by Glenda Larke
She turned away from the Fist and looked back at the Sponge. ‘The ley I saw—the ley that killed the Wild that were attacking me—where did it come from?’
He was silent.
‘It was Davron, wasn’t it?’ When he continued to keep silent, she made a small sound of exasperation. ‘Scow, I know it was him. I just want to know why he collapsed. Was he—did it kill him too?’
The tainted man shook his head. ‘No, I shouldn’t think so. But Davron is not like Meldor. He doesn’t have the same sort of skills. I suspect he misjudged and drained himself, not only of ley, but of his own…energy. He probably fainted.’
She wanted to ask how he’d obtained the ley, she wanted to ask half a dozen questions, but they all died unasked. ‘There’s someone there,’ she whispered. ‘There’s someone coming.’ And the hope that surged in her was painful and told her far too much. I mustn’t.
Meldor and Davron appeared at the edge of the fire’s glow, one leaning into the other. Davron was partly supporting himself on Piers’ staff, which she had thought she’d lost forever.
Scow jumped to his feet, grinning. ‘Maker be thanked!’ He went forward to help Meldor, but Keris saw that it was Davron who suffered, not the blind man. Meldor was tired, but he held himself erect and the blood on his clothes was Davron’s, not his. It was the guide who was in pain. The cut on his arm had been roughly bandaged, but the bandage was blood-soaked. Freed of Meldor’s support he limped hesitantly to where she stood, and halted a step away. The look he gave her was concentrated, as if he had blocked out the rest of the world.
She remained where she was, unable to move, afraid she would give herself away. Afraid of what she was feeling. She took no joy in her relief that he was safe; every particle of desire and love she felt was suffused with an equal horror. He is bonded to the Unmaker. He is married, he is Trician, his wife is beautiful. He plays with the evil of ley. One day he will answer the Unmaker’s summons…
She said, ‘I thought you must have died.’ Don’t let me love you.
He spoke at the same time. ‘I thought the Wild had taken you.’
They stopped, then she started again. ‘Stockwood trampled you—’
Meldor laughed, and the spell was broken; the world came back with a rush. She stepped back, flushing, wondering how obvious she’d been. Davron turned away, smiling at Meldor, then looking back at her to share the joke. ‘I said to Meldor that I felt I had been trampled by a herd of horses. I guess Stockwood is about equal to a herd of normal beasts. Ley-life, Scow, I swear he must have broken every rib I have. I need to be strapped up, and whatever you do, don’t make me laugh.’
Scow put a hand on his shoulder by way of apology and the three of them made their way to where the Unbound man had erected Davron’s tent, and disappeared inside.
Keris, left alone by the fire, felt the prick of helpless tears and was not sure which of her numerous miseries was responsible. I shall have to learn to swear out loud, she thought. Maybe then I wouldn’t need to cry all the time…
~~~~~~~
‘You shouldn’t have said that to her,’ Meldor said some time later, after listening to all Scow had to tell them. ‘It was too early.’
Scow gave a shake of his reddish mane. He was seated on the floor of Davron’s tent, next to the guide’s bedroll. Meldor, although he must have been tired, remained standing. The only concession he made to fatigue was to lean on his staff. ‘Sorry,’ Scow said. ‘I was not thinking. I was worried, wondering if you might both be hurt, or dead, and I didn’t know whether I should go back for you, or not.’
‘There, you did the right thing. If you had gone back, we’d probably have had to turn around and go and look for you. But make no mistake about it, Maid Kaylen’s still not to be trusted. She’s still tethered to Chantry, and just because she’s had a few frustrations doesn’t mean she’s ready to change her allegiance. There’s a streak of righteousness there and she doesn’t have the trauma of being tainted to help her change. Not like Quirk.’
‘As long as she doesn’t go to Portron,’ Davron said. Now that he was clean, fed and re-bandaged, he was feeling much better, especially as Meldor had applied ley to help the healing process. Nonetheless, he was not entirely comfortable, as his constant shifting of position showed.
