Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law

by Southwell, T C

  She stroked the boy's head while Law explored her with his hands, sniffing her. "He looks about thirteen years old."

  "Uh uh." Vosh shook his head, leaning over the pot to sample her stew. "He reckons he's a month or so old."

  If Letta was disappointed, she hid it well. "Then he's going to grow up pretty quick."

  "Yeah, too bad, he's cute now."

  The boy, who stood shoulder height to her, sniffed her stew's aroma and reached for the pot. Letta leapt to hold him back.

  "No, that's hot!" She pushed him into a chair. "Hot. You understand? It will hurt you."

  Law nodded, looking confused, and rubbed his stomach. "Hungry."

  "Oh, the poor thing's starving," Letta exclaimed, snatching up a loaf of bread and a bowl of dripping. As fast as she sliced and spread, Law consumed the food with sharp white teeth. Vosh watched in amazement.

  "I must have been right, his mother was a caterpillar."

  Letta started on a new loaf, spreading it this time with stew. "Impossible. He's just hungry, that's all."

  When Law sat back with a burp, replete, Letta beamed at him, an expression he did not see, or react to. Realising this with a pang of sadness, she dished up food for Vosh and sat gazing at the boy with motherly eyes.

  "I could wash and brush him. Maybe we should cut off that hair and see what he looks like underneath."

  Vosh glanced up from his stew. "He's not dirty, but he's got seeds stuck all over him."

  "You never know," Letta mused, "he might look quite Trueman without all that hair."

  Vosh smiled, glad that she was happy with the child he had found for her, the next best thing to one of her own. Letta's barrenness had saved her in the semi-ant's nest, where the other women who had been brought there had died giving birth to crossbreeds. Now only a dozen men remained, and Vosh had established himself as their leader by dint of brawn and a willingness to use it. Letta was his prize, won after several brawls with challengers. His greatest wish was to make her happy, and if Law did that, the boy was welcome in his home.

  Chapter Eight

  Talsy sat on the mossy stones of a stream bank, trailing one hand in the icy water. For two days the chosen had rested in the comparative idyll of the Kuran's haven, safe from the sickness of the land outside and the threat of chaos beasts. Chanter had taken up the burden of carrying her and transformed himself into a blue-eyed black stallion, to the Aggapae's amazement and wonder. After Chanter had done his best to refute that he was the god of horses, at the end of which the Aggapae had still looked unconvinced, the Mujar had led the party deep into the heart of the forest, and they had reached this sanctuary. The Kuran was too shy to appear, and Chanter did not push the issue, maintaining that her coming to him and concentrating her power to become visible would threaten her domain.

  At last, Talsy had made up her mind and asked Chanter to meet her in this sun-dappled glade filled with bracken and bird song. A perfect place to conceive a perfect child. She smiled as she riffled the water with her fingers, already contemplating a name for the child. She hoped for a boy, but a girl would be just as nice. Talsy looked up as Chanter stepped into the glade, his eyes scanning it before he smiled at her.

  "You wanted to talk to me?"

  She nodded, turning from the stream and hugging her knees. "Come and sit down."

  The Mujar settled on the thick mat of bracken, gazing at her. "Is something wrong?"

  "No. I have a Wish."

  "Wish," he granted.

  "I want to have a child."

  His eyes flicked away to study the stream. "That's perfectly natural for a girl your age, I think. But don't Lowmen get married first?"

  "We don't have to."

  "I know that Kieran feels a lot for you, but perhaps you should wait until this quest is over. A child would be a burden, especially once it's born. Lowmen children are so helpless." He looked at her and cocked his head. "But you don't need a Wish for that, Kieran will be willing, I'm certain. What's the Wish?"

  Talsy shook her head, wondering if he was being deliberately obtuse. His assumption as to the identity of the potential father annoyed her, as did his lack of reaction to the announcement. "You know it's not Kieran's child I want, it's yours. That's my Wish."

  He looked away, frowning. "No."

  "You said you'd grant my wishes, and you owe me."

