‘And you have no qualms working for such scoundrels?’ Eric asked darkly.
The man smiled. ‘Half the world works for the Circle, my good friend, directly or indirectly. I admit I do so knowingly, but they seem no different to anyone else: the Order, the Gartens, the Turians. I’ve worked for everyone at one time or another, but I never volunteer for the work that many of the city folk seem to enjoy: the murders and so forth. I have no time for such tasteless behaviour.’
‘It’s true,’ Balten said guiltily. ‘Daneel is one of those irritating sorts who does everything exceedingly well, but he has a set of morals that leaves me shaking my head. Although, no matter how much I try, he somehow always manages to get the better of me. And watch your pockets. He may be no cutthroat, but he’s an irrefutable pickpocket. I keep everything tucked away tight just in case,’ and, with that, he patted his buttoned waist pocket to illustrate. ‘They have a loose definition of ownership in these parts.’
‘So, please, let me introduce myself a little more politely and perhaps you can forgive me for our previous disagreement. I am Daneel of Highmeadow. Welcome to my home. Let’s put the past behind us. We will need to trust each other and cooperate if we are to survive the coming journey. If you truly do not wish for my services, I will be happy to withdraw, but you should also know that no one else can get you across the mountains at this time of year.’
Samuel and Eric had little choice and agreed with a sigh.
As they readied to leave, Ambassador Canyon gathered them together, away from Lady Wind and their god. ‘We have lost all our traditional costumes that protect our god from the world around her, and the world from her. Such a thing has never happened before. Please try not to stare at her or make her feel uncomfortable. Remember that while she looks like a young woman, she is still a vessel for a god, and must be treated as such. I hope you can appreciate this.’
They all nodded, with Daneel grinning all the while and looking towards the young lady with obvious glee.
‘I shall bid you all goodbye,’ Captain Orrell announced. ‘Daneel knows the way well, so keep close to his side. Good luck with your task. The Empire is depending on you.’
And, with that, the captain turned and marched away with his men, leaving them to climb upon their mounts and depart.
Four of the local men led the way on horseback and they called to each other in a local dialect that only Daneel seemed to know. The men whooped and laughed and whistled as they rode, often turning to ogle the young god-woman openly.
She rode clutching the back of Lady Wind precariously, for it seemed she had no idea of how to ride. When they had first been called to mount up, she had spent several minutes attempting to clamber atop her alarmed animal, ending up draped over its back with all the men laughing hysterically and with Lady Wind in a furious temper. Finally, Daneel had put an end to the show and helped her mount up behind Lady Wind, whom she had clutched onto tightly with white knuckles. Daneel’s hands had fumbled all over her as he pushed her up and, while he had apologised dramatically, he had been laughing all the while, leaving the naive god-woman confused while her attendant roared in anger once again.
‘Listen, Samuel,’ Balten said as they jostled along. ‘I am sorry that you lost so many of your friends in the citadel.’
Samuel frowned at the tall man sidelong. ‘Are you really?’ he asked sarcastically.
‘Of course. I know myself well, and I realise that I am not a pleasant individual by most measures, but I have no interest in the suffering of others. Eric Goodfellow was a noble young man, true of heart and gentle in nature. If I could have saved him or your Grand Master Tudor, I would have. The battle with Om-rah left me weakened. I did not anticipate that he would be present there. He rarely leaves his desert, and his queen will be furious with him when she hears of his failure. Perhaps she may even do our work for us and kill him. But that is too much to hope for. He is too valuable, even to her.’
‘What kind of man is he?’
‘Barely a man at all. But I will not talk of him now. I don’t want to get my hackles up on such a fine day. Suffice to know, we have no liking for each other, to put it mildly.’
‘Then tell me—why are you really coming with us? Weren’t you supposed to help us in Ghant? That task is finished.’
‘With your Grand Master gone I am needed now more than before. Your Seer is not in a state to do much and there is little point in protecting you in Ghant and then leaving you to die in the snow. I will see you through the mountains and to your destination. Then my task will be complete.’
