The Gods and their Machines (14 page)

They walked for some time, skirting the far edge of the copse of fir trees and following the rim of a vast quarry, whose granite walls bore the scars of explosives and heavy machinery. Riadni did not speak, and Chamus let her be, walking behind her so that she could grieve in peace. Instead, he used the time to take in the country around him, admiring the dramatic forests and steep, spilling slopes and noting the damage that had been done by mining and timber operations. The wild landscape was marred in every
direction
by swathes of cleared forest and deep quarries and open strips cut into the hills. He knew heavy rain would
widen those scars and wash away precious soil and he
wondered
how much of this had been done by Altiman
companies
who had left without cleaning up their messes.

They walked a trail of dry mud that had been baked hard in the summer sun and left little or no sign that they had passed that way. Every now and then, Chamus turned to study the land behind them, but could see nobody. Riadni’s decision to cut the ropes on the ferry had been smart, it must have slowed them down, having to find another place to cross, but they would have heard the pistol shot, and sooner or later they would find Rumbler’s body and know that their prey was now on foot.

A few times during the day he saw aircraft – two airships, probably carrying tourists out to see the wilds of Bartokhrin from a safe height, and a flight of five fighters, making a patrol. None of them was close enough to try getting their attention. It was frustrating, seeing his countrymen so close and yet so out of reach. He shifted the saddlebags over to the other shoulder, wishing he had a proper backpack and wondering if they could pick one up somewhere. But he did not relish the idea of stopping at another village.

Riadni hoped to find a stream to camp by for the night, but when the sun had dipped towards the horizon and they still had not come across one, they settled for a sheltered spot well clear of the trail, surrounded by blackberry and gorse bushes. The blackberries were still a pinkish red and not suitable to eat, so they used most of what was left of Riadni’s food, some pork and beef jerky, dried fruit and hard biscuit. It left them both thirsty, but they were careful not to use all of their water. A chill set in as the day faded, but Riadni
would still not risk a fire. There was nowhere to hang the parachute, so she rigged a tiny tent with her poncho and they took turns, one sleeping and one sitting up, keeping watch through the night.

Seven

L
akrem Elbeth walked around the biplane, his eyes absorbing details under the early morning sun, his mind deep in thought. The seven bodyguards stood back, watching him in silence. Some letters stencilled below the rim of the cockpit caught his eye and he leaned in closer. It read ‘C. Aranson’. A slow smile crept across Elbeth’s face. Truly, he thought, this is a gift from Shanna.

He issued instructions to the men around him, sending two off for tools and another to relay further instructions by radio to the other groups around the country. If Chamus Aranson were indeed the boy pilot that Riadni had found, then he would be a great prize. It was vital that he be found before he could reach the safety of Victovia, or one of its outposts. To possess that boy would be to control Thomex Aranson, and Thomex Aranson knew a great deal about the workings of the Altiman military. Elbeth closed his eyes to focus on this new development. Its potential was extraordinary; he must make the most of it. His eyes flicked open.

‘Baraya?’ he called to one of the remaining men.

‘Yes, Master Elbeth?’

‘The boy, Benyan Akhna, must be stopped. Inform Daruth.’

The bodyguard hesitated.

‘But he has had the Blessing, Master Elbeth,’ he ventured. ‘He won’t be held. The urge to find his targets will become too great.’

‘Then he must be killed, Baraya.’

‘At once, Master.’

Elbeth tilted his head to take one final look at the yellow biplane. It already had a fine layer of dust from the field upon its fuselage and wings. He would see every aeroplane reduced to this before the end of his life. Man should not play in the realm of the gods, to go where they might look into the eyes of Shanna herself. Shanna and her angels would see to it that those who did paid for their sins of
arrogance
. His bodyguards moved quickly to mount their horses as he climbed up into the saddle of his palomino mare. He grimaced, leaning on the pommel as he waited for the pain in his hips to ease. His arthritis was flaring up and it made riding uncomfortable. Elbeth checked around him, but his men were looking away, pretending not to notice his weakness.

‘Let’s go,’ he called. ‘I want to visit Mocranen before I return to the caves. I think he will help us find his daughter and her friend, with a little persuasion.’

