The Temple at Landfall

by Jane Fletcher

  “The way you all seem quite content to toss the rule book out.”

  Kim pursed her lips. “It depends on what the rule is. Our discipline is very tight where it counts. But sometimes, as a Ranger, you have to choose between following the rules and staying alive. It works pretty well at whittling out the people who prefer the first option.”

  “Perhaps,” Gina conceded. “I’ve only got my experience with the temple Guard to compare you with.”

  “Oh well, compared to the Guards, we’re all raving subversives. As I’m sure Rozek would tell you, if she were here.”

  Gina laughed. “I’ve noted none of you tried quoting the book of the Elder-Ones at me.”

  “I doubt if many of us could remember the relevant quotes, though it may not mean that all are convinced by your arguments.”

  “That’s hardly surprising, as I don’t think you’re fully convinced yourself.”

  Kim shrugged. “I’m trying to cultivate an open mind.”

  “I won’t hold it against you. We heretics are too much in your debt as it is.”

  “Pardon?” Kim asked, confused as much by the earnestness of Gina’s tone as her words.

  “You brought us hope. After ten years living in crude huts, we’d given up everything apart from the aim of surviving from day to day. Well, that and feeling smug because, although we might be wet and cold, at least we knew the truth.”

  Kim nodded her head. “It’s not been a one-way exchange. I think we Rangers are just starting to see what we’ve gained. The authorities like to keep Rangers flexible, so they make a point of moving us around, and they disapprove of close personal ties. We have to choose between family and the call of the wide-open spaces. Now some of us are realizing we can have them both.”

  “And some have realized it quicker than others.”

  Kim matched Gina’s grin, aware that over the winter, quite a few relationships had sprung up between Rangers and heretics, but she missed the thoughtful gaze Gina directed in her direction.

  After a few minutes of walking, their footsteps took them to the high wooden barricade across the mouth of the valley. From the fortified gateway, they could look down on the women with pickaxes who were modifying the path up, cutting a route which pack animals could manage, but one that would not allow more than two women to walk abreast, and one that would be exposed to arrows from above every step of the way. It was urgent work, as the entire move from the old site had to be completed inside two months at most, and much had to be transported up to the site of the new settlement.

  “You know. We’re going to have to think of a name for the place. Otherwise it will end up as New Village or something equally banal,” Gina said.

  “Too late. I’ve already heard people start to refer to it as Westernfort.”

  Gina wrinkled her nose. “Could be worse.”

  From their vantage point, they had a panoramic view of the broad, snow-covered lowlands. Even when work on the path to the upper valley was complete, the animals would normally be kept down there on the rich water meadows, only retreating to the safe fields behind the wall when danger was near. Currently, a herd of sheep was scattered beside the riverbank and cattle congregated under the shelter of trees, where bales of hay had been put down to supplement what other food might be found. A few rough sheds and hay barns had been built and stocked the previous autumn, the first work to be undertaken at the new farm. Of necessity, the herds had been moved before winter set in, since by now they were all heavy with young. If they had been left at the old site until spring, the presence of new lambs, calves, and piglets would have delayed the long trek until well after the time when the Guards might return to the mountains. And whatever the Rangers might feel about the tracking skills of the Guards, it did no harm that several months would have passed to cover all traces of the passage of hundreds of hooves.

  As her gaze took in the animals below, a new, worried frown creased Gina’s forehead.

  “Is something wrong?” Kim asked.

  “I was thinking about the herds.”

  “What about them? They seem okay.”

  “Oh, they are. But all the work going on here has reminded me that I need to plan slightly further ahead than I’ve been used to, and I’m not sure of the herds’ future.”

  “Why not?”

  “Lilian is not as young as she used to be,” Gina said simply.

  “Oh,” Kim said in sudden understanding. “Is her health failing?”

  “No. She’s in very good condition for her age, but...” Gina did not need to say more.

