Sending

by Carmody Isobelle

  Finally, I reached into the shelf under the sill, drew out the memory seed and buttoned it into a waxed pocket as well, where it would be protected from moisture so long as I did not fall into a river, and even then it would be safe as long as I got out in a hurry. Jak always said it was moisture as much as the Great White that had destroyed the devices and relics of the Beforetime.

  I pulled on my coat, wrinkling my nose at the still pungent scent of the waterproofing oil, and heaved the pack onto my back, taking care that the coat lay flat under the straps. I was relieved to discover that the weight was not too great. I knew from other expeditions that the heft of a pack increased the longer one carried it, despite it being lightened as supplies were consumed.

  I had too little food for a very long journey, and only three water gourds, but if Maryon or Christa had not supplied more, I had to assume that they had seen I would not need it. In fact if Atthis was to provide, then I had taken more than I needed, but I could not bring myself simply to walk out and expect that all of my needs would be met. On impulse, I went to the mantelshelf above the hearth and got a small bag of coins. As I dropped it into my pocket, my eyes settled on a delicate long-toothed comb.

  Rushton had whittled it for me when he lay weak and ill after being brought back from Sutrium the year before. There was a coiling cat along the back of the comb teeth and its tail formed a handle. I took the lovely delicate thing and slipped it inside the pages of Jacob’s journal. Then I turned slowly to cast one last long look around the chamber that had for so long been my refuge within a refuge.

  ‘Ye gods, I cannot believe I will never be here again,’ I whispered, and despite the coercive net binding away grief, a band seemed to tighten around my chest making it difficult to breath. Maruman gave a low growl and I turned to the window to find him watching me, his tail snaking back and forth. ‘I am ready,’ I lied.

  In answer, he leapt down from the sill and ran lightly to the door. I was amazed to see how lithely he moved. In fact, his coat looked almost lustrous, save for the bald patches left by his forays across tainted ground in the past. Nor was there any sign of the stiffness in his joints that increasingly caused him to limp and to avoid jumping down from any height. In truth he looked years younger.

  A startling idea occurred to me.

  What if Maruman had been summoned to the ken because Atthis had noted how old and how frail he had become in the last few years? Might she not have commanded the healer Nerat to tend his hurts? The infirmities of old age could not be mended, but the Agyllians had extraordinary healing powers, and what if they had given the old cat’s body the same capacity as mine to heal itself? Might that not be the true reason I had been commanded to hurry back to the mountains from Sador? Certainly it would explain the old cat’s long absence.

  Of course I shielded my speculations, but I could not hide the joy I felt at the thought. Maruman turned to look at me, yellow eye narrowed suspiciously. I busied myself adjusting the sword in its makeshift holder and shouldered my new bow and the quiver of arrows. When I looked at him again, the old cat merely bade me be quick and silent.

  ‘Elspethlnnle must not be seen leaving the barud,’ he reiterated.

  His tone was so stern that I had to wonder what Atthis had foreseen would happen if I was caught leaving, but there was no use in asking Maruman what had passed between him and the Agyllian Elder. It was not his nature to give anything easily. I consoled myself yet again with the thought that I would soon enough see Atthis herself, and she would answer my questions.

  I listened at the door before opening it and looking out. I could not help wondering if Rushton had gone to his bed after he brought the wreath, or to the farms or back to the kitchens? He had always been able to survive on very little sleep when there were things that demanded his attention, but even he had to sleep sometimes. This thought was a painful reminder that I had promised to wake him when I woke. It was only one of many promises, great and small, that I would break by leaving so suddenly and silently.

  I closed the door of my chamber behind me only to find the lanterns in the stairwell had gone out, but a dim bluish predawn light fell from the roof window and I made my way down by it. Maruman, having the night vision of a cat, had no need of lanterns to light his way, and he had already gone ahead and was waiting for me at the bottom of the steps, tail lashing.

