Sear shared out tough, stale strips of dried meat from his pouch. Merlin managed to conceal two strips under her tunic, reckoning that she would not find it easy to come by food if she did manage to get away.
Listening to the talk, she guessed they were approaching the region surrounding the domed city Ford had mentioned. By the sound of it, Sear planned for them to give the dome a wide berth.
Merlin found herself wondering if she had done the wrong thing in evading the Citizens. Perhaps it would be better to simply head for the dome and give herself up.
‘I am a fool to hope, I know, but that is one of the few saving graces of human beings,’ the William voice whispered inside her mind.
Sear had begun to talk, and Merlin drifted nearer, curious.
‘I will get inside the dome. I will find out what happens to our people, and what I learn will help me free the clans from the lies and tyranny of the Offering,’ Sear was telling a group of scatterlings.
‘And if the clans prefer the security of immortality in the forbidden city to the uncertainty of death?’ Marthe asked with heavy irony. ‘You will force your freedom on them?’
‘What immortality?’ Sear demanded. ‘This immortality they offer the clans is a lie. Only a fool chooses to live by lies. And the Lord wardens are worse than fools. They betray our people for dreams.’
‘What of the wardens? They do not drink the visiondraught given by the Citizen gods,’ said one of the others.
Standing beside Sear, Ford answered: ‘True. They sell their souls for the power the Offering gives them over the people, and discredit the mindbond so they will not have to bare their own deception to one they would judge.’
Era lifted her chin angrily and turned to face Ford. ‘It began when the Lord wardens decreed they would accept wordbond from the Citizen gods, rather than demand mindbond.’
‘The Lord warden of our clan said we had no right to demand mindbond of a god; that a god is truth,’ said another.
Sear laughed harshly. ‘No one is beyond the truth. If I did not think so, I would not have turned my back on clan and Conclave. I would now be a Blessed Walker. Instead, I have killed three of the Citizen gods!’ He spat the final words out with real hatred.
Marthe smiled her strange bitter smile. ‘If what you say is true, then the wardens will not hear the truth when you bring it to them. The Lord wardens will have you executed.’
Sear shook his head, looking abruptly tired. ‘What do you want me to say, Marthe? I am no warden with a sweet and convenient tongue. I see that this Offering is evil. I cannot accept that the clans must live by lies. I have to make them see the truth. If force is needed, then so be it.’
‘Can anyone be made to see the truth?’ Marthe asked, unexpectedly gentle.
Sear frowned savagely. ‘The world has changed since the Citizen gods came with their Offering and their visiondraught. It has become uglier. Words alone will not heal this wound. I will find out the truth and I will bring it to the clans. Then I will deal with the wardens.’
‘Are you so sure the freeing of our people is the only reason you hunger to enter the forbidden city?’ Marthe asked Sear. ‘It seems to me you hunger too much for the Citizen gods’ power.’
Sear gave her a hot look. ‘Our people would benefit from the skills and powers of the Citizen gods.’
‘Are you sure of that? And it will be a simple matter? To master the power before they find you and kill you?’
Sear ignored this. ‘We must capture a Citizen god and demand mindbond so that we will know how to enter the dome.’
‘We have tried that. Their minds are closed and they always die too soon to tell us anything,’ Ford said.
Sear nodded eagerly. ‘They die because we tear their white skins. We must capture one without breaking the skin. We can force them to speak.’
‘And if you do manage to get into the city? What then?’
Sear looked at Marthe challengingly. ‘I told you. I will find proof and weapons. When the clans know the truth, they will fight the Offering.’
‘And what then? If you gobble up the power of the Citizen gods, will you become another Citizen god to dominate the clans?’ Marthe asked.
‘I have no hunger for such powers,’ Sear said wearily. ‘But I will rule my own life. The clans must return to the honour of mindbond.’
‘Perhaps the wardens drove us out so that we might discover the truth without fear of retaliation from the Citizen gods or from the Lord wardens,’ Marthe said.
Sear gave her a startled look. ‘You think that?’
