Seeds of Rebellion

by Brandon Mull

  “Drake, the son of Hessit?” Halak exclaimed. “He accepted an invitation to Harthenham!”

  “And recently fought his way free,” Galloran added.

  “Very well,” Halak responded. “You are a man of no small reputation, Galloran. I will admit you and your companions. You will have your hearing before the Conclave. Be forewarned: It is possible that you are merely stalling your capture rather than evading it.”

  “We understand.”

  Halak gave a signal, and the iron-plated drawbridge clattered open, spanning the trench at the base of the wall. Galloran climbed back onto the horse with Rachel. As the group crossed the bridge, Rachel glanced down into the trench at the thicket of spikes.

  The wall was quite thick, with a pair of raised portcullises, and a huge gate standing open at the far side. In the paved yard beyond, many soldiers stood at attention, mostly clad in leather armor. A group of at least twenty sat astride horses. The men were mainly armed with swords and spears. Several women held longbows. They all had a portion of their hair rolled up at the nape of their necks. Jasher had once explained that the style helped conceal and protect their seeds.

  A succession of blasts came thundering up from lower in the gorge. Rachel looked back in distress. Rumbling echoes muddied the cannonade. After a few trailing blasts, the explosive clamor ended.

  Halak quickly descended a stone staircase, one hand resting on the hilt of a sword at his waist. A tall man with dramatic eyebrows, he strode over to the horses as Galloran dismounted.

  “Trouble follows you up the pass,” Halak said.

  Galloran faced him, speaking calmly. “Captain Halak, would you send riders to escort my friends who travel afoot?”

  “We’ve monitored the progress of your pursuers,” Halak replied. “If we sally forth, it could spawn a major confrontation.”

  “If you hesitate, imperial forces will murder friendly visitors in the pass outside of your gates. I understand that relations with Felrook are strained, but we both know that Maldor is no respecter of weakness. You will find little resistance. Not more than twenty foemen would have survived the ambush you just heard deployed.”

  Halak gave a signal, then helped lead the two mounts bearing Rachel, Corinne, and Tark away from the gate. Twenty riders galloped out of the gate and across the drawbridge.

  Halak drew near to Galloran, speaking for his ears only. Rachel made an effort to overhear. “We kept a very close watch of your movements across the neutral territory and up the pass. I have sentries along the rim of the gorge. We have an efficient system of signaling that has kept me informed minute by minute. I would have sent help earlier had intervention become necessary. Our riders will reach your friends before the enemy, all save the lone man who scaled the wall of the gorge. His chief threat at present is his precarious climb.”

  “You have my deepest gratitude,” Galloran said. “It took planning to have those riders standing ready.”

  “My discourteous welcome on the wall was a shameful political necessity. There are isolationist proponents in our midst who must be appeased. By appealing to the fearful, they wield enough clout to create serious trouble.”

  “I appreciate your explanation,” Galloran replied. “Believe me that I grasp the all-too-frequent need for careful political maneuvering.”

  “Many eyes observed how I greeted you. I am grateful you withstood my disrespectful reception and offered such convincing reasons for me to grant admittance to you and your comrades. Your persuasiveness freed me to perform my duty correctly.”

  Halak strode over to Tark, parting the musician’s lips with his thumbs. “Your comrade is sorely afflicted.”

  “The illness has evolved quickly, aggravated by strenuous travel,” Galloran said.

  “Trust him to our care.” Halak helped Corinne down, then handed Mandibar’s reins to a woman, who led the horse away. A second woman kept a steadying hand on Tark. “Can I make the rest of you more comfortable?”

  “The young women, perhaps,” Galloran said. “I would rather wait until the others are safe.”

  “I’ll wait too,” Rachel put in.

  “Me too,” Corinne agreed.

  “Very well,” Halak said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Rachel listened intently. The next round of explosions would come when the enemy horsemen engaged Jason and the others. She waited in agony.

  The longer we hear nothing, the more likely we’ll hear nothing, Galloran conveyed mentally.

  Did you just read my thoughts? Rachel asked.

