Shadow of the Serpent

by Shannah Jay

  Although her companions knew and loved her, when they saw her eyes glow with that other light, they couldn’t help feeling a sense of awe.

  'Lead us, Elder Sister,' said Davred, in the half-chanting tone normally used only in temple ceremonials.

  'Lead and we shall follow,' echoed Ivo, then flushed to find his the only voice raised.

  Herra blinked at him, saw his embarrassment and said softly, 'You spoke the response correctly, Ivo. Your parents raised you to know our Brother's ways. All honour to them.'

  Ma would be pleased about that, thought Ivo, wishing Ma were here right now. She’d have treasured the memory of a meeting with Herra of Tenebrak all her days.

  Alaran sighed. 'I wish I could see one of the temples in use. They sound to be very beautiful places. Those of the Serpent bring ugliness with them, and harsh sorrow, too. And we can't stop to help people or heal them, can we, Herra? We have to save our powers for healing the source of the evil, the fissure that lets darkness into this world.'

  Herra swung round to stare at him. 'How do you know about that?'

  'The deleff all know. Erlic told me about it when we were in Outpost. Erlic's one of them - but one of us, too. He has a hard task in this life, a double burden.'

  Silence greeted this remark. Davred exchanged glances with Herra, but said nothing. If he were to comment on the strange things his son occasionally said, Alaran might grow self-conscious about them, and not share his mysterious moments of understanding.

  Herra moved to lay her hand on Alaran's arm. 'You shall see a temple one day, child, and join in the dancing you love so much,' she promised. And you shall also become a healer, she added mentally. You have the aptitude for that, and more, being Katia and Davred's son, born of a tradition that stretches back to the illustrious Deverith, first Manifestation of our God. She smiled, lightening the tension of the moment. 'In the meantime, we must make our way towards Setheron.'

  Only Davred dared to voice a protest. 'But Those of the Serpent are strongest of all in Setheron. I’d have thought it the last place to risk yourself, Elder Sister. I’d expected us to head towards Garshlian and then further north.'

  She answered obliquely, as she often did. 'We must all die. And when my time comes, I shall rejoin my Brother joyfully.' She paused, and it was as if she could hear temple chimes echoing in the distant reaches behind her words. She never told people how much she missed the beauty and peace of the temple, how she relived the ceremonies sometimes in her imagination to give herself strength to carry on. She ran through a quick discipline to steady herself and when she started speaking again, her voice was as calm as ever. 'We must make our way towards Setheron if we’re to rescue the boy. Our Brother will guide us along the right path when we reach that claim.'

  Again it was Davred who asked, 'Don’t you know where the boy is hidden, then, Herra?'

  'Not now. He was sent to the most distant of the crèches, for safety, but Sen-Sether found and destroyed even that. I know that Petur is still alive, though. I’d been wondering how to find a trader's wagon, so that we could get to Setheron, but now that Soo and Ivo have turned up, we have our opportunity.' She turned the full force of her magnificent hazel eyes on Ivo. 'Will you take us to Setheron in your wagon, my friend? Will you risk your own life in our cause?'

  He nodded without any hesitation. 'Yes, of course. I've seen the sorrow and destruction the Serpent spreads across the land. If I'm needed, I shall do what I can.' He paused, then added in a more normal tone of voice, 'But I'm afraid of what we might meet there, Herra. I'm not a fighting man; I'm just a trader. I feel that I'm unworthy.'

  Davred stiffened.

  Herra smiled.

  Ivo continued to shake his head. 'Yes, unworthy. I'm so - so ordinary, so lacking in skills - and Gifts.'

  'But we need you,' Herra said.

  'Yes. So I'll do my best. But I just wanted to warn you that I'm not worthy of such an honour.'

  Davred and Herra both stepped forward to clasp his arms. 'The Triple Proof,' she said. 'Three times you’ve denied your worthiness, Ivo, son of Giff. That's the way it is with us. Dear friend, will you join our Kindred?

  Will you give your life to our quest?'

  Ivo gulped and stared at them. 'Is that truly your wish, Elder Sister.'

