"Hold still," he said.
Jacom held still, gritting his teeth- not against the pain, of which there was none, but against the power of his imagination, which told him all too clearly what Phar was doing.
"Surely you don't really believe all that stuff about invisible bacteria and viruses causing decay and disease?" he said, feeling a dire need to distract himself from contemplation of what was happening to his leg.
"I mean, how could anyone know even if there were such things? It's just empty jargon, to convince people that doctors are authentic magicians instead of people who've learned a set of useful treatments refined by the trials and errors of past generations."
"As it happens," Phar replied drily,
"I do believe it. I believe in bacteria and viruses, cells and organelles, chlorophyll and haemoglobin, genes and chromosomes, molecules and atoms . .
. the whole set. Call me a romantic fool if you will, but I'm pretty damn sure that the people who put together the lore which has been handed down to us were a lot smarter than we are. I don't know how they got to be that smart, or how they knew all the things they claimed to know about things we couldn't possibly find out, but I'm prepared to believe that they really did have microscopes and telescopes and lots of other kinds of scopes and that they really did try their damnedest to pass on as much of their wisdom as they possibly could to our ancestors. Maybe forgetfulness isn't the only sin, but every time I ask myself where I'd be 283
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where any of us woAld be-
if it weren't for the lore, I understand well enough why it's the worst sin of all."
"I'm not disparaging the lore," Jacom complained.
"I'm just saying that it isn't what it pretends to be. I think it was discovered by ordinary people not much different from you and me, who dressed it up to make it seem far more awesome than it really is. When you get right down to it, it's just a set of recipes for making I; things. The fancy words don't actually add anything, do they?"
"They add a theoretical framework," Phar said flatly, while he whittled away with the point of his knife.
"They add a way of thinking about the world, a way of understanding it as a set of interlocking systems. They add an account of the things which underlie mere appearances. I think that's worth something. If I didn't, I wouldn't be risking my life trying to find out what the mysteries of Genesys are all about."
"If there was anything to understand," Jacom told him stubbornly, 'the people who made up the lore would have said what they had to say in plain language.
There wouldn't be any mystery- and there certainly wouldn't be any vague warnings and prophecies or any so-called secret commandments. Don't you find all that stuff just plain silly? "
"No, I don't," Phar told him agreeably.
"If I were a lo remaster of old who had to transmit a message over hundreds or thousands of generations, without knowing how long it would take for the circumstances to arise in whicrnt would become relevant, I might be tempted to use sneaky tactics like passing secret commandments to a supposedly favoured few and instructing them to guard them from others at all costs, or framing enigmas calculated to tease and tantalise. It's one thing, you see, to ask people to remember things which they have to use year in and year out, but quite another asking them to remember things which won't have any practical value for thousands of years. No matter how sinful forgetfulness is, people are only too ready to indulge themselves when what they're remembering seems to have no immediate pay-off... as illustrated by our unfortunate failure to recruit a mapmaker to this expedition. There!
All done. I'll just slap some wound glue on. In five or six days it'll be as good as new. You'll probably find it more comfortable meanwhile to ride than walk, though. "
Jacom breathed a massive sigh of relief. He shuddered at the file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Brian%20Stableford%20-%20Serpents%20Blood.TXT (289 of 495) [11/1/2004 12:26:21 AM]
thought that
more filthy bloodsucking insects might creep under his protective netting and malevolently leave their heads embedded in his flesh when he brushed them off. Nothing like that had ever happened on his father's estate, where a man could sleep naked under the stars though not, of course, under the fierce midday sun and suffer no serious harm.
What am I doing here? he thought. What am I doing in a bizarre half-world full of vile things, in the company of madmen who are prepared to risk everything on the strength of a handful of garbled myths? He was only too well aware, though, that the price of returning home or to any safe haven within the empire's borders was the recovery of Princess Lucrezia.
As he lowered himself gingerly from the back of the wagon, careful not to trust his weight to his numb leg, Koraismi raced towards him in a state of high excitement, shouting something to the effect that golden women were coming.
Jacom instantly leapt to the conclusion that he must mean Hyry Keshvara and Princess Lucrezia - but his sudden elation was short-lived. By the time he had hobbled to a position from which he could look back along the trail which the expedition had been following the newcomers were clearly in view, and he saw immediately that this was a very different, and much more surprising, company.
In the lead came a giant, striding along purposefully on foot and leading an enormous horse, over whose back lay an unconscious figure which was only just recognisable as an old woman. This huge animal was followed by a much smaller horse bearing a much bigger rider a rider who was neither a woman nor a golden, although the copious bloodstains about his head made it very difficult to tell exactly what he might be. It was the fact that he was nearly as large as the giant rather than his colouring which told Jacom who he was.
Behind the second horse came a third, bearing a stout male rider, and behind that one another, on a leading-rein, with two dark land women walking beside it.