  Chanter stared at the trees, his expression distant. "I can't grant this one. Ask anything else."

  "This is what I want more than anything. Grant me this, and I'll never ask for another."

  "No." The Mujar rose to his feet, but Talsy jumped up as he turned away, gripping his wrist. He stared over her head as she pleaded, "I know why you don't want to, but I know it would be a beautiful child."

  When he ignored her, she tugged at his arm, desperate to get his attention. "Listen to me! I love you, you damned Mujar, but everyone tells me you won't stay, you'll leave for months on end, living in the wilds, because you are wild. I don't want to chain you, but you know how lonely I get without you. You stay with me because I need protection, but once the Staff of Law is restored and the gathering is over, you'll be away a lot, won't you?"

  He turned his head, looking down, and she hurried on, "Give me something I can keep, a child to love, who's yours and mine and won't turn into a bird and fly away whenever he feels like it. Is that too much to ask?"

  Chanter raised his eyes to her face and cupped her cheek. "I would do anything else for you, but this is forbidden. Can't you understand that? Our races are too different. We're not even remotely the same. We're from different worlds; the children of different gods."

  "I don't care! You can't be so cruel as to deny me some comfort when you're gone."

  "I'll always return to you, my little clan. I told you that. You'll never lose me."

  "But you won't stay. You can't! Your wild heart will long for freedom, and if I deny you that by trapping you with a Wish, you wouldn't be happy, would you?"

  He sighed, shifting as if eager to escape the mere thought of being trapped. "Rather that than what you want. That Wish I would grant you."

  "And I love you for that, but I've seen what happens to you. When you go into the wild, you're full of life and joy. When you stay with me, like in the valley, you sleep all day and pace about all night like a caged animal. I don't want that. I love you too much to put you in a cage. This way you could have your freedom, because while you're away, I would have our child to love and care for."

  "No."

  "Yes." She blinked away tears. "The gods have given us a way. Perhaps this is meant to happen."

  "No. The gods didn't make this happen, I did."

  She raised her chin. "I will have this child."

  "How?"

  Her hand crept to the thongs that laced her bodice, and his eyes followed it. He shook his head. "You can't seduce me."

  "You don't find me attractive?"

  "I do, but I'm Mujar."

  "Mujar have lain with women." Her fingers tugged at the laces.

  "As a Wish, when conception was impossible. Not now."

  "Would you have granted me that Wish?"

  He nodded. "Reluctantly."

  "Why reluctantly?"

  "Because Kieran loves you, and he's the one you should be interested in."

  "Well I'm not." She scowled at him. "Don't throw Kieran in my face, it won't work."

  "Stop this now." He tried to free his wrist from her grasp. "You'll only embarrass yourself if you continue. It won't work."

  "Yes it will." Talsy took out the little bottle, hiding it in her hand so he would not see the gleam of blue within it. She uncorked it with her teeth and held it towards him.

  Chanter's nostril's flared and his eyes glazed, becoming blank. She smelt nothing, but he clearly did, and it had an instant and profound effect on him. A frisson of fear marched up her spine at his impassive expression. He stared through her as if blind, then tugged at the ties that bound his tunic and stripped it off. Tal
sy removed her bodice, excited and a little afraid. Mujar had lain with women before, she reassured herself, so there should be nothing to fear, except that he was under the influence of the Ishmak plant's scent.

  When she was as naked as he, she embraced him and pressed against him, tugging him down onto the soft bed of bracken. She had lain with a couple of clumsy Trueman boys that lived in her village long ago, so she knew what to do. He followed her lead like an automaton, forcing her to guide his hands. Still, he only did as she wished, remaining passive, but compliant. His silence troubled her, as did his lack of response to her kisses. Nevertheless, she persevered until finally he pulled her into his arms.

  When he appeared to fall asleep, much later, Talsy closed her eyes with a smile of satisfaction in the intense afterglow of such an abundance of ecstasy. Now she understood why women had taken Mujar lovers and toiled to gain their attentions, while men reviled them for it. As with everything else, no Trueman would ever be able to compete with a Mujar lover.