Marthe shrugged. ‘I say only that many things are possible. Would all the wardens be power-hungry traitors? Perhaps there is no other way for them to oppose the Lord wardens.’
‘It is a thing I had not thought,’ Sear said. He glanced at Ford. ‘We must explore this possibility with Bramble.’
Ford nodded.
‘Whatever their reasons, the Offering is an abomination,’ Era said. ‘Those who supported it will resist the truth because it must mean the end of their domination. When we have won, we must force the wardens to mindbond, and those who hide their eyes from the truth will die. Their blood will be barter for the Blessed Walkers.’
Merlin looked at Era, shocked at her easy acceptance of killing. She was bewildered by all she had heard. It seemed the leaders of the clanpeople had permitted the Offering. Again Merlin wished she could simply ask what the Offering was. But she dared not expose her lies. Sear had sounded a little mad when he cursed the Citizen gods for lying. He seemed to have a violent hatred of lies. What if he discovered she had lied? She looked around and found herself staring into Ford’s troubled face across the clearing.
‘Merlin?’
She gaped. She had distinctly heard Ford say her name, but his lips had not moved.
‘Why do you refuse to Accept me? How do you close your mind like the Citizen gods?’ she heard him ask.
Again his lips did not move and Merlin realised, amazed, that he was reproaching her telepathically.
‘Merlin?’.
‘Merlin?’ Sear repeated aloud, coming up behind her. She started violently.
‘I suppose all of this is a shock to you? When I first left, I did not fully understand how it was. We have learned much about the Citizen gods and the Offering. But we do not have proof that the Offering is a lie and so we remain outcasts. But we will not be outcasts forever.’
Merlin nodded faintly, wishing someone else would call Sear’s attention before she betrayed herself in ignorance. She was still reeling mentally from Ford’s use of telepathy.
Sear smiled. ‘Ford Sent to me that you were an asker of questions, like him. It is not an easy thing to be. But perhaps this time it has saved your life. Life among the scatterlings is not soft, but it is better to live hard with honour than to bask in soft lies. After mindbonding, you will truly be one of us. There is pain, but the rumours that say mindbonding is harmful were begun by the Lord wardens to end the practice. You need not fear it.’ He smiled, patted her shoulder and announced the break was over.
Merlin hoped she did not look as frightened as she felt. Sear’s words underlined her danger and increased her desire to get away from the scatterlings. Ford’s telepathy terrified her, for it was clear the mindbond meant some sort of telepathic communication. What would they do when they discovered she was not telepathic?
‘It is possible in the future that human beings will make better use of their large brains, and that such abilities as telepathy and telekinesis will become as commonplace as ordinary speech,’ offered her inner voice.
Merlin wondered if all the scatterlings were telepathic. That would explain the long silences she had noticed between them. The Citizens were not telepathic. Ford had said their minds were closed. Merlin shivered with fear at the thought that the scatterlings might think she was a Citizen. She felt sick with fright realising Ford must have tried before to reach her. He had been puzzled by her lack of response, but he had not told
anyone else yet.
Merlin felt the now familiar prickling feeling that warned she was being watched. Ford had come up behind her.
He looked at her questioningly. ‘How do you close your mind to me? I feel your thoughts drawing away. Is this something the Sea Region clans can do?’
‘I’m tired,’ Merlin stammered idiotically.
He frowned. ‘I have never heard of such an ability. Do you hide your mind because I did not ask aloud for mindbonding? I know it is the traditional way.’
Merlin bit her lip, searching for words. She realised Ford thought she chose not to communicate telepathically with him. It had not occurred to him she was unable to respond. He seemed to find an answer in her silence.
‘Perhaps it’s me you reject, rather than my Sendings.’
Merlin blinked at the hurt in his voice. She bit her lip, unable to tell him the truth. ‘I hardly know you,’ she said weakly.
‘I thought our hunger for knowing made us kindred spirits,’ Ford said. ‘Perhaps you are afraid of mindbond. There is little pain, and is is not like ordinary pain. I would offer to make the mindbond at the Hide, if you will it.’
