Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law

The Broken
World Book Three

A Land without
Law

T C
Southwell

Published by T
C Southwell at Smashwords

Copyright ©
2010 T C Southwell

Smashwords
Edition, License Notes

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Table of
Contents

Chapter
One

Chapter
Two

Chapter
Three

Chapter
Four

Chapter
Five

Chapter
Six

Chapter
Seven

Chapter
Eight

Chapter
Nine

Chapter
Ten

Chapter
Eleven

Chapter
Twelve

Chapter
Thirteen

Chapter
Fourteen

Chapter One

Talsy looked
up from the sheep hide she scraped and spotted Kieran marching
along the narrow dirt track that led into their village from the
fields. Jumping up, she left her task to intercept him, heading him
off before he reached the sanctuary of his hut.

"Did you find
him?"

Kieran
snorted. "Do you really think anyone can find a Mujar if he doesn't
want to be found? What am I looking for? A rock? A tree? Maybe a
sheep or cow?"

"It would be a
three-legged one," she pointed out.

"Well, I
didn't see any three-legged ones today, okay? I have other things
to do apart from search out reclusive Mujar." He brushed past her
and ducked under the low doorway into his stone and thatch hut.

Talsy
followed, banging the rickety wooden door shut behind her. Kieran
turned to glare at her, then bent over a stone basin and scooped
water over his face.

Talsy glowered
at his back. "We've been here a year now -"

"I know how
long we've been here!" Kieran wiped his face with a towel as he
turned to face her. Talsy frowned and bit her lip, wondering why
she always felt the need to remind him of it. A year ago Chanter
had led them into this valley and made them gather herds of sheep,
cows, and all manner of domestic beasts. Then he had pulled the
mountains closed behind them and trapped them here.

Kieran flung
the towel aside and walked over to the table to pour himself a cup
of mead, flopping into a creaky chair. "What do you want me to do
about it? I also thought that we were going to search for the
staff, but at the first mention of it, he damn well
disappears!"

"There must be
a reason." She sat opposite him.

"Yeah, there
is. It can't be done, that's why he took off."

"He hasn't
left us. He's still in the valley somewhere."

Kieran took a
deep swig of mead and wiped his mouth. "Well, it's a mighty big
valley. Why don't you go looking for him, he's your Mujar."

She picked at
the peeling calluses on her palms. "He worked us to the bone
building this village. I thought we would set out as soon as it was
finished."

"Me too.
Didn't help much though, did he? He could have built this place in
a day, from solid stone too, not rocks that have gaps between them,
which the wind howls through when it's cold." Kieran glanced around
at the roughly built house. "It's as if he just wanted to keep us
busy to keep our minds off finding the staff, and now that it's
finished, he vanishes." He leant closer. "He doesn't want to look
for the staff. He knows it's hopeless."

"I don't
believe he'll just sit back and watch us die."

"No, he won't
let us die. He'll guard us until he dies, by which time life won't
be worth living and we'll be dead anyway."

She traced the
grain in the table's grey wood, followed it to a knot and let her
fingers stop at its centre. "We're completely cut off from the
outside world. Do you think it's already terrible outside?"

"Probably not,
but it will be."

"I don't want
to spend the rest of my life cooped up in this valley."

Kieran poured
another mug of mead and pushed it over to her. "Why not? Maybe you
can persuade him to marry you, and then you two can live happily
ever after. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Talsy glared
at him. "Yes, but I'd rather know that my children will have a
future."

"What
children? Mujar can't have children with Truemen, you know
that."

She allowed
herself a slight smile. "That was true, but is it now? There are no
laws anymore."

The Prince
paused with his mug halfway to his lips and stared at her. "You
can't be serious! What kind of monsters would they be?"

Talsy banged
the table. "How do you know they'd be monsters? They'd be
beautiful, like he is!"

"You don't
know that. Anyway, he'd never allow it."

"How would you
know?"

Kieran stared
at her, sipping his mead. Talsy's eyes sparkled with rage, and an
errant strand of flaxen hair fell over one flushed cheek. He had
hoped that her infatuation with the Mujar would fade with time, but
instead it had grown stronger. During the months of building, she
had hardly strayed from Chanter's side, but the Mujar had always
left her at night and returned in the morning. A few days ago, she
had asked Chanter when they would leave to find the pieces of the
Staff of Law, and he had fallen into a deep silence. Talsy had
become embroiled in a one-sided argument with him, and afterwards
he had vanished. Since then, she had been morose and moody, prone
to fits of rage and even the occasional tantrum. Kieran had been
tempted to put her over his knee, but remembered Chanter's advice
and refrained. Now his patience was wearing thin.

Kieran set
down his mug with a bang, licked his lips and leant forward. "He
told me himself, he'll never be with you."

She recoiled
as if he had slapped her. "What? You're lying! Chanter would never
confide such a thing to you!"

"Well, he did.
I got the impression that it was for your own good, if that's any
consolation."

The colour
drained from her face, and she stared at him with such despair that
he looked away, ashamed. She leapt up, and he jerked in surprise
when she swept up her mug of mead and hurled it at his head. He
ducked, and the projectile sailed over him to smash against the far
wall, spraying mead.

