Death and Resurrection (The Ballad of Broken Song Book 1)

by Simon Birks

  Berra

  The food tasted good, and by the eager sound of his eating, Sogal agreed.

  The old woman didn’t rest as they ate. Instead, she crushed some seeds in a bowl, before adding some powder to them. When they’d finished the food, she mixed some water into the bowl and offered it to Pinto.

  “What’s this?” the man asked.

  “Some herbs. I swear by them. I think they make me healthier inside, but it could all be in my mind. Powerful thing, the mind.”

  Pinto looked into the bowl. The mixture was black. He looked to the dog, who was still licking his chops from the food. Pinto took a sip. It tasted of nothing. He took another sip, then tipped a small amount into the dog’s bowl. Sogal sniffed it, then drank the lot.

  Pinto handed the bowl back to the woman. She finished the mixture off.

  “What’s your name?”

  A smile broke out on the woman’s face.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Been a long time since I knew that.”

  “What should I call you, then?”

  “Anything you want,” she replied. “Though most call me Berra.”

  “Most?”

  The woman sighed again.

  “Do you believe in fate, Pinto?” she asked.

  “Fate?” Pinto thought of the second Resurrection and of Fijefel. “Perhaps. Why?”

  “If your friend is alive, then they will have found him. If so, he will be in the prison. And if he’s in the prison…”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, you’d be in luck. I just happen to have some friends there who can help.”

  Rules

  Fijefel awoke. Disorientated, he was confused as to why the room he was now in didn’t look like his room in the tower. Then he saw the metal door, and he remembered where he was. A moment later, there was a noise like a bolt being slid back, and he sat up.

  Another bolt. And another.

  Finally the door was pushed open. A woman stepped into the cell. Behind her, two guards stood watch.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Hello,” Fijefel said.

  “I heard they picked you out of the pool.”

  “They did.”

  “Then you were lucky.”

  “I don’t feel very lucky.”

  The woman paused.

  “Did you come here alone?”

  “I did,” Fijefel said, in a way he hoped was neither hurried nor delayed. “I was lost in the Shroud and fell into the water.”

  The woman laughed. A short, one-syllable laugh.

  “You lie well,” she said. “Not well enough, of course. But I’m sure we’ll run into your friends soon enough. Do you know where you are?”

  “No.”

  “No, you don’t. That’s good. You are a barbarian, from the barbarians’ world. You have come through to our side. Here we are not barbarians. We have rules to follow. We need you to follow the rules. Do you understand?”

  “As only a barbarian can,” Fijefel said, controlling his annoyance.

  “Very good. Please, play by the rules, and you will be… safer. The rules are important here.”

  “We all have rules,” Fijefel said.

  “Yes, I suppose we do.”

  The woman left the room. The door was heaved shut and the bolts, one by one, slid back into place.

  Summoning

  Gideon was only half on the lookout for a holy man as they travelled through the night. Because, after all, he couldn’t prove Ka Pinto was still alive, and that meant he was still a murderer to everyone else. The less contact he had with anyone, holy or not, the better.

  Yeta walked ahead. She seemed to know the way, which was good when the only roads they could find often thinned out and sometimes disappeared entirely.

  As the night entered its fourth hour, the pair of them heard chanting coming from their left. Several voices. They stopped.

  “Do you know what they’re saying?” he asked the woman.

  She shook her head.

  “I’ll take a closer look.”

  “Really?” Gideon asked. “We have no idea who they are.”

  “Says the murderer.”

  Gideon laughed.

  “They could be murderers, too.”

  Yeta sighed.

  “If we don’t like the look of them, we’ll leave.”

  “If we get the chance.”

  They approached under cover of darkness. They could see a light, a flame, in the middle of the trees, but little else. The chanting grew louder.

  At least they won’t hear us, Gideon thought.

  Within a few minutes the pair had got as close as they needed, to see what was going on. There were three figures, robed in simple brown cloth with hoods over their heads. They were kneeling, looking up, hands placed on their knees. The chanting was rhythmic, soporific. Gideon shook his head to clear it.

  As he did so, Yeta stood up and started to walk closer to the men.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to see if they’re friendly.”

  Gideon watched the woman walk a few paces, before deciding, against his better judgement, to help her.

  “Wait,” he said.

  Yeta waited.

  “Thank you,” she said, as Gideon drew next to her.

  “You saved my life. That’s not a debt I want hanging over my head. And, honestly, this looks like a good opportunity to repay it.”

  Yeta reached over and squeezed the boy’s hand.

  “Thank you, all the same.”

  They walked towards the opening, side by side. The figures chanted. The fire burned.

  Gideon and Yeta reached the edge of the clearing, paused for the briefest of moments, and then stepped through. The figures stopped chanting.

  “Hello,” Yeta said.

  She sounded confident, although the tremor Gideon could feel in her hand told another story.

  The middle figure stood up.

  “Hello,” he said.

  Yeta took another step forward.

  “I’m in need of a holy man,” she told him.

  The figure spread their arms to indicate the other two.

