She shook her head, refusing to take comfort from his words. ‘We did not believe. We chose to believe. It was easier to do that than to question the Lord wardens’ decision to co-operate with the Citizen gods. I thought only of myself. I was afraid the hunting would begin again. I told myself the Blessed Walkers were fortunate, when in truth those we sent were a blood sacrifice . . .’ Her voice broke and she wept.
Aran stared at Bors helplessly. ‘Our lives are in your hands.’
‘Who would believe one soon to be elevated to warden status had denounced the Offering on the word of a humble servant?’ Bors asked, an odd note in his voice. ‘What made you believe the Offering was a farce?’
Aran shook his head. ‘As Meer said, it was easier not to face the truth. Then one night I was praying in the clanshrine. It was dark and two Lord wardens came in, not seeing me. One of them spoke of exchanging one child for another in the Choosing. The Lord warden who asked for the exchange said he preferred a good servant to a mindless dolt. It sounds like a small thing, but he spoke with such disgust of the Blessed Walkers. I could no longer close my eyes . . .’
Bors put his hand on Aran’s shoulder. ‘You will not be permitted to speak of this. Some wardens guess the truth and accept the Offering; some do not. But those who accept have the power of the Lord wardens and the Citizen gods’ deathweapons behind them. And you will not be permitted to demand mindbond to expose them. At the least, you would be exiled. You might survive, but she . . .’ He looked gravely at Meer’s frail form, bowed with sorrow.
Meer looked up. ‘We will not wait to be exiled. We must leave at once to join Ford and Era.’
Merlin stood dumbly, astounded at the strange turn of events that had brought her to the family of Ford.
Aran began to pace. ‘It is unthinkable. You would never see any of our friends or family again. We would be cast out.’
‘And we can remain, knowing the truth?’ Meer cried.
‘There is another way . . .’ Bors began, then he made a sharp chopping movement and slipped abruptly from the tent.
He returned moments later. ‘There was no one, but from now on you must be careful of what you say in public. You have enemies who would be pleased to see you executed or exiled.’
Aran frowned savagely. ‘Bors is right, we must take care. I do not excuse my guilt. Even so, no good can come of us being exiled as well. Bors, you said there was another way?’
Bors nodded slowly. ‘You can help us and all the scatterlings better from within – as a warden.’
Aran’s eyes narrowed. ‘Us?’
Bors drew himself up and suddenly he looked less like a servant than a master. ‘Yes. Us. And now I must trust you, for what the Lady Meer said was true. I would give my life for you, and now I risk it in telling you that the scatterlings are not the only ones who fight the Offering and the Citizen gods.’
‘Then the rumours are true!’ Meer gasped in delight. ‘There are rebels within the clans.’
Bors nodded with a faint smile. ‘The rumours were spread by us to give hope and to encourage those who might join us and give active help. The rebels will welcome you both if you wish to offer aid. But I do not lie. There is danger in all that we do. If you, or any of us are taken, the Lord wardens will mindbond you and take all our mindprints and all our secrets.’
‘The Lord wardens do not mindbond any more . . .’ Aran protested, but Bors shook his head.
‘They mindbond when they are certain their own secrets will not be told. And their precious visiondraught is at risk.’
‘You mean . . .’ Aran began.
Bors nodded. ‘They mindbond only those to be killed or exiled. Or those given to the Citizen gods.’ He nodded pointedly at Meer’s bowed head.
She looked up with shining eyes. ‘We might be killed? I know that. My flesh is weak, not my head, dear Bors. I would embrace such an honourable death if it came to that.’
Aran asked: ‘How is it that you know so much about the doings of the Lord wardens?’
‘There is much the rebels have learned about the Lord wardens and the wardens,’ Bors answered enigmatically.
Aran nodded and took Meer’s hand. ‘Then let us fight as we fight best. We will work secretly with the rebels. But what of her?’ He nodded at Merlin who had stood silent throughout the long discussion.
Bors frowned. ‘It is possible she speaks truly and cannot mindbond. Perhaps it would be best to send her back to the scatterlings.’
‘We can send word to Ford with her!’ Meer exclaimed.
