The Broken World Book One - Children of Another God

by T C Southwell

  Talsy pondered that, and the King smiled. She said, “Perhaps they like it the way it is.”

  “Well, we don’t. Our lives are hard, and they could change all that and be rewarded handsomely for it. They could be rich and powerful, but they would rather go to the Pits.”

  “Cultivating the land would have repercussions. Wild animals would die, soil would be washed into the sea, rivers would silt up, and cities would breed more people to pollute the air with smoke and cut trees for building and burning. For a while, things would be good, but your descendants would pay the price.”

  The King leant forward. “Just whose side are you on, anyway?”

  “Why do you say they’re uncaring?”

  “Because they wouldn’t lift a finger to save a drowning child! They stand by while villages die of plague, crops fail and people starve when they could so easily help them.”

  That was a tough one. Talsy had problems with it herself. “But what have you done to earn their care? Why should they help people who don’t even help each other? I’ve seen children starving on the streets of Horran, and no Trueman had the decency to save them, so why should Mujar?”

  “We do the best we can, but sometimes there’s not enough food. Mujar could make our crops grow well enough to feed everyone. It’s not that we don’t care, but they certainly do not.”

  “That’s not true. Farmers grow more than enough food, but they won’t allow those with no money to eat it. They’d rather plough it back into the soil.”

  He shook his head, tapping the table. Clearly she was annoying him. “That’s economics, and it’s harsh, I agree. If Mujar helped, there would be no need for anyone to starve. But why will they stand by and let an innocent child drown? Tell me that, if you can.”

  She hesitated. “Perhaps… it was the child’s fate.”

  “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to change it.”

  Talsy thought about the young prince Chanter had saved, whom the Hashon Jahar had killed only a few months later. Also, Horran, whose fate Chanter had also delayed. Yet he had saved her when she had almost drowned, and then the sherlon had rescued her, too. She was not being allowed to die, while others did not seem able to avoid it. There was a lesson in there somewhere. She remembered the tormented Kuran, dying because of Truemen’s cruelty, and the strange creatures that had appeared after Rashkar had fallen, beasts that Truemen would have slaughtered or enslaved. Her race had sealed its fate long before Mujar had arrived. She had the answer, although it grieved her to say it. The King shifted, waiting.

  She said, “They were not worthy.”

  Talsy woke on warm sand, surf pounding the shore nearby. Chanter lay beside her, propped up on one elbow, most of his lean length off the sand.

  He smiled. “So, you’re back.”

  She sat up and gazed at the peaceful vista of sea and sand, sky and mewling gulls. Everything was the same, as if no time had passed, although it seemed like hours had gone by. She turned to the smiling Mujar, who chewed a blade of grass.

  “What happened to me?”

  Chanter spat the grass out and sat up, looking serious. “I believe you were tested.”

  “By whom?”

  “The gods.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Because I chose you,” he said.

  “Was it real?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did I pass?”

  His smile returned, revealing even white teeth. “If I had a mirror, I’d show you.”

  “Show me what?”

  “The Mujar mark on your forehead.”

  She rubbed her brow. “What does it look like?”

  “A circle with a cross through it.”

  “What colour?”

  He laughed and lay back. “You’ve just passed the gods’ test and changed the fate of the world, but you’re worried about the colour of the mark on your forehead?”

  Talsy grinned and pounced on him, holding him down. “Tell me, or I won’t let you up.”

  “You’re cruel. You don’t deserve to be chosen.”

  Dozens of questions itched in her mind, sparked by his comments, yet she would not be side-tracked, and thumped him. “Tell me!”

  “Blue, okay?”

  She leant on his chest. “Now tell me how I’ve changed the fate of the world.”

  “No. First tell me what you learnt.”

  She thought about the visions, if that was what they had been. “Well, the Mujar in the Pits are trapped in sticky black stuff.”

  “Earth blood.” He grimaced. “No wonder they can’t get free.”

  “What’s earth blood?”

