The Temple at Landfall

by Jane Fletcher

  Kim peered over the edge of the shelf. It was too dark to see the water below, but she could hear it roaring though the narrow channel, and other echoes of other torrents in the underground maze of caverns. She guessed that the river had divided, and by the grace of the Goddess, she had been carried away from the main channel to lodge in the cleft. Yet it was still premature to give thanks for her escape; there was no guarantee the fissure would be passable.

  Kim began to squirm her way up the breach in the rock. Soon she was enclosed on all sides, and the ground beneath her had changed from a smooth, polished surface to a gritty incline, covered in loose scree. The passage was narrow, winding, and uneven. In parts it opened into small chambers. In other places, it was barely wide enough for Kim’s shoulders. Once, she had to scrabble with her hands at the chippings of rock before she could continue, but she managed to force her way ever up, and the booming of the raging river faded until she emerged into the open air at the bottom of another crater on the surface of the moor, a much smaller depression than the one she had fallen into, no more than three meters deep, and a similar distance across. The hole was probably slightly off the route the company had taken over the grasslands and too small to attract attention from a distance.

  The final scramble out of the crater presented few problems. Kim pulled herself over the rim and lay at last on the ground in the warm sunshine, with the wind carrying the smell of earth and grass to her, and Celaeno’s sweet blue sky hanging over her. Laughter from pure joy bubbled in her throat.

  A while passed before Kim gathered herself to stand and look around. With shock, she realized barely an hour had elapsed since she had fallen into the river. It had easily felt ten times as long. But the afternoon was drawing on, and the sun was well past its zenith. She shaded her eyes against the glare and looked due west. Maybe fifty meters away was the long scar of the fissure that had claimed her, and beside its rim, she could see the trampled grass and the tracks of a mounted column of soldiers. Of the horses and riders themselves, there was no sign.

  Kim took a deep breath and set off toward the trail.

  *

  The effort to put one foot in front of the other was becoming more and more difficult. Kim stumbled once or twice, but had to keep going. As a Ranger, she was well trained to survive in the wild, but she would require more than the clothes she stood in, especially as even these were torn from the pounding of the river. Her sword belt was no longer where she had left it. Of course, it would have been taken by the other Rangers when they moved on. Her chances would be very poor indeed, alone in the wilderness, without tools, weapons, provisions, or adequate clothing. Even worse than her chances with Rozek, since surely the Guard major would not dare make another such blatant attempt on her life.

  Her only option was to try to catch up with the rest of the company. Normally this should have presented few problems, even though they were mounted and she was on foot. The horses could not be ridden non-stop; they needed a chance to rest and graze. The column would camp well before nightfall and not move on until after dawn. This would allow plenty of time for Kim to overtake them, as long as she could keep walking. But this last proviso was the issue at doubt.

  The effects of adrenaline had worn off hours before, and those of cold and shock set in. The battering by the rocks had left her badly bruised and cut, and the throbbing in knee, hip, and shoulder had increased to the point of agony. The last of the sunshine had partially dried her clothing, but now the chill of evening had set in, and Kim could feel her whole body shaking. She wrapped her arms about herself as she walked, to try to hold back the tremors. The temptation was to stop and rest, but if she sat down and gave in to sleep, there was no saying when she would awake, and she might lose all chance of catching up with the others.

  Dusk had faded into night. The shining crescent of Hardie was starting its journey across the sky. The other moon would not rise for some time. Yet even without small Laurel, there was easily enough light to follow the tracks of a hundred horses across the open moorland. But the contours of the land were changing, becoming more broken and scored by the paths of streams. The line of hoof marks went down into one such gully. Kim followed, taking as much care as she could, but her ankle gave way on the incline, sending her stumbling, to land in a heap at the bottom.

  Once the pain of jarred bones and bruises had faded, it was so seductive, to stay where she lay, but Kim forced herself to her knees. The small stream gurgled over its stony bed nearby. Kim splashed its cold water onto her face. The horse tracks carried on beside the banks of the stream. She stood up, turned to follow, and kept on walking.

