The Jasper Forest

by Julia Gray

  In retrospect it was fortunate that most of Fenduca's inhabitants had been part of the impromptu gathering outside the Mirana cabin. At that time of the morning many people would usually have been at work in the river, and the fact that they had been crowded together on what was a relatively stable part of the terrain had probably saved many lives. As it was, the number of casualties was still distressing. Two men, who had left the shrine as soon as the flag ceremony was over in order to claim the best spots in the river, were dead -

  one drowned, the other dashed against rocks by a sudden deluge of water.

  Another was missing, his body almost certainly buried beneath one of the landslides. In addition, four homes had been completely destroyed, two crushed by falling rock and two washed away by torrents of diverted water. Three of these homes had been unoccupied, but the fourth -belonging to the Nemenz family - was not. Liliana had been unable to attend the ritual at the Red Moon's shrine because of her fever, and her mother had stayed behind to nurse her. They had both been carried away and drowned when a natural dam higher up the mountainside had given way, and Liliana's father had been badly injured during his desperate and hopeless attempts to save them. Solan now lay in a neighbour's hut, with both legs broken and one of his hands crushed beyond repair -tormented not only by his own injuries but also by the loss of his family. And he was far from the only one needing the ministrations of friends.

  Many others had been injured or made homeless by the quake. Although die tremor had been mild compared to others that Fenduca had endured, its timing had left the villagers shaken and afraid.

  In the immediate aftermath of the upheaval, there had been too much to do for any other considerations to be taken into account. However, once the most pressing needs had been seen to and a semblance of calm had returned, the mood began to change.

  Terrel's unexpected excursion had left him weak and feverish, and he spent much of the day fading in and out of consciousness, plagued by dream visions.

  When he awoke he was back in his room, alone. He remembered his premonition but nothing of the quake itself— and was desperate to know whether his warning had been heeded. However, beyond the self-evident fact that Ysatel's home was still standing, he had no way of telling what had happened — and as no one came to see him, he could not even attempt to find out.

  A mixture of memories and foreboding mingled with nightmare images in his overburdened brain, but he slowly managed to separate fact from fiction, and was gradually able to think a little more clearly. Even though he did not remember the tremor, he was sure that one had taken place. Quite how he was able to make these predictions had always been a mystery to him, but it had happened too many times now for him to doubt his peculiar talent. The certainty simply arrived in his mind unbidden, transmitted as an internal trembling deep inside him. He had learnt to trust his instincts, and had used them to good effect in the past — and now he could only hope that his efforts had been of some benefit to his new companions.

  Time passed, and still no one came to see him. Terrel slept again -

  dreamlessly for once - and woke feeling rested and refreshed. He was still alone, but a small thrill of happiness lightened his usual misery. Physically, he felt better than he had done since he'd been cast adrift from Vadanis, and

  - for the first time in exile - he was able to entertain a little hope. It was as if being able to warn his hosts about the impending danger had awoken in him an inner strength he'd forgotten he possessed. That in turn was giving him a renewed sense of purpose, reinforcing his belief that it might still be good to be alive.

  He almost forced himself to get up, but thought better of it, remembering his earlier collapse and deciding to wait until someone could help him. He lay back, hoping that Ysatel - or one of the others - would visit him soon, and in spite of fully intending to stay awake until they did, he fell asleep again.

  We've taken a viper into our midst!' Cutter declared.

  'This is no viper,' Kerin retorted. 'Look at him!' He pointed to where Terrel sat on a blanket, watching the proceedings through half closed eyes, his whole body tense. The boy had still been asleep when, at Cutter's insistence, he had been carried out of the hut to face his accusers, but the noise of the arguments had woken him. He had glanced around, looking at the audience with a mixture of apprehension and uncertainty that had since changed to fear.

  Although he looked harmless enough, most of the villagers had glimpsed his eyes, and knew that there was something odd about him.

  'How can he be a threat to anybody?' Kerin challenged.

  Terrel was obviously still very weak. Even his good arm was thin and wasted, and his face was gaunt, with dark shadows beneath his eyes.

  'Sorcery doesn't require physical strength,' Mitus countered.

  The villagers' discussion had now been left to the two men whose views were most directly opposed to each other. The rest had either had their say already or were content to leave the debate to the two spokesmen.

  The earlier meeting had been brought to a sudden halt by the stranger's unexpected and incomprehensible announcement, and by the turmoil caused by the earthquake, but it was inevitable that the arguments about him would be raised again at this later, formal gathering. Once again, at Farazin's decree, the inhabitants of Fenduca had come together outside Kerin's house, in order to discuss matters that concerned everybody — and which, after the events of the day, had taken on an increased urgency. Theoretically, only the elders were supposed to speak at such a gathering, with anyone else who wished to make their views known doing so through one of their representatives. In practice, Farazin had let everyone have their say. The two main protagonists now faced each other across the open space where the boy sat.