‘Keris run to Portron? She won’t,’ Scow said. ‘Even if she wasn’t ley-coerced. She has a well-developed sense of fair play, and anyway, anyone with half a mind can see she’s halfway to loving you, Davron.’
Davron winced and said nothing.
‘Anyway,’ Meldor said, ‘you’re not to trust her yet. Either of you. Certainly no mention of Havenstar. Although if she loves you, Davron, maybe we can use that.’
The blackness in Davron’s eyes flashed dangerously. ‘One of these days I might just run a blade into your guts, Meldor.’
Meldor did not seen disturbed by the threat. He looked down at the guide with a shrug. ‘I don’t have your scruples, Maker be thanked. If I did, nothing would ever be done. Now, what about your ley, my friend? Can it wait until tomorrow night?’
Davron shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. I need it, Meldor. The lack of it is an ache right through my bones to my soul.’ He hesitated. ‘I didn’t know… I never guessed! I didn’t really know until this moment. Meldor, if ever we win, totally win and banish ley from this land, we who have taken the ley will die of its lack, just as surely as the Unbound will die of too much stability.’
Meldor nodded calmly. ‘I’ve always known that.’
Davron took a deep breath. ‘You never warned us. Was that just? Ley-life, how can you ask men to fight for a victory that will bring only certain death to them?’
‘Won’t it be worth it?’
‘I may think so, but others may not. If they knew they were doomed, would they follow?’
‘I did,’ said Scow softly. ‘Others of my kind may believe what the Margraf tells them of a better world where we will all be whole again, with the Unmaker vanquished. I am not so sanguine, and I know Meldor well enough to know when he equivocates. If there’s a total victory, we’re all doomed, Davron. That’s our tragedy. But we will go on, nonetheless—for the Tillys of this world, and the Alysses. For children like your Mirren and Staven. So that one day they will not have to make a crossing.’
Meldor pushed himself away from the tent pole. ‘Perhaps you should both put your faith in Havenstar,’ he admonished them. ‘Haven’t I told you it will be our salvation?’ He went to the tent flap, saying, ‘Try to sleep for an hour or two, Davron. I will come for you when the camp is quiet, and we will go into the ley together.’
~~~~~~~
Keris could not sleep. Too much had happened that day. She’d been too close to death too many times, her emotions had been scored and scarified and shredded. She was exhausted, but sleep would not come. When someone scratched at the canvas of her tent she was almost relieved. ‘Who is it?’
‘Quirk.’
She unlaced the tent opening and poked her head out. She strained to see him against the darkness of the ground beyond, and thought she glimpsed his small eyes, perched as they were in moving mounds of ringed flesh. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Something woke me. I looked out to see Meldor and Davron. I followed them. Keris, I think they went into the ley.’
‘One moment.’ She withdrew into her tent and hurriedly dressed, ignoring the momentary pain of her scratches and aching muscles.
When she emerged from the tent, Quirk clutched at her arm worriedly. ‘I don’t know if it’s any of our business, but I followed them. They were stopped by the Trader’s sentry but he let them pass. None of them saw me, of course. Meldor and Davron just went straight down towards the mist, where you say the Wide is. What should we do?’
‘I’ll take a look.’
He guided her through the camp, then distracted the sentry with noise while she slipped past. A moment later he rejoined her. He pointed. ‘They entered over there somewhere.’
> ‘Yes, I can see them.’
‘What are they doing? They didn’t go to, um, to meet Carasma, did they? Could they be, er, Minions?’
Towards the centre of the line she could see a swirl of ley hues. As the clot of colour teased out more thinly she caught glimpses of Davron and Meldor standing together, close enough to have been in an embrace. A twirl of ley, pinkish in colour, wrapped them around in a spiral, tied them one to the other. And then she saw: there was no end to the top of the spiral. At the bottom it eased out of the ribbon of ley; at the top it disappeared into them both. Was absorbed through their skin, into their faces.
She turned away, troubled.
‘What did you see?’ Quirk asked, watching her anxiously. ‘Is he there?’
She shook her head. ‘No, they’re alone. They are…absorbing the ley. For its powers.’