  After another fifty meters, the gully opened onto the side of a far deeper valley. Kim stood on the hillside and looked down on the sparsely wooded bottom. The trees were slightly different from those she was familiar with, or maybe they were the same species but growing in a new environment. The issue was not important to her right then. The trampled trail led off, up the valley to the northwest. Kim followed it with her eyes and saw in the distance the faint dots of red firelight, no more than another two kilometers away. Even as the wave of relief washed over her, one corner of Kim’s mouth twisted in a disdainful grimace. The fires would be the Guards cooking their evening meal. No Ranger would advertise her presence so heedlessly with likely bandits about.

  The sight of the camp gave fresh impetus to her footsteps. Kim left the entrance to the gully and began to make her way down the hillside. For the first time in hours, a smile lit her face and her bruises felt less unbearable. But the vegetation was rougher than on the moor, knee-high bushes and brambles that caught her feet, so it was not surprising that Kim tripped again. She fought to keep her balance, but her beaten body was slow to respond, and she tumbled down a steep slope, sliding and rolling, and ending up in a hollow at the foot of a tree.

  This time it was easier to summon the enthusiasm to rise, but even before she could move, Kim heard a twig crack behind her. She froze. This far south, and at this time of year, there was no risk of snow lions, but their smaller cousins, the mountain cats, abounded, and despite their size, they could pose a severe threat, especially to a lone, unarmed woman. Slowly, so as not to provoke an attack, Kim rolled over. But instead of teeth, she was confronted by the sight of three drawn bows, the arrows trained on her heart.

  The archers’ expressions were impossible to read, though their eyes glinted in the moonlight. Kim raised herself on her elbows, still moving very slowly, and returned their steady gaze. For a while no one spoke, but at last Kim raised an eyebrow and said, “Good evening, ladies. Can I assume that you are the bandits?”

  *

  Nearly an hour later, her captors escorted Kim into the bandit camp on horseback. Laurel was just starting to rise. They had skirted the area where the fires had been visible and were now several kilometers to the west, on hills overlooking a wide basin of grassland. The bandit camp was well concealed and they were upon it before Kim realized. Although in her battered state, she was beyond paying close attention to her surroundings. Riding required less effort than walking, but her bruises made themselves felt at every hoof fall, and maintaining her balance in the saddle was awkward with bound hands. By now, even her head was aching, and nausea gripped her stomach.

  Loud shouts greeted their arrival in camp. “Hey, Cloe. We were starting to wonder what had happened to you. Did you come back by the scenic route?”

  “Or did you get lost again?” another voice called.

  “Of course not. We had problems,” one of Kim’s captors retorted, presumably Cloe.

  “Problems?” an older voice spoke sharply, silencing the banter. “What are the Guards doing?”

  “No, it wasn’t with them. They’ve made camp in the valley and look set to cross the plain first thing tomorrow.”

  “Perfect. So what was the problem?”

  “We acquired a prisoner.”

  “Oh? Why did you do that?” The elderly speaker was clearly exasperated.


  “We didn’t mean to. We waited until the Guards had settled and we were sure they weren’t about to break camp and head on. Then we were just about to come back here, when she literally stumbled onto us,” Cloe said apologetically.

  The horses had stopped close by the campfire. In its light, Kim could pick out ten or so women, and most of them were, in turn, watching her. From the tone of the exchanges, the older woman was the leader, and she clearly had no wish whatsoever for a prisoner. To Kim’s mind, this was both good and bad news. The good being that she probably was not going to be questioned to any extent. The bad that it could only be a matter of minutes before her throat was slit. The thought should have been worrying, but Kim was pretty much beyond caring.

  The woman riding beside Kim slipped out of the saddle and continued with the explanation. “We think she’d gotten lost and was trying to rejoin the Guards. But she’s been knocked about a bit, Gina, and not by us. Perhaps you should take a look at her.”

