Chanter ate the bowl of beans and meat in a spicy sauce with relish, enjoying the steady thrum of Crayash. The absence of Dolana did not bother him very much, though he missed it, as he always did when he took bird form. He had never had reason to control a Power for so long before, and found it interesting. Just for fun, he snuffed out several street lanterns that a lamp lighter had just lighted on the street below, smiling at the soft curses that arose. As the man returned to relight the lamps, Chanter relighted them for him, and the man muttered afresh.
The next morning, Cusak, Jashon and Tranton arrived with the breakfast tray, which the servant deposited and left. Cusak moved to the railing and stared at the Hashon Jahar.
"When does the fire fall?" he asked.
"At the same time it arose three days ago," Chanter replied.
The governor turned to glare at him. "You don't care that they'll ride in here and annihilate this city."
"No."
Jashon cursed. "You damned scum!"
Talsy said, "If Chanter had not come here, you would all have died three days ago. At least you've had time to prepare yourselves."
Jashon opened his mouth, but Cusak was faster. "Is there no way we can persuade you to hold the wall longer?"
Chanter shook his head. "No."
Cusak glanced at Tranton, who coughed and said, "We have your true name."
"You know it, but I didn't give it to you, so there's no power in it."
Talsy asked, "Why don't you just accept the fact that you're beaten and start praying that the Black Riders leave?"
Cusak ignored her, gazing at the fire wall. Tranton fiddled with his belt and Jashon scowled. Something about their stance aroused her suspicions, and she studied them more closely. Cusak looked a little too calm, Tranton appeared nervous, but Jashon seemed positively smug. She scrutinised him, but, other than his odd attitude, nothing about him struck her as unusual. Turning to Tranton, she eyed the belt with which he fiddled. It was a simple cord of woven hemp, but she had not seen him wearing it before, and it looked a lot newer than the rest of his grubby outfit.
Talsy took Chanter's hand in a casual gesture and led him away from the Truemen. Out of earshot, she whispered, "I'm sure Tranton has gold in his belt. He's going to try to trap you."
The Mujar nodded. "He won't."
Talsy shot him a nervous glance before turning away once more. The Hashon Jahar still remained at rest beyond the flames, and, in the city below, groups of men armed with an assortment of weapons waited. No women or children were about, however. Evidently they had gone to the other side of the river, so the bridges could be burnt to give them time to escape. The battle plan was good, but against the Black Riders it probably stood little hope of saving more than a few.
Time dragged by as the sun crept higher. Only the muttering of the men below and the harsh cawing of crows broke the hush. Cusak stared at the Black Riders; Tranton tied knots in his new belt, then undid them. Jashon stood at the back of the platform, his arms folded.
The tension broke when Cusak straightened with an oath. "They're leaving!"
Talsy turned to stare across the barrier, the heat shimmer making it hard to see. The Hashon Jahar milled around, some still on foot, others mounted. The rest mounted and moved into their former line beyond the fire. Cusak shot the Mujar a dark glance.
"Either that, or they know the fire wall is about to fall."
Chanter ignored him and watched the Riders. Their line formed, they headed upriver, parallel to the fire wall. The leaders followed the fire around towards the river, and Talsy wondered if they were going to try to cross it. Then the column turned to follow the river upstream, and she let out her pent breath in a great sigh. Cusak banged his fists on the railing.
"They are leaving!"
On the city wall, lookouts shouted, and the men in the streets cheered. Jashon joined the governor to watch avidly as the column of Hashon Jahar gathered speed, the horses breaking into a gallop that carried them swiftly away. The faint jingle of armour mingled with the drumming of hooves, and the head of the column was already lost in dust. The end of the column still passed the fire wall, row upon row of them, four abreast.
Chanter said, "Wish fulfilled."
"No!" Cusak shouted, but, even as he did, the flames winked out, causing a vacuum that filled with a thump of air, raising a cloud of dust.
