Determined to put it out of her mind, Asta spurred her yithhe forward into a muddy section of the trail--but immediately she and her beast sank into a mud-pit. As the yithhe struggled to get out Asta fell off. She managed to scream before she hit the mud. Flailing her arms around, she tried to get hold of the yithhe's harness but failed. Then the yithhe made it out of the bog and stood there, looking down at her.
She slipped under, dragged down by her movement. She panicked. Asta wasn't a swimmer and the others were ahead--out of sight. Frantically she tried to break up to the surface again. But the mud was thick and slimy. She soon had no idea which way was up. She stopped moving. She opened her eyes and the mud stung her. She convulsed, blinded and terrified.
Starved for air, she picked a direction and tried to swim, searching frantically for the surface, but to no avail. A wave of dizziness passed over her. She'd pass out, then it would be over. She would die here. The thought stunned her and she stopped struggling. Dizziness came over her again.
The earth had caught her. Funny, in a way. She had arranged to betray the Garrans and their gods. Now the gods had their revenge--they had reached up and grabbed her and pulled her into the earth to deal out retribution. This fearful thought was overwhelming. She could not dispel the image of an angry god from her mind--watching her, as she drowned. Mocking her.
You betray us; we will betray you.
You kill us, we will kill you.
Asta opened her mouth to scream and darkness overcame her.
They knew. The gods knew what she was planning.
^ ^ ^ ^ *
When Asta regained her senses, her ragged breath let her know she was free of the mud pit. She opened her eyes and saw Moorhen bending over her. He must have pulled her out. She coughed terribly. He brought her a drink of water. He was filthy from head to foot as was she. He had wiped off her face and hands, somewhat.
Moorhen grinned at her. "Feeling better?" She couldn't tell if he was being friendly or emphasizing her carelessness with that smug grin. She felt angry at him even though she should have been grateful.
"Yes," she said more coldly than she meant to. She struggled to get up off the ground but her clothes were wet and sticky; she stumbled and fell again, destroying any dignity she had left.
Moorhen was at her side immediately. "Careful," he said. "You're lucky to be alive." He wasn't grinning now but his eyes were still laughing at her. Was she angry at him because, under it all, she found him handsome? Or because she owed him her life, thereby making it harder to sacrifice his?
Asta managed to stand without taking the hand he offered. "I'll be fine," she said. She felt a lot less steady than she tried to portray. Her head still felt quite woozy. She and Moorhen both cleaned up as best they could. No wonder Garrans were always so filthy. She mounted her yithhe and set out after the others; Moorhen followed, taking the rear.
Almost she laughed at her delirium while drowning … imagining the voice of the gods.
That night when they stopped for camp, Asta took some clean clothes from her pack. "I'm going to wash up," she said. "I'll be back." She slipped off through the bushes which were almost the size of trees. They had strange, rubbery like branches and the undergrowth was thick. Small pools of water were as abundant in this marsh, as were the bugs. But she'd decided to risk the bugs for a bath.
She found a pool easily enough and had begun to undress when Moorhen caught up with her. "Be careful of mud-pits," he said good-naturedly, and she assumed this was his idea of humor. He began undressing as well. "I need a bath too, after this morning."
"What--?" she stared at him in shock and then remembered that the Garrans had no social embarrassment about nudity. He stopped undressing and gave her an odd stare. Only a Chanden woman would object to this, she thought quickly. "What makes you think I can't take care of myself?" she asked. Reluctantly, she continued to undress. To display embarrassment would give herself away.
Moorhen gave her that annoying smile, as if thinking back on this morning, but said nothing. She was really starting to hate this one. Did he just want to see her naked or was he really concerned for her safety? Quickly she finished undressing and slipped into the water, glad at last of a little modesty.
He, on the other hand, continued undressing casually and Asta found it very distracting. She hadn't thought him particularly strong but all the Garrans were well-built and even those who weren't warriors were as athletic as the best Chanden. Moorhen's body certainly wasn't difficult to look at. She focused carefully on scrubbing her own body.
