Matson grinned. “A week ago you’d have paid your arms and legs not to be anywhere near my train, now you’re offering money to get back in?”
“As passengers, not cargo,” she was quick to point out. “There’s a big difference.”
He thought a moment. “Well, Persellus money’s not much use to me, although I could credit it to an open account here in the name of Anchor Logh and get something more transportable in return. Tell you what—if you supply your own horses and packs, and buy what supplies you’ll need for at least a week’s travel, I’ll take you along as duggers— without pay, of course. You’re both pretty good with animals and Jomo’s got more than his hands full with the nearly double-sized train, even though we’re going to pare it down a bit here. We’ll try and give you a few shooting and close fighting lessons, too. How’s that?” He paused a moment. “But no hysterics over the human cargo, no going nuts seeing people who look like other people, things like that.”
“I’ll be good,” Dar responded, knowing who that was directed towards. “I’ve done some real thinking in the past few days, and I’m not the same person inside that I was.”
That settled, Cass asked, “How come they’re going through all this formal trial business for that scum? Why not just let the goddess deal with him and be done with it?”
“Well, now, that’s kind of hard to explain,” Matson replied. “First of all, he’s a wizard. A real puny one, I admit, but a real one nevertheless. There’s a sort of a fraternity that all real wizards belong to, mostly to protect them from each other. They’ve got their own rules, and their conduct has to be judged by other wizards of equal or greater rank before they can be disciplined. It sounds stupid, I know, but every one of them does things all the time that might be considered criminal to others, so they insist on being judged by their own standards. Next time one of the judges might be in the dock, so he or she wants to make sure that they followed the rules when they were judges. See?”
The door to the courtroom opened and a tall, distinguished-looking man entered. He looked to be in his late forties or early fifties but in excellent condition for that age. In fact, age had been very kind to him, and he was lean and handsome, his silvery gray hair complementing his dark complexion.
“I am First Minister Haldayne,” he told them. “I am, in effect, the prosecutor in this case.” He picked up one of the gooier pastries and ate it. “In a few moments we’ll be calling direct witnesses. Just tell everything exactly as it happened, adding or subtracting nothing, and don’t volunteer anything. Just answer what questions are asked, and let me be your guardian against defense questions. Above all, don’t get emotional if you can help it, making moral judgments on the defendant or calling him names. The standards here are a bit different than in a normal court of law.” They all nodded, and he left, then returned a few moments later. “Mr. Matson, if you please.”
Matson went in and the door closed, and both Cass and Dar regretted not being able to see or hear anything. They were used to open, public courtrooms.
Matson’s testimony apparently didn’t last long, and Cass was called next. Haldayne offered his left hand to her to help her up from her overstuffed chair, and as she stood she noticed on his right hand a small but distinctive gold ring. Suddenly she remembered that he’d eaten the pastry with his left hand as well.
She had little time to reflect on it, though, as she was ushered into what appeared to be a traditional courtroom, although with a board of three women and two men acting as judges, and no jury. Haldayne examined her on the facts, and she told her story, almost absently, trying not to be fixated on the man himself but unable to totally betray her preoccupation. The more he talked, the more he moved, the more she was sure.
Rory Montagne looked relaxed in the dock, acting as if this somehow did not concern him at all. He had given a slight smile and wave when she’d entered, and listened to her testimony while absently gnawing on an apple. If she was right, she thought nervously, he had every reason to be unconcerned.
The defense put only a few clarifying questions to her, then she was dismissed, and Haldayne led her back to the jury room and called Dar. When the door closed again, she turned to Matson and whispered, “That man Haldayne—he’s the goat-headed boss! I’m sure of it!”
Matson frowned. “Haldayne? But he’s the bigwig around here, the most powerful wizard in the land, second only to the goddess herself.”
None the less, she outlined her reasons and her instincts, and he did not dismiss them. “It both fits and it smells,” he told her. “The trouble is, we’ll need a lot more proof than you can give for it, and I’m not sure how to get it. Do you think he knows you suspect him?”
“He could hardly ignore it. I wasn’t being very subtle, I’m afraid.”
“Hmmm…. Well, even if he is our man, he’s unassailable as he is, but if he’s as good and as careful as he has to be he won’t want to leave any loose ends.”
She looked at him nervously. “You mean he might try and come after me?”
Matson nodded. “I think you better buy what you need this afternoon and get down to my train. Just follow the road the way you came in. I’ll try and clear my business this afternoon and get back there. If he’s really one of the Seven in this kind of control this close to a Hell Gate somebody will have to be notified. Damn! I wasn’t headed that way, but after Globbus I think we’ll have to take a detour to Pericles. Well, maybe it won’t be a total loss. Pericles always likes fresh young women.”
She looked up at him sharply. “Watch it!”
He shrugged. “No moral judgments, remember? Besides, there’s a lot worse places to wind up than Pericles. But you watch it from now on. He may try anything at any time, and if he is our man and if he’s also what he claims to be, he’s one of the most powerful wizards on all World. He’d have to be just to reach First Minister in Persellus.” He thought it over. “Still, if I were him, I wouldn’t touch you at all. It’d give him away, where all we have now are strong and unsupported suspicions.”
