The Amber Legacy
Page 41
‘I can’t do that,’ he replied.
Meg rose. Westridge was dead. The brutes who’d killed him weren’t human. She wanted them dead. ‘Leave us alone,’ she hissed through her teeth, tears streaming down her cheeks.
‘I can’t do that either,’ her antagonist answered. He raised his right arm, and a dozen archers stepped out of the crowd, bows loaded and trained on each of the prisoners. Two aimed at Meg. ‘It’s a shame and a waste,’ he said. ‘You’re very good.’ And he lowered his arm.
Meg was conjuring. As his arm began its descent, her spell swept through the enemy ranks, a raging river of flame that overwhelmed the crowd, the archers, and their leader. The arrows meant for her whistled wide of their mark as the archers were swallowed by fire. The air filled with the screams of those who survived the explosion. Through the wall of smoke billowing into the evening sky, men ran from the demon the woman had unleashed. Her anger unsheathed, Meg loosed magical fire arrows at escaping individuals, mercilessly cutting them down, until a wave of intense exhaustion sapped her energy. She staggered, almost passing out, and sank to her knees. When she’d caught her breath, and steeled herself to rise, the enemy had retreated and she was momentarily safe.
Smouldering corpses littered the assembly space beyond the bonfire. Little flames still flickered on charred clothing and hair, and the air was tainted with the stench of burned flesh. She turned to the prisoners and was shocked to see two impaled. Eight were staring in amazement at what they’d witnessed. She wanted to release them quickly with an unmaking spell, but the thought of casting overwhelmed her with a strange weariness from deep in her chest. Instead, she searched the corpses for a sword and freed the prisoners one by one. They struggled to stand, their rope bonds having cut the blood to their limbs, but six regained their strength enough to help the two who couldn’t walk because of injuries. Together, they began the descent towards the lights of Greenhill.
Meg walked behind them as they left the smouldering hillside and entered the dark bush. Again, against her will, she’d used magic to kill another host of men. And this time she had enjoyed it. No. She hadn’t actually enjoyed it—not in the sense of fun or happiness. But she had relished the act of revenge. She’d killed randomly for revenge. ‘Having the Blessing for magic does not give you the right to act as Jarudha.’ She remembered Emma’s warning. She had only wanted to save her friends and herself, at first, but the shaman’s cruelty had infected her. Westridge’s horrible murder had enraged her. And she had killed wildly.
An Elite Guard survivor slowed to accompany her. ‘We’re grateful for what you did back there. We knew we were going to die. Thank you, Lady Amber.’ She didn’t know how to respond to the soldier’s heartfelt appreciation. Her guilt dulled the impact of his elation. ‘We owe you our lives,’ he continued. ‘Whatever we can do to repay that debt, we will do for you.’
‘You don’t owe me anything,’ she replied. ‘Let’s just get back to safety.’
The soldier stopped. ‘Lady Amber—this isn’t a good way to go.’ She stopped to hear what he had to say. ‘The enemy still hold this side of the town. Getting across the river will be very difficult.’ The others gathered to listen.
She’d forgotten the obvious. ‘What should we do?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure. We need weapons. If we surprise a small lookout party and take their equipment, we might be able to fight our way through. With your magic.’
The soldier’s intention to fight and kill again made her angry, but she stifled the emotion by biting her lip. ‘I have another way,’ she said. ‘Find me two trees, close together, like a doorway.’
Although the blue haze between the thin twisted mallee trunks was barely tall and wide enough for a man to pass through, it would suffice. But she was less sure of whether or not the portal would transport several people, one at a time. She explained the magical door to the mystified soldiers. ‘You’ll appear outside the town, on the road leading in, the one we came in on this morning. You might feel very sick, but you’ll be safe.’ She hoped that her ability to accurately recall the appearance and position of places was effective at night, because even peering into the portal at close range she still couldn’t discern the land features within. ‘Who wants to go first?’ The soldiers held back until the young man who’d spoken to her volunteered. ‘Just step through, as though you’re going through a door,’ she encouraged. One by one the soldiers squeezed into the blue glow and vanished. The two injured men were half-pushed in by the last two soldiers before they took their turns. And Meg was alone. She listened to the sounds of the night—the breeze rustling the leaves—and shivered, remembering her first portal and the unexpected passage into a world of grey dust and intense blue sky. She was confident she hadn’t made that error again. Her second projection into her palace room had worked, so this would work, too. In the morning, she intended to convince the Warmaster that negotiation with Beranix’s army was still a possible solution to the war. Mindless killing wasn’t useful to either side. How could it be?