‘Ah.’ He thought about that and nodded. ‘That’s what they used to dispose of the bilee, I suppose.’
She nodded in turn.
‘That’s illegal,’ he remarked finally. ‘And it’s what Minions do.’
She was silent.
‘Keris,’ he said, ‘I don’t know what to do. They want me to come with them. They want to fight the Unmaker. You know I’ve become friendly with Scow—’
‘Yes.’
‘He’s a fine chap. The best.’ He pulled at his earlobe. ‘He says there’s a place where the Unbound can live and be safe.’
‘Havenstar? I’ve heard of it. But Scow told me it didn’t exist. At least, that’s what I thought he meant.’
‘Well, I don’t think it’s like rumours say, with sorcerers and all that, to make us human again. I don’t even know if it’s called Havenstar. Scow didn’t use that word. But he says there is a place. Look, I’m scared of the Unstable. I’ve always been scared. I hate it. I hate the thought that out here, there are Minions and the Wild just waiting for an opportunity to rip us apart. I want to be safe again.’
‘They make use of ley. And they’ll lead you into confrontation with the Unmaker. You will be far from safe in their company. In our company,’ she corrected. For am I not one of them too? ‘You will be hunted by both Lord Carasma and Chantry, if you are not careful.’
‘Oh, but I’ll be there, in that place. Safe. They won’t want me to fight! They know what a coward I am.’
She sighed. ‘Quirk, Quirk, can’t you see? They want you for what you are. The Chameleon.’
In the light she saw his blank uncertainty.
‘A spy, Quirk. You are the perfect spy. Not even the Minions can see you if you stay still, or move slowly. Although the Wild may smell you, I suppose.’
‘Oh.’ He stood motionless and his outline, even in the light from the ley, blurred away into the background. ‘I’m stupid, I suppose.’
She didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent while he thought things through. He roused himself after a while with an odd smile. ‘Ironic, isn’t it? When Carasma changed me, and other Unbound, with his wretched ley, he brought into being instruments that might bring about his downfall. Scow with his great strength, other men who have the claws or senses of animals… A man who wears the perfect camouflage. In the end we’re the ones who will bring him down. Not Chantry.’ He turned his sad eyes towards her without moving his head. ‘What else is left to me, Keris? I cannot enter a stab. I have to take what Meldor offers; it’s all I’ll ever have.’
Sweet Creation, she thought. Is there no end to his tragedy? She gave one last glance back at Davron and Meldor, where they stood oblivious to her gaze as they drank in forbidden power, and then she and the Chameleon turned to walk back towards the camp.
~~~~~~~
Chapter Eighteen
Watch for the Knight who sees the night but not the stars, for he shall show thee another way to make the sighted of Chantry stumble in the dark, even as his gait is smooth.
—Predictions II: 5: 17
They stayed two days in the camp beside the Wide. The trader, having sold another mule to Corrian, moved on, but Davron Storre needed rest so the fellowship stayed. Keris spent half the time trying not to think about him, and the other half trying not to think about the Snarled Fist. She succeeded in neither endeavour.
Once, seeing her eyes follow Davron as he limped about the camp, Corrian jabbed her in the ribs. ‘Come on, love, why don’t you bed the hunk ’stead of lapping ’im up with your eyes? You’re not so innocent that you don’t know how you would enjoy it!’
‘He’d only take me because his wife’s not around,’ she said and then blushed because she sounded like a sulky child.
Corrian laughed. ‘So? So? What does it matter? Enjoy!’ Then, seeing the grief in her, she lowered her voice. ‘Listen, love, don’t you hold with all this crap that Chantry doles out ’bout the pleasures of the body being a sin, and all. Sex is an urge, like wanting a drink of water when you’re thirsty, or wanting a bite to eat when you’re hungry. ’Tis Creator given, just like the thirst and the hunger. You slake one and assuage t’other—then Chantry tells us not to scratch the third itch we’ve got because that one’s a sin for the unwed? Makes no sense now, does it?’
She could not help smiling. ‘Corrian, I thought you were supposed to be on this pilgrimage as atonement for your sins. You’ll not earn many points if you sleep with anyone who’ll have you along the way, and try to urge others to do so as well.’