  The Farseekers hall lay still and quiet. There were two windows at the far end, which cast elongated squares of ghostly bluish light on the dark boards, but the garden outside was enveloped in mist. At a soft hiss from Maruman I set off across the hall, thinking of all the Farseeker meetings and training sessions that had occurred here, all the laughter and arguments and tears that I had witnessed. Then I was descending the short stair leading to the angled passage I had come along after spending the night with Rushton.

  Opening the door at the end of it, I stepped into the misty predawn, feeling as if I were setting off on a Farseeker expedition, only this time there was no rescue to be made and no return to look forward to.

  There was no sign of Darga, and as Maruman leapt onto the path and set off towards the farms, I wondered if that one enigmatic appearance had been the last I would see of the Herder-bred dog.

  I followed Maruman, walking on my toes to mute the sound of heavy boots, which would carry far in the stillness of the predawn. Again I noted how easily and fluidly the old cat moved. A head-high wall bordered the path on the left, but when it gave way to a hedgerow, Maruman immediately slipped under it and vanished. I did not have to ask why we were not continuing along the path, since I knew, as Maruman must have seen or scented, that further along, both sides of the path were clogged with tents pitched to accommodate moon fair visitors.

  I heaved a sigh, and got down on my hands and knees to peer under the dark tangle of branches. The gap between them and the ground was so low that I had to take off the pack, the stone sword and the bow and quiver and shove them through before crawling after them. Resuming my burdens on the other side, I grimaced at my muddy hands and was glad the knees of my trews were doubled.

  An orchard of small fruit trees grew on the other side of the hedgerow in long meandering lines. I could just make out Maruman picking his way fastidiously along the wet, boggy lane between the hedgerow and the nearest apple trees.

  I hurried to catch up to him, and then slowed down, grimacing at the loud squelching of the ground underfoot. Meanwhile Maruman had turned to cut across the rows of trees to the other side of the orchard, where there was a stone wall. It was not the high outer wall that surrounded Obernewtyn but a low inner wall, beyond which lay the remnant of the wild park that had once covered the whole area between the main house and the outer wall.

  Maruman turned to follow the low wall towards the farms, and when I caught up to him, I realised the ground was higher along the side of the wall, and therefore drier. No doubt this was the way Maruman had entered the grounds to ensure he was not seen, and I wondered, as I ducked to avoid a long branch, if he and Darga had come to Obernewtyn together.

  I thought of Gahltha, but resisted the impulse to farseek him, knowing that my sending would be overheard by other beasts between us. Maruman had said no one must know I was leaving and he had not specified humans. Most likely Maruman had already spoken to Gahltha, and the black horse was waiting beyond the wall.

  As I slowed down to pick my way over a particularly hummocky patch of earth, I found myself remembering an encounter with Maryon in the days before the land for the orchard had been cleared. There had been a small clearing in the wilderness of old trees and tangled bramble thickets that grew between the outer wall and the stone maze wall, centred on an eroded stone seat dating back to the Beforetime. I had developed the habit of retreating there when I needed an hour or so to myself. One day I had been startled and somewhat indignant to find the Futureteller guildmistress there before me. I had thought no one else knew about the seat. Maryon had spoken to me that day as never before or since, recallin
g a childhood that had been shattered as brutally as my own by death and destruction.

  Remembering that rare moment of connection between us, it was hard to take in that I would not see the tall, sombre futureteller again. I had never been comfortable with her and there had been many occasions when I had disliked her for the things she had set in motion as a futureteller. But she had always been an honourable person who had lived according to her beliefs and I wished that I had thanked her for the things she had done for me.

  It struck me as an irony that she had probably foreseen even this.