  'This is a child,' Kerin stated. 'A sick child. Will taking revenge on a defenceless innocent reverse any of our losses?' 'How can you say he's innocent?' Cutter demanded. 'Ever since he arrived here it's been one thing after another. Our children have been exposed to alien fevers. There have been more accidents in the river. We've had nothing but poor finds in spite of the winter rains. And how can you deny what happened today?' 'That was an act of nature—'

  'If it was a natural event, then why wasn't Farazin able to predict it?' Mitus cut in.

  'The moons are not the only factor in—' the sky-watcher began, but Cutter was in full flow now, and overrode him easily.

  'Who but a sorcerer could survive in the forbidden waters of Anador?' he asked. 'Who but a sorcerer would speak in such a barbarous tongue? And who but a sorcerer could conjure forth an earthquake to save himself from our vengeance, and kill the girl he had infected?'

  'He conjured nothing,' Kerin insisted, but he could feel that the majority of the onlookers had begun to side with his opponent.

  'You all saw him!' Cutter cried, appealing to the crowd. waving his arms and yelling in that evil tongue. What else could he have been doing?'

  'He could have been trying to warn us,' Ysatel said. That had been her belief right from the start, and it persisted - even though she could prove nothing and, even though on the face of it the idea seemed absurd.

  'Ah, so he's a wolf-fish now, is he?' Cutter remarked scornfully, provoking laughter and a few cries of derision. 'If he knew the tremor was coming, then it proves he's a sorcerer - and makes it all the more likely that he was the cause of it too.' He seemed quite happy with this circular argument, and fell silent for the moment.

  Knowing that she should not have spoken, Ysatel glanced at her husband, hoping that he would support her even so. Kerin would not look at her, but kept his gaze fixed upon Cutter, his expression grave. Neither man was willing to give ground, but no one else was prepared to enter the argument at this stage, and so the silence dragged on.

  It was eventually broken by the subject of their debate himself.

  The boy spoke quietly, in a rasping voice, and to an unbiased ear his tone would have seemed anything but threatening. In fact, to Ysatel it sounded more like a plea f
or understanding, but many of those present reacted with fear, seeming to think that he was casting another spell. The seeds of doubt sown by Cutter had taken root.

  'Shut him up!' Mitus shouted. 'Or I'll get Scar to do it permanently.'

  At the sound of his name, the dog rose from his haunches and growled, his small black eyes fixed upon the stranger. In response, two people moved forward into the arena. Ysatel went to kneel beside the boy, putting a finger to her lips to motion him to silence. He looked at her in bemusement, but obeyed. The second person was Olandis, who strode forward, shaking off his father's attempt to restrain him, and glared at Cutter.

  'You would set a dog on a defenceless child?' he said accusingly, his rage and scorn obvious to all.

  'He may not be so defenceless,' Cutter replied. 'And if Scar has to tear your throat out to get to his, then he'll do it.'

  'Go ahead then, let him try,' Olandis said, drawing a knife from his belt.

  The dog had taken a couple of paces forward, without any order being given. He snarled, baring predator's teeth, and switched his attention to his master's latest foe. 'You're no match for—' Cutter began, smiling nastily. 'Enough!'

  The sky-watcher's usually frail voice was raised to a roar of outrage that shocked everyone there into silence. 'This has gone far enough,' Farazin went on. 'There is no need for violence. We simply have to decide what should be done with the boy.'

  'For myself,' Cutter responded immediately, 'I'd like to see him dead, but failing that, let him be cast back into the tainted waters he came from. He's not wanted here.'

  There were mutterings of agreement from some of the onlookers, until Kerin looked around, shaming them into silence.

  'Nothing need be done,' he said. 'The boy will stay with me. I'll take responsibility for him.'

  'Then you take responsibility for the next disaster too!' Cutter declared.

  'The next deaths!'

  'They were no more his fault than yours,' Kerin responded.

  'Enough!' Farazin admonished them again, then turned to look over the entire group. 'You've heard the options. Are you content to let the elders decide our course, or is it to be put to a vote of all the people?'

  For a few moments no one spoke, then Kerin stepped forward to stand next to Olandis.

  'I will accept neither,' he stated bluntly. 'I will not condone murder, regardless of who votes on it. If you won't allow the boy to stay, then I'll take him away. My family will leave Fenduca.'

  Still kneeling beside her patient, Ysatel felt her heart swell. She was not aware that Aylen was now standing beside her until he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. They were together in this.

  The resentful muttering that had been provoked by Kerin's first denial had changed character when he threatened to leave the village. He was the settlement's founder, the first man to have set foot on the black mountain after it had emerged from the depths of the planet, and the first to defend the rights of the people of Fenduca when

  the upper slopes had been cordoned off. As such he was a hero to many, a talismanic figure, and almost everyone there would feel diminished by his absence. The fact that he felt strongly enough to defy the elders and to make such a threat, to condemn his own family to exile for the sake of the foreigner, swayed many of those around him - as he had hoped it would.

  Unfortunately, the only effect upon Cutter was to make him even more belligerent.

  'You would deny the elders, the rest of our village?' he exclaimed. 'Such arrogance is beyond belief.'