To his astonishment, Jacom recognised the stout rider as Checuti, Xandria's one-time prince of thieves. He was by no means disconsolate to observe that the thief-master was looking very gaunt and haggard about the face, with a haunted expression
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in his eyes. It was AQt until the party had come to a halt and the bloody figure of Andris Myrasol had stumbled from his mount, that he recognised the person who lay unconscious over the saddle of the giant's horse. It was Princess Lucrezia's mentor and fellow- gardener, Queen Ereleth.
The giant made straight for Aulakh Phar, who had come up behind jacom very swiftly. It was obvious that his healing talents were urgently required.
Myrasol remained where he was, rocking back and forth as though he might fall at any minute, while Merel Zabio ran anxiously to meet him. Checuti, by contrast, turned his sorely tired horse in Jacom's direction and did not dismount until he had walked it to within a mere couple of mets. He had an oddly twisted smile upon his full lips.
"Captain Cerri!" he said.
"I never thought I'd have to say so, but I'm glad to see you."
"It's a giant!" Koraismi said excitedly, as he bobbed up and down by Jacom's side.
"A true giant! Did I not tell you that strange things are in the forest?
Did I not tell you that the world is changing, and will never be the same again?"
To the boy, the giant was every bit as exotic as a Serpent or a Salamander, more so than a drago mite Jacom did not bother to explain to him that this prodigy, at least, was not from the mythical lands beyond the Dragomite Hills, and was not in the least to be feared by folk such as he. Instead, he looked up at Checuti and said: "What brings you here?"
H
"Dreams of adventure," Checuti said sardonically.
"What else?"
Aulakh Phar set to work as soon as he had' taken a closer look at Ereleth's unconscious
body. He instructed" one of the other dark lander boys to set water to boil in a cauldron while he went back into the wagon to delve for wound glue and bandages, salves and potions. Merel Zabio began to complain that her kinsman ought to be treated first, but the big amber restrained her.
Jacom was impressed in spite of himself by the awesome speed and certainty of Phar's actions as the old man rushed back and forth, checking the wounds which scored the flesh of the amber while the witch-queen was laid out on a sleeping-mat.
"What happened?" he asked Checuti, placing his hand on Koraismi's supportive shoulder so that he did not have to hop on his one good leg. The thief did not seem in the least surprised or
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embarrassed to find him here, and stepped
towards him for all the world as if the two of them had always been fast friends.
"You too have suffered an injury, I see!" he remarked, gushing forth false sympathy.
"What a terrible place this forest is and we have not yet caught sight or sound of one of those hideous drago mite invaders! The unfortunate Ereleth was attacked by a night cloak
Andris and I were obliged to go to her aid. We fought like heroes, but poor Andris was badly mauled about the head and body, while the witch-queen was knocked unconscious and proved so difficult to rouse that we feared for her life. We were fortunate enough to meet these dark land women, but their witchery was inadequate to revive the queen and we did not know how we might use the medicines in Ereleth's belt to soothe or dress poor Andris's wounds.
They were good enough, however, to guide us here with all due speed. Dhalla, of course, has been a veritable tower of strength. "
Jacom felt that this explanation left out rather much in the preliminary stages.
"What in the world were you doing in the company of the queen and the giant?"
he asked, wishing that he were not too lame and too bewildered to strike the kind of interrogative pose which would have been more fitting for an officer in the king's guard.
"We were helping her to find the princess," Checuti replied, as if it ought to have been obvious.
"You didn't seem in the least inclined to help me do the same," Jacom reminded him.
"The queen has greater powers of persuasion," Checuti remarked, twisting his odd smile into an even more ironic configuration.
"Is the princess not here, then? Have I brought my companions on a wild goose chase after all?"
Jacom was uncomfortably aware of the fact that Checuti was teasing him.
"Not yet," he said brusquely.
"I hope that she and Keshvara may arrive soon before we have to face hordes of marauding drago mites and who knows what other monsters."
"I'm relieved that we shall have the cream of the king's guard to defend us from such dangers," Checuti said mockingly.
"I know we shall be safe with such a man as you to protect us."
"I can't imagine how you come to be here, " said Jacom, tiring of a game which he seemed to be losing, 'but you're under arrest. When 287
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we take
the princesil^? ack, we'll take you along with her, dead or alive. Although I still have no more than nine men with me, you're certainly not going to get away this time. "
Checuti sighed.
"What a tiresome young man you are, captain," he said amiably, 'and how little you understand about the ways of the world.
I only hope and pray that Ereleth makes a full recovery, so that she may teach you the sad error of your ways. Will you put me in irons right away, or may I be allowed to help my friend Andris and make what efforts I can to comfort his pretty cousin? I promise I won't try to escape. "
Jacom looked across at Merel Zabio, who was now kneeling with Phar beside the supine body of the big amber. Myrasol was still conscious but seemed to have lost a lot of blood. Jacom couldn't help hoping that the wounds weren't as bad as they looked.
