A Place Among the Fallen [Book One of The Omaran Saga]

by Adrian Cole

  'It must be done,’ said Korbillian. ‘Speed serves us best. If we delay, there is more risk. The east is awake and preparing.’

  Wargallow nodded. ‘You can be sure of that.’

  'What help will you provide?’ Elberon challenged him.

  Wargallow gestured magnanimously. ‘Whatever is required. In the name of the Preserver. No one will question his commands. I myself have already thwarted the east, when I failed to oblige their creatures at the gorge. Possibly I am marked by them. Since Omara appears to be in dire peril, however, I will place my men at Korbillian's disposal. I am prepared to bow to his command.’

  Lying through his smile, thought Guile. ‘And the price?’

  Wargallow's smile never wavered. ‘The freedom of Omara. You, of course, have a price of your own in mind.’

  'Omara's safety is enough,’ Guile grinned. ‘We understand each other at least.’

  They were interrupted by the arrival of one of Wargallow's guards. He spoke to Wargallow, who addressed the company at once. ‘Your man Ruan has been sighted. In an hour he will be at the bridge.’

  'Already!’ gasped Korbillian.

  'I will have them brought here safely,’ said Wargallow.

  'I'd better see that there is no trouble between my men and Strangarth's,’ suggested Elberon. ‘Not too long ago they were cutting each other to pieces.’

  Sisipher answered. ‘Kirrikree says Ruan has already spoken to Ilassa's men. They will not cause trouble.’

  Elberon chuckled. ‘No, but I would be more at peace reminding my men to steady themselves.’

  'Excellent,’ said Guile. ‘And you'd better get word to Ottemar.’

  Elberon nodded and excused himself. None of Wargallow's men interfered. Their own instructions were very clear. The Faithful would not dispute his decisions, and he had told them to make it clear to any other Deliverer that the Preserver was holding a number of audiences with men from outside and that there was to be no disobedience. When Elberon led the next party of men up into the keep, there were many secret glances, much puzzlement, but no one impeded them.

  Ruan and Ilassa entered the audience chamber side by side and Brannog was pleased to see them both in good health. Korbillian was also relieved, but a shadow clouded his face as he confronted Ilassa. ‘I am deeply sorry for what happened to Taroc. I sought to use the earth to save him.’

  'Aye,’ nodded Ilassa. ‘Yet it was the power of the earth that saved me.’ He beamed at Ygromm, whose own face had lit up with delight.

  Ruan eyed Wargallow dubiously once the reunion was complete. ‘I trust my little deceit is forgiven, under the circumstances?’

  Wargallow laughed gently. ‘You acted commendably. I have to applaud you for your presence of mind.’

  Into the hall now came Ratillic, his expression mournful, his eyes avoiding Kirrikree as if his own guilt stood before him. No one ran to him, or called out cheerfully, though Korbillian went quietly to him.

  'I hope that the enmity between us is ended?’ he said.

  'If Omara is truly in peril, I cannot stand by. I will go with you, and add what power I have to your own,’ Ratillic said bluntly, though his deep resentment could not be completely hidden. He was far more subdued now, but Korbillian sensed his resoluteness. He had made a decision, and one that pained him, but he was committed.

  Korbillian looked around him. ‘I had begun to think that our quest would be hopeless, but now I am not so sure.’

  'Success is not guaranteed,’ said Ratillic.

  'Perhaps not.’ Korbillian addressed them all. ‘Then you are willing to be led by me?’

  No one demurred.

  'I can promise that men will die.’

  Ratillic ignored this and brought forth from his robes a number of rolled parchments. He placed them on the table. ‘These are the maps you asked for,’ he said, looking now straight at Kirrikree. ‘They mark clearly the way to the edge of the great Silences, and across them. But beyond that, as you will see, the paper is blank.’

  Wargallow seemed startled. He came forward and watched eagerly as Korbillian unrolled the first of the intricate maps. The inkwork was meticulous, the detail beautifully worked, and more than one breath was drawn in at sight of such artistry.

