Shadow of the Serpent

by Shannah Jay

  'I found this one creeping down your back alley, spying on us, Pivithin,' the man said, shoving Jonner forward. 'But he doesn't stink of that incense, so I let him live a little longer.'

  'He's with me,' said Cheral. 'He too follows our Brother.'

  'So you say,' said the man, seeming almost part of the shadows.

  Pivithin came to lay a hand on Jonner's arm, stare into his eyes and nod. 'He's not of the Serpent.'

  'He really is a trader,' Cheral confirmed.

  'Hmm. So you say, but I've never seen either of you before tonight, and I know most of the traders who still come to Beldarik. Give the fellow one of the riding nerids, but keep an eye on him.' As he began to saddle a mount for himself, he asked, 'Did everyone manage to escape, my friend?'

  The thin man started saddling a nerid. 'Yes. Even the kitchen drudges. The plan worked perfectly.

  Those tunnels are marvellous. How the hell did you get them built without anyone noticing?'

  'They've been there a long time.'

  'They were built a hundred years and thirty years ago by Warral,' said Cheral. 'He married a Sister, and they were her escape route. She never had to use them, though.'

  'Someone thought well ahead, then,' said the assassin approvingly.

  Pivithin was staring at Cheral. 'How did you know about that?'

  'I told you. I'm of Warral's line.' She changed the subject. 'You were exceptionally well prepared for trouble tonight. I don't think I've ever seen people so quick to scatter and flee.'

  'We've known for a while that it was coming to an end.'

  'Known what was coming to an end?' asked Jonner.

  'I'll tell you later.' Pivithin tightened a last strap and swung round to watch Cheral fumble with her harness. He took it from her and adjusted it. 'You're no rider.'

  She shook her head. 'No. But I shall manage to stay on this beast for as long as needed to escape. My body and will are strong enough for that. But - '

  Jonner edged forward. He’d made no attempt to saddle a nerid and now interrupted to ask, 'What about Narla? Someone will have to go back into Beldarik for her. I'm not leaving her to fall into those wrigglers'

  hands. And I'm not leaving my wagon there for them to steal, either.'

  Cheral nodded. 'I was about to ask Pivithin here if he could help us get word to her to flee. I'm afraid I can't see any way of you retaining the wagon, though.'

  'I'm not just giving it up,' Jonner insisted. 'And besides, we need to warn the deleff. Those devils might even attack them if they're angry enough. The Serpent's very strong in this city.' He folded his arms, stubbornness in every line of his body.

  'Curse it, you're nothing but trouble.' Pivithin glared at him for a moment.

  Jonner glared right back. 'I mean it. Would you abandon your family?'

  Pivithin sighed, but shook his head.

  'I'll go back with him,' said the assassin. 'Pity to leave anyone in their hands. I can dress as a woman if I have to.' He turned to Jonner. 'We'll go back through the fields and then I know a useful little route through the sewers. Not dainty, but it's served me a few times.'

  'All right.' Jonner started to move away, then turned back. 'There's another thing, Pivithin. Me an' my friend here agreed publicly that I'd buy a wagonload of produce. Any chance of you sending something into town tomorrow? Doesn't much matter what, but if it's sellable, it'll lend weight to my story.'

  Pivithin nodded. 'Yes, I can do that.' He stared at Jonner and added reluctantly, 'Good thinking. They'd have noticed a detail like that. They're very good on details since our new Lord of the Inner Shrine took over. Sent up from Setheron specially to pull us into line, he was. He's a devil in human form. Before he came, the Servants wouldn't have noticed what I was doing - well, not for a while yet, anyway.'

  'What were you doing?'

  'Organising the resistance to the Serpent, helping people escape, that sort of thing.'

  Jonner swallowed hard. 'No wonder they were after you. Let's hope I can fool them that you’re nothing to do with me. I don't want to be dragged into any Inner Shrine.' As he and the assassin started walking back round the edges of the field, he sighed. Never had he sought to become a hero and his guts turned to water at the mere thought of going back into that den of wrigglers. But Narla was still back there. His Narla. He couldn't abandon her. He just couldn't. 'Thank goodness it's a dark night,' he muttered.