‘How can you work for them, Balten? I just don’t understand it. Even after that little monster Doonan tried to kill me, you remain loyal to the Circle.’
‘I do what I must.’
‘Is that it? You follow orders, no matter what they may be?’
‘I have faith in what I do. We all need something to believe in, Samuel. Don’t you think so?’
‘But I think for myself. If I thought the Order was not worth it, I wouldn’t follow it blindly.’
To that, Balten only smiled knowingly.
‘What is it?’ Samuel continued. ‘You don’t believe me?’
‘I think you’ve seen many examples of the Order straying from the virtuous path of right and of the morals that they insistently spout, Samuel. You just don’t want to admit it. At least I am true to myself.’
‘Damn you, Balten,’ Samuel said, but the neat magician only laughed, mocking him.
‘I look forward to the day when you throw down those archaic robes, Samuel. They are a symbol of a decrepit system, the last vestiges of a failed vision. I hope I am there to see it and I hope you remember to tell me that I was right.’
‘I wouldn’t hold my breath.’
Balten only laughed. ‘And you say I am cold-hearted!’
‘Come. Tell me one honest thing if you can. Why do you serve this master of yours, the one called Cang?’
‘I’ve already told you, Samuel. If we don’t take steps to save the land, who will?’
‘Then what of Canyon and the Koian god? I know they were brought here on some whim of the Circle. Why are they needed?’
‘I’m sorry, Samuel. While Canyon seems the sort that could easily be drawn by the lures of the Circle, I have no idea what he is up to. Again, if it does not involve me, Cang will not tell me anything. There are others above me who know much more than I do. That is the way it is and, most of the time, it is the best way.’
Samuel could only shake his head and wonder at the mentality of the man beside him.
A few hours later, they had traversed higher into the mountains and were following a shallow, pebbled stream along a gentle rise. Here the gentle hills ended and the cliffs and crags began in earnest. Their path ended at a mossy rock face, from which the stream gently spilled as a tumbling, white spray.
‘We walk from here,’ Daneel announced and dropped lightly from his groaning saddle.
‘What about the supplies?’ Sir Ferse asked, looking to the ponies.
‘We leave them. The guides will take them—as gifts.’
‘But they didn’t do anything!’ Sir Ferse protested.
‘They accompanied us and they will continue in another direction toward their homes,’ Daneel replied. ‘It’s safest not to tell even the good Captain Orrell the way we are going and secrecy is expensive in these dangerous days.’ He looked at Samuel with a wink. ‘That’s how I’ve survived for so long.’
‘This is a sham! What will we eat?’ Ambassador Canyon said, annoyed. ‘You’re giving away our supplies. This is madness!’
‘Don’t you worry, my good people. Take these,’ he said, and pulled some packs from a hiding place behind a pile of rounded boulders. ‘We can take our clothes, water and as much food as we can carry. Don’t worry. I will see you through.’
The party gave in, for they had little choice but to obey him, and they each begrudgingly took a coarse pack and filled it from the backs of the pa
ck animals. Afterward, their four guides turned and left, with cries of delight at their new ponies, loaded with gifts.
Everyone stood by the waterfall with nothing but their clothes and what they could carry, which varied as per the individual. The god-woman was given nothing to carry, while Ambassador Canyon and Lady Wind had minimum loads on their backs. In contrast, the fighter Horse was loaded with such a mountain of items that he looked set to topple over. The magicians had what Samuel deemed sensibly-sized loads, but Sir Ferse seemed to be in hopeless competition with Horse and was already struggling under the weight.
‘This way,’ Daneel directed, looking at them all with amusement before beginning up the steep embankment beside the cliff face. ‘Try not to fall.’
