‘Ha, a death warrant. You are nothing more than the tribal savages we enlisted.’
‘You will be taken to the port of Solbeach, where a ship will sail eastwards. When the captain has voyaged as far as the seas will allow him, he will search for an island with fresh water and vegetation. There you will be abandoned with seed stock and tools sufficient for your survival. You will live out your life there alone to contemplate the enormity of your crimes. You will not attempt to return to civilization. If you are found within the boundary of civilization you will immediately be put to death. May the Lady bless your soul.’ Edeard rolled up the scroll. ‘Constables Felax and Malcol will accompany you on the journey to ensure the sentence is carried out. I’d advise you not to annoy them.’
‘Fuck you. I won and you know it. This alliance is the start of One Nation.’
Edeard turned and started to leave the tent.
‘Owain won,’ the Gilmorn shouted after him. ‘You’re nothing more than his puppet. That’s all. Do you hear me Waterwalker? Puppet to the dead; puppet to the man you murdered. You are my soul twin. I salute you. I salute my final victory. Family blood will govern this world. They say you can see souls. Can you see the soul of Mistress Florrel laughing? Can you?’
Edeard hardened the shield his third hand created, blotting out the vicious shouting as he walked away.
*
Edeard wanted to travel on alone, but Dinlay wouldn’t hear of it. He wouldn’t argue, he just said nothing while Edeard shouted hotly at him, maintaining his quiet stubborn self. So in the end Edeard gave in as they both knew he would, and ordered the regiment’s cavalry master to saddle two horses. The pair of them rode off together towards Ashwell.
The landscape itself hadn’t altered, only the use it had once been put to. Half a day’s ride from his destination, Edeard began to recognize the features that had dominated his childhood. Shapes on the horizon started to register. They were cloaked in different colours now as the vegetation had changed; crops giving way to a surge of wilder plants. The road was completely overgrown, hard to distinguish, though the buried stony surface was still perceptible to farsight. The fields around the village, once rich and fertile, had long reverted to grassland and bushes, with their old hedges sprouting up into small trees. Drainage ditches were clotted with leaves and silt, swelling out into curiously long pools.
It was a warm day, with few clouds in the bright azure sky. Sitting in his saddle, Edeard could see for miles in every direction. The cliff was the first thing he identified. That hadn’t changed at all. It set off a peculiar feeling of trepidation in his heart. He had truly never expected to come back here. On the day after the attack, he’d left with the posse from Thorpe-by-Water, and had only glanced back once, seeing blackened ruins chuffing a thin smoke into the open sky, and even that image was blurred by tears and anguish. It had been too painful to attempt another look; he and Salrana had ridden away together, holding hands and bravely staring on ahead.
Now, nature had completed what Owain and the Gilmorn had started. Years of rain and wind and insects and tenacious creepers had accelerated the decay begun by the fires. All the village council’s half-hearted repairs along the rampart walls had finally started to give way, leaving the broad defences sagging and uneven. The outer gates had gone, their charcoal remnants rotting to a thin mulch where tough weeds infiltrated their roots. Their absence exposed the short tunnel under the ramparts, a dank uninviting passage of gloomy fungus-coated brick. Above them, the stone watchtowers sagged; their thick walls held fast, though the slate and timber roofs under which so many sentries had sheltered across the decades were gone.
Edeard dismounted, and tethered his skittish horse to the iron rings just outside the arching portal. The sturdy metal at least remained untouched.
‘You okay?’ Dinlay queried cautiously.
‘Yes,’ Edeard assured him, and walked through the dripping tunnel, sweeping aside the curtain of trailing vines. As soon as he emerged into the village, birds took flight, great swirls of them shrieking as they flapped their way into the sky. Small creatures scampered away over the rough mounds of debris.
Edeard was prepared for ruins, but the size of the village caught him by surprise. Ashwell was so small. He’d never considered it in such terms before. But, really, the whole area between the cliff and the rampart walls could fit easily into Myco or Neph, the smallest city districts.