The riders wheeled and set off in the direction of Riadni’s home.

Chamus woke up and stretched, his back stiff from the ride of the day before. He could see the light of day between his
feet, and smell the oiled leather of the poncho just above his face. Wriggling out of the little tent, he found Riadni
kneeling
with her hands covering her eyes. At first he thought she was crying, then he remembered that this was the position Shanneyans took when in prayer. He waited impatiently for her to finish. They needed to move on as soon as possible and prayers were not going to help against musket rounds or machetes.

Riadni heard him moving around, but did not open her eyes when she finished her prayer. She was embarrassed that he had seen her without make-up the day before and had taken care to apply it properly that morning. But she really wanted to be alone, or at least to be with someone who would understand what she had lost. This boy from another world was too alien for her; the money he promised meant nothing now that Rumbler was dead. She was alone, with nowhere to go and no friends to turn to. But there seemed to be no other choice. They were both running from the Hadram Cassal and he could help her if they escaped. So she opened her eyes and found Chamus waiting there with an open map on the ground before him.

‘Morning, how are you feeling?’ he asked, in his usual, over-familiar tone, and then, when she didn’t answer, added, ‘I reckon we should avoid any towns or villages from now on until we get to your cousins’. What do you think?’

Riadni glowered at him, the contempt in her eyes causing him to look away uncomfortably. It took her a while to
swallow
her distaste for his presence and work up the will to tolerate him once more. They had a breakfast of the
remaining
biscuit and some of the last of the water while they
planned their route. Riadni knew only parts of the land in this area and it took her a while to satisfy herself that she could find her way to Naranthium without using the main road. Chamus offered little in the way of advice and she was surprised at how readily he accepted what she said. All of the boys she knew would have scoffed at the idea of letting a girl plan a route. Perhaps Altimans were as soft as she had heard, perhaps he still relied too much on his mother, but the boy who had wielded the machete the day before had shown no sign of being such a milk baby.

Chamus adjusted the straps on the saddlebags, so that he could drape them over his shoulders, one on the front and one on the back. When he was ready, they started walking again. The chase of the day before had led them off course, out towards the west and now Riadni chose paths that would lead them back until they were parallel with the main road to Naranthium. Where possible, they kept to trails that offered the cover of trees or other features. Riadni set a hard pace, and it was nearly noon when they finally made a proper stop, finding a small stream winding across the trail that allowed them to fill the canteens and douse themselves in the cold, refreshing water. Chamus was tired, he was not used to such gruelling exercise and he was not wearing
suitable
shoes for the kind of terrain they were crossing. He had tied his leather flying jacket about his waist and now he cast it off with the saddlebags to allow as much air as possible to his overheating body. Leaning back on his elbows, he let his head hang back, so that he could stare at the sky.

‘I could have flown this distance in minutes,’ he muttered.

‘It’s a shame you let your aeroplane run out of fuel, then,’
Riadni sighed sourly. ‘You lot are great as long as you have your machines to do everything for you.’

‘Your lot will be doing exactly the same,’ Chamus retorted, ‘when your civilisation catches up.’

Riadni snorted.

‘Why do you think everyone wants to be like you? At least we aren’t helpless as babies without our tools. You must be pretty desperate to be relying on a girl to save you when your plane stops working.’

That last part didn’t come out as she intended and she saw Chamus smile.

‘Yeah,’ he grinned. ‘Things have just gone from bad to worse lately.’

Riadni looked away to hide her own smile. Chamus gulped down some water and lay back on the thin, dry grass.

‘Don’t you ever wish you could get out of this?’ he asked. ‘I mean, what do you want to do with yourself? You obviously don’t fit in, I could tell that from the first time I met you. Aren’t Bartokhrian women supposed to be seen and not heard? I thought they had to just serve the men and have babies.’

‘It’s not like that!’ Riadni snapped, then held her temper in check. ‘Under Shanneyan law, women have to be humble because they are made in the image of Shanna herself. Women are held to a higher standard than men. The man is given control because it is his responsibility to protect and provide for the family, but it is the woman who raises and teaches the children. She must obey her husband. But because she runs the home, she also has the greatest
influence
on the lives of the children and the future of the family.’