  'Autumn darks,' said his laconic companion. 'In the old days we'd have had a nice festival to entertain us and streets full of people to hide among. Now there's nothing but pain and obedience. How quietly can you move, by the way? We're coming to a dangerous bit.'

  'Very quietly if I have to.' Jonner proved his point and got a nod of approval.

  When they got to edge of the market square all was quiet. They stopped to confer. 'Can you get across to that wagon without being seen?' Jonner asked, pointing to his wagon. 'I'll go openly. Pretend I'm drunk.

  Distract their attention. Tell Narla I sent you.'

  When he looked round again, the assassin had vanished and he was alone in the shadows. A shiver ran down his spine. He looked round. How best to do this? Loudly and openly would be best, he decided. As if he had nothing to hide. He staggered forward, feigned a trip and clutched at the nearest wall. 'It's a cursed dark night,' he said loudly, slurring his words. 'An' those bitches have moved the wagon again.'

  Before he could take another step, a voice yelled, 'Halt!'

  He halted and stood there swaying and blinking in the light from a lantern. 'Whassamatta? Where'd my wagon go?'

  'More to the point, where did you go when you left Pivithin's tonight?'

  Jonner leaned forward confidentially, still holding on to the wall, as if for support. 'Went for a piss.

  Goes right through you, that ale does. Heard the noise of an upset an' ran away. Don't wanna get into any fighting. Can't be too careful these days. Us traders don' wanna get mixed up with anything that spells trouble.'

  'You ran away! Where to? It's a couple of hours since the fracas at the inn.'

  Jonner pursed his lips in a sullen pout.

  The man brought his lantern closer to Jonner's face. 'You'd better tell me, fellow.'

  'I don't know. If y'will keep movin' the cursed streets about, how can you espec' us traders to find our way around. An' no one would help me. Whassit comin' to when an honest trader can't get directions? It's dark, too. What've y'done with th'moons? Eh? What've you done with 'em?' He swayed backwards and forwards, missed the wall and flailed his hand in a vain attempt to clutch the market keeper's arm. With a loud 'Hey! Don' push me!' he sat down suddenly.

  By this time, the awnings had been lifted on most of the wagons. A chuckle floated across the square.

  'He's drunk again,' said a man's voice. 'Told you what he was like. Famous for it, he is.'

  The market keeper turned round sharply and the voice cut off as the awnings all dropped down again.

  He turned back to find Jonner crawling across the square in the wrong direction and strode over to haul him to his feet and shake him. 'Where do you think you're going?'

  'Back t'my wagon. They've moved it. An' someone keeps trippin' me up. Gotta find my wagon again.'

  The keeper snorted in disgust and began to drag a loudly protesting Jonner across the square.

  'Oh, no!' Jonner burped a couple of times and clutched his mouth. 'Gonna be sick.' The keeper threw him away and Jonner fell to his knees to thrust his finger quickly down his throat and vomit loudly into the gutter.

  'Disgusting!' said the keeper. 'Here, you two women. Come and fetch your man back. I'm not touching him again in that condition.' He felt his dark robe for dampness. If that fellow had vomited over him, there would be real trouble. But his robe was clean and dry.

  Narla crept out of the wagon, followed by a plump woman Jonner would have sworn was Cheral.

  'Sorry, honoured sir,' whispered the plump figure.

  'That'll be another fine for drunkenness.
Ten coins. Tell him when he wakes up. If he tries to leave without paying there'll be trouble.'

  'We'll tell him, honoured sir.' Between them they supported Jonner, whose legs were wobbling and threatening to let him down. They had to persuade him across to the wagon. When he got there, he pushed them away and stuck his finger down his throat and for the second time managed to give a noisy impression of a man vomiting.

  'And clear that mess up before you leave!' roared the market keeper, going back to his cubicle.