The basic layout of the village remained. Most of the stone walls survived in some form or another, though collapsing roofs had demolished a lot of them. Streets were easy to make out, and his memory filled in the lines wherever slides of rubble obscured the obvious routes. The big guild halls had withstood the fires well enough to retain their shapes; though they were nothing more than empty shells, without roofs or internal walls. Edeard sent his farsight sweeping out to examine them, then immediately halted. Lying just below the thin coating of dirt and ash and weeds that had engulfed the village were the bones of the inhabitants. They were everywhere. ‘Lady!’
‘What?’ Dinlay asked.
‘There was no burial,’ Edeard explained. ‘We just left. It was too . . . enormous to deal with.’
‘The Lady will understand. And the souls of your friends certainly will.’
‘Maybe.’ He looked round the desolation, and shuddered again.
‘Edeard? Do any linger?’
Edeard let out a long reluctant sigh. ‘I don’t know.’ Once again he reached out, pushing his farsight to the limit of resolution, striving to catch any sign of spectral figures. ‘No,’ he said eventually. ‘There’s nobody here.’
‘That’s good, then.’
‘Yes.’ Edeard led the way towards the carcass of the Eggshaper Guild Hall.
‘This is where you grew up?’ Dinlay asked with interest as he scanned round the nine sides of the broken courtyard.
‘Yes.’ Somehow Edeard had expected to find some trace of Akeem. But now, actually standing beside the listing stables and unsafe hall, he knew he never would. There were bones aplenty, even whole skeletons, but it would take days of careful examination to try and identify any of them. And ultimately, for what purpose? Who am I trying to appease and satisfy here? Would the souls of the dead villagers care that he was here? Would Akeem want him grubbing through the dirt to find some pieces of his long-dead body? I bury all of them, or I bury none.
Of course, there was one other thing Edeard could do. His recollection of that night was perfect: himself and the other apprentices meeting up in the cave for an evening of fun and kestric. Even as he thought it, he looked up at the cliff, seeing the small dark cleft that they wriggled through to find the cavern that offered privacy from their masters.
That simple recollection triggered a whole wave of memory. He could see the village as it had been that last fine summer. People striding along the streets, talking and laughing. Market stalls being set up; farmers bringing their produce in on big wagons. Apprentices hurrying about their duties. Village elders in their finer clothes. Children scampering about, chasing each other with shrieks of laughter.
I can do it. I can go back to that moment. I can defeat the bandits that night, I can give them all a life again.
He shook his head as if to clear it. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. This was far worse than any temptation Ranalee had ever offered.
I would have to go to Makkathran, this time with Akeem’s letter of sponsorship. I would be an apprentice at the Blue Tower. But Owain would still be there, and Buate, and Tannarl and Mistress Florrel and Bise. I would have to dispose of them once more.
‘I can’t,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t do that again.’
‘Edeard?’ Dinlay asked gently. His hand squeezed Edeard’s shoulder.
Edeard wiped the tears away, banishing forever the sight of the village as it had been. Standing in the cracked doorway arch to the Eggshaper Guild Hall, Akeem regarded Edeard with sad eyes.
Edeard knew that look so well. A rebuke which ha
d been directed at him a thousand times as an apprentice. Don’t let me down.
‘I won’t,’ he promised.
Dinlay frowned. ‘Won’t what?’
Edeard breathed in deeply, calming his rampaging emotions. He stared at the broken doorway. Akeem wasn’t there. A smile touched his lips. ‘Fail them,’ he told Dinlay. ‘I won’t fail the people who died so I might ultimately wind up where I am today, where we all are. It doesn’t always apply, you know.’
‘What doesn’t?’
‘Sometimes to do what’s right you have to do what’s wrong.’
‘I always thought that was stupid. I bet Rah never actually said it.’
Edeard laughed out loud, and took a last look around the old nine-sided courtyard. He put his arm round his friend’s shoulders. ‘You’re probably right. Come on, let’s go home. Home to Makkathran.’