"You bastard!" Jashon lunged at Chanter, and Cusak leapt at the same time, colliding with him. The two reeled apart, clutched bruised shoulders and glared at each other. Talsy pulled out her hunting knife and stepped back, bumping into Chanter. He gripped her shoulders to steady her, and a sheet of flame shot up between them and the Truemen. Cusak and Jashon stumbled back, raising their arms to protect their faces. When they had retreated far enough, Chanter let the flames dwindle to waist height.
"You have nothing to fear," he told them. "They won't return."
"How the hell do you know that?" Jashon snarled.
"See for yourselves."
The Truemen turned to look at the column of Black Riders, whose speed and direction remained the same. The last of them galloped past the unprotected city as if it did not exist.
"They may still turn around," Cusak pointed out.
Chanter shook his head. "No."
The governor scowled at Chanter's lack of explanation, but the reason dawned on Talsy. "They won't, because they don't know that the fire wall won't be raised against them again. All they know is that a Mujar protects this city, and it's therefore impregnable. Right?" She glanced at Chanter.
He smiled. "Yes."
Cusak gave a sour grunt, and Jashon muttered to Tranton, who fingered his belt. In the city, the silence that had fallen when the fire wall winked out now filled with muted cheering and shouting. The Black Riders continued to gallop away, dwindling into the distance upriver.
Chanter patted her shoulder. "Time to leave."
Talsy nodded, wondering how they were going to get past the three hateful men who blocked their way. A rush of wind ruffled her hair, and the air filled with the sound of beating wings. A raven winged away into the blue sky, and the sheet of fire died. Jashon stepped forward, leering.
"Left you in the lurch, didn't he, Mujar whore?"
"No, he's watching, but, unlike him, I have no compunction about killing." She brandished the knife.
Jashon started towards her, but Tranton grabbed him. "Leave her, she's not worth it. We've lost him, but at least the city's safe."
"Mujar bitch!" Jashon raged. "Filthy yellow scum lover! You should go in the Pit too!"
Talsy, filled with sudden courage and deep wish to hurt the man who had tortured Chanter, beckoned to him. "Come on then, try it! Ingrate! Torturer! Stinking Trueman savage!"
Clearly incensed, Jashon shook Tranton off and charged. Talsy jumped aside and slashed with her knife. A line of blood appeared down Jashon's arm, and he howled with rage. She ducked under his swinging fist and slashed again, opening a wound across his belly. Jashon roared and lunged, but missed once more as Talsy spun away in time. As he ran past, she stuck out her foot, sending him sprawling. He leapt up, red faced, and threw himself at her. Talsy flung herself aside, and Jashon hit the railing. The old wood cracked under the impact and gave way. With a wailing scream, Jashon plunged over the edge.
Talsy panted, staring at the gap in the railings. Tranton made an inarticulate sound and went to peer over the edge, his face ashen. He turned to her with glinting eyes.
"Murderess!"
She shook her head. "It was a fair fight. He got careless. I never meant to kill him."
"You drove him to it! You goaded him!"
"He started it."
Tranton turned to Cusak. "Call the guard! Arrest her! She must hang for this!"
The governor eyed Talsy. "We can't."
"Why not?"
Cusak pointed upwards. "He's watching, and she's his clan."
Tranton spat vile curses. "He's left her! He didn't protect her from Jasho
n."
"There was no need," Talsy pointed out.
Tranton glared at her, his thin, wrinkled face twisted with grief and hate. "Jashon was right, you should go to the Pit."
Cusak went to the trap door. "We can't punish her, but I'd like to see her get out of this city in one piece. She won't get any protection from my soldiers."
Talsy raised her chin. "A far greater man than you protects me."
Tranton spat on the floor. "He's not a man, you stupid whore. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
"He's a better man than you've ever been, or any Trueman in this city. He's got more decency in his little finger than the lot of you put together."
Cusak snorted. "Tranton, let's go. You have a funeral to arrange."
Tranton turned away with a growl, and she called after them, "Thanks to a Mujar, the rest of you will live!"