‘I . . . I can’t go back,’ Merlin said softly.
Aran stared at her. ‘What do you mean? If you refuse . . .’
‘You don’t understand,’ Merlin interrupted. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to help you, but the scatterlings will kill me if I go back. They had a girl there who can see the future . . .’
‘A Rememberer?’ supplied Bors.
Merlin nodded. ‘Yes. Rememberer. I was trying to slip away, but she knew. She sent me away before we reached the scatterlings’ Hide. She told me I was going to come here and she told me the way. She said she saw – Remembered – that I would bring terrible trouble for the scatterlings. She . . . said they would kill me if I went back and that something bad would happen if any clanperson killed me.’
Meer turned to Aran.
‘She . . . Remembered that you would bring harm to Ford and Era?’ he asked in a puzzled voice. ‘Did she say what form this harm would take?’
‘She couldn’t see that, but she said I would lead Ford especially into danger,’ Merlin said. ‘He . . . he gave some kind of guarantee about me to the others. That was one of the reasons I was trying to leave. He had helped me and I didn’t want to get him in trouble.’
‘He gave wordbond for you when you had only just met?’ Meer asked slowly. ‘He stopped them from mindbonding you?’
For some reason Merlin felt embarrassed at the look in the other girl’s eyes.
‘There is another thing we must consider,’ Aran said slowly, seeming to look at Merlin as a person for the first time. ‘The gate-watchers did not give the alert when you entered, therefore you cannot be an exile. So who are you?’
The three stared at Merlin curiously.
‘That’s what I’d like to know,’ she said, slightly exasperated. ‘I don’t belong here. This whole world is like something out of a story book to me. It’s not the world I remember.’
‘Book? What is that?’ Bors asked.
Merlin gaped at him. Was it possible the clans did not have books?
‘What do you suppose the Rememberer saw?’ Meer asked slowly.
There was the sound of footsteps but before anyone could react the tent flap was flung open. Delpha entered grandly, a curling smile of satisfaction on his lips. He was followed by two men with sharpened staves. Merlin recognised them as the men who had guarded the entrance to the Valley.
‘There she is,’ Delpha announced, practically dancing on his toes. His long dark hair was bound in an elaborate plait and studded with jewels.
Aran and Bors exchanged a speaking glance.
‘We were just about to turn her in,’ Aran said quickly. ‘Bors brought her to me because he wanted to be sure he was doing the right thing.’
‘Don’t give us away,’ Aran’s voice spoke inside Merlin’s thoughts. She sensed Aran’s astonishment when she did not let him inside her thoughts, but there was no time to explain.
‘Of course you were,’ Delpha smiled. ‘And now the guards have come. Isn’t it lucky that I heard you questioning her?’
Merlin heard Meer gasp with fright. It must have been Delpha Bors had heard outside the tent. Delpha slanted a corrupt smile at Aran. ‘It appears to be too much for your dear lady, Aran. Perhaps she should lie down. But of course, first we must give evidence to the Conclave of Lord wardens. On this occasion, they may resurrect the mindbond and then we will know exactly how you questioned her. Come, the wardens are waiting for us to join them.’
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Aran put his arm protectively around Meer’s shoulders and inclined his head with dignity. ‘Of course.’
Delpha smiled and made a quick elegant gesture to the guards who escorted Merlin out.
On the way through the darkness to the temple, Merlin determined to try to protect Aran, Meer and Bors. Marthe had warned her she would bring trouble to the scatterlings. Perhaps this was how it would come, since it was clear the rebels within the clans had some traffic with the scatterlings. The Citizen gods would be delighted to have information about the scatterlings’ Hide. She decided to tell as much of the truth as she could, since she might, after all, find out the truth of her own identity. But if anyone was going to be exiled, it might as well be her, since she was going anyway.
Between the pool of water reflecting fire poles and the star-studded sky arched above and the temple, a long table had been set up. Seated behind it were more than fifty elderly people dressed in bright blue: the Lord wardens. All around the edges of the pool, people sat on the ground, facing the long trestle table. They parted silently to let the newcomers pass, staring up at them curiously.