Corrian grinned at her wickedly. ‘Ah lass, ’tis not bedding men that was my sin. It was the thieving. And a few other sundry, er, blunders over the years. Chantry can rave all it likes about fornication, but I’ll not believe that anything so sweet, that gives pleasure to both sides of the bed, can be a sin!’ She puffed at her pipe, her face suddenly pensive. ‘Mayhap there’s summat not so good about living off the earnings of the girls, though, I’ll grant you that. If I live through this damn trek, I’ll not do that again. At least, I’ll try not to do that again, but believe me, I’ll still be humping between the sheets on my own account till the day I die. Listen lass, if it brings pleasure to you and him—’ she jerked a head at Davron ‘— there can’t be aught wrong with it.’
‘He’s married.’
‘So? She’s not here, is she? If she wanted ’im to be faithful, then she ought to be at his side when he needs her. Anyways, she’ll never know. He’s not so daft he’d tell her.’
She sighed. Perhaps Corrian was right. Perhaps it was better to have a moment’s pleasure and a sweet memory, than to have nothing at all. But I’ll be damned if I’ll seduce him. If he asks, I’ll…think about it.
Her spirits felt no lighter once she had made the decision, partly because in her heart she recognised an empty jug when she saw one. She wanted more than just pleasure. She sighed again. What was the point anyhow? She did not believe he would ask. Why should he? He was married to a beautiful, lovely woman and in another few days he would be seeing her. She had borne him children. He had loved her so much that he had bonded himself to the Unmaker in order to save her.
What wouldn’t I give to be loved like that…
But she was freckled and skinny and rather plain, and few men gave her more than a passing glance. If he wanted her at all, and perhaps he did a little, it was just because she was there and there was no one else.
~~~~~~~
The days they spent in camp went slowly. Meldor took Scow back into the Sponge to retrieve Corrian’s packs. He and Davron had come across them on the way out and were able to find them again. Her mule had been killed and eaten, but the Wild hadn’t been interested in her packs.
On the second night, Keris found her tent pegs were being obliterated by the Unstable, and her tent was almost blown away as a consequence. The others hastily loosened and moved their pegs to prevent the same thing happening to them, while Scow whittled some new ones out of the Sponge for her.
‘I hope that darn blue thing is not alive,’ she muttered, ‘or it may just decide to roll over in revenge one dark night and flatten us all to paste.’ Sco
w found that idea hugely amusing, but then, there was little that Scow could not find worthy of laughter or a smile.
Portron came over to help her repitch her tent. ‘Just in time, I think,’ he said as he hammered in the last of the new pegs. ‘It’s going to rain. Keris, could I talk to you for a moment?’
She hid a sigh. ‘All right.’ She waved him inside the canvas just as the first raindrops fell. ‘But I should warn you that I think I know everything you’re about to tell me. If you want me to change my mind, then you’ll have to come up with something new.’
‘New?’ he asked in despair. ‘What else can I tell you? There is nothing more important than your immortal soul, and you endanger it just by being here, in the company of—’
She cut him short. ‘Chantor, what is it you know about Meldor that I don’t know? You recognized him, didn’t you?’
He looked at her in an agony of feeling. It was now raining in earnest and the sound of the water on the canvas almost drowned out his stifled reply. ‘Yes. Finally. I remembered where I’d seen him before. It was in the Chantery of Kt Ladma. He was there for a few nights, oh, about twenty years ago. He led the kinesis devotions and preached the sermon at Prostration one night, I recall.’
‘And—?’
‘He wasn’t called Meldor then,’ he said bitterly. ‘He was Knight Edion of Galman. Of the Knighten Ordering, the holiest and wisest of them all.’ Tears welled up in his eyes. ‘How could he be deserting Chantry, Keris? We revered him. Above all others, we revered him. When he spoke, our hearts were swelling up like puff-pigeons just to be hearing him. He was preaching such ideas: brotherhood, understanding… People strewed flower petals under his feet when he walked in the town, in recognition of his learning and piety. And then one day he disappeared.’