They continued like that, ever upwards and along steep inclines, sometimes scrambling on their hands and knees, sometimes pulling each other up and over rocks and jagged edges. Sir Ferse had abandoned almost half of his pack along the way, periodically stopping with exhaustion and summarily sacrificing one item after another, until his pack looked similar to those of the magicians. Horse, however, continued on as if he were made of stone, never complaining or uttering a word and he picked up each item thrown from Sir Ferse’s load and added it quietly to his own.
There were still many trees here, overhanging their mountain path, and they were ever beside a gully or a ravine of one description or another. Not far above them, the mountain face was sheer stone. Above even that, blue ice and snow hung over them, waiting ominously.
The air was bitterly cold and the wind was blowing down hard from the icy mountaintops when Daneel finally announced that they would rest, and they made for a tiny hut amongst the trees, just as the light was fading.
Smoke rose from the chimney and seemed to fall straight off the shingles and slide onto the ground, for the air had become so cold and heavy. A light shone in the window and Daneel instructed them all to leave their packs beside the door while they went in.
A lone old man, few of teeth and thin of hair, inhabited the hut and he stood from his place and welcomed them in his chanting dialect. He seemed to know Daneel and be expecting them, for he had a great pot boiling on his stove and hurried to ready a number of chipped, ceramic bowls.
‘Come, sit,’ Daneel implored them, while he stepped outside to take care of their things.
The stew seemed to fill them with strength and, before long, they were all sitting comfortably, although in close proximity, on thick rugs and cushions upon the floor.
‘Just sleep where you can,’ Daneel instructed later. ‘We will leave at first light.’
As he went to go outside again, Lady Wind bustled up to him in the doorway and Samuel had to translate what she was trying to say to him and why she was in a fluster. ‘We cannot sleep here—amongst these men,’ she said. ‘I am a woman. She is a god.’ And she gestured to the god-woman, who was looking back at her, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her skirts feathered across her lap.
‘Fine,’ Daneel told her. ‘You can sleep outside.’ And, with that, he nodded to her politely and stepped outside to see to his tasks.
Balten also took the chance to slip out the door, but everyone else remained firmly within the warm interior of the hut.
Samuel chuckled to himself and gathered a few cushions to make his makeshift bed as comfortable as possible. They made concession to the women by ensuring that the men were all cramped tightly together, leaving a small channel of space between them, but everyone was touching and jostling each other throughout the night as they attempted to sleep. There was little talking, for everyone was exhausted. Only Sir Ferse and Master Celios whispered together long into the night.
Before he fell asleep, when the fire had burned low and was barely glowing coals, Samuel heard the door creak open and Daneel sneaked back in with Balten beside him, both reeking of Fiskian tobacco. They found spots for themselves beside the door and soon settled down to sleep. The old mountain-man had fallen asleep long ago and was whistling through his nose as he snored, as well as smacking his lips and murmuring. Strangely, it reminded Samuel fondly of his youth and he had barely rolled over once before he was fast asleep.
The next thing he knew, it was morning. Breakfast was, unfortunately, the same boiled stew, but at least the old man did have some fruit to give them. Before long, they were struggling back into their boots outside in the freezing morning air, pulling their packs onto their aching backs.
The world outside the little hut was grey with mist and the moss-covered trees, sheathed in vibrant green, vanished barely five strides from the path. To their left, they could see into the gully and the low clouds meandered along, pouring off the cliff tops in a tumbling mist. The peaks above were like meandering gods, wandering through a sea of fog and the party trudged along beneath them, with Daneel whistling a merry tune as he went, following the narrow trail up and ever up.
‘It’s time you were honest with me, Samuel,’ Eric said abruptly, as they walked along the rising path, puffing out steam.
Samuel was immediately on guard. ‘What about?’
‘What’s happened to your magic?’ Samuel continued walking, but did not answer. ‘Goodfellow was protecting you all along, making excuses for you right up until he died. There are only the two of us left now, Samuel. Won’t you tell me what is going on?’
‘It’s true,’ Samuel replied, after treading along in dreadful silence. ‘I have lost my power. There is a ring in my pocket. It has some magic, but it’s difficult to control.’
