Samuel picked up the stone and examined it closely, scraping off the flecks of earth. It seemed to be the same little rock they had begun with, so he had to concede that the Koian warrior was the victor. ‘Very well. You win. But what was it I was supposed to learn?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Horse replied, ‘but it did give me some amusement and it shut you up for a while. That is reason enough.’
Samuel felt somewhat annoyed. ‘How about you have a turn?’
Horse nodded solemnly and took the pebble from Samuel’s upturned palm. ‘A good idea. But I know this game well. To win, you will only have to retrieve it once.’
Samuel had already begun thinking of ways to trick the slippery Koian. ‘I agree. Shall we begin?’
‘Yes,’ Horse said and immediately threw the stone as far as he could to land with a plop in the middle of the stream. ‘Good luck,’ he said to Samuel and began at once away.
Samuel was speechless, while the others were sniggering to themselves as they continued walking past him.
‘Cheer up!’ the Emperor said, and gave him a heavy slap on the back.
The lot of them looked as rough and dishevelled as city beggars. Horse stood straight and strong and still had some semblance of nobility, despite his bearded face, and the Koian woman was too well hidden in her hood and scarves to be seen, but they could all have done with a hot wash and some soap. Even the Emperor had lost much of his regal manner and appeared more of a woodsman that a monarch.
‘When can we expect to find a settlement?’ Balten then asked of their guide.
‘Down beside the lake. We will need to push hard, but we will make it after dark. The locals should be accommodating and I doubt the Paatin would have bothered to find their way here just yet. We are still deep within the mountains, although the way will be simpler from here. As long as we have some coin to spare, we should be able to get a roof over our heads tonight.’
The thought had them all powering on, striding ever downwards. Often they lost sight of the valley amongst the trees, or it dropped behind some rise while they rounded a forested bend, but finally they found themselves on flat ground that Samuel almost thought he would kiss.
The small village of Callerdum sat on the edge of Green Lake (which was actually quite clear, despite its name). There was a small Imperial presence in the town and they were quite nervous of any impending Paatin foray, especially since hearing the news that the towns in the lowlands had been overcome in the weeks before. They probably had little to worry about, for the time being at least, as the Paatin seemed only intent on taking settlements that fell between them and the heart of the Empire.
Still, the people were worried. Even here, they had heard the fate of some towns that had failed to surrender: they had been utterly destroyed. Vast numbers of villages and settlements had surrendered upon sight of any Paatin coming their way. Rumour had it that one small village had even surrendered themselves to what they thought was a Paatin emissary, but who turned out to be only a travelling vagrant, filthy from his days on the road.
Once a settlement came under Paatin control, the desert people only had to leave a small group behind to oversee the local folk and, even then, they interfered little. As long as the inhabitants remained calm, there was nothing to fear and they knew the Paatin army would not be called in to deal with them. Any Turian soldiers were allowed to remain to protect the townsfolk from brigands and so forth, on the condition that they lowered their Imperial colours. Being Turian, many had the notion to refuse, but here, so far from inner Turia and hope of reinforcement, those with the tiniest amount of sense knew they had little choice but to submit.
There was no pillaging or mistreatment of the common folk, and it did not seem at all like any kind of warfare that the people expected. The only other command from their Paatin occupiers was that sufficient food and resources be diverted into the supply trains that maintained their passing armies. Again, they did not take anything by force, but they simply described what would happen if they suspected their commands were not being met. It seemed to be a successful tactic, for entire cities had fallen in this way, with barely a score of Paatin left behind to run the places.
Again, it was only rumour, but it was said that the Paatin were utterly intolerant to bribery. Several local lords near Kalid had attempted to bribe the Paatin into granting them favours in return for engineering a quick surrender of the towns, and these men had quickly found their heads on the tops of poles. It signalled that the Paatin were a people of honour and perhaps not quite so savage as they seemed; or perhaps it was merely a sign that they were intent on reaching Cintar as quickly as possible, and had little time for other distractions.
The party took time to bathe and scrape the dirt from their bodies, eating their fill in the house of the local leader. They stayed a second night, under command of Daneel, for he was adamant their bodies would need further rest if they were to press on. No one was sure if he was sincere about this, or if it was only the rather high number of pretty girls that caused him to stay longer. Either way, they were tired and the rest did feel well needed.
Samuel found Horse on the second storey balcony of their lodging, which overlooked the lake. The sun was about to dip into the mountains they had just crossed and the daylight warmth was plummeting by the moment.
‘It’s a beautiful place,’ Samuel said, observing the tiny fishing boats dotted across the lake.
‘It reminds me of my home,’ Horse said serenely.
‘What kind of place is it?’
‘A small village—simple and carefree.’
‘Do you have a wife or family?’
‘Warriors have no interest in such things. It would be pointless. We cannot have children.’
‘Ah,’ Samuel said. ‘It is similar with magicians. Even though your fighting style imbues only small amounts of magic, it must be enough to bring about the change.’
‘We thought it was from the rigour of training. As you know, we have no knowledge of magic. If what you say is true, it has come about not from our own intention.’