Brought to stand in front of the table, Merlin and the others were clearly expected. A guard stood between each pair of them.
‘What is this all about? What is the charge?’ asked a grey-bearded man with hair straggling over hunched shoulders. His eyes were red-rimmed as if he had been ill.
‘My Lord Romino, Delpha of Fallon accuses this girl of lying about her clan origin. He further accuses his clan mates, Aran and Meer of Fallon, and their servant Bors of Gawlor, of conspiring with the liar. He claims there is a plot to undermine the sacred Offering, and demands that the Conclave mindbond to discover the truth of the matter,’ reported one of the guards.
The first charge raised a small scandalised murmur from the audience, but the charge against Meer and Aran fell into a shocked silence.
‘Delpha, you have cause for these charges?’
Delpha nodded eagerly and stepped forward, smoothing his immaculate plait. ‘My Lord, I first saw this girl just inside the Valley. She said she was of Nallar, yet she was dressed in rags. I also noted her strange appearance.’ Delpha spoke silkily, but his hand whipped out and pulled off the hood Merlin wore. There was a stir from the crowd at her cropped hair.
‘It was burned!’ Meer cried, before Aran could stop her.
‘See how she defends the liar!’ Delpha cried triumphantly, making a dramatic uncovering gesture.
Aran moved compulsively towards the dark man, but Delpha stepped back behind the guards.
‘See how Aran would attack me!’ he sneered. ‘He is not fit to rise to warden status.’
‘That is enough,’ shrilled the Lord warden. ‘That is not a matter for you to decide. You say you found the girl’s appearance and story unlikely?’ He drank quickly from a small flask of liquid at his elbow.
Delpha nodded. ‘Well, my Lord, when I rightly spoke my doubts these three quieted me, claiming Nallar might have fallen on harsh times. They offered to employ the girl . . .’ he added significantly.
Merlin realised Aran and Meer’s kindness made them appear to be guilty of collusion.
‘May I speak!’ she interrupted determinedly.
Delpha looked startled, but before he could respond, the warden had nodded, his fingers compulsively caressing the small bottle.
‘There is no plot between these people,’ Merlin said wearily. ‘I have never seen these three before today, or anyone here at the Conclave. I woke a few days ago in the Region of Great Trees with no memory.’
There was a murmur of shock from those assembled. ‘I came here to see if I could find out who I am. I said I was of Nallar only because I did not know what clan I belonged to. These people were kind to me, but when he . . .’ She pointed at Bors. ‘When he realised I had lied, he brought me to his master and they were about to denounce me to the . . . gate-guards.’
‘Mindbond her. You’ll see then if she lies!’ Delpha shrieked wildly. The assembled Lord wardens looked at him disdainfully.
‘Let me understand this,’ the Lord warden said slowly, his voice slightly slurred. ‘You claim to have named yourself of Nallar only because you do not know what your clan is?’
Merlin nodded, wondering what was in the little jug the Lord warden drank so often and so convulsively. She thought she could guess.
‘Then this can be solved easily. Who recognises this girl?’ the warden thundered at the audience. One of the guards made Merlin turn around, holding a torch close to her face so that all could see her.
‘She must be an exile,’ concluded another of the seated Lord wardens, when no one spoke out.
‘She is not an exile, or a runaway. We would have known,’ said one of the gate-guards firmly, bowing at the waist.
‘Then . . .’ The first speaker stood again. ‘Who claims her?’
No one responded and the wind muttered quietly in the still valley.
‘Whoever knows her clearly fears to speak out,’ Delpha said, stroking his plait as if it were an animal. He had removed his gloves and Merlin noticed his index fingernails were extraordinarily long and painted black.
Merlin ignored him, making a sudden decision. ‘I told you, I woke up with no memory of who I am or where I come from. I was taken in by a group of people in the Region of Great Trees . . .’
There was a sudden uproar.
‘The scatterlings!’ someone cried. Merlin saw Aran pale.
The noise subsided slowly. ‘You say you were taken in by the exiled rebels who call themselves scatterlings?’ the warden asked. ‘You talked to them? You went to their camp?’
