Betrayal

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Betrayal Page 39

by Lara Morgan


  ‘You know I won’t leave him,’ she said.

  ‘No, I thought not.’ He looked at Tallis. ‘Irissa has also found a battle vest, despite her mother’s pleas.’

  ‘I knew she would.’ Tallis couldn’t hide his annoyance.

  ‘She wants to avenge her brother,’ Mailun said.

  ‘So do I,’ Tallis replied, ‘but —’

  ‘She’s a skilled fighter, Tallis,’ his mother cut him off. ‘She deserves to be allowed to fight.’

  ‘And we need everyone we can get,’ Rorc said. ‘Besides, clanswomen have always fought alongside their men if they choose it.’

  Tallis shook his head. ‘Of course, but …’ He suddenly stopped as a bolt of energy filled him. It wasn’t painful; it was more familiar than that.

  ‘Tallis!’ Mailun’s voice was lost in a roar of sound and he barely felt Rorc grip his arm as the hollow emptiness inside him was filled, brimming, aching with life.

  ‘Shaan?’ he gasped aloud, then in his mind, Shaan?

  Tallis, go! Her voice was faint but full of fear. You must leave now! He fell to his knees as a sudden sharp image pierced his mind. A dark sky, full of cloud. No, not clouds, wings, serpents, so many, all carrying something. Then it was gone and the burning presence of her was gone with it.

  Breathless he opened his eyes to see sand, his hands curled in it; he was on his knees.

  ‘Tallis?’ Mailun sounded panicked.

  ‘I’m all right.’ He took a deep breath and sat back on his heels.

  ‘You said Shaan.’ Mailun knelt beside him, her eyes filled with hope. ‘You said her name, Tallis. What happened?’

  ‘It was her, in my mind,’ he said.

  ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘Where is she? What did she say?’ Rorc, calm as always, crouched before him.

  ‘Azoth is on the move.’ Tallis looked at him. ‘She showed me. He is moving his army using the serpents. If we don’t leave now and move fast, he will get to Balkis and the others before us.’

  Rorc stood, his jaw tight. ‘A massacre. We will have to run. I will speak with Hashmael and Miram; there is no time to waste. We must send message birds to the other clans. Get those serpents back.’ He hauled Tallis to his feet and his hand tightened for a moment in Tallis’s, then he was gone, spinning about to run to the Baal tents.

  ‘Is she really all right?’ Mailun said.

  ‘I don’t know. I only felt her for a moment, but she is alive.’

  ‘Alive and with him,’ Mailun said. Tallis nodded but he had nothing else to say.

  ‘I have to see Shila before we go,’ Mailun said. ‘Perhaps she can tell me something more, anything.’ She looked up at him. ‘Can you try to find her again, to … touch her mind?’

  He shook his head. ‘She has a way of closing herself off from me. I don’t know how she does it, maybe because we were apart for so long.’ He shrugged, feeling that awful despairing premonition again, but he could not tell his mother of that. He wasn’t even sure himself what it meant.

  Mailun sighed. ‘Do as your father says, then; call the serpents. We have little time.’ She left him to find the Dreamer and Tallis stood for a moment, watching her go, until he realised with a jolt that Irissa had come out of one of the tunnels and was staring furiously at him, as if it were her his eyes sought. Dressed in the hardened leather vest and loose trousers of a warrior, she carried a spear and shield and had a long knife strapped to her waist. She looked dangerous and beautiful, and fear for her rose in his throat. He turned away and walked out into the desert to call Marathin and Fen back from their hunting.

  Within hours message birds had been sent to the other clans to tell them to come at speed, and all two thousand of the Jalwalah warriors were assembled outside the Well. Mailun and Pilar stood with the healers alongside the pack of muthu that would go with them to carry supplies. A crowd of women, children and elderly stood near the entrance to the great cavern along with the small group of youths who would protect them on their journey to the Baal Well. Their sullen expressions revealed how much they resented missing out on the battle.