‘How long has it been like this?’ Eric asked.
‘Since Ash. I exerted myself too much and lost my magic then.’
‘Didn’t you think of telling us? You’ve kept this a secret all this time? Who else knows?’
‘No one.’
‘How could you be so stupid!’ Eric said, raising his voice. ‘You’ve been hiding this all along and didn’t think to ask for help? Of all the stupid things, this is the greatest!’ Samuel did not know what to say, and Eric was only becoming more furious. ‘I never would have agreed to such a hare-brained idea if I’d known about this. Didn’t you stop to think that it could be dangerous—that your full power would have been needed? If only we’d prepared better, we could have saved him!’
‘We couldn’t!’ Samuel said defiantly, keeping his voice restrained. ‘No matter what we could have done, we made a mistake. Eric did, too! Once we started that spell, it was too late and nothing any of us did would have made any difference. He was bound to the spell and we couldn’t get him away from it. We all made mistakes. You know that.’
Eric only shook his head angrily. ‘You were always the strongest, Samuel, but look at what’s happened to you. You haven’t learnt anything in all these years. If you hadn’t lost your magic you would be as strong as the Lions by now. You could have taken down the fortress alone.’
‘We’ll never know and there’s no point in guessing. I’m as upset at losing Eric as you and I’m certainly not happy being dependent on this ring. He was a friend to both of us, but there’s nothing I can do.’
‘I’m just tired of your secrets, Samuel,’ Eric said with disdain. ‘I may have kept my Great Spell from the Order, but I’ve never kept anything from you.’
With that, he doubled his pace and strode away, leaving Samuel frustrated and furious in his wake.
They continued, dipping up and down the valleys, diving into the moist forest and back up into the chill air many a time. The next night was spent in a vacant lodge, with Daneel and Balten again slipping out into the night air together as the others huddled for warmth, before returning late and shuffling into their blankets to sleep. They breakfasted over the stove the next morning before heading out again early. Soon they had left the mossy trees behind and found themselves on barren hills, covered only with rocks and the occasional puffs of spiny, yellow grass.
‘It’s quite invigorating, isn’t it?’ Sir Ferse said, striding along the icy mountain path.
�
��What is?’ Samuel returned without enthusiasm.
‘Here—the ice, the snow, the mountains.’
‘We would probably die here in a moment if Daneel left us,’ Samuel stated.
‘I suppose we would, but I don’t think we will. That’s the benefit of having magicians, isn’t it? You can support us with your arcane powers in times of need. Still, one or two of them may not make it, even with your spells,’ and he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb towards the Koians struggling along behind. The attendant, Lady Wind, seemed to be lagging farther and farther behind.
‘And that wouldn’t bother you?’ Samuel asked.
‘Not greatly, no. We can continue without her. In fact, we would probably be better off.’
‘And I thought you were different to the average Turian, but I see I am mistaken. Empire over all, yes?’
‘That is what they say, isn’t it? Well, I guess I should learn to be more empathetic. I’ve been trying. Change can be difficult.’
‘How terrible that you should have to grow some compassion, Sir Ferse. What a terrible burden.’
The man seemed unworried by Samuel’s sarcasm and continued marching merrily. ‘Don’t be the first to start throwing stones, Samuel. I could remind you that you are not quite the golden saviour that some make you out to be. As I recall, you did actually kill the Emperor of Turia, who was by most accounts the greatest man in the world. That sort of thing can put a stain on your reputation in certain circles.’
Samuel gave the man a sidelong glance. ‘I thought you weren’t going to mention that?’
‘Actually, I said I would not tell anyone. I can mention it to you as much as I please.’
‘Well, I wish you wouldn’t. People do have ears.’
Sir Ferse laughed aloud and Samuel wondered if Master Celios’ madness was catching, for the man seemed to find amusement in the strangest of things. He swore under his breath, for this journey seemed cursed to become worse with each step.
She Who Has No Name (The Legacy Trilogy) Page 24