'You heard her,' he said. 'Don't you dare slip away from me yet, old friend.'
Chapter 64
848th cycle of God, 41st day of Solasfall 15th year of the true Ascendancy
The Ascendants were sleeping. It was the deep, still sleep of the exhausted body. Jhered had seen it countless times before. Already, there were signs that they were regenerating. Arducius looked much more himself facially though his hands were still dry and wrinkled. He was the best of them. Ossacer was unchanged from the time he had closed his eyes. His had been a disturbed rest.
Jhered had propped himself up by a tree to watch over them the whole night. Kovan had tried to do the same but the day had proved too much and he was sprawled asleep across his scabbard. The fire was still going, welcome warmth on what had become a clear and cold night. Dusas was in what. . . five days. It felt like it had arrived early.
He reached out a hand and stroked Ossacer's hair. 'Getting soft in your old age?' 'Appros Menas, you are supposed to be on lookout.' 'And I am, my Lord Exchequer. And I see my commander's mask begin to slip.'
Menas walked into the firelight and warmed her hands. Her breastplate shone, her fur cloak hung straight at her back. Jhered chuckled.
'They really did it today,' he said. 'And I am proud of them. I won't see harm come to them.'
'And not just because they are a valuable weapon?'
'What do you want me to say? That I care about them? Then yes, I care about them. They've made it bloody difficult but they're all right. Under all the moaning.'
Menas laughed. 'Such graceful acquiescence.'
'Menas . . . Erith.' He cleared his throat. 'Thank you.' 'For what?'
'For everything you sacrificed to come with me. And for being a friend to Mirron. I'm not sure she'd have made it without you.'
Menas was blushing beneath her plumed helmet. 'You are the Exchequer. And I am a Gatherer. I'd go anywhere you ordered, my Lord Jhered.'
'Paul. Out here, I think Paul is fine,' he said gruffly.
'Are you sure? What about them?' She indicated the sleeping Ascendants. 'We agreed to keep a discipline.'
‘I know,' said Jhered. 'And it was the right thing to do. But we've moved to a different plane now. They've done something that will live with them forever. They will feel guilt and regret. They need more than a barking sergeant. They can call me Paul, too.'
'Are you sure you're cut out for the fatherly role?' asked Menas, another smile brightening her face.
'I'm absolutely certain I'm not,' said Jhered. 'So you'll have to help me. Perhaps I'll start at distant Uncle and work my way up. Anyway, what was it you came to report?'
'That horse you can no doubt hear. There's no risk.'
'Sure?'
'Sure.'
They waited. The lone rider cantered into the camp and dismounted in a rush. The helmet was dragged off and the rider thumped her hand into her chest.
'Master Kastenas,' said Jhered, standing up. 'You're bringing your general's sincerest apologies for abandoning us out here, I trust.'
Kastenas's eyes filled with tears that spilled down her face before she could stop them.
'Please,' she said. 'You must help. It's Roberto. He's been stabbed. He's dying.'
Jhered made up his mind in a heartbeat. He roused the camp and looked into every tired eye and irritable face, settling on the only one who could help.
'Ossacer, come on lad. This is what you were born to do so you keep on telling me.'
'You lied to us,' he said, his nightmares still fresh. 'You made us kill.'
'And I take all the responsibility and all the guilt on my shoulders.
But now here's the chance to do what you love. Save my friend. Save the Advocate's son.'
'I'm so tired,' he said. 'I can't do it. Not yet. Not for another day.'
'He won't last another day,' said Kastenas. 'You have to help him.'
Ossacer shook his head but Arducius gripped his arm.
'You can, Ossie. I'll come too. You can use me to make the circuit and channel the energies. All you have to do is direct them. I'll be the feed for you.'
Ossacer put his hands on Arducius's chest. He frowned and bit at his bottom lip.
'You have so little in you,' he said. 'I can't take more. I could really hurt you.'
Jhered made to speak. Arducius got there first. 'We must take the risk. I'm the only one you can use. Please, Ossie. You're the best Pain Teller there ever was. Show them what else we can do.'
