The Spark

by David Drake

  Jon and Jolene, his Consort, came in through a curtain at the back of the stage that I’d thought was solid metal. They were both in gold. They sat in the two gilt chairs at the front of the stage.

  Jolene’s hair was loose except for a thin gold fillet. It lay like a spill of white gold over the darker gleam of the fabric. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

  The horn music kept up. Clain and Louis came in side by side, Clain in red and white checks and Louis in white with a gold collar and cuffs. Clain stood just back of the Leader’s chair while Louis took the same location to the Consort.

  I wondered what Louis thought of this business. If Louis and Jon both really believed in spreading the Commonwealth the way Guntram said, then they must feel that this sort of pageant was part of the way to do it. Jon wouldn’t have been here otherwise, and I bet that a Maker as skilled as Louis could’ve begged off too, even if the Leader wanted him to show himself.

  More men were marching in pair by pair, the remainder of the top Champions. Morseth and Reaves, Mietes and Chun, Baran and Gismonde, Ronald and Wissing. The first two had helped me on my first visit to Dun Add, but the rest were barely more than names to me. I recognized the men who’d been managing the Aspirants’ Tournament.

  Besides the men standing with Jon, scores of additional Champions stood in front of the stage like a living curtain. They pretty much looked bored. At least I had a chair to sit in, probably because it wasn’t time for us new enrollees to get attention.

  “Oh, I wish my mother could see me now!” Maggie said, I suppose to Baga on my other side. “She’d be so proud!”

  My mom and dad would’ve been proud to be here too, and my neighbors besides. They’d tell everybody they met that they knew me.

  For myself, I’d rather have been working on the color projector up in Guntram’s shop. Heck, I’d rather have been standing in the cold rain helping Gervaise lift his wagon out of a mudhole.

  A priest came out behind the last pair of Champions and stood at the front of the stage. He was all in gold like the Leader and Consort. He raised his arms and started praying that God would bless the great work of reunification and would bless those who were carrying it out.

  There was nothing in that that I’d really disagree with, though it seemed to me that the priest knew more about what God was thinking than seemed likely to me. Regardless, it was a reasonable thing to say at a time like this—if he’d stopped there.

  He kept talking for another twenty minutes without coming up with anything new. Nothing that I heard, anyway; I’ll admit that I was sorta nodding off before too long. I still don’t know how he managed to keep his arms raised that long; mine would’ve gone numb long since.

  The priest finally stopped. He turned and bowed to Jon, then walked off the back of the stage the way he’d come. Jon hadn’t let him stay like Louis and the Champions did.

  And Jolene was there too. May was probably somewhere up in the seats behind me, or maybe not.

  Jon rose to his feet. “Citizens of the Commonwealth!” he said. “Fellow human beings!”

  I was even more impressed by the way his words carried here than I had been in the courtroom, which at least had a roof. I wondered if the woman from Bassai had designed them both.

  “It is my duty and that of every human being to unite Mankind,” Jon said. “Only in that way can we protect Mankind not only from the inhuman monsters of the Waste and of Not-Here but also from the monsters within ourselves.”

  He used a long pause to look around the ranks of seats above me. I wondered if he really was taking in the audience or if it was just an act. It maybe was real: Jon’s expression glowed with faith, something I hadn’t gotten from the priest in the twenty minutes he talked.

  “I said that this is the duty of every one of us,” Jon continued. “But there are certain ones who have dedicated their strength and lives to this duty. These are the Champions of Mankind, those standing before you. Three more are to be enrolled into their company on this day. I will now call them up beside me one at a time. Lord Selon!”

  Selon got up from the chair to the right of mine and walked up the six steps to the level of the stage. He knelt before Jon.

  Selon was my age, but he was the son of a rich landowner here on Dun Add. He was a handsome fellow and his equipment was first rate. We’d eaten at the same table in the Refectory a number of times and I’d found him pleasant and cheerful, a thoroughly good fellow.

  Becoming a Champion had been as much his dream as it was mine. Unlike me, Selon had known exactly what it required and how to go about it.