Soon Moorhen jumped in the water, causing waves. He smiled at Asta as he washed. She knew that in Garran customs a bath with the opposite sex meant nothing. She hoped that that were true. Once clean, Asta got out and quickly dried off and dressed in her clean clothes. Then she began washing out her dirty clothes, and her belt pouch.
Moorhen continued swimming in the pool and watching her. She turned her attention to her own tasks. As she opened her pouch to clean out the mud, she stopped. The comset was missing. She panicked. It must have fallen out in the mud-pit, miles back. Without it, she couldn't make her daily signal and let them know she was all right.
They'd assume she was in danger if she didn't make contact and send in agents after her. She still had the internal locator device tracking her. She wasn't sure that they'd find the godstone here or if they were following another "clue." The operation could be spoiled.
Also, if Ruben thought she was in danger, he would probably come in shooting. She could be endangering these people.
Moorhen got out of the water and dried off, sitting there naked a moment more as he washed his one pair of clothes and put them on wet. He didn't deserve to die, even if he was annoying.
She felt badly for brushing him off earlier, when he'd tried to talk to her.
"I didn't mean to be rude earlier," she said. "My tribe is the Shing River Clan," she lied. "I grew up near Noloon."
He smiled and moved closer, sitting on the rock opposite her. "I've never been there. What's it like?"
She paused. It wasn't something she'd thought about for her cover story. "Dry," she said.
At this, Moorhen laughed. She laughed too. "Yes, ours is the same. Dust, sand, spider shrubs."
"You have family there?" he asked.
She felt a panic, trying to remember her story. "No. My mother was killed when I was young." Her voice caught a little. That part was true.
"By the Chanden?" he asked.
Killed by Garrans, but she didn't say that. Instead she said nothing and let him assume it. Moorhen touched her arm. "I'm sorry," he said gently. His words were so sincere that she teared up, thinking of her mother. She missed her so much. If only they had never come here--but her father had insisted.
She wiped the tears from her eyes. "My aunt took me to Urrlan and raised me there."
"You have no brothers or sisters?" he asked.
"No."
"I'm sorry," he said.
She found it odd that he thought that was sad. She had never missed having siblings. She didn't mind being alone.
She finished up her washing and Moorhen followed her back to camp.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
During the next day the group traveled closer to the sea. Sindke said that they should reach it by nightfall. The land became more solid. It relieved Asta to learn they were through the marsh.
Moorhen was never far from Asta but not too close either, as though he had appointed himself her guardian somehow. They said little, but Asta found it comforting to know he was there. Occasionally they smiled at each other. But then she remembered that this assignment might not end well and she was determined not to let Moorhen influence her. She had a job to do.
For a year she'd worked as an Enforcer, hoping to get into the Stealth Unit, and now she had. She'd had no time for relationships. Or was that true? She just didn't want anything to come between her and her goals. Is that why she pushed Ruben away? Was she afraid a boyfriend wou
ld be an unwanted distraction?
She felt lonely, maybe for the first time in a long time. Riding now alongside Moorhen, she realized that. She'd always felt that she didn't need anyone and that she was fine on her own. But it wasn't true. The thought made her even more angry at Moorhen who wouldn't stop smiling and treating her more politely than a Garran should. The Garrans were the enemy, especially those in rebellion to the Chanden High Realm.
If Ruben didn't kill Moorhen, he would probably be arrested for his part in this expedition.
Towards midday they came on a terrible sight that made them stop. Miles and miles of burned land. It shocked the senses to come out of that riot of green into an almost endless patch of black. Asta was as horrified as the rest of them.
Before any of them spoke, she knew what had happened here. Garran plants contained an irritant, something not compatible with Chanden plants. In order to plant crops, the Chanden burned acres of land to clear it. She had no idea the great empty place it left on the countryside.
