Waking Olympus (The Singers of the Dark Book 1) (29 page)

“Don’t worry son, we’ve all been there. It is a terrible thing to see everything you know made insignificant. Ahem. I haven’t been this far before. I’m surprised to see it so green, the stories only told of devastation. We just avoid it.”

In the distance, on the other side of the largest lake, Mikel saw a clear patch. In his spyglass he saw the silhouette of buildings. Checking his map he found that the old path north went very close to a city on the northern side of the lake, but nowhere near the path taken by Bethor.

Kay turned to Mikel. “The Xanadu Valley was desolate and poisoned after the Great Battle, few who ventured here returned. Those who came to these overlooks reported a wasteland. It became forbidden, taboo, forgotten. Over time it has been improving — but this is dramatic. Still, Bethor must be very determined, everyone avoids it.”

All of the Traders were surprised that it was now so verdant and suspected that taboos must still be keeping the superstitious people of the Plains away from the area.

Tarvis said, “Greed and ambition can beat superstition and belief."

"What about the farms?" Mikel said.

Tarvis shrugged. "They have probably been edging closer to the valley for ages. But I don't think they would go further north."

"Tarvis, look there," Kay said pointing.

There was a cloud of dust to the north-east blowing from a side valley. The Bethor army was now moving out of sight behind some small mountains, heading east. Within days they would be at Tanten.

They proceeded into the Valley of Xan, its ancient name of Xanadu rarely used now. John suggested a quick visit to the farms, maybe someone there had some advice about the Valley. Pretend to be after trade goods, get suggestions and advice, and perhaps find out a little about the passing army.

The first farm they came to was on the same southern rolling, grassy slope heading down into the valley. There was long green grass, some tended fields, a cabin.

"I don't see any activity." John said.

"I don't like it. Someone should be working, or coming to meet us." Kay added.

As they approached they could now see that the fields were trodden down, stripped. There were no animals, yet there were pens for them. The door to the cabin was ajar peering into a black empty space. Mikel then saw off to their right in the long grass some light colors, shapes, clothes. He knew what it meant. Like mounds of bleeding seaweed on a beach. He rode over, this time he would see. This was someone else's tragedy but he owed these people a witnessing.

He got off the horse and approached the bodies. The father had been killed with a single blow to the head. His wife and teenage daughter weren't so lucky. Rigor mortis had set in, he had no experience with this so had no idea of how long ago it happened. Tarvis estimated they had been dead at least a day. Mikel emphatically insisted that they be given a decent burial though no one disagreed. They spent some time in silence looking over the graves. A few prayers were whispered. Then someone called to them.

"Please. Help me." It was a boy about eleven or twelve. Black hair, brown eyes, dirty face. His name was Eirik. He told them how he was away looking for some wayward sheep, heard riders, came back and hid in the grass, and how he saw everything.

They reassured him even as though their words felt like lies. It was what he needed, and maybe they needed to pretend they were true as well. The natural question, never asked, was,
what do we do with him?
The answer to that they instinctively knew,
take him with us.
The boy was still disconnected from events, he needed to make peace with that. Mikel took him to the simple graves for his family. Without warning the boy broke down and started sobbing, Mikel put his arm around him and whispered to him.

"Bad people did this Eirik, but there are still a lot of good people in the world. You can tell the good ones by how they treat you, and you can learn to trust them. It's good to be angry just don't let it turn you into one of those bad people."

Eirik didn't respond, just looked at him, the tears making vertical marks through the dirt on his face. He'd wipe away a tear, smearing the dirt, ready for the next flow of tears. Mikel didn't know whether what he said would make a difference but he needed to say it for his own sake, this what he would have said to himself if he could have.

Tarvis took the boy on his horse. He was delighted to have a protege; Eirik, clung to Tarvis, relaxing slowly while listening to his endless tales. There was another farm further on, far off their course. They couldn't do everything and save everyone, Mikel decided to continue past it.