  Standing off to the side on his own, Tallis shrugged the pack he was carrying into a more comfortable position and tried to ignore the looks the other warriors were sending his way. It was obvious few of them relished his presence. Despite Miram’s proclamation that he should no longer be considered Outcast, there were still many who looked on him with suspicion. He understood. He could commune with serpents and had survived what should have been a mortal wound; it was the Guides’ work and it made people uneasy. The beliefs of generations would not die just because he said he was here to help.

  The serpents waited patiently at the head of the army, their eyes half closed as if they were dozing. Perhaps he should ride them and stay away from the others. Arak-ferish. Marathin’s voice hissed in his mind and he frowned at her, but she merely snorted, blowing sand in a cloud that had the closest warriors shuffle warily away from her.

  Bakriss! Quiet, he sent to her. As if sulking, Marathin turned her head away, thumping her spined tail once in the sand.

  Rorc, who had been conversing with Hashmael and the other clan leaders at the head of the army, beckoned him to approach.

  ‘Have you any idea how long until Azoth’s army is assembled?’ he asked as Tallis reached them.

  He shook his head. ‘I can only speculate, but I’d say five to seven days, maybe less.’ He saw Hashmael’s frowning face. ‘I asked the serpents and Marathin said their speed would be reduced by the load they carry, but by how much she’s not sure.’

  ‘And?’ Miram said.

  ‘She could not be certain,’ Tallis said, ‘but if Azoth uses the Birthstone, he may be able to speed their journey. But that is a maybe,’ he stressed as the leaders exchanged grim glances. ‘She doesn’t really know what he can do with it.’

  ‘So we need to move,’ Hashmael said. ‘My warriors will start to muster in two days; we need to be in Baal lands to meet them by then.’

  ‘And the Raknah,’ the leader of the warlike clan spoke harshly, his gaze a challenge. ‘We will also be ready.’

  ‘Good, let’s go then. Miram, are your people ready?’ said Hashmael.

  ‘Yes.’ She glanced at Tallis. ‘Take care, son of Mailun; fight well for our clan. For all clans.’ Her look was hard, sad. She would not be going with them, and Thadin had been appointed in her stead. One leader, at least, must survive.

  Tallis nodded to her and then the leaders turned and Miram raised her voice, shouting out the song of the battle cry. Fight well, find shade! And behind her the women not going to battle began to repeat the call, their voices rising to become a chorus of ululating cries as the warriors turned and, in a cloud of sand dust, began to run toward the south.

  Chapter 44

  The sun beat down through the thick cloth of the haldar that covered Tallis’s skull, and the loose long-sleeved shirt shielded his arms as his legs pounded out the unaltered rhythm of the run. It felt good, this running, the steady, measured pace learned from childhood. To be able to move through the vast sands at speed was a skill of survival and one never forgotten. He was thankful he had been training with the Seducers in Salmut or he would never have been able to keep up.

  He ran at the front beside Rorc, the two of them slightly separate from the others, the constant sound of the tread of thousands of feet, the creak of leather and clink of metal following them over the sands. They carried water skins and drank sparingly while on the move, dropping to a walk for three hours while the sun was hottest and then picking up the pace again to run through the night, the moonlight silvering everything to grey as if they ran through a forgotten land. They didn’t stop to rest until mid-morning of the next day. Hashmael called a halt as the sun crept higher and Thadin sent the command back down the lines.

  Tallis sat to rest under the scant shade of a copse of prickle shrubs and Rorc joined him.

  ‘At this pace we should meet up with the Baal tomorrow.�
�� Rorc handed him a fresh water skin. ‘Here, this one is almost cool.’

  Tallis took the skin and tipped it to his lips, taking a swallow of the tepid water while Rorc looked out at the warriors. ‘That Thadin watches you,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I know.’ Tallis handed him back the skin. ‘He was close with Karnit — not friends, or earth brothers — but close enough. He’s never liked me.’

  ‘Clearly.’

  Tallis took in a long breath. He should have felt weary but strangely he didn’t. Since his ability to rule the serpents had grown stronger he had noticed he seemed to need less sleep, less rest. It made him uneasy — it was too like what others might suspect him to be.

  ‘Get some rest,’ Rorc said. ‘It will be another long night.’

