Motherstone (16 page)

They flew on over the forest, and far away he saw the sun flashing on the sea, turning it white. It seemed as empty as the sky. Somewhere out there Susan was making her way south to the Motherstone. What was the task she had to do there? He was frightened to guess. Whatever it was had almost been too much for her to bear learning about.

‘There, on the river, Kenno’s army,’ Yellowclaw cried.

It was crossing a ford. The green river turned yellow downstream. The Weapon-cart was halfway over, with water foaming against the wheels. The oxen strained and bellowed – a team of twenty – whips cracked, men leaned their shoulders to the wheels, others hauled on ropes, and slowly, slowly, the cart made the crossing, turning its nose slightly to the current. The Weapon sat with the weight of lead. It was less fearsome-looking than Osro’s. It was like a fort of logs, with here and there a plating of polished ox-hide fastened with rivets. On top was a pill-box, a truncated cone. But the nozzle poking out was the same: silver, snout-like. And the fire would be no different – a fire that would kill O. Like Osro’s, this Weapon had a roof: a gable of split logs set high on poles. It seemed Kenno too feared the Birdfolk.

The army was smaller than Osro’s; about ten thousand men to his thirty. They were armed with swords and spears and bows, and some wore body-armour of hide or metal. Nick could not believe they would match the Hotlanders.

The command tent was pitched upstream from the ford. There a dozen men sat on stools and studied maps spread on the ground. They stared up as the lookouts spotted the Birdfolk. Soldiers ran to guard them, setting arrows in their bows.

‘Freemen,’ Yellowclaw cried, ‘do not shoot. We bring you news of Osro’s army.’

‘I can’t see Kenno there,’ Nick said. As they circled closer he made out the fat townsman who had been chief councillor. He wore armour of grey metal, decorated with gold. A helmet plumed with feathers lay on his knees. He made a sign and the bowmen lowered their weapons. A man at his side, a big fellow with a torso like a sea-chest, bellowed, ‘Birdfolk, land and speak. You are welcome.’

They landed by the river and climbed to the tent. Soldiers made an escort. They walked with swords drawn and Nick knew it was not ceremony. He still could not see Kenno, but the thin ex-priest was beside the fat man, and he saw with horror that he wore bones about his neck.

‘I am Yellowclaw,’ the Birdman said. ‘Where is Kenno? Nicholas Quinn must speak with him.’

The fat man stood up and put the helmet on his head. He looked like someone setting off for a fancy dress party. But there was nothing comic about his face. ‘I know you, Bird. I know the boy. You will speak with deference here. I am Widd, Marshal of the Army of Freemen.’

‘Where is Kenno?’

‘He is about, somewhere. It does not matter. I command the army. Make your report.’

‘I will report to Kenno. No one else.’

‘You will do as I order, Bird. Speak out.’

The soldiers stepped closer; and the ex-priest leaned forward and fingered his bones. Yellowclaw stood very still. It seemed he would leap at Widd. Then he sighed.

‘Very well. Yesterday we flew over Osro’s army. They tried to burn us with their Weapon, but we escaped. They have many warriors, Widd. Enough to make three armies the size of yours.’

‘Where are they?’

‘North. Eight days at the pace you march. Their way will bring them down the upland plateau by the mountains – you have it on your map. Four days’ marching will take you there.’

The officers showed Widd the place. He looked at it, pulling his lower lip, then said to Yellowclaw, ‘The warriors, what are they?’

‘Hotlanders.’

‘How armed?’

‘Spears.’

‘Our bowmen will make short work of them.’

Yellowclaw shook his head. ‘Hotlanders can see arrows in their flight. They pick them out of the air with their shields.’

‘Impossible.’

‘I have seen it. But none of this matters. Osro has the Weapon.’

‘Ah, the Weapon. We have seen his smoke far in the north. It does not tower as high as ours. Our Weapon is better.’

Yellowclaw looked at him flatly. ‘Worse,’ he said.

‘How? That cannot be. These Hotlanders are primitive. They cannot make a weapon to equal ours.’

‘Osro made it. And I tell you this, their Weapon is better – if I can say better of something evil. Yours is fixed in its turret. Osro’s turns this way and that. It points at the sky. He can aim it anywhere.’

The officers fell to whispering; and the ex-priest – Stilgo was his name – sprang forward. ‘Lies, Bird. These vermin of the north cannot match our science.’