  I stumbled over a clod of earth and the stone sword jarred painfully against my hip. Gritting my teeth, I continued. It was not easy to see the ground, for although the sky was growing lighter as dawn approached, the mist at ground level seemed thicker in the shadows of the trees. Also, I was moving faster than I liked in order to keep up with Maruman, so that the heavy sword thumped uncomfortably at my side in its makeshift sheath. I might just as well have walked more slowly, since there was only one way out of the orchard, where the wall and the hedge came together like a pair of pincers behind a row of farm buildings, but the old cat was too recently returned for me to feel easy at the thought of letting him out of my sight.

  In truth, the realisation that I was not to take ship for the Red Land had shattered all of my certainties, especially given that both Dell and Maryon had seen me in the Red Land with Dragon. I might have convinced myself that one of them had mistaken a futuretelling – but both? The only way I could see their predictions coming to pass now was if I was to go to the Red Land after my quest was over. But even then, how was I to get to the Red Land without passing back through the Land?

  ‘Gnawing!’ Maruman snapped and looked back at me, his single eye flaring.

  I glared at him, thinking loudly to myself that if only he would tell me more of what he knew, I would not fret at my ignorance. Maruman ignored me and I regretted my impatience, knowing it would make him more resistant than ever to telling me anything. Obviously he had not yet forgiven me for abandoning him in Saithwold, even though that had not been of my choosing.

  I wondered wearily if the Agyllians had ever grasped that, much as Maruman’s strange mind served them as a safe and secure means of sending information to me, it was a labyrinth that must be negotiated before I could come to what I needed to know, and its owner was wilful and eccentric.

  I noticed the dark shape of the surrounding wall looming up beside me and realised we had almost reached the end of the orchard. Squinting, I could just make out the backs of the outbuildings ahead. Unfortunately I would not be able to slip along behind them to the farm gate because the orchard wall ran into the back of one of the stone sheds. The only way to reach the gate would be to slip between the farm buildings and make my way to it in the open. It would be risky for the area would be full of the wagons and carriages of moon fair visitors. Of course at such an hour they were like to be snoring their heads off, but it was common practice on the farms for workers to rise before dawn.

  My heart sank as I remembered that Straaka’s grim brother, Ahmedri, had chosen to stay on the farms. If I were seen, it would not take him long to hear of it. Even aside from Maruman’s warning that no one could know I was leaving, the last thing I wanted was for the dour tribesman to come galloping after me. I felt no guilt at evading him, for even aside from the fact that my quest must come before all else, I did not feel I was breaking any promise to him. When I had agreed that he might remain until he had learned the whereabouts of his brother’s bones, I could not have guessed that he would interpret this as a promise to allow him to dog my heels.

  I had no doubt that the moment he heard I had left he would set out at once to find my trail. If he was half as good as Straaka, it would not take him long to find me if he knew where and how I had departed. Therefore I must not be seen leaving. Then when he did hear of my departure, hours and hours would have passed and other trails would have blotted out mine so that it would take him some time to discern my most recent trail away from Obernewtyn.

  I did not know why the overguardian of the Earthtemple had been so certain that I would lead Ahmedri to his brother’s bones. Had she not foreseen that I was about to leave the Land? In truth, the part of my life connected to it had been severed the moment I set eyes on Darga. The Earthtemple overguardian must have misread her vision when she connected the finding of Straaka’s bones to me. Or more likely her words had been misunderstood, for the guardians of the Earthtemple were as fond of obscurity as any futureteller.

  Maruman froze and instantly I did the same.

  We were close enough to the farm buildings that marked the end of the orchard for me to see the ghostly shapes of wagons crowded into the open space beyond them. I could not hear any voices, but I drew the padded hood of the coat over my head and decided I would simply walk through the campsite. As long as I kept my head down it was likely that anyone happening to see me would think I was merely one of the inhabitants of the wagons going to relieve myself in the area set aside for that function. I was worried about Gahltha, though, for he was too fine a horse to go unremarked if anyone had seen him leaving Obernewtyn. I only hoped he had taken care to offer some innocuous excuse for his absence. Certainly once it was discovered that I was not at Obernewtyn, anyone would guess he had been coming to join me.

