“What happened?”
Sheera smiled. “He flew away, but I was glad he was free. And before he did, he told me his true name. He was called Drummer.”
Talsy nodded, glancing around at the other women, who all listened raptly to Sheera’s account. They looked away, none willing to share their experiences, probably from shame. Talsy knew what all the tests had been about, however. She did not need to hear their stories. Just as Chanter had told her, the people were tested for love, compassion, forgiveness and mercy in addition to the courage it took to put it into action. Recalling her experiences with Chanter on their long journey, she realised that she had passed all the same tests, in reality.
At dawn’s first light, Talsy crawled from the cramped tent onto frosty grass and froze with a gasp of surprise and dismay. A host of Hashon Jahar stood motionless not twenty paces from the tent. They waited in long lines, four deep, their skins rimed with frost. Only the wind’s faint keening broke the uncanny silence. The chosen who had woken before her regarded their former enemies doubtfully, and Talsy found that she too no longer feared the Black Riders. They surrounded the camp in a sea of stone, their numberless forms stretching away across the plateau and beyond, down onto the vast golden fields below. Ebon lances rested in their stirrups, each perfectly vertical and still. Only the flowing manes and tails of their steeds blowing in the wind gave them movement. Their blank stone faces stared ahead with empty eyes, and the lifeless steeds stood with lowered heads, as if finally exhausted.
Sheera crawled out of the tent behind her, gasped and grabbed Talsy’s arm. Her shock turned to wonder as she gazed at the Hashon Jahar, taking, as they all were, this rare opportunity to study the Riders up close. Curiosity drove Talsy to walk closer to one and study its peaceful stone visage’s noble features. Whose souls did it carry, she wondered, and how had they died? What atrocities had those empty eyes witnessed? Timidly she touched its armour-clad leg, sensing the sorrow it carried within its cold flesh. An icy drain tingled her fingertips, as though it sucked the life from her. She snatched her hand away and retreated, then paused to stroke the steed’s nose, as soft as a living horse, as cold as stone. It did not breathe, nor did a pulse beat in its neck, and no spark of life glowed in its empty eyes.
Shivering, she joined Kieran, who stood with the rest of the chosen, gazing at the Riders. She waited beside him, realising with a start that the horses had gone. No one broke the eerie silence of the Hashon Jahar, who awaited their destruction. How strange it was to stand so close to the creatures that had wiped out every other member of Truemankind, and not to fear them, she mused.
Talsy glanced up as a shadow passed overhead, and three eagles glided down to land on the grass. In a rush of Ashmar, they transformed together. Talsy longed to run to Chanter’s side, but something told her to stay where she was. He glanced back at her, shooting her a brief smile. At the Mujars’ arrival, a flicker of animation passed through the Riders. Many of the blank stone faces momentarily changed, revealing a glimpse of a soul’s tormented visage. In moments the ripple of reaction vanished, and the riders returned to their static state.
For what seemed like an eternity, the Mujar faced the Hashon Jahar. Only the wind’s soft keening disturbed the dream-like hush. Then Chanter looked at Drummer and made an enigmatic gesture, shattering the tableau’s stillness. Drummer plucked a great drum, made from carved wood and stretched hide, from the air. He set it on the ground before him, its top reaching his waist. Chanter and Dancer moved away from him, taking up positions with Dancer in the middle.
The wind died away, ending the faint, mournful keening of its song, and Drummer struck the drum. The boom rolled away into the silence, and he struck it again, beginning a slow, monotonous beat. Just as slowly, Dancer raised his hands to make the graceful Mujar gestures that had always puzzled Truemen. Their meaning was no clearer now, but their gravity and importance was obvious. His hands soared, fluttered, weaved and braided the air in a way that fascinated the eye. Drummer’s tempo quickened, and Dancer’s feet joined the stately grace of his hands, floating over the ground in a complicated pattern of steps.
