A light suddenly appeared at the doorway, illuminating the forms of two soldiers sprawled on the floor. One was bleeding profusely from the nose. A man’s voice called out, “What’s going on in there?”
The dark uniformed man stepped into the room, holding an oil lamp. He bore a Captain’s insignia.
Keris faced him squarely. “You are Sallidor.”
The Captain squinted at her by the lamp’s lambent light. “Keltar?”
She glanced at the soldiers, who were by now helping each other up from the floor. One was still clutching his bloody nose. “May I ask why your men do not issue the customary challenge, but attack on sight like scaran beasts?”
It was a moment before Sallidor found his voice. “My apologies, Keltar, but this is a secure area. We did not know you were here.” He seemed to recover his courage somewhat. “May I ask the purpose of your presence here?”
“That should be obvious, even to you. I am conducting an investigation into the events of three days ago.”
“My men and I were sent here to–”
“I know why you are here, Captain. I also know that you executed the proprietor of this establishment. Why?”
“He refused to give any information.”
Keris had a strong urge to shake the man by the throat. “Well, he certainly won’t be giving us any information now, will he?”
Sallidor seemed lost for words. She changed tack. “What have you uncovered about the girl that worked here?”
“Only that she worked in the kitchens. She eluded our soldiers and was seen leaving the town by the West Gate.”
The West Gate… The West Gate… her mind worked rapidly. The road to Lind. That was the girl’s likely destination, then. She would need to head there first thing tomorrow.
She came to another decision. “This investigation is now being conducted by the Keltar. You have new orders, Captain. You and your men are to withdraw from the town first thing tomorrow morning. You will return to Chalimar and report to Mordal on arrival there.”
“Yes, but–”
Keris shut her eyes and raised her voice in an expression of exaggerated patience. “Do you understand the orders you have been given?”
“Yes, Keltar.”
“Then carry out your orders.”
“Yes, Keltar.”
“Now leave…and take these men with you.”
Moments later, she was alone again in the dim chamber. She felt sick to her stomach, again. Another man dead. Another casual murder. Was this really all a part of the Prophet`s grand vision? She felt as if she were being swept up and borne along by forces she could not control. She had to put a stop to all of this somehow. Maybe she could put her concerns to Mordal when she returned to the keep? He did not seem concerned at all by the loss of the “tributes.” What makes you think anyone will listen?
She was struck by another thought. What will happen to the girl if I take her into custody and bring her back to the keep? Keris had no answers. All she could do was to follow her mission’s path and see where it led her.
She climbed out onto the window ledge, and leapt into the caliginous night.
Chapter 4
Shann rose slowly toward consciousness and opened her eyes. Shafts of light were filtering through closed shutters, playing over the cot where she lay. The room was small, with a single stool next to the bed and a hearth opposite, presently unlit.
She closed her eyes again, recalling her flight the previous night, and how she had been taken in by Alondo and Hedda. They seemed kind, and Hedda reminded her of Gallar. I wonder how she and Poltann are– if they are worrying about me. Perhaps I should try to get word to them somehow to let them know I’m all right?
She sat up in bed and saw that she was wearing a grey nightshirt. With a start, she realised that she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten to bed last night. Someone had apparently carried her here, undressed her and put her in night attire. The bandage on her ankle was gone also. She felt a wave of embarrassment.
There was a light knock at the door, and Hedda entered.
“I see my brave little one is awake.” There was that word again. “How are you feeling this morning?” Hedda crossed the room and opened the shutters, allowing sunlight to wash into the room
“I’m fine, thank you.” Shann replied, squinting at the illumination of day. She ran a hand through her short dark hair.
“How’s the ankle?”
Shann flexed the joint experimentally beneath the sheet. “Better, I think.”
“That’s good. Are you hungry?”
Shann`s stomach informed her that she was in fact famished. She nodded.
“There’s something on the stove for you when you’re ready.” Hedda laid out garments at the end of the bed. “I’m afraid I don’t have any clothes your size. There are some of Alondo`s clothes for now. They will be a bit baggy, I’m afraid, but they should do–at least, until we can get you something more suitable.”
“I don’t know how to thank you for last night,” Shann began.
The older woman smiled. “Nonsense, I’m just glad you made it here, and we found you safe. If you are feeling well enough, I thought we might take a little trip.”
She sounded as if she were proposing a vacation or a sightseeing tour.
“Trip?”
“Yes, the gentleman you assisted last evening would very much like to meet you.”
“Where is he?”
“Not far. Why don’t you hurry up and get dressed?”
~
Later that morning, Shann sat alongside Alondo and Hedda as their cart rumbled out from Lind and onto a winding country road. Wayside flowers unfurled their petals, and small birds pecked at the warming soil, affirming that spring was now well underway. Ail-Gan bathed the landscape in its bright yellow effulgence. In the distance farmers toiled in the fields and domestic animals grazed contentedly. It all seemed so at odds with the happenings of last night, as if those events had taken place on a different world and in a different time.