Ossacer nodded and dragged himself wearily to his feet. Jhered smiled.
'Thank you, Ossacer,' he said. 'I won't forget this. Nor will the Conquord.'
'All right, all right,' said Ossacer. 'I'm going, aren't I?'
'Right. Good. Ossacer, you'll ride behind me. Arducius, behind Kovan. Menas, keep the camp secure. If you need to move, head south-west. I'll find you.'
'Yes, sir.'
'What about me?' said Gorian. 'We should all come.'
'Gorian, count the spare horses. Shouldn't take you long. I don't have time to argue.'
'You need the rest,' said Mirron. 'We both do.'
'We all do,' said Gorian. 'What about Ossacer?'
'Please,' said Jhered sharply, desperately. 'Not now. A man is dying.'
Silence about the camp. The Ascendants were staring at him. Gorian nodded and sat back down, dragging Mirron with him. 'Save him, Ossacer,' he said. 'Don't risk yourself, either of you.' Jhered raised his eyebrows. 'Thank you.'
Menas rode next to him on the way out of the camp before they opened up to the gallop.
'Well done, Uncle Paul,' she said.
Mirron woke early. The sun was rising above the mountains of Kark, sending a beautiful golden light across Atreska. It lit the camp through the scattering of trees and played shadows across Gorian's sleeping form. He was looking much better. Most of the lines were gone from his face. The last wrinkles around his eyes still clung on but that didn't stop her stomach turning over at his beauty.
He looked so peaceful lying there by the smouldering embers of the fire. She let his energy map flood her senses, seeing the calm green and gentle red lines intertwining around his form. A gentle pulsing from the ground around him and a slight shimmering in the air above him indicated his drawing on the elemental energies to replenish his body. She imagined it filling out his smooth muscles and bringing new sheen to his gorgeous hair.
She looked away from him, feeling a warmth through her body that was both delightful and a little scary. Away at the army camp, Ossacer and Arducius might still be working to save the general. A man whom the Exchequer was desperate to save despite his obvious hatred of them. She didn't really understand it. She didn't think that saving him would make any difference. After all, that rigger had despised them even more when his sight was returned.
Menas would know what it was all about. The two men had been friends and perhaps it was as simple as that. She would be about somewhere, probably close, watching over them or looking out for danger. Mirron got up and wandered a few yards, trying to see her. It had been dark when they arrived at the camp site and in the light of day, she could see it was a lovely spot.
They'd slept on a patch of flat ground in a glade of trees. Above her, a tumble of rocks was covered in moss and heather and somewhere to the right, she could hear running water. She walked that way, feeling thirsty and dusty.
Life surrounded her. She left her senses open and felt the presence of birds in the air following her. Looking up she could see them land in the trees, fluttering their wings and twittering their songs. She smiled. They were singing to her. She hugged herself as she walked, feeling the strong resonance of the trees like great arms around her. Ahead, the brook gargled over rocks. She could see the ripples in the air above the water, scattering energies that settled or were blown away by the breeze. Ossacer said they could harvest those tiny motes. She wasn't so sure.
Reaching the little stream which was no more than three feet wide, she followed its course. It
descended, out of the trees, away over the edge of the plateau and into the plain where . . . Her world darkened with the memories of yesterday. The screams still echoed in her mind. The thundering of rock and water, battering men and horses to mangled death. She had done it.
The beauty of the stream, the grass and the flowers still blooming at its edge was tainted. She imagined the water running red. She knelt at its edge and saw her wavering reflection in it, bordered by trees and cloudy blue sky. She looked a bit of a mess. Her long, dark hair was tangled and sat in clumps on top of her head. Her face was covered in dust.
The water was cold. She could see that in the deep slow colours of its energy lines. She took a breath and plunged her face into the gentle flow, feeling the thrill of the cold flood her body. She dipped her hands in and scooped water over her head and down her back, then lifted her head out and flicked it back, feeling it slap on to her tunic dress.
She sat down by the stream and her heart lurched.
'You scared me,' she said.
'Sorry,' said Gorian. ‘I didn't mean to.'
He came over and sat by her, trailing his hand in the water, flinching at the cold.
