Broken World Book Four - The Staff of Law (2 page)

“
I think we should go there now,” Brin said. “We can’t sleep
here without blankets or a fire, we’ll freeze.” He looked around at
the group, and all except Talsy and Chanter nodded. “And besides,”
he added, “it’s a little hard to sleep on rock.”

The Aggapae
summoned the horses while Kieran wrapped the pieces of the staff in
his cloak and strapped them to his back with two belts. Talsy
climbed wearily aboard her mare, and Chanter led the group onwards,
the horses’ hooves crunching on the hard ground. The moon-silvered
landscape looked almost normal, but for the shattered stumps, and
the horses left hoof prints of powdered stone. They crossed a
stream that gurgled over a bed that had once been water,
overflowing its banks to meander in trickles through tufts of stone
grass.

The fact that
water still flowed meant that the wave had not reached the stream’s
source, but had faded away at some point before the mountains. The
horses picked their way through the hard, sharp-edged landscape,
shying from the occasional shattered corpse of a hapless animal
caught by the wave. An eerie silence gripped the land, for the wind
found no leaves to rustle and no animals stirred or called save a
lone owl that had been aloft when the wave passed.

By the time
they reached the village, Talsy was almost asleep, and Kieran half
dragged her from her horse. He guided her into an inn, whose
proprietor they had rudely awakened by banging persistently on his
door. The was remarkably clean, with polished brass pots over the
common room’s fireplace and bunches of dried flowers and herbs
hanging from the rafters to scent the air with spicy sweetness.
Black beams networked the whitewashed walls and clean, dry rushes
softened the floor. Chanter left to spend the night in the wild,
and the Aggapae sent the horses out to graze. Kieran helped Talsy
upstairs to a spotless room with chintz curtains, a woollen rug and
a soft quilted bed that had cost an exorbitant price and left her
to sleep. He tried to remember when the horses’ hooves had stopped
clopping on stone and thudded on soil, but could not. It did not
seem too long ago. For him, most of the nightmare ride had passed
in a blur, fogged by shock and weariness. His exhaustion would not
allow his numb brain to think, and he gave up the unequal struggle
and flung himself down on his bed.

Kieran woke
refreshed the following morning, his aching weariness banished by a
night’s sleep in a comfortable bed, something he had gone without
for far too long. He washed in the basin of water provided in his
room and emerged yawning, to be confronted in the corridor by a
pale and dishevelled Talsy. She glared at him, clearly irked by his
obvious good health, her expression as sour as her stomach
undoubtedly was. He knew that a cheerful greeting would only annoy
someone as sick as her, so instead he stepped aside and allowed her
to precede him down to breakfast. As they descended the stairs to
the common room, they found the Aggapae in a huddle on the steps,
their faces mournful.

“
What’s going on?” Kieran asked.

“
Half the village has been turned to stone,” Brin explained.
“It seems the wave just missed this inn. It passed by not ten man
heights from it.”

The Prince’s
enjoyment of the morning evaporated, and he shook his head in
commiseration.

Talsy gulped
and turned even paler. “That’s terrible. Oh, god...”

She fled up
the stairs to the privacy of her room, presumably to make use of
the basin. He gazed after her for a moment before turning to Brin.
“We must leave as soon as we can.”

“
That’s not the worst part,” Brin said. “The people... They’re
not dead.”

Kieran stared
at him, shocked. “But they’ve been turned to stone!”

The warrior
nodded. “I know.”

“
Oh, god.”

“
They’re like the Torrak Jahar.”

Kieran sank
down on a step, his blood chilled. “Why aren’t they dead? They
should be! That would be better for everyone.”

Brin shrugged.
“You know why as well as we do.”

“
But Chanter said it takes many souls to animate a Ghost Rider,
how can these people...?”

“
Only a few are animated. The stronger ones have gathered the
souls of the weaker, I think.”

Kieran
grimaced. “Don’t tell Talsy. We must buy supplies and leave. The
Torrak Jahar will come through here too. We’ve got to stay far
enough ahead so they’re not tempted to linger here for a quick
meal.”

