Read The Farseekers Page 7


  The ginger-haired woodsman quirked his brow speculatively. 'Is this all of you?'

  'Enough for you,' I said cheekily. Gypsies were never subservient.

  'Are you the leader of these people?' asked the man in the robe. He had a curiously colourless voice and very cold eyes.

  'For now,' I answered after swift thought. 'My father is the leader of our troop. We are to meet up with him in Arendelft.' I nodded at Pavo. 'My cousin there fell sick and our party split in two. Though I don't know what business it is of yours,' I added rudely.

  'What are you doing here if you are headed for Arendelft?' asked the robed man.

  My heart jumped. 'We heard there was an Olden way through the mountains,' I said weaving truth with lies. The best lies are the ones that are mostly true, Louis always told us. He was glaring belligerently at the men and I hoped Matthew had told him to keep his mouth shut.

  'There is no such pass.' The robed man stepped forward and I resisted the urge to step away. 'Enough of this. We will bring them back to camp.' More men stepped out of the trees. I pretended to look surprised. 'Find the horses and bring these vans.'

  'Where are you taking us?' I demanded.

  The robed man did not answer, but the ginger-bearded woodsman grinned over one shoulder. 'You are to meet the great man himself. The Druid.'

  8

  Through the trees I could see a settlement. I realized we were headed for the blank area I had been unable to penetrate the night before. This and the knowledge that we had been captured by Henry Druid, filled me with apprehension. We could hardly have got into a worse mess deliberately.

  But more disturbing, as soon as we entered the area of blankness, my powers were useless. I could not even reach Matthew who was directly behind me. And I could not reach Domick, outside the area.

  Mindbound for the first time in my life, I was overcome with panic and the feeling of being trapped. Glancing over one shoulder, the look of rigid terror on Jik's face acted like a bucket of cold water on my own fear. I made myself smile reassuringly and the stark tension in his movements subsided. I concentrated on calming myself. I had to find a way to free us, and that would only be possible with a cool head. Methodically, I tried reaching all the others, including Darga, who padded along quietly beside Jik. I could not sense a single thought. Again I tried Domick, then Gahltha.

  Nothing.

  I tried examining the block itself. No wonder the Druids had seemed to disappear so completely. The block had to be a machine, modified like the Zebkrahn. There was something mindless about the static.

  Behind, Louis grunted in astonishment at the size of the walled encampment visible through the trees. The wall itself was no more than a barrier of thin, dark-stained striplings set upright in the ground, reaching high enough to obscure all but the tops of thatch-roofed buildings and a number of gently smoking chimneys.

  I was less concerned by the size than by what such a block must mean. The Druid must know about Misfit abilities. He had been a Herder and there had always been rumours that the Herders knew more than they told. Perhaps they had always known about Misfits and simply kept it from the Council for some reason of their own.

  Somehow Rushton had to be warned that the Druid had mind weapons. What would happen if the Druid discovered we were Misfits?

  Or did he already know that?

  Rounding the outer wall we came to a wide gateway, firmly bolted. A ruddy face appeared at an opening in answer to the red-haired woodsman's call. 'Who is that wi' ye, Gilbert? I diven't know them faces.'

  Gilbert gestured impatiently at the door. 'Open up, Relward.'

  'Bain't he a gypsy?' Relward inquired staring doltishly into my face. He chewed his lip ponderously, then, unlatching the gate, planted himself firmly in the gap.

  'Step aside, dolt! You try my patience,' Gilbert snapped.

  Relward shook his head. 'I canna let strangers in. Take him,' he nodded at me, 'an' them others to th' compound. Her can come in,' he added, nodding at Kella. Despite the seriousness of our situation, I felt indignant at being taken for a boy.

  'I'll decide where they will be taken, Relward,' Gilbert said through gritted teeth. 'But I'm not sure we should have a gatekeeper too blind to know the difference between man and maid.'

  The bumpkin's eyes widened. He stared at me accusingly as if I had deliberately transformed myself to confound him. Then he gaped, seeing the robed man. 'Master,' he bleated. 'I dinna know ye was there.' He tripped over his feet in the effort to get out of the way. The robed man ignored him and swept into the camp.