The tempo increased again, and Dancer leapt and twirled with grace no ballet dancer could hope to emulate. All eyes were riveted to him, save Talsy’s, who tore her fascinated gaze from Dancer to watch Chanter. The oldest Mujar watched the dancer too, his eyes following the flowing movements of his elder son. Dancer performed the Dance of Destruction with tireless ease, his skin gleaming golden in the soft, reflected light of the rising sun, which had not yet risen above the mountains. Drummer’s beat increased yet again, and Dancer seemed to float above the ground, cleaving the air with whipping spins and lashing gestures that never faltered or lost their flow.
As the first ray of light probed through the snow-clad peaks and illuminated the plateau, Chanter turned to face the Hashon Jahar. His hands hung at his sides and his face was expressionless, but he filled his lungs and chanted words that had no meaning for the Trueman watchers. Each was clearly enunciated in a flat monotone that rose and fell only slightly on a disharmonic scale. He spoke god words. Talsy recognised the harsh language she had heard at the reading of the laws. He repeated the verses over and over again, sometimes with different inflections or words, and she wished she understood it. She found the rhythmic chanting hypnotic. The drumming numbed her brain and Dancer’s lithe grace was utterly captivating.
The verses ended, and his chant became what seemed like a story, a flat monologue without cadence or rhyme. Dancer’s feet flew over the ground in a floating whirlwind, and Drummer’s meter slowed. The Hashon Jahar stood unmoved and silent, but the chosen swayed to the beat, their eyes glazed.
Chanter’s story ended, and he switched back to the verses, then chanted single words in a slowing tempo. Drummer’s beats followed him, and the dancer’s steps slowed with it. A gasp went through the people as the sky filled with glowing multi-coloured arches that ringed the plateau with brilliant hues. Chanter and Drummer fell silent at the same instant, the last word and drumbeat fading into a deathly hush. Dancer froze in a crouched position and raised his head.
A pearly light rose from the Hashon Jahar, like mist rising from a lake. The light formed glowing spheres that drifted above the black statues, hundreds, thousands, then beyond number. The lights floated upwards, all moving in one direction. Those beyond the Mujar passed overhead, those behind the chosen moved away, heading for the Lake of Dreams. The chosen gaped at the drifting globes, as plentiful as stars in a clear night sky. Many people wept, touched by the joy that filled the air. Talsy turned to follow the souls’ progress as they entered the Lake of Dreams. They vanished into the dimension of soft misty light and pearly flowers, a peaceful realm untouched by the rigours of life.
When the last had vanished into the Land of the Dead, she turned back to the three Mujar who stood together, gazing at the sea of black statues. Chanter raised his hands and brought them together, then jerked them apart as if tearing some invisible substance. A thunderclap rolled across the valley, and the rainbows vanished as swiftly as they had appeared. As they did, the Hashon Jahar crumbled so swiftly Talsy was not sure if she had actually witnessed it, or whether she had blinked at that instant.
One moment the Riders and their steeds stood before her, the next they simply collapsed into a mass of rubble. A pall of black dust rose over them, hanging in the fresh morning air like a shadow. The faint rumble of their destruction faded, leaving behind another hush. Almost as quickly as the Black Riders had fallen, they melted away. The rubble soaked into the soil like sand into an hourglass’s waist. All around them, the mighty ocean of ebon rock dwindled, revealing the green grass of the plateau beneath. Within moments, no trace of the dead army remained, swallowed up by the earth that had birthed them, sucked down into the hot dark depths from which they had emerged.
A stunned silence followed, then the wind keened again, and the people seemed to awaken from a trance, glancing around. They sank down on th
e grass, too overwhelmed by what they had witnessed to voice their amazement. Their reeling minds clearly struggled to absorb the miracle that had taken place with such swift decisiveness. Talsy gazed around, taking in the historic scene. This dawn birthed a new day and a new era on this magical world. The banners of Prince, Staff and Mujar wound their long silken blue skeins, seeming to float in the cloudless sky. The perfection of the white-tipped peaks and velvet green slopes offset the gathered Truemen who had survived the rigours of testing.
