crusty loaf, still warm from the oven, and broke a piece off to keep her going till breakfast was ready.

Ribek groaned, yawned, stretched and sat stiffly up.

“I’ve been dreaming of sausages,” he grumbled. “Still am. Fat chance up here.”

“It isn’t our kind of sausage,” said Maja through an unfinished mouthful. “But it’s lovely. Here.”

She offered him her plate.

“Still dreaming,” said Ribek, and helped himself. Happily she watched him munching like a well man.

“Jex spoke to me last night,” she said. “He sounded terribly weak. But he says there’s a touching point near Barda. It’s called Angel Isle.”

He nodded, but his mouth was too full of sausage for him to answer.

“Do you think it’s all right to move Benayu, supposing Sponge will let us touch him?” said Saranja as they watched the procession climb the road. “I mean, does he have to stay where he is till he’s got all his whatever-it-is back?”

“Anima, I suppose,” said Ribek, wiping the grease off his mouth and fingers and rising to his feet. “This sort of thing—it comes from another universe, Benayu says. Maybe our ‘here’ doesn’t matter there.”

“Anyway, Zara would have told us,” said Maja, rising too and moving with the others to the roadside to meet the procession.

A mounted herald in a splendid surcoat, with a banner sticking up from his saddle, led the way. Behind him came six Proctors, and several other dignitaries, all on horseback, and an armed escort on foot. The morning sunlight glittered off their spear points in the clean hill air. The travelers waited respectfully for the riders to dismount.

The herald lifted a trumpet to his lips and blew a strange, unmusical note:
Paaarrrrrp!
He took a scroll from his pouch and started to read.

“Plenipotentiary delegation from the Court of Proctors of the Sovereign City-State of Larg. Occasion: Award of the Freedom of Larg to the following. Saranja Urlasdaughter, please step forward.”

She did so, head high, as if born for this moment of glory. The President opened one of the boxes, took out what looked like a gold medal on a chain and hung it round Saranja’s neck.

“Saranja Urlasdaughter,” he said, “by order of the Council of Proctors I hereby invest you with the state and all the ancient privileges of a Freewoman of Larg.”

He handed her the scroll, and then almost managed to startle her out of her hero mode by kissing her soundly on both cheeks, but she recovered enough to thank him and say she was very honored and shake his hand.

Ribek when his turn came walked forward with a different kind of swagger, halfway to a dance step, took his kisses as if this sort of thing happened to him most weeks, and winked at Maja as he returned. If she’d been told beforehand that this was going to happen she’d probably have been overwhelmed with shyness, but she managed to carry it off. The President spoke to her in a gentler voice, his kisses were feather light, and he held on to her hand for a moment after he’d shaken it.

“How old are you, Maja?” he asked.

“Twelve, sir.”

“I thought so. I have a granddaughter just your age. If ever she achieves half of what you have done for Larg I shall be proud of her indeed.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Benayu had the same pronouncement read over him. His medal was laid on his chest, but he didn’t get kissed—perhaps because it would have been a hands-and-knees job, and Presidents don’t do that.

Another Proctor stepped forward, opened yet another scroll and started to make a speech.

“Last night will live in the memory of Larg as long as our walls remain, and with it will live the names of these chance-come strangers, who are now strangers no more, but…”

And so on, for some while. When he was finished, servants came round with trays of sweet fizzy white wine in silver goblets, and there were several toasts, after which they stood around finishing their wine and chatting. Ribek was in his element, and Maja stayed close by, not talking much but enjoying his enjoyment. The man who’d lettered the scrolls came up and explained what the Freedom of Larg meant. They got a month’s free board and lodging whenever they passed through, and if in old age they decided to end their days in Larg, the city would keep them in comfort till they died. Furthermore, Larg had treaties with all the seaports up and down the coast, and if they showed their scrolls at any of these they’d be treated as honored guests and helped on their way.

“I don’t suppose Barda’s one of them,” said Ribek. “I think it’s just a fishing village—or used to be.”

“Yes, we have a treaty with Barda. It’s certainly a regular seaport, and has been for many years. It’s still famous for its oysters, but it’s a great deal more than a fishing village these days. After all, Larg must have been a fishing village once. It’s a fair distance north. If that’s where you’re heading for you could consider taking a sea passage, though the season of storms is approaching, and after what we saw last night…”

“That sounds helpful,” said Ribek. “I’d love to be able to listen to the sea.”

Maja tugged at his sleeve.

“What about Benayu?” she whispered. “Zara said her powers were weaker over the sea.”

“Good point. Better not risk it,” he said, and explained to the man.

