Noman

by William Nicholson

  "I thought the voice came from the Lost Child. It was a child's voice."

  "How you hear the voice is up to you."

  "But all the other times—"

  "We're never far away. But it's better that we go unnoticed. We do the work that makes us invisible."

  Seeker now blushed in shame at the memory of every meek he had ever met. He had paid them no attention. He had considered them to be of no account.

  "I never knew."

  "You didn't need to know. You have your task. We have ours."

  "Tell me, Gift, truly. Are you Nomana, too?"

  "No. We're meeks. We have a different mission from the Noble Warriors'. Though we all work to the same end."

  "What end is that?"

  "A kind of healing."

  Seeker shook his head, ashamed and amazed.

  "I never knew," he said again.

  "I think you knew," said Gift. "But you have forgotten. You have more memories than you know."

  "How, Gift? Make me understand. Am I older than I know?"

  Narrow Path now came out of the hut, his cupped hands brimming with gold coins.

  "There are hundreds!" he cried. "More than I can ever count!" Then his face fell. "I shall be robbed!" He turned in sudden anxiety to Gift. "How can we keep our gold from the robbers? He may be a robber."

  This was directed at Seeker. Narrow Path clutched his gold to his chest as if Seeker might take it from him then and there.

  "Throw it in the stream," said Gift. "The robbers will never find it there."

  "Throw it in the stream! Of course!"

  Narrow Path hurried to the stream bank and began to throw the shining coins, one by one, into the water.

  "Go, master," said Gift to Seeker. "Find the True Nom."

  Splash! splash! went the golden coins as they sank down into the water. Gift nodded at Seeker, and Seeker knew that the meek had no more to tell him.

  He went on his way.

  As he reached the high road, he saw a flock of passing birds and heard their harsh cries. They were seagulls, far inland. Then, deeper than the cries of the birds, he heard the boom at the heart of the land.

  My enemy is everywhere. I am no longer the hunter, I am the prey.

  So let him find me.

  "Here I am!" he cried aloud. "Why do you wait? Here I am!"

  THE FOURTH STAGE OF THE EXPERIMENT

  Proof

  I am alive and not alive. I play my part in this long experiment without knowing what it is I do. This is a trial of all men through the trial of one man.

  If he loses himself and finds the beauty round him; if he comes face-to-face with the All and Only at last; if he holds me in his arms and I see in his eyes that he has found the truth; then I will have my proof.

  22 Act As If You Believe

  MORNING STAR RODE IN THE LEAD, ALONE. BEHIND HER rode the Wildman at the head of his army of foot soldiers. They marched along in groups and gaggles, no orderly force, but in high spirits and glad to be on the move. Behind the fighting men trailed their women and children, their beasts and chattels, to form a long dusty train moving across the plains.

  Alongside the spikers and keeping pace with them rode Caressa Jahan and her Orlans. Smaller in number than the great spiker army, the Orlans kept to their ranks as they rode, proudly conscious that they were trained warriors. They too looked ahead to Morning Star, who was leading them to a new beginning.

  Pico, loping along beside the Wildman, shaded his eyes against the glare of the sun and stared ahead.

  "That's the lake," he said.

  "We're going to the lake."

  "Could be," said the Wildman.

  "We're going to Radiance."

  "Could be."

  "But chief, that's no place for a god. Radiance is a ghost city."

  "You afraid of ghosts, Pico?"

  The two armies marched into Radiance as the day was ending. At first sight the city seemed to be abandoned. Goats foraged in the gutters, and the doors of the houses hung open on smashed hinges. Roofs stripped of tiles exposed bare rafters. The water in the troughs at the crossings was stagnant and slimy.

  Spikers and Orlans alike fell silent as they passed down the looted streets, shocked by the devastation. Here and there a scurry of movement behind broken windows revealed that there were people hiding in the houses, but whoever they were, they stayed out of sight. Wild yellow cats, casting long shadows as they prowled, turned their slit eyes on the newcomers and slunk slowly away.

  Morning Star led the armies into the temple square. Here beneath the towering shadow of the temple rock, a marketplace had sprung up, where looters spread out their wares on cloths on the paved ground. The old stalls in the arcades were gone, smashed and burned in the fires that were to be seen everywhere. The dealers who now squatted beneath the arches had pitifully few goods on display: here a row of three drinking glasses, here a string of onions, here a single pair of shoes.

  The people in the square fell back as the armies entered, and huddled round the arcades—staring and curious. The Wildman looked up at the high rock and pulled a face.

  "Smells of death," he said.

  Caressa rode up beside him. She pointed with her silver-handled whip at the temple, with its imposing gates.

  "That where the king used to live?"

  "Yes," said the Wildman. "The king and the priests."

  "Then that'll do for me."

  She rode towards the broad steps that led up to the temple gates. The Wildman went after her.

  "Not so fast, Princess," he said. "Who says the Orlans get to live in the king's palace?"

  "I say."

  "And I say this is a spiker city now. And I say spikers rule."

  "Not me, boy. No one gives me orders."

  "I don't give orders, Princess. I do as I please." Caressa dismounted and climbed the steps, gesturing to her men to follow her.