  In the morning, a white-faced Jonner continued to trade, wincing visibly at any loud noise, and when a countryman drove up later with a small wagon of produce, he accepted it and paid over some coins. Then he moved across to the watcher. 'Er - the women said I had to pay another fine.'

  'Ten coins. Drunken sot!'

  Jonner shook out the rest of his purse into his hand, picking among the coins, to find himself a bit short. With an exclamation of dismay he began to search through his pockets, finding a couple more coins.

  'Is that enough?' he asked, knowing full well that he'd given the man over twelve full coins worth of small change.

  'Just.' The keeper pocketed the money.

  'Is it all right if we leave now?' Jonner gave a sickly smile. 'I think I'll be better for some fresh mountain breezes.'

  'Are you always such a drunkard?'

  Jonner shrugged. 'I like my ale. It's no crime, is it? And that was the best ale I'd tasted in a long time.'

  'Well, make the most of the memory. Pivithin won't be making any more ale.'

  Jonner gaped. 'Why not?'

  'Because he's dead, that's why not. We killed him last night. And all his family with him. That's what we do to traitors.' He laughed at Jonner's expression of fright. 'It won't be long now until we find out how to manage these deleff, too, then you traders will have to pay your dues to the Serpent.'

  He had waved one hand in the direction of the deleff as he spoke and now they raised their snouts and blared forth a cacophony of noise that had Jonner clutching at his head and groaning.

  'Cursed animals!' The keeper turned back to Jonner. 'Where are you heading now?'

  'South-west. Thought I'd go into Peneron. Fellow said there was trouble up north.'

  'Trouble for those who oppose us. Remember that. The time's coming when the shadow of the Serpent will fall across the whole land. Until then we need to keep vigilant against those unnatural hags and their followers.'

  Jonner ducked his head. 'Yes, honoured sir.'

  Behind him the two deleff walked out of the market field and moved into their harness, tossing their heads. As they started to move off without waiting for him, Jonner said a hasty farewell and hurried to catch up with his wagon. How did the deleff know that he'd told the market keeper he was heading south-west? How could they possibly have known to move out in that direction? He shivered as he swung himself on board, and huddled alone on the driving seat. Sometimes, it was all too much for an honest trader.

  Not until they were well south of the city did the deleff swing round and move into a patch of forest.

  Then Jonner turned to exchange relieved glances with Narla and the assassin. 'You don't think Pivithin really is dead, do you?' he asked his new companion.

  'I doubt it. He's a wily one, is old Pivithin. And we saw for ourselves that he'd escaped last night. Those of the Serpent often claim they've killed people when we know for certain they've escaped. But even if he is dead, it's better to die fighting than to go over to the Serpent. We all have to die some time, don't we? Can't live for ever. I just hope the Sisters are right an' we get born again. There are a few things I'd like to do that I haven't managed this time.'

  Jonner was only half paying attention. 'What shall we do if they've captured Cheral?' he worried aloud.

  'Is she your mother, the old one?'

  'My wife's mother. An' she's a clever woman. I don't know how we'll go on without Cheral.'

  'Well, don't look at me, unless you've got some coin hidden away. I've been paid to get you to the rendezvous, not to take the place of your mother. After I've led you there what you do is your own business - unless you need the services of a good assassin?'

  Jonner shook his head and huddled down in his blanket. It was dark, but the deleff made no attempt to stop for the rest of the night. It was raining again and water was dripping in through the opening in the awning, huge drops splattering down from the foliage as the wagon brushed against it. You could keep Beldrian, as far as he was concerned. A more miserable place he’d never visited. He hoped he’d never have to come here again.

  When Narla came to sit next to him, he hugged her close, feeling comforted by the soft warmth of her body. 'Brother, look down,' he muttered. 'And bring us safely back to Cheral.'

  'Brother, look down,' she echoed as she laid her head on Jonner's shoulder. 'He will, you know, Jonner.

  Our Brother will surely bless what we're doing.'