Merlin licked her lips. ‘If we are friends . . .’ she began, intending to ask him for help, but he would not let her finish.
‘I speak of the mating heat, and you speak of friendship?’ He sounded affronted.
Merlin gaped. Mating heat? She had thought they were talking about telepathy.
‘Ware,’ Marthe said loudly in a dull voice. She held up her hand and Merlin heard the trees rustle nearby.
A girl in a grubby white shift stepped out from the trees and glided towards them. She passed within a hair’s width of Sear, but did not glance at him. The others moved aside quickly, giving her a clear passage through their midst. She looked at no one. Her mouth hung slackly open. A dribble of saliva ran down her chin and onto her grubby bodice. Her eyes were small dusty pebbles, completely expressionless.
‘The Citizen gods fly. We must split up. Two’s company, three’s dead,’ Marthe said, when the girl had gone.
Two’s company . . .’ began the internal voice, but Merlin repressed it savagely, her thoughts full of the blank-faced girl. The scatterlings seemed more saddened than surprised at her extraordinary appearance and disappearance, so Merlin dared not ask who she was.
Ford moved towards Merlin, but Marthe stepped between them. ‘She will travel with me,’ she told him firmly.
Ford looked mutinous, but then his face cleared. Merlin guessed Marthe had said something to him telepathically. They all left in pairs a few minutes apart. Merlin and Marthe were last to go.
When they were alone, the dark-haired girl turned to Merlin. ‘You had better go now, while you have the chance.’
‘I knew at once that you were not a refugee from the Seaside Region,’ Marthe said. ‘It was obvious you were hiding something. The others might have seen it too, except they were too full of excitement about the crash of the flier. I saw the truth only because I Remembered your coming from my dream: a stranger – strange to us and to herself – with no knowledge of our ways, who would come among us.’
‘Remembered? You mean, you knew I was going to come? You could see the future?’ Merlin asked, astounded.
‘I wish I could see into the future,’ the William voice confided wistfully.
‘Precognition has never been proven conclusively . . .’ the metallic voice said caustically.
Merlin clamped down her thoughts, silencing the voices.
Marthe’s face was impassive and ascetic. ‘I have the gift of Remembering what has passed and what will come to pass.’
‘Then you knew I lied to Ford and the others. Why didn’t you expose me?’
‘It is not the way of Rememberers to act without reason. I have considered your coming, and having considered, it came to me that you must leave us.’
Merlin hardly heard her words. ‘If you can see the past and you knew I was coming, then you must know who I am and where I come from!’
Marthe gave her a cold look. ‘Remembering is not a certain art, and there is much I fail to Remember, or to understand clearly, and much that may not be told. I say only that you are the stranger who was to come among us. I have seen that should you reach the Hide, you will fail the truth-testing of mindbond, and you will be killed, as will Ford, who chooses to bind his fate to yours with his acceptance of wordbond.’ She frowned. ‘That was something I did not foresee, but he has a touch of Remembering too, though it is usually a feminine gift. He is fascinated with you, because he senses you are different, and his heart draws him always to the unknown. He mistakes his hunger for knowledge for the mating hunger. He does not, or will not, see that you represent darkness and despair for him and for us. Great danger and chaos follow with you like a stealthy shadow. And so I tell you: Go! Take your burden of strife away from us!’
Merlin swallowed a lump in her throat. ‘You . . . you must have me muddled up with someone else. Sure I lied about who I am, but only because I don’t know who I am. You make me sound like a monster.’
Marthe held up her hands. ‘Weave your web of words in other ears than mine. I have seen that you are the great liar. You wanted to leave so strongly – I heard you – so now go.’
‘Where can I go?’ Merlin asked, frightened by the queer ominous predictions of the swarthy Rememberer. To her mortification, she burst into tears.
After a long moment, she scrubbed the tears from her eyes and cheeks, humiliated that Marthe might think she had cried deliberately. But Marthe’s expression had softened fractionally.
