In the Earth Abides the Flame (16 page)

'Mercenaries,' Hal interpreted. 'Defectors from the Bhrudwan army, perhaps.' Mahnum raised his eyebrows.

'Perhaps,' Leith commented, 'but they were under the command of the Arkhos of Nemohaim.

Bhrudwans they might have been, but they were merely humans, and proved no match for the skills of Achtal. After he had dealt with them, he—' Leith hesitated.

'We let him go.' Mahnum sighed. 'Not my choice, I assure you; but Leith seemed to think we ought not slay someone without the means to defend himself.' He fell silent, clearly troubled by some memory. Parlevaag's death, perhaps. Or maybe, considered Leith, her husband and the other Fenns cut down by the Bhrudwan raiders. Kroptur's messenger, tormented and dispatched by Bhrudwan swords. A burning Favonian village. Screams. Shrieks. The smell of death.

His eyes cleared and looked into Leith's own. 'Killing the defenceless is the territory of our enemies,' he said.

'There's been more than enough of that,' Hal said in agreement.

'But a habit seemingly adopted by many Falthans,' the Haufuth observed in disgust.

'Especially those living in Instruere.'

'So the Arkhos was allowed to live,' the Hermit said, a tinge of regret in his voice. 'Our enemies will see such mercy as weakness to be exploited.'

'Exercising such mercy strengthens the merciful,' Hal interposed quickly.

Leith looked at him sharply. 1 have the moral high ground, big brother, and you cannot reclaim it. But he was disturbed by the similarity between his brother's words and those that had echoed through his mind when they had the Arkhos of Nemohaim at their mercy.

The Hermit shook his head at this apparent renewal of hostile ties. 'Irrespective of the morality involved, I would suggest we might expect a visit from the Arkhos in short order, accompanied by a full complement of the Instruian Guard.'

This sobered the Company, who until then had not considered the consequences of the escape.

'He won't be coming to thank us for sparing his life,' Stella said.

'But we are not defenceless!' declared Farr, raising his sword. 'Let them come! We will fight them!'

'We cannot,' Kurr responded wearily. 'Not unless we want to fight off the whole of Instruere, who will be told we threaten their city. We have to leave Instruere as soon as possible.'

Perdu waited until the implications of this had settled on the Company, then observed: 'They'll be watching the bridges. We'll not escape from Instruere either north or south. And they'll pass our descriptions around the city. We're trapped.'

Two or three murmurs of assent came from around the room.

'Listen to you!' Foilzie said, hands on hips. 'What's done is done, and plenty of time we'll have to discuss this when we're safe and sound. Until then, we'd best keep away from such arguments.'

Stella was outraged. 'You at least need not flee! Surely you have done no wrong in harbouring us?'

'I'll not take the chance. Besides, you'll be needing a guide to escape this place.'

'Escape? You have an idea?' Kurr rounded on her, hope in his eyes.

Doubt flickered across her well-worn face. 'No. No, not really,' she said, but it was plain she was thinking hard.

'Then we must pack and leave. We may not have much time.' Kurr was clearly becoming agitated.

'Leave for where?' Mahnum asked. 'It may be some time yet before the Arkhos finds out where we live. We will be better served by spending that time trying to come up with a plan.'

'If we head out into the city streets we will be seen by the guards,' said Perdu. 'How big is this city? Are we sure the Arkhos and his guards do not know where we live? And if they don't, how long will it take for them to find us?'

Indrett grimaced. 'No one at the market knows where we live, but you can be sure they'll be asked. Someone will let it slip they know us. The guards will concentrate their search in the tenements near the market. That should give us some time, surely. There are hundreds of tenements to search.'

'It took three days for us to find you,' the Haufuth added.

'At the least we must wait until Phemanderac returns,' Stella said.

Kurr grunted. 'Then let us put our heads together,' he said.

Leith looked at his father, older and more haggard than the gentle, loving man he remembered. 'We escaped The Pinion only to be trapped in another prison. How many people will die if we try to escape this time?'