  Gilbert grinned covertly over his shoulder at me. 'Do not think we are all such fools as that - or so blind,' he murmured in a low voice. I stared at his back in astonishment.

  There was nothing makeshift about the village within the walls. It was a complete and settled village with gravelled streets and stores. There was even a blacksmith and extensive holding yards and stables for horses within the wall.

  People came out into the street to watch us pass, their eyes curious. Almost everyone seemed to wear arms, including the women and older children. The prospect of escape seemed dim. I wondered what Domick would make of our disappearance. He might decide to return to Obernewtyn but, in his place, I would wait and try to find out what had happened.

  At the very centre of the settlement was a wide green expanse and garden beds. I was oddly reassured to see children playing on a swing, though they stopped their game to watch us pass.

  Only one building edged on the square, a big stone house that reminded me vaguely of the main Council- court in Sutrium. Broad stone steps led up to the entrance and double wooden doors like those at Obernewtyn stood open, revealing a long hall with a shining timber floor and a high, sloped ceiling. Two young men emerged from one of the many doors leading into the hall. They smiled at Gilbert, but their good humour faded when they saw the rest of us.

  'Gypsies,' one spat. Gilbert frowned, but made no comment shepherding us through a door into a room.

  Left alone except for Gilbert, I did not try to talk to the others. Taking my lead, they stood silent too. I tried again to breech the block, but with no success. It was incredible to think such mental blindness was considered normal.

  'Gypsies, eh?' Gilbert said, leaning against the door. 'Where were you really headed? The main road is much quicker than any so-called Olden way.'

  I stepped up to him boldly. 'I told you already, or are you as deaf as that gate warden was blind? We are to meet my father in Arendelft.'

  Instead of becoming angry, Gilbert threw back his head and laughed with real amusement. 'I wondered why a scrap of a girl was the leader over grown men, but now I see you carry the sharpest weapon in your wicked tongue.'

  'Why have you brought us here?' I demanded.

  Gilbert smiled. 'I am the one asking the questions. Tell me, where have you come from, if you insist you are going to Arendelft?'

  I hesitated. 'We have been in the High mountain country.'

  I heard a smothered gasp from Kella, but fortunately Gilbert was too intent on my answer to register it.

  'Then . . . you must have seen Obernewtyn?' he said.

  I shrugged carelessly. 'Of course.' From the corner of my eye I could see Matthew looking at me as if I had gone mad.

  'Why did you go up there?' Gilbert asked guardedly.

  'Why does a gypsy travel anywhere? For silver. My father said there would be winter lodgings there, and work to trade for it. He wanted to try trapping a snow bear. One sold in Sutrium last moon for a Councilman's ransom.' I smiled as if the thought of such wealth excited me, then I let my face fall.

  'But everything went wrong. There was a curse on that place and we laid another in leaving. A firestorm had all but laid it to waste. There was nothing left but a few rough huts made of the ruins. The people left had no room or food to spare. Then my cousin fell sick, and I had to wait for him while the rest went on without us. And now this,' I snorted petulantly.

  'So, there was
a firestorm,' Gilbert murmured.

  'We were supposed to meet the troop at Arendelft in time for the autumn harvest of Eben berries,' Matthew said.

  Gilbert looked at him and grinned. 'So, you can speak. I thought you were all mute, having this grubby wench speak for you.'

  I held my breath hoping Matthew would have the sense to see he was being deliberately needled. He only shrugged sullenly and fell silent.

  The robed man returned, and Gilbert spoke to him in a low voice. His pale eyes rested thoughtfully on me.

  'Take the men to the compound, the boy to the other children for the time being and the girl to Rilla. You will come with me,' the robed man instructed me coldly. He led me down the hall to another door.

  ' . . . but how can we have missed it . . .' A deep voice floated out as we entered the room. I blinked, dazzled by sunlight streaming from a huge window overlooking an enclosed fern garden. There was a long table in the room covered in books and papers and surrounded by chairs. A number of robed men and several dressed like Gilbert, clustered around the head of the table.

  'Forgive me, Lord,' said the man who had brought me there.