As they vanished down the stairs with a parting glare, Talsy slumped against a wooden upright, her knees weak. Jashon's death shocked and sickened her. She had only meant to cut him a little, to let him feel some of the pain he had inflicted on Chanter. She forced herself to move, the urgency of quitting this terrible city before word of the tragedy spread and mobs of angry people laid siege to the tower goading her. Sheathing the knife, she shouldered the bag and headed for the stairs.
In the street, the men who had gathered to defend the wall sat drinking and talking. A crowd surrounded Jashon's crumpled body, and Tranton's voice rose in shrill outrage from its midst. She slipped from the tower and hurried away in the direction of the river. The deserted streets allowed her to reach the bridge unhampered. No guards demanded toll, and she trotted across the stout structure.
On the far side, the city's population packed the streets, forcing her to push her way through. She kept her head down, but the fear of being recognised drove her to buy a hooded cloak from a street vendor. Thus disguised, she pushed on. The main thoroughfare went straight through the city, a wide dirty road at the end of which the far gates were visible over the heads of the masses. She was almost halfway there when someone shouted, "Hey! It's the Mujar whore!"
People recoiled from her, leaving her in a pocket of emptiness. Shouted insults flew thick and fast.
"Look at her, running like a whipped dog!"
"Scum lover!"
"Where's your Mujar now, bitch?"
"What's it like to lie with an animal?"
"Run, filthy slut!"
Talsy kept her pace to a fast walk, refusing to give them the satisfaction of chasing her. Rotten fruit, vegetables, eggs and stones flew at her. Most missed, but a few scored hits, and the stones stung. The crowd followed, keeping up a flow of vitriol that soon lost its originality. A rotten tomato hit her on the cheek, and the mob grew bolder. The city gates beckoned, two grinning soldiers waiting at them.
A particularly large rock, hurled with some accuracy at her head, exploded in mid-air. Talsy looked around, startled by the bang and the rain of hot sand that hit her. The crowd hesitated, many looking up. High above, a big bird hung like a cross in the sky. For a minute the missiles and the shouts stopped, then the Mujar's intervention seemed to enrage the mob beyond control, and with a roar it charged her. Talsy broke into a run for a few steps, but hundreds of angry, stick-waving people blocked her way. She stopped, a frisson of fear running through her.
A circle of blue fire exploded into being around her with a great thump. The crowd's forerunners, pushed by those behind, stumbled into it and recoiled with screams of pain. The throng surged back, roaring its hatred like a giant, many-headed beast. Talsy walked on, the circle of fire staying with her in a hissing wall that scorched the earth and left it blackened. People scrambled out of her way, clearing a path to the gates. Missiles still flew, but most did not make it through the fire's heat. Another large and well-aimed rock exploded beside her. Several archers with longbows shot at the big bird high above, but their arrows burst into flames before they reached the Mujar.
The soldiers at the gates pulled them open when she reached them, for they, like her, clearly had no doubt that the fire would burn a path through them if necessary. A final barrage of insults followed her out of the city, then the gates slammed shut behind her, cutting off the virulence of the city's inhabitants. The ring of fire winked out, and Talsy breathed a deep sigh of fresh, chill air as she hastened away, glad to be back in the open. She made herself a silent promise never to reveal her Mujar companion in a city again. Yet, for good or ill, he had saved those people, fanning their resentment to new heights.
Two miles up the road, an eagle glided down to land on the road before her. A rush of wind and the sound of beating wings accompanied his change, and Chanter stood before her. Her misery overwhelmed her, and she dropped her bag to run into his arms. Chanter held her, patting her back in his awkward manner.
"Hush, it's over now."
Talsy sobbed into his chest. "I hate them! They're loathsome! The Hashon Jahar should have wiped them out!"
"Don't think such terrible things," he remonstrated. "They're just -"
Talsy jerked away. "If you tell me they're just ignorant or confused, I'll kick you!" She wiped her eyes. "They're filled with hate! They're cruel, nasty bastards, the lot of them. Now I know why you won't help them. They don't deserve it."
He patted her shoulder. "Come, let's find a stream for you to wash in."
"I killed Jashon," she blurted.