His father gave him no answer.

With Foilzie keeping an intermittent lookout from high in the tenement, the Company remained in the basement all that day, trying out this idea or that suggestion, interrupted only by the return of Phemanderac; but by evening they had come to the end of their plans and admitted defeat. They were trapped. It didn't matter what they did, their great quest was in ashes. As the rain came down in torrents, beating at the shuttered tenement windows and hammering at the cobbles on the narrow lane outside, the Company sat in silence for the longest time, eyes open yet unseeing, the world of their own efforts and their hard work and all the discussions they had held coming to an end with no promise of anything but swift defeat. Many of them longed for home. Within Leith it was not just an ache for the northern air and a glimpse of a bush-clad hill, but also the haunting memory of a contented family, mother and father sitting quietly on the porch of their home while their boys wrestled together on the cool grass.

A large fire roared in the grate, around which the Company huddled against the unseasonably cold weather. Foilzie came down to join them when the gloom prevented her from keeping watch. The stone-walled basement was much warmer than the draughty upper floors of the old tenement. As evening wore on the air warmed in the room, becoming thick and close; heads began to nod, chins dropped forward on to chests. The Haufuth lay on a couch, soundly asleep, his breath whistling through his broad nose. Outside, the weather showed no sign of relenting.

What conversation remained centred on two groups. Kurr, Hal and Phemanderac talked through yet another fruitless rehash of the few options remaining, then in quiet tones spoke openly for the first time of the dissolution of the Company, hoping perhaps by ones and twos to escape the vigilance of the guards; while Indrett, Stella and Foilzie discussed life in hiding in Instruere. Indrett wondered aloud whether they would return to Loulea. She found the city quite to her taste, she told them. Perhaps they could blend in with the city-dwellers. She knew many of her friends at the market would be willing to help them. But hers was the only optimistic thought expressed amongst the Company, most of whom seemed no longer to care that the Arkhos of Nemohaim might come for them at any time. Perhaps some of them even welcomed it.

Eventually the debate died away, the Haufuth's snoring the only remaining sound competing with the crackle of the fire and patter of rain.

A log shifted in the grate; another, larger log resting on top of it came crashing down out of the hearth, coming to rest on the stone floor, flames playing along its length. No one stirred.

One moment the basement room was in flickering shadow, the only light coming from the dying fire; the next it was ablaze with a searing light that seemed to spring from the grate.

Leith awoke, startled. Through tightly shut eyes he saw a column of purest white light stab down into the room, and knew it was a dream. The column was yellow at the very edges, but whitely opaque in its thickness. A great weight seemed to force him downwards, crushing him against the cold stone floor. The youth tried to cry out, but his voice made no sound. A crackling and a roaring filled the air, so that even had he been able to cry out, his voice would have remained unheard.

Fiery yellow filaments sprang from the column of flame, flashing across the room. Leith saw the flash, but could not avoid the flame holding his death as it arced towards him, then slammed into him with the power of a waterfall, of a glacier, a falling mountain, pinning him to the floor like the flies Druin used to pin to the windowsill.

Now the roar grew so loud he thought his head would burst with the fullness of it. There was something in the sound, something human, something musical; Leith was reminded of the caverns under Adunlok and the sound of Phemanderac's harp, magnified beyond comprehension.

This is not real. This is a dream. I'll run with it and see where it takes me.

The flaming filament continued to pour into Leith, and now he realised his own body was glowing, burning yellow at the edges, shining white at the centre. It was as though a fire had been set inside him and was burning its way out. The noise and the brightness increased well beyond what seemed possible, yet he did not burn, he was not consumed. For a moment he caught an impossible glimpse of the basement, with filaments of fire spreading out from the one central column, each filament burning a member of the Company.

'I have something to show you,' a placid, rich voice spoke, quietly but seemingly loud enough to drown out the raging noise of the fire. 'Do you wish to see it?'

Yes, Leith answered, the word coming out like fire.