  Those bending over the table drew back revealing a white-bearded man seated in their midst. He wore the same plain cream-coloured robe. He had the thin face and body of an ascetic, but his features were curiously mismatched - a beaky nose, a jutting chin and beetling silver brows. His eyes were his sole visible beauty, dark and strangely compelling. Such eyes might easily see into a person's mind. I met his penetrating gaze uneasily.

  'What is it, Douglass?' he asked in a low, sweet voice.

  'This is the gypsy girl I mentioned a moment ago. But I had not realized then, she and her family have been in the High mountains. They have seen Obernewtyn,' he added pointedly.

  The old man's eyes glittered. 'Obernewtyn?'

  I nodded, wondering again if I had made a mistake in saying we had come from Obernewtyn. I had thought only to give credence to Rushton's lie, but it was clear the Druid's people had not believed the firestorm story. I told them what I had told Gilbert. 'Why have you brought us here?' I asked at last. I wanted to impress on them that I was a gypsy interested in nothing but my own skin.

  'Tell me what you saw at Obernewtyn,' the old man invited.

  'I've told you everything. They wouldn't let us stay because there was no room. Some of them were sick.' I let distaste show in my eyes.

  'Douglass told me you were looking for a Beforetime pass.'

  I nodded.

  'There is no pass,' the old man said. 'Now, what is the truth of this avoiding the main road? I suspect you were trying to leave the Highlands without being seen. Gypsies are known for being light fingered.' I hung my head to hide my relief. He thought we were thieves trying to reach the Lowlands without being arrested!

  'What are you going to do with us?' I asked, more boldly.

  'What was the name of the Master of Obernewtyn?' the old man asked.

  A chill ran down my spine. 'There was a youth in charge, if you would call him Master. He seemed half out of his wits if you ask me. Kept raving about Obernewtyn belonging to him and wanting to restore it. Who would want to bother with such a ruin?' I chewed my lip as if trying to recall. 'Rafe . . . Rushton, I think his name was.'

  An unreadable look flickered over the old man's face.

  For a long moment there was silence in the room, and I heard the muted sounds of children at play. The old man rose slowly and came round to stand in front of me.

  'Do you know who I am?' he asked.

  My heart sank. If he would tell that openly, he had no intention of letting us go. 'Are you . . . the Druid from the old stories?' I asked shyly.

  The old man gave me a quick, rather beautiful smile. 'I am,' he said. 'It pleases me to know my name has not been forgotten. And what do gypsies know of Henry Druid?'

  'My father told me the Council and the Herder Faction forced you into exile. He said you were not dead no matter what was said, and that you would one day return.'

  A fanatic gleam flashed in the old man's eyes. 'Your father is wise for I mean to return.'

  The door opened suddenly and a pretty, blond girl entered. She scanned the room lazily, her eyes stopping on the Druid. 'Father, you promised to come to midmeal. We are all waiting.' She pouted.

  The Druid smiled indulgently. 'I will be there very soon, Erin. In the meantime take this girl to Rilla for me.'

  'Another gypsy?' she inquired disparagingly. Without waiting for an answer she gestured languidly for me to follow.

  The Druid's voice followed us into the hall. 'And Erin, tell Rilla the two girls will attend nightmeal with us tonight. See that they have some suitable clothes.'

  Erin nodded and closed the door behind us. She led me wordlessly out of the building, across the green and down a number of streets to a square building near the edge of the settlement. A delicious smell of cooking food flowed out the door. My mouth began to water, but we bypassed the door, going round a narrow path to another building at the rear. The less appetizing smell of soap suds met my nostrils. I cast a regretful look over my shoulder.

  Erin glanced at me with as much interest as if I were a piece of cheese. Her eyes were hard and bright like pieces of blue glass.

  Another girl came out to meet us. Plump and pretty, she introduced herself as Rilla.

  Erin looked bored at this exchange. 'This one needs a good scrubbing. I don't wonder Relward mistook it for a boy. Still, do what you can. Both these gypsies are to come to nightmeal at the Druid's table tonight.'

  'Your friend is already bathing,' Rilla said, when Erin had gone. My stomach growled loudly as if defining its own priorities and Rilla laughed. 'Ye'd nowt be let into th' kitchen lookin' like that. But bathe quick and ye can have yer fill before yer turn gives up growlin' an' takes to bitin'.'