Warmaster Waters looked over the assembled troops from the back of his black stallion. ‘Weapons ready!’ he yelled. Leaders relayed his order along the ranks, their voices echoing off walls. He nodded to Meg, before wheeling his horse to lead the army across the bridge towards the southern quarter of the town. Scouts had brought reports to the Warmaster before dawn that the enemy had withdrawn overnight and were heading south. They also reported the carnage they discovered atop the southern hill overlooking the town where Beranix’s main army had camped before beginning the assault on Greenhill. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it, Leader,’ one scout said. ‘Dead bodies everywhere, like they’ve been caught in a fire. The bush is all charred ash.’
‘How many bodies?’ Waters asked.
‘Hundreds, Leader.’
‘We lost count, Leader,’ the second scout added.
Waters had witnessed the fireball the previous evening. The whole army saw it, entranced by the river of flames that danced and exploded across the entire summit of the distant hill. Waters assumed that the barbarian shaman were demonstrating a new and awesome capacity, and his spirit sagged at the prospect awaiting his army when Beranix’s troops recommenced the siege in the morning. He’d received the disturbing news that the female Seer, Lady Amber, along with her Elite Guards, had been captured by the enemy in the retreat, and didn’t like facing the task of relaying that news to the Queen. And then came the miracle. Lady Amber and eight of the missing soldiers appeared on the northern side of town, out of the night air. The men told him how they’d watched her set the earth and the bush and the sky ablaze to destroy Beranix’s shaman and soldiers—a story so fantastical that he’d refused to believe it, until the scouts corroborated it with their reports. When the sun rose, the southern riverbank and quarter of the town were silent and empty. Beranix’s soldiers had disappeared. Although he suspected a trap, Warmaster Waters couldn’t resist the chance to seize the initiative and push back Beranix’s troops. Lady Amber’s magical power had terrified the enemy into retreat.
Meg watched the riders pass. The early morning sunlight shone on their armour, giving them a momentary gloss befitting ballad heroes going into battle. She hoped none of them would need to fight. The scouts’ news pained and pleased her. Against her will, she had used magic to slay another host of men—and that made her miserable. But if the enemy had retreated after the night’s events the war was near its end, and that made her hopeful. The soldiers filed past after the cavalry, a river of bearded faces. Some were grim. Some were laughing and talking to their comrades. The passing men reminded her of the soldiers who’d befriended Wombat and herself before the Battle of The Whispering Forest, the Group that Blade led, and she wondered where they were since the Battle of Kangaroo Ridge. She’d promised to meet with Blade on Kangaroo Ridge, but events had conspired against them. How many of the young men marching by had wives or girlfriends? she wondered. How many had mothers waiting for them to return?
‘Lady Amber?’ a voice asked. She turned to the soldier, noting the white scar running through his eyebrows. ‘Lady Amber, there is a soldier who says he knows you.’
‘Where is he?’ she asked.
‘He’s waiting at the corner. He said his Group is the last to go.’
‘Did he give you his name?’
‘He said you would know him, Lady Amber. Button Tailor.’
Meg’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Take me to him,’ she ordered. As she followed the soldier, her mind raced through everything that had transpired since the fateful arrival of the Queen’s army in Summerbrook more than a year past. She hadn’t thought of Button enough since he’d been led away in chains. Button had begun to be her first love, but he left, and Treasure came, and erased him from her heart. And, since Treasure’s death, she hadn’t thought much of anyone—only Westridge—and now he was dead, too. What would Button think of her?
