Broken World Book Two - StarSword (12 page)

Many Black
Riders had left the city now to cut down the people trapped on the
web, and some of them left the tar's safety to try to flee into the
forest. The land opened like a hungry beast lying in wait,
swallowing the running Truemen in earthen maws. A few tried to use
stilts or the little wheeled carts that farmers tended their crops
in, but these were too slow to outrun the Riders. Kieran ignored
the paths and staggered towards the forest, crossing patches of
land that had just swallowed screaming groups. The ground rippled
under his feet twice, but remained firm. He turned at a thunder of
hooves, to face a Rider that bore down on him, sword raised. He
ducked the swinging blade, but the beast's shoulder sent him
sprawling on the ploughed earth of a farmer's field.

The Hashon
Jahar galloped away to pursue others, and Kieran hauled himself
upright, clutching his broken shoulder. Forcing his shaking legs to
move, he ran towards the edge of the web, pain clouding his mind in
a red haze.

Chanter hovered
over the forest, gazing down at the fleeing people who braved the
hostile land and were swallowed by it. None would survive this
battle, for the woods offered no refuge, as it had in Talsy's land.
The Black Riders would soon overtake those who had fled on wagons,
since they were unable to leave the road or hide amongst the trees.
The ground rippled with eager hunger as the angry Dargon feasted
this day on Trueman blood. Some people had procured horses and
galloped into the forest unhindered, but, in their haste, they
brushed against branches, and the trees came to life.

Roots whipped
up to drag the horses down, pin them to the earth and tear their
riders from their backs. The beasts were released unharmed, their
erstwhile masters' corpses crushed and twisted. Although the
unchosen's demise did not affect Chanter emotionally, he longed to
flee the ugly scene. Only the hope of finding Kieran kept him
there. He did not like to leave the chosen and Talsy alone for too
long unprotected.

A figure
reeling across open ground caught his eye, and he swooped lower.
Although clad in black, the man was not a Rider, yet the ground did
not swallow him. Relieved to have found him at last, the Mujar
silently urged Kieran on. The exhausted warrior fell to his knees
several times, resting for a moment before stumbling onward. He
clasped his shoulder, the arm hanging at his side, and his short
strides made his progress slow. Chanter drifted down to land
amongst the trees. With a flash of Ashmar, he transformed to a man
and strode to the edge of the forest, as close as he dared to the
earth blood.

Kieran fell to
his knees again, still beyond the last black path and out of the
Mujar's reach. He crouched, gasping, a weary smile tugging at his
lips when he spotted Chanter waiting at the edge of the trees. The
Mujar beckoned, watching the Hashon Jahar that galloped about the
city, cutting down their prey. A desperate Trueman ran onto the
ground close to Kieran, perhaps emboldened by the warrior's
immunity, to be swallowed with a scream just paces away. Kieran
climbed to his feet and approached Chanter with dragging steps.

A Black Rider
veered in its wild gallop and bore down on the warrior, its sword
lowered like a lance to skewer Kieran. Chanter invoked Crayash,
sent an explosion of flame into the Rider's path and caused the
steed to veer away. The Rider reined in and turned back towards its
prey, its twisted soul-face stretched in a silent scream. Again
Chanter blocked the way with fire, this time catching the Rider in
the flames. The Hashon Jahar broke off its attack and galloped away
to join a group of its fellows.

Kieran reached
the edge of the tar and stumbled over it onto the soil beyond the
web. He fell to his knees again, shaking his head in rueful defeat.
Sweat beaded his brow, and he breathed clouds of steam, his
features pale and drawn. His eyes burnt fiercely under lowered
brows, a lingering defiance in the face of his exhaustion. Chanter
stepped closer, sensing the earth blood's dangerous pull. He
beckoned, and Kieran made a supreme effort to regain his feet, fell
onto his good hand and swayed as the pain of his broken shoulder
engulfed him. Chanter looked up, spying four Hashon Jahar heading
in their direction. They urged their mounts to their best speed,
clods of earth flying up behind them.

Kieran crawled
towards him, dragging himself along with his good arm. In a flash
of air-freezing Dolana, Chanter became the tall black stallion and
stepped out of the forest.

Kieran glanced
back at the riders, then at the approaching Mujar. "No! Go back!
I'm not worth it!"