  'I am indebted,’ said Korbillian. ‘To all of you.’ But can I weld them together? he wondered. There is so much hatred here. How can they trust me? Even Ratillic, my fellow Hierophant, has wished me dead before now. Is it truly possible that they will follow me to a place where death waits?

  Wargallow gave further instructions to his men, who left at once to obey him. ‘I suggest we seal this remarkable gathering in a toast. We pride ourselves on the quality of the wine in our keep. Will you take a little?’

  When it arrived, Ygromm was first to sample it, and he pronounced it good (implying somehow that he meant it was not poisoned) but Wargallow was amused by the expressions on the faces of his guests. He insisted on drinking first. ‘To us all,’ he said, as goblets were raised. ‘And to success in the east.’

  The company echoed him.

  'And also,’ added Wargallow, ‘to the fall of the mad Emperor of Goldenisle, Quanar Remoon.’

  This time there was hesitation. Wargallow smiled at Ruan and Guile. It was time to move another piece on the board of his game. ‘And of course, success to the Emperor's cousin and his cause. I hope it will not be too long before you take your rightful place upon the throne, Ottemar.’

  Guile's face gave nothing away, but before he could reply, Wargallow spoke quickly to Ruan. ‘You did very well to steal him away from me, but that was before I realised who I had in my grasp,’ he chuckled.

  Ruan's eyes sparkled as he lowered his goblet to the table. ‘I guessed you did not know, and so my risk was a calculated one. The life of the heir—” But now he stopped, frozen both by the look of triumph on Wargallow's face and by that of shock on Guile's and Elberon's.

  'Hold your tongue!’ snapped the warlord, and it seemed that he must surely bring out his sword.

  Guile's hand clamped on his arm, and his anger was well concealed. ‘He's tricked you,’ he told Ruan, but without malice.

  'Come, come,’ said Wargallow. ‘We have already agreed that now is a time for honesty! Since we are to pool our fortunes, let us see what it is each of us risk.’

  'Then you are Quanar's cousin,’ Korbillian said to Guile. ‘How much that simple fact explains.’

  Guile bowed. ‘You can hardly blame me for wanting to maintain secrecy.’

  'There is no need for others to know,’ Korbillian said, with a pointed look at Wargallow.

  'Quite so,’ said Elberon, with an equally sharp look at the Deliverer, ‘just as the death of the Preserver should be a secret.’

  Wargallow inclined his head. This was politics that he understood. ‘I am content to agree.’ He looked across at the crestfallen Ruan. ‘I would say that matters between us are equal.’

  No one but Wargallow smiled, and Ruan's goblet slipped over, spilling red wine across Ratillic's map. A ribbon of scarlet ran across the map to the east, collecting in a pool where their destination would be found, and as it did so there was a crushing silence.

  18

  THE STORM

  They emerged from the mountain passes a week later, Ratillic's maps having proved accurate, and they camped that evening on the lower slopes of the range facing east. Clouds obscured that view, but they knew that they were within a few days of the desert's edge. Korbillian had been relieved at the way the mixed company had conducted itself on the journey. Strangarth's men, most of whom he had now spoken to quietly, had been rowdy and cheerful, but Ilassa, who controlled them well, put this down to their nervousness. They had never been this far from their homelands and were not at all sure of the other men around them. Elberon's troops were a different breed; orderly, disciplined, they were careful not to breach their military codes, and they were much more prepared to accept the others. Elberon had said that once any fighting began, new fr
iendships would be forged. The Deliverers (and Wargallow had kept his word and assembled many of them) moved on with their usual silence, none of them appearing to question their orders. There was, however, something of an atmosphere hovering over the army, and the tensions that flowed through it ran deep.

  Brannog detached himself from the company a number of times, going with Ygromm to rally the Earthwrought, who preferred to travel their own separate ways to the east, though their presence near at hand was somehow always felt, and it brought an unexpected comfort to the travellers. In those small folk pulsed an excitement, a hunger almost, to be beyond the desert, to confront what waited there Kirrikree and his people were not often seen, for the owls were wary of so many men, but their presence was also felt. And there were hawks and ravens, eagles and falcons that swooped above, often in groups, all moving eastward.