Rounding a building, she stopped. Five soldiers stood on the roadside, a couple of paces from the passing troops. At first glance, no one looked like Button, until a man stepped forward, and asked tentatively, ‘Meg?’ She recognised the blue eyes. Like most of the soldiers, he was bearded, but his long dark hair was shorter than she remembered. Something was missing, but she couldn’t determine what it was. ‘Your hair isn’t as long as it used to be,’ he said.
‘Neither is yours,’ she replied. What could she say?
He glanced at the other men, and said, ‘This is Wanderer, Meat, Leader Marketeer and Breeze.’
Meg acknowledged them. To Button, she said, ‘I didn’t know what had happened to you.’
‘Too much,’ he replied. ‘I told my friends I knew you when I saw you ride in, but they laughed. When they said your name was Lady Amber, I was confused. I wanted to come and see you, to make sure I wasn’t imagining things, and they all thought I was crazy.’ He paused, studying her intently. ‘But it is you.’
‘It’s been a long time.’
‘I’ve thought about you all the time.’
Meg blushed. ‘I’m glad to see you’re not—’ She stumbled on her words.
‘Not dead?’ he asked. ‘Not quite.’
‘Tailor?’ Leader Marketeer stepped forward. ‘Time to go.’
Button nodded. To Meg, he said, ‘I’m glad to see you’re safe and well.’ He leaned in conspiratorially, adding, ‘I’m going back to Summerbrook after this war. No one’s going to stop me, not this time.’ He straightened, and said, ‘Goodbye, Meg. I won’t forget you.’ He rejoined his Group, and Leader Marketeer led them into the street behind the rest of the army.
Meg watched the men march towards the bridge, her gaze fixed on Button Tailor’s back. She’d failed him. All this time he’d thought constantly of her, while she had all but forgotten him. Guilt gnawed her conscience. And then she realised what was different about him. He hadn’t smiled once in their brief meeting. The young man she had known was gone. His face carried the soldier’s burden of war.
PART NINE
‘When once I went a-wandering across the bush country
that there a youthful soldier
with red hair I did see
though there I was mistaken
for no soldier did I see
but a weaver of wild magic
and a woman full pretty…’
FROM ‘THE BALLAD OF THE LADY AMBER’, ANONYMOUS
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The war was over—at least the fighting had ended. Warmaster Waters’ army followed Beranix’s troops back to the original border separating the two kingdoms, neither army engaging the other except in minor skirmishes when scouts and isolated groups accidentally encountered each other. The return journey to Port of Joy turned into celebration. Locals, and refugees, waved to Meg and her escorting soldiers, and by the time they entered the city news of the victory had spread to everyone. People lined the streets to cheer the red-haired saviour, chanting ‘Am-ber’ as she passed. A Royal honour guard greeted Meg’s retinue as it crossed King’s Bridge, and Queen Sunset was waiting with the Elite Guards on the palace steps. The Queen embraced Meg when she dismounted and whisked her into the palace, and ordered her to bathe before coming to the War Chamber to debrief.
The bath was ready when she entered her chambers. Whisper scampered across the floor and leapt into her hands, and scrambled up to nestle under her chin, much to the handmaidens’ amusement, and Meg was overcome with tears of happiness to be reunited with her pet.
‘Very impressive,’ said Seer Diamond. ‘So Amber single-handedly sent Beranix’s army into panicked retreat.’
Queen Sunset was smiling graciously, the smile she reserved for when she knew she had proven a very important point to her doubters. ‘According to Warmaster Waters’ reports, not only did she defeat Beranix’s army but in the process she killed more than six hundred soldiers at Greenhill and at least another thousand at Kangaroo Ridge.’ Meg winced at the Queen’s numerical assessment as it sparked the guilt she carried for the deaths of the soldiers killed by her spells, and she averted her gaze from the old Seer. Queen Sunset pointed to the kingdom map on the table. ‘At yesterday’s report, Beranix’s soldiers had withdrawn to this line. We’re expecting to receive a herald, today or tomorrow, with a request for a truce.’ She fixed Diamond with a steely stare. ‘You have, in your presence, Diamond, a person with greater power than anyone in this kingdom, someone who can do what you and your brethren have only dreamed of doing. Will you accept her as a Seer?’
