The Broken World Book One - Children of Another God (18 page)

"Because you've
lost the ability to command the world. Your people came to rely on
your hands and brains, and gave up the power over the
elements."

Talsy frowned.
"Could we ever get it back?"

"No. It's lost
to you forever because you don't understand it anymore, and it
can't be taught."

"Well, unlike
those envious bastards who tortured you, I respect your
abilities."

Chanter sighed
and leant on the railing. "They're ignorant. It's not their fault.
They've strayed far from their world and the protection and
guidance of their god. You, perhaps, have accepted this world
better than they."

Talsy studied
the Hashon Jahar, who remained immobile in their orderly ranks, as
if they would stay like that forever. Their armour glinted in the
flames' blue light, and the heat shimmer distorted their forms so
she could not make out their faces.

She looked at
Chanter. "How long do you think they'll wait?"

He shrugged.
"Who knows?"

"Couldn't
you... frighten them away?"

"I granted
protection, nothing more."

Talsy nodded.
"But you could do more, couldn't you? You could make the earth
swallow them, for instance. After all, if they can't die, you
wouldn't be killing."

"Could you
throw a Mujar into a Pit?"

"No! Of course
not!"

Chanter smiled.
"Yet he wouldn't die. So I can't make the earth swallow them.
There's no need."

"But Mujar are
good, harmless people. These are murderers, destroyers."

He shook his
head. "That's not for us to judge. We're not gods."

"I would say it
was pretty self-evident. You don't need to be a god to know what
they've done."

"But you don't
know why they did it."

She frowned.
"You know why they do it, don't you? You know what they are, too,
so why won't you tell me?"

"I can't." He
turned away. "Maybe someday I'll be able to, but not now."

A scowling
servant served them lunch, and they spent the rest of the day
resting as music and laughter wafted up from the streets below.
Talsy took advantage of their inactivity and seclusion to ask
Chanter about Mujar, but, while he would not impart any further
information on that subject, he did speak freely about his life
with the hill clan. She found his reticence frustrating, but told
herself that he must have his reasons. That, plus the ease with
which he was able to save the city, gave her a little insight into
the reasons why Truemen hated Mujar. It did seem cruel and unfair
to deny aid that was so easily given, but again she rebuked
herself. He must have at least one excellent reason, and she was
determined to discover what it was. Until then, she decided, she
would not judge him.

When dusk fell,
the city quieted as weary revellers retired, safe within the hated
Mujar's protection. After dark, the sheet of flame lighted the
countryside with leaping blue radiance. A low bank of cloud
reflected it, and glinting armour moved in the darkness beyond. The
light threw deep shadows into the streets, outshining the few dim
lamps. The fiery wall was like a scene from Hell. It drowned out
the moonlight and made the world seem darker.

Chanter lay
with her until she fell asleep, but she woke later, cold and alone.
He stood by the railing, staring at the fire wall.

Talsy rose and
joined him. "What's wrong?"

"The Hashon
Jahar tried to cross the river beyond the barrier."

Talsy followed
his gaze. The fire crossed the river upstream, extending the wall
to the far bank. It roared from the water, sending up clouds of
steam. The Black Riders milled on the bank, their steeds plunging
and wheeling away from the flames. Talsy glanced at the Mujar, who
watched them with narrowed eyes that glowed in the flames'
light.

"What if they
try to swim under the fire?" she asked.

"They won't.
The barrier extends below the surface."

"Fire under the
water?"

He smiled. "No,
ice."

"But how can
the river flow?"

"It's not a
solid wall. The water can pass through it, but not men."

She gazed at
the Black Riders. "If they can't die, why don't they just walk
through the fire?"

"They can be
harmed, and they would be so badly burnt that they would not be
able to fight once they got through it. And if they did get
through, I would raise a wall of ice within the circle. Then, if
they had the strength to smash their way through several feet of
ice and tried, I would thicken the wall. If they somehow got
through the ice, I would raise a wall of rock. They can't win, and
they know it. No one can defy the will of a Mujar except another,
and if two of us had to fight, which we never would, we would tear
the world apart."