  Once you learned to speak in silence, your mind became much more open to mine, Galloran explained.

  You can’t just read anyone’s thought?

  Only other beings who can speak in silence, like wizards or torivors. For example, I can’t hear Nedwin’s thoughts, nor can he hear mine, no matter how intensely I try to transmit them.

  Rachel considered the idea. But you read my mind even though I wasn’t trying to speak to you.

  An ability that sets me apart from many. Of those who can hear your thoughts, most will only recognize those impressions you deliberately send.

  Rachel glanced at Corinne. We’re sort of leaving your daughter out of the conversation.

  I can hear you as well, Corinne conveyed.

  Yes, Galloran shared. Corinne and I have held mental conversations ever since exiting the swamp together. Had you exerted yourself, you could have listened in.

  I frequently spoke this way with Great-Aunt Madeline, Corinne explained. She told me this type of gift is often hereditary.

  Do you speak Edomic? Rachel asked.

  Not with much power, Corinne replied. On a good day, with a lot of effort, I can ignite a small fire. I can’t do much else. But speaking in silence comes naturally.

  Halak returned. “I’ve had news. That was a good man you sent up the mountainside. He created enough of a rockslide to block the pass. The imperial soldiers took heavy losses. The horses couldn’t cross the rubble, so those who survived tried to proceed on foot, but retreated when challenged by our horsemen.”

  “How is the man who scaled the wall?” Galloran asked.

  “Most of our riders are waiting for him.”

  “Everyone is all right?” Rachel asked.

  “Your comrades are on their way,” Halak replied warmly.

  CHAPTER 18

  THE SEVEN VALES

  The soldiers at West Gate resided in tunnels chiseled into the mountainsides. Captain Halak made arrangements for a meal to be served in his personal quarters. The room where Halak escorted Jason and the others held a long, low table surrounded by twelve mats. An elegant, square storage cabinet stood against one wall. Two round windows and a few oil lamps provided light.

  The polished table supported woven baskets of bread, cheese, nuts, fruit, and vegetables. Wooden bowls that held soups and sweet confections sat alongside pitchers of juice, milk, and water. After inviting his guests to help themselves, Halak departed.

  “Not much furniture,” Jason observed.

  “The Amar Kabal value simplicity,” Galloran said, “which is a powerful endorsement for the principle, considering they have spent many lifetimes determining how best to live.”

  “I heard they have vast caves full of treasure,” Aram said.

  “Any chance others are listening?” Ferrin asked.

  “Halak assured me a private room,” Galloran said. “He understands our need to confer.”

  Drake opened the cabinet door, snooping around. “That’s one explanation for why he left so swiftly. He also may not wish to be accused of consulting with us. I know Halak. Not a bad man, but very careful about his interests.”

  “He opened the gate,” Galloran pointed out.

  “As I said,” Drake said, closing the cabinet door, “not a bad man.”

  “Is their treasure a forbidden subject?” Aram asked.

  “Unlike most tales of hidden wealth, that one is true,” Galloran said. “The Amar Kabal keep enorm
ous stores of food and valuables in secret caverns. They are a prudent people. The Seven Vales were chosen as a homeland, for the highly defendable geography. And fallback strongholds await the seedfolk deep in the mountains.”

  “Too many of my people obsess about preserving their long lives,” Drake griped. “With the threat of Maldor looming, certain shortsighted leaders have preyed on our cautious natures to our detriment. If we continue to avoid confronting the emperor, we may be the last kingdom to fall, but fall we will, and Maldor will burn our seeds.”

  Galloran sat cross-legged on a mat. “If your people will acknowledge that reality, we might obtain the help we need.”

  “Good luck,” Drake said. “The fruitless debate influenced my decision to stay away.”

  Jason sat between Rachel and Corinne. After days of grueling travel, the abundance of fresh food nearly brought tears to his eyes. He grabbed a thick slice of dark bread and took a bite. Hearty and dense, the bread was saturated with honey.

  “This bread is amazing,” Jason said.

  “You will find no finer bread or vegetables anywhere,” Galloran said.