  Ratillic was rarely with the company and wandered to the far flanks of the march, and when he was seen, it was in the company of wolves and other creatures, but he was no less purposeful than anyone else.

  Evening fell on the slopes, a brief twilight as the mountains swallowed the sun. Korbillian sat with Wolgren, who rarely left his side, Guile, Sisipher and Ilassa. Elberon, as he always did at this time of day, was visiting his men, looking for signs of unrest or drop in morale. He had not yet found either, although he knew that his men were unsure of the cloaked Deliverers, sharing no conversation with them as yet.

  Wargallow walked up to the knoll, to where Korbillian and the others sat, knowing that he would never be accepted as part of this company in the same way as they were. Yet it suited him. He felt sure that he was not trusted, in spite of his reassurances that he had come to terms with the need to work together against the common evil.

  'The desert is not far,’ he said. ‘We have been fortunate to come so far without incident. Is there news from the others?’

  Korbillian shook his head. ‘Kirrikree and his birds scour the land on all sides. Everything is quiet. Unexpectedly so.’

  'And beneath us?’

  'I am expecting Ygromm's report at any time. What of your men? Are they ready for the crossing?’

  'We will need fresh water soon.’

  'Ygromm will tell us where it is safe to draw it. Kirrikree says it will take us at least seven days to cross the Silences. There will be no water in the desert.’

  'And on the other side? Will the water be safe there?’

  'It can be purified.’

  'Then we will all be in your debt,’ Wargallow smiled.

  'As I am in yours.’

  Brannog arrived soon afterwards. ‘The word from the Earthwrought is promising. There is a clear lake between us and the desert and we should have all we need for the crossing. Ygromm has met not only his own Earthwise, but three from other tribes, and all have sent men. But we reach the place where it is impossible for them to travel below the ground. They will cross the desert with us, and there will be many hundreds of them.’

  'It will give confidence to the men,’ said Wargallow. ‘Mine are no less uneasy than any of the others. They are uncertain.’

  'Are you?’ said Guile.

  'Of course,’ nodded Wargallow. ‘But I have made my decision.’

  'I don't foresee an attack,’ said Korbillian. ‘The Silences will be no place for conflict. The east will be ready, though. We must expect that.’

  Sisipher stared straight ahead of her, face white. ‘It is like a hound scenting the wind. I see through the jungle there, and beyond.’

  'Use your gift,’ urged Brannog. ‘What do you see, Sisipher?’

  She studied an unseen future terrain, searching it for tangibles, then her eyes seemed to find something. Shock stabbed at her and she recoiled, only her hands preventing a scream. Wolgren and Guile moved closer at once, and Brannog held her.

  'What is it?’ said Wargallow. ‘What does she see?’

  But the girl had withdrawn into herself, shaking her head.

  'Will she not speak?’ Wargallow persisted.

  Brannog waved him away. Holding down his annoyance, Wargallow turned to Korbillian. ‘What do you know of this?’

  'I have said that the east is diseased. We cannot expect to find anything but terror there. Sisipher should not try to look for it.’

  'But what use is her gift?’ said Guile.

  'It can still help us,’ said Korbillian. ‘There will be pitfalls in the Silences as there were in the snowfields above Sundhaven.’

  That night, though they were not attacked, they felt a change in the air, as though something had billowed from the east like a cloud, and in their fevered sleep they saw the plateau beyond the desert and each of their imaginations depicted it crawling with all manner of evil. Even Ratillic, who remained aloof, higher above them in the rocks with his wolves at his feet, felt the onset of this invisible cloud. It had eyes, he thought, and was sure that messages sped back to the east moment by moment. It was becoming very difficult to keep the birds from westward flight, and only the wolves remained with him of the other creatures.

  No sooner had the first pale rays of dawn filtered through the eastern mists than the army marched. It was orderly, efficient, and there was little delay as the various columns threaded their way through the foothills and down to the forests below. These were much greener and fuller than the forests of the Three Rivers to the north west, although oddly silent. Word came from Ygromm's folk that all of the creatures that had lived here had long since migrated, and overhead there were no birds, their usual incessant song sadly missed. The only creatures that Ygromm's folk found were dead, with nothing to show why, or how long they had been dead. Yet their corpses had been somehow preserved for the army to stumble across.