  Jon stepped forward and hung a medallion around Selon’s neck by a red and gold ribbon. “Rise, Champion,” Jon said, “and face some of the citizens you are now sworn to protect!”

  Selon did. He was a good-looking fellow, but right now he was strained and white, like he was on the scaffold instead of being enrolled in the Company of Champions.

  “Lord Selon,” Jon said. “Is your property sufficient to support you as a Champion of Mankind?”

  “Yes, Leader,” Selon said, but I only knew that because I was watching his lips.

  “Then what first duty would you have me lay on you?” Jon said.

  “Leader…” Selon said. He’d gotten his voice back. “You recently ordered that two landowners on Portland stop their warring and come to Dun Add for you to judge their quarrel. I ask that you send me to Portland to enforce your will.”

  “Granted, Lord Selon,” Jon said. “Meet with Lord Clain, my chancellor, after the ceremony and discuss how you are to proceed with the business. For now, remain here on the stage.”

  Jon gestured to his right. Selon obediently crossed the front of the stage to stand beside Wissing.

  “Master Deltchev, come forward!” Jon said. The man at the far end of our short row got up and climbed the steps to the stage. He bowed as Selon had.

  Deltchev was in his forties at the youngest. He’d been a member of the Army at one time, but he’d gone off as a soldier for hire early on. After decades of fighting he’d gotten decent equipment—and a great deal of experience using it, as well as scars.

  We had sparred several times as Aspirants. Detchev’s gear was at best serviceable, but he was a remarkably canny fighter. I’d learned something new every time we fought, and I generally came out of the bout with bruises and often a pressure cut.

  Jon hung the medallion on Deltchev’s neck and told him to rise and face the audience. “Master Deltchev,” Jon said. “Is your property sufficient to keep you as a Champion of Mankind?”

  “No, Leader, it is not,” Deltchev said in a gruff, determined voice. He sounded just like the man I’d known in the Aspirants’ Hall. “But if you’ll appoint me to command a squadron of the regular army, the pay will keep me fine. I know the work and I know the men.”

  “Granted, Master Deltchev,” Jon said. “Talk to Lord Clain after the ceremony. I believe Third Squadron requires a permanent head.”

  Deltchev moved to the Leader’s left. Jon looked at me and said, “Pal of Beune, come forward!”

  I’d been afraid it was going to be “Lord Pal,” which really embarrassed me. I got up fast and almost stumbled. I’d thought I was ready for this, but I wasn’t. At least I didn’t trip on the steps.

  I knelt in front of Jon with my head bowed. I felt the touch of the silk, then the weight of the medallion. Though it was less than two inches across, the gold was heavier than I’d expected.

  “Rise, Champion, and face your fellow humans!”

  I got up and turned. I couldn’t see any individuals out there, just a blur of people. The sun was in my eyes.

  “Pal of Beune!” Jon said from behind me. “Is your property sufficient to keep you as a Champion of Mankind?”

  I’d been going over and over that question in my mind ever since I learned how things worked after you were made Champion. The Leader appointed new Champions as governors of one or more nodes within the Commonwealth to coll
ect the taxes and only pass on half, keeping the rest for themselves. Depending on where it was, that could be quite a lot of money. The governor could hire a vicar to do the work and use the rest of the money to keep lodgings in Dun Add instead of living in the Hall.

  The thing is, I didn’t want to rule anybody, and I sure didn’t want to take money for doing nothing. I had more than half the money from Frances left. I was living in the palace, so my only real expense was paying Baga.

  “Thank you, Leader,” I said, “but my property is sufficient.”

  “What first duty would you have me lay on you, Champion?”

  “Leader,” I said, “I’ve dreamed of protecting Mankind from incursions from the Waste. Send me to a place on the Marches where enemies are threatening, so I can protect people who’re distant from Dun Add.”

  “Granted, Pal of Beune,” Jon said. “Talk to my Chancellor after the ceremony and we’ll find you a suitable region. For the moment, step to the side.”