 
They found the main trail, very clear now because of the passage of the army. Those who had killed Eirik's family must have been scouts scavenging the countryside for food. There might still be some about trying to catch up with the main body. Warily they advanced up the trail, their greatest fear was overtaking stragglers. They were looking for a side path, clear on the map but probably overgrown now.

It was not until the next day that Tarvis bird-whistled and drew their attention to a region of brush with fewer trees; the road they had been looking for. The underlying roadwork had restricted the plant growth enough to be visible, though it could still be difficult to travel.

The road turned out to be a magnificent country path through countryside unlike anything that any of them had experienced. They made their way through a majestic forest towering on either side. Everywhere there was the rustle of wildlife, Mikel even saw a deer, while birds flew overhead, some quite large but either unfamiliar or hastily seen. In places the tall trees arched high over the grassy trail and beams of light played through the rustling leaves, while the breeze passing over the forest gave a sound a little like water flowing. The experience was invigorating, the place was unlike anything Mikel had thought could exist, the small rainforests of Lind, Gowss, and Laplas had their own beauty but this area was larger and supported more diversity.
 

Tarvis smiled, “A lot of good hunting here friends.”

Mikel nodded. “When this is over, when we are safe, I want to come back here. This is beautiful. It's good to hear something besides the sound of horses hooves." He looked around and saw smiles.

That night they camped in the middle of the road. Kay and Mikel ventured into the nearby forest before the sun had set. It was wilder than anything he had seen. So much life, animals, plants. Squirrels ran up and down oaks and although it was dark he could see orchids and other plants he would have expected in rainforests. Too much to record. He noted a few of the obvious animals; deer, squirrels, wallabies and did a few quick drawings. The ecosystem seemed healthy, he wondered about that until it occurred to him that perhaps there was a top predator about. Kay seemed interested in some tracks, like a big dog.

"Wolves?" he asked.

"I don't know, they only exist in stories, don't they?"

But they didn't have the time to explore. They were walking back on a slightly different path when Mikel tripped over something. He looked at the ground and saw a red and white shape about 40 centimeters long protruding slightly out of the ground. He got a stick and scraped away at it until it all came loose. He held in his hand an object about 40 centimeters by 30. It hadn't been torn, it seemed to be a panel off something, very light. It was getting dark so they hurried back to the camp site.

"What is it?" said John.

In the flickering light Mikel turned it over, carefully brushing dirt off it while he tried to read the fine writing etched into the material.

"I don't know. It mentions, 'AirCar Specs Model 5V', and some numbers. Hmm. Cruising altitude. Maximum velocity. Maximum load. Fuel capacity. Wow! Remember those legends about the flying carriages? I think this is part of one. The maximum altitude is 5,000 meters. Maximum speed, 443 kph."

Even by firelight it was beautiful, the colors still bright and the surface, pitted on one corner with burn marks. Yet it still had a gloss that said speed. He knew he couldn't keep it. It was too large. And he couldn't leave it here in the middle of the road, a clue to their passing. He stood up drew his arm back holding it and hurled into the dark. Hearing a crash in the bushes, some fluttering of wings. He didn't talk for the rest of the night, there was something very sad about the whole incident but he couldn't say why.

Next day they continued and at dusk the trail came close to the lake. There was a clearing and ruins of some small stone buildings, now they were only home to a few small scurrying animals. They set up camp near the shore. Tarvis and John made themselves busy looking after the horses. Kay fetched a line out of her bag, got out a live grasshopper she had caught moments before and put it on a hook showing Eirik the art of fishing. She cast it out. Mikel and Eirik looking on. How long had it been since he had done things like that? He remembered his plans that morning that Master Samuel visited, they were going to go fishing off the old pier. Carefree bliss, could that have been so recent? How long had it been? It seemed like years but it had only been less than two months.

Kay's bait had barely hit the water when she had a bite; after a ridiculously short struggle she eventually landed a large unfamiliar fish. "Brown trout everyone! About four kilos." A rich area indeed.