"I know."
"You're not angry?"
"Why should I be?" He picked up the bag. "You're free to do as you wish. The choice was yours, although it was an accident."
Talsy fell into step beside him. "I wanted to hurt him for what he did to you."
"There was no need. Revenge has no purpose."
"It would have made me feel better, but he fell."
"So now you feel worse."
Talsy nodded. Chanter walked on, and in a way she was glad of his indifference. They left the city's cultivated lands and entered the woods beyond, where they camped beside a stream. Chanter persuaded her to bathe in the icy water, joining her to wash away the last traces of dried blood. That night, after dining on bread and cheese, Chanter lay with her to warm her before leaving her for the night's wildness.
Chapter Nine
Talsy stared at the giant plant with deep misgivings. Something told her that it was dangerous, and she longed to move away. Chanter gazed across the acres of massive leaves spread flat on the ground like lily pads, a profusion of thin black roots supporting them. Looping stems joined them, carrying their goodness back to the plant's centre, where a tall stamen rose in the distance. The deep gold leaves were edged in black and veined with electric blue, the stems blood red.
Four days ago, they had left the cool forest behind and set out across a seemingly endless plain. Massive herds of strange beasts cropped the short green grass that covered it. Chanter, in the form of the black stallion, had covered the ground at a steady gallop, apparently as tireless as the Hashon Jahar's steeds. A distant, hazy blue mountain range lay ahead, but Chanter had stopped when they had come across the giant plant. Talsy sensed that some mysterious means had drawn him to it, and his silence over the last few nights had worried her. She feared that she had offended him somehow.
Chanter turned to her, his level brows drawn together. "Wait here." He paused. "No, wait over there." He gestured beyond her, and she backed away, unsure of his strange behaviour. He nodded when she had retreated ten paces. "Don't come closer."
Turning away, he stepped onto the nearest leaf, which writhed, its edges curling up, pulling out its roots. She thought he would be engulfed, but then it settled back. The Mujar hesitated, then stepped onto the next leaf. It remained flat, and he walked on, taking long strides across the gaps. Talsy watched him, anxious and afraid. She longed to call him back, but knew, deep in her heart, that he would not heed her. This was a Mujar secret, and not for her ken. She was sure the plant was dangerous; she could almost sense the waves of hostility from it, as i
f it was a sentient being.
Settling on the ground, she hoped he would not be too long, and, most of all, that he would return. His slender figure dwindled in the distance, dwarfed by the massive stamen that rose into the sky beyond him like a giant, curling tower.
Chanter walked towards the stamen, careful to step on the leaves. He sensed that to slip between them would be dangerous, even for him. A strange, inexplicable urge tugged at his core, drawing him to the centre of the plant. The Powers seemed distant, unreachable, as if the plant had greater control over them than he did. He had sensed it far out in the plains, and the closer he had got, the stronger it had become. Now the pull was too potent to resist, and it had been a strain to pause long enough to warn Talsy to stay away. Strangely, as he walked closer, his emotions drained out of him. The deep rage in his bones, which flared when he was abused, ebbed. Even the friendship and gentle affection he had for the girl leaked away, leaving him empty, without a will or purpose.
Chanter became aware that he no longer walked across leaves, but up a long, broad path of glittering gold, seamed with fire-blue and edged with black. On either side, other broad golden petals narrowed. He crossed a flower so vast that he could not see it in its entirety. The stamen towered above him, tall enough to touch the clouds. He knew he had travelled a long way, but could not recall the journey. His legs carried him forward, and that was where he wished to go.
Stepping off the petal, he walked over a deep red carpet that yielded under his feet. Before him, the stamen's base bulked larger than a house, as pure white as driven snow. It appeared to be made up of filmy, translucent petals that overlapped. As he approached, the petals peeled back to reveal a crimson core, the true base of the mighty stamen, and released a heady scent that numbed his brain. In a dream-like state, he stepped onto the white petals and entered the flower's heart. The stamen's base was a golden tower, and the plant's lure washed all else from his mind, as if he had not existed until now.
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