'It's lovely,' she said. 'You should do what I did.'
Gorian reached up and smoothed her hair all the way over her head and down her back. She tensed and arched at his touch, breathing deeply. He moved his hand to her cheek, brushing away a trickle of water. She smiled.
'Menas sent me to find you,' he said.
'Oh,' she said, feeling a little disappointed. 'Well, now you have.' 'Yes, I have,' he said.
His body was warm next to her and she nestled in a little, cold where the water had soaked her dress. His arm was around her shoulders and she laid her head on his chest.
'Doesn't it make you sad, the people we killed?' she asked. ‘I can't get them out of my head.'
'We only meant to stop them attacking our citizens,' said Gorian.
'I know it went further than we thought it would but it isn't our fault what happened.'
'How can you say that? We made the roots weaken the stone. We made the lake burst. It makes me feel so sick remembering what they sounded like.'
'They were invaders,' said Gorian. 'They shouldn't have been there. They forced our action and felt the consequences.'
'But they had no chance to retreat. They had no warning.'
Gorian leaned around with a gentle hand on her cheek and moved her face towards him. 'They are the enemy. They would kill Hesther and Andreas and Jen and everyone in Westfallen if they could. They would kill Ossacer, Ardu, me and you. Don't grieve for them. They had it coming.'
She dropped her gaze but he lifted her chin and they were kissing. The heat spread from low in her stomach and suffused her entire body. She felt the smoothness of his lips and his tongue darting into her mouth. She responded, putting a hand behind his head and drawing him closer, pressing their mouths together. Her heart pounded in her chest. His fingers running up and down her back sent shivers through her, tingling and wonderful. .
He pushed against her and she let herself lie back against the soft grass. His face was close to hers, his eyes closed and his caress on her mouth so gentle she never wanted it to stop. She touched her tongue to his and they fell deeper together. He shifted so that his legs were astride her and his hand moved from under her to run up and down her side, snagging on her dress, dragging it up a little with every stroke.
She rubbed his arm, feeling his muscles bunched, and moved up to his shoulder, so broad and powerful. She felt his breath over her face. He drew away and their eyes met. His smile was so full and warm she almost burst into tears.
'I've dreamed of this for so long,' he whispered, smoothing her hair from her face and kissing her forehead.
'No you haven't,' she said, giggling.
'Oh, yes I have,' he said. 'You are so beautiful and this is so right. It was meant to be this way.'
His hand moved across her belly and up to her breast.
'Stop it,' she said, jerking back a little but getting nowhere under his weight.
He moved his hand away and leaned in to kiss her again. She met his mouth and their tongues twined. The energy flooded over them, joining them and she relaxed. His hand was on her breast again, feeling, kneading her dress. The sensation was wonderful, terrible. She shifted, turned her head away.
'Gorian, no.'
"Why not?'
'Because I don't want you to.' 'Yes you do,' he said.
He let all his weight press against her and she felt hardness at his waist. She gasped. His hand moved down her side and rubbed hard at her thigh, moving her dress up and up.
'Gorian, stop.'
He raised his head and she flinched at the anger she saw there. Her stomach flipped with a sudden fear. He knelt up and she sagged in relief.
'I don't want all this,' she said. 'It's too much. I'm not ready.'
She reached up a hand to stroke his face but he grabbed her wrist and forced her arm back behind her head. He took her other hand and did likewise.
'No,' he said, his face ablaze with energy, almost blinding her as her senses were overwhelmed. 'But I am. Don't you feel it, Mirron?'
'Gorian, what are you talking about? Calm down. Let me go.'
'It's all around us. Everyone and everything feels us. And yesterday everything we have learned came true. We cannot wait to build the next generation. I could be dead tomorrow. Now is the right time.'
Mirron kicked out at him but he laid his body on her and her struggles were futile.
'Let me go,' she said, raising her voice. 'Have you gone mad? Please. Don't.'
His eyes narrowed. She felt a tickling over her wrists. He put a hand over her mouth.
'Shh,' he said. 'Don't shout out. You know this is right.'