Yellowclaw looked him up and down. ‘You call us vermin too, and we can fly, but you cannot. And you forget, bone-wearer, Osro was a priest, like you.’

‘Enough,’ Widd said, ‘it does not matter. We have this knowledge now, and we shall ambush them. We shall burn their Weapon before it can fire.’

‘No,’ Nick cried; but Yellowclaw put his wing out and silenced him.

‘You will listen now to Nicholas Quinn. He has things to say about this Weapon that you must hear.’

‘Children are not heard,’ Stilgo cried. His little poisonous eyes burned at Nick. ‘Children have no voice in our counsels.’

‘He’s not a child,’ Yellowclaw said. ‘He’s done more in his life than a dozen men. And you – will – listen.’

‘But first,’ Nick said … He could not bear the sight of the ex-priest any longer. Revulsion overcame him. It seemed that all Susan had done was denied in this man. There he stood, poisonous and evil, with human bones strung about his neck. Nick took one step forward. He seized the thong that held the bones and jerked it down with all his strength. The force of it dragged Stilgo to his knees. Then the thong snapped, and Nick held up the bones and shouted, ‘You are free men. Susan ended the rule of the priests. But still you let them wear human bones.’ He flung them away over the guards. ‘While you have this Stilgo and this Widd you are slaves.’

For a moment no one spoke. Then Stilgo climbed to his feet. His face was grinning. ‘Enough, I think.’

‘Yes,’ Widd said, ‘more than enough. The boy is guilty of treason. Take him away, guards. Down by the river. Get rid of him. And kill these Bird vermin too. They are traitors.’

The guards moved, but a voice cried, ‘No!’ and Kenno broke into the circle, with Limpy beside him. They were muddy and wet from helping at the ford. Kenno put himself between Nick and the swords. ‘Stay back. Any who try to kill them must kill me.’ The guards hesitated, and Kenno went on, ‘I have listened – standing at the back there, I listened. Nick did well to tear off Stilgo’s bones. He would not have worn them if I had been here. We got rid of Ferris bones with the Temple. Any who wear them betray our revolution.’

‘Kenno,’ Widd cried, ‘I command here. I am Marshal. And I have ordered death for these traitors.’

Kenno faced him. ‘Then kill me first.’

Widd’s eyes showed his desire to do it. He would order Kenno’s death one day soon – but not now, the time was not now. Kenno saw it. Softly he said, ‘You command the army. But I lead the state – for a short time yet. These – ’ he flung his arm out – ‘are my friends. Friends of O. Our debt to them can never be paid. And when they wish to speak, then they speak. So – ’ deliberately he turned his back on Widd – ‘let us hear your message, Nicholas Quinn.’

Nick told it, fast and sure. When he spoke the name of Freeman Wells, Stilgo cried out. Kenno silenced him. When he warned of the death of O some of the officers trembled, but Widd only laughed – and Kenno silenced him too.

‘That’s all,’ Nick said. ‘That’s what I came to tell you. If you fight, O will die.’

‘And if we don’t, Nick,’ Kenno said, ‘Osro will rule. We’ll be slaves.’

‘I think you’ll be slaves anyway.’

‘Perhaps we will. But will Osro even spare our lives?’

‘He sent a message. Leave your Weapon. Turn back to your homes – and he will consider letting you live.’

‘You have spoken with him?’ Stilgo cried. ‘This boy has spoken with Osro. That is treason.’

‘We called from the sky. We gave him the warning we give you. That was his answer.’

‘It is treason.’

Widd spoke smoothly, ‘It is lies. The whole thing is a plot to make us weak. There is no Freeman Wells, there never was. He is a myth – ’

‘That’s what Osro said. There’s nothing to choose between you.’

‘– and this girl Susan Ferris, she has interfered too often. Go back to her. Tell her to leave O. If we see her again, or see you, we will carry out our sentence of death.’

‘Listen, please – ’

‘Silence, boy. We are the Freemen. I am Marshal. I shall lead my army north and destroy Osro. I will burn his Weapon. And we shall rule O. We shall bring peace and freedom to the lands of the north. And east, and south. Humans are the ruling kind, and we shall rule. We shall civilize, we shall teach our ways – ’

‘And get rich. You’re worse than Osro. He doesn’t pretend to do it for anyone but himself.’

‘I’m a patient man. I give you one minute to leave my camp. Take your Birds and go. I will turn my back. If you are standing there when I look round, my guards will have your head off.’ He looked at Kenno in challenge, and turned away – a fat man in absurd clothes, but a man of power.