‘Does everyone in your village train to be a warrior?’
‘Of course not. Then there would be none to bear children. Only the first-born of each family is offered to the weapon-masters. We know our family, but we are raised from childhood in the Temple of Discipline. Genders are separated in the middle years, to avoid distraction.’
‘You teach your women to fight?’ Samuel asked with some surprise, and with more than a little interest.
‘Yes. We do not keep them banished into the homes and relegated to nursing children as you seem to here. They are a crucial part of our armies in Koia.’
‘But surely they cannot learn to fight the same as you. That would not be possible.’
‘As you say. You treat women strangely but in Koia, men and women are equal in every way. Do not underestimate any Koian woman, fighter or otherwise.’
‘Strange,’ Samuel said, musing over the matter. ‘Do you miss not having a normal life?’
‘This is my lot and I carry it with honour. It is a normal life to me. It does not seem too different from you being in your Order. Many times in history, we have saved our nation from marauders and the heroes of my bloodline are legend. I am sure that, even if Koia has fallen, my home still remains, high in the mountains and far from the worries of the lowlands. The spirit of my people is indomitable.’
‘Do you miss it?’
‘Of course, but I also understand that I will never return.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
Horse regarded him with all seriousness. ‘It is pointless to think of returning. Our fate has drawn us to this distant land and it is here we shall remain. You have no ships capable of surviving the return journey to Koia and I feel that, even if you did, our path would follow a different route. Still, my home is what fills my dreams every night. It disturbs me to think that my body will fall here, far from my home, but that is also my lot. My fate is
to protect She Who Has No Name. Now, I am the last of many, so the responsibility falls entirely on me. I cannot falter in this task.’
‘If you want to keep her alive for as long as possible, why don’t you just take her and hide somewhere. Why follow us when we are going to one of the most dangerous places in Amandia?’
‘Canyon is in charge. I have faith in his judgement. It is not only to protect her, but to allow her to be reborn at the correct time, in the correct conditions.’
‘And Canyon will decide that?’
‘He will.’
‘How can you invest so much faith in the man? Doesn’t it enter your mind that he could be misleading you?’
‘I am what I am. If I started to doubt his word, everything on which my life is built would tumble. It is unthinkable.’
‘Come then. You don’t need to be alone in protecting your god. We will help you. But I am still fascinated with your fighting skills. I have been thinking long about how I can follow in your footsteps, but I still don’t know where to begin. If you can show me even some of the simplest skills, it may be of value, should we need to defend ourselves.’
‘As I said, you already know enough to defeat the average foe. It seems pointless to start tutoring you from the beginning, and it would take more time than we have to even begin. Your nature is not to be a fighter. You are a magician and, if that is your way, you will only dilute yourself by trying to change.’
‘Magic is not as dependable as you think. There are many times when a magician must rely on his wits or simply run away, for lack of any other ability to defend himself. Come. Show me. Would this be effective?’ Samuel said, and demonstrated by stepping into Harvest Stance and thrusting his fist forwards. He felt foolish, but it was obvious he was not getting anywhere with talk alone.
Horse nodded his head. ‘Effective at breaking your own hand, yes. The principle is there, but if you strike like that, you will only hurt yourself. You must be firm to deliver the blow. Suppleness is for before the strike—to generate speed and to avoid being hit yourself. Often, the one who strikes first is the one who strikes last. Here, tighten your fist or the force will escape there and you will break it.’ He took the magician’s hand and pressed it into the correct shape. ‘Once you get stronger, you can reduce the point of contact to a single knuckle or fingertip—but do not try that yet. The result, if done properly, can be devastating to any foe, penetrating armour, breaking bones and internal organs. I have even seen some of the greater fighters miss their target and still cause fatalities, such was their talent.’
Samuel nodded. ‘You see? There is much you can teach me. Do you ever fight with swords? It seems a strange choice to fight against an armed opponent with only your hands.’
‘I can fight with weapons, but I find the human body to be the most versatile of weapons. A man who can only fight with a sword or spear is useless if disarmed. There is a time and a place for such things. I find too much value is placed on such weapons, even in my own country, when more merit should be bestowed upon the empty hand, which can ultimately prove the stronger. The greatest fighter uses all his skills, not just the ability to punch or jab a stick. Misdirection, confusion, sleight-of-hand—all have roles to play in every battle, not just in our words and actions, but in our movements and where we are looking. The angle of our toes and the shifting of our weight give opponents assumptions, that they do not even realise they are making, about our intentions. The true fighter uses these against the opponents, clouding their ability to think and react, filling their mind with conflicting information and subterfuge. Every attack must be a defence, each defence an attack. You step away to lead an opponent towards you, but escape is not the intention; it is to have them stepping forward where you can trap them. Human nature is one of the best weapons we have. Learn to know and judge others, better than they know themselves, and they can be defeated in an instant, before they have even raised their sword. What follows from that point is merely acting out the motions. Finally, a sword in your hand shouts out your intentions, while an empty hand can be mask any manner of deceit. I could go on all day.’
