Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms (20 page)

“I don’t know, Shann,” Lyall
mused. “I think that if I had to make up a story to deceive
someone, I could come up with a hundred better ones than that one.
The fact that it is so fantastic makes it more believable, in a
way. And there are other things. That machine, for
example.

“I don’t know much about
machines, but Alondo does. He’s a virtual genius when it comes to
mechanics. If he says it is something unique, then I believe him.
Finally, there’s the presence of the Chandara.”

“It might be lying.” Shann
protested. “She could have influenced it somehow.”

Lyall looked at her askance.
“Shann, I don’t think you really believe that.”

She felt as if the sands were
shifting beneath her. “…All right, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean
what it says is right, either.”

Lyall glanced over at Boxx. It
was lying with its head resting on the sand, as if patiently
waiting for the debate concerning it to end. “Chandara are odd
creatures,” he began, “but I have never heard of one of them
leaving their forest, let alone attaching themselves to a Kelanni.
People say that they are primitive and dull-witted but I believe
that they simply have thought patterns that are different than
ours. One thing I am fairly convinced of ,though, after a single
conversation with one of them, is that there is no way you could
persuade it to lie for you, or even get it to do something it did
not want to do.

There was a silence as Lyall’s
words sunk in. Finally, it was broken by Lyall himself. “If the
warning from the past is genuine, then we cannot ignore it. If it
is some sort of deception, then that fact will become clear over
time. I suggest that for the moment we should remain watchful. Are
we all agreed?”

Alondo and Shann both nodded.
Lyall put a hand on each of their shoulders, in silent symbol of
unity. After a moment of reflection, he released them, and they
resumed their journey in contemplative silence. Shann felt calmer.
She felt as if she had the old Lyall back, the man she had come to
trust. And the bond the three of them had forged together had been
reaffirmed and strengthened. Yet despite all of Lyall’s good and
fine arguments, there was still something about the Keltar she did
not trust.

I will be watching
you.

~

“As soon as we
are judged to be safe, I would like to conduct
hariath-sharana.
”

Keris looked at Lyall in
disbelief. “Who for?”

“For those that died at the
compound.”

“You’re joking,” she
accused.

“Not at all.”

Keris was tall, but the sandy
haired man still had half a head on her. He was dressed in a light
loose fitting desert coverall. Keris still wore her cloak, dark
tunic and dark breeches, the garb of a Keltar.

She had alighted on the road
surface behind the party and announced that there was no evidence
of their being trailed. Even as she delivered the news, she sensed
that there was a different air about the three of them. The young
girl was still quiet, but her air of open hostility seemed to have
dissipated. The musician with the odd hat seemed to have a twinkle
in his eye and the tall man seemed to have grown in stature. But it
was more than that. They seemed to share an unspoken unity which
expressed itself in the form of half glances and surreptitious
gestures, as if they were part of a cabal from which she was
excluded.

They were an
odd group, to be sure. The fair man seemed to have had some
training as Keltar. That at least made him partially useful.
However, the other two appeared to serve no purpose whatsoever, so
why he had selected them as confederates was a genuine mystery. The
girl had been a kitchen hand before she had embroiled herself in
this business. She was probably quite handy with a bread knife, but
Keris didn’t give much for her chances if the Prophet’s men caught
up to them. She
had
managed to escape from the compound all on her own, in spite
of the increased security, which suggested that she might be more
resourceful than she looked. Keris hoped so.

As for the musician–well she
could only hope that he would have the sense to run and hide when
the time came.

An odd group indeed. A view that
seemed only confirmed, when Lyall suddenly suggested the memorial
gathering.

“Did you know any of the people
in the guardhouse?” She enquired.

“No.”

“Then why–?”

“Because we are Kelanni, and
those who died were Kelanni.” He paused. “We must not forget who
and what we are. If we do, then the Prophet will have destroyed us
without the need for a device.”

“Are you going to do this every
time?”

“How do you mean?”

“Every time
someone dies in this conflict.
Are you
going to conduct hariath-sharana for them all?”

“I do not intend for anyone else
to die.”

Keris was
flummoxed for a moment. The man seemed to have lost his grip on
reality. “Look,” she began. “This is
war
. There are probably going to be
a lot more deaths before we are finished.”

Lyall had a look of quiet
determination. “I am not at war with my own people. There is only
one person who is responsible for all of this. If we stop him, then
the oppression will end.”

Keris laughed without mirth.
“You’re really not very good at this, are you? Being a
revolutionary.”

Lyall looked as if he were
remembering an event long past. He gave a thin smile. “Perhaps not.
But the greatest battle we have to fight is for hearts and minds,
Keris. That is a battle we dare not lose.”

~

Lyall, Alondo and Shann stood
with hands linked in a circle, while Keris watched from a distance.
She could hear them speaking the memorial in low tones. Boxx stood
next to her on its haunches. It seemed intensely interested in the
strange ceremony.

It turned its round head to look
up at her. “What Is The Purpose?”

Keris’ gaze was fixed on the
three. “They are remembering those who died at the
compound.”

“They Are Healing.”

“In a way…I suppose.”