"The Chanden did this," spat Jarvaine. "The bastards should die!"
Sindke raised her hand to silence him.
"How can they do such a thing?" asked Moorhen, his eyes full of disbelief. Asta felt ashamed. She wanted to explain but couldn't. And even to herself now the explanation seemed weak. Chanden preferred Chanden food so they destroyed the local ecology in favor of a new set of plants--foreign plants. Chanden arrogance again. The Garrans weren't fools; they knew the wrongs the Chanden committed.
They continued towards the sea through the endless black hills. Death. Darkness. Was this the Chanden legacy? It weighed heavily on her mind--the casualness which they destroyed--and so near a place sacred to the Garrans.
^ ^ ^ ^ *
In the early evening they came upon a small farm. Here the land had been converted to Chanden crops (food that Asta highly preferred to the bland Garran vegetables). They stopped while Jarvaine and Draiha scouted ahead. Stalking this farm made her nervous and Asta hoped that no violence broke out between their group and the Garrans. If it came to a fight, Asta didn't want to have to attack her own people in order to keep her cover. The thought ate at her.
Moorhen sensed her uneasiness and glanced at her but she avoided his eyes, hoping not to draw attention to herself right now.
Soon the others signaled a come-ahead and Asta followed the others forward, with trepidation. As they approached the main complex Asta saw the bodies strewn about--Chanden farmers. Dead. She was shocked and stopped her yithhe to stare at them.
Jarvaine and Draiha met them there. "Dead--all of them," he said. "And good riddance. The less of them here the better." He spat.
"They've been dead a day, maybe," said Draiha. "No evidence as to who did it."
"White Storm Clan--I'd lay a bet on it." said Jarvaine, "I say we kill any Chanden we find."
Asta held her tongue, though she wanted to speak out. To her surprise, Moorhen did it for her. "That would be foolish," he said. "To what end?"
"They deserve it!" shouted Jarvaine. "You saw what they did!"
"They've done worse than this," said Sindke quietly.
"Killing them doesn't solve things," argued Moorhen, "it only makes it worse. They're too strong. We can't fight them."
"Not until we get the godstone," said Jarvaine. "Then--they will pay."
Moorhen said nothing but didn't looked at all convinced. Was he the only sane one among them? Asta shivered. But she understood their anger at the burning of the plants. There was a terrible wrongness to it that she couldn't rationally explain.
The group traveled the rest of the evening in silence, for which Asta was glad. They found a spot to camp and set up a watch.
Asta curled up and, though worried, finally fell asleep. But her dreams were troubled and in them she stood in a wide, ash-filled field and walked. On and on Asta trudged, until she came to the sea.
No shore graced the sea, only high cliff walls upon which the angry sea threw itself continually. On the cliff a moonstone pylon, made by the gods, towered over the landscape. Towards this, Asta walked.
She stood there on the edge of the cliff.
The sea churned below the stormy sky. Asta could feel its anger and understood it. She felt the strength of spirit of the sea, and it spoke to her in words she couldn't quite make out. Images came to her mind: fire, brimstone, craggy rocks, a tall rounded mountain.
Beneath the water lay an ancient city. Almost she could see the people that once inhabited it, could hear a music full of mystery. Whisperings.
If she could get closer ….
^ ^ ^ ^ *
Something jolted her out of the dream, as though she'd been hit by something. She struggled awake to find herself laying on her back on the hard rock. Moorhen lay on top of her. She cried out and tried to get up but he held her down, restraining her wrists.
“Moorhen!” she shrieked, struggling against his hold.
She'd kill him! If only she could reach her knife. Again she tried to break his grip, but he held her fast. What was he thinking!
"Get off!" she yelled. At this, he released her and got up, freeing her.
Quickly she sat up, embarrassed at this impropriety. Then as her senses returned, she realized she really was on the cliff near the pylon. All the others stood around her.
"You should not have done that!" said Sindke, angry.