She felt tears running down her face. There were tree roots bursting from the ground, tying her wrists. She tugged and tugged but they were so strong. And she couldn't focus her own mind to break them. Her whole body was shaking and she sobbed deep in her throat.
Gorian's other hand was on the neck of her dress and with one pull he had ripped it open all the way down. The cold of the air rushed across her.
'Please.' She mumbled through his hand, i love you, Gorian, please.'
But she could see in his eyes that he was gone. His free hand was fumbling at his waist. He lay down on her again. She felt him feeling between her legs, forcing them apart with his own. There was a sharp, stabbing pain. She felt wet on her thigh and he was inside her. His hand pressed hard on her mouth, keeping her screams and cries muted. Every thrust jolted through her. She pulled and pulled at the roots but she could not break their hold.
He grunted and heaved on her. His eyes bored into hers. They were devoid of anything she remembered about him and more terrifying than anything she had ever seen. She froze, unable to turn her head away. Pleading silently with him to stop. He shuddered along the length of his body. He tensed, gasping in breath, his face red with his exertion. He dragged himself from her. The pain was horrible. He rolled away and she found her voice.
Her screams put the birds to flight.
'Shut up,' said Gorian. 'Shut up. It's too late now anyway.'
'Get away from me!' she howled, wrenching at the roots, slippery with her blood. The ache between her legs grew and grew and she couldn't make it stop. 'Get these things off me.'
He stood over her, smoothing his tunic down over himself. 'Not until you stop wailing.'
'Gorian! Step aside. Now.'
Menas's voice rang out like blessed mercy and Mirron burst into fresh tears. The Gatherer walked towards them, her gladius in her hand. Gorian turned to her.
'Why?' he said.
'Do it.' Her voice was cool and threatening. 'Don't make me force you.'
'You can't force me to do anything.'
He sauntered towards her. His back was to Mirron but she could feel the waves of energy rolling from him, empowering him. 'Be careful, Erith,' she said. 'Yes, be
careful Erith,' mocked Gorian.
Menas glanced over at Mirron and her face crumpled with sadness. She mouthed comfort to Mirron before turning back to Gorian, her expression bleak with fury. 'You pathetic bully. Want to try me? No?'
Gorian stepped back away from her but she followed him, her sword ahead of her.
'I don't want you,' he sneered. 'You are no Ascendant. Just a soldier. Weak.'
'Don't try me, boy. Get those roots off her wrists right now.'
'Or what?' Gorian laughed in her face. 'What will you do, stab me? Me? I am an Ascendant. You cannot hurt me.'
Menas dropped to her haunches and swept a leg out, taking Gorian's feet from him. He fell flat on his back and she was kneeling on his chest, her sword at his throat before he could move.
'I do not have to cut you to hurt you,' she said.
'Nor I you.' Gorian's hand grabbed her chin and she stiffened. 'You really have no idea, do you?'
Menas gasped and her sword fell from her hand and bounced on the grass. She clutched at his wrist. Mirron felt sickness sweep through her. Their energy maps were one, flowing over and around each other. But Menas's was blazing far too brightly as her life was forced through her while Gorian's pulsed slow and so strong.
'Gorian,' she whispered. 'No.'
It was a curious sensation. Fascinating. Menas weakened so quickly. It was so easy. He drove her energy through her veins and arteries and into every muscle, cell and bone like forcing life into the roots of a blade of grass or a tree. He observed them flare with forced life while he tired with the effort. He wondered why he couldn't use her energy to replenish himself but it didn't work. That circuit wouldn't open.
But he could drive her whole life through her in moments just as he could any plant. Her efforts to break his grip ceased and her hands dropped away. He looked at her face. Her hair was long, thin and white. Her face was lined and brown-spotted, her eyes milked over.
Dimly, he could hear Mirron screeching again but she was easy enough to ignore. Menas's mouth dropped open and she gasped for his mercy. Her teeth were rotten. The flesh fled from her chin, her cheeks sank and her eyes receeded into her head. One last time, a wrinkled, long-nailed hand clawed at his. Her head fell to one side and her lifelines guttered and became dark.
Cry of the Newborn Page 73