Broken World Book Four - The Staff of Law (31 page)

“
What does that mean?”

“
Well, certain traits are harmless, like appearance. You find
Mujar attractive, and your greatest wish was to bear a child who
looked like a Mujar, but was Trueman, wasn’t it?”

“
Yes.” Her heart swelled with joy. “You think it’s
possible?”

He shrugged.
“Who knows the will of the gods? Perhaps it will also have some of
our gentleness and love of the land. Perhaps they seek to improve
Truemen.”

“
I hope so.”

“
You deserve to be happy, and have everything you wish
for.”

“
Are you pleased?”

He snorted and
chuckled, glancing away. “Not especially. I had not thought to be
the father of so many.”

“
Only three.” She slipped her hand into his. “Perhaps this time
you’ll be more of a father to him. Or her.”

“
I think not. And it will be a boy.”

“
Good. I want another son, who looks like you, but isn’t
Mujar.”

“
Oh, so now you don’t like Mujar?” he teased.

She smiled.
“They do tend to vanish whenever they wish. I want a son who’ll
stay with me and love me, look after me in my old age.”

“
Evidently the gods have decided to give you one.”

“
You gave him to me. Perhaps they gave their permission, but
he’s yours.”

He patted her
hand. “As long as it makes you happy, I’m glad.”

“
But I shouldn’t expect you to change nappies, I
suppose?”

He shuddered.
“No.”

“
I’m looking forward to having a normal baby, who won’t need
three wet nurses and grow up in six years. And since he won’t be
part Mujar, you’ll be able to hold him, at least.”

He shot her a
sidelong glance. “You have strange wishes, my little clan. I
thought only to give you pleasure and make you happy, not to spawn
another child.”

“
And yet, you have.” She clasped her belly. “So it must be
meant to be.”

He sighed and
gazed across the garden, looking pensive. “So it would seem.”

A few days
later Chanter took Drummer away to teach him about his powers and
how to use them, circumventing the fear stage of a young Mujar.
There was no time for natural discovery with its accompanying
trauma and introspection, they had to leave the valley as soon as
possible, and Drummer needed to master his powers in order to help.
With the older Mujar’s guidance, Drummer was able to cope with his
powers within a week. He returned briefly to the castle before
Chanter sent him and Dancer out to find more chosen. Since he
lacked experience, Drummer was sent to King Ronos with instructions
to lead him and his people to the Lake of Dreams. Dancer had the
more difficult task of finding and gathering unknown chosen. As
soon as they left, Chanter instructed the people of the valley to
gather their harvests and prepare for the journey to the Lake of
Dreams.

The green vale
bustled for a week, echoing with the sound of hammers and saws as
men built barrows to carry their meagre possessions. At Chanter’s
behest, hundreds of horses agreed to carry the provisions for the
journey, relieving the chosen of this heavy burden. The women sewed
tents, made sturdy boots, preserved food, ground flour and salted
meat. The town became a giant marketplace as people bartered what
they had for what they needed. Some grumbled and protested the
unwanted upheaval, but those who were reluctant to leave their
homes were soon persuaded by the threat of the approaching Hashon
Jahar. By the end of the week, all were ready to leave. Talsy
closed up the castle, wondering when she would see it again.

The Aggapae
gave Talsy, Kieran and Chanter mounts, but the rest of the chosen
had to walk, pulling their carts and barrows. The herd prepared to
move out in a bright river of tossing manes and tails, gathering at
Chanter’s wall to await its opening. As soon as the gate appeared,
the dam of unburdened horseflesh poured through it in an eager
tide, free to gallop across vast tracts of open land again. Talsy
rode with a familiar group made up of Chanter, Kieran, Jesher, Shan
and Brin. Behind them, three Aggapae carried the long silken
banners of the valley fluttering proudly from their poles, and
those that followed carried the Aggapae’s battle flags. They made a
brave procession, the orderly ranks of the painted warriors leading
the straggling mass of chosen.