  Lilian was the heretics’ Cloner, an ancient, shrunken woman who was a familiar sight, tottering around the animal pens. It was her skill with the healer sense that had called into existence the new generation of farm animals that were bulging the sides of the creatures below. Without her, there would be no others to follow. Yet, since Lilian must be well into her eighties, it was unreasonable to expect the new farm would be able to employ her services for many more years.

  Gina shook her head slightly and said, “Still, it’s not fair to write Lilian off too soon. She’s a tough old thing and could outlive us all. And there is nothing much we can do in the way of useful planning. Except maybe a little research into a few vegetarian dishes.”

  “We might get a new Cloner.”

  “Possible, although not too likely, when you think of how rare Cloners are. For a community as small as ours, we were very lucky to get Lilian to start with.”

  “We could be a bit more enterprising and deliberately set out to recruit a Cloner.”

  Gina laughed aloud and pointed a finger at Kim. “Now that’s what the Rangers bring to us—a more positive way of looking at things.”

  “Standard military procedure. Always plan ahead to secure your resources.” Kim’s voice was heavy with self-parody.

  “An interesting idea.” Gina bit a corner of her lip. “But it will need some thought as to how we identify a suitable convert.”

  Kim turned away sharply and stared out toward the row of mountains on the far horizon.

  “Kim?” Gina had to ask three times before she got an answer.

  “I think I might know of someone already.”

  “A Cloner?” Gina’s voice reflected a little surprise.

  “No, an Imprinter. Imprinters can clone as well, can’t they?”

  “Of course...” Gina paused. “I imagine you’re referring to the subject of your indiscretion in the stable?” Over the winter, the full story had been recounted on many occasions.

  “Yes...Lynn. She told me how much she hated being held in the temple, and she loves mountains. She might be persuaded to come here. Also, she took the full blame for everything that happened in Petersmine, which saved my life. The least I owe her is to find out whether she’s safe and happy, even if she doesn’t want to join us. But if we had an Imprinter, then we could have children, and that really would give us a future.”

  Gina studied Kim’s profile thoughtfully. “You would also have slightly more personal reasons for wanting her here?”

  “Well...I’m...possibly not,” Kim mumbled. Her eyes slipped from the horizon and finished up somewhere much closer to her feet.

  “Not?”

  Kim shrugged. “I don’t think it was terribly seriously meant, certainly not on her side. I mean the words she used—adolescent crush—don’t point to anything heavy, and it’s coming on a year since we last met. I think she’d enjoyed the freedom of the mountain fort. We’d been friends, and she was upset at parting and not thinking too clearly. Otherwise, surely she’d have made things obvious before, rather than blurting it out after the time when she was supposed to have left.”

  Gina’s face held a slightly skeptical look, although all she said was, “And how about you?”

  “Oh...I was mainly caught by surprise. Yes...I liked her, but I’m a Ranger.” Kim pulled a wry face. “It’s almost part of the job to try your luck with half the women you meet.” She sighed heavily,
then shook her head. “For this settlement to have a long-term future, we need an Imprinter, and Imprinters have to be celibate.”

  Gina looked as if she was about to say something and then changed her mind, although she continued to watch Kim thoughtfully. After a long pause she said, “Getting an Imprinter out of a temple won’t be easy. We need to carefully evaluate the risks and benefits.”

  “Of course,” Kim agreed.

  “If we do decide to go for it, it would be better if the attempt was made as soon as possible, before Rozek starts crawling around the mountains again.”

  “That’s no problem. I’m quite used to traveling during winter. I could leave within days.”

  “You’re assuming you’ll be the one to go?” Gina’s voice was lightly amused.

  “Try and talk me out of it.”

  *

  “I want to go as well.” Chip’s voice was quietly adamant, but Kim shook her head.

  “One of us has to be left here in command.”

  “So why don’t you stay? I’d have said that I was far more expendable than you.”

  Kim looked at her friend in slight confusion. “Why are you so eager?”