  ‘I’m not tired.’

  ‘Rest anyway,’ he said and, taking off his overshirt, rolled it into a ball and used it to rest his head on as he stretched out.

  Tallis broke a dry twig off the prickle bush and began to shred it slowly between his hands.

  ‘Rorc,’ he said quietly, ‘what was it you did that made men from the Baal want to kill you, even though you had already been made Outcast?’

  Rorc slowly sat up. His face was very still, but Tallis sensed reluctance in his tone when he said, ‘Why do you ask that now?’

  ‘Soon we will meet up with the rest of the Baal. Won’t there be more who remember you?’

  ‘And you think I would worry about that?’

  ‘No.’

  A hard smile curved Rorc’s lips. ‘What you really want to know is why I left your mother, why I didn’t go back after I’d killed them.’

  ‘Why don’t you call her by name?’ he said. ‘Why is it always “your mother”?’

  Rorc’s smile fell away. ‘Because that is no longer my right. I gave that up long ago.’

  ‘It is only a name,’ Tallis said.

  ‘A name is never only anything, Tallis. It belongs to the person, it is theirs to give away.’ He sighed. ‘I was young. I did what I thought was best.’

  Tallis watched him flick at an ant crawling over his boot. ‘Will you tell me?’ he asked quietly, and Rorc looked sideways at him, a long, contemplative look.

  ‘I’ll tell you.’ He was silent a moment before he said, ‘There was a young woman in my clan, beautiful,’ he gave a bitter smile, ‘difficult. She was like an earth sister to me. We spent so much time together people thought … well —’ he shook his head, ‘— it didn’t matter what they thought. We were not like that. But there were some who didn’t like it. Her brother. His friends, who coveted her behind his back. I was the leader’s son. They resented me.’

  ‘What happened?’ Tallis said.

  Rorc’s eyes became devoid of emotion. ‘There was a hunting trip. Her, me. Her brother couldn’t go; his father wanted him at the Well for some family business, but his friends went. And they wanted her. One night they did have her — without her consent — and it killed her, so many of them. She fought back but four of them … I could not stop them. I wasn’t like I am now. I didn’t understand then the ugliness that can lie in the hearts of men. When we brought her body back to camp I told my father what they had done and he believed me, but many did not. They had seen how we were together and I was different then. I had a temper not always in control, never mind I would never — have never — turned it on a woman. They wanted to believe the others’ story. Her brother wanted to believe it.’

  ‘They made you Outcast,’ Tallis said.

  He nodded. ‘They were sons of powerful clan members — of men with influence. One of them was the Healer and he saw signs on her body of the fate she had suffered but did not speak of it. Shame and fear kept him silent. That and his ambition for me to be gone and his own son to rise higher. So I left, with their taint on me and rage in my heart.’

  ‘And her brother, he was the one who pursued you?’

  ‘Yes.’ Rorc’s tone was weary. ‘He and his friends. They were afraid I would convince him of their guilt.’ He paused then said, ‘I found out they were coming — it doesn’t matter how,’ he said as Tallis went to ask. ‘I found out. I stopped them.’

  ‘But you didn’t go back,’ Tallis said.

  Rorc studied his hands, the calluses, the scars from years of swordplay. ‘Killing, like that, changes a man. It was not a clean kill, what I did to them. I was full of rage. Condemnation. I took my time. And when I was finished …’ He shook his head. ‘I could not be the man your mother needed. And I did not want to see the look on her face when I had to explain to her why I had left. What I had done.’ He looked at Tallis. ‘She would not have understood. She still may not.’

  ‘If you’d known she was with child, would that have changed things?’ Tallis said.

  Rorc was thoughtful. ‘I’ve asked myself that, but I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. But it is done. Years done. And I’m glad she found a man worthy of her.’

  ‘Haldane was worthy,’ Tallis said. ‘And she was happy.’

  ‘Good. I don’t seek to take his place.’

  ‘You could not.’

  ‘No,’ Rorc agreed, ‘but we can be friends, you and I.’

  ‘Or something like it,’ Tallis answered.