The stallion
continued to advance, and Kieran speeded up his crawl, the thunder
of the approaching Hashon Jahar pounding in his ears. The
manifestation of fire screamed in a searing inferno, then winked
out. A sheet of flame shot up in the Riders' path and forced them
to veer, slowing them. They avoided the flames and headed for
Chanter. The stallion reared, pawing the air, and was engulfed in
fire. He plunged towards the Riders, the Crayash that licked over
his glossy hide protecting him. With a horrible thud, he struck the
leading steed with his shoulder. Both rebounded from the impact,
the Hashon Jahar's horse falling, the Mujar staggering back. Frost
rimed his shoulder where he had struck the steed, melting away as
flames licked over it. The earth opened under the fallen Rider,
swallowed him to the waist and trapped him.

The other three
came on, and a sheet of rock shot up in their path. They crashed
into it, two falling to lie still, earth blood oozing from cracks
in their necks. The third slammed into it sideways, having turned,
and plunged around the barrier, its sword raised. Chanter lunged to
meet it, thudding shoulder to shoulder with the steed. Again, both
staggered back, and the horse fell, its Rider slashing at Chanter
as it went down. Frost whitened the Mujar's shoulder and crept down
one foreleg, and bright blood oozed from a gash in his neck. He
waited as the Crayash melted away Dolana's freezing touch, then
turned to Kieran.

The flames
winked out, and the stallion lowered himself to his knees before
the warrior. Kieran gripped the thick mane and pulled himself onto
Chanter's back as frost crept up from the Mujar's knees. Throwing
his leg over the stallion's back, the warrior settled aboard and
hung on as Chanter rose to his feet with a mighty heave. Stumbling
a little on cold-stiffened legs, he headed for the forest, away
from the earth blood and its terrible drain. Behind them, four
Hashon Jahar turned to follow, their tireless steeds blowing great
puffs of steam.

The Mujar
galloped through the trees, kicking up clods of frozen earth behind
him as the forest parted to let him through. Kieran hung on to the
stallion's mane with his good hand, gripping his flanks with
shaking legs. His hold was precarious, and his grip weakened as his
strength waned. The Mujar increased the gap between them and the
pursuing Riders, but the Hashon Jahar came on. Kieran started to
slip off sideways as the Mujar swerved around a tree, and the
stallion slowed, then stopped. Kieran slid from his back, too tired
to hold on any longer.

His breath
froze as the icy clamp of Dolana stilled the air. The stallion
transformed into Chanter's man form, and, at the same instant, a
ring of rock rose out of the earth around them. It shot up with
astonishing speed in a circle no more than ten feet in diameter,
groaning as it slowed to a stop some fifteen paces above them.

Chanter raised
a hand to the wound on his neck, an injury that would have killed a
Trueman, for it severed his jugular on one side, yet only a little
blood oozed from it. He glanced at the blood on his hand, then down
at the panting warrior. Kieran tried to sit up, and stifled a groan
at the pain in his shoulder. He propped himself up on his good arm,
the other lying beside him.

The Mujar came
to kneel beside Kieran, his eyes filled with concern. "What ails
you?"

"My shoulder. I
think I broke it."

Chanter glanced
around, spotted a patch of snow beside a tree within the rock wall
and went to collect it. Outside, the Black Riders' hoof beats
approached, slowing as they encountered the ring of stone. Chanter
scraped up the snow and knelt again beside Kieran to trickle the
water onto his shoulder. The armour hampered him, and he unbuckled
the shoulder guard and pulled it aside to lay his hand on the
blackening flesh. Kieran shivered as the air filled with the soft
wet mist of Shissar, the sounds of surf and rain and rivers. The
warrior relaxed when the pain vanished, sighing with relief.

Chanter stood
up and glanced around their prison, which the Black Riders circled
outside. Kieran sat up and clasped his shoulder, moving the
affected limb gingerly at first, then with more confidence as he
got used to the fact that it no longer hurt. The Mujar found a
little more snow in the crook of a branch and scooped it out to
melt it onto the wound in his neck. He fell to his knees as the
agony of healing gripped him, but in seconds it was over and the
injury gone.

