The Book of Forbidden Wisdom

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The Book of Forbidden Wisdom Page 23

by Gillian Murray Kendall

Just in case any of us lived.

  The signal came much earlier than any of us had expected. I was in the tent pounding herbs, and the girl assisting me called me to the entrance of the tent. Zinda and Caro had sent sentries south on the canyon wall. As I stood gazing out, the last woman visible to us on the canyon lip lifted a flag. The girl helping me said, “They must’ve just entered the canyon.” She was fidgety and nervous and knocked over a bowl of hot water.

  “If you want to go to the hills, go,” I said.

  She laughed. “It’s not that,” she said. “I want to go to the front of the pikes.” Her face was shining. “When a horse goes down there, so will the man riding it.”

  “And what’re you going to do once this ‘Lidan’s down?” I asked.

  “I’m going to cut his throat,” she said. Then she smiled, took off her apron, grabbed a kitchen knife and ran for the final barricade.

  The ‘Lidans would be here at any moment. Sure enough, as I looked out over the landscape, the ‘Lidans rounded the corner of the canyon and came into view; they looked like a long wave coming in to the shore.

  Another of my assistants came to me and looked out to the surge of ‘Lidans and then to the women at the top of the cliff, who were signaling.

  “The signals say,” she said, “that half the ‘Lidan force has come so far.”

  “But look at them,” I said. “They’re so many.”

  “You’re the color of cheese,” said my assistant, peering into my face. “You need to brace.”

  “I need my sister.”

  “Golden Hair? She’s taking care of herself and the women around her. You don’t need to worry about Golden Hair—­about the Lady Silky.”

  I was surprised out of my worry. They normally didn’t use titles. Silky must have impressed this woman, who couldn’t possibly know Silky was only fourteen, who didn’t know she needed protection. That Silky was a child.

  Then I remembered how she had walked away from me to get back to the women working on the bows.

  How she had killed men to save me.

  How she had been brave time and time again, even when it seemed we would be subsumed utterly by the protocols around us.

  And I realized that while she wasn’t yet fully grown up, she could no longer be called a child.

  All this time, the ‘Lidans kept coming.

  I thought the archers would never fire, and I thought of Silky up there with them, and I wondered if she would wait until it was too late. I wondered how much skill she had managed to inculcate into these women.

  The horsemen came on.

  I saw three figures near the pikes, and I realized I was seeing Renn and Jesse and Trey trying to hammer the pikes more deeply into the ground.

  The horsemen were already halfway to the pikes.

  It began.

  I didn’t see a hail of arrows—­at first I didn’t see any arrows at all—­but here and there a ‘Lidan was suddenly struck down from his horse.

  Silky’s work.

  The arrows came more thickly—­I could see them in the air—­and now some of the horses were going down (not Silky’s work). But then the ‘Lidans were lifting their shields as covers, and not many more of them fell. Soon the women would be throwing rocks and using the few crossbows they had.

  Which meant that the women would have to be dangerously close to their targets.

  Then the ‘Lidans who had been rushing forward changed their tactics. Instead of coming straight on, the horses on the outside were peeling off and making for the weakest point of all—­the place where the pikes did not yet begin but where the canyon wall was less than a waist-­high slope of scree. Their plan was obvious:

  They were going to scramble up that scree, get onto the lip of the canyon and ride up and take out the archers.

  Jasmine was a light-­boned mare. She would be no help for me this day. I ran to the barn for Trey’s great Bran instead. By the time I was mounted and on my way to the low canyon wall, at least four ‘Lidan horsemen had managed to get up the scree on the left side, and three had clambered up the right wall.

  Silky was on the left flank.

  ‘Lidan horses were massing at the pikes, and it was only moments before they would find a weak spot and overrun the village. But even as I watched, women wielding brooms were upon them—­and I suddenly understood their tactics. The woman in front ran close to one of the mounted ‘Lidans, lifted her broom, and, with a carefully timed swing, swept him off his horse. Others followed, although not all of them brandished brooms. I recognized my young assistant, and I watched as she bent over a fallen ‘Lidan who was still moving. She made a slashing motion. He did not move again.