  "Open these gates! Clear a way for the Jahan of Jahans!"

  The Wildman too jumped off his horse and strode up the steps, shouting to his chiefs.

  "Heya, bravas! Spikers to the top of the rock!"

  Morning Star did not go with them. Her eyes had fallen on a small crowd huddled round a fire. There was a trestle table by the fire, on which were lined up many small clay pots. Two men stood at the table, crying their wares. Morning Star recognized them at once. They were Ease and Solace, the tribute traders who had seized her and sold her as a living sacrifice.

  "Come with me," she said to the spikers nearest to her. "I'm going to need your help."

  She crossed the square and heard the traders' cry.

  "Treasured remains!" Ease was calling out, holding up a small clay pot. "Do you have a loved one murdered by the priests? Take home a relic of their sacrifice!"

  "Respectfully raised from the lake," said Solace, raking with a fork in the glowing embers of the fire. "Purified by fire."

  "The honored ashes of our beloved dead!" cried Ease. "Treasured remains! One gold shilling a jar!"

  Morning Star pushed her way through the little crowd.

  "Give me one of those," she said.

  "Certainly, lady. You have a loved one who fell from the high rock? One shilling, lady."

  Morning Star took one of the clay pots from the table, and holding it up for all to see, she let it fall to the ground. The pot shattered, spraying ashes onto the paving stones.

  "Desecration!" exclaimed Ease.

  "These men sold the living," Morning Star cried. "Now they sell the dead."

  "Oh, you wicked woman!"

  "Seize them!" said Morning Star to the spikers who had accompanied her. "Tie their hands!"

  "For what? Is it a crime to honor the fallen?"

  The spikers had the two traders by the arms and now proceeded to bind them with leather straps.

  "You don't remember me," said Morning Star, "but I remember you. You tied me up, as you're tied up now, and you sold me to be thrown from the temple rock."

  Beckoning th
e spikers to bring the captives after her, she strode across the square to the temple rock.

  "Where are you taking us? What right do you have to do this to us?"

  "You'll find out."

  "Even if we've done wrong in the past," wheedled Ease, "you wouldn't want to lower yourself to our level, would you?"

  Morning Star reached the base of the steps cut into the high rock and began to climb.

  "No!" cried Ease. "Not the rock! I won't go up the rock!"

  Morning Star stopped and turned to the spikers.

  "These men are tribute traders. If they refuse to climb the rock, throw them to the ground and stamp them to death."

  "I'm climbing," said Solace. "See, I'm climbing."

  Morning Star continued up the steep steps, climbing flight after flight, and the spikers with their captives followed behind. Ease maintained a flow of whining speech all the way.

  "Maybe we did make some mistakes in the time of the priests, lady, but if there were deaths, who was to blame for that? We never hurt a soul, not even your good self, your honesty compels you to admit that. Is it our fault if the priests were wicked and deluded? What a blessing it is that no one will ever inflict such cruelties again! Cruelty is a terrible thing, lady, as you know more than most. You know the horror and the wickedness of those monstrous sacrifices."

  His words came more slowly as the exertion of the long climb began to take its toll, but he never ceased talking.

  "What a blessing it is that power is now in the hands of those who have the most reason to be merciful. You being a lady, good lady, will have a natural tendency towards mercy. I know in my heart that where we were weak, you'll be strong. You'll show all the world what it is to have a noble heart."

  As they reached the top of the rock, the spikers asked, "Where do you want them, little mother?"

  "By the edge," said Morning Star. "Blindfold them."

  "Little mother!" cried Ease. "He called you little mother! A mother doesn't hurt her children!"

  "Why are we to be blindfolded?" said Solace, faint with terror.

  The spikers tied cloths tightly round the tribute traders' eyes. When they were blindfolded, Morning Star ordered the spikers to walk them across the rock terrace.

  "Mercy, little mother!" cried Ease.

  "You shall have mercy," said Morning Star. "In my mercy I've blindfolded you. You can't see the drop. But I can see it." She stood on the western lip, where the tributes had been made to stand, and looked down. "It's a long, long way down to the water. You sold me to this death. Did you ever think what it would be like to fall from this rock?"

  "Please, lady," said Ease, now sobbing. "Those were different times. We all make mistakes."

  "Will your stomach melt as you fall? Will you be able to breathe with the wind whipping in your face?"

  "I don't want to die!"

  "And when you hit the water, do you die quickly, or do you lie broken in the water and drown?"

  "No! No-o!"

  Both of them were now convulsed with sobs of terror.

  "Hold them by the edge!" ordered Morning Star. "Sacrifice them for all the innocent men and women they've sent to their deaths! Throw them down!"

  They screamed as they fell, uttering terrible high-pitched cries of despair. But the edge over which they had been pushed was not the great drop down to the water. They fell no farther than one flight of the rock steps. There they lay, at the bottom of the steps, bruised and moaning.

  "You should have made them take the big jump, little mother," said the spikers. "Scum like that don't deserve to live."

  "I came close," said Morning Star. "So very close." She shuddered and moved away from the high cliff's edge. "Let them go now."