Kieran watched
him, fascinated by this strange wild creature who looked like a man
but was not one. This was the first time he had been alone with the
Mujar. The unman listened to the Black Riders outside, cocking his
head. After a while, he came closer and sat next to Kieran. The
warrior's breathing slowed, and a little strength seeped back into
him. He wondered why the Mujar had come for him. The rescue, though
welcome, had been unexpected, and confused him a little. He had
thought only Talsy rated Chanter's undivided attention and
protection.

"Where's
Talsy?" he asked.

"With the
chosen."

"Are they
safe?"

"For now," the
Mujar replied with his usual terseness.

"Thank you...
for rescuing me."

Chanter turned
silver-blue eyes on him in a disconcerting stare. "Debt."

Kieran frowned
in puzzlement. Mujar had an odd way of talking sometimes,
especially when they were being formal, as Chanter was now. He
understood 'gratitude' and 'wish', even 'regret', but 'debt' he had
never heard before.

"You mean I owe
you?"

Chanter
nodded.

"What do you
want?"

The Mujar
considered. "Obedience."

Resentment
flared in Kieran, but he quelled it, remembered his father's words
and used them to ward off the memories of all the talk he had heard
against Mujar. His father had been wise, and taught him to respect
Mujar, even to fear them.

"You have it,"
he replied.

Chanter
inclined his head, apparently engrossed in listening to the Black
Riders outside. Kieran shifted into a more comfortable position,
studying him. Questions thronged in his mind, yet he doubted that
he would get many answers, for Mujar were fabled for their
reticence.

"Why do you say
so little?"

Chanter
shrugged. "There's little to say."

"You answer all
Talsy's questions."

"She's
special."

"I want to ask
you some questions. Will you answer them?"

The Mujar
glanced at him. "No."

Kieran sighed
in frustration, listening for a moment to the circling hoof beats
outside. "How long before they leave?"

"Soon." He
glanced at the empty scabbard at the warrior's side. "You didn't
get the sword."

"No. I had one,
but I lost it again when I broke my shoulder."

"Unfortunate."

Kieran nodded.
"It was a foolish thing to do."

"That's
debatable. A warrior needs a sword."

"I should have
waited until after the Black Riders left, then I could have just
walked in and got it."

Chanter gazed
up at the leafy roof. "We'll be far from here by then. The Hashon
Jahar will take time to recover. The Truemen of that city have
taken a heavy toll with their fire."

"Why did you
rescue me?"

"You're
important."

Kieran frowned.
"How? To whom?"

"To the chosen,
and the fate of the world."

"You can
foretell the future?"

Chanter smiled,
glancing at him. "No, not really. It's just that you're the only
chosen who is a warrior. The rest are meek people who will not
fight. We will need you."

"You fight,
I've seen you."

"Yes, I'll
fight, but I won't kill."

"And you think
killing will be necessary."

The Mujar
sighed. "It usually is with your people."

"Some of the
Hashon Jahar who attacked us back there looked pretty dead to me.
The ones who ran into the wall you created, for instance," Kieran
pointed out.

"Hashon Jahar
cannot die. They were merely damaged. They tried to defy the will
of a Mujar, and paid for it."

"You were
overcome by them before, at the camp."

Chanter stared
at the stone wall. "I was attacked first by Truemen. I was
powerless when the Hashon Jahar pinned me to the ground."

Kieran followed
the Mujar's gaze. The part of the wall he stared at shimmered, then
solidified again. Kieran realised that, even as Chanter spoke, he
prevented the Black Riders from breaching the wall that protected
them. The hoof beats stopped, and a hush fell. Kieran waited
tensely, but when the sounds came again, they moved away, fading
into the distance.

Chapter Six

Talsy had long
since given up struggling. Her captors seemed to know exactly what
to do, for as soon as they had left the pursuing chosen behind,
they had halted and trussed her, silencing her with a gag. This
also prevented her from calling on the souls for help, although she
tried calling them in her mind. Whoever had sent the four knights
knew what she could do and how to prevent her from doing it, a fact
that filled her with foreboding. She had no doubt that the knights
had been sent to capture her. The swift precision of their actions
had told her that. Now she was slung over the pommel of the
leader's horse, and the knights moved at a slow canter through the
forest, avoiding any contact with the trees.