Shadow of the Serpent

by Shannah Jay

  If it had been left to Robler, Those of the Serpent could have stormed the temples in the capital cities of each claim and razed them to the ground. He wouldn’t have lifted a finger to help the Sisterhood. But Davred had gone over his head and gained permission from Confex to distribute stasis cubes and preserve the temples. What a fool the fellow was!

  And those stupid primitives had a lot to answer for, too, the way they had suborned Davred, stealing his much-needed skills from the Confederation at a time when it needed all its most gifted citizens. Worst of all, Davred's defection had shown Robler, who had stood as special guardian to him on behalf of the Confederation, in a bad light. Robler would never, ever forgive him for that.

  Davred was a Cathartic Agent, or would be when he matured, which he would never do on this primitive mudball. The fellow allegedly had the potential to stimulate major changes that would help turn the Confederation planets back on to more normal and peaceful paths. Or so the Confex experts said. Robler wasn’t so sure. Even the most careful testing programmes could go wrong. Had gone wrong when Robler himself had been tested and hadn’t quite made the grade as a CA. He wasn’t at all impressed by either Davred's skills or his emotional maturity. How could Davred do anything while he stayed down there on Sunrise and let those old hags of the Sisterhood tell him what to do and think?

  Robler consoled himself with the thought that if he couldn't get a precise fix on the runaways' locations, then neither would they be able to get a fix on one another. At least Soo had been separated from Mak.

  * * *

  Below, on the planet, Mak's fumbling efforts to escape from the transcap eventually paid off. He managed to smash the hinge mechanism and lever open the lid of the transcap by force. As he started to fumble his way out, however, the small craft began to rock wildly and another branch broke beneath its weight. With a series of sickening jerks, the transcap crashed downwards, throwing Mak back into his seat with his sound arm trapped beneath him.

  There was a final tearing crashing sound, the world tilted sideways around him and the whole transcap jerked downwards, nose first, into the ground. The distance and speed of fall weren’t great enough to injure Mak seriously, for the branches which had slowed the transcap's descent grew low down on the tree trunk and the ground beneath was soft with years' accretions of rotting leaves and vegetation. However, the impact did jar his shoulder again and make him feel dizzy. He could only lie there, gasping at the waves of pain that racked his body.

  Only when the throbbing pain had subsided a little did Mak start trying to extricate himself from the wreckage. As he wriggled over the edge of the transcap, he fell to the ground and lay there for a few minutes, before pulling himself upright and leaning against the tree trunk to look around. He was in a dense forest, surrounded by huge trees that filtered the sunlight to a muted green. Below the canopy, shrubs and ground creepers of all sorts fought for every flicker of light and life.

  Despair filled Mak as he realised that there was no evidence at all of human intervention in this environment. The vegetation grew in wild tangles, layer upon thrusting layer, and the rotting leaves on the ground showed no signs of footprints. Above him shafts of sunlight flickered down through the hole the transcap had made among the branches. Around him, broken branches and crushed leaves littered the ground.

  This must be the wildwoods. Mak shuddered at the lush abundance, which was overwhelming for a someone who’d spent the past several years in a confined area. He’d never in his life been alone in a place like this, didn't know what might be lurking behind those green tangles and the thought of pushing his way through them filled him with apprehension.

  He fumbled for his personal com-unit and tried again to contact Soo, but there was still no electronic trace of the other transcap, and no response whatsoever from his wife.

  He sagged back against the tree trunk, bewildered and disoriented, totally and terrifyingly alone for the first time in his life. In desperation, he staggered across to the transcap and checked its more sophisticated communication equipment yet again. Soo, who was a brilliant com-engineer, had modified it to link the two transcaps. There should be some sign of her transcap, some indication of the direction in which it lay.

  But there was nothing, not the slightest flicker of power.

  He sobbed in his throat. Where was she? How could he even begin to guess the direction in which Soo's transcap had flown after the satellite's tractor beams broke the linkage between them? How would he know which way to travel? He might be moving away from her and he’d never know it.