“If we should be stopped by soldiers,” Hedda had told her at the house, “you should say you are a cousin of mine, visiting from Kinnat.”
Shann nodded. “Hedda, the man I met last night in Corte, the man who gave me the disc. Who is he?
“His name is Lyall. He and Alondo have been friends since they were children. They’ve been getting into trouble together ever since.”
“Why did he attack the Keltar?”
“As to that…it would be better if you asked him yourself. You will be seeing him soon enough.” She placed a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder.
Shann found it remarkable that she felt able to trust these people so completely, despite having known them for less than a day.
She could readily understand why she was drawn to Hedda. The loss of her own mother at so early an age caused her to be naturally drawn to anyone who seemed to fill that void. But she also felt an affinity toward Alondo that was harder to explain.
She had never had a brother. What was more, Alondo was unlike any brother she could have imagined ever having. His absurd hat was still perched precariously. Shann found herself wondering how it managed to stay on his head, what with the cart’s jerky motion.
But there was something that piqued her curiosity even more. He had slung over his shoulder what looked like a musical instrument, although it looked like nothing she had ever seen before.
It was pear-shaped, like a large mandolin, with a fretless fingerboard. The neck and bridge were arrayed with what looked like a mind-numbingly complex arrangement of keys and levers. She could not imagine why he had brought the thing along, unless it was to allay suspicion from them as a group. In her opinion, it was more likely to draw undue attention.
“Are you a musician?” she asked him.
“You noticed,” he replied cheerfully.
“What type of instrument is that?”
“It’s an excuse to avoid work; that’s what it is,??
? Hedda interjected.
Alondo smiled tolerantly. “It’s based on a sabada, but it’s actually my own design. It has one or two unusual…features. Maybe you would like to hear it?”
Shann`s face brightened. She had always loved music. “Oh, yes, please!”
Alondo handed the reins to his mother as if to prove her point, and then jumped into the back of the cart. Seated comfortably against the backboard, he cradled the instrument gently like a dearly loved pet, and made a few practiced adjustments.
“Do you know this one?” he shouted to those behind him. Without waiting for a reply, he sounded an opening chord and launched into a light baritone.
“Let me tell you now of a girl I knew,
“With lovely eyes of the fairest blue,
“Green skin as fresh as the morning dew,
“With a hi hey diddle diddle hey.
“I met her down on the market square,
“The sunlight danced in her auburn hair,
“Oh ne’r had I seen a maid so fair,
“With a hi hey diddle diddle hey……”
The girls joined in the chorus, as the cart creaked from side to side and rumbled on into the distance.
Insects buzzed and danced together like motes in the warm spring air.
~
“My name is Lyall. I’m very happy to meet you at last.”
Shann was sitting in the kitchen of a generously proportioned farmhouse. Copper pots of all sizes hung from the walls. She sat before a large wooden table with her hands folded in her lap, looking up into the eyes of the stranger she had met in Corte. They were as blue as she remembered, and there was the unruly sandy hair, but he seemed taller somehow. He winced a little as he sat down opposite her. She recalled the wound left by the Keltar`s stabbing thrust.
“Are you all right?”
“Actually, Moina tells me it’s only superficial. I only wish it felt superficial.” He adjusted his seating position again, gritting his teeth as he did so. “It will be a day or so before I’ll be leaping across rooftops again.”
“Longer if you don’t learn to sit still.” An older woman stood at the kitchen door. She had dark hair with silver streaks and wore a workmanlike green dress and white apron. “Hedda and Alondo are going to help me with the animals. Can you keep our guest company for a while?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Moina turned in Shann’s direction, adding with strained patience, “And try to keep him from tearing his wound open again.” She turned on her heel and left.
Lyall shrugged. “My mother’s sister,” he declared, as if that were the only explanation that were necessary.
His bright blue eyes seemed to pierce through to the centre of her being. She felt as if she were glass. “I am told you are called Shann.”
Shann sat looking at her hands still folded in her lap. She nodded.
“Well I’m very grateful to you, Shann. I might not have made it out of there alive if you hadn’t helped me. You did so at the risk of your own life. May I ask why?”
Shann moved her hand to the side of her face, recalling the day the soldiers had taken her parents away. I wanted them to leave my parents alone. She raised her eyes to meet Lyall. “I wanted it to stop–the tributes, all of it. I wanted to fight them.”
Lyall’s voice was quiet. “I can help you do that, if you wish.”
Shann felt confused. She had no idea how she should respond. Eventually, she found her voice again. “Why did you do it? Why did you take on a Keltar and a troop of soldiers?”
Lyall smiled at her. “It was a bit mad, wasn’t it? I surely didn’t plan it that way. It was just that one of the young women in the ‘tribute’ group–she…reminded me of someone.”
He seemed anxious to change the subject. “Did you know any of them?”
“No, not really. I knew who one of the girls was, but I had never spoken to her.”
“I believe I can make it stop, Shann.”
“You cannot fight the Keltar. They are the eyes and ears of the Prophet. There is no way to resist them. What happened to you proves that.”