  I moved over to stand beside Selon. I was wrung out as badly as I’d been after three bouts in the Aspirants’ Tournament. But it was over now.

  I almost started laughing. I’ve gotten everything I’ve dreamed of. Now what?

  Jon faced the crowd. “Citizens of the Commonwealth!” he said. “In celebration of what we have done here this day, please eat and drink your fill from the tables set up behind this building!”

  There were lots of cheers, but the shuffle of boots heading out the doors to left and right of the stage quickly drowned them out. Ushers at the doors were making sure people didn’t pile up. There must be a lot of planning that goes into a business like this.

  I turned to Lord Selon and clasped arms with him. “Good luck to you, sir,” I said. “If anybody can talk sense into a couple of quarrelsome lordlings, it’s you.”

  “And good luck to you, Pal,” Selon said, looking me up and down. “You’ll be out in the middle of nowhere by yourself, and you’ll need all your considerable wits to survive.”

  He pursed his lips and added, “You have large holdings on Beune, then?”

  “No,” I said, smiling. Selon’s family lands were probably greater than all the farms on Beune put together. “But I don’t need much to keep me. Especially in the Marches, you know.”

  Deltchev had been talking with Lord Clain. He finished and left by the back of the stage with one of the clerks who’d descended on Clain as soon as Jon dismissed the audience; that was another sign of the organization that folks in Dun Add took for granted.

  Selon nodded to me and took his turn with Clain. I looked back and saw Baga and his wife waiting by my chair. I wasn’t going to need him further today, so I waved him toward the nearer of the lines moving toward the banquet area. Maggie gripped him by the shoulder and shook her head firmly.

  I smiled. There was such a crush at the doors that it probably didn’t matter anyway. I wondered if there’d be ale on offer, though I knew Baga preferred wine.

  It was my turn with the chamberlain. He looked up from the several sheets of information that a clerk had just handed him.

  Clain was very powerful close-up. I’ve known bigger men—and Clain wasn’t actually taller than I am—but he radiated power. I found him more overwhelming than he’d seemed when we’d fought. Then it was me against a very skilled, very powerful warrior. When he looked at me now, I felt like a worm in a chicken yard.

  “So, Pal…” he said. “An unusual background. And an unusual choice of assignment, too. Do you think you’ll find glory on the Marches, then?”

  “That’s where I come from, sir,” I said. “I don’t expect glory. But I know there’s places where things aren’t as peaceful as they generally are on Beune, so that’s where I thought I ought to go.”

  I thought of Deltchev asking to be put back in the army, just at a higher rank. We were both asking to go home, I guess.

  “As it chances…” Clain said, looking at a different sheet, “that’s quite true. Though I’m not sure exactly what you’ve let yourself in for. Possibly nothing, of course.”

  His eyes met mine again. “You have a boat of your own, this says?”

  “Yes sir,” I said. “It was sort of an accident.”

  “Well, it’ll save you a lot of time on the Road getting there,” Clain said. “It’s the region around Catermole. We’d like you to spend a month or so there, just patrolling. Within the past generation the region was Not-Here. It only returned to the Commonwealth a year or two ago, and there seems to be a lot of, well, unease. Also two assessors have disappeared.”

  I wondered what it meant to “return to the Commonwealth.” To start paying taxes, I suppose. I could imagine that causing “unease” on Beune. I didn’t think that’d involve disappearing Jon’s tax men, but Beune is more laid-back than a lot of places are.

  “I can talk to people,” I said, “and see what the Roads are like there.”

  I’d heard of Catermole, though I couldn’t recall anybody from Beune actually going there. Still, it can’t have been very far from home.

  “Do that,” Clain said. “Toledana here—”

  He nodded to the clerk who’d given him the file.

  “—will give you guidance to get your boat to Catermole. I don’t know how that works myself.”

  “Neither do I, sir,” I said, “but my boatman’s there by where I was sitting and he can talk to her.”

  I nodded to Toledana, since she was right here. “Ma’am.”

