In the Earth Abides the Flame (63 page)

Again and again the Arkhos picked himself up from the ground, only to be thrown down again by the agonised earth. The wound on his hand reopened and began to bleed, but he hardly noticed it. A great rage at being thwarted allowed no space for any fear he might have felt. 'Shoot! Shoot!' he cried to his archer, but his voice was swallowed by the ear-numbing noise. Dunay could not have shot in any case, as he lay flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him by a hard fall. The Captain of the Guard was nowhere to be seen.

'Get out of here!' Phemanderac cried in Kurr's ear. 'Now!' At any moment the mountains themselves and the basin between them might go sliding down into the Vale of Neume. A few stumbles at a time, made in between the worst of the shocks, were all the pair could manage.

Leith buried his head close to the rock, so did not see the chasm close up, a great wound healed in a powerful, astonishing instant. The solid rock rolled like waves of the sea, flowing from left and right as each Sentinel sent power down into the earth's very roots. The ravine filled with rock, leaving no trace of the fissure that a moment before had divided the Arkhos and his men from the questers for the Arrow.

Leith lost his grip on the Jugom Ark. It went bouncing away out of sight, soundless amidst the surrounding din. He turned his head to follow its path and cracked his temple on a temporary swelling of rock. The darkness roared, and his mind went out like a doused candle.

Some time later he awoke, and the world about him had changed. The mist dissolved under the gaze of the morning sun, which squatted low over him like an angry father. The ground still shook, but not as vigorously as before, and the tremors were intermittent now. His first coherent thought was about the Arrow. Where is it? He tried to stand, fell on to all fours and was noisily sick on the bare rocks. A little while later he raised himself to his feet, gingerly and with care so as not to send his head spinning again. There was a strong metallic taste in his mouth.

A bizarre landscape unfolded before him. What had once been - what had only yesterday been

- a place of sacred beauty was now a chaotic wreck, testimony to the wrath of the magic Bewray had woven into the fabric of the rock. The island in which the Arrow had been hidden was gone, along with the lake that had surrounded it. The basin of the Joram was now a rock-pit, like the quarry at the head of White Forks valley a few miles to the west and north of Vapnatak; all cliffs and angularity, with newly faceted black boulders lying where they had fallen. Rock-slides continued to tumble boulders and stones down into the crumpled hollow.

Leith craned his aching head skywards, and there stood the Sentinels revealed. Stern heights towered above him, to the left and to the right, but both peaks were hidden in wispy cloud, as though reluctant to give up all vestiges of secrecy. 'What have you done to my friends!' he shouted at them. They did not reply, and the effort nearly made him black out again.

A few yards behind him the basin ended abruptly, and the land fell two thousand feet to the Vale of Neume, smoking hazily in the morning sun. Leith swallowed. He had not realised how close to the edge he had been.

A noise like the rattle of a rock just behind him made him jerk his head around. It was for that reason as much as the sight of a large robed figure not five yards away that he fainted.

In this fashion did Maendraga, Guardian of the Jugom Ark, come upon Leith of Loulea, the sole remaining member of the Arkhimm.

THE SMILING, DARK-HAIRED MAN had indeed received the fire, the first to do so under Stella's tutelage. She merely asked the Most High to meet his needs, and as she extended her hand towards him he fell to the ground, seemingly unconscious. Concerned, Stella moved to help him rise, but the Hermit himself stepped in. 'Let him lie there and soak for a while,'

advised the blue-robed man. 'He'll laugh later.'

'What's happening to him?' Stella asked, uneasy at the increasingly strange sights she was seeing in the Ecclesia. 'Is he one of the Blessed?'

'Yes, he is one of the Blessed,' confirmed the Hermit. 'The anointing of power is strong on him. He is marked out for a high destiny, and his deeds will be heard the world over. But leave him for now. He communes with the Most High in his own way.'

Half an hour later the dark-haired man, having recovered, sought Stella out. 'Thank you for what you have given me,' he said politely. I am innocent, I am obvious; don't think too hard about who 1 am or what I'm doing. The Wordweave was subtly applied, and Stella was unaware of it.