‘That sounds like you were taught to say it.’
‘That doesn’t mean it’s not true.’

‘But you’re not allowed to have jobs. Most of you don’t go to school. You’re not even allowed to choose your own
husband
,’ Chamus was determined to show her the error of her ways. ‘You have arranged marriages and …’

‘Of course our marriages are arranged!’ she argued. ‘For both men and women. Kin comes first, over everything. If I married badly, it would affect my whole family. We all live with each other and rely on each other. A marriage has to provide for children; it has to support parents in their old age. There are so many things that can go wrong, but men and women must marry young, while they’re strong and attractive, even though they don’t know enough about these things. You don’t marry a man; you marry his family and for the sake of everyone you love, you have to marry well.’

Riadni made an effort to calm herself down. She was sounding like her mother and it bothered her that she was making sense to herself. Chamus was sitting up, taking it all in. He had a large extended family of uncles, aunts and cousins, but he hardly knew most of them. They lived all over Altima, and he did not have to rely on any of them. The strength of family bonds simply wasn’t a matter of survival as it was in Bartokhrin. What she said was true. It just wasn’t necessary in Altima, where social welfare took the place of support from the family.

‘We’d better get moving,’ Riadni said finally. ‘We won’t reach Naranthium today, not on foot, and I want time this evening to find a place to camp near water.’

‘We could do with some food,’ Chamus added. ‘I’m starving.’

‘We’ll get some along the way,’ she told him.

Their route took them along a ridge, following the
contours
of a range of hills that allowed them to look down on the land below. She pointed out the line of white adobe buildings on the horizon that marked Naranthium, a good half day’s walk from the foot of the hills. As they walked, she showed Chamus how to identify mushrooms, which ones were edible, which ones were poisonous and which ones sent you mad. There were also fruits that could be picked, leaves for stewing and for soup and root vegetables that grew wild in the land around them. She also showed him how to find bird’s nests, explaining which eggs were best for eating and ensuring that they left a couple of eggs in each nest so that the bird would lay more there and not abandon the nest. A few times, Chamus went to refer to his survival handbook, but ended up just putting it away. Riadni wasn’t surviving; she was gathering supper. They walked on, and Chamus’s stomach rumbled at the thought of the food. But as the light began to fade, his bowels also started to vie for his attention. He needed the privacy of some bushes … and he needed it fast.

He held out for as long as he could, but eventually his insides decided their demands weren’t being met and
threatened
revolt. In a sudden moment of urgency, he excused himself and disappeared off the path. Riadni stopped in
surprise
as he stumbled away into the undergrowth, but then shrugged and sat down to wait for nature to take its course. Chamus sighed quietly with relief, squatting in the shadow of a hawthorn bush. He finished his business, embarrassed at nearly being caught out. Then he glanced around him, his
heart sinking. He had used his handkerchief and thrown it away yesterday.

‘Use dock leaves,’ Riadni called from out on the path, a smile in her voice, ‘the big flat ones.’

‘Right, right, I know,’ he mumbled, grabbing a handful of the large leaves.

‘Yes,’ she sniffed, ‘I’m sure you’ve read all about it.’

Before too long, they were off again, clearing the trees of the upper slopes and winding down the hill towards the
flatlands
. From behind them, there came the baying of hounds and the echoing shouts of men calling to each other. Riadni went pale.

‘They’re tracking us with dogs,’ she said to Chamus. ‘They must really want us badly.’

They picked up their pace and jogged down the incline. The trail levelled out and they came into view of a group of large brick buildings that stood out stark and bold against the surrounding landscape. Chamus was struck by their design, for the latticed windows, slate tiles and the brick arches over the windows and doors were Altiman without a doubt. The whole thing looked out of place, here in the midst of the wild country. The path led down past the gates in the high wall and around it were poles with cryptic
markings
down their lengths. He went to walk up to the gates, but Riadni held him back.

‘Don’t,’ she said urgently. ‘It’s not safe, look at the signs.’

‘I don’t know what they say,’ he told her.