  “I’ve already said. Because I think I owe her. Owe you both. Remember, it was me who put my foot in it.”

  “That’s hardly a recommendation for a tricky mission.”

  Chip sank her head into her hands and then raised it again to look out over the small lake. Evening was falling on Westernfort, and work was stopping for the night. A moon was glimmering in the darkening sky and reflected on the ice-bound water. That afternoon it had been agreed that Kim would go after Lynn, leaving before the middle of the month. The only thing remaining was to work out who else would be in the party. Chip chewed on her lip as she tried to think of more arguments for her own inclusion, but nothing came to mind.

  “Chip? There’s more to it than feeling guilty, isn’t there?” Kim asked softly.

  Chip shrugged one shoulder. “Are you still interested in her?”

  “What’s that got to do with it?”

  “It might affect whether she’s still an Imprinter when she gets here.” Chip could not bring herself to meet Kim’s eyes, but carried on in a rush. “I know it’s not a fair thing for me to put on you, but Katryn and I wanted kids. Well, at least one, and joining the heretics, we thought we had to forget it, but if Lynn comes here and she’s still an Imprinter, even for a short while, then...” The trail of words ground to a halt.

  Kim put her arm around Chip’s shoulder. “So you wanted to come along and make sure we were never left alone together?”

  “Oh, nothing that crass. I was just going to let you know what it meant to me, and then stand around looking pathetically miserable any time the pair of you seemed to be getting along too well. I’m not proud. I don’t mind stooping to emotional blackmail.”

  Kim laughed. “How would I tell your pathetically miserable look from your normal one?”

  “I’d make suitable hand signals.” Chip turned and faced Kim. “But forgetting the jokes, Lynn coming here would mean so much to Katryn and me. I want to come and help on the mission because it’s so important.”

  Kim’s expression became serious. “That’s all right. But you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m going to do everything possible to get her here safely, and I’m going to do it because the village needs an Imprinter, with all that implies, and not because I like my chances with her. In fact, I don’t even expect Lynn to still be interested in me. What happened in the stable was a mistake, on both sides. She was feeling lonely and miserable, and I...Well, you know my record with women.”

  “Record is the right word, and that’s partly what worries me,” Chip said forlornly, and then took a deep breath. “Although I’ll admit you’ve slowed down a little over the years.”

  “It’s called growing up.” Kim punched her friend’s arm gently. “Don’t worry. I promise you, I’ll get her here and she’ll still be an Imprinter when she arrives.”

  Part Three

  Westernfort

  Chapter Seventeen—In Clothes Like These

  Sometimes in the temple you had good days, and sometimes you had bad days, and usually you could not be bothered to spot the difference between the two. Lynn stood in the imprinting chapel, feeling not so much exhausted as drained. Drained of all energy and enthusiasm, drained of the ability to take pleasure in the smiling faces of the young couple before her, drained of life. Surely the most ironic state for an Imprinter to reach, yet one they all got to in the end. Being told of Kim’s death had simply pushed Lynn into it a bit sooner than expected. She was still one of the better Imprinters in the temple, but she no longer stood out as exceptional.

  The change had Sister Dunsin both peeved and confused. Showing Lynn the dispatch from the Rangers should have improved the cynical Imprinter’s respect for the will of the Goddess and should have enhanced her discipline, making her better able to do Celaeno’s work. That it had not was obviously Lynn’s fault in some way that the dogmatic Sister had yet to pinpoint, beyond a general confirmation that sins of lust were as damaging to an Imprinter’s talent as the teachings of Himoti warned. Lynn could sometimes reach an odd, dispassionate sympathy for the woman. Dunsin was not particularly malicious or stupid; she was just hampered by her beliefs, which insisted on providing her with answers before she had the chance to start thinking.

