Strange Land (The Young Ancients Book 15) (3 page)

No one answered her, but they didn't wet themselves either. That was actually better than Sara had figured on, from what she'd been hearing over the last months. There were some big eyes still, and a little shaking, as Roget touched the large cream colored building on the side. This caused a stream of water from the ocean to fly to it. It was a pure line of fluid that looked very even and regular as it moved. A translucent line of life.

Then the little man moved with confidence to another of the sigils and touched it.

"This one will turn what is put into the machine into bread. There are almost two hundred things that can be made. All good and wholesome. Watch." Touching the silver and blue glow, his fingers almost caressing the magical construct, he waited. Not too long however.

Then, moving quickly, his nerve seeming to finally break a bit, Roget moved to the back and started pulling out armloads of fresh looking loaves.

"Take them. Eat. I swear to you, it is only food. Nutritious and filling. Enough for all, if you decide to take the blessing that He is offering you. Please, eat. The rest of us shall pray that you consider our offer."

There was a glance at her, as if
she
were going to say it was a bad idea? She'd spent over an hour on her knees already since they'd gotten there.

No one had even suggested she do anything for them personally while she was down there. If she'd been in Noram it would have happened. Even if only as a joke, said by a friend. These people just looked away from her, embarrassed for her, it seemed.

Sara could eat humiliating herself if it was needed to make this work.

As she sunk to her knees, she saw the brilliance of Roget's words. These people were
trapped
by their own beliefs. Now that it was being presented to them as being a gift from their own god, they
had
to eat the food.

Maybe they even had to help spread things from there? It was a lot to hope for, but they were clearly desperate.

Starving in some cases.

They nearly fell on the loaves of crusty and soft bread, looking as greedy as any group that she'd ever seen. Still, they didn't start tearing chunks of bread off right away. They each held a single loaf, and then waited, looking at the Day Leader.

Who knelt again, to pray before eating. Even as he clearly was close to passing out from hunger, having food so near.

"Praised be the All High! Let us all be thankful for this bounty, which has come to us from him." He faltered then, tears in his eyes.

Sara knew that it was a risk, but everything was, so she spoke, letting her voice carry a bit.

"We, those from my crew, shall pray
for
you, so that you may eat, and be reminded of His...
Grace
." She thought that was right.

Sam, the Vagus born sailor, his clothing still bright and cheery, being made of magic as it was, moved in next to her.

In horribly thick Tellerand, he spoke a few words.

"Praised be." Then in Vagish he started to... Pray. She caught enough of it to understand that he was using the right words. It was in the wrong language, but he was doing his part for real, wasn't he?

She smiled a bit.

"Yes. Praised be the All High for what he brings these people. All thanks are to Him."

Roget finally took over, with tears in his own eyes. By the end of the meal, which wasn't that much food, the youngest woman got sick, not being used to having that much at once. A few of the others seemed ready to have the same trouble. It was a thing that could happen when you were that unused to food.

"Ah!" She started to cry, looking at the returned bread on the sand. Fear in her eyes. "I mean no offense. Your food,
His
food... I... I feel shame. I..."

Sara shrugged.

"Perhaps some soup? Something to settle your stomach?" She jumped up to make it herself, having to borrow a metal mug to put it in. That being the only thing in the hopper to catch the vegetable soup she made, touching the correct sigil which proclaimed what it was clearly enough in all four languages, she passed it over.

That got envious looks from some of the others, but no one asked for anything else for themselves. Even though it would be virtually free to make.

Their saint, the woman in brown, stood though, and walked over to the device, looking at the side of it carefully.

"I... If I use the saint's power, and touch one of these?" Her voice was scared sounding, but Sara got the idea.

"That's correct. It will make what it says.
Only
a saint can make the device work. Will you be in charge of this for us here?" She saw the woman's face go hard, and wondered if she might refuse to do it. Even if doing it meant having unlimited food all the time.

It was probably the glaring from the others that did it.

Laroque laughed and shook his head at them, his voice going gruff and nearly mean.

"
Fools
! You fear this new thing, claiming it magic because some outlanders don't have the proper word for
miracle
? You
dare
to look at a saint like that? I demand that you correct yourselves in His eyes right now. This girl was sent to you by His hand directly! Honor her." The part where he added, or
I'll cut you
, wasn't said.

It didn't seem to be needed.

The Day Leader looked at the woman in brown instead, and managed a weak looking smile.

"I fear that this new man is correct, Mara. We've feared you, when we should have given you honors in his name. If you will take this duty, I promise that we shall treat you as one of us again."

Roget seemed oddly pleased to hear that, but the woman, Mara, still looked down at the sand. Her face was sad, as if she'd heard similar things before. Given what Sara had heard about how the saints had been treated, it was probably just the truth. A lot of them had escaped, to Harmony and even Noram, to get away from the disdain of their own people.

The fact was though that either this woman, or someone very like her, did the work, or they brought someone in from another land. Most of the world's people could summon the will to make magic work, it was simply that these people had a mental block in that regard, not wanting to be evil. That was the idea, as far as she'd heard. Those that could work past that had been given the title of saint, by the now dead Ancient of that land. Black.
Required
to use their power to aid others.

Unfortunately, the people or Tellerand were
good
at being a bit slow to adapt.

Mara sighed.

"I shall serve as He desires. Always. I am but His vessel."

Which apparently was the right thing to say. Even if it didn't give the woman a lot of personal choice in the matter. Then, who really ever had that? Sara was there because King Richard had told her to stay close to Tor, when you got down to it. That his little brother Terry was smart enough to work out a possible way to get around the beliefs of this place using her was just a side-effect of that. Happenstance nearly.