  “The sticky black stuff.”

  She thumped him again. “Don’t be funny.”

  “No, you’re right, it’s not funny. Earth blood is found deep underground, in the Pits, obviously. It’s the most powerful source of Dolana, like concentrated Earthpower. It burns, but it is foul stuff, and very dangerous for Mujar.”

  “The Hashon Jahar control Dolana.”

  “Really? That’s interesting. Only Dolana?”

  “I think so,” she replied. “That’s all I saw.”

  “Hmm. What else?”

  “Mujar won’t help Truemen because they’re not worthy.”

  “Ah.” He raised a finger. “That, I knew.”

  “You didn’t tell me when I asked you.”

  “You weren’t ready. It must be hard for you to accept, even now.”

  Talsy sighed. “I’ve seen what Truemen have done. It’s not only the way they treat Mujar; they treat everything badly. They have no respect for animals or plants and trees. They take and destroy, kill and enslave, giving nothing back.”

  “They?” His brows rose.

  “I don’t want to think of myself as a Trueman. Can’t I be Mujar?”

  He laughed. “I’m afraid not, my little clan. But you now have a Mujar mark, so the gods agree with me.”

  “So, tell me more.”

  “Well, it’s a double-edged sword, as they all are.” He paused, his manner pensive. “The Mujar mark means you’ll never be able to hunt and kill again, but it also means beasts will no longer fear you. The souls, like the Kuran, won’t harm you. They may even help you, if you ask nicely.”

  “Why were you struck down and stuck to the sand?”

  He squirmed, looking away. “Well, that was sort of punishment, if you like. I guess they never expected it to happen, so when I marked you they were a little angry.”

  “What did they do?”

  “Just gave me a good talking to, told me I was a naughty boy and sent me back to watch over you.”

  Talsy grinned. Although he had become friendlier in the time they had spent together, she had sensed his reticence in his guarded looks and the questions he would not answer. Now his demeanour was open and friendly, and gentle affection shone in his eyes.

  “But I wasn’t here,” she said.

  “Of course you were. Only your spirit left.”

  “Oh. You mean I was unconscious?”

  “Sort of.” He chuckled. “You did a lot of moaning and muttering.”

  She pulled a face. “How have I changed the fate of the world, and what does it mean to be chosen?”

  “Ah.” He poked her in the ribs. “I’ll tell you when you get off me.”

  She obliged, and he sat up with a sigh. “That was getting uncomfortable.” He brushed sand from his hair, and she prodded him.

  “Talk.”

  “Okay, okay. You’ve been chosen as worthy, which means you’re not like the rest of your race. You’re not selfish, cruel or greedy. That changes the fate of the world, because now all who are good, although they may not be as worthy as you, must be saved. It’s one of the laws of retribution.”

  “From the Hashon Jahar?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What are they?”

  “I only know what I already told you.”

  She sighed. “So what did the te
sts mean?”

  He plucked another blade of grass from the sparse growth on the dunes. “First you’ll have to tell me what happened.”

  She recounted each test in detail, and he pondered them when she finished.

  “The first,” he explained, “was of loyalty. They wanted to know whether you would help all Mujar, or just me. The second was of objectivity, to see if you would condemn your own people for their sins. You could have saved them all.”

  “But they didn’t deserve it. What about the third?”

  “That’s a tricky one. I think they wanted to see how well you understood the situation, why your race is being destroyed. They wanted to hear you argue against your own kind.”

  “I see. So what happens now?”

  He shrugged. “Beats me; I’m not a god. When I find out, I’ll tell you.”

  “How will you find out?”

  “They’ll tell me.”

  “The gods?”

  He nodded.

  “There’s still so much I don’t understand,” she grumbled. “I wish I knew all of it.”

  “So do I.”

  She rose to her feet, brushing sand from her trousers. “I’m hungry.”