  In the chapel, the couplets of the litany of thanks stumbled on. Keeping up required no concentration. Lynn latched onto the rhythm, and the words were so familiar she could recite them in her sleep. From the advance of shadows across the wall, Lynn estimated she had been in the imprinting trance for nearly three hours, pretty much average for her over the past few months. With the nearest thing she had felt to pleasure all day, Lynn realized it was now too late for her to be introduced to another couple of prospective parents. She had only to finish the family prayers, offer her private thanks in Himoti’s oratory, and then she would be free until the evening meal. Unless Dunsin caught her first.

  The escort of Guards fell into place around her as she left the chapel, clearing a way through the crowds of worshipers and bystanders who always wanted to congregate in the most awkward of places. Most sidestepped quickly, but those too lost in religious awe to shift in time were roughly elbowed aside by the Guardswoman in the lead. None should hinder an Imprinter, the chosen of the Goddess, the woman in blue, whose aloof, glazed stare seemed oblivious of the ordinary folk and the circle of reverence that surrounded her.

  In truth, Lynn was so tired she was scarcely aware of the flow of people in the temple—the march of the Guards, the shuffling of the public, or the purposeful, yet sedate, progress of the occasional white-robed Sister across the great hall, but her eyes did fix on the open exit and the brief flash of daylight beyond. Then it was gone, and in its place loomed the entrance to the sanctum. Lynn passed through the hanging curtains alone, into the corridors of the quiet inner sanctum, the preserve of the initiates.

  Himoti’s oratory was deserted when she entered. The only movement was the flicker of candlelight. The flames danced in the draft as Lynn closed the door. She knelt before the small shrine, her eyes fixed on the traditional carved fresco. She was supposed to be offering thanks for the gift of life, yet no words rose in her heart. The festival of Landfall had been celebrated only a few weeks before, sharpening the memories of the same time the previous year at the mountain fort. How could she give thanks when life was so unfair, so devoid of hope? It would not help even if she could believe Dunsin’s constant preaching: that Kim had ensnared her using cheap, sordid tricks; that Kim had wanted to harm her, violate her; and that the Goddess had inflicted a just punishment on the sinful Ranger. Because if she believed that, then life would be devoid of any value, any beauty, any thing worth caring about.

  Dunsin was probably consulting her books at that very moment, devising new lectures to bombast her protégé back into the full grace of the Goddess. Even as the
thought occurred to Lynn, the door opened and a tall Sister stepped into the oratory. Lynn’s spirits sank still lower, if that were possible, but a quick sideways glance showed it was not her mentor. The masked figure was too lightly built for the thickset Dunsin.

  The unknown Sister knelt beside her at the shrine, and for a few seconds there was silence before the new arrival said quietly, “Please don’t shout or run away, but I need to talk to you.”

  “Pardon?” Lynn said in total bewilderment. The line was hardly a conventional opening for a Sister to use.

  “I need to talk to you. And for starters, is it okay for me to be here? I followed you from the great hall, but I don’t know whether a Sister is supposed to come into this room.”

  Lynn froze, unable to accept that she recognized the voice. She turned her head and met the level pair of eyes above the mask. “Kim?” The name was mimed more than spoken.

  “Yes.”

  “They said you were dead.”

  “Not quite, but not for the lack of them trying.”

  Lynn’s gaze darted back to the shrine as she concentrated on breathing, on reassuring herself she was not dreaming or hallucinating.

  “Lynn? Are you all right?”

  “I...I think so.”

  “Is it okay for me to be here? I can’t risk attracting attention.”

  Lynn tried to pull herself together. “Er...yes...It...it would not be unusual...certainly not enough to...er...concern anyone.”

  “Good. I’m sorry to just appear like this, but there was no way to warn you first.”

  “That’s all right, I was...” Lynn’s words halted. “You are...really here, aren’t you?”

  Kim laughed softly. “If ever I come back as a ghost, I promise I won’t do it in clothes like these.”

  “Right.” A confusion of emotions chased across Lynn’s face and she could feel her eyes were dangerously close to filling with tears. She concentrated on the carving of the shrine while her mind tried to come to terms with what was happening.