  Worst of all, he did not know whether his wife was alive. 'Soo,' he whispered, as if her name were a talisman. 'Oh, Soo, where are you?'

  Choking back sobs he fought the urge to give way to his anguish. He must try to reason his way through this dilemma. He’d always been taught that reason would prevail over everything, that only savages gave way to their emotions. But more sobs shook him. Resting his throbbing head against the massive trunk of the tree, for the first time since he was a very small child, he began to weep. The deep, racking sobs hurt his chest and hot tears seemed to scald his cheeks. He hadn’t known that he could so quickly lose all self-control, that it could hurt so much!

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw the foliage at the other side of the clearing move. He stiffened, and dashed the tears away from his eyes, staring. Was it an animal? Wasn't there something called a lenril in the high reaches? He waited, not daring to move. Would it attack him? Would he have to try to fight it off? How did you try to fight off a wild animal?

  One of the low spreading bushes rustled and quivered, then a figure stepped out of it and stood staring at him, a human figure.

  He let out his breath in a whistle of relief. A woman. But as she made no attempt to approach him, he began to worry again. If she was of the Serpent, he’d be in deep trouble. 'Er - I've had an accident,' he said in halting Sunril. 'Can you help me?'

  'What is that thing?' she asked, pointing to the transcap. She made no attempt to approach him.

  'It's - er - ' he remembered the words the Sisters had used when Davred fed down to the planet, 'it's a flying chariot.'

  She gasped loudly, then moved forward a cautious step or two, clearly poised to run away if he tried to attack her.

  'I've hurt my arm,' he said in galactic, then realised his mistake and repeated the words in Sunril.

  She took a couple more steps forward. She was dressed in grey-green leathers that blended well with the vegetation, tight-fitting garments. If she'd been a Sister, she'd have been wearing blue robes and then he'd have known he was safe.

  'You aren’t from this claim.' She spoke slowly, watching him carefully.

  'No.' He moved incautiously and banged his hand on the tree-trunk, unable to prevent a mew of pain. He rocked to and fro until it had subsided, fighting back more sobs. Everything seemed so alien, and his head was spinning, and -

  'Peace, friend, you aren’t alone.' She came right up to him and laid one hand on his arm.

  'Who are you?' Mak was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. 'Are you - are you - ' He hesitated, wondering whether he dared ask her if she was of the Sisterhood. 'Do you know a man called Davred?'

  She nodded, relief visible in her face. 'I don't know the Lord Davred personally, but I am of the Sisterhood and I know of him.' She watched him as she said the word 'Sisterhood'.

  'Oh, thank heavens!' He clutched her arm. 'Can you please tell me how to find Davred - or Herra - or Katia?' The words were still coming to him slowly, but he was speaking fairly accurately, he thought. And she seemed to be understanding him.

  'No, my friend, I'm afraid I can't.' She saw his face fall as she shook her head. 'In times like these, we have a scatter and flee routine, and we deliberately lose contact with our Sisters so that none may betray another inadvertently. Come with me. You're hurt and in need of comfort and healing. Afterwards, you shall tell us your story. I'm sure we'll be able to find some way to help you. We h
ave a saying: there is always a path through the thorn grove.'

  He stumbled through the undergrowth behind her, unable to walk as quietly as she did. Twigs snapped beneath his feet; thorns tore at his clothing; as he tripped, he trampled on tender young plants; and more than once he bumped his head against a low branch or barked his knuckles against the rough surface of a tree trunk. The Sister helped him as much as she could, but they had to walk in single file and all she could do was warn him of major obstacles and hidden dangers. He could see that his ignorance puzzled her. Well, he couldn’t help that. He had never before been in such a wild, fearsome place.

  By the time they reached the Sisters' overnight camp deep in the wildwoods, Mak was so exhausted he could only sink to the ground and allow them to tend him as they would. He did rouse briefly as the Sister who’d rescued him told him to lie down flat, so that she could heal his wounds. He’d long wanted to be present at a healing. Now it was happening to him and he was in too much pain to observe it properly or even think coherently!