  Jason was very conscious of Corinne eating beside him. Girls that beautiful dated quarterbacks and rock stars. They weren’t supposed to inhabit the real world. Despite the eagerness of his hunger, he tried to eat with his best manners.

  Aram held up a long, knobby vegetable. Having bitten off the end, he scowled with displeasure. “No meat?”

  “Most of my people avoid meat,” Drake said. “Some will occasionally serve fish or poultry. I’m fond of a thick steak or a salty ham, but that places me in the minority.”

  “The Amar Kabal want their bodies lithe and strong,” Galloran explained. “They also generally eschew addictive substances, including strong drink.”

  Aram shook his head, stirring his soup. “I can’t fathom the point of living a hundred lifetimes without beef, venison, and mutton.”

  “I hear you,” Ferrin said. “Then again, these cucumbers aren’t bad.”

  Jason finished munching some nuts. “I heard you discussed a conclave?”

  “The Amar Kabal value experience,” Galloran said. “They are ruled by a gerontocracy. Their governing body, the Conclave, consists of the eldest living member of the Amar Kabal, together with the next two eldest males and the next two eldest females willing to undertake the responsibility.”

  “Those five leaders will decide whether the Amar Kabal will help us?” Aram checked.

  “They get the final word,” Drake confirmed. “But they’re surrounded by counselors, and any member of the Amar Kabal is free to speak out on any topic. Our leaders listen to the people.”

  “We need the Amar Kabal,” Galloran said. “Their women are the truest archers in Lyrian. Their men are the most proven warriors. Their commanders possess centuries of experience. And perhaps most important, if they join us, it will become much easier to recruit other nations.”

  “But first they must stop clinging to their neutral status,” Corinne said.

  “This is our problem,” Galloran agreed. “The inert tend to remain inert. Passivity has been the standard for so long, it will be hard to rile the seedmen to action. When last I counseled with Pallas, eldest of the Amar Kabal, he helped me arrive at my decision to try to destroy Maldor by discovering the Key Word. The hope of a simple solution was too tempting to resist. Now the situation has changed. Our only realistic option is a coordinated rebellion against the emperor. I must awaken the Amar Kabal to the reality that their neutral status will only survive as long as it works to Maldor’s advantage.”

  “It will be an uphill battle,” Drake said. “Plenty among us have tried to raise the alarm.”

  “I’m still formulating my strategies,” Galloran said. “But I’m in a unique position to promise outside help and to bring a fresh perspective to the discussion. And I can proclaim the Word a fraud, thereby erasing an excuse for waiting.”

  Drake swallowed a hunk of bread. “You realize that if you fail, there are many among our leadership who would gladly curry favor with Felrook by handing you over.”

  “I’m aware,” Galloran said.

  “In which case, we’ll let Nedwin shower them with orantium,” Ferrin said glibly.

  “Nedwin really saved the day,” Jason said.

  The redhead looked uncomfortable with the praise. He rubbed his knuckles against his chest. “I got fortunate. I gambled by using the gatecrasher to start the rockslide. It blasted away more of the cliff than I could have expected. I threw the globe far, and it fell a fair distance before detonating, but I still barely hung on as the mountain quaked. I may have wasted some of the subsequent globes I threw. A dust cloud hid the bottom of the gorge.”

  “You gave the guards here a new chore,” Drake said. “It will take some time to clear that much rubble. But I’m sure they’ll find a use for the stone. We tend to be resourceful that way.”

  Jason sampled a dark-green fruit topped by a tuft of silky white strands. The tiny fruit tasted sweeter than pure sugar, making him cough in surprise. “What is this?”

  Several around the table chuckled. Ferrin grinned. “Qualines are only meant for use as a sweetener.”

  Jason licked at a bit of the fruit lodged between his teeth. The pulpy fragment continued to secrete sweetness until it came loose, and he swallowed it.

  “You used to come here often?” Aram asked Galloran.

  “I have visited this realm three times before,” Galloran said. “Once I remained for a couple of months. My other stays were shorter.”

  “Are the Seven Vales big?” Rachel wondered.