Talsy nodded,
reassured. "So they thought they could sneak past while you were
asleep?"

"It seems so,
but Mujar don't need to sleep. They know that, but if they thought
me inattentive, they were wrong."

They waited
until the Hashon Jahar returned to the fields, where they settled
once more. Chanter lay with her until morning, when the servant
brought them breakfast. Beyond the fire wall, the Riders had
dismounted and stood or sat in groups, their steeds lying on the
ploughed ground. Evidently they had settled down for a long wait,
but showed no signs of setting up camp, and their horses carried
only saddles and armour. They remained mostly motionless and
utterly silent, as if dozing. Talsy squinted at them through the
fire wall's heat shimmer, but they were too distant and distorted
to see clearly.

Talsy spent the
morning alone with Chanter, but at lunchtime Tranton came to ask
why the fire wall now crossed the river. Talsy told him, and he
left to inform the governor. In the city below, life seemed to have
returned to normal, apart from the queues of people still climbing
the wall to gaze at the fire wall. The bridges groaned under the
crowds that came to see the fire that crossed the river, often
hidden behind clouds of billowing steam. The day passed
uneventfully, as did the night.

In the
afternoon of the second day, Talsy decided to go down into the city
to buy the supplies they would need to continue their journey,
replacing what she had lost. A guard accompanied her, walking
behind with a spear at the ready. The people's hostility amazed
her, for their hatred seemed to have grown. Many spat at her and
shouted insults, their faces twisted with hate. The guardsman was
forced to shake his spear many times to keep them at bay. Talsy's
anger grew at their ingratitude, and she longed to shout back that
they owed their lives to a Mujar, and should be grateful. She knew
it would be futile, however, and her shopping was fraught with
problems. Many shopkeepers refused to serve her until the soldier
made them, and others closed their shops when they saw her
coming.

At the
armourer, a stony-eyed man glared at her. She asked for a good
hunting knife, and he produced a poor rusty thing. A passer-by
paused to spit on the street beside her.

"Mujar
whore!"

The guard
raised his spear, and the man walked off.

Talsy turned
back to the armourer. "I want a good knife, not a piece of rubbish.
I have silver."

The blacksmith
shrugged. "We're all out."

Boxes of knives
glinted behind a bead curtain, and she restrained her anger with an
effort. "Then I'd like to order one made."

"We're too
busy. We have to make swords to fight the Black Riders when the
yellow filth leaves."

"Be glad that
the yellow filth is even buying you the time to make them," she
snarled.

The armourer
turned away. "I don't have to listen to you, Mujar slut. Go back to
your scum lover."

Talsy wanted to
leap over the counter and throttle him. As she was about to turn
away, another man appeared through the curtains. He had a
well-trimmed grey beard; his face burnt deep brown from years
working near a furnace. He raised an enquiring brow at the younger
man.

"What's going
on, Ranar?"

"It's the Mujar
bitch from the tower."

"Ah." The older
man looked at Talsy with twinkling grey eyes. "How can we help
you?"

"Father!" Ranar
protested.

His father held
up a hand. "Business is business, son."

"I want a good
hunting knife," Talsy repeated.

"Certainly."
The old man disappeared through the curtains and returned with a
shiny, skilfully made hunting knife. He gave it to Talsy, who
studied it with delight.

"This is
beautiful."

"We take pride
in our work."

"How much?"

The old man
glanced around. His son had vanished into the furnace room and the
guard had his back to them, watching the crowd. He leant closer.
"Is he watching?"

"Who? Oh, yes,
probably." She had no idea if Chanter was watching, and doubted it,
since she was far from the tower, but saw no harm in making him
seem more powerful than he was. The man's suggestion made her
wonder if Mujar could see around corners and through buildings. She
resolved to ask him when she got back to the tower.

The armourer
said, "Good. It's yours, miss. I'll take no silver for it. I want
him to know that at least one person in this blighted city has some
gratitude."