  “Then you are in luck. We are holy people.”

  It was a man’s voice, deep, and knowledgeable.

  “What are you doing here?” Gideon asked him.

  “Performing a rite,” he said.

  “What sort of rite?”

  One of the other figures stood up, turned and smiled.

  “It was a summoning charm.” This was another man. Shorter, with a nasal voice.

  Gideon looked at Yeta, who was standing firm.

  “What were you summoning?” he asked.

  The third holy figure stood. It was a woman. She was tall and handsome. She smiled.

  “You,” she said.

  *

  “What does that mean?” Yeta asked.

  She felt calmer now. It seemed perfectly sensible that these holy people had summoned her here.

  “We are three,” the woman said. “We are the Order of the End.”

  “Never heard of you,” Gideon said from behind Yeta.

  “I need your help,” Yeta said. “I need your help with an exorcism.”

  “It’s been a long time since any of us have performed such a task. Who is the subject?”

  “Me,” Yeta said. “There are children… many children. They have died, maybe, probably, because of me. And they want to be set free. They want to be nothing again.”

  The holy woman looked at Yeta. She stepped closer to her, and stared into her eyes.

  “Why are you so sure you killed them?”

  “Because I saw it. Can you help me?”

  The woman nodded a short, matter-of-fact, ‘of course we can’ type of nod.

  “But not here,” she said. “We have a place that would be better to use. A holy place.”

  “Now?”

  “We can go and prepare.”

  Yeta turned to Gideon. His face was unrea
dable.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “If they can keep their distance, I’m willing to give it a try.”

  Yeta smiled. It felt awkward on her face.

  “Very well,” she said. She turned to look at the holy woman.

  “Thank you,” she said to them. “Lead the way.”

  Old Friends

  Jenza and Aponser, refreshed from their previous night’s sleep, were already walking by the time the sun rose over the horizon. It rose in the South, behind and to the left of them, and threw their long shadows to the North. As she walked Jenza thought about Lacquishan’s visit. The robed woman was not to be trusted. Her hands told her so. Her gut told her so. She smiled at the saying. It was one that Doshan used.

  Jenza thought of him then. He was a man like no other. That’s what she used to say to him.

  “Oh, Doshan,” she muttered to herself.

  He would have liked to have seen the sunrise, this far away from Langeph, the Court of Kings their destination. He was a traveller, too. Now, he was gone, and she had no one.

  She felt close to tears, but didn’t want Aponser to know.

  “Wait!” she heard the woman say.

  Ja Jenza looked over to where she stood.

  The woman was looking up at the sky to the East, from where they’d come, shielding her eyes.

  “What is it?” Jenza called.

  “I think it’s looking for you,” Aponser said, pointing.

  Ja Jenza followed the line of the woman’s outstretched finger. Her heart almost stopped. She took a tentative step towards it, and then another. Then she was running.

  “Harrar?” she shouted into the sky at the shape that half-flew, half-fell out of the air.

  She tried to whistle. The short sharp whistle, but her mouth was dry and nothing but a rasp came out.

  “Harrar,” she shouted.

  She licked her lips and tried again. It was better, but it wouldn’t travel the distance needed to attract the bird.

  It was nearly overhead. It seemed confused, erratic. Jenza took a breath, wet her lips again and swallowed. She closed her eyes and whistled. This time, the sound came out strongly. She opened her eyes and the eagle was coming. It was descending. She looked at her arm, it had no protection. It didn’t matter, she thought. She held it up, and the bird’s claws opened.

  As she watched it approach, she saw it dip and roll. It was dehydrated. Starving.

  How long has it been looking for me?

  Then it landed, the claws gripping her arm and puncturing her flesh. She had expected to scream with pain, but whilst there was pain, there was also Harrar, and the sight of the bird somehow turned that pain into ecstasy. All she could do, as the blood soaked through her sleeve, was laugh with pure joy.

  A Calm

  They were nearing the city, and the clusters of houses grew more numerous. They rested sometime during the night. Hossip checked over the horses, and was pleased with their condition. He spoke to Ma Poppun, who looked better than she had in a while, whilst Hoep stood nearby and listened.

  Visenai and Orsa, who’d been on the roof the whole time, came down. Orsa spoke briefly with Hoep and then rested. Visenai curled up next to Ma Poppun, whilst Hoep and Hossip sat awake.

  The conversation between the two men had been sporadic to start with, but relaxed when Hoep asked him about the horses. Hossip was quite the expert, and Hoep, who’d never had much to do with animals, found it genuinely interesting.

  In return Hoep talked to Hossip about the Telar-Val, and of his training and work. When Orsa tapped Hoep on the shoulder to change shifts, the two men were been getting on very well indeed.

  When the sun began to threaten the night’s monopoly, they all boarded the carriage again, with Orsa opting to stay on the inside. Hoep said he’d ride up front with Hossip, and Visenai returned to the roof once more.

  “Should we make the city today?” Hoep asked, when the carriage was in motion.

  Hossip nodded.