Oh well, he thought. At least Phar has his mapmaker now, for a little while much good may it do him.
Somehow, Jacom felt in his bones that it was going to be very difficult indeed to make good his latest threat against Checuti. When the stout thief-master turned away, he made no move to stop him but he remembered King Belin's words, which seemed to echo now inside his skull: If you can, bring me this Checuti's head on a pike . . . and the amber's, if you want to be sure of the best possible welcome.
"I will, majesty," he murmured.
"At least, I'll certainly try."
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i7 when the tree in which Hyry Keshvara was trapped began to drift downstream Lucrezia leapt forward, and would have jumped into the water had Elema not caught her and held her fast. Her grip was remarkably strong for such a frail and ancient creature. Lucrezia fought against the constraining hand but the old woman would not be denied, and the fact that they were wedged into the bushy rampart was not to Lucrezia's advantage.
Lucrezia watched helplessly as the tree rolled in the water, so that the part of the crown which had been underwater slowly began to emerge. She hoped that this process might lift Hyry's imprisoned body clear of the water, but the crown was too thick for her to see. The rolling continued, but it was slow and irresolute and there was no way to know what effect it might be having on the trader's chances of survival. The tree drifted further out into the river, to the channel which the dredgers had cleared, and began to move more rapidly downstream.
The princess wanted to shout Hyry's name at the top of her voice, as if by doing so she might summon her back or cause her to rise up out of the dark swirling waters . . . but the order to be quiet still held sway over her tongue, even though the splash of the tree as it hit the water had been loud enough to be heard four hundred mets away.
The water was now so murky with mud where the tree had fallen that it seemed as black as ink and as thick as blood. Lucrezia thought she could imagine how it might feel to be trapped in that kind of cold soup, desperate for air.
She wondered if it might be better to hope that Hyry had been stupefied by the sting, and now had not the slightest idea what was happening to her . .
. but she could not hope any such thing. Instead, she hoped desperately, for she knew how frail a hope it was that the tree had turned 289
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sufficiently to brin^Hyry's head above the surface, and would continue to hold it there, so that she could not possibly drown.
The princess tried again to escape from Elema's grip, but the attempt was less than half-hearted. She had learned to swim in the baths which one of Belin's remote ancestors had caused to be hollowed out beneath the seaward side of the citadel, but she knew how utterly foolish it would be to dive into the river after her friend. She kept her eyes on the tree's course lest Hyry's head might yet bob up in its wake as it floated serenely downstream, but there was nothing to be seen.
Then the strangers arrived.
Lucrezia was unconscious of the near presence of other people until Elema suddenly released her and shoved her away from the bank, saying: "Run! Hide!"
The order came too late. Someone laid a hand on her shoulder almost immediately, and although she bounded away she could not quite evade its clutch. The man followed her, and as she stumbled he caught her again. She struggled to draw a knife from her belt but he knocked her arms away. She fell to the ground, sprawling untidily, and knew that if he had intended to hurt her he could have done it then bur he hesitated.
At such close quarters the starlight was sufficiently bright to inform her attacker that she Was a woman, not a war
rior, and a golden too. This was enough to make him refrain from hitting her while she was down.
Elema had not even tried to fight. The old dark lander was standing still, with her empty hands raised aloft, shrieking: "Friends! Friends!" It seemed, though, that "the man who was attacking Lucrezia was unimpressed by this gesture; indeed, he reacted fiercely against it, actually turning away from Lucrezia to round on the old woman. He grabbed Elema's arm and pulled her clear of the bush, handing her back to another man following close behind.
"Hold her!" he commanded.
His accent was strange, but there was something faintly reassuring about the familiarity of the words. He was golden, after all a distant kinsman, no doubt, but a kinsman nevertheless.
Lucrezia tried to get up again, but paused in a kneeling position to look back in the direction of the floating tree. There was still no sign of anything in the water except the tree. The further the tree file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Brian%20Stableford%20-%20Serpents%20Blood.TXT (295 of 495) [11/1/2004 12:26:21 AM]
went the
quieter the water became, but nothing popped up from the depths.
Lucrezia stabbed an urgent finger in the direction of the tree. "My friend!"
she shouted at the gold ens
"Go after her, I beg of you!
Save her, if you can! "
They didn't move. She looked up, helplessly, at the man who had cast her down. He was poised to do it again if she made any threatening gesture, so she remained exactly where she was. He seemed uncertain as to what to do next, but he obviously had no intention of diving into the river. Even if he had, she told herself bitterly, the crocolids would probably have got him before he was halfway to the tree- and if Hyry couldn't swim away from the tree, she was almost certainly dead.
A fourth man joined the other three. They stood in a ragged arc, studying Lucrezia carefully- rather more carefully than Elema, who was still hard held by one of them. They must have learned far more about her in three minutes than she learned about them; she could not stop thinking about the enormity of Hyry's tragedy.
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