  I turned Bran around and took the first path that led to the left, and, sure enough, I was able to find my way around to the back of the canyon wall, where the way was steep but not impossible, and the terrain was grass, not scree.

  I didn’t fool myself. If they found me, I would be dead. But if I didn’t get to Silky, she would be dead, too.

  Bran struggled on the slope. He heaved with the effort, but he didn’t slow. And I had gauged it right. We came out ahead of the ‘Lidan riders, only yards away from Silky and the other women with bows.

  One of the women gave a great cry, but not one of fear. She ran, and the others followed her, down in the direction of the roiling mass of ‘Lidan troops and horses.

  All but Silky. She stood her ground with her crossbow, and she waited. She didn’t spare me a glance; all her focus was on the ‘Lidan horsemen coming toward her.

  She was giving the other women a chance to get to the main part of the fighting. A crossbow is not a longbow, and Silky was going to have to wait until the soldiers were on her to fire. I could only hope that the ‘Lidans wouldn’t cut me down on their way to her crossbow. I had no bow at all. I had only the knife I had been cutting the willow with.

  Bran and I were on the crest of the canyon when Silky suddenly seemed to notice who I was.

  She yelled something, but I didn’t hear. Then she yelled again.

  “Angel—­you’re in the way.”

  I was between her crossbow and her targets, and I didn’t know which way to turn. She couldn’t fire without killing me. She might as well have been unarmed.

  I should have known Silky’s skill better. She lifted her crossbow, and the bolt went so close to me that a little puff of air lifted my hair. The arrow lodged itself in the ‘Lidan rider who was right behind me.

  But there were more behind him.

  “Best not to move at all,” said Silky to me calmly. She lay in another bolt. And another ‘Lidan went down, one whose armor should have been better fastened under the arm.

  I did as she said; I pulled up Bran, and the ‘Lidans, going full out, passed us.

  Silky fit in another bolt. There were two ‘Lidans left, and they were in battle rage, and they were facing down a slip of a girl who was unarmored and completely ignorant of battle.

  The closest to Silky went into a full gallop, trying to end the distance between him and my sister. He carried a battle-­axe, and he raised it as his horse bore down on her.

  When he was half a stride away, she took him down. The horse had to scramble to avoid stepping on her. She stood her ground.

  The fourth ‘Lidan had been canny and had used the others to shield himself. He was close to Silky as she laid in her last bolt. The sun was behind her, and I saw her squint as it reflected off the ‘Lidan’s helmet. She wasn’t going to be able to see well enough to take good aim. And I knew that she was too stubborn and too sentimental to aim for the horse.

  Silky loved horses, and it was going to kill her.

  Unless I did something.

  I crashed Bran sideways into the ‘Lidan’s horse. For a second I thought I was going to fall, but Bran, because he was half-­rearing, heaved me back int
o the saddle. It was the ‘Lidan who fell, his armor clanging on the jagged rocks to my side. I was triumphant, and looked to Silky—­

  who suddenly cried out “Angel!”

  I hadn’t seen that there was yet another ‘Lidan behind the one I’d unhorsed.

  All I knew was that I felt as if an ox had stepped on me, and then, for a while, I didn’t feel anything at all.

  Chapter Twenty-­five

  The Horse

  As I lay on the ground, I had no vision of my mother. Arcadian myth had it that when one was near death, one’s mother came to help with the long journey. But really I didn’t feel dead so much as muffled. Sound came to me faintly—­I thought I could hear Silky calling my name, and then she was crying, “Get her out; get her out; get her out.” The only sense of mine that was sharp was that of smell: blood and garlic. I wished that it would go away.

  And then I was gone again.