It was midmorning before they were able to move off with six of the guard to accompany them as they skirted Zara’s ward. A handsome barge took them across the river, and on the further shore there were several hundred citizens and groups of schoolchildren lined up to cheer them as they disembarked and a flute-and-drum band to lead them to another feast laid out under a vast scarlet and gold pavilion.

As they were being shown to their places one of the Provosts stopped them.

“One moment,” he said. “There’ll be a few speeches afterward, and it would be appreciated if one of you would reply.”

“Not me,” said Saranja instantly.

“All right, I’ll give it a go,” said Ribek.

“It needn’t be more than a few words,” said the Provost, clearly doubting this stranger’s ability to produce an oration up to the high standards of Larg. “And after that you would be well advised to rest. We are arranging with one of the desert tribes to guide you to the Highway, and they prefer to travel by night, when the snakes and scorpions are less active.”

“We won’t have much trouble getting to sleep after we’ve had a share of that lot,” said Ribek, with a nod at the loaded tables.

That was true. Maja, in fact, couldn’t wait, and fell asleep during the speeches. She was woken by the sound of laughter. Ribek was on his feet obviously enjoying himself, with his audience in the palm of his hand. He waited for the laughter to die.

“One last thing,” he said, still in his usual light tone. “We—Maja and I—met and talked to the Sleeper. It’s something we’ll remember as long as we live. None of you have been so lucky, but you know she’s there, asleep. She always has been, and as far as you’re concerned, she always will be. But she won’t. She’s very old, and tired and lonely, and longing to be released from her task and go. It must be terrible to die alone, far from the people you most love. At least she isn’t that. She’s right here, among them, among you. And the best thing you can do for her is to love her back. I am sure you admire and respect and honor her no end, but that isn’t the same thing. Love her. Show your love for her. Plant a rose in your garden for her sake. Teach your children to love her—don’t use her to frighten them when they don’t behave. That sort of thing. I’m sure you’ll think of ways. Whatever it is, she’ll know. Even in her dreams, she’ll know.”

He sat down. The first speech, before Maja had nodded off, had been followed by polite applause. This time there was silence. Everyone looked a bit stunned. Somebody started to clap dubiously. Slowly the rest joined in. There was nothing as crude as outright cheering, but it seemed to Maja that the clapping had a different feel about, more than polite. Meant, natural. It stopped only when the President rose smiling to thank Ribek and declare the feast over.

A tent had been got ready for the travelers to rest in for the few hours before their guides arrived. Benayu slept unstirring on one of the beds with Sponge curled up at his feet. There was a well-licked dish and a bowl of water beside the bed. Maja flopped onto hers fully clothed and was asleep before she had drawn three breaths. The next she knew she was on a horse somewhere—Levanter, her extra sense told her—with her right cheek numb from pressing against his mane and neck. The air was cold and dry. The sound of the horses’ hooves was no more than a soft
pad, pad.
She opened her eyes, and immediately screwed them shut against the glare of moonlight. In that glimpse she had seen a ghost, black against the glare, swathed from head to foot in a hooded cloak, its only visible feature one spidery arm holding Pogo’s bridle. Then she was asleep again.

Next time she stirred enough for Ribek, riding in the saddle behind her, to realize she had woken and steady her as she sat groaningly up.

“High time,” he said. “It’s past midnight. Best try to stay awake now, or you won’t sleep during the day. Stay there a moment.”

He slid himself down, helped her back onto the pillion and remounted. She stared around as they rode on. In every direction the desert stretched away, seeming almost featureless under the big moon. A little way ahead of the party two shadows danced along over the dusty earth. She could barely see the guides who cast them. Saranja and Rocky were on her right, with another guide beyond them. Pogo was still there on her left, led by a guide. For a moment Maja thought he was carrying some kind of sack on his back, but then she realized it was another of the tribespeople facing away, hunched down, riding sidesaddle. Benayu’s litter followed, with another guide leading each pony.

A quiet, throbbing vibration, not like anything she’d felt before, was coming from behind her. Craning round, she saw two more of the guides bringing up the rear, walking with a peculiar gliding pace and carrying short branches. As she was looking at them they halted, turned and waved their branches in the air. A breeze sprang up out of nowhere, picking up little flurries of dust and depositing them over the stretch that the party had just crossed.

Now she realized that the same sort of thing was happening ahead of them. The two tribespeople leading the way weren’t merely there as guides—they were using the same sort of magic to do something else. Drive something away, she thought—yes, of course, snakes and scorpions. She shuddered. There’d been only one kind of snake in the Valley, and it wasn’t poisonous, but still she had a horror of the creatures. She didn’t know much about scorpions, and she didn’t want to.