  'Most truly. And our Brother's wish, too.' She gave him one of her special smiles, the smiles that made people love both her and the God who was always shining within her. 'You're not unworthy, Ivo. I dislike men who love to fight. They bring sorrow to those around them. Fighting and the use of force should be kept for the last resort. Then they should be used as sparingly as possible. But they shouldn’t be avoided altogether

  - as we in the Sisterhood have found to our cost. Maybe the Kindred will manage things better in the years to come.' She clapped her hands briskly together. 'So, my friends, let us gather our things together and thank Nedar for his help.'

  'And Feera,' said Alaran.

  'How can we do that?' queried Davred. 'Feera speaks to us only when we're out on the ocean.'

  'But he watches everything that happens on the sea, even here, at the edge of the land.'

  'How do you know that?' Herra asked.

  Alaran shrugged. 'I like Feera. He used to talk to me when you were all busy. He made me laugh.' He considered the problem, his head on one side, in a gesture that twisted Davred's heart, so much did it remind him of Katia. 'We could stand at the seaward rail of the boat and call out our thanks to him. Our voices would echo across the water. I think that might be enough.'

  And so it was done. Thunder rolled across the sea after they’d spoken their words of gratitude and farewell, a low rumbling sound that had a hint of a chuckle in it.

  'Feera's still out there, watching,' said Nedar, who had stopped to listen to them. 'Good. We may need his help again to get away from here.'

  Davred went to sit in the rear of the wagon with Alaran, while the three others rode at the front. Together, he and his son watched the last sparkle of sun on water as the sea was left behind. He’d miss its beauty. The simul-chambers hadn’t been nearly as good.

  And Feera. What a surprise to find such a being! How many more surprises and anomalies would they find on this planet? he wondered. Nothing here seemed to follow the laws of science he’d been taught. The Sisters didn't even acknowledge the existence of such restrictions as immutable laws of science - and for them the laws didn't seem to exist. It’d taken him a while to overcome the teachings that coloured his view of the universe and curtailed the possibilities for him, and he felt those beliefs still hampered his use of his Gifts.

  Now, at least, he tried to take nothing for granted. There was an old saying in the Confederation, 'It's all in the mind.' Perhaps that had more truth in it than people realised.

  But it still didn't explain the anomalies here. He’d seen the survey maps and holograms of the different continents on Sunrise on the satellite, but when he’d travelled into the Lands of Nowhere himself, he had found them nothing like the barren wastes the Confederation observers had observed and catalogued. On Sunrise there was always something waiting round the corner to surprise you. Often, dealing with it called on something inside you, some internal fortitude that made you surprise yourself.

  And, he smiled to himself as a last thought slid into his brain: it was much more interesting that way. Life -

  no, he corrected, lives - stretched before you with limitless possibilities. That was wonderful. How could you not believe in the God your Brother on Sunrise? He’d never felt such joy about anything when he lived in the Confederation.

  * * *

  The great wagon rumbled along a narrow track through the wildwoods. Herra was sitting on the driving bench, lost in thought, Davred and Alaran were chatting quietly in the rear and Soo was walking beside the wagon with Ivo, who was gathering the occasional plant and explaining their value and use to her.

  Suddenly the deleff stopped dead in their tracks and began to snort and shuffle their
feet. Herra sat up and cast her consciousness ahead, to see what was upsetting the deleff.

  'There's someone coming this way,' she said, 'some people in great pain and sorrow. Can we go forward to help them, my friends?'

  The deleff remained where they were, shaking their heads from side to side and blowing gusts of hot angry breath through their flaring nostrils.

  Davred moved to the front of the wagon. 'Do you sense danger for us, Herra?'

  'I can't tell. The distress is so great it blocks everything else out. I've never sensed anything quite like it before, not outside a shrine, anyway.'

  Ivo moved to stand beside the two deleff. 'I can hear something coming. It sounds like a trader's wagon, drawn by deleff. You can't mistake that sound.'