  Back at the cave, Talsy put some vegetables and shellfish that she had gathered that morning in a pot and placed it on the fire. While the stew bubbled, she pondered what he had told her and the possible ramifications of her new status.

  She indicated the mark on her forehead. “Does this give me any powers?”

  He laughed and shook his head, but then his mirth died. “Well, in a way it does. It protects you, although not from Truemen, of course. But you can ask souls for help, which means that, in a way, you control what they do: the trees, the sea, the earth, fire and the wind. But then, you won’t need to do that unless something happens to me.”

  “Like if you decide to break clan bond.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Clan bond was broken the moment I marked you. What we have now can never be broken.”

  “How can that be?” She frowned. “That means you’ve lost your freedom.”

  “No, it means you’ve gained yours.”

  “Explain.”

  “You’re Mujar marked. You don’t need protection from animals or souls, so you don’t need me.”

  Her heart sank. “You’re going to leave?”

  “No.” He hesitated. “Not now. Not completely. I may leave if I wish, but I’ll always return.”

  Talsy sagged, a warm rush of joy banishing her lingering doubts. His declaration eased the aching void that had always existed within her, a longing for love and security that her father’s possessive affection had never completely satisfied. She blinked away tears.

  Chanter stirred the stew. “One day you may want me to go, and then I shall.”

  “Never!” she said. “Why would I?”

  “You belong with your people, and one day you’ll meet a man with whom you wish to stay. I doubt he’ll want me around.”

  “I want to stay with you.”

  He shook his head, gazing into the pot. “I can never give you what you want.”

  “You don’t know what I want.”

  “I do. Love. Marriage. A family.”

  “No. I’d rather have you.”

  He smiled at her. “You’re still young. Your feelings will change, and I can’t give you what you’ll want then.”

  “You’re not Trueman, and you don’t understand us as well as you think you do.”

  “Don’t I?” He looked away. “Time will tell.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next day, she discovered the difference the Mujar mark made. The strange, beautiful creatures no longer fled her approach, but treated her with the same fearlessness they accorded Chanter. Talsy stroked their velvet skins and the strange leaf-like fronds that grew on them. Up close, she discovered they had a delicious smell that made her mouth water. Chanter came to stand beside her, plucked a frond from the creature she was stroking and ate it.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, surprised when the beast merely glanced at Chanter.

  He plucked another frond and held it out. “Try it.”

  She took it with an uncertain frown. “Doesn’t it hurt them?”

  “No.”

  Talsy nibbled the frond, which tasted as delicious as it smelt. Chanter smiled and plucked another for her, eating one himself.

  “What are they?” she asked.

  “Creatures of this world. The ones that were here before Truemen came.”

  “Where have they been?”

  He shrugged. “Around. Living where there are no Truemen.” He plucked another frond. “This one is a food beast. It lives on the earth, like a tree. You see that its legs are in the soil?”

  She nodded. It was one of the stilt-legged species that pushed its legs into the ground and stood there all day.

  Chanter explained, “It takes goodness from the earth, like a plant.” He pointed at a beast that basked in the sun. “That one lives on the light, also like trees, and eats soil.” He indicated a long, multi-coloured beast with a snake-like head. “That one is a predator. It eats the food beasts’ fronds.”

  “It doesn’t kill them?”

  “No beast of this world kills other creatures.”

  “Except the Hashon Jahar,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “But surely, without predators to control their numbers, there would be too many of them?”

  “No. They breed slowly.”

  The creature they ate hooted, so Chanter went over to another to continue the feast. The peaceful vista entranced Talsy. Food beasts absorbed goodness from the soil or sun, while predators wandered amongst them, plucking fronds. This was, she realised, a world without killing, bloodshed and pain; a perfect world. The frond she ate tasted like a sweet fruit. Different types of food beasts had different flavours, she discovered, and their fronds were bloodless.

  “They’re not really animals, are they?” she asked. “They’re plants.”

  “In as much as they’re not entirely flesh and blood, yes, they’re partly plants. But they have brains and feelings; they mate and give birth in a similar way to your animals.”