  Jonner nodded. What could you say to people who believed so firmly that they were not alone in this life, who believed anything was possible with their Brother's help? There was nothing you could say. You just had to nod and smile and do your best to keep an eye on them, for their own good. They were too trusting. You should never be that trusting.

  And why had Pivithin sent him a crop of white-bulbs? There was no profit to be made from whitebulbs, which were common everywhere. His face brightened. Still, he'd paid nothing for them, so perhaps he’d be able to squeeze just a little profit out of selling them for once, even at a low price. His frown returned. What was the point in making a profit if those devils were going to fine you every time you entered a city to trade?

  He sighed and cuddled closer to Narla, and within minutes he was asleep, his head lying trustingly in her lap.

  CHAPTER 25 TRACES OF EVIL

  'Aah!' Robler stared at the tracer as if he could read secrets in the smooth black surface. 'Well done, Met.

  Well done!' His hand curved around the slim black box possessively.

  'The tracking program still only works intermittently,' Met warned. 'You can't rely on it to hold fast for long.'

  'But you can rely on it to broadcast long enough for us to track them more accurately afterwards, even though we can't always follow every move,' Robler finished for him, his fingers stroking the smooth surface.

  'Yes. It's an interesting application of uncertainty circuits in the master controls. It needs a lot more work and development, though. You really can't rely on it to function steadily, Exec.'

  'No, I understand that. But you've done well, Met. Very well. I doubt a com-engineer could have done better.'

  Met nodded, accepting the praise because it was his due. 'I think it's because I'm a mathematician, not a com-engineer, that I succeeded.'

  'Well, you'll have earned yourself a commendation and bonus for this if we ever return to Central. And you've probably made it more likely that we shall be able to return.'

  Met smiled and inclined his head in thanks, then went back to his duties. If his invention made it possible for them to return to a more civilised life style quickly, he would be well rewarded. This satellite was the worst place in which he had ever served, and the planet they had come to observe was a crazy place, which utterly defied logic. That made Met very uncomfortable at times. It was just not right. A total embargo should be placed upon Sunrise, and would be if he had his way.

  But unlike his Exec, Met loathed the evil cult that now dominated the planet and he resented it when his duties forced him to observe the goings-on in those filthy shrines. He had seen the gloating expression on Robler's face, though, when the Exec observed with him, seen it often. He was now pretty sure that Robler was mentally unbalanced and in urgent need of a medi-psych's help. However, the way to sort that out was the way specified in the regulations. You had to go through the proper channels in these matters, not act illogically by joining those down on the planet as Davred, Soo and Mak had done.

  Outright rebellion only
caused more trouble. It solved nothing. Regulations and procedures were there to be followed. They had been developed by Confex over the years. Such regulations were what kept society together. Only primitives followed their instincts and lived unordered lives. Met was sure of that. Utterly sure.

  On his world, cults like the Serpent could not even have started, because everyone would have laughed at the mere idea. Why he did not laugh now, why the Serpent was making such progress down there on Sunrise, worried him and had caused him many sleepless nights.

  There should definitely be an embargo on this planet. But whatever the authorities did, when Tem got back to Confex Central he intended to apply for a home posting. He'd had enough of all this barbarism. It was even tainting Those of the Confederation, tainting a man as experienced and capable as Robler. It was amazing, amazing and frightening.

  CHAPTER 26 INTO THE JAWS OF DANGER

  Jonner wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. 'I can hear something.'

  Narla stared at him. 'What?'

  'I don't know.' He slid down from the driving seat into the rear of the wagon and began to fumble through his possessions, muttering to himself. 'Ah!' He picked up a slim black box which fitted neatly into the palm of his hand and held it to his ear. 'Is anyone there?'

  Narla watched him in amazement. 'What are you doing?'

  'It's the tracer. Davred gave it to me. I'd nearly forgotten about it. Do you suppose he's trying to call us?'

  Jonner climbed back up on to the driving seat and showed her the box.

  She fingered its smooth surface. 'It's hissing. Just every now and then. There! It's started again.' She gave it back to him, not liking the feel of it, she knew not why.