The Plains of Kallanash

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The Plains of Kallanash Page 56

by Pauline M. Ross


  “Gather round, everyone,” he called out. “Gantor and I will retrieve Ainsley and the kitchen women. The rest of you can carry on down. We’ll catch you up.”

  “We can wait for you,” Mia said.

  “No, it’s a long way down and the afternoon is wearing away. Tanist will want to know what we found.”

  “I’ll go on ahead and let him know, shall I?” Walst said, and without giving Hurst time to answer, he leapt onto the low wall edging the ramp and jumped over.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Trimon muttered.

  “It’s the quickest way down,” Mia said. “May I…?”

  Hurst’s instinct was to refuse, but he couldn’t think of a good reason. While he was trying to dredge up some excuse, she laughed and jumped onto the wall. “See you at the bottom!” Then she was gone.

  Dethin appeared at his elbow. “Do you want to go after her? I can deal with matters here, if you like.”

  Hurst sighed. “She used to be such a timid little thing. I’m not used to this warrior girl she’s become. No, you stay with her, Dethin, you’ve looked after her well enough so far.”

  He nodded and followed Mia over the edge.

  “Anyone else?” Hurst said, looking at the Nine.

  “In these gowns?” Gaminor said. “I hardly think so.”

  “You go and retrieve your man,” Sylinor said. “We will wait for you, and on the walk down, you can tell us all about yourselves.”

  Hurst found Ainsley and his men sitting round the kitchen table with the five women, all of them drinking coffee. It was such a domesticated scene that he almost laughed, except that the women were all weeping. Ainsley jumped up, a guilty look on his face.

  “Sorry, Commander, but I couldn’t leave them in the bunk room.” He lowered his voice. “The other one – the sick one – she died.”

  “Hmm. Well, I suppose she’ll keep until tomorrow. I daresay that lot down below will know what to do.”

  “Go well, did it, up there?” Ainsley asked. “Find anyone?”

  “Only the Nine,” Hurst said, laughing at Ainsley’s bemused expression. “Come on, let’s get going. Walst already took the quick way down, we need to get moving or the Gods alone know what we’ll find when we catch up with him.”

  51: Council (Mia)

  Mia’s excitement bubbled up inside as she spiralled downwards. Below her, she heard Walst shrieking with glee, and she understood the urge. She laughed out loud, as floor after floor drifted past. Oddly, she felt perfectly safe, as if her feet were resting on something quite solid. With a little experimentation, she found that she could stand on one foot or the other, or on tiptoes, could bend and wave her arms, without feeling in the least unstable. Apart from a few loose ties on her clothes, nothing floated upwards and there was no sensation of air moving past her, and little of movement.

  She wondered if anyone else had followed her, but when she looked up, she saw only Dethin. He was grinning from ear to ear, and waved when he saw her, but he was too far away to talk to. When she looked down and saw the wide circle of floor on the lowest level looming up, she began to worry about landing, but whatever magic was in control deposited her as gently as a feather on the ground.

  She saw Walst nearby, beside a couple of warriors with drawn swords, and beyond them more were racing across the hall.

  “Any more behind you?” That was Lukast, relief in his eyes as he recognised her.

  “Only Dethin, for now.”

  “Move over here, then. We’re not sure how this works, and you don’t want him landing on top of you.”

  “Not with his clothes on, anyway,” Walst called out. Someone smothered a laugh but Lukast rolled his eyes.

  “As if this is a time for joking!” he muttered under his breath.

  “It’s the ride down,” she said with a shrug. “It’s – exhilarating.” She giggled, knowing she shouldn’t but quite unable to stop herself.

  Dethin drifted into view, and laughed out loud as he landed softly.

  “Well, that was fun!” Then he clucked in annoyance. “What are they doing like that?”

  To one side of the hall, the six Silent Guards were roped securely to a row of chairs. Dethin strode swiftly across to them.