'That's all right,' she replied, smiling herself. 'Though it was the Most High, not me. The Hermit says you are one of the Blessed.'

'Oh?' His fine features registered surprise. 'What are the Blessed?'

'They are die ones who will play leading roles in the rebirth of this city,' Stella said earnestly.

'He said there is an anointing of power on you.'

'Did he? I should very much like to meet this man. Would you be able to arrange it for me?'

There is someone else I would like to meet even more.

'I can ask him,' she said sweetly. 'Would you like me to be there too?' Now why had she said that?

'I haven't asked you your name,' the handsome man said. 'Do you have one? And where are you from? You are no Instruian, that is for certain.' He smiled as he asked the questions, but the Wordweave probed deeper: you will have no secrets from me.

Stella found herself talking with this fascinating man, and with little prompting telling him about their adventures, sharing with him her part in their endeavour. She took him to her primitive home in the cold north, sparing him none of her scorn for the place of her birth, then on along the Westway through Mjolkbridge and Windrise, past the Fenni and into the danger of the Roofed Road. She dwelt for a while on events in Bandits' Cave, surprising herself with her recollections; for some reason her companion listened to the tale of Hal and the Hermit with particular interest. Then she described their adventures on the Southern Run, and the battle with the Bhrudwans; again the man listened carefully, asking seemingly artless questions designed to reveal the strength of the northerners. Then, skilfully interrupting her as she moved on to matters known to him, he told her of himself. His name was Tanghin, he said; he was from Bhrudwo, a land far to the east, a nephew of the King of Jasweyah and a man of great wealth. 'I am here on my master's business, to deal with the Council of Faltha,'

he said, the greater deceit being in the perfect truth of the words. 'I will be here for some months. I hope I have the chance to get to know you better.'

'I hope so too,' said Stella, a little breathlessly.

'Do you really think the Ecclesia can bring about the changes you say?' Tanghin shaped his voice to sound naively sceptical.

'All change starts at the personal level,' replied the Hermit earnestly. 'Once you have changed from the inside, once you have caught the fire, then you can do anything. And a city of people like that, united in purpose and vision behind the man of God -what could they not accomplish?'

'Ah yes, the man of God. You are that man?' What do you really think?

'I am merely he who prepares the way,' answered the Hermit humbly. 'I am the fire-starter.

But the fire is the important thing, not the man.'

'So what happens next?'

'I have no idea,' came the candid reply. 'But I do know the Most High has a part for you to play. Will you play that part?'

'And what part is that?' Tanghin leaned forward in his chair, projecting passionate interest.

'You are a leader of men; it is written all over you. You are a man of many gifts. But you stand on the knife-edge of decision. To follow the Way of Fire will cost you everything. Your allegiance to your country, your position, and much of your wealth. But what you gain will be far greater: a chance to serve the Most High, and to see the presence of the Most High established once again amongst the First Men of Faltha.' Now the Hermit leaned forward, and spread his arms wide. 'I see you in a vision. You have your arm outstretched, and fire falls on Falthans - yes, even the Council of Faltha burns at your command. The true power of life or death is in your hands.'

You speak truly. Aloud, he said: 'I want to see all Faltha burn,' and as he spoke his smile spread wider.

Stella watched and listened as the two men talked. Undoubtedly this man Tanghin was destined for greatness in the Ecclesia. Indeed, he could even be the man of god the Hermit talked about. And she had given him the fire! Surely now they would begin to take her seriously, and treat her as something more than a child.

As they talked, her thoughts drifted away. She was so thankful now that Wira and she had not married. She was sorry for his fate, but she was free to serve the Ecclesia, and Tanghin was a handsome man of substance ...

As late summer matured into autumn, the Ecclesia grew beyond Foilzie's basement, forcing the Company to take lodgings across the street. The Hermit was in complete control now, taking counsel only seldom, and that with a group of 'elders', as he called them - they were all men, and some were barely out of their teens -most of whom Stella barely knew. Meetings started in other parts of the city, each placed under the care of an elder. When asked why he neglected the northerners in choosing his leadership, the Hermit would reply, in a kindly tone:

'The fire has started here in this city. Why should not the Instruians set the torch to Instruere?'