"You bastard!"
Talsy spun on her heel and headed for the door.

Kieran leapt
after her, reaching the door before she did.

"Wait!" He
tried to grab her, and Talsy swung a fist, took him by surprise and
hit him on the mouth. Kieran grabbed her in earnest and pushed her
against the wall hard enough to make her grunt.

"Listen to
me,” Kieran said. "A Trueman cross Mujar is unnatural. It can
happen now because the laws are gone, but it shouldn't be
allowed."

"Maybe a cross
between our races is exactly what this world needs. They might be
better than both of us!"

He shook his
head. "You can't improve on perfection, and you're the first to
agree that he's perfect. You might end up with children with our
lack of morals and his powers, imagine that. What havoc they could
wreak."

"But they
might have his nature and our lack of power, what about that?"

"He won't
allow it. It's unnatural, forbidden. You might very well succeed in
seducing him, but I think you would regret it."

"No I
wouldn't! That's my dream, to be with him and have his children,
who would be so much better than damned Lowman brats!" She glared
up at him. "He wouldn't kill them. You know he can't kill, so who
would? You? I bet you'd volunteer, wouldn't you, you bastard! But
you'd have to get past me first, and he wouldn't let you kill
me!"

Kieran gave a
grunt of disgust and released her. Sitting at the table again, he
picked up his mug of mead. "How can you say such a thing? How can
you even think it? I would never harm a child."

"And you think
Chanter would?"

"No one has to
kill them. If you have Chanter's children and we fail to mend the
Staff of Law, they'll die in the chaos. If we succeed, the law will
kill them."

Her eyes
filled with horror. Unable to look at her, he stood up and went
over to the basin, bending to wash his face. When he straightened,
she sat at the table again, staring at its grey grain. He took the
chair opposite her, rubbing his face with a towel.

"Maybe it
won't," she burst out. "How do you know it will?"

"Okay, let's
say it won't. They'd still be freaks, outcasts. The chosen don't
hate Mujar, but not all of them love them. Would they find mates?
Will they be able to have children? Will they be mortal? Truemen
and Mujar are utterly different, from different worlds, created by
different gods." He put down the towel and fingered his swollen
lip. "It's a bad idea. I think Chanter would say the same
thing."

"You don't
know him." She stood up. "He loves me, and he'll love his children
too."

"No one even
knows how they breed, but certainly no one's ever seen a female
Mujar."

She turned
away, heading for the door. "That doesn't mean they don't exist.
Maybe they're hidden somewhere for their own protection, otherwise
they'd be in the Pits too. I'm going to find him, and I know how to
do it."

"How?"

The door
slammed in answer, leaving him alone in the draughty hut. Kieran
rubbed his jaw, fighting the ache that grew in his chest. Talsy had
fallen under the Mujar's gentle spell, and no one could break it
but her, not even Chanter.

Talsy strode
back to the hut she shared with Sheera, wiping teardrops off her
cheeks with rough hands. She ripped open the door and slammed it
behind her, causing Sheera to look up in surprise from the pot she
stirred. The old seeress took in Talsy's dishevelled state with a
glance.

"You been
fighting with the Prince again?"

"Don't start!"
Talsy went into her sleeping alcove and yanked the privacy curtain
across with such force that she almost ripped it from its
rings.

Sheera clicked
her tongue and shook her head at the bubbling pot. "You shouldn't
be fighting with the Prince, he's a good man."

Talsy gritted
her teeth as she lay on her bed. "He isn't a damned prince, so stop
calling him one!"

"Sure he is,
born and bred," Sheera stated, unperturbed by Talsy's tone.

"He was raised
a woodsman, and that's all he is!"

"Don't go
telling the Queen that."

"If they'd
both been strangled at birth, we wouldn't be in this predicament
now."

Sheera pulled
the curtain aside and wagged a wooden spoon at the supine girl.
"Don't be so nasty, young lady. Kieran did nothing wrong."

"Except let
Tyrander take the Starsword from him."

"He came to
rescue you, ungrateful girl!"

"But he
failed. I could beat him in a fight!"

"Hah!" Sheera
licked the spoon and turned back to her pot, leaving the curtain
open. "He should put you over his knee, if you ask me."

"I'd like to
see him try!"

"If he wasn't
so concerned about hurting you, he would in a second."

Talsy gritted
her teeth. "He's scared of Chanter, that's why he's careful."

"Scared of
Chanter?" Sheera turned and raised her brows. "I hardly agree, dear
girl."

"He is," Talsy
retorted. "I've seen it."

"That's not
fear, that's respect, big difference."

"He still
wouldn't go up against Chanter."

"Who would?"
Sheera stirred the pot. "What Trueman could stand up to the power
of a Mujar?"

"Exactly."

"But if Kieran
chose to make you his, Chanter wouldn't stop him."

Talsy scowled.
"He would. He loves me."

"Not in the
way you think, child."

Talsy rolled
onto her side, facing the wall, and pulled the pillow over her head
to block out Sheera's words. The old seeress sighed and turned back
to her pot, muttering, "You're asking for a world of pain,
lass."