  Chanter's lack of affection was somewhat disappointing, but had not detracted from the experience much. She stoppered the little bottle and hid it in the leaves, hoping she would be able to use it many more times. Filled with a warm glow, she cuddled up to him and fell asleep.

  Chanter woke with a start, sat up and glanced around, then down at the girl beside him. His limbs seemed to be made of lead and his mouth was dry. The sensations were almost identical to those he had experience after his visit to the Ishmak plant, and he groaned and rubbed his face as memories rushed back. Rising to his feet, he reeled down to the stream and waded in to wash, horrified that he had performed a forbidden act, albeit unwillingly

  Dragging on his clothes, he hunted amongst hers, then the leaves, for the plant fragment she had used. Talsy sighed and reached for him on the bracken bed beside her, then relaxed without waking. He found no trace of the bottle he had glimpsed in her hand at the outset, and eventually gave up and retreated to a rock beside the stream to stare into the water. What had happened appalled him, and, since she had planned the encounter, he doubted that there was any possibility that she had not conceived.

  The memory of their time together reminded him of the women in the hill clan who had earned a Wish to lie with him. His time with the Ishmak plant had not been his first experience of lust. This time had been quite different, however, since he had been under the influence of the Ishmak plant's scent. He wondered how he had known what to do, in that state. Certainly it had not been natural for him, so the knowledge must have come from the place where the information about Trueman animal forms and the like resided. God-given wisdom, he mused, that had certainly not been intended for this time, when the lack of law would allow the forbidden to happen.

  The sun had moved far across the sky when Talsy opened her eyes. She watched it twinkling through the leaves, then became aware that Chanter no longer lay beside her. Sitting up, she brushed the bracken from her hair. The Mujar sat on a rock beside the stream, staring into the water as if he would solve some mystery there. As she pulled on her tunic, he raised his head, then quit his rock to come over and kneel beside her. Smiling, she pulled him down into the soft bracken beside her.

  "Let's do it again."

  "No." He pushed her away and sat up, frowning.

  She sighed, lacing up her tunic. "I'm sorry I tricked you. Are you angry?"

  Chanter shook his head and stared across the glade with an expression of deep despair. Alarmed, she sat up and slipped her hand into his. "What's wrong?"

  "Where did you get that?"

  "From an old woman in the city where I went to get supplies. Why?"

  "Did she know what it was?"

  Talsy shrugged. "Part of a big flower some Truemen found."

  "Did she know that it would work on me?"

  "No, she wasn't sure, but I was."

  The Mujar relaxed a little, his shoulders slumping. "You saw me go to the flower on the plains. Did you tell her?"

  "No." She smiled. "I thought it must be a big Mujar secret."

  "It is."

  Chanter continued to gaze into space, and she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. He said, "I can't even offer you Regret, because you tricked me."

  "Regret? I'm happy, silly. You have nothing to regret. I tricked you, so I guess it's me who should have regret." She giggled, drunk with happiness. "But I don't. I got what I wanted."

  Chanter pulled her arms from his neck and turned to her, his expression serious. "What you might have tricked me into giving you will kill you."

  Her smile faded, and she shook her head. "Don't try to frighten me now. It's too late for that."

  "Maybe, but I fervently hope not. If I'm the cause of your death, I shall be desolate."

  "I'm not going to die!"

  "I hope not," he repeated. "I hope this fails, and if it doesn't, I hope you survive, but I doubt it."

  Talsy tried to pull away. "You're as bad as Kieran. He said the child would be a monster, but it won't!"

  "I'm not saying it will be a monster. I'm saying that if you've conceived you will die. Listen to me. It doesn't matter what I tell you now, the world is dying anyway. There's no such thing as a Mujar infant, not outside his pod. Our gestation is two years, and we emerge almost fully grown. It takes all the energy of a plant over five miles in diameter to nourish a Mujar foetus."

  "My child will be half Trueman."