She suddenly remembered the goddess’s comments on her. “Matson? What exactly is a Soul Rider?”
The question took him by surprise. “Huh? Where’d you hear about them?”
“The goddess said I had one inside me.”
His mouth dropped and a light seemed to dawn in his head. “So that explains it! I was wondering if I was too long in this job or what. Uh huh. A Soul Rider. Well I’ll be…. ”
“You do know, then!”
He nodded. “More or less. They are—creatures. Not much is known about them, except that they’re parasites of some kind and they hate the Seven so much they get their hosts in a whole lot of trouble. One picked you, probably back in the Anchor, and most of what happened after that was at least partly its doing.”
She grew nervous. “Parasite. Will it—hurt me?”
He chuckled. “Well, depends on how you look at it. Supposedly they pick people, ordinary people, and get inside them, and all of a sudden those people get into a whole lot of trouble. Things happen to them that wouldn’t happen to most folks in a lifetime. Now I know you’re on to something here with this Haldayne fellow.”
She felt very uncomfortable. “Then, it might have been this Soul Rider that caused me to find the Sister General fixing the lottery in the first place? And the reason Dar took me and only me when he ran?”
Matson nodded. “Probably. But, remember, it’s also responsible for somehow getting me to put my string on you so we could follow your trail and find the pocket. And I don’t think it was coincidence that Montagne was stopped just before he changed you into one of his—creatures, or, maybe, that Dar had an attack of conscience and freed you. In fact, the odds of us finding you first were pretty slim, but we did. And now you’ve drawn the attention of somebody who at least thinks he’s one of the Seven.”
She thought it over. “I’m not sure I like being a puppet of a—thing.” She shivered slightly.
“Well, they�
�re not human, whatever they are, but they’re on our side. You can’t expect them to act like people would, but they’re not all bad. In a pinch, they’re supposedly stronger than the strongest wizard, which is why, I think, the goddess won’t shed any tears when you leave.”
“Still, this makes what happened to Dar even less excusable. I mean, if this thing caused him to do what he did….”
“Nope. You miss the point there. He did that himself. Taking you along might have been the Soul Rider’s idea, but not him running out or anything else he did. In fact, he was completely on their side until it was either kill you or let you escape, in which case he had to go, too, or his neck would have been chopped. You see, it’s the goddess’s opinion that he only saved you because he was forced by your protector to do so.”
“Oh. I see. I’m not sure I agree with it, but I at least can understand it a little better now. I—”
She was about to continue when Dar returned, and all conversation in that direction ceased.
“Thank you for your help,” Haldayne told them, sounding sincere. “The judgment will be rendered some time this afternoon or evening. I think he’s far too insane for any appropriate punishment, but we’ll see. You may all go now.”
They got up and left quickly, Matson following them down to the street. “Remember—move quickly,” he cautioned Cass. “If he’s as good as I think he is, you can’t even depend on the goddess for help in a pinch.”
“I’ll remember,” she assured him. Dar looked bewildered, and she added, to him, “I’ll explain later. Let’s get back to the hotel—we’re getting out of here as quickly as possible.”
By the time they’d packed their meager belongings, bargained for horses, saddles, and riding gear, picked up what supplies they thought they would need, and checked out with Government House, it was close to dark. Matson had been right on one thing, though—everybody concerned seemed unnaturally glad to see both of them leave.
Although he had taken her word for the urgency and gone along, it wasn’t until they were on the road out of Persellus that she felt safe enough to explain to Dar what was going on. He thought about his own brief contact with the goat-man, and admitted there were some similarities, although he was by no means as certain as she about it.
It was well into night when they passed through the small farming village, and they were grateful for the paved road as the stars gave very little light. They stopped to rest the horses, though, in a grass field near a small creek, and while just sitting there, silently, they heard sounds from the direction they’d just come, the sounds of several horses riding steadily towards them.
Cass frowned. “This is too dead a place to have that kind of traffic.”
Dar nodded. “Maybe it’s Matson with some others.”
“I doubt it. He said he had just a little business and he said nothing about horses or passengers.” She thought a minute. “Get the horses and let’s keep very quiet and still off the road here. We can’t outrun them, but they don’t have to see us, either.”
He nodded and did as instructed. There was nothing particular to hide behind, but it was a very dark night and they couldn’t make out the road from where they were, which was down in a slight indentation made by the creek. A small wooden bridge over the creek was not far.
The riders reached the area but did not hesitate, and they could hear the hollow sounds of hooves hitting the wood, echoing hollowly across the landscape, and then they were gone.
Dar breathed. “Could you make out anything about them?”
“Not a thing. Just a blur. There were at least four of them, though.” She sighed. “I wish we knew more about weapons and had some around.”
“If they reach the train and we’re not there, they’ll be back,” Dar pointed out.
“Maybe. But they’ll have to have some excuse when they get to the train, and that should bog them down. No, I think they’ll get close to the train, then lay ambush for us just up from it. It would make sense, and if any of them’s a wizard they won’t attract the duggers, either.”