‘About time. I know you had to come here, but I’m not sure it’s healthy. We all regard the past too highly. We should cut ourselves free of it. You can only ever look forward to the future.’
Edeard pulled him closer. ‘You’re really quite a philosopher, aren’t you?’
‘Why do you say that with so much surprise?’
‘That was not surprise, that was respect.’
‘Humm.’
‘Anyhow,’ Edeard teased, ‘Saria will be waiting for you. Waiting eagerly.’
‘Oh dear Lady. I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but what in Honious did Boyd ever see in her?’
‘What? No! She’s a lovely girl.’
‘She is a nightmare.’
‘Kristabel thinks highly of her.’
‘Yes. But Kristabel thinks highly of you, too.’
‘Ouch! That hurt. Okay then, perhaps Kanseen could steer someone more to your liking.’
‘No! And certainly not Kanseen. Do you know what her definition of “nice girls” is, let alone “suitable” ones? This is what you’ve all been doing since the four of you got married. It’s embarrassing. Besides, I like being single.’
‘Married life is wonderful.’
‘Lady! Just stop it will you.’
Edeard walked out of his former guild courtyard grinning contentedly.
3
The PanCephei Line starship had already dropped out of hyper-space when the emergency began. External sensors were showing the passengers an image of the H-congruous world two thousand kilometres below. White clouds tumbled high above dark-blue oceans, sending out long streamers in forays across the surprisingly brown land. Flight information was available to access, designating their vector as a purple line down through the atmosphere to Garamond’s capital: the smooth resolution to another flawless everyday flight across three hundred lightyears.
None of which registered with the increasingly frantic Delivery Man. The Conservative Faction’s intelligence division had automatically sent out a secure classified warning to all operatives as soon as the inversion core broke free of ANA’s edifice. He’d observed with growing dismay as it eluded the Navy ships. Then the deterrence fleet arrived (though its nature wasn’t revealed on any Navy scans of the sol system), and right after that the Swarm materialized. Earth’s defence agency declared a grade one alert.
The Delivery Man called his wife, and to hell with protocol. For whatever reason her u-shadow didn’t accept his first request for a link. When he analysed the basic data he realized she was in the Dulwich Park school. His hand thumped the nicely cushioned armrest of his seat in the first class cubicle in frustration.
Lizzie teleported back home and her u-shadow accepted the link.
‘Thank Ozzie,’ he said. ‘Where are the girls?’
‘Got them. Where are you?’
‘On a starship. Eight minutes out from Gralmond spaceport.’
‘Do you understand what’s happening?’
‘Not really,’ he said, which was honest enough. Though he really didn’t like the look of the eight thousand devices surrounding Sol. Nobody amassed that kind of potential unless they were extremely serious. Even so, he couldn’t imagine what the things were. Not warships, surely? ‘It’s the ANA Factions, their fights have turned physical.’
‘They can’t hurt Earth, can they?’
‘That’s not what it’s about. Look I’ll be with you as soon as I can. I’ll transfer right after I’ve landed.’ Exovision symbols told him the unisphere was changing the routing on the link, which was weird. His secure priority connection with the Conservative Faction intelligence division dropped out. What the fuck? ‘Then I’ll be with you the instant I reach an Earth station,’ he told her, trying to appear positive.
‘Something’s wrong,’ Lizzie said.
It was impossible, but he could feel her distress as though they were using the gaiafield. ‘Lizzie, just hang on! I will be there, I promise you. Tell the girls Daddy is going to be home any minute.’
His u-shadow reported the link with Lizzie had failed, as had the one to the Conservative Faction. ‘No,’ he gasped out loud. His exovision showed every route to Earth had been severed. No data was getting in or out of the Sol system, it was completely cut off from the unisphere. ‘What the hell is happening?’ he asked his u-shadow.
‘Unknown,’ it replied. ‘All wormholes to Sol have physically closed. The Navy and Commonwealth government retain several secure emergency TD links to Sol, none are working.’
‘Did they nova it?’ he asked fearfully.