  “Bigger than an outsider would suppose,” Drake said. “The seven main valleys include Broadvale, Crookvale, Longvale, Midvale, Roundvale, Deepvale, and Farvale. There are a score of smaller offshoots from the main valleys, along with several other disconnected vales, higher in the mountains.”

  Galloran dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “Tomorrow we will travel to Longvale, where the Conclave convenes. The journey will consume most of the day.”

  “And no meat in sight,” Aram grumbled. “What’s wrong with these people? Those seeds have corrupted their good sense.”

  “Didn’t you hear what Ferrin said about the delicious cucumbers?” Jason teased.

  “I kept my legs moving today with the thought of a hearty roast at the end of the road,” Aram sulked.

  “I cannot believe you’re going on like this in front of the cucumbers,” Corinne chided, taking a deliberate bite of the vegetable and sharing a glance with Jason.

  “Corinne, was that a joke?” Ferrin said in mock astonishment. “Welcome to the conversation!”

  She flushed shyly.

  “If we can expect another journey tomorrow, we should secure horses,” Ferrin went on. “And if the sun will be shining, perhaps a goat for Aram.”

  “Keep it up,” Aram dared him through clenched teeth.

  “Is a goat too large and unruly?” Ferrin asked. “Maybe we could saddle a raccoon.”

  “Odd how these taunts tend to fade after sundown,” Aram growled, taking a large bite of bread.

  “But a new day always dawns,” Ferrin replied. “And we can all use some entertainment.”

  Aram glowered. “Then perhaps tonight I should pull you apart and let the others puzzle you back together.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Ferrin applauded. “Taunt back! I get the sense you’ve seldom had to deal with ridicule.”

  Aram appeared to be resisting a pleased little smile.

  “Halak offered us accommodations for the night,” Galloran said. “I suggest we claim some well-earned rest.”

  “Should I check on Tark?” Jason asked.

  “He’s in good hands,” Galloran said. “And almost certainly unconscious. We’ll pay him a visit in the morning.”

  Everyone stood. Jason stretched. Nedwin staggered, steadied himself, lowered his brow, rubbed his chest, then tipped forward onto the table. He landed without ma
king any effort to stop his fall, his body crushing woven baskets, his face upsetting a wooden bowl of diced fruit slathered with cream.

  “What happened?” Galloran asked.

  “Nedwin fainted,” Rachel said.

  Ferrin and Drake were already rolling him off the table and onto the floor.

  “Blast!” Galloran exclaimed. “Check his mouth.”

  Drake was already wiping cream from Nedwin’s slack face and pulling his jaws apart. “Advanced lungrot,” Drake reported, eyes squinting in disgust. “Worse than Tark.”

  “I should have known,” Galloran muttered. “Somebody fetch Halak. We’ll need to get Nedwin immediate treatment. Is he breathing?”

  “Barely,” Drake said.

  “Watch him,” Galloran said as Corinne and Aram hurried from the room. “He can’t feel pain or many types of discomfort. He probably knew something was wrong, but failed to appreciate the severity. Or maybe he was just being stubborn.”

  “How could he not feel it?” Drake said. “The disease has almost taken him.”

  “He was a prisoner at Felrook for years,” Jason said. “They experimented on him with pain enhancers. It left him permanently numbed.”

  A pair of seedmen rushed into the room. One quickly checked Nedwin’s mouth and grimaced in revulsion. They picked him up, one supporting him under the shoulders, one by the legs.

  “We’ll rush him to the sicktent prepared for your comrade,” one of the seedmen assured them.

  As they exited the room with Nedwin, Corinne entered. “Aram is still looking for Halak. The guards we found seemed helpful.”

  “You did well,” Galloran said. “Let’s hope the treatment isn’t too late.”

  After breakfasting on hot cereal the following morning, Jason accompanied Galloran to visit Tark and Nedwin. An unsociable man in leather armor directed them toward the gate. Unrushed, Jason got a better look at the people. They were mostly tall and serious, wearing light armor, if any. There was a tendency toward dark hair and light eyes. Some wore the unrolled portion of their hair in braids, while others let it hang free.