Diamond stared back, his mouth firmly set, his brow wrinkled by the Queen’s challenge, but before he could answer, Meg interrupted. ‘I don’t want to be a Seer.’
Sunset wheeled. ‘What?’
‘I don’t want to be a Seer,’ Meg repeated calmly.
‘Why not?’ Diamond asked.
She looked at him, and said, with determination, ‘I don’t want to be like you.’
Diamond’s face flushed red. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I don’t want to be like you,’ she repeated.
Diamond sputtered indignantly, anger bristling. ‘You could never be like me, girl! I am Jarudha’s devoted disciple. That’s something you are not, and something you could never be! Never!’ He peremptorily bowed to the Queen. ‘With respect, Your Majesty, but I will not suffer this insolence—this rude and calculated insult. I said she was an abomination from the outset. Your military advisers may have convinced you that she has magical powers of the magnitude you’ve described, but I frankly think it’s exaggerated ballad-mongering. May I have permission to leave, Your Majesty?’
The Queen withheld her response, deliberately keeping the old Seer uncomfortably in his bow. Finally, she said, ‘You don’t often ask for my permission, Diamond. Why make an exception now?’
The Seer lifted his head, eyes sparkling like brittle gems. ‘Your Majesty, with all respect, Jarudha is my Lord and master. To Him I give my entire obedience. So, too, do I obey you, but only in this earthly realm. In Paradise, no such division between you or I will exist.’
‘In your Paradise, Seer Diamond, according to your own scripture, no division will exist between men and women either,’ Sunset reminded him. ‘And you might well heed another piece of scripture. Tell me if you recognise it: “He who uses the rod to whip the child returns the punishment upon himself.” Familiar?’
‘It’s dangerous to quote The Word out of context, Your Majesty.’
‘Predictable and worn-out retort,’ Sunset said. ‘You have permission to leave.’ She waited until the door to the War Room closed before she spoke to Meg. ‘And exactly what are you trying to prove?’ she demanded.
‘I meant what I said,’ Meg replied. ‘I don’t want to be a Seer. I don’t want to be like Diamond, or Vale, or Light.’
‘You’re nothing like them,’ Sunset argued. ‘That’s the point. You could change the Order, give it a more human face, save Jarudha from the misogynistic grasp of men who think faith is the preserve of the penis.’
‘But you have been blessed. You are the Conduit. You use magic because it’s who you are, Amber.’
‘My name is Meg.’ The Queen stared. ‘My name is Meg,’ she repeated. ‘I come from Summerbrook. I’m the daughter of Jon and Dawn Farmer. I’m a farmer like my father. Don’t call me by the name they gave me.’
The Queen looked genuinely contrite. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Your name is Meg. And you are right to refuse that other name. But you can’t deny who you’ve become. No one has ever single-handedly driven an army out of my kingdom. It wasn’t a farmer’s daughter who broke through the Seers’ magical protection and killed my foolish son. The one thing you are not, Meg, is a farmer like your father. You are someone much more special. And you can’t change that.’
‘I don’t want to be anything like that. Can’t you understand? I wasn’t born to kill other people. I didn’t come here to fight your wars. I hate what you’re all trying to turn me into. I won’t play your games anymore!’ She burst into tears and sank to the floor, sobbing, angry at herself for losing her self-control, angry at the world for making her someone she refused to be. She felt gentle hands rest on her shoulders, but she shrugged them away. The last thing she wanted from the Queen, from anyone, was sympathy. Too many people had died at her hands. Too many people she loved were dead because of her.
When she caught her breath and looked up, she discovered that she was alone in the War Room. She hadn’t heard the Queen leave or the doors close. She wiped her nose and cheeks and got to her feet. The late afternoon sun angling through the palace windows gave the room a warm glow. She’d made a fool of herself with her petulant outburst, she decided, and she owed Queen Sunset an apology. But she meant everything she said. Knowing what she did about the Seers, she would never agree to join their ranks. Even if she believed she could initiate the social and political changes in attitude to gender that Sunset held so dear, in the end she knew that nothing could be changed. The Seers’ secret commitment to a religious ideology bound them to ultimately seek domination of the world in Jarudha’s name. And it was a new world for men who condemned women and magic.