  Rorc’s eyes narrowed slightly but he only said, ‘We have enough trouble to face now. Don’t look for more in the past.’

  Tallis knew it was all he was going to get. Snapping the last strand of the prickly shrub he dropped it and got to his feet. ‘I’m going to get some food — do you want some?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Rorc said. ‘You go. I have things I need to discuss with Hashmael.’

  Tallis turned and made his way through the crowd of resting warriors to the cook-fire his mother was tending. The story his father had told him was on his mind and as he held out his bowl for a serve of meat he noticed Irissa sitting some distance away with a group of warriors, mostly men. She had not yet seen him there, and as he looked at her he heard Rorc’s words again: killing like that had changed him. He had killed, and there would be more of it. She was safer away from him.

  As if hearing his thoughts she met his gaze over the heads of the other warriors. But her glance was cool and she looked quickly away to speak to a young man beside her. He was one of the nomad rangers allied with the Jalwalah who lived outside the Well. A sharp kick of jealousy jabbed at Tallis’s insides. Annoyed with himself he walked away to eat his food with the serpents on the outer edge of the camp.

  Marathin dozed in the sand as he ate his meal, barely tasting it. Put Irissa out of your mind, he told himself — soon you will be at war, soon the god who started the line that gave you life will be coming to kill you.

  Arak-si flies high, Fen whispered in his mind. Flying fast. The father is coming.

  Marathin raised her head and looked skyward to the south. Arak, she echoed, and Tallis lost his appetite.

  Coming to kill, he said, and Fen looked at him with her golden green eye but said no more as all three stared away to the horizon, feeling the shifting in their blood.

  It was close on nightfall when Hashmael called them again to their feet. After resting most of the afternoon they started off again at a fast pace, Mailun riding with the other healers on the muthu as they ran along behind. Striding out at the front, Tallis kept an eye on the serpents as they flapped lazily ahead, their forms fading into shadow as the sun burned the sky red and then disappeared into the blackness of night. The air was cool on his skin and he was conscious of Rorc running alongside him, matching his stride, his own breaths slow and even, the thud and jingle of the mass of warriors at their backs. He felt he could run forever. During the night, Hashmael slowed them all to a walk for a time to keep up their strength, and by dawn they passed the first stone that marked the edge of the Baal lands. Glancing at his father, Tallis saw no hint of what he felt at being back in the lands of his birth.

  The next time they stopped, he drew Rorc away from the other warriors.

  ‘The serpents are getting re
stless the closer we get to the edge of the desert,’ he said. ‘I think I should scout ahead now, get to Balkis and see if Azoth’s army is any closer.’

  Rorc’s expression was hard to make out in the dark. ‘What do you mean, restless?’

  ‘Azoth’s presence is stronger outside the Clan Lands, they can feel the power he has over them as we near the border.’

  ‘Will they turn against us?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Tallis said. ‘Marathin has resisted him before and Fen is from the Isles. The serpents that stayed there seem to have …’ He paused, wondering how to put it, ‘… a resistance to him. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m not sure how strong they will be when confronted by him.’

  ‘Would you be able to control them if they did turn?’ Rorc’s voice was so low Tallis could hardly hear him.

  ‘I think so,’ he said, ‘but how many I could command at once is another thing.’

  Rorc nodded. ‘I guess we will find that out if it happens.’ He rose to his feet. ‘We should go, before the warriors set off again. I need to find out how Balkis has fared, and how many have joined him since he left the city. Come on.’ He began to make his way to where Hashmael was conferring with the leader of the Raknah. ‘There’s no time to waste.’

  Their leaving was delayed, though, when Mailun caught up to them as they approached the serpents.

  ‘Wait, stop.’ She stood in their way. ‘I told you I would not be separated from you again, son, and I meant it. We will be no bother.’

  ‘We?’ Tallis frowned.

  She nodded. ‘Irissa must come also,’ she said.

  Rorc’s expression darkened and he was about to speak when she turned on him.

  ‘No.’ Her tone was hard. ‘We have come too far together, Rorc, and none of us know if we will survive this war.’

  ‘You will survive it better if you stay here with Hashmael,’ he said.

 

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