  When I regained consciousness once more, I became aware that a large, armored dead ‘Lidan warrior, one who liked his garlic, was lying partially on top of me. We lay together like that, the dead warrior and I, for a while in a macabre embrace. Finally the weight lifted. The smell of sweat and battle (and garlic) receded, and a scent I recognized from my childhood took its place. But it wasn’t Silky’s scent.

  It was Trey’s. Without opening my eyes, I put my arms around him. Perhaps there would be nothing wrong with my sudden surge of need—­and something else, some kind of want—­if I just kept my eyes closed. But he let go as soon as he realized I was conscious, and a moment later, Silky had taken his place.

  “I ran out of bolts,” she said. “Trey was running toward us. He threw a knife—­a really good throw.”

  “It had to be,” said Trey.

  “Bran?”

  “He’s okay,” said Trey. “Next time take your own horse.” And I could hear past the gruff voice, and I could see past the mask that was his face to the fear.

  The fear that was not for his horse.

  “Where’s Renn?”

  “He’s probably singing the ‘Lidans to death,” said Trey. “Come on. The day is far from ours.”

  I looked down at the melee near the pikes. The women, with their brooms and their few horses and some crossbows, were among the horsemen. When a ‘Lidan went down, he was finished. It was then that I noticed there was a man among the women.

  “Is that Jesse?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Trey.

  “He’s in danger.”

  “He’s going to be fine,” said Silky unexpectedly. “He’s strong. We need to take care of you, Angel.”

  “Where’s Zinda?” I asked. “Caro?”

  “In the thick of it,” said Trey.

  “I hope you can walk,” Silky said. “Because I’ve been trying to drag you down the mountain, and I don’t think I can make it much further, even with Trey.”

  “What happened?”

  “The ‘Lidan you killed fell on you and bled all over you, which scared me because I thought it was your blood. There was another ‘Lidan behind the one you rammed. That’s the one Trey took care of. They were hidden by the first ones.”

  We staggered down the side of the hill in silence. Blood was dripping into my eyes—­I had a scalp wound that was weeping red. When we reached the tented area for the wounded, Silky found a clean cloth and pressed it to my forehead.

  I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly Renn was there.

  “Angel,” he said, and he came right up to me.

  “She’s fine,” said Silky. “And don’t touch; you know better. In getting Angel down the mountain, Trey’s done enough touching for both of you.”

  Silky had a serious want of tact.

  Renn looked as if he would take pleasure out of hitting Trey. Trey held up both hands, as if expressing innocence and a desire to placate. “She was unconscious,” he said. “She needed to be moved.”

  “Are you all right, Angel?” asked Renn.

  “Yes.” I was all right, but the ragged emotions roused by battle were causing all the underlying tensions of our journey to bubble to the surface.Zinda came into the tent. Jesse was right behind her. Silky made a move toward him, but I held her back, and a moment later he joined us. His face was smeared with dirt and blood, and I thought that in the heat of the moment he was going to touch Silky, but he observed decorum. Perhaps for her sake.

  Given a good long period of time, it was possible I might learn to like him.

  The wounded women called to Zinda, and she went to one or two cots. She was haggard, and there was blood on her hands and shirt. It was Lark who hurried over to tell us the news.

  “Caro’s dead,” Lark said. “She was killed in front of the pikes, and we haven’t been able to recover the body yet. Zinda’s been fighting as if she doesn’t care about dying anymore. I told her the wounded women needed to see her. ”

  “Maybe she really doesn’t care about dying,” I said. Caro, I knew, had been like a sister to her.

  And I could understand that kind of love. I loved Silky, and I needed no explanation for that love any more than I needed to understand breathing in order to breathe. But I never let anyone else get close. Not even Trey.

  Not even Trey.

  Then Zinda was with us.

  “It’s time for you to go,” she said.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Jesse, wiping his face of blood and sweat.

  Zinda looked stern, but her words were gentle.