“We could stay here until daylight. That might make it a little easier. There may be people around, and Matson’ll be on his way back.”
She considered it. “I don’t think it’ll work. For one thing, down this far there weren’t many people. I don’t remember any, do you? And they’re not going to stay all night. When we don’t show after a while they’re going to come back slow and sneaky.”
“Well, what then? If we get off the road we’re lost good and proper and you know it.”
“It’s mostly unfenced this far along, and I guess it’s not more than another seven or eight kilometers to the border and the train. The river’s over there, maybe a few hundred meters. Let’s follow it down. It’s going pretty much the same place but it’s less likely to be covered, particularly by only four people.”
Having no other suggestion, Dar agreed. They followed the creek down to the river, then nervously waded the small creek just up from its joining with the larger body of water. It was fairly deep, but not deep enough to be a problem to two riders used to horses.
The ground, however, was pretty wet, and the depth of the creek told them that the river would be an obstacle in case of any sort of attack, almost certainly too deep to cross. Fortunately, this far down there were few tributaries to worry about, and each one seemed to be shallower than the one before, telling them they were getting close to the border. They thought they were going to make it easily when the river suddenly curved away into the dark hills after making a bend bringing them close enough to actually make out the road.
They stopped to consider what to do next, and there was an ominous rumbling from off to their right. Dar looked over in that direction and saw the hills suddenly light up as clouds rolled in impossibly fast. “Thunderstorm,” he remarked.
“Looks pretty odd for a real one,” Cass responded uneasily. “A good wizard could whip one up, though, and light up the whole landscape and us with it. I’d say we’d better make for the road and just make a run for it as fast as we can.”
“I’m with you,” Dar told her, and they kicked their horses into action. Suddenly a great roaring wall of fire rose up in front of them, spooking the horses and causing them to stop and rear. Less experienced riders would have been thrown, but both Dar and Cass managed to stay in the saddle, if barely. The wall of fire spread, until it encircled them on three sides. With the horses already near panic, they had no choice but to take the one exit, even though they knew they were being forced into a trap.
They cleared the fire, then halted as they saw four riders on horseback ahead, spread out to receive them, guns in the hands of all four. The wall of fire vanished abruptly, and Cass cursed herself for not betting that it was an illusion and urging her horse to jump through it, but the four riders were still somehow illuminated, as were Cass and Dar.
“Just stay where you are and make no sudden moves,” one of them, a man, said. “The fire may have been a trick but the bullets are real. You two, get down slowly and walk towards us, real slow now.”
They did as instructed, until they were right in front of the four riders, all men of middle age, all bearded and wearing farm work clothes. Cass couldn’t help but remember that the goat-man, according to Montagne, had had his “minions” move the dark priest from his old pocket to the new one. These, then, must be minions of the mad priest’s boss.
“What do we do now?” Cass asked them.
The leader chuckled. “Now, ain’t that something! Look at ‘em, Eck! Two pieces of ass pretending they’s men. Neither of ‘em look like they’d be any fun a’tall. I sure don’t want ‘em. Any of you?”
There were a few sniggers from the other three, but no takers.
“Then I guess the answer to your question about what to do next is to pray,” the leader said coldly, steadying his rifle.
Yeah, sure—pray, Cass thought sourly, then hope soared for a moment. Yeah! Sure! Pray! She only hoped that Da
r had enough sense to roll when she did, for there was no way to tip him off. And pray she did.
“Oh, great and divine goddess, deliver us from evil!” she practically shouted, then dropped and rolled at the same time. The leader, caught off guard, fired, but neither target was there any more.
Cass had just made for the grass, but Dar had other plans. While Cass just kept praying in a low tone, he leaped up from the side and pulled one of the men off his horse. The man fell, dropping his rifle, and Dar picked it up as the others were turning to meet the threat, then dropped and rolled once more, coming up in front of them, rifle pointed at them. The fact that he had only a vague idea of how it worked or how to hit anything with it was something he knew, but they did not.
“Drop your weapons!” he commanded sharply.
The leader turned and grinned at him. “Why?” Suddenly the whole area was brightly lit as if from a suspended floodlight, although no source was visible. Dar looked down and was startled to see that he was now pointing a stick at the men.
While a second helped the fallen comrade to his feet, a third dismounted and walked over to where Cass was still lying, now fully exposed, and gestured with his rifle. She got up, but did not stop praying until ordered to shut up.
“Who sent you?” she demanded to know.
“What’s it to you?” the leader asked. He thought a moment. “You know, boys, we could use a simple spell on ‘em to make ‘em easier to take, if you know what I mean.”
“Now you’re talking, Crow,” the one called Eck responded. “I always did hanker to screw that little milkmaid up at Gorner’s. You know who I mean.”
Crow made a pass at each of them with his hand. Cass looked over and was startled to see not Dar but the vision of a very pretty and much smaller dark-haired girl. She knew it was just Dar, and that it was all illusion, but it was still startling. She wondered what she looked like to them.
Spirits of Flux and Anchor Page 15