The enormity of the occasion took her breath away, and she too sank down on the cool grass. She, Chanter and Kieran had changed the fate of Truemen and this world forever. An age seemed to pass before anyone moved, and then they found new miracles to astound their bewildered minds. Springs of fresh clear water bubbled from the grassy earth, and a flight of winged, multi-coloured creatures of this world glided down from the sky. They spread fragile wings to catch the sun and filled the air with musical cries.
After staring at them in stunned delight, Talsy jumped up and went to one of the beasts. She ran her hands over its silken skin, marvelling at its calm acceptance of her. It turned and dipped a wing to offer the fleshy fronds that grew on its back like feathers. She plucked one and ate it, its delicious scent stirring her appetite. Others, their thirst slaked, followed her example and plucked fronds from the beasts, which seemed to delight in their hunger. More and more creatures of this world arrived, some on wings, others on stilt-like legs, eager to share their nourishment. Their hoots and honks mingled with the people’s delighted laughter, and the atmosphere became reminiscent of a picnic.
“You like it?” A voice beside her made her jump, and she turned to find Chanter at her side. “This is the future,” he said, “the gods’ gift to their adopted children. Never will there be hunger again, no reason to hunt and kill, to shed innocent blood to fill the bellies of the more powerful. The creatures of this world will henceforth live amongst you, and their bounty will be yours. There are other kinds, who shed silken skins that you can use for clothing, and you can still take wool from your sheep and milk from your cows, but killing is forbidden on this world.”
She nodded. “It will be a paradise.”
“It’s always been a paradise. You just couldn’t see it.”
“What was your chant about? What did it mean?”
His smiled. “Always questions, my little clan. Is your curiosity never satisfied?”
“The wonders never cease.”
Chanter chuckled, then sobered. “The chant was the enumeration of their sins, their punishment, the foretelling of their future and the releasing of their souls. They’re at peace now, and will be reborn as chosen.”
“What will happen now?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. The chosen are free to return to their cities or build new ones, live their lives as they choose. But now they must obey the laws of this world. You may plough the land and reap what you sow, but not enslave horses to do it. You may eat the fruit of trees and shrubs, but not cut a living tree without the permission of the Kuran who guards it. You know the laws, they all do now.”
She gazed around at the happy scene, trying to remember when last she had seen so many people so joyful. “Your gods are wise.”
“All gods are wise, but some do things differently to others.”
Chapter Thirteen
At Talsy’s insistence, Chanter took her to the site of the crashed silver bird, but there were only a few scraps of shiny metal and some strange slippery ropes filled with copper wire. He told her that most of it was buried now with time, and should remain so. Long ago, Truemen had looted the ancient ship and taken all the gold and valuable items.
After a few days on the plateau, the chosen set out en mass, but soon split up to go their separate ways. King Ronos took his daughter and people back to their city, the little brown people vanished into a forest, and the Aggapae returned to the valley with Talsy, Kieran and the few remaining chosen from their village. They settled back into the castle under the blue banners to live the peaceful existence the gods had promised. The Aggapae retained the friendship of the horses, and farmers still kept sheep and cows, but the rest of the Truemen animals were released to return to the wild or perish, as was their wont. Dancer and Drummer came and went. Chanter spent more time in the valley than his sons, and when he left, Talsy required the company of her Mujar son.
Months passed in tranquillity, and when her time came, Danya gave birth to Travain’s daughter. The child delighted Talsy with her ink black hair and bright blue eyes. Talsy clasped her rotund belly and hoped that her child would look the same. A month later, she birthed a healthy baby boy with Chanter’s eyes and hair, and her joy was complete. She named him Ordal, and Chanter even made an effort to show an interest in the child, which pleased her greatly.