“You Are Kelanni.” Keris did not
turn or answer. Boxx persisted. “You Are Kelanni. Those Are
Kelanni. Kelanni Should Join. Help One Another. It Is The
Key.”

“You don’t understand,” she
murmured, still looking straight ahead. “I can’t.”

“Why?” it asked.

Keris was feeling an unsettling
mix of emotions: sadness, worry, guilt most of all. The last thing
she felt like doing was having a conversation with the enigmatic
creature. She could see out of the corner of her eye that it was
looking at her expectantly.

Broken
limbs…contorted faces…the stain of white blood.
“I killed them,” she confessed. “The people they are
mourning; I am responsible for their deaths.”

Boxx rocked itself from side to
side, although she had no idea what that meant. Finally it spoke.
“Keris Did This To Save Those?”

“I suppose so.” Her eyes were
starting to water involuntarily. She wiped them with her palm,
angry at her own weakness.

“Saving Those Has Injured You,”
Boxx piped shrilly. “So… You Need To Heal Most Of All.”

Keris tried to
push the thought away, but it welled up, forcing itself thorough
the defensive barriers she had carefully constructed.
The only person you can truly rely on is
yourself.
Suddenly, it was as if a dam had
burst inside her. She felt herself walking forward. As she reached
the others, Lyall and Alondo opened up to admit her and she joined
the circle, taking each of their hands. Shann gave her an odd look,
but said nothing.

As the four of them stood in
silent meditation, a lone pink flower bloomed in the sandy soil
nearby. It was a sentinel, announcing that they were nearing the
end of the Southern Desert and approaching the Eastern Plains at
long last, passing over from death to life.

Chapter
13

“Look there!”
Shann pointed across the swathes of golden grass to a place where
taller, purple reeds grew. A pair of dagan stood near the edge of
the reeds, their long limbs and sleek bodies a symbol of grace and
power. Lyall watched them for a moment; then he saw what she saw.
Something sparkling in the bright sunlight.
Water.

Shann kicked her heels and began
running to where the pond glistened, cool and inviting. Come on!”
She called over her shoulder. In a moment, Alondo began running
after her, followed by Lyall. Alondo was whooping and hollering.
The dagan turned tail and fled, bounding through the waving prairie
in great leaps. There was a double splash as Shann and Alondo
reached the water together. They had taken the time only to pull
their boots off. Lyall followed suit, jumping and cannon-balling so
as to swamp the other two. Shann screamed in annoyance and
delight.

Children.
Keris was standing beside
the morgren. She still wore the dark tunic and trousers of a
Keltar, although her flying cloak was safely stowed away in a
saddle pack. She watched the others laughing and splashing and felt
a tinge of jealousy. The water did look inviting. Still, someone
had to stand watch. She settled down cross-legged in the long
grass, pulled out a flask of water and took a long draught. She
shook her head, and her long dark hair settled about her shoulders.
Boxx waddled up and lay down next to her in silence. When they had
left the Great Tree together, she had regarded the creature’s
presence as an annoyance. Over the days that followed however, she
had become accustomed to its strange ways. She even found its
presence oddly comforting.

She looked up at the wide open
sky. Out here on the plains, the light was clearer somehow. Colours
seemed that much more vibrant. Night was a chiaroscuro of dark
reds, dominated by Ail-Mazzoth’s brooding presence. Dawn brought
Ail-Gan’s bright yellow orb, washing out the reds and painting the
clouds orange and the sky azure blue. Soon, Ail-Kar, the white sun,
would flash across the horizon, bringing everything into renewed
focus. It was as if the plains themselves were alive.

She looked down at a large blue
flower near her boot. Her fingers reached out and brushed against
the petals. She watched as the flower unfurled its petals slowly
and a horde of tiny yellow insects scuttled out and dispersed
across the ground. The flower gradually closed up once
again.

She raised her head and her eyes
took in the vista before her. Across the golden prairie, she could
see a large herd on the move–dagan or raleketh, or maybe even wild
graylesh; it was hard to tell from this distance. There was game
aplenty here; whatever else, they would not starve. Travelling
through the desert had meant short rations; not because there was
any shortage in the food they were carrying, but because food
increased thirst. Now there was no need for such restrictions.
Keris’ mouth salivated at the thought of fresh raleketh steaks with
moba root. She would have to speak to Lyall about getting their
group together to do a little hunting.

Aside from the fact that they
needed the energy, it would also be an excellent way for them to
hone their skills for whatever lay ahead. Lyall had told her that
he had been training Shann, and that she showed exceptional
aptitude in both the cloak and the staff. He seemed in earnest, but
Keris was sceptical. It took many months of instruction and
practice to become proficient in Keltar arts.

It was apparent that the girl did
not like her. However, that was to be expected. She recalled the
fair-haired girl in the cart on the road from Chalimar. Keltar had
a reputation for enforcing the will of the Prophet, which was
increasingly being accompanied by brutality. Keris was no longer
Keltar. However, some were not going to be appeased with a mere
loaf of flatbread.

Still, the girl did not have to
like her in order for them to work together. And in the end, that
was all that mattered.