Kenno said, ‘Go, Nick. I believe you. I’ll do what I can.’ His eyes were dark and empty. There was nothing he could do. Nick raised his hand. He felt he was saying goodbye to all that was good remaining in Freemen. He turned and broke through the guards and the Birdfolk followed. They climbed a hill away from the camp and stood on the summit. Snowflier and Sundercloud spread the sling.

‘Here comes Limpy.’

The fisherboy ran up the hill. ‘Nick,’ he panted, ‘is Soona still with you?’

‘Yes,’ Nick said.

‘Give her my love. And my father’s.’ The arrogant proud Limpy was gone. This boy was frightened. He looked back fearfully as he spoke. ‘They will murder him soon. He knows it. So do I. We should have stayed in Stonehaven with my mother.’ He blinked. ‘They will murder me too.’

‘Come with us, Limpy. The Birds can carry two.’

‘No. I must stay with him. He can’t believe everything has failed. They call themselves Freemen but they are Widd’s slaves and Stilgo’s slaves. My father won’t give up. He’ll fight till the end.’

Nick said sadly, ‘It’s not that sort of fight any more. It’s a fight to save O. But good luck, Limpy. I’ll give Soona your love. Tell your father she and Susan might still be able to do something. Freeman Wells told them a way.’ He did not say it was terrible. Limpy had enough to worry about.

He climbed into the sling. The Birdfolk lifted him, and the boy on the hilltop fell away. Down by the river, Kenno stood alone. The men by the tent had their maps spread out again.

Late in the afternoon, from a hilltop by the sea, Nick saw two towers of smoke far inland. They were many kilometres apart, but their heads seemed to lean and touch each other.

The island had not changed in a hundred turns. The beach shone yellow in the afternoon sun as the seals brought the barge in. The bow grated on the sand at the spot where Susan had landed from her glider long ago. She jumped down and walked to the cliff, with Thief at her side. Here, on this warm sand, she had slept. And drunk from a tiny fresh-water spring – she found it again. And peered at the land from the top of the island, making out low buildings in the smoke. No smoke now, and no buildings either. Jungle had swallowed them.

She looked further inland and saw the line of Sheercliff; and Wildwood north and west, climbing into the foothills of a mountain range. She knew this land. In a way it was her land. Back on Earth, it would stay with her for the rest of her life.

She looked down at the beach, where Jimmy and Dawn were bringing gear ashore. The Seafolk were cropping weed in the southern reef – where she had met Island Lover – and Ben and Bess were catching fish further out. She could not see Soona, but heard her flute. She was somewhere under the cliff, and no doubt Aenlocht with her. They were never more than a step apart, tied by the knowledge of what they must do. They were like lovers and scarcely took their eyes off each other. And perhaps there was hatred in it too, for Soona was right; they must do terrible damage to each other. To themselves. And she, Susan Ferris, must help them do it.

Guiltily, as though submitting to some drug, she fumbled at her throat and drew a little cloth bag from her shirt. She loosened the draw-string and tipped Halves on her palm. They gave her no shock, they were not alive, or not awake; they were sleeping in a death-like sleep that Nick would have a term for – suspended animation? But their perfection made her gasp. She did not know whether it was beauty or strength, form or colour, harmony or line – all of those. They were two and one. They were Humankind. The knowledge of what she held made her tremble. New Halves for old. Changed Halves for those that had done their work too well, and not well enough. In weight, perfectly even. In age – not yet born. A second chance. She closed her hand and held it still. She must not think about it, she must not let her mind run away. See them as ornaments, she said, a pair of ear-rings, a couple of pendants. They would look marvellous dangling from someone’s ears. From Soona’s ears. The thought made her tremble again. She opened her fingers. Pale amber and plum-red. Tear-drops bending into one another – that perfect shape. And each with its flaw that was no flaw. Her mind started going off again, and she pushed the Halves into their bag and thrust them back beneath her shirt.

Soona’s flute had stopped. She and Aenlocht stood out on the sand, looking up at her. They knew what she had been doing. She raised her hand apologetically. Thief butted her thigh. He wanted to go down. He was not happy now unless he had his three charges together.

She climbed down to the reef and crossed the sand. ‘How long must we stay here, Susan?’ Soona asked.

‘Until morning. The Seafolk say the river is silting up. They can’t take us up in the dark. And I told Nick I’d wait. I want to hear about Osro and Kenno.’

‘They will not listen. Even my father. When will he get here?’