Drummer could not accept his fatherhood any more than Chanter had been able to with Travain, and, a few months after Traya’s birth, an Aggapae boy paid court to Danya and wed her. With hunting forbidden and food readily available, the young men invented entertaining games and jousts to occupy their time, which crowds of appreciative spectators watched. At the tender age of twenty-three, Shan became headman of the Aggapae when Thorn ousted Nort in a tremendous battle, and the ageing stallion retired to the bachelor herd. Sheera and Shern set up house in the village, Kamish wed a stout Aggapae warrior, and Shan tied the knot with a doe-eyed girl.
With the slow advance of the seasons, autumn reddened the leaves of the little forest by the lake when Talsy woke one morning to find Chanter perched on the edge of her bed. He had been away for a week, and her joy at his appearance was unreserved. He returned her hug with his usual forbearance, and when he held her away she noticed his excitement. His eyes glowed with a deep happiness tinged with sadness, an odd mixture that made her frown at him in puzzlement.
“What is it? What’s happened?” she demanded.
“My poor little clan.” He sighed. “How I long to share my joy with you, yet for you it’s sorrow.”
“What do you mean?”
Chanter rose and went to the window to gaze out across the valley. Talsy donned her robe and joined him.
He said, “The gods have given Drummer, Dancer and me a great gift.”
“That’s wonderful! What is it?”
“It’s the ultimate gift. The one all Mujar have always longed for. The one we were promised at the completion of our task, ages ago.”
“So tell me!”
He turned and gripped her shoulders, his eyes intense. “You remember the promise I made you, that I would always return to you?”
“Yes.” A quiver of trepidation went through her at his serious tone and intent gaze. “What of it?”
“I won’t break it.”
“Good.” Her frown deepened. “I never thought you would.”
“Nor shall I. Remember that.”
“Stop being so damned mysterious. What’s this gift, and when did you get it?”
He released her and turned to gaze out of the window again. “I was away in the wilderness, enjoying the hospitality of a forest Kuran, when Antanar came to me. It’s a great honour I never thought to receive, to see him in the flesh. He looked Mujar, just as you thought he would. He came to me in a forest glade, and the birds sang his welcome, the beasts bowed to him, and the trees dropped green leaves and flowers in his path. Every living thing rejoiced at his presence, and sunlight clothed his nakedness.
“He held the Staff of Life, symbol of his power, and his eyes shone with infinite love. When I knelt before him he bade me rise and stand as his equal. He smiled at me, and told me how pleased he was that I had found the First Chosen. He ordered me to follow him and led me to a pool, where he bade me to look well at my reflection and asked if it was mine. I answered truthfully that it was not. He seemed well pleased with this, and said...” Chanter trailed off, his brows drawing together.
Talsy gripped his arm and tried to make him look at her. “What?” she demand
ed. “What did he say?”
“He has promised to return our true forms to us.”
“What do you mean?”
He turned to her, his eyes worried. “You remember I told you that the gods changed us, made us look like Truemen and sent us amongst you. This is not our true form. Mujar don’t look like this.”
She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to remain steady. “What do you look like?”
“Very different from you. Like the beasts of this world, of which we are kin. We have, as they do, the colours of the rainbow in our skins, and the Ishmak plants that bear us do also. In our true form we cannot speak your language, although we would still understand you.”
“Then I’d lose you!” she cried, clinging to his arm, afraid he would slip from her grasp and fly away forever.
“No, not altogether. I would still return and spend time with you, and you could still talk to me.”
“But you wouldn’t be able to talk to me, and we could no longer... be together.” Talsy fought back tears as she remembered the blissful nights of tenderness she had shared with him, lying in his embrace, close to his warmth and strength. The time he spent away was a trial of loneliness and pining, although Ordal comforted her, and the knowledge that Chanter would return gave her the fortitude to survive the ordeal with some semblance of cheerfulness.
“No,” he agreed, “we could not do that, but I will only look different. I’ll still be me.”
“It wouldn’t be the same, you know that!”
“No, it won’t be the same.”
“I can’t let you go. Please don’t ask me to!” Her eyes overflowed, and a tight knot grew like a hard pain in her chest. “Don’t leave me. You promised!”
Broken World Book Four - The Staff of Law Page 25