  "Yes." He shook his head. "But he will also be half Mujar. Even if his needs are only half that of a pure Mujar, your frail body can never hope to nourish him. Why did you do such a stupid thing? I refused your Wish. Why did you trick me? Had I known what you planned to do, I would have told you this. But I never thought you would drug me, or that you had the one thing in this world that could."

  She freed her hands and twisted them together. "It wouldn't have changed my mind. It won't kill me. I don't care what you say."

  "You foolish, foolish girl," he murmured without rancour. "You dream of a bouncing baby you can dandle on your knee and nurse at your breast. But for that you should have asked Kieran, not me. Mujar have no need of parents. We're independent and undying from the moment we emerge from the pod. Young Mujar are dangerous, ferocious creatures. The first thing we do is eat the plant that gave us life. I tried to tell you, our races are utterly different, almost complete opposites."

  "A child won't kill its mother, especially one that's half Mujar. You don't kill, how can your child?"

  "Young Mujar can and sometimes do kill without meaning to, before they develop the aversion to it that adults have."

  Talsy shook her head. "No, he'll be beautiful and perfect, born like a Trueman, but with teeth that won't rot before he's thirty and a gentle, loving nature. You're right, Truemen are savage, bloodthirsty people who slay innocent beasts for sport and ravage the land to build their ugly cities. Our child will love this world and all who live in it. He'll teach Truemen how to live in harmony with it. He'll set an example of goodness and strength for all to follow, and start a new breed of perfect people."

  "It's a noble dream, but it can't come true. You can't carry him if you've conceived. You must get rid of him."

  She stared at him, making him look away. "You're telling me to kill it? Your own child?"

  "Yes. When it comes to a choice between your life and his, I choose you. Do it before it's too late."

  "And when will that be?" she demanded.

  "When he becomes undying."

  "How long?"

  He pondered, frowning. "A Mujar becomes undying after twenty moons, four moons before he's born, so it will either be at nine moons, or six, depending on how Mujar he is."

  "It'll be born at nine moons!"

  "No. Maybe after twelve or sixteen, not nine."

  Talsy shook her head. "No woman can carry past nine moons."

  "Exactly. Mujar, even a half breed, were never meant to be carried by a woman."

  "There are doctors. We have medicines to induc
e labour at nine moons if necessary."

  Chanter groaned and rubbed his brow in frustration. "He won't allow it. If he reaches the same stage at nine moons, being a crossbreed, that a purebreed would reach at twenty, he'll be independent and aware. He won't want to be evicted until he's ready, and he'll have the power to stop it."

  "How do you know he'll have power? How do you even know that it'll be a boy?"

  "I'm assuming," Chanter explained, "If he has half of my genes, he will be a boy, and he'll have powers. If, by some miracle, Truemen genes prove stronger, maybe he won't have powers, but he will be a boy, since sex is decided by the father. Mujar provide all the genes for their offspring. The plant gives only a blank egg, you see? We are related to the Ishmak plant. On this world, there is no law dividing plant from animal, all the creatures share both properties."

  "That's why the plant had the same colours as you do!" she exclaimed. "Black, gold and blue."

  "Yes. The Ishmak is the female of my species, and also a symbiote."

  "What's that?"

  "The plant produces its own seeds, future females, you could say. When the young Mujar leaves the flower he carries the seeds with him until they drop off and germinate, thereby dispersing them. The plant has its own male parts that fertilise the seeds, Mujar have nothing to do with that," he added, "although it cannot do so until one arrives. An Ishmak will wait many years for a Mujar to find it."

  Talsy gazed at him, fascinated. "So Mujar females are plant, and males are animal."

  "No, we're both mixed. The Ishmak is more plant, we're more animal."

  "No wonder we couldn't find out where Mujar came from." She frowned. "But the Ishmak is deadly, the old woman told me. How can it kill if it's Mujar?"

  "It's not. Only males are Mujar, the Ishmak is a different species." He sighed. "How can I explain this? It's so alien to you, there isn't a way to explain it that you would understand."