  This was Kim’s cue to dismount, and when she made no attempt to do so, hands pulled her down and dragged her into the light. Kim clenched her teeth as darts of fire shot from her injured limbs, although the handling was firm, rather than rough. A white-haired woman was waiting beside the campfire, evidently the leader who had spoken before. She came forward to stand in front Kim, the few steps revealing the trace of a limp. The infirmity was reflected in one entire side of her body, the corner of her mouth sagged, and while her right eye examined Kim’s face, the left one stared, disconcertingly, over Kim’s shoulder. But despite the lopsided gaze, there was no doubting the intelligence in the face, or the sense of humor, and at last the leader pronounced, “Either you’ve been very unlucky, or someone really doesn’t like you.”

  Kim tried to match the dry tone. “It’s the latter option.”

  “So who doesn’t like you?”

  “The commanding officer.”

  “In which case you should have answered both, since you are clearly unfortunate in your choice of enemy.” The one good eye took in the whole of Kim’s appearance. “But I can’t help wondering exactly what form your commanding officer’s dislike took.”

  “There was a shoe at the edge of one of the holes over the underground river—” Kim was interrupted by an amused outburst from some of those listening. Apparently, the shoe had belonged to someone called Jade, but the leader silenced the quips before Kim could learn more, and signaled to continue. “The major sent me down to pick it up—”

  “Was she really that interested in a shoe?” The leader interrupted with a question.

  “I doubt it. What she wanted was for me to fall in.”

  “You’re right. She doesn’t like you. Can I take it you obliged her?”

  “Yes.”

  “It would explain the state you’re in. But since you obviously managed to get out alive, perhaps I should reconsider my evaluation of how lucky you are.”

  “Not if you want to take my current situation into account as well.” Kim indicated her bound hands.

  “Maybe.” The leader paused for a while, then asked, “What did you do to make this major dislike you so much?”

  “She caught me kissing an Imprinter.”

  A second of stunned silence was followed by a roar of laughter, which the leader joined in. Once a degree of calm had been re-established, she looked back to Kim. “You know, I don’t like to form snap judgments about people, but you do seem to indulge in an overly dramatic lifestyle. Couldn’t you have considered something more conventional, such as drunk on parade?”

  Kim shrugged, but could not find the strength to say more. She was swaying on her feet, in imminent danger of collapse. The humor on the elderly woman’s face faded, and she lifted a hand to Kim’s forehead.

  “Lay her down by the fire,” the leader instructed the women at Kim’s side, dispensing with any more questions. Once this was done, she settled down beside the Ranger and said, “I have some of the healer sense, and it looks to me as if you are rather in need of its assistance.”

  The elderly hands rested on her forehead, and Kim began to feel the familiar sense of well-being that a healer could bestow. Pain ebbed, nausea dispersed, warmth flowed out from her core, driving away the tremors, then a soft drowsiness wrapped itself around her. The behavior was highly unconventional for a bandit chief, but Kim made no complaint. Working things out would be easier when she felt better.

  Chapter Fourteen—Ex-Sister Gina Renamed

  A short time later, Kim was roused from her light doze, aware of a vast improvement in her physical state. Enough for her to look with interest at the bowl of food held out to her by the white-haired leader. Around the campfire, the other bandits were also taking a late meal before sleeping. Eating with her hands tied was a little tricky, but Kim managed well enough, and eventually put the empty bowl down while stifling a large yawn.

  “I didn’t know if you’d want waking for food. But I guess you did,” the leader commented. Now that Kim was more alert, she also noted the lisp in the voice, the result of the elderly woman’s sagging lips.

  “Yes. Thank you. I’m sure I’ll get back to sleep okay.”

  “You certainly will. I’m afraid I’m going to have to put you out cold. We can’t trust those knots to hold you all night, and I don’t want to have people standing watch on you, as we’ve got a big day planned for tomorrow. I know it’s an abuse of the healer sense, and I’m sorry, but...” The leader looked at Kim apologetically.