Her job was to go, and do, as her King bid. For Mara it was all about what her god ordered. The only real difference was that her god didn't speak to anyone directly, so other people got to make up what they figured was needed. It didn't seem to work as smoothly as a system really. A good King could get things done a lot faster than an imaginary being that couldn't correct mistakes.

It was a start though.

"That works. We should get all the people that you have that can work a magical device out here and start making food for everyone. If you bring boxes, pots and pans... Bags too. Anything that can carry things? We can probably make sure that everyone has enough food for a few weeks inside a half day. The devices can become bigger and make more, at need. We've brought many of them too." That, if anyone went for it, would get exactly
one
small coastal village into play.

Even after so many had died, the land held millions.

Mara, for all she didn't turn to look at anyone else from her own home, got right to work. Her hands might have touched the sigils tensely, but her will was good enough to make what was needed appear in the hopper at the back of the large device.

Roget stayed away from her, Sara noticed.

It was a subtle thing, but he moved in with the rest of the men from Tellerand from her crew, making a little clutch of five people. Half of the working bodies had stayed on the ship, since they didn't need them all just for this. Still, it seemed a little strange, since both Mara and Roget were saints. That meant they'd be roughly equal in station didn't it? Both half cast out into the world? Shunned? She would have thought that her
friend
, Roget, would have moved in to support her himself.

It wasn't until ten minutes later that the man came over and simply explained in a low voice. Probably because she'd been looking between him and Mara for several minutes.

"The sailors and I are all unclean. Not
tainted
, thank the All High, but if we approach a woman of good standing too closely it might make her seem... Wanton or lacking in virtue. That's very important here. What Des Laroque said of you to these assembled, that you were willing to be tainted by them in order to see them fed... That was what did it. Then praying with us, asking for
blessing
to be accepted." He nearly froze then, tears in his eyes. Looking out over the slate gray water, the clouds seeming to threaten rain, the smaller man shook his head. Just a tiny bit.

When he spoke, his words were strong and nearly rang out compared to what he'd practically whispered the moment before.

"This is but one small hamlet however. If we are to make this be enough for all, we need to all be willing to do whatever is required of us. To lose our dignity. To give our very lives so that others may live. To dress in sackcloth, and place ashes over our brow in humility as we serve. We should leave now. To see to all His children." There was no sense that he was playing.

Sara thought for a bit, then gave a nod.

"We need to leave the ship manned. Laroque, you're in charge of that. Try not to stab anyone if you can help it. I'm taking the healing amulet with me. Roget and I shall do as he said and seek out those that need the..." She paused, then lied. It was part of how she'd been trained, so it was done nearly seamlessly. As if she merely forgot the words in a new language. "The gifts that the All High has commanded us to bring them."

Shrugging, she focused, and made her magical clothing shift. Oddly enough, most of the people didn't seem to really notice her doing it. They were busy, true, but even the few that looked at her directly didn't really get it. She went from a simple tunic and trousers to a rough burlap bag. One that looked like there was a hole in the top for her head to stick through. Her arms through similar holes in the sides, leaving them bare. It was probably scandalous, but no one seemed to care about that either.

No one reacted to her in any way, even as she borrowed a silver metal cup that was made of tin and grabbed some sea water, then used some ash from the wood fire to make a dark paste.

Not knowing the method used by these people, Sara improvised and simply smeared a single handful across her brow. She could do the whole face later, if Roget did. Otherwise she was just as happy not doing that, if it was all the same. There was sand in the ash mix, and it wasn't smooth against the flesh. It would also be irritating as it dried. Which given the itchy clothing she had on was probably the point. It was a way for her to show that she wasn't important. That only what she was doing was? Hopefully that was the case.

Her feet and lower legs were bare, shaved smooth, since that was the custom at home. Women, and some men of a certain station, made sure that they didn't have offensive body hair that could show if they were nude in public. The younger woman looked at her legs closely.

It was enough that one of the other women scolded her for it.

"Addie! It's rude to watch a person too closely like that. You know better. Especially after what happened earlier." This came from a woman that looked to be about thirty through the face, but had heavy eyebrows, and a bit of hair on her upper lip. Back home women would have taken care of that kind of thing. At least the ones in the big cities. The country folk were a little less particular that way, which could be what was going on here.

This place wasn't huge. It never had been, at a guess.

Now it was pretty clear that the nearly twenty people on the beach were about half the little village's population. The rest were children, at a guess. Not that anyone told her this, but a few of the women were worried that Elise might have problems with all the little ones alone.

It was telling.

So were the horrified stares that she was being given.

Roget took a very deep breath, taking in the sea air, which was fresh, if a bit ripe, even after all the storms.

"Yes. I shall do the same, Captain Debri."

His version took less time, and his clothing was nicer in the end. Not that it wasn't magic too, but he had a much softer looking outfit on, if torn in places. It was all a smudged white tunic, and trousers. Then he decorated his forehead with a bit of ash. It was
clearly
a half measure, compared to what she'd done.

To her surprise Mara, the saint, was the one that went next, wearing the same outfit, but decorating her face too.

"We will go now and see that everyone is blessed by this bounty from above."

That got the head man, the Day Leader, to shake his head. His voice was a bit sorrow filled, but his words still managed to be pompous at the same time. At least to Sara. No one else seemed to notice it.

"Nay, girl. You are to stay here, and do your duty as a... saint." There was a direct and somewhat angry glance toward Mara. No one else could hope to run the device that had appeared, after all.

The woman looked down, then back at the food device, which still had water flowing to it. Without waiting she started to make food, creating flour, sugar and a variety of fresh fruits and meats. Mainly mutton.