  “What do you mean, ‘my animals’?”

  “Trueman animals: horses, dogs, wolves.”

  “Did we bring them with us?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” he said. “The gods created them from the memories of the men who came in the silver bird that fell from the sky.”

  She stared at him, amazed.

  After that, the food beasts provided all the nourishment they needed, and Talsy thrived on the new diet. They lived a simple, peaceful existence, and the balmy days were the happiest she had ever known. She frolicked on the beach with Chanter, played with the gentle sea creatures and, through Chanter, spoke to the sherlon. He taught her something of what it was to be Mujar, at one with this colourful world so rich with joy. She discovered the wonder of being truly free, not only from the constraints of society, but the stigma of being Trueman and feared by the wild beasts.

  The only flaw in her utopia was that Chanter vanished into the sea every night. The first time she woke alone, she lay awake until he returned, wet and wild from the ocean. She realised, however, that she could never hope to tame a creature as wild as Chanter, and resigned herself to his absence when the call of the wild lured him away. She did not want to tame him, though. One of his best aspects was his wildness, which made him impossible to control, but added to his strange allure.

  Three weeks later, Chanter decided that they should move on. The Wish he had granted Mishak remained unfulfilled, and he still had to find Arrin, if he lived. He was certain the boy would have headed up the coast to the next town, where he could earn the fare to cross the Narrow Sea. He knew the chances of finding Arrin were slim, and Mishak might have succumbed to the Hashon Jahar too by now, yet he had to try.

  Talsy packed her bag and mounted the black stallion, which carried
her up the coastal road at an untiring canter. Within a few days, they passed two ruined towns, and at each one Chanter tested the wind and the earth for signs of Arrin. Deciding that Arrin would have continued up the coast if he did not cross the sea, they continued onwards.

  Over the next two weeks, they encountered many scenes of death and destruction. The colourful creatures abounded, rooted amongst the debris of Truemen’s downfall. Scavengers had already picked the ruins clean, leaving bleached bones and fallen stones. In the months since Rashkar’s fall, it seemed the Hashon Jahar had wiped out almost all the cities. Occasionally, they came across fields of skeletons, the remains of those who had fled the cities or armies sent to fight the Black Riders. On one of these fields, Chanter stopped beside a pile of bones and sighed.

  Talsy came to stand beside him. “Arrin?”

  He nodded. “Mishak’s Wish has failed. He’ll never see his son again.”

  “If what we’ve seen is anything to go by, Mishak’s dead, too.”

  “Probably. There are a few left, though.”

  “Where are they?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Talsy walked away. “So what do we do now?”

  Chanter followed, carrying the bag. “We must head west, I believe.”

  “Why?”

  “Just a feeling I have.”

  Talsy glanced at him. “Can’t we return to the cave?”

  “No. We’ll travel west.”

  The stallion carried Talsy along deserted roads and through devastated cities, towns and villages. Flattened tracts of ground and stream banks marked the Black Riders’ passage. The trampling of thousands of hooves had churned the grass to mud in broad swathes and created new roads that cut through forest and field. As Talsy and Chanter travelled westwards, the ruins became fresher. Scavengers still frequented some, which gave off the stench of death. The rainbow-hued creatures vanished, and they were forced to return to a diet of vegetables gleaned from the abandoned fields. Deer, sheep and cattle abounded, but Talsy could no longer hunt them; the thought of killing appalled her. She threw away her bow, keeping the knife for digging and cleaning vegetables.

  Three weeks of travel brought them to a rocky coastline and a ruined city. The town had been destroyed no more than a few days before, and flocks of vultures and crows wheeled over it. Chanter avoided it, and they travelled further up the coast before making camp. Talsy built a fire and put up her tent while the Mujar visited the abandoned fields to procure their supper. When he returned, she put the vegetables on to cook and settled on a rock beside him. Noticing smoke rising a few miles away, she pointed it out to him.