  'No vote has yet been taken,' Kerin pointed out calmly.

  'There can be no vote!' Cutter shouted. 'You've seen to that. Now there can be only justice.' Before anyone could react, he hissed a command to his dog and pointed to the stranger.

  Scar leapt forward, his bared fangs and a low-throated growl announcing his attack. Olandis, who had sheathed his blade again when his father came up beside him, was the only one close enough to get between the dog and his prey, and he threw himself into the hound's path. The two of them went down in a snarling heap as Ysatel screamed. Scar's fearsome teeth ripped a long tear in Olandis's forearm, and the dog easily broke from his grasp. As the young man lay bleeding on the ground, Scar bounded on, ready for his next victim. Ysatel tried to shield the boy but was dragged away, protesting, by Aylen, who knew his stepmother was no match for such bestial fury. Everyone else was frozen in horror.

  The stranger did not seem to understand the danger he was in, for he made no move to defend himself, and the outcome seemed inevitable. Scar pounced, landing heavily on the boy's chest and shoving him to the ground.

  Murderous jaws closed on his exposed neck as Cutter crowed in triumph, and many looked away, not wanting to witness the carnage.

  It was a few moments before anyone realized what was happening - and when they did they were stunned into silent amazement. Far from tearing out the foreigner's throat, Scar was licking his face happily, while the boy himself was laughing, his expression one of pure joy.

  Chapter Six

  If I'd known you'd crossed the moat, I'd've looked outside the palace sooner.

  The words sounded silently in Terrel's head. As was often the case, Alyssa's initial statement was enigmatic to say the least, but he did not mind at all.

  Just hearing her voice was enough.

  Alyssa! he exclaimed, laughing.

  You taste odd, she remarked.

  I thought I'd never see you again.

  You're not exactly seeing me, are you? Just this brute I've borrowed.

  You know what I mean.

  The dog stopped licking Terrel's face then, and raised its head to look around. Its forepaws were still planted heavily on his chest.

  What's going on?

  I don't really know, Terrel replied.

  For the past few moments he had been oblivious to what was happening around him, knowing only that -against all the odds - Alyssa had found him again.

  Now, as he joined her in looking at the frozen scene, he tried to make what sense he could of it. When he had woken and found himself outside, once more the focus of attention of a large number of people, he'd thought at first that he'd returned to the same gathering. Then he had realized it was now late afternoon, not morning, and recalled his time alone in the hut. He'd remembered trying to warn them about the tremor and, glancing about him, had seen the signs of the destruction that had evidently followed. It was no wonder that the mood of the villagers seemed to be one of anger and dismay, but he hadn't been able to work out why some of their hostile feelings seemed to be directed towards him. Far from being grateful that he'd tried to raise the alarm, it seemed as if he were being blamed for something. Feeling dis-illusioned, Terrel had tried to explain, but his words had been met with only blank incomprehension - and some onlookers had even flinched, as though they were afraid of him.

  Then there had been some sort of confrontation, and the dog had attacked one of Terrel's rescuers before turning its attention to the boy himself. He had been too stunned to be afraid, and then - miraculously - Alyssa had been standing over him, her special madness glinting in the dog's eyes.

  He was about to try to explain all this to her when she turned away to face the large man who had been the most vociferous and antagonistic of all. He held a dagger in his hand now, and was bearing down upon Terrel with murderous intent in his eyes.

  I don't like the look of him, Alyssa said quietly. She fixed the would-be attacker with her black gaze and growled.

  The man came to a halt, his expression changing from one of fury to incredulity. He said something Terrel could not understand and Alyssa barked in response, moving forward a little and baring her fangs to make her intention even more plain.

  This one I know about, she told Terrel. For the rest you 'd better tell me which are friends and which are foes.

  He's the only one you need worry about, he replied. Keep him away and the rest will take care of itself

  Cutter's disbelief was turning back to rag
e again. To be thwarted by his own dog was not only incredible, it was humiliating.

  'What's got into you, Scar? Get out of my way.'

  The creature's only reaction was to snarl again and edge forward slightly.

  'Kill him!' Cutter repeated, pointing at the foreigner. 'Kill!'

  The hound ignored the command and stood its ground.

  When Cutter had drawn his knife and stepped into the arena, some of those nearby had made half-hearted attempts to restrain him. He had shrugged them aside, only to be faced with more determined opposition from his own dog. The onlookers made no further attempts to intervene, and watched the stand-off between Scar and his master in amazement.

  'Then get away and let me do the job myself!' Cutter shouted, slicing the air with his dagger.

  The hound did not move, but growled again, and Cutter reluctantly took a step back, admitting defeat. The look on his face defied description.

  'He's put a spell on the dog,' he declared abruptly. 'This is proof he's a sorcerer!'

  'It's proof your dog has better sense than you do,' Ysatel retorted. 'He can see there's no harm in the boy.' She shrugged off Aylen's grasp and went to tend to Olandis, who was still sitting on the ground, clutching his wounded arm.