And to his closest advisers he would add, more sharply: 'Though my companions have a great anointing, they are proud and unwilling to let go of their understanding of the cause. The Most High can do nothing with them until they come to repentance. They must submit to the leadership.' And his elders would nod wisely, pleased with the notion of the northerners under their authority.

In those days the man called Tanghin rose high in the regard of the Hermit, showing himself to be wise and a leader of men, not allowing sentiment to cloud his judgment. Thus he was appointed an elder, to the delight of Stella, though she could not help but wonder at the speed of his elevation; and he was given charge of the meeting at the Talman market, in the north of the old city of Inna, near the northern gate. Long hours he and the Hermit spent in conversation, and the blue-robed visionary learned much from his trusted adviser. 'You have great experience in the governance of men,' said the Hermit, 'and I am grateful the Most High has married you to our cause.'

Tanghin smiled, and replied: 'I have written to my king, telling him I resign from his service.

From now on I will work here in Instruere to see that the fire spreads. And, indeed I seek to be married to your cause in a way your prophetic tongue no doubt anticipated. I will seek the hand of the northern girl Stella. Would you grant me leave to do so?'

Then the Hermit smiled also, and gave his blessing to the match. For Stella was in the palm of his hand, and by this marriage he would bind Tanghin to him.

* * *

It was a night typical of all nights at the Ecclesia. Hundreds packed in and around the basement to hear the Hermit speak, and to receive the fire for themselves. On this night a man Stella had never seen before stepped on to the stage. He was dressed in the garb of a peasant.

'Now they are coming even from outside the city!' she whispered in wonder to Tanghin, who nodded in agreement.

The peasant brought forth a shallow bowl filled with water, and set it on the platform beside him. 'There will be a great shaking,' he cried, 'a great shaking; and the basin will be shaken, and water will be spilled.' Grasping the bowl with both hands, he shook it to emphasise his words, spilling its contents on to the platform. 'The Arrow will be found, and it will be protected by the two Great Ones. Many will try to lay their hands upon it, but only one will carry it.' He turned to the Hermit. 'That's all I received,' he said.

Now the Hermit rose to his feet. 'This is what the Most High says,' he intoned, interpreting the vision. 'A great shaking is coming, in which he will shake the hearts of men everywhere, but beginning here in the basin of Faltha. It has already begun! Behold the beginning of the shaking!' He spread his arms wide, indicating the people standing before him. 'From here it will overflow into all Faltha, an outpouring of the presence of the Most High, shaking men out of their lethargy. The Arrow mentioned by our friend is the will of the Most High, the direction he wants us to go, which will soon be revealed by two among us who will be called great. Seek that revelation, brethren, for it will bring you honour. Yet in the end only one man will be shown worthy, and to him the direction of the Ecclesia will be entrusted.' This last he said in such a way that there could be no doubt as to who he believed that one to be.

Another prophecy went like this. 'One is soon to be revealed, in whose hand the Arrow will flame,' cried a woman in the throes of ecstasy. 'He will lead us into battle with our enemies, and we will conquer them. Many will fall in that day; only remain true to the end, and you will see the victory.'

'This is what the Most High says,' said the blue-robed Hermit. 'Only one man will carry the true direction for the Ecclesia, and thus for all of Faltha. He will burn with the fire of the Most High, and his fire will sweep through Faltha, setting alight many hearts. With the fire in their hearts, the people of Faltha will have the courage to face their inner enemy - whether it is a spirit of doubt, or of fear, or of rebellion. If they persevere, never giving up, they will defeat these enemies, and drive them out.'

Later that night the Trader sat down with his beautiful wife. Tonight they talked of serious things: the fate of their sons, the uncertainty of their quest, and the meaning of the unlooked-for Ecclesia. Mahnum shook his head. 'It's not right. It just doesn't feel right. I wasn't dragged halfway across Faltha in order to listen to the ravings of a mystic'

'You're wrong,' said his wife. 'The Most High used the only method that would have brought you here. If someone had come to Loulea and told you to travel here to receive the fire of the Most High, would you have made the journey?'