‘So was all this what you were trying to teach me with the pebble?’
‘Something like that,’ Horse admitted.
Samuel mulled over the thought. ‘Then what would you do if you came against a fighter equal to your own ability, but who also had a weapon?’
‘If all the circumstances leading up to that point were equal, and the sword was of sufficient quality, I would probably die.’
‘Would you give up so easily?’
‘I did not say I would give up, or even that I would lose, Magician. There are many ways to die and still achieve victory.’
Samuel again took time to digest the words. ‘There is much more to fighting than I had assumed.’
There was a creak from the stairs and Horse’s eyes flickered towards them for the briefest moment.
‘There is. Now, I must go,’ he said and started away.
Samuel looked, but could see no one there. He sensed, however, the fading energies of Canyon as the man tiptoed down the stairs. It was perhaps wise that no one had informed the Koians that the magicians could feel their presence. It would be prudent, Samuel reminded himself, that they should keep as many of their secrets as they could away from the man. As Horse had suggested, secrets could be powerful weapons.
When morning came, Daneel announced that he would not be continuing on the journey with them.
‘Your path leads into the deserts and the sand,’ he said. ‘I don’t think I would enjoy such waterless places.’
‘But we are going to save the Empress,’ Eric said. ‘Won’t you help us with that?’
Daneel laughed. ‘I’m not fond of the Empire. I’m sure the Empress is a lovely sort, but I have other plans afoot. I have things to do here and I will eventually need to make my way back home. I am sure you will still be absorbed in your adventure by then, but I will not be with you. The rest of the way is simple, and you have a week or more before this valley becomes cut off by the snow. The lowlands will be simple to find, if you simply follow the path for another few days. From there, it will not be hard to make your way to Kalid.’
And he wished them good luck and sent them on their way. Balten knew some of the territory on this side of the mountains and, once they found their way to the town of Kalid, he would be able to gain his bearings. The eight of them began on their way upon a string of sturdy ponies, with the Koian god-woman clutching desperately behind Ambassador Canyon. The mountains had not defeated them and their future challenges lay ahead.
INTERLUDE
An excerpt from the Book of Morgan (3:11:17)
Oh, the misery. Here I am, raised to godhood and possessing power I once could never have fathomed; able to reach across time and space with my will, yet chained and burdened more than ever—more than even most mortals. While once I could run across fields and feel the cool breeze on my brow, I am now a common conscript in an unending war and an abominable father who consumes his own young.
My own mortal father, who died so long ago that the measure of years has little meaning, once told me that the end justifies the means. I have seen such terrible means that set me to weep, and the promised end is always one step ahead of me, so I find that axiom has long since worn thin. The unbearable alternative, however, is defeat. If I were to give up, or lay down my burden for just a heartbeat, my world would be set upon and devoured by beings much more callous and desperate than I, so I must continue my unholy duty and ready myself to go to war again.
I have long grown tired of this struggle and, as I return weary from the eternal battlefield, my thoughts once again return to simpler days, when I was young, foolish and unfettered. I made many, many mistakes in my mortal life and my only solace now is that I do not have the freedom of choice to make any more. Forever I must toil at my task, never averting my eyes from the horizon and never forsaking my people. Through my diligence, mankind itself will
survive, but their sacrifice will be untold.
I weep each time my feet touch upon the soil of my world and I feel the beautiful earth beneath my toes. It should be a time of joy, but I cannot put the unbearable cost of my task from my mind and so I set to work like a man possessed. Each scream and plea for mercy is torture to my soul, but I cannot allow myself to be swayed. Each corpse set at my feet is like a skewer through my heart, but I cannot risk even a moment of compassion. One by one, each soul freed from its vessel will add to my strength, empowering me and fuelling me with vigour to go on. Only when I am sated from the flesh and life of my people can I return to the war with any hope of persevering.
Countless souls will be wiped from the earth and thrown into my jaws, but the few that survive may live on. There is suffering, I know, but the alternative is annihilation. Even this eternal cycle of life and death is better than an infinite emptiness. Whilst we exist, there is hope. I have long ago lost the will to go on with all this—yet I must.
I accepted this burden willingly, but without any measure of what it would require. I only hope that when I am done, someone—anyone—can find the compassion to forgive me. Sometimes, my own grief is overwhelming and I will my existence to come to an end, but even the luxury of death is far behind me. A god cannot die so simply.
It has been a long time since I was a man and I now find it difficult to understand the workings of the creatures I once walked amongst and loved; yet tirelessly I forge on. Only in lucid moments such as these can I think as I once did and remember that I, too, was once human. Time passes altogether differently in this existence and sometimes the Ages seem to pass like sorrow-laden heartbeats.
I can feel the time is coming again. The eternal war goes on, but would soon falter without me and so I trust my vessel will be ready soon. I pray again that this time will be the last and that my servants will have done their duty, so I will not have so much bitter work to attend to myself. Yes, I can feel the gateway being readied, so I must stand ready to make my harvest.
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