  “That’s all right,” Kim said, and then the irony hit her. She looked up at the elderly woman. “The Guards told us we were after dangerous bandits. But if you don’t mind me saying so, you don’t seem to have the game sorted out very well. Most bandits knock people out by hitting them over the head with a large blunt instrument. And they hardly ever say sorry for it.”

  “Really!” The woman’s right hand eyebrow rose in mock surprise.

  Kim was aware that other bandits were also listening. She looked at her captors thoughtfully. “It adds to some concerns I’ve had about your commitment to theft. You seem to have stuck yourself in a spot where there’s no one to steal from.”

  “So putting it all together, what conclusions do you draw?”

  Kim met the gaze of the one good eye and said, “That you are not bandits.”

  “And what do you think we might be?” The leader sounded amused.

  “Some people who have seriously pissed off the Chief Consultant.”

  Laughter and scattered applause rang around the campsite. The leader also seemed quite pleased with Kim’s assessment. “Yes, we’ve certainly done that. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Gina Renamed. Ex-Sister Gina Renamed.”

  “Ex? I didn’t know Sisters could retire.”

  “We’re not supposed to, but it’s the least of the things I’ve done to upset the Chief Consultant.” Gina gave her an uneven smile. “And you are?”

  “Ranger Private Kimberly Ramon.”

  “You answer to Kim?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Kim, it would be best if we took a little while to digest our supper before sleeping. So how about if I tell you just what we’ve done to piss off the Chief Consultant?”

  Kim nodded her acceptance, and the ex-Sister settled herself a little more comfortably by the fire before continuing. “I actually began my career in the temple as an Imprinter. Well...a trainee Imprinter. And that’s another job you can’t normally retire from. Like everyone else, I went to the temple for assessment when I was twelve years old, but I was never allowed home again. It’s a terrible thing to do to a child. It leaves you with a lifelong resentment of the Sisters, which will explain a fair amount of what follows.”

  Kim’s face grew attentive as she thought of another Imprinter with a resentment of Sisters, though she said nothing.

  “I trained as an Imprinter for six years: the biology, the genetics, the lot.” Gina waved her hand as she spoke. “I was a few months from starting to work in the tem
ple, when one day, I was doing some experiments on a horse. Nothing that was going to hurt it. I don’t want you getting any false sympathies, just analyzing its DNA. I was deep in a trance when some fool came charging into the stable, screaming her head off about something utterly trivial. She spooked the horse. It reared up and kicked me in the head. At least, this is what I’ve been told, because I was unaware of anything at the time, or for some months after. But apparently the blow cracked my skull, giving me a brain hemorrhage. Obviously, the best healers were put onto me at once. They probably saved my life. Even so, I was in a coma for fifteen weeks, and when I finally came around, I was totally paralyzed down one side. I got better slowly, but you’ve no doubt noticed that I never made a full recovery. At first, it was thought my mental faculties were unharmed. The Chief Consultant herself was going to lead the prayers of thanks, and then it was realized my healer sense had gone.”

  “You did all right by me just now.”

  Gina shrugged. “It returned slowly over the years, the same as my walking, but it never made anything close to a full recovery. I’m a competent healer, but I can’t even force cloning, let alone imprint. So the temple had to work out what to do with me. I’d have been quite happy to go back to my parents, and I’m sure they’d have been happy to have me, but I’d been admitted into the sanctum and been privy to many great secrets of the temple. Well, that’s what they said. Personally, I think they didn’t want me spreading gossip about their private lives, which are nowhere near as holy as they’d like you to believe. Anyway, the end of it was they told me I had to become a Sister. Then they had the problem of knowing what to call me, since my last name had been formally annulled, so they came up with Renamed. Sister Gina Renamed. Damned stupid name.”

  “But it suits you,” someone heckled from the other side of the fire, giving rise to more laughter.