  As the quiet voice murmured a soothing litany of instructions, he relaxed in spite of himself, staring in wonder at the tingling flesh knitting together before his eyes. Strange sensations were washing gently through him. Was that a faint humming he could hear, or was it only his imagination? The air around him seemed to be flickering, but he was so weary he couldn’t be sure of anything.

  It was a while before he realised the Sister had stopped speaking. 'How did you do that?' he croaked as the tingling in his body died away.

  Her voice held quiet amusement. 'Now is not the time to discuss that, my friend.'

  With his pain gone and his head as clear as exhaustion and despair would permit, Mak experienced for the first time the quiet composure of a Sister. He’d seen it in the holocube images in the satellite's com-room, but it was even more impressive in person. There seemed to be an aura of peace around the healer. It wrapped him round in love and comfort. Tiredness dragged at his limbs, but curiosity still fretted his mind. 'Look, please could you tell me - '

  She laid a gentle hand on his arm. 'Later we shall talk and you shall ask any questions you like. For the moment you must eat and drink, then you must sleep, my friend. Give your body a chance to recover, hmm?'

  Another Sister brought across a steaming bowl and started to spoon broth into his mouth as if he were a baby. He was too tired, much too tired, to protest.

  As she put the empty bowl down, he asked, 'Don't you even want to know who I am or how I got here?'

  'Not now. For the moment, what I want is to care for your body. Sleep now. There will be plenty of time to talk when you wake. Sleep. We shall still be here.' Her expression grew sadder. 'We shall be staying in the wildwoods for a long time, I'm afraid.'

  Before she’d finished speaking, his eyes began to close.

  When he did eventually wake, Mak experienced a moment's panic before he remembered where he was, then he lay quietly watching the busy scene, still snuggled under the blanket someone had spread over him. It seemed to be morning, for it was cooler and the light was growing brighter by the minute. Nearby, children were working quietly, some helping with the chores of the camp, others assisting the babies and toddlers to get dressed. Four Sisters with serene faces moved among the children, guiding their efforts, sometimes smiling at their young charges with tender warmth. All wore what Mak had once heard Katia call forest leathers, trousers and boots, with a form-fitting overblouse in some woven fibre and a sleeveless leather jerkin.

  It was a while before anyone noticed that the stranger was awake. When they did, the Sister Healer and an older boy came across at once to help him. Their grey-green leathers blended well with the forest around them. Even the small children were clad in dull garments, in colours which wouldn’t catch the eye, which would provide an inconspicuous backdrop to the flaunting foliage of the wildwoods. Mak was glad he and Soo had worn the khaki coveralls often used for trips down to new planets.

  'You'll want to wash and tend to your body's needs,' the Sister said. 'Aderon will help you, if you'll allow him.'

  Only when Mak was sitting eating a sort of nutty porridge did he remember the previous night more fully and pause to stare down at his hand. 'It's completely healed!' he exclaimed, trying to see a sign of the deep cut, and failing to find even the shadow of a scar.

  'Of course it is. Am I not a healer?' Amusement lurked in the Sister’s hazel eyes, and something else. Years of experience and more understanding than her youthful body should have given her.

  'How old are you?' he asked without thinking, then flushed in embarrassment. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I know Herra is over two hundred years old, but I still find that so hard to believe. You look about the same age as me, forty or so, and yet your eyes - they're not a young person's eyes.'

  'I'm a mere babe compared to Herra, for I'm only just over a hundred. And I take no offence at your question, my friend. Are you one of those who lived in the sky with the Lord Davred before he came down among us?'

  'Yes. My name is Mak. Among my people I, too, am a healer, but we have no skills to equal yours. We work with machines and - and with drugs - er - herbs and medicines.'

  'We sometimes work with our own life energies to help other people's bodies to heal themselves, as I did with you yesterday, but we also use herbs and medicines. We can’t always spare the energy to heal wounds fully, especially in these troubled times.'