Her spirits
lifted, and she smiled. "I'm glad."

He nodded. "He
won't care, I know. Mujar live by their own rules, but I think he
deserves our gratitude anyway."

"Thank
you."

The armourer
smiled as she tucked the knife into her belt and headed back to the
tower. The old man's kindness filled her with a happy glow that
sustained her all the way back, buffering her against the insults
of the rest of the populace.

Talsy emerged
through the trap door and stopped in surprise, her mouth dropping
open. Chanter lay on his back on the pallet, smiling, his hands
raised to guide the tiny flames that danced around them. With slow
finger movements, he caused the flames to leap and swirl, spin away
in little balls of fire and return as sparks. He weaved a pattern
in the air, and it joined the fiery ballet. He drew a burning face,
and Talsy recognised herself.

"Like it?" he
asked.

She smiled.
"Playing with fire?"

The Mujar
chuckled. "I can."

"You can't get
burnt?"

Chanter
dispersed the fire with a wave and sat up. "Of course not."

She dumped the
bag and joined him on the pallet. "Then how can anything harm
you?"

"Only Dolana
can. I told you it's an unfriendly Power. Anything made of the
earth, like metal, wood or glass can harm me. Fire, water and air
cannot."

"You mean, you
could walk through that wall of flame out there unscathed?"

"Naturally.
It's one of my elements."

She shook her
head in confusion. "But they all are. You're made of earth, so how
can it harm you when the others can't?"

"Wrong. We're
mostly water, not earth. That's why Shissar has the power to
heal."

"Yet Dolana
rules the creatures of the earth."

"Yes, because
we live on the earth. It feeds and clothes us. We are made from it
also, just as birds are, yet Ashmar rules them. Almost every living
thing contains the four elements, although plants don't have
Crayash, and nor do some animals."

She sighed. "I
doubt I'll ever fully understand it."

"You don't need
to. Did you get all the supplies?"

Talsy pulled a
face. "With some difficulty. Were you watching?"

"Watching? How
could I? You disappeared amongst the buildings."

"So you can't
see through things."

"No." He
grinned. "Did you think I could?"

"The armourer
did."

"Ah. Trueman
superstitions. They also think we can read their minds and give
them nightmares."

She took out
the knife and showed it to him. "The armourer gave me this. He said
he was grateful for your help."

"Ah." The Mujar
seemed unimpressed.

"At least
there's one good person in this city."

He shrugged.
"Good, bad. Who's to judge? Most are simply confused."

Talsy rose to
gaze at the fire wall and the Black Riders beyond it. Dusk sent
dark fingers across the land as the sinking sun cast shadows from
distant mountains. Tomorrow was the last day of Chanter's
protection, and the Hashon Jahar showed no signs of moving on.
There would be trouble when the time came to remove the fire, if
the Black Riders were still there. She wondered what Jashon and
Cusak would do to try to prevent the fire wall from falling.
Nothing would stop it, she was sure, but she feared that Chanter
might fall prey to these hateful men again. His suffering at their
hands would be brief, for the Hashon Jahar would soon overrun the
city, but they were not friends of Mujar either.

Talsy turned to
find Chanter playing with fire again, smiling with childlike
delight. She approached him. "Why was there no manifestation of
fire to make those flames?"

He glanced up
at her. "Because I already control fire."

"What do you
mean?"

"When I
relinquish control, the fire wall will fall. Until then, I have no
need to summon it."

Talsy watched
with deep fascination as he played with the fire, a pastime he gave
up when the servant arrived with their supper. She marvelled at the
simplicity of a man who found food more interesting than the
amazing powers he wielded. Then again, he had always had them, so
their novelty had undoubtedly worn off long ago. She wondered why
he refused to answer some of her questions, while other things he
explained without hesitation. Certain subjects, it appeared, were
taboo. He was far more reticent and withdrawn in the company of
other Truemen, losing the easy-going camaraderie he shared with her
when they were alone. She did not blame him for being shy of these
people, whose hatred shone in their eyes.