‘Not to their camp. But of course I talked to them,’ Merlin said crossly. ‘I was trying to work out who I was and where I was, and they were the first people I bumped into. They took me for a runaway.’
‘She is here to spy for them,’ Delpha snarled. ‘She is here to recruit rebels!’
‘I ran away from them,’ Merlin corrected firmly. ‘They spoke of the Conclave and so I decided to come here to see what I could find out about myself. I ran off before they took me to their camp.’
‘Only a fool would believe a confessed liar,’ Delpha said insinuatingly. ‘Mindbond her and we will know the truth.’
To Merlin’s surprise, the Lord warden’s eyes were evasive. She was also close enough to see that the pupils of his eyes were huge, covering almost the whole coloured part of the eye.
‘One of the few pleasures the masses can afford, despite being illegal, are the multitude of hallucinogenics on sale on every street corner. One of the most obvious symptoms of drug use is the unusual dilation of the pupil.’
Merlin was certain the Lord warden was drugged, and she guessed the drug was the substance called visiondraught. For the first time, she wondered if the Lord wardens were in control of themselves.
‘I am not sure we should open ourselves to one who may be a spy, Delpha. Therefore we will not mindbond the girl,’ the Lord warden said. Merlin could tell he had no intention of mindbonding.
‘What about Aran, then? I heard him plotting to help the rebels,’ Delpha cried frantically.
Aran moved violently, and was restrained by the guards. ‘Lords, I don’t know how much of this girl’s story is true, but I did no more than question her. What would I have to gain by shielding her? On the other hand, Delpha has much to gain if I am executed. Perhaps it is I who should demand mindbond to establish my innocence.’
The Lord warden looked uneasily at his fellow Lord wardens before speaking, and Merlin guessed he was consulting them telepathically. ‘We do not favour this talk of mindbonding,’ he said at last. ‘Though we do understand why Aran would consider it. Mindbonding is harmful and reduces the capacity of the brain. However, I see no need for Aran to defend himself, since there seems no substance to this charge you make, Delpha. From a few overheard words, you impugn the honour of one the Lord wardens value highly. This is not the first time you have sought
to discredit Aran.’
‘I heard him talk about helping the rebels!’ Delpha screamed.
The Lord warden blinked sleepily. ‘There are no rebels.’
‘My Lord, I demand . . .’
‘What do you demand, Delpha?’ asked the Lord Romino in an insultingly bored tone.
Delpha bridled self-righteously. ‘I? I only do my duty in reporting a liar and in denouncing those who traffic with her. I call it strange that the Lord wardens do not trouble themselves to examine this matter more thoroughly.’
Suddenly an old woman seated in the crowd rose. Merlin recognised her as Sheula from the Mound. She wore a green tunic with a sash of Lord-warden blue across the bodice. ‘I know this girl!’ she cried. ‘She came to the Mound tonight. She said she had a brotherblood to be Offered.’
‘Is this true?’ the Lord Romino asked Merlin.
‘I have told you already, I came here to try to find out who I was. How was I to do that except by asking questions? I only went to the Mound because I thought I might learn something that would help me find out who I am. If I lied it was because I do not know what the truth is.’
A man in the audience spoke out. ‘In my clan, there was a man who fell from a tree. Blood came from his ears and when he woke he talked of steps into the sky and angel gods beckoning him. He looked on his friends as strangers and remembered nothing of his life up to that moment. Perhaps this girl speaks truly when she talks of an accident.’
‘The charge of lying is a serious one,’ the Lord Romino said. ‘Yet if she is injured and raving, that charge will be erased. Nevertheless we must find out who she is before we can pronounce judgement.’
Suddenly a woman seated amongst the watchers rose. She was dressed in black, a Rememberer.
‘None here will know her. She is of the clans and yet a stranger to the clans,’ she said in an empty voice. Her eyes seemed to look through Merlin rather than at her.
All eyes swung to the black-clad Rememberer, almost invisible in the darkness. Suddenly Merlin wondered what the Rememberers really saw. How was it they couldn’t see the truth of the Offering? And if they did, why didn’t they speak out against it?