  Their own deleff still refused to move forward and it was a few minutes before the other wagon appeared, rolling along very slowly indeed. The approaching deleff were quite young and, from the way they were stumbling and tossing their heads, they were upset. There was no one on the driving seat, but a child's face peered over the top of it, then ducked down as it caught sight of them. The face had been dirty and tear-stained, and the mouth had made an O shape of pure terror.

  A woman stood up, holding on to the driving bench as she studied them. Her face was puffy and red with tears and her eyes were pools of deep anguish. She, too, radiated terror.

  Ivo moved forward to greet her, as he would any trader he encountered on his travels.

  Davred looked at Herra, but she made no effort to stop this. She was listening with that inner Healer's sense.

  The young deleff came to a halt when they reached Ivo's wagon. They couldn’t have passed it here on such a narrow track. As they moved out of their harness, Ivo's deleff did the same and came to stand with them, nose to nose. After a few moments, they too began to snort angrily, and then suddenly all four deleff trampled off into the wildwoods, leaving the humans staring after them.

  'Does this often happen?' Herra asked Ivo.

  'Not often, no. And rarely with deleff that have only just joined a trader. Those other two are young. They should be staying with the family for years yet.' He was frowning. 'I don't think we've done anything to upset our deleff, but they were distressed, too, and they're much older. There,' his voice faltered, 'must be trouble following.'

  The woman seemed at last to realise what was happening and jumped down from the strange wagon, rushing forward to tug at Ivo's arm. 'Can you help me? Oh, please, can you help me? My husband is near to death.'

  But Herra had walked forward past her and had already reached the second wagon. She clambered aboard at the tail end. 'Davred, attend me!' she called a moment later from its depths. 'Soo and Ivo, take these children away and give them some food.'

  Of his own accord, Alaran followed Davred. As his father mounted inside the wagon, he gulped and whispered, 'Brother, give me strength!' then he followed.

  The man who lay there face down was unconscious, which was perhaps a good thing. His back was cut to ribbons, with the marks of the whip quite clear in the red pulpy mess of flesh, and the bones were showing here and there.

  'No time for anger!' said Herra sharply. 'Gather with me now, Davred.'

  'Let me gather, too,' said Alaran, pale but determined. 'I can lend you my strength as well, Herra.'

  She nodded. 'Good lad.' She could have healed the man without help, but she wanted to keep as much of her own life energy as she could for afterwards. She could already sense that someone was following the newcomers, following very stealthily and keeping hidden in the forest around them. She prayed that these people wouldn’t attack them until she’d helped this poor soul.

  The woman stood hesitating at the back of the wagon.

  'What is your husband's name?' Herra asked, unaware of how imperious her voice had become.

  'Hathlim.'

  'Make no sound when we start. We can heal him best if you don't interrupt.' Herra held out her hand across that poor battered body as if to gauge the degree of pain, then reached out to grasp Davred and Alaran's hands. Kneeling at the man's feet, the youth completed the small circle, the first time he’d ever shared a healing.

  'We gather here to heal this man.' Herra's voice already carried an echo. 'Look down and help us, Brother of the World.'

  For a few moments only they held the mesh, feeling the surge of subliminal vibrations building up, then Herra let go of their hands to brush her fingertips gently across the bloodied back. She spoke as if the injured man could both see and hear her, a sign of respect she had once told Davred. No one should treat an injured person without that respect.

  'We shall heal you now, Hathlim. Lie still and let our life force enter you. Feel it - yes, feel it beginning. Feel your flesh start to tingle with new life. Flesh be whole and spirit be healed. Flesh be whole - new - unmarked.

  Spirit stand up and know that hope is still in the world. Come back from the edge of darkness, Hathlim. You are not alone now.'

  Her voice continued to whisper soft words into the pool of vibrant stillness that the healing circle had created and before their eyes the flesh began to knit together. From shoulder to buttocks new flesh grew across the raw grooves. Flesh joined flesh and skin spread across Hathlim's back like a flower unfurling its softest pink petals, till the back was covered again.

  Although the physical healing was soon complete, Herra continued to chant. 'You can return to us now, Hathlim. Your wife and family await you. They're safe. Safe in the forest. Safe with me. Bring your spirit back from the void. Spirit be healed - be healed - be healed. Return to us, Hathlim.'