Immediately a huge shape materialised in front of him, a massive cube. Leith lifted his head from his prone position and found he could see two facets stretching away into the infinite distance. He craned his neck further, but could not see the top of the cube, as the edge of the facets rose into the clouds. There was no way of telling what it was or what purpose it served.

The cube was in the room, yet somehow Leith knew it was many times bigger than the tenement, or indeed the city.

This is a very vivid dream, he thought.

The voice spoke again, the richness of it thrilling through him like a draught of cool water on a hot summer night. 'This is the love people bear for you,' the voice said. 'I want you to take a good look at it. See how wide, how high and how deep it is.'

Love? For me? Who are you?

As he watched the blo.ck tilted downwards, or perhaps Leith rose above it in the manner of dreams. The wide flat top surface receded into the unguessable distance.

'Look more closely,' the voice instructed him.

He looked closely, as he had been bidden, and saw a small scraping had been taken from the surface of the vast block.

'Do you see this?' said the voice. 'This scraping represents how much of this love you will use up in your lifetime. Now look at how much remains.'

Leith looked, and the enormity of this love began to overwhelm him, forcing him under like a wave, driving him down to the bottom of the sea, drowning him.

'Nothing you do, no matter how foolish, how selfish, how evil, will exhaust the love your family and your friends have for you.'

Why would I dream such a thing?

'Whenever you feel alone, unloved or forsaken, 1 will remind you of what you have seen.'

The vision closed and the voice fell silent.

The little girl Indrett wept under the clear fire, her body shaking with the memory of what her father had done to her night after night all those years ago. Gradually, seeping into her dream-consciousness, came the remembrance of her friends the Northern Lights; and suddenly she could see diem dancing in the fire above and around her, and could hear them singing: The Northern Lights set to music

brush soft across the stage;

Behind the Lights a little girl

flees her father's rage.

Her pleas for help in nightly pain

unnoticed by the sleeping,

Are heard by one who hears such cries

and sets his heart to weeping.

He lays his sceptre by his side

and steps down from his throne;

Ignoring every courtier

he swiftly leaves his home.

Her name he calls as he approaches,

His presence as perfume;

The King of Kings, the Lord Most High,

a sentry in her room.

Outside the Lights dance slow and solemn,

the music whispers low;

The girl lies trembling in the dark,

afraid lest he should go.

His love he pours out selflessly,

to calm her heartfelt fears,

And every night he makes the journey

down throughout the years.

Within her heart there is a box,

The lid is shut down tight;

On suspicion that within

lie terrors of the night.

The time has come to take the key,

Against her fears to fight,

So good may grow from evil sown;

From the midst of darkness, Light.

So it was you all the time, she thought. You are the Northern Lights. Why did I not recognise you?

'Because you were not ready for a father,' came the reply. 'I came to you in the only way you could bear.'

Please don't leave, she begged the fire. By now she shook uncontrollably, as though the fire around her had turned to ice.

'I did not intend to,' said the voice.

And you'll never leave me alone again?

'Never.' The word resonated through the fullness of her mind, giving her the key with which to open the secret box she called her disgrace. He said, never. Her shaking stopped as she looked into the box, and saw no shame there. No shame at all.

Mahnum found himself flat on the floor, weaponless and assailed by an unseen foe. They have brought some hind of flame with them, the Trader thought. Just like the Favonian village. But the inimical sense of evil he had felt then was absent this time, and for some reason he felt no fear. This combination of factors told him he experienced a dream.

'Take off your shirt,' a deep, resonant voice directed him. 'I can't help you unless you do.'

Help me with what? Who are you?

'You've always found it difficult to trust anyone, haven't you.' It was not a question.

Only way to survive as a Trader, Mahnum replied abruptly.

'But that's all it is: survival. Take off your shirt.'

But—

'While you're at it, take off your shoes as well. I'd like to do something about those feet.'

Let me up, then.

'Can I trust you?' the voice said, rumbling with laughter. The fire lessened, and Mahnum found he was able to stagger up to his knees. With shaking fingers he stripped off his shirt.