Brin looked
morose, glancing at his fellow Aggapae. “I doubt we’ll be able to
buy any supplies here. The townsfolk have other things on their
minds right now. Half of them are weeping and tearing their clothes
in grief, the rest are packing to leave.”

“
Damn!” Kieran thumped the stair and jumped up, running a hand
through his hair in agitation. “If we go to another town, if there
is one before the mountains, we lead those damned Riders to them
too, and we can’t cross the mountains without food and blankets.
Maybe the proprietor can help us.”

Kieran
descended to the deserted common room and followed the sound of
sobbing, finding the plump, balding innkeeper slumped over a
table.

Kieran cleared
his throat awkwardly and murmured, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

The innkeeper
raised his head and wiped his face. “My sister, all her children!”
His shoulders shook with fresh grief, and he buried his face in his
hands again.

Kieran turned
away, unwilling to intrude further since the man was distraught,
but the innkeeper burst out, “It’s a curse! The world is
cursed!”

“
You’re right,” Kieran agreed. “It is.”

“
You came in last night after this happened, didn’t
you?”

Kieran
shrugged. “Must have.”

“
I wondered how you got past the gate guards. They never let
travellers in after dark. But they were turned to stone, like the
gates, which shattered.” The innkeeper mopped his eyes with a damp
handkerchief. “You were lucky to have missed it.”

Kieran
wondered how they could have ridden past the shattered gates and
stone guards without noticing them, but everyone had been so tired.
“Yes, we were. We must move on today, and we need supplies. Since
all your people are so distressed, and quite understandably,
perhaps you could help us?”

The innkeeper
nodded, putting away his handkerchief. “I’ll do my best. What do
you need?”

When the man
left with the list of supplies, Kieran wandered to the door and
stared up the street. Not far from the inn, a swirling line crossed
the road, dividing black tar from grey rock. A weeping crowd
gathered before it, afraid to tread on the stone in case it carried
its curse to them, he assumed. Five people stood on the stone, four
men and a woman, as grey as the street, and stared at their friends
with glowing, sickly eyes. The houses seemed unchanged except in
colour, which matched the street and the landscape beyond, where
the town gates lay smashed on the road and trees had become piles
of rubble. On the living side of the line, people loaded their
worldly belongings into wagons with unseemly haste, driven to flee
the horror in their town.

Kieran turned
away and nearly fell over Shan, whose soft eyes brimmed with tears.
He chivvied the boy into the common room, where the rest of the
Aggapae sat at a table. Talsy joined them a little later, her face
chalk white and her eyes ringed with dark circles of fatigue. She
looked fragile and vulnerable, her vitality and pluck gone. Her
hair hung in lank, dull strands and her thin fingers trembled when
she put her hands on the table. Catching his eyes on her, she shot
him a defiant look and hid her hands under the table.

The innkeeper
returned with some of the items Kieran had asked for, piling them
on a nearby table. He shot a concerned look at the girl before
hurrying out again as the Prince went over to inspect the supplies.
The goods were inferior, the blankets thin and worn and the two
tents mildewed from long storage. This was no time to be choosy,
however. The innkeeper returned with an old saddle, two satchels of
dried food, water skins and an empty satchel. He dumped it on the
table and leant closer to Kieran.

“
Your lady friend looks ill. Do you want the
doctor?”

“
No, thank you. She’s not ill, she’s with child.”

“
Ah.” The innkeeper smiled. “Your wife?”

After short
pause, Kieran nodded. “Yes.”

The plump man
shot a glance at Talsy. “She’s young, she’ll be fine. My wife was a
midwife, rest her soul, and she made a wonderful tonic for mothers
to be. Did them the world of good.”

“
Do you still have any?”

“
Yes.”

“
I’ll buy two bottles of that as well then.”

The innkeeper
beamed. “So nice to see a young husband concerned for his wife.
I’ll get it.”