  Elberon came to Guile as they rode through the grave-like silence. ‘How much more of this deathly forest? There are soldiers here like dead men. I would rouse them with a marching song, but something within me will not respond. The place seems devoid of life, and yet we fear to make a sound.’

  'It is empty,’ returned Guile. ‘Ygromm reported an hour ago. Under the earth are many bones. But the evil has retreated, too. Soon we meet the Earthwrought at the lake. After that they will remain on the surface with us. This is truly a grim place. And yet we have not even reached the Silences. It may have been a mistake to attempt this crusade.’

  Elberon glanced sharply at him. ‘But if this power is spreading, it is well that Korbillian has forged this army. It may have been better to have brought every last man.’

  Guile's brows raised. ‘Oh, you sing a different song?’

  Elberon showed no sign of amusement. ‘How could we know what was here, and what lies beyond? Evil such as this must be destroyed.’

  Wargallow, riding at the head of the long column of Deliverers over to the left of Elberon's troops, was thinking very much the same thing. No king or ruler could feel safe in his capital with powers like this abroad. Every man here would need his wits about him day and night from now on.

  A few days later they reached the lake, but it did little to raise spirits. Although the water seemed clear and unpolluted, a mist clung to it, wraith-like and full of elusive movement. No one drank from the waters until Korbillian gave the word. When Ygromm appeared at the edge of the dreary forest at last, it was to confirm this as the last safe water they would find. Each man filled his containers, and spare horses were loaded with water carriers. As they left the lake and went on through the forest, they found the way dropping downwards and they could feel the heat of the lands below rising up to meet them like the hot breath of some awesome beast, with nothing at all wholesome in it. The trees thinned and became scrub-like copses, scattered about like the remnants of a fire, and the vegetation was withered and thin. The earth looked scorched, burned up by a freakish heat, the grass seared. Already the transition from forest to barren moor and wasteland seemed too dramatic, too unnatural. Geographical changes that normally took hundreds of miles had been shriveled into a mere score, conditions warped an
d fused.

  Another day passed and there were no trees. The ground was hard and dry, boulder-strewn, the stones cracked and blistered. No one could doubt that each step eastwards brought them to a land already dead. The Earthwrought travelled with them now, none of them prepared to find a way below ground for fear of the effect that it would have on them, for Ygromm pointed out that they could see and feel more suffering in the very soil than they would have believed possible.

  Wolgren thought of the snows and of the blasts of winter back in Sundhaven (was it yet winter?) and it seemed unreal to be in such heat so quickly. The sun here blazed more fiercely than any summer sun in his village home, and he felt faint as it reached its midday zenith. Korbillian alone seemed unaffected, his thoughts and emotions, as so often, completely clouded.

  When they came to the cliffs that marked the upper edge of the Silences, they rested. Beyond them now was a drop of several thousand feet, the sheerness broken by the great slopes of scree and collapsed rubble from the cliff walls. Once the sea had battered these majestic ramparts, even overlapped them, but now there was nothing beyond but an endless ocean of dust, without a rock to break its monotony. Korbillian called together the leaders of the columns, and they all studied the spreading panorama before them. There should be no desert here, they all knew. It should be water, with islands, forests, abundant life. The sun should not be so cruel, but the real heat came up from the sand, up from beneath it, as if a furnace blazed there, fuelled by the unthinkable forces beyond this desert. Each of them was aware of the immense depth of power that could twist a season, make a desert of a sea.

  'There is no way to reach the Mound,’ said Korbillian, ‘except by crossing this dead ocean.’ Close beside him, clinging to a rock, was Kirrikree, who was dusty and less imposing than before. ‘The owl has found the safest way down for us, and his birds will show us a possible route to follow. There is great evil in this place below. What lies buried here is a mystery beyond time, but the power of the east has sent out its workings through these sands. We cannot know what effects they have had on anything there. If there is life, the east may use it to attack us.’