  “By late afternoon,” the coachman said. “We are hoping to stay at a friend’s, or at least, on their land. You are welcome to stay with us, if you wish.”

  “That sounds ideal. I’ll mention it to Orsa to make sure she’s happy.”

  “She’s a quiet one,” Hossip said.

  “She can be. I think she isn’t used to lots of people. I think her talking to me is as awkward as she’d like to feel right now.”

  “Will you be returning to the Telar-Val?”

  “No,” Hoep said. “I’ll be giving them a wide berth, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do.”

  Hoep was not planning to stay in Langeph for any length of time. He thought he might continue to travel east. That would be all right. Further east meant finding a job amongst the land-workers. He could do with some hard graft. He wasn’t sure if Orsa would follow him. He wanted her to.

  “Would you like to take the reins?” Hossip asked.

  Hoep smiled and nodded.

  “For a short while, if you don’t mind.”

  The coachman passed the straps of leather over, and Hoep held them in the way Hossip had told him to the night before.

  “There you go,” Hossip said. “We’ll make a coachman of you yet.”

  Requests

  They had walked far. A lot further than they’d been expecting. Eventually, on top of a far-off hill, they saw a ruined building.

  “That is the church,” the woman, whose name was Va Tiibi, told them.

  “I need to rest,” Yeta said. “I need to rest my feet.”

  Gideon nodded.

  “As do I.”

  “Then we will go on ahead of you,” Va Tiibi said. “We can start to prepare for the exorcism.”

  “The route is simple?” Gideon asked.

  “Walk straight, and keep walking. Nothing but fields and trees in your way.”

  “Sounds simple,” Yeta said.

  She sat on the ground, rubbing her feet.

  “It is. We will wait for you at the chapel.”

  Gideon and Yeta nodded and watched the three holy people walk away in the direction of the church.

  “Well I, for one, am glad to be without their company for a while,” Yeta said, when they looked far enough away,

  “They didn’t have many jokes,” Gideon said, and they both laughed.

  “Have you seen them again? The children?”

  Yeta nodded.

  “They’re everywhere, Gideon, and I’m frightened. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.”

  “You could try asking them,” Gideon said. “They spoke to you before.”

  *

  Yeta looked at the children. They stood, heads bowed, a strange blue glow about them.

  “Hello,” she said, nervously. She wanted to sound more confident, but couldn’t. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  This time, it was the wind through the trees that spoke their words.

  “Go,” the children said. “Go with them.”

  “This is the right thing to do?”

  “Go with them,” the children repeated.

  Yeta turned to Gideon. She half-smiled.

  “They say to go…”

  The children looked up at her and spoke again.

  “Go with them and kill them,” they said. “And give us nothing.”

  Signatures

  Pinto rested with Sogal by his feet. Berra had allowed them the use of her room, and Pinto was grateful for it. He was not worried about the woman or her motives, he was only worried about Fijefel.

  She had told him any attempt on the prison where his friend was being kept would not end well. There were too many guards, and their technology, whatever that word meant, was far superior to his own.

  The drink Berra had given him was helping. Though still tired, his muscles seemed to ache less. He would sleep soon, and after the sleep he would think again about what he should be doing. Pinto was a warrior after all, and warriors were p
eople of action.

  The man fell asleep. Sogal stayed awake, though closed his eyes. The old woman didn’t come in, and that was good.

  *

  Berra went about her evening as she would have done on any other day. There was no need to change her routine, especially if any air-spies were watching. The mixture she’d given the travellers would dampen their signature against the spies enough to avoid suspicion, but should they detect any changes in her regular activities, they were sure to send foot soldiers, and they wouldn’t be so easy to fool.

  The box made a vibrating noise. Berra, standing by the sink, went over to the pile of rugs in the corner. She lifted them off, one by one, until she uncovered it. There was a message for her from her friend.

  It read: “New prisoner arrived. Alert has been issued. Will wait and watch.”

  Berra was pleased. In a world so hungry for death, someone had managed to stay alive. She reached down and wiped the message from the screen. She would let the man know the good news when he woke.

  Moths to a Flame

  Jenza slept, Harrar at her side. Aponser had dressed the woman’s arm as best she could, and now she sat watching them both.

  They were coming. This was what she knew. This was what she had always known. No matter where she went, they would follow her. She couldn’t let them catch up. Catching up meant returning, and she couldn’t return.

  She’d put it off for as long as she could, and it had worked. She now knew the location of the fabled spear, for that was surely what her father had told Jenza to find. Once she set foot in the Court of Kings she was certain she would be able to sense its exact location.

  Aponser looked back at the sleeping woman. She was strong, and powerful. They would be diverted. She knew how they worked. They would see the Ja and they would have a new person to Harvest. Like moths to a flame she remembered someone saying to her once, and Jenza burned brightly.

  She would buy the old woman time enough to find the spear.

  The hawk watched her intently. Aponser didn’t mind. What could it do? She packed her bag, only taking enough for the trip ahead, and packed Jenza’s bag too. She left that near the woman.