  The shaken tribute traders were released from their bonds. Morning Star watched as they limped down the steps to the square below. Across the lake the sun was now setting, as it had been setting when she stood here a year ago, surrounded by the pomp and ritual of the court of Radiance.

  ***

  Caressa and her men now emerged by the internal stairs onto the open terrace, followed by the Wildman and his spiker chiefs. They were still quarrelling.

  "This is where I'll stand and greet my people," Caressa said. She went to the terrace wall and waved to the crowd in the square below. A cheer went up from the Orlans. "Jahan! Jahan!"

  "This is where I'll stand," said the Wildman. "A spiker lord in a spiker city."

  He too cried down to the men below.

  "Heya! Do you lo-o-ove me?"

  "Wildman!" they cried. "Wildman! Wildman!"

  "Neither of you will stand here," said Morning Star. "This is where we will build the new Garden."

  The Wildman and Caressa stared at her in disbelief.

  "Here! In the temple!"

  "On this rock."

  "The temple's in ruins!" said Caressa. "The place is a dump!"

  "What sort of god would want to live here?" said the Wildman.

  "This is the place," said Morning Star. "This will be the home of the All and Only. I've seen it in my dream."

  She walked away from them, back to the western lip. Caressa and the Wildman looked at each other.

  "Is she crazy?" said Caressa.

  "Could be," said the Wildman.

  "Let me talk to her alone."

  Caressa joined Morning Star. The descending sun was close to the water now, turning the gleaming surface of the lake a deep coral pink.

  "You can tell me the truth," said Caressa in a low voice. "This dream of yours. It fools a lot of people, but it doesn't fool me. So don't think I don't know."

  "That's just what I think," said Morning Star, her eyes on the sun. "I think you don't know. I think you don't know anything. But I do know."

  She spoke with a hard, clear assurance that Caressa had never heard from her before.

  "The Garden will be built," she said. "The god will come. The people will believe. Even the Orlans will believe."

  She turned her gaze on Caressa.

  "The Orlans will believe because you will tell them to believe. You are the Jahan of Jahans."

  Caressa was awed. The quiet, plain-faced girl was transformed. She had become sure and strong and magnificent.

  "How can I tell them to believe?" she said. "I don't believe myself."

  "Act as if you believe," said Morning Star.

  The Wildman, grown impatient, now joined them.

  "So now we're here," he said, "what do we do?"

  Caressa turned to him.

  "She says we're to build a home for the god up here," she said. "You believe in the hoodie god, Wildman?"

  "Can't say I don't," said the Wildman slowly. "Can't say I do. Seems like I half believe."

  Caressa looked at his golden skin, warmed by the light of the setting sun, and thought how beautiful he was.

  "I'll do it if you will," she said.

  "Heya, Princess. Why not?"

  The sun sank at last beneath the horizon. The sky glowed with the fading sunset.

  "Build it," said Morning Star, "and the Lost Child will return."

  Over the days that followed, the two armies gradually restored order to the shattered city. The frightened people came out of hiding, and the bandit gangs that had ruled the streets were driven away. The six floors of the temple were cleared, swept, and cleaned, and teams of builders and gardeners set about transforming the summit of the rock. A wall rose up, built of rough-edged stones set in such a way that little chinks of light pierced the mortar in a thousand places. Barrels of soil were hauled to the top and tipped inside the wall. Young trees and bushes and grasses and flowers were planted. The tanks that had held the tributes were filled with water pumped up from the lake, and from the tanks a channel was cut to trickle water into the newly created garden. The work went on rapidly because all the laborers knew what they were building and were excited by it. They were making a home for a god.

  Morning Star kept to herself over these days, because wherever she was recogn
ized she was besieged by people calling on her for help. To escape the burden of prayers, she went out riding on Sky, and rode farther each day, taking the little-used tracks to the east. Sky asked her no questions and made no demands. The beautiful Caspian shared her solitude and her silence beneath the endless summer sky.

  Then one day she returned to the city and found the people had been looking out for her.

  "Little mother!" they cried joyfully. "We thought you'd left us!"

  "Not yet," she said.

  "The work is finished! The Garden is built!"

  "Then we must keep vigil," said Morning Star. "The Lost Child will come to the Garden tonight."

  23 The Return of the Lost Child

  THEY BUILT A GREAT BONFIRE IN THE TEMPLE SQUARE, and the spikers and the Orlans and the people of the city crowded between the broken arcades to watch for the coming of the god. A half-moon rose in the sky, and by its light they gazed up at the new stone wall on the top of the temple rock, within which lay the new Garden. The wall had no doors or windows and was twice the height of a man. If the god was to enter the Garden, he would have to fall down from the sky like a star.

  The waiting people were curious and excited but unsure how much to believe.

  "How's any god to get in there?" said some.

  "There's no god," said others. "They're telling us stories, same as the priests told us stories before."

  Caressa heard the people talking among themselves, and she became increasingly nervous as the night hours passed. She conferred with the Wildman.

  "What if nothing happens? What do we do?"

  "Star'll know what to do."

  "Wildman, she's funny in the head. You only have to look at her."

  "So maybe she knows things we don't know."

  "And maybe she's making fools of us both."