“I acted without thinking. Besides, I had no way of knowing he would have grenades with him. Otherwise the outcome might have been rather different.” He paused. “The key to defeating a tyrant–any tyrant–is to understand the source of their power. Once you do that, you can manipulate it; even use their own power against them.”
He leaned forward. “Shann, do you know what lodestones are?”
“No.”
“Actually, you do. I gave you one in Corte, so that you could be recognised.” The disc. Alondo had returned it to her that morning, and she pulled it from her pocket. She noted again a slight resistance as she did so. She placed it on the table in front of her. “To be totally accurate, what you have there is what we call refined lodestone. Just as iron is smelted from ore, so this is what you get from lodestone ore.”
“Lodestone ore?”
“Yes, it falls from the sky. You have seen the meteor storms?” She nodded. Scores of fireballs streaking across the heavens and winking out. They were visible most nights.
“Refined lodestone has powerful properties. What you have there is one kind–a kind that is used to power their flying cloaks and some of their other devices. But there is nothing mysterious about it. The Keltar have been taught by the Prophet how to use it, nothing more.”
Shann frowned. “So what you are saying is that anyone can use their power, even me?”
“That’s right.”
“How does it work?” Her voice was eager.
Lyall took another disc out of his pocket. It looked exactly like hers; black but with an oddly undefined surface that seemed to shift as she viewed it from different angles.
“Originally, lodestones were the name given to a type of rock that would naturally attract iron. They can be used to impart a force to the iron that makes it point in only one direction.” Shann had heard of such devices used by travellers to help find their way. “The same word came to be used to describe the stones that fell from the sky, but they are in fact quite different. You have two discs there; try to push them together.”
Shann picked them up and did so. There was a strong repulsive force between them, getting stronger the closer she brought them together. She frowned again. “I can’t do it.”
“That’s right. Now try this.” He reached in his pocket again and brought out another disc, but this one was white. “This is an ordinary metal. It’s coloured white just to distinguish it from the lodestone. Try bringing it and the lodestone together.”
This time, the lodestone felt pulled towards the white disc, but the white disc seemed to be pushed away.
“Lodestones repel everything, including ordinary stones or metal. So they can be used to push things; objects, people, anything really.”
“They sound like the Kal stones.”
“You mean the account of the flying stone, the one in the sacred texts?”
“Yes. How is that possible?”
Lyall reached into his pocket once more. He brought out two more lodestones, one a disc, the other a small sphere like a marble. She watched intently as he carefully arranged the three discs on the table in the shape of a triangle. Then he carefully placed the marble in mid-air over the three stones. It floated, seemingly without support, subtle shades of darkness playing furtively over its smooth surface.
Shann`s eyes were wide. “So it really did happen.”
“Possibly. I’ve never seen a Kal stone myself and I don’t know anyone who has. No doubt that’s because the system is inherently–” He knocked the marble with his finger, and it fell to the table and rolled onto the floor. “–unstable.”
She bent down to retrieve the marble from the floor and handed it back to Lyall. “Thanks.” He placed it back in his pocket and gathered up two of the discs, leaving one on the table. “Let’s try something else, shall we? Have you noticed that lodestone feels a bit funny w
hen you handle it?”
“It seems to pull against you a little,” she noted.
“Right. Try to give it a little push with your finger. Shann did so, but to her utter surprise, instead of moving away, it moved towards her. Lyall registered her puzzled look. “Now pull it towards you slightly.”
She reached out and pulled it back sharply with two of her fingers. It shot forward across the table, hitting Lyall in the midriff and landing in his lap. She put her hand to her mouth.
“I said ‘slightly,’” he chided.
He put the disc back on the table. “They move in the opposite direction to whatever force is applied to them. When you understand how they operate, you can use lodestones in various different ways. The Keltar`s flying cloak is just one example.”
“The flying cloak–tell me how it works.” Her voice was insistent.
“Is he trying to get you up in one of those things?” It was Alondo, cap and all, smiling as ever. He was standing at the kitchen door.
“I gave you the chance.”
“The chance to break my neck. Thanks for that.” He turned towards Shann and covered his mouth conspiratorially, “If I were you, I wouldn’t go near one of those things.”
“Don’t you have anything pressing to do?”
Alondo looked at the backs of his hands, pulled up a spare stool and sat down next to Shann, grinning from ear to ear. “Not right now.”
Lyall raised his eyes heavenward. Then he addressed Shann, doing his best to ignore his friend. “The power of the Keltar, the power of the Prophet himself–it derives from the lodestones. I intend to take that power away.”
Her expression was rapt. “How?”
“Do you know the fortress of Gort?”
Gort. Death and despair. The very name was enough to send a shiver down her spine, even though she had never set eyes on it. Raising itself up like a ravenous beast from the desolate sands of the Southern Desert, it devoured those who passed through its cavernous maw. Travellers spoke of it as being built from the bleached bones of those who had expired from heat and exhaustion.
“I know that most of the ‘tributes’ are sent there.”
“Do you know why?”