  I moved up beside Maruman and crouched down. We stayed that way for so long that my leg muscles began to twinge, but at last I heard the sound of a door closing and a figure moved away from the nearest building carrying two buckets. It was Louis Larkin humming tunelessly as he worked. A moment later the mist swallowed him up. Instantly Maruman sprang up and ran lightly out between the sheds. I followed, walking as quietly as I could, but instead of moving between the wagons, Maruman simply slipped around the building and darted back into the wilderness that lay between the outer wall of Obernewtyn and the orchard wall.

  I thought at first that he only meant us to conceal ourselves until he could be sure the way was clear, but he continued through the dense undergrowth until we were moving parallel to the outer wall, heading back towards the main front gate. Was this circuitous route merely a reflection of the old cat’s tortuous mind or was there a reason for it?

  A solitary bird gave a thin piping call, a prelude to the morning chorus that would erupt when the sun rose. It was hard to tell the time because of the mist, but a sense of urgency began to creep over me, potent as a premonition. The undergrowth was less thick and tangled as we neared the front of Obernewtyn, for most of the trees were older firs and the ground beneath them was flat and cushioned with fallen needles.

  I had a sudden vision of Ceirwan coming in later in the morning to my chamber to find me gone. We had been friends as well as guildmistress and guilden for many years and he deserved a proper farewell. Yet even if I had been able to leave him a missive, all that I might say as guildmistress to the new guildmaster of the Farseekers would be things Ceirwan would come to of his own accord, and what could I say as a friend but goodbye? To leave him and all of the others without any explanation seemed churlish, but in truth, what words could I have woven in such little time as I had to soften the abruptness of my departure? I had none of Rushton’s gift for speeches. One day, when the truth sealed up in him broke free, he would speak for me with his silver tongue. But for now, my departure was better unremarked, for it would delay anyone trying to follow me.

  Finding me absent, Ceirwan would farseek me, and when he could not find me, he would suppose I had closed my mind to him, as I was wont to do when I needed a bit of privacy. He knew well that I had not been looking forward to the hordes of strangers that would descend on us for the moon fair.

  I had not asked Rushton when and where Angina would be buried or how such a sombre event was to be managed in the midst of a moon fair. Certainly Angina must be buried with proper ceremony as much for the living as anything else, but what of Miky? Was her brother to be buried while she slept? They could n
ot wait more than a couple of days. I thought of the pain she would suffer if she woke and discovered that her twin was dead and buried. Perhaps she would wish she had died too.

  I shook my head. There was nothing I could do for either of the twins now. Either Miky would live or she would not. The matter was in the hands of fate, or maybe in the gentle healing hands of Darius.

  After some time, when it was discovered I was not at Obernewtyn, Rushton might ride down to the White Valley only to find that I had never arrived at the Twentyfamilies’ camp. His visit would alert Swallow that I was missing and I knew the gypsy would realise something was afoot, but I could not imagine what he would do, unless his seers foresaw where I had gone and sent him after me. As to Rushton, he might even decide to ride right down to the lowlands if Ceirwan told him of my fear that Analivia had gone to seek her father and brother. But they would find no trace of me in Saithwold or Sawlney.

  There were so many important events about to unfold that my absence would seem increasingly puzzling: Angina’s funeral, the ceremony to make Rushton chieftain of the new shire of Obernewtyn, Zarak’s bonding and the Choosing Ceremony – I should have been present at all of them. Perhaps Rushton and the coercer-knights would come to the conclusion that I had been abducted and a party would be sent out to search for me. Perhaps those seeking me would discover Miryum and free her from her captors, whereupon she would reveal the whereabouts of Straaka’s bones. In that case the bones would have been discovered because of me after all. For Ahmedri’s sake, and for Miryum’s if she truly was captive somewhere, I hoped so.

  But no one would find me.