‘I have seen you enter the Valley of Conclave. Perhaps you are meant to find your answers there,’ she said.
‘A meeting?’ Merlin asked, trying to sound calm.
‘Much more than a meeting,’ Marthe said. ‘There will be many hundreds of clanfolk there, from all over the land. They travel across the Region of Sands to take part in or to watch the ceremonies, to seek wisdom, to barter goods and services. Some will have gathered in the Valley of Conclave already, and others will be travelling there still. Conclave will convene in three days.’
‘Won’t they know I’m not one of them?’ Merlin asked uncertainly.
Marthe shook her head. ‘If you are careful, no one will recognise that you are a stranger, for customs differ greatly between clans and each clan will think you belong to another. But you must not call attention to yourself. If you are revealed to be clanless, you will be executed as an exile who made the mistake of trying to rejoin the clans, or worse. Stay away from anyone wearing black robes, for they are Rememberers, and may know.’ Marthe drew her ragged shawl around scrawny shoulders. Fleetingly she looked more like an old woman than a girl. Merlin realised the Rememberer was about to depart and was suddenly terrified of being left alone.
‘What will you tell Sear?’ she asked.
Marthe looked over her shoulder austerely. ‘That does not concern you. A Rememberer is a sacred advisor and is not questioned. Know that if you are found by Sear or any of the scatterlings, they will probably kill you.’
‘Kill me?’ Merlin said aghast. ‘Why didn’t you just tell them to kill me straight away and save all the bother?’
‘I considered it, but the course was ill-fated,’ Marthe said calmly. ‘You must not die by clan hands. You should leave now. It may be that you will reach the Valley before nightfall.’
‘Of course,’ Merlin said angrily. ‘And where is this Valley of Conclave?’
Marthe lifted her brows. ‘Travel towards the setting sun until you see in the distance the shape of a great hill. Go towards that hill and you will come to the place where the Region of Great Trees meets the Region of Sands. You will see that the hill hides a smaller twin. The Valley of Conclave lies between these two. It can be entered only through a narrow pass from the right side as you face the hills. All travellers will use the great highway across the Treeless Plain, which runs close by the Region of Great Trees. You must join the road un
seen and enter the Valley as just another traveller. Do you understand?’
Merlin nodded bleakly. ‘Thank you,’ she said ironically.
The Rememberer inclined her head regally.
‘One last thing. Your course will founder, though I cannot say how, if you are exposed in the Valley. Therefore ask few questions lest you call attention to yourself. Listen and learn what you may that way. Seek out those on the Mound of Wisdom and let them speak.’ She drew her shawl over her head and departed without a backward glance.
Merlin stared after the Rememberer until she was swallowed up by the dense forest. Then she began to walk towards the setting sun.
5
Merlin fingered the iron band around her neck, half wishing she had shown it to Marthe.
Regrets warred with unease when she thought about her strange conversation with the sombre Rememberer. There were so many questions Marthe might have answered, yet the few words she had spoken had been vague and frightening. What more might she have said, had she chosen?
Merlin tried to tell herself Marthe was primitive and superstitious, except the Rememberer did not strike her as a fool or a witless visionary. Underneath her cold manner, she had been genuinely dismayed at Merlin’s appearance and grimly determined to drive her away from the scatterlings. Her determination forced Merlin to take her warnings seriously. But she could not honestly believe she represented some sort of evil omen for Marthe and the exiled scatterlings. She, who seemed to have so little control of her own life and fate, could hardly be a danger to anyone else. Marthe had called her a liar but surely the lies she had told were not so terrible.
‘Once upon a time, there was a great and powerful sorceress called Merlin . . .’ the William voice began softly. Merlin wondered suddenly why she always remembered William whispering. The voice offered no answers to his ghostly presence in her mind.
She sighed resolutely. There was enough to contend with without worrying about Marthe, or the mysterious William. What was it Ford had said? That there were enough real worries in the world without imagining new ones?