  The bath house was filled with billowing steam. I squinted, making out a number of tin barrels all round the walls with fires burning beneath. In the centre of the room were two vats. Kella's head popped above the rim of one and Rilla pointed me to the other.

  There now,' she said kindly, handing me a drying towel.

  I turned to set the towels down and caught sight of myself in the mirror. I gaped. No wonder I had been mistaken for a boy. I scarcely looked human. My face was barely visible for filth. I had not bathed since Gahltha's riding lessons. My clothes were stiff with dirt and my long hair one lank rat tail. With a grimace, I stripped off my clothes and slid into the boiling water. I scrubbed thoroughly, massaging gritty dirt from my hair and ears. Kella handed me a thick calico robe like the one she wore as I clambered out.

  'Was it the Druid?' she asked worriedly.

  I nodded. 'Do you notice anything else since we came here?'

  Kella sighed. 'You too? I hoped your powers would be strong enough not to be affected. What do you think it is?'

  'Some sort of machine, but no one mentioned it. Maybe this is how they test people to find out if they are Misfits. Yet I'm almost certain they believe we're real gypsies.'

  'Rilla won't be long. I think she's been told not to leave us alone. What are we going to do?' Kella asked urgently.

  'I'm going to try breaking through the barrier tonight. If that doesn't work, I'll have to get to the machine and break it or switch it off somehow. If only Pavo were here. I wonder why we've been separated?'

  'Did they say anything about this nightmeal?' Kella asked.

  Puzzled at her tone I said, 'We're to eat with the Druid. What else should I be told?'

  'We are to eat with the Druid and all unbonded men,' Kella said pointedly. 'Have you noticed how few women there are around here? Rilla let it slip. Tonight we are going to be looked over like batches of scones. For bonding.'

  I stared into the clouds of steam. 'We have to get away, and soon,' I said.

  Rilla returned carrying a green dress in one arm, and a blue one in the other. 'These will match your eyes,' she said. Her eyes widened. 'Well, ye do clean up nice
an' proper.'

  I had never seen such fine clothes before, let alone dreamed of wearing them. But where had such finery come from, if not Sutrium? And how would an exiled Herder priest obtain such luxuries?

  'These will make ye pretty fer tonight,' Rilla said, holding out the dresses.

  'Lambs to the slaughter,' I murmured ironically. I held mine up as if it were a shroud cloth. And well it might be, for I had no intention of being bonded to anyone!

  9

  It was an odd, strained occasion.

  The Druid and his guests ate long and late into the night. They were formally attired and the courses of food were lavishly presented. It was hard to believe we were in the middle of the White Valley.

  The Druid's armsmen, as those of Gilbert's type called themselves, drank heavily, both red and white fements as well as a spicy warmed cordial. The latter could be made anywhere, but the Highlands were no place to grow the delicate fement grapes. Like the dresses Kella and I wore, the fements could only have come from the Lowlands, probably Arendelft.

  The Druid's daughter, Erin, sat by his side, clad in a dazzling blood-red dress. Her long hair was elaborately plaited and beaded around her head.

  Beside her, Gilbert smiled welcome. 'So, gypsy girl, how are you finding our rough and ready camp?'

  Laughter met his words. All the Druid's captives were probably as astounded at the lavish way the Druids lived. Gilbert himself was hardly recognizable in a fine white shirt and black velvet jacket, though he was less extravagantly clad than many of the other armsmen. None of the white-robed Druid acolytes were present.

  'What? No words for us, gypsy girl? Have we disarmed you at last? Perhaps the fire was quenched when the dirt was washed off,' Gilbert teased.

  Erin laid a dainty hand on his arm. 'Dirt will wash away, Gilbert, but that particular hue of skin will remain the same grubby gypsy colour, no matter how hard she scrubs.'

  The table fell silent, but before I could draw breath to respond, Gilbert laughed, smoothly drawing his arm from beneath hers. 'I find that dusky tone more pleasing than the fashionable pallor of a fish underbelly,' he said, smiling into my eyes.