Talsy glanced
back at the valley as they rode out through the gate. The village
of stone and thatch huts huddled around one side of the tall
castle, beyond which were patches of cultivation and the little
lake in which Dancer had been healed. For seven years it had been
her home, and a pang of sadness went through her. The gate closed
behind the last of the chosen, cut off the sunny green vale and
shut it away behind its guarding peaks. The long cavalcade wound
through the hills, slowed by the people on foot and the herds of
sheep and cows they drove. Queen Kamish walked amongst the chosen
with her advisor Ardel and Captain Roth, who led her few men. Talsy
had hoped for some reconciliation between her and Kieran, but the
Prince remained distant and his mother made no attempt to change
his mind, being as stubborn as her son.

They passed
through a land burgeoning with new life and littered with bones.
Seedlings and freshly sprouted grass covered the ground; infant
forests raised green branches to the bright sun. Deer ran in their
herds, wolves with their packs and birds amongst their own flocks.
The first flowers’ sweet scent attracted bees, birdsong filled the
air, and everything held the fresh promise of spring. Strange,
unnatural skeletons littered the ground in some places, and many
scars of the chaos remained to remind them of what had gone before.
Twisted fangs of rock dotted the green fields like stone sentinels,
and rivers of solidified lava occasionally crossed their path. A
few shy animals fled their approach, but the only traces of Truemen
were a few abandoned, ruined towns and some old killing fields.

Chanter ranged
ahead in the sky, leading them on towards the sunrise each day.
Talsy missed his warm presence at night, made impossible by the
lack of a bed. Danya walked with her family during the day, but
joined Talsy’s group at mealtimes. Chanter, in his adopted role as
granddad, procured food for his dependents by the traditional Mujar
method: begging. In this he had no shame, setting off each night
with a bowl into which offerings could be placed, and, since the
people he begged from were all chosen, returned each evening with a
bounty of fresh food. The Aggapae’s hunters were a great source of
meat, while those who had no horses foraged as they walked.

They traversed
a verdant land whose growth could be measured each day, the grass
longer, the flowers multiplying overnight. They paused at lakes to
stock up on dried fish, detoured to plunder rich fields of edible
tubers and young forests heavy with scented fruit. The chosen’s
slow march would have ground to a halt to enjoy this bounty, had it
not been for Chanter’s constant goading. Many believed themselves
safe from the Hashon Jahar, many more had never seen them, and a
few did not even believe they existed.

Far from the
straggling column of chosen, the Hashon Jahar stirred from their
stillness. They turned blank faces towards their distant
destination and stared ahead with dead eyes. Those broken by their
fall became whole again, the rest regained their mobility and
supple, lifelike forms, the steeds’ hides glossy with lifeless
health. In Queen Larina’s city, the thousand Torrak Jahar that had
succumbed to the restoration of the laws awoke. The walls of the
courtyard slumped at the touch of their combined wills, and the
Black Riders rode forth into the city, slaying all in their path.
The Queen was one of the first to die, at the hands of her former
ally, Trist. Shara’s family, warned by the golden light and the
death of the crossbreeds, had long since taken the beggars and fled
the city, gaining a good head start on the Riders.

The Hashon
Jahar reformed into their orderly columns, their inherent destiny
driving them to seek out their prey. Once more they traversed the
land at a tireless gallop, black fingers of death guided unerringly
to their quarry. Truemen, drunk with joy at the world’s
deliverance, rediscovered the meaning of fear as the Black Riders
roamed the land once more. The Hashon Jahar obliterated
chaos-ravaged cities, riding four abreast in an unstoppable tide.
Chosen, warned by their seers, fled the doomed cities and sought
haven in the wilderness, where Dancer’s sharp airborne eyes spotted
some. The time of gathering was short, however, and the Hashon
Jahar galloped day and night, pausing only to tear down cities in
their path before moving on.