  “Well, that’s all I have for you,” Clain said. “When you’ve figured out what’s going on there—or that nothing is—you come back here and report. Understand?”

  “Yes sir,” I said. There didn’t seem much to understand.

  Clain turned and walked over to Jon, bending beside his chair so that they could talk quietly. I said to Toledana, “Ma’am? If you’ll come here, I’ll point out Baga, my boatman. I’d appreciate it if you’d work out the course with him.”

  We walked to the edge of the stage. I pointed with my whole arm toward Baga. He waved back and started walking toward the stage. The clerk walked briskly down the steps toward him.

  I turned, wondering if I ought to thank the Leader or something like that. The woman kneeling beside the Consort’s chair to talk to her straightened and walked over to me. She was May.

  “Good morning, Pal,” she said. “Are you excited to be going on your first mission?”

  “I guess I’m mostly worried that I won’t do it right,” I said.

  Clain’s instructions were about as simple as they come, but if I didn’t find anything it didn’t mean that I’d succeeded—just that I hadn’t found something. It might still be there, whatever it was. Bandits, likely enough, or maybe even a gang of local farmers who figured they needed what would otherwise go in taxes more than they needed to be part of the Commonwealth.

  I wasn’t worried about something happening to me. I was worried about failing.

  “You’re a clever fellow,” May said, “and quite determined. I think you’ll do just fine.”

  I swallowed. “Thank you, ma’am,” I said. I was wondering what to do now. Check with Baga about getting out early tomorrow, I guess.

  “I haven’t seen much of you recently,” May said. She was wearing a frock like one she had on the first time I saw her.

  “Ma’am!” I said. That was just unfair. “You made it clear as could be that you didn’t want to have anything to do with me!”

  “Maybe I didn’t,” May said. “Then. Take care of yourself, Pal.”

  She turned and walked off the back of the stage by the door Jon and all the leaders had come in by. It was the very same dress! I was sure of it.

  I watched her go out. Then I went down to Baga, who was still talking with Toledana while Maggie watched closely.

  If I couldn’t figure things out in Dun Add any better than I was doing, I wasn’t going to be much use to the Leader on Catermole.

  CHAPTER 22

  Catermole

&nbs
p; Baga made only two stops between Dun Add and Catermole. He said he’d never heard of a boat travelling at that rate on a long run. I told him that his own boat ought to do as well, now that Guntram and I had rebuilt it. He could ask Stefan when next they met.

  I came up from the trance in which I was viewing our surroundings through the boat. I didn’t know how the boat saw things—there wasn’t anything on the outside that looked like a window.

  Baga got up from his seat and looked back at me. “I was just going to wake you, boss,” he said. “We’re here, or I think we are. Want me to open up so we can see what Catermole’s like?”

  “Sure, do that,” I said.

  I already knew that we were at the head of a long street that straggled back at least a half mile. Near where the boat was, there were short parallel streets. Most of the buildings I could see were two-story, with whitewashed boards and shake roofs. A few of those farther back seemed to be of brick and tile.

  I’d told Baga that I could see through the boat when I was in a trance, but he couldn’t—or didn’t let himself—understand that I was seeing more than the gray or russet shades that he saw in the Waste. It was simpler just to accept his assumption that we didn’t have a real view of outside unless the hatch was open. I wouldn’t gain anything by insisting on the truth, and it seemed that it would make Baga uncomfortable…though I wasn’t sure why.

  I was wearing the blue suit today. I would’ve liked to wander around Catermole looking like a farmer from Beune, but since I’d come by boat that would make the locals even more suspicious.

  I was going to have to have more dress suits made up. I wondered what they cost and how long the rest of Frances’s silver was going to last me. Well, one thing at a time, and right now the thing was Catermole.

  Buck and I stepped out. Baga followed us and closed the hatch behind him.

  There were plenty of people among the buildings farther up the street, but the only person nearby on the landingplace was a boy of twelve or so who’d been whirling a wooden bird around him on a long cord. The wings were hinged to go up and down a little as it flew through the air, a clever piece of work.