  “They just appeared out of nowhere,” Lukast said crossly, chasing after him. “What were we supposed to do with them?” Then, sharply, “Hey! Don’t do that!” as Dethin pulled out a knife and began to cut through their bonds.

  “It’s all right,” Dethin said. “They’re friendly. Ask Mia.”

  “I don’t care what Mia says…” Lukast began, but Dethin was swiftly releasing one after the other.

  “They’re not armed,” Mia said mildly. “They left their weapons up above. You must have checked that, surely?”

  “True, but still… They are Silent Guards.”

  The six stayed seated, their eyes moving warily between Dethin, Lukast and Mia, waiting for the question to be resolved.

  “This one is their leader,” Dethin said. “You won’t try anything, will you?” The man shook his head. “There, you see? Mia, they’re still friendly, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, but… Lukast doesn’t know anything about that.”

  “Oh. Of course.” Dethin turned round fully to face Lukast. “Mia feels things with people the way I do with animals. Emotions and such like. She’d know if there was any hostility in them.”

  Lukast looked disbelieving, but just then there was a rumbling sound, the surrounding ring of warriors parted and Tanist rolled into view in a wheeled chair, his broken leg stuck out in front of him. Pushing him along was Keyramon, the young healer.

  “Well, well, well!” he boomed. “Here you are at last! Where’s Hurst?” There was just the faintest trace of anxiety in his voice.

  “He’s fine,” Mia said, answering the unasked question. “He’s walking down. The three of us took the quick route.”

  “And is it true what the Warlord said?” Tanist said, looking at Mia. “You can read emotions?”

  She nodded. He grunted. It was a long time before he turned his eyes on Dethin. “So why are you releasing these men, Warlord?”

  “They surrendered to us voluntarily,” he said. “We have no quarrel with them, nor they with us. They laid down their arms, and asked permission before leaving their post. They could be useful to us…” Lukast made a choking sound, and Tanist raised an eyebrow. “Well then, send them back to their base – wherever that is.”

  “The Great Temple,” Tanist said. “Isn’t it?” The leader nodded his head. “You really want to send them back there, to the very centre of the whole religion, so they can tell the Slaves exactly what’s going on?”

  “The red sheet is visible now,” Dethin said. “There’s no secret any longer about what’s going on. Before the sun sets tonight, everyone within the Ring will know that the tower is taken, and that there is to be an assembly in three days. These six cannot harm us.”

  “I don’t trust them,” Tanist said. “They’re loyal to them.” The leader shook his head violently. “No? So who are you loyal to, then?”

  The leader gestured to the other five.

  “To each other? Hmm.”

  “We should kill them, Commander, Sir,” said Lukast. “That’s the only way to be safe.”

  “No,” said Dethin quietly. “We set out to do this with the minimum of bloodshed, and we should stick to that. They could have fought us up there today, but they chose not to. Let them go.”

  Tanist stared at him, but in the end he sighed. “You’re right, I suppose. Very well.”

  The Silent Guards rose as one, and bowed respectfully, arms crossed on breasts, first to Dethin and then to Tanist.

  “Yes, yes, yes! Get out of here before I have second thoughts. Off you go. Warlord, show them the way out.” He turned to Mia. “Come and meet our new arrivals. You’re not the only ones having an exciting day, you know.”

  At the far end of the hall, in front of the great doors, were two cha
irs, with two men tied to them. As they drew nearer, she saw they were Trannatta, and when she could see their faces…

  Mia gaped in surprise. But then, a swirl of pure malicious pleasure.

  “Hello, Cristo,” she said, standing over him, hands on hips. “How delightful to meet you again.”

  He looked much the same, at first glance. Only his clothes were different, the nondescript trousers and tunic replaced with fine woollen trousers, worked leather boots and a delicate linen shirt.

  “Do I know you?” he said, staring up at her, not at all alarmed. “I am certain I would remember, if so.” His eyes ran up and down her. Then he smiled – the same smile she recalled from the field where she had first met him, the amused smile of contempt that was etched on her memory.