Drummer
rejoined the chosen on a plain of grass dotted with sentinels of
twisted rock, bringing with him the thousands from Ronos’s city who
had survived the chaos. King Ronos led them, and the horses they
rode and the oxen that pulled their wagons made their progress
speedy. The Aggapae frowned at the slavery, and Talsy expected
Chanter to order the beasts freed, but instead he ordered those on
foot to ride in the wagons. This quickened the pace, which told her
that the Hashon Jahar were catching up. The newcomers brought goods
and supplies, minimising the need to forage and hunt and speeding
their journey further.

Drummer stayed
for only a few hours, and several days later Dancer brought two
hundred timid brown people who wore nothing but scraps of leather
and paint. The young Mujar set out again immediately, and Chanter
quickened the pace once more, making Talsy wonder if this was to
become a wild stampede for the safety of the Lake of Dreams.
Drummer returned again with a few exhausted, starving people,
staying only long enough for a meal. Kieran greeted a family
amongst them, and introduced its members to Talsy as the people who
had helped him escape Queen Larina’s city. The Prince took them
under his wing and offered them all he had to spare by way of
clothes and food.

As the journey
progressed, the two young Mujar spent less time away and brought
fewer people, many of whom bore the scars of battles and suffering.
The newcomers told tales of death and destruction only a few days
behind, and mild panic infected the chosen. The horses moved at a
brisk trot, and drovers goaded protesting oxen to keep up, the
wagons bouncing over the rough terrain. Dancer and Drummer
delivered a few more people into the fold, then went out to search
no more.

They camped
after dark and set out again at the crack of dawn, eating meals in
the wagons. The days passed in an endless travel. Wagon wheels
creaked and rattled, horses snorted and oxen lowed. Chanter forbade
the use of whips, forcing drovers to cajole and wheedle their tired
animals to move. The herds of sheep and cattle dwindled with their
slaughter, and many wandered off into the wilderness. People stared
behind with wide, expectant eyes, and even Talsy caught herself
glancing back, expecting the Black Riders to crest the horizon at
any moment, heralded by the dreaded thunder of their hooves. The
three Mujar rode the winds above, watching over their charges as
they led them on.

After another
week of forced marching, when all but a few were ready to drop from
exhaustion, Chanter called a halt on a vast plain of sighing golden
grass. In the distance, a faint blue mountain range stood against
the pale sky. Amongst the peaks, a broad plateau nestled, a
shimmering golden line drawn across the hazy blue. The sight of
their destination filled Talsy with excitement and fresh hope,
banishing the fatigue that had become part of her life. Chanter
waited as the cavalcade rumbled to a halt, flanked by Drummer and
Dancer. He gestured for the people to gather around, and spoke to
the multitudes for the first time. His soft words carried to all of
them.

“
You have followed me as chosen, though many of you are not.
Welcome to the Lake of Dreams.”

A low murmur
went through the crowd as people looked around in confusion at the
expanse of dry grass stretching away in every direction.

Chanter
continued, “Those who choose to enter the Lake may bring nothing,
but must enter it alone.”

A great groan
came from the Aggapae, and many raised their voices in protest.

Chanter turned
to them. “You, who are the friends of horses, rest assured, your
beasts will be waiting on the other side. You may have no
companions during the testing. Do not cling to each other, but
enter separately, for if you cling to one who fails, you shall
perish with them. The gods of this world would adopt you, who are
the children of another god, but, before they do, you must be
worthy of the love and gifts they will bestow upon you. You will
step from the Lake onto the Plains of Redemption.” He pointed at
the distant plateau. “There.”

“
How long will we be in the Lake?” Kieran asked.

“
To you it may seem long, but in this world, only a few hours
will pass.”

“
What sort of tests will they be?” Shern called.

“
For each it will be different, according to his or her past.
For some it will be short. Those who are not worthy will fall
quickly to the gods’ wrath.”

“
What will happen to those who fail?” a woman asked.

“
They will stay in the Lake of Dreams, and join the rest of the
dead.”

Groans and
cries of anguish greeted this, and many people turned away, shaking
their heads in anger or denial.

Chanter said,
“No one must enter the Lake if he or she does not wish to. The
choice is yours, but any who do not enter the Lake know the fate
that awaits them here.”