The fish was magnificent. Everyone praised Kay for having the sense to have a fishing kit in her pack. John cooked it, scavenging some interesting herbs from around the campsite. General skepticism soon collapsed when the smell got to them, and since they all survived the experience John's cooking skills were re-evaluated.

Mikel walked down to the lake edge to wash his hands. A crunch of boots in sand next to him. Kay, also down on her haunches washing.

"Um. Mikel. Look, sorry things didn't start off so well between us."

"That's all right. I guessed you must have a pretty good reason."

"Look." She looked out across the fading light on the lake but that was not what she meant.

"Years ago, I was part of a caravan that went to Bethor. I decided to sneak out and see the sights. I'll make it a short story. I got grabbed, stunned by something hitting me, didn't even see who it was, pulled into an alley. There were five of them, I think, they raped me. All I could hear were their voices, even the voices of those who eventually found me. That dialect and accent. I still need to go on the caravans for my family, have to pay for the education of my two children, and that means I often end up in Bethor but I try to keep my distance. I feel anger and disgust when I hear that accent. Funny thing is I don't know if I am more disgusted with myself or them. I know, victim guilt. But …"

"I know what you mean. Sometimes when I look back I feel guilt about what happened to my family. Perhaps there was something I could or should have done. But wanting control by thinking you were responsible is a delusion. Sometimes circumstance just traps us. We do what we can. Then we go on living and try to put it behind us."

She smiled. Her eyes were watering a bit. So were his.

She got up, put one hand on his shoulder. "You are more of a Trader than you think, Mikel. And a good trail companion, I'd be glad to join any caravan of yours."

Out on the lake it was dusk, moths and insects performed mating rituals over the water as fish rose jumping out of the water snapping at the flying morsels.

Somehow it was decided that it was bath time. One at a time with someone on guard just in case there were other things in the lake apart from trout. Except for Kay, who stated she didn't need any man looking at her getting naked and pretending it was duty.

"What happens if something attacks you?" John asked smiling.

"I will be wearing my dagger."

"Naked? With a dagger?"

"Yes."

"You're a dangerous woman, Kay."

"You better believe it."

John raised his hands turned around and walked away saying. "All right, that beats anything I can come up with."

Apparently not all Traders were blasé about public nudity. He filed it away, he thought of the Traders as a single culture but he had never really delved deeply, it looked like there was much more complexity than he thought.

The water was freezing but it was worth it. Clean and fed they felt pretty good, certainly ready to tackle the unknown of the ancient city that should be ahead of them.

In the morning they continued on at a brisk pace. The road was in better condition now, but there was less vegetation all round, not just on the road. The landscape looked dry and if not barren then harsh. The horses could move more easily so that made up for it. Late that afternoon they reached the outskirts of the city, or what had been the city. There was a sign in the form of a shoulder high square stone marker. It said simply, "Sydney". They camped well outside the city and took shifts as guard.

He had never heard a dawn chorus so loud. It was a heartening way to wake up. Later, a warm morning greeted them as they prepared for whatever was in the city. The main danger would likely come from bandits, or perhaps even wild animals, anything was possible. There was always the chance that some tribe had set up home here and then they would be viewed as an invader and greatly outnumbered. However, any occupation would be very different from a deserted ruin, there would be clear signs of human presence. It was obvious that they would have to go through the city in order to get to the northern road that led to the Citadel.

They checked weapons and prepared to enter the city.

The city looked to be in remarkably good condition after they got through the almost flat ‘outskirts’. There most structures had long since fallen to dust. Farther on most small buildings had collapsed roofs and maybe a wall but most of the larger structures looked intact, and there appeared to have been a few fires, but overall it was very well preserved. The road north exited from the northern side of the city which meant they would have to pass the center. Some of the buildings they passed were in an exceptional state, war had never touched this place, and the materials used must have been extremely tough. Where had the people gone then? Mikel was sorely tempted to enter just a few buildings and explore but lives depended on him now. Dead as it was, it was so beautiful that he found it hard to associate this place with the Cities of the Plains.