When the man
returned, Kieran paid for the supplies, far too much for such
inferior goods, but there was no time to quibble. The innkeeper
explained that his cook not around to make breakfast, but the
Prince shrugged it off, wanting only to get away from the town as
soon as possible. The Aggapae shouldered the supplies while Kieran
trotted upstairs to collect the pieces of the staff, packing them
into the empty satchel. Staggering under his burden, he joined the
others, and they left through the far gate without looking back.
Outside the town, the Aggapae summoned their steeds, and they
resumed their journey towards the mountains.

Kieran glanced
back at the exhausted group, whose drawn faces and drooping mounts
revealed the toll that five days of arduous travel had taken. The
Aggapae had to urge their tired horses on, and they clearly hated
forcing their friends to endure such rigours. Talsy was worst off,
so pale and drawn that she looked as if she was made from
porcelain. It was all she could do to cling to her mare’s mane all
day and try to choke down a little food before she fell asleep each
night.

Kieran’s
concern had grown as she weakened, and he cursed the Torrak Jahar
that still followed them. Chanter had gone back twice to try to
lead them away, but the Ghost Riders no longer took the bait en
mass. They despatched a few to follow the Mujar while the rest
continued after the chosen. Chanter had been forced to use other
delaying tactics, or the Riders would have caught up with them days
ago. First he had raised a wall of rock, forcing them to go around
it, then he had torn the earth apart in a great chasm, which had
delayed the Riders for two days. Nothing stopped them, however,
they just kept coming, their tireless steeds galloping day and
night. Sooner or later, they would catch up.

When the
horses stumbled to a halt in the soft golden light of sunset,
Kieran scanned the terrain around them with bleary eyes. To his
right, a swathe of forest covered rolling hills to the horizon, and
ahead the mountain range’s white peaks scraped the clouds. Behind
him, golden grassland stretched to the stone forest they had left
behind, and to his left more woodland clothed the hills. He slid
from his sweating mount and waited for Chanter to come down from
his vigil in the sky. The Aggapae rubbed and brushed the exhausted
animals, soothing them with soft words and caressing hands. Thorn
seemed to be the least tired of the horses, possessing an awesome
stamina. Talsy huddled on the ground and hugged her knees, hiding
her strained, despairing expression. Kieran snorted in irritation
when the Mujar failed to land immediately, and went over to the
girl.

“
How do you feel?” He squatted beside her.

“
Like a wet rag that’s just been through a wringer.”

“
Why doesn’t he do something more drastic? Can’t he see we’re
not going to make it?”

Talsy raised
her head to gaze at him with hollow eyes. “You mean Chanter? Like
what?”

“
He could destroy them with a flick of his damned
finger!”

“
He doesn’t even have to flick a finger to do that, but he
won’t. You know he won’t kill.”

“
They’re not alive!”

Talsy shook
her head. “In a way they are. They have souls. If he destroys their
bodies, they’ll be trapped in pools of rock.”

“
So what?” he demanded. “I did that to a whole bunch of them.
It’s no more than they deserve.”

“
He won’t do it.”

“
Then maybe I should. I could go back and burn them with the
sword.”

“
There are too many,” she said, “and your horse is too tired.
You’d only end up dead.”

“
If we don’t do something soon, we’re all going to end up
dead.”

She pulled her
hair back and twisted it to keep it out of her face for a while.
“There are almost a thousand of them. How many do you think you can
kill before they get you?”

“
Why doesn’t he put a wall around them, a permanent one, and
leave them inside it?”

She shrugged
as a shadow passed over them. “Ask him.”

The eagle
landed nearby, and Kieran turned away as the rush of wind that
accompanied Chanter’s transformation kicked up eddies of stinging
dust. His brows were knotted in a black scowl when he faced the
Mujar, and Chanter veered away from him like a wild creature
sensing danger.

“
We can’t go on like this,” Kieran said. “You’ve got to do
something about those damned Riders.”

“
What would you have me do?”

“
I know you won’t kill them, but why won’t you trap them in a
circle of rock?”