  “You’ve more than paid your debt to us,” she said. “But I realize now we have a debt to you. It’s as I said: you have to go.”

  “But Zinda,” said Silky. “We haven’t won yet.”

  “We will, Golden Hair,” said Zinda. “But those close to me are having no luck today, and you need to finish your quest. I’ve spoken with Bard Renn. You didn’t tell us the Lady Angel knows The Book of Forbidden Wisdom. That changes everything. Find it; make it yours; change all Arcadia. But forty more ‘Lidans will be here within the hour. You have to get out of here now.”

  The others looked at me curiously, and I knew they were wondering about The Book. But what Zinda said held truth: if I got to the deeds of the free lands, I could shape Arcadia as I wished. I could thank these women properly. If they lived, I could transform their lives.

  And Zinda was going to have her way no matter what; there was no gainsaying her in the wake of her terrible loss. We found that the horses had already been tacked up for us. Lark came to us with baskets of food, and I filled my saddlebags, as did the others.

  Silky examined the horsemeat as she put it away. “The poor thing didn’t even know it was a ‘Lidan horse,” she said. “It just got unlucky.”

  “Go on now,” said Zinda. “I have ‘Lidans to kill.” She sounded like a schoolteacher speaking to children.

  “Will you please tell the archers to watch their stance and to breathe out when they shoot?” said Silky.

  “I will, Golden Hair. We’ll keep the ‘Lidans very busy while you get out,” Zinda said. The set of her face was grim.

  I didn’t want to ask Zinda this, so I turned to Trey and murmured, “What do we do if some of the ‘Lidans get through the canyon to us?”

  But Zinda heard me.

  “None of them will get through,” she said.

  Once the road wove around a hill, I could no longer hear the noise of battle. The future seemed to open in front of me like a book waiting to be read, but the words were not words I knew, and the letters were not from our world.

  When we came out from behind the hill, we could hear the sounds of battle on the wind again, and we could see great carrion crows circling far behind us.

  “The ‘Lidans will be on us soon,” said Trey. “We should move farther north.”

  “Zinda said the ‘Lidans won’t make it through,” s
aid Silky.

  “They’re women, Silky,” said Renn, “fighting with brooms and rocks against trained soldiers. Before the day ends, all those from the village will be dead.”

  “Not Zinda,” said Silky. “Not Lark.”

  At that moment, Renn seemed dark. Not dark and seductive. Just dark.

  We were sheltered from the road by some trees, but we pulled even farther back into the brush, because suddenly there were hoofbeats on the road—­erratic hoofbeats, as if a horse was scrambling at a gallop in fear.

  It burst into the opening.

  I never want to see a horse in that condition again. Its saddle had swung down under its belly and was terrifying it into running harder, which made the saddle bang more at its underside, which made it run. Its eyes were wild and red, and sweat and foam streamed down its neck and flanks. I saw the colors of Garth’s House on its bridle, and then it was gone, galloping south on the great Arcadia road.

  “The battle’s over,” I said.

  No ‘Lidans followed the horse. No more horses came.

  “They weren’t—­“ Silky spoke softly, but we all stopped what we were doing so that we could hear what she had to say. Silky swallowed and then spoke again.

  “Those women,” she said. “They weren’t very broken at all.”

  Chapter Twenty-­six

  A Surprise Encounter

  The following day, we had stopped for a drink of water and a bit of dried fruit when two riders came out from under the trees behind us. We had passed right by them.

  The riders were both women. The one in front was lightly veiled and dressed modestly in sober colors. There was little remarkable about these women other than the fact that they had no chaperone.

  And that they had been hiding.

  They began coming toward us, but before they could reach us, I had leapt from Jasmine. Silky lowered her bow, and I heard her gasp. I ran to Niamh, and she dismounted into my arms.

  “Niamh,” I said.

  “Angel. I’ve missed you. And Silky, too, of course. How’s my son behaving?”

  I glanced at Silky. She blushed.

 

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