  Rage boiled up inside her. She slammed her hand across his irritating face as hard as she could. Her gloves were not the fully mailed variety the warriors wore, but they were solid enough to leave a deep red imprint on Cristo’s face. A trickle of blood spilt from one lip as his face registered sudden shock. She felt fear well up inside him, and that brought a smile to her own face.

  Leaning on the arms of the chair so that her face was inches from his, she said, “Remember me now, Cristo? Not so smug this time around, are you?”

  “I do – I do remember you, of course. Although – you have changed a bit.” His eyes were wide with alarm.

  “So I have. That’s what happens when you send people to live amongst the barbarians, Cristo. They change. And they get mad at what’s been done to them, and sometimes they come back looking for revenge.”

  The fear in him was white hot now, a boiling cauldron of terror. She laughed out loud, and turned to Tanist, who was watching her with a mixture of amusement and astonishment.

  “Shall we deal with him the same way as Dondro?” she said. “Or maybe not – all that screaming. Perhaps we should just chop him up and toss him into the lake?”

  The other man had watched this exchange with increasing alarm, and now he made a strangled noise in his throat. There was a sudden strong smell of urine.

  Walst burst out laughing. “He’s pissed himself! Mia made him piss himself, did you ever see anything like it? Gods, Mia, remind me never to get on the wrong side of you!”

  Tanist interrupted curtly. “Trondior, Lukast, see that this one gets some clean clothes. No one will be chopped up – not yet. Mia, Walst, come through to my office and tell me what happened today.”

  He signalled to Keyramon, and she pushed him briskly across the hallway to an open door.

  “His office?” Walst mouthed, and Mia shrugged, just as mystified.

  ~~~

  It was hours before Hurst arrived. The Nine swept into the middle of the hallway, looking around them with great interest, for all the world like visitors on a tour of a historic building. The five cooks huddled in a distressed cluster, and were immediately scooped up by Tenya and taken off to the kitchens for a reviving drink.

  “What took you so long?” Mia murmured to Hurst, as they watched Tanist chase around after one God or another trying to introduce himself.

  “They kept getting distracted by the books,” he said, rolling his eyes. “They’re worse than you, I think. And look at them – they’ve been locked up in their eyrie for so long, a taste of freedom has gone to their heads.”

  Mia laughed, and for a while they stood watching as the Nine investigated every room, and talked to everyone, clearly thrilled to have new company, while Tanist and several men tried to herd them into an empty bunk room for safety. It was a moment to savour, the successful conclusion of a day of uncertainties. She was pleased, too, to have Hurst beside her again, with no duties or distractions for either of them to attend to.

  Then, with a stab of fear, she noticed that Dethin was nowhere to be seen. She had barely begun to look around for him when there was a commotion around the door from the tunnel. There he was! Relief flooded through her, and she laughed out loud, waving when she saw him looking round for her.

  He waved back, a little smile on his face. He had four companions, all wearing the blue coats of scholars, who were immediately surrounded and led away.

  “They got here quickly,” Hurst said.

  ~~~

  Tanist held a meeting in his office. During the few hours they had been gone, he had already commandeered a room, reorganised the furniture and begun systematically interviewing the captives. Now that contact had been made with the scholars, however, the planning moved on a stage.

  “Right,” Tanist said, “we have our assembly scheduled for three days from now. We need to prepare for that, and begin thinking about the necessary steps beyond that. Assuming we are all still here then, of course, and not awaiting execution.”

  He was clearly not expecting anything of the sort, for he beamed around the room at the assembled faces.

  There were twelve of them. Tanist’s Companion, Groonerst, was there, just as Hurst had Gantor with him. Of the Nine, only Sylinor and Pashinor were present, for Tanist had refused to have more than two of them. “We’ll get nothing done, otherwise,” he said. “Never saw such uncontrollable Gods.”

  The four scholars were there, sitting together. To Mia’s pleasure, one of them was Gantor’s father, Danzor, although she hardly recognised him here, away from his den in the library. Another man was of similar age, and the remaining two, a man and a woman, were younger, no more than fifty.