"She would have thrown herself off the cliff!" argued Moorhen. Asta struggled to her feet, still trying to grasp the situation.
"I think not," said Sindke. "Now the dream is broken."
Asta stared around at them. She had done it again--the sleepwalking and they had let her. Had followed her. "What--?" she asked.
"I'm sorry," said Moorhen, partly to her, for wrestling her to the ground, and partly to them.
"What is going on?" she demanded.
"You have led us to the god-tower but we have yet to discover the meaning of it or where the godstone is," said Sindke.
"Well, I don't know!" said Asta. But none of them believed her. Anyway, how had she led them here? She felt a little dizziness. Moorhen reached out to steady her.
"She's worn out," he said. "Shouldn't we rest now?"
They had walked all night to the sea, following her. Asta, feeling a little more steady now, walked back near the edge of the cliff and looked out at the sea. It looked as it did in the dream--stormy, mysterious, angry. And she could see towers sticking up out of the water. A submerged city in the distance. The dream had been true.
Almost she could hear its voice but now it was muffled and fading. The images were gone.
Sindke watched her closely.
"What is this place?" asked Asta.
"It is called Maerreth," said Sindke. "An ancient Borrai city--destroyed a hundred years ago by the Chanden.
The name sounded familiar. She had heard the name before--the underwater city of the gods.
"Is the godstone here?" asked Sindke.
"No," said Asta, surprised at her answer. Then feeling more sure. "No, it isn't."
The others exchanged glances. "Then where?" demanded Jarvaine.
Asta walked back to the moonstone pylon. There were two symbols on it, neither of them Asta could read. "What does it say?"
"Fire and earth," said Sindke.
"Fire and earth?" echoed Asta.
"What does that mean?" asked Moorhen.
"It's a place," said Asta. "Fire and earth. It's where the godstone is hidden."
"Fire and earth?" asked Jarvaine, dubious.
"Some sort of mountain," said Asta.
"The Northern Cones?" asked Sindke. "Yes, the mountains are strong in stone there. Akannus, the earth god. That is his domain. The stone would be there." She looked to Asta for confirmation.
"Yes," Asta said slowly. "A large rounded mountain of fire."
"Then that's where we'll go," said Sindke.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
They traveled southeast, gradually leaving behind the green l
and of the northwest. After days of traveling, they found their way back to the desert.
Moorhen still harbored some embarrassment at having wrestled the woman, Asta, to the ground. It grieved him that he'd angered her. They had followed her all the way to the edge of the cliff at the edge of the sea. The gods had led her there in her sleep, though even she didn’t seem aware of it.
Even now, as they rode through the harsh desert, Asta seemed worried about something. Preoccupied. She stayed aloof as usual, but Moorhen caught her glancing at him every now and then as though curious about him. This surprised him. She had an elegance about her and a disdain.
He guessed that her family was either well-off or was one of the higher clans, the way she acted. Her interest in him seemed out of character. But there was a loneliness about her that Moorhen felt drawn to fill. It didn't seem right that she be allowed to confine herself to continual solitude.
She was beautiful, her hair, her body. Their night bathing together at the pool was a pleasant memory. She had delicate lips and a pale face, but she herself was not always delicate. In battle she could be fierce and he admired her. Her strange fits of sleepwalking were disturbing and again he felt she needed to be protected … even against herself at times.
Overall, she was a mystery. Maybe that's why Moorhen spent so much time thinking about her and her oddities.
Moorhen was drawn out of his reverie a by small movement on the horizon. He'd seen this earlier, while they traversed the marshes but now they were in the desert there was less cover. He stopped his yithhe and looked carefully across the horizon. It had vanished, but something was there, behind them.
Concerned, he spurred his yithhe and rode up to the front to Sindke.
"I saw something," said Moorhen. "I think we're being followed."
"Followed?" asked Sindke. Everyone's eyes immediately went to the horizon. But there was no movement.
The Gods of Garran Page 15