  As the man began to stir, she laid one hand on his head in benison and her voice lost its echo as she said,

  'Dear friend, you are safe now and your wife is longing to embrace you.' She gestured to Davred and Alaran to leave the wagon, then sat back as the woman clambered on board.

  The woman's voice was trembling as she whispered, 'Hathlim?'

  He rolled over on to his back and as his eyes found those of his wife, he sobbed and held out his arms.

  'Miralla! Oh, Miralla, am I really alive still?'

  Herra left the wagon and enfolded Davred and Alaran in a crushing embrace.

  'You did well, Elder Sister,' said Davred. 'You healed him very quickly.

  Her face shadowed. 'That was because danger is following him. Those of the Serpent. I can sense the taint, even at a distance. They must have at least one Initiate with them. And,' her frown deepened, 'something utterly evil is following behind them.'

  'Must we stand and fight?'

  'Yes. We must stand and fight. But we're outnumbered. Badly outnumbered. And I can’t foretell the outcome.' She straightened her shoulders and determination radiated from her. 'Well, let's see what we can find to use as weapons.'

  But their pursuers didn’t launch a physical attack; they simple came and stood around the wagons in the shadow of the great trees, waiting. The minutes passed and the line of men grew by ones and twos as others slipped out of the forest to join them. And they remained there, watching, with gloating expressions on their faces, a circle of pure evil.

  In Ivo's wagon, the trader's children crouched down behind the driver's bench, too afraid even to whimper. Soo crouched beside them, fear crawling along her veins and clamping down on her muscles. She’d faced Those of the Serpent before and been afraid, but this time that fear was magnified beyond measure, and the feeling of helplessness caused a dark shivering mass of terror to build up within her. She couldn’t fight, had never learned, never expected to need to fight. She was small and one strong man would easily be able to overcome her. She was lost, lost, lost.

  Fear continued to gather inside her and she huddled against the children, feeling her limbs trembling, her very soul panicking. Suddenly, the back flap of the wagon was torn aside and someone grasped her shoulder and shook her hard. She jerked upright in shock, whimpering in her throat.

  But it was Herra. Almost as small as Soo, but upright and proud in h
er defiance of that encroaching fear.

  'Come out of the wagon at once, Soo Chen, and bring something to defend yourself. Do not let this fear crawl within you. To fear for one's life is to lose it a hundred times.' Her voice softened and lost its echoing tone.

  'Come, Soo. We must all face our enemies. Those who run from peril are lost indeed.'

  Soo could almost see the fear receding, feel herself straightening, feel the tremor leave her hands. Puzzled by this, she moved out of the wagon. On the way, she picked up a frying pan, for she couldn’t somehow bear to think of wielding a knife and slicing into someone's flesh.

  The line of men kept their distance, but triumph was tangible around them, displayed in the arrogance of their stance, glittering in their eyes, especially the eyes of those wearing the dark robes of Servants of the Shrine.

  Herra ignored them. 'They’ve learned how to cast fear and terror around them,' she explained softly as she walked with Soo towards the space between the wagons. 'If they can terrorise their victims before they even touch them, it makes things easier. And they enjoy it.'

  'This must be why the deleff ran away,' said Davred. 'They loathe violence.' He stirred the ground beneath his foot with one dusty toe. 'And there's no hope of Quequere coming to our help this time. The ground isn't rocky.'

  'So, we must call upon our Brother and help ourselves,' said Herra. 'Brother, look down!' she cried suddenly. 'Look down upon us!' The words rippled through the air as if they had life of their own.

  There was a murmur of anger from the line of men, but still they made no move to take the victims caught so neatly in the trap.

  'Let us gather,' said Herra, her voice as tranquil as if they were inside Temple Tenebrak. She sank to the ground in one graceful movement and held out her hand for Davred to join her.

  He set down his club - what good could that do him anyway against so many, anyway? - and took hold of Herra's hand. His eyes jerked open in astonishment as he touched her, because the current of energy flowing through her jolted along his arm in a surge of sheer power. Hope flickered in his eyes as he turned his head, holding out his hand to his son.