  Dethin was there too. He was no longer Warlord, but the warriors from beyond the border still regarded him as their leader and Tanist treated him with respect. Mia had no idea why she was summoned. She would have thought such skill as she had with locks was no longer needed. She was there, nevertheless, seated between Dethin and Hurst.

  Tanist briefly told the scholars of their journey through the tunnels, then Hurst told of the climb up the tower. That took some time since the scholars were fascinated by the Nine, and had many questions about their situation. Sylinor and Pashinor were only too happy to elaborate, at exhaustive length. Eventually, they got to Dethin and Mia found out where he had been. It was the first time he had spoken.

  “The Silent Guards had been given permission to leave,” he began, “but they told me they normally left by way of the lift behind the kitchens…”

  “How? How did they tell you?” one of the scholars asked. She was leaning forward in her excitement.

  “Oh – by gestures, really. If someone asks them a question, they answer with gestures. I asked them how they usually leave, and they went through to the lift, but they don’t know how to operate it any more than we do. So I took them down the way we came up – through the hall with the stick men, and then down to the Hall of Light with the eight tunnels around it. I had no idea which one would lead to the Great Temple, but I knew they would know. I asked if I could go with them, and they agreed to it…”

  “Why was that?” said Gantor. “Didn’t you trust them?”

  “Oh yes, but they obviously know the way into the Great Temple from the tunnel and I wanted to know how they do that. We couldn’t see any obvious exits, remember? So they took the tunnel three round from where we came in, and – we were right, the exits are in those odd little alcoves. They showed me how to open the door – you have to place your hand in exactly the right place and push.”

  “Did you go inside?” the scholar said excitedly.

  “No. They told me not to – it’s not safe. They told me—” He made a slicing motion across his neck. “I assume their fellows protect all the entrances. They were tame enough here, but it’s their job to defend the temple.”

  “Pity,” she said. “I’d love to get some inside knowledge of the underground parts of the Great Temple. It’s vast, you know – like a miniature city. But we’ve never dared to try it. Sorry – carry on.”

  “Not much more to tell. I remembered we’d left some kit in the carts, so I went to get a few bags, and when I got back to the Hall of Light, these four were there.” He indicated the
scholars.

  “So you knew all about the tunnels all the time,” Gantor said in aggrieved tones. “When my brother came – Drantior gave no indication, none at all. We discussed the idea with him and Missandra at length.”

  “He knew they were there,” Mia said. “The maps were lost, but Drantior was in no doubt that they existed.”

  “Yes, but that was the extent of his knowledge,” Danzor said. “Only the Secret Council – twelve of us, no more than that – knew the full story, knew how to get into them. But we never knew the purpose of them – beyond the vapour pipes and the maintenance aspect. We guessed that Those who Serve the Gods used them to get about in secret – around the Ring, and to and from the tower. But we never knew the tunnels ran all the way to the border, and beyond. And we never for one moment suspected that Mia would be at any risk for asking about them. Drantior told us of your suspicions, of course – about the funeral towers, and that perhaps not everyone died in the flames. But we had no idea…” He frowned, lost in thought for a moment.

  “None of us knew the full extent of what was going on,” Tanist said. “So you are part of this Secret Council? So secret that even your own son knows nothing of your involvement?” He cast an amused glance at Gantor, who was still glowering at being kept in the dark.

  “We could not… It was imperative no one knew,” Danzor said. “And you chose not to be a scholar, Gantor. If you had stayed here – well, then, perhaps… But a Skirmisher, and Karningholder Companion—! I could tell you no more than everyone knew, that there was an organisation preparing for the day when the Karningholders should rise up against the Slaves.”

  “How did you know that day would come?”

  “We didn’t, of course, not for sure. We could do nothing ourselves, and we never even tried to stir up rebellion. We simply waited, and hoped, and planned, preparing for the day when those with the real power – those with swords and bows in their hands – would take control. And here you are!” He spread his hands wide, and smiled widely at them.

 

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