‘Unknown, but unlikely. Whatever happened, happened very quickly. A nova shockwave would take several minutes to reach Earth.’
‘The planet itself, then, could they have destroyed it, dropped a quantumbuster through the defences or something? Maybe an M-sink?’
‘Possibly. But for every communication system in the solar system to be affected simultaneously the destruction would have to be enormous and swift. That suggests something which acts at hyperluminal velocity.’
‘Did they kill Earth?’ he yelled out.
‘Unknown.’
‘Oh sweet Ozzie.’ His whole body was shuddering as shock gripped him. Biononics worked to calm the impulses. ‘Find out,’ he instructed his u-shadow. ‘Use every source you can access.’
‘Understood.’
Judging by the raised voices muffled by the cubicle door, news of Earth’s disappearance was spreading fast. The Delivery Man couldn’t think what to do. It was the Conservative Faction that always provided him with the best data, now they were gone. Without them, he was no better than anyone else. He had no special ability, no influence, no one to call . . .
Marius, that was his first thought. I could ask Marius. Which would be pitifully weak. But this is Lizzie and the kids. This isn’t the Faction. His rival’s communication icon hung in his exo-vision. He couldn’t resist.
The response took several seconds. His u-shadow reported several semisentients tracking and confirming his location.
‘Yes?’ Marius replied smoothly. There was no attempt to establish any kind of routing security on the link. He was connected to Fanallisto’s cybersphere.
‘What have you done?’ the Delivery Man asked. Some small part of him was intrigued: What’s Marius doing on the planet I just left?
‘I have done nothing. But I am curious why you’re on Gral-mond.’
‘What do you fucking think I’m doing here, you little shit! I’m going home. I was going home. What have you done to my family? What’s happened to Earth?’
‘Ah. Don’t worry. They are perfectly safe.’
‘Safe!’
‘Yes. Your Navy will presumably release the details in a while, but we have simply imprisoned Sol inside a very powerful force field, just like the Dyson Pair.’
‘You did what?’
‘We can no longer accept interference from ANA, nor your own Faction. We will go into the Void. You will not stop us. You cannot. Not now.’
‘I will catch you, I will rip you to fucking pieces.’
‘You disappoint me. I told you the game was ove
r. When will you animals learn? We have won. Elevation is inevitable.’
‘Not while I’m alive, it isn’t.’
‘Are you threatening me? I extend you a simple courtesy and this emotional diarrhoea is how you respond? You are an agent of the Conservative Faction after all, perhaps I shouldn’t take any chances. I will visit Gralmond and eradicate that world with you and everyone else on it.’
‘No!’
‘Are you a threat, or are you a simple broken animal has-been?’
‘This won’t work. You can’t get into the Void. Araminta will never take you there.’
‘Once we secure her, she will have no choice. You know this.’
In the privacy of the first class cubicle, the Delivery Man punched the wall twice. His arm’s biononic reinforcement meant his fist produced a sizeable dint in the carbotanium panelling. He’d never felt so helpless. So useless. Nor had he felt so much anger, most of it directed at himself for not being with his family at this time. The one time they truly should have been together. ‘What about after?’ he asked.
‘After?’
‘If the inversion core does make it into the Void, will you release Sol?’
‘I expect so. It is an irrelevance, then, after all.’
‘If you don’t, I will find you, whatever form you take. And that is a threat.’
The link ended. ‘Shit.’ He hit the wall again, right in the centre of the dint. His storage lacunae contained several Conservative Faction emergency procedures; not one of them anticipated anything as remotely outrageous as this. The Delivery Man let out a nervous little laugh as he contemplated the enormity of the Accelerator’s actions. ANA and the deterrence fleet were the only possible entities that could have ended Living Dream’s Pilgrimage. Apart from the warrior Raiel. Even as he thought it, he knew he couldn’t rely on the aliens guarding the Gulf. The Accelerator Faction had access to Dark Fortress technology now. That might just allow them to get past the warrior Raiel.
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