  He scarcely knew which question to ask first, so many were jostling forward in his brain, so settled for the obvious one. 'What are you doing here in the wildwoods with all these children?'

  'Most of my Sisters had to flee from the city of Dyandrak when Those of the Serpent attacked our temple.

  I was in charge of our crèche outside the city. Some of them managed to join us there, but the troubles continued and the madness prevailed, so in the end, we too had to flee.'

  'The crèche was attacked?'

  'Not while we were there. Here in the northern claims the Serpent finds less support than in the south. We were warned of the coming of evil in time to flee, and we managed to save everyone. Now, we're on our way to set up a new crèche far out in the wildwoods.'

  'Won't that be very difficult? I mean, how will you manage for supplies?'

  She smiled, but there was deep sadness behind it. 'Such danger and dispersal are always prepared for.

  Whenever we build a new crèche, we always build outstations in case we have to abandon it. We have caches of supplies and coin hidden in various safe places across this Claim.' She saw Mak gaping at her in amazement. 'We Sisters plan for the distant future as well as for the present and the coming years. We make provision for every danger we can possibly foresee. That's why we've survived through several Ages of Discord. And shall survive this one, too.'

  He nodded. The more he knew about the Sisterhood, though Herra now called it a Kindred since men had been allowed to join, the more he admired it. The more he saw of Those of the Serpent, the more he knew that he must join in the fight against them, as any sane person would.

  'May I ask what you're doing here, my friend from the sky?'

  Mak felt he could tell this woman anything. That was how a medic should be, he realised suddenly, with the part of his mind that was always studying what was happening around him, including his own reactions. A medic should be a source of comfort and reassurance, a means of relaxing people so that their bodies could help to heal themselves. Not a cool machine-linked intellect that imposed healing from outside, as he’d been trained to do.

  He realised she was still waiting patiently for an answer. 'I'm fleeing from Discord, as you are. It's broken out among my people in the sky, as it has here. I set off with my wife in two transcaps - er, flying chariots - to come down to the Twelve Claims. When those on the satellite tried to pull us back, our transcaps were separated and flew through the air in different directions. And now I don't even know where Soo is.' He realised that his voice had wobbled, betraying hi
s anguish and paused to regain control over himself.

  Her hand was gentle on his. It seemed warmer than a hand should be and as the warmth crept along his arm, the sensation of comfort crept with it. 'That must grieve you bitterly.' Her eyes were soft with understanding.

  He could only nod, for if he tried to speak, he was afraid he might break down again. Worry about Soo was a bitter pain inside him, a worry that fretted him every second. He’d never loved any other human being as he loved Soo. His family would have been disgusted by such a feeling. To them it was primitive and wrong.

  But he was still amazed and delighted that a beautiful woman like Soo could find a quiet, dull man like him so attractive she’d want to spend the rest of her life with him.

  'Our Brother will watch over your wife.' The Sister squeezed his hand gently once more and then let go.

  'Now, if you’ll eat your nut porridge, my friend, we'll get ready to break camp. We can only travel slowly, with all the children to care for, and we still have a long way to go. Do you wish to come with us?'

  He stared at her, trying to think. What he really wished was to look for his wife, but until he’d recovered, until he’d learned how to fit in on this planet, he’d soon be in trouble if he tried to fend for himself. 'I thank you, Sister. I'd be grateful if you'd take me with you. I'll help you in any way I can as we travel.' Innate honesty made him add, 'If I can, that is.'

  She inclined her head in an elegant gesture.

  He’d observed from the satellite how gracefully the Sisters moved, but the simple gesture was achingly beautiful when experienced from close quarters. He’d never seen people so perfectly in control of their own bodies. Or felt loving warmth such as emanated from this woman.

  She patted his hand. 'Once you're fully recovered, my friend from the sky, we’ll welcome your help. For the moment, just look after yourself as we walk. And by the way, my name is Jandahal.'