Broken World Book Two - StarSword (27 page)

Chapter Eleven

The storm raged
all night. Kieran lay beside Talsy, who slept so deeply that she
never moved. He dozed, his slumber disturbed by the thunder and
lightning crackling overhead.

The sun rose in
a grey dawn to light a dismal, storm-torn world, battered and
cleansed by wind and rain. The wind still moaned and rain continued
to fall, but the thunder had moved away and the lightning was
distant flashes. A carpet of fallen green leaves covered the grass
and the river swirled past in a swollen muddy torrent. Fallen
branches and twigs littered the ground and choked the river; new
born streams trickled past to join it. Kieran rose and joined the
people who sat around the fire, chewing dried food.

Roth greeted
him cheerfully, glancing at the back of the shelter where Talsy
still slept. "How's the First Chosen?"

"Asleep. No
sign of Chanter?"

"The Mujar? No,
none. Where do you suppose he went?"

Kieran shook
his head. "I don't suppose, I know he went to help the other chosen
we left behind. I had all but forgotten about them."

"So what
happens now?"

"We wait for
Chanter." Kieran accepted a piece of dried meat and chewed it,
staring out at the miserable day that dawned.

The storm
continued all day, and the river rose almost to the rock walls that
sheltered them, but did not enter. Talsy continued to sleep, and
Kieran sat beside her, growing more worried with each passing hour.
Where was Chanter? Why did Talsy not wake up? He shook her a few
times, but she merely mumbled and tossed.

At dusk the
rain stopped, but the wind continued to blow in bitter gusts
straight from the icy slopes of distant mountains. The temperature
dropped until the water that covered the ground turned to ice and
the shelter's inhabitants huddled close to the fire. Kieran carried
Talsy to it and held her while she slept against his shoulder. Roth
shot him a worried look, and Kieran was also concerned by her deep
sleep.

When a black
wolf padded up to the shelter, Roth gripped Kieran's arm, drawing
his attention to it. In the darkness beyond, more wolves howled.
Kieran watched the wolf. The only weapon the rebels possessed was a
dagger. The animal came closer with the loose-jointed gait of its
kind, entering the firelight. Several others saw it and recoiled in
alarm, but Kieran continued to study the wolf. It turned to look at
him, and the firelight shone on silver-blue eyes. As he relaxed, it
opened its mouth in a panting expression that could have been
laughter.

The icy clamp
of Dolana froze the air, and the wolf seemed to melt away. Chanter
smiled at Kieran, sharing a secret joke while the others gaped at
him. As he stepped into the shelter, Talsy woke with a gasp,
looking confused. Chanter knelt beside her, and she smiled and took
his hand. The Prince watched the pair, struck afresh by the
strangeness of a Mujar when seen in close proximity to Truemen.

Chanter exuded
wildness like a sweet scent, from the glitter of his ebon mane to
his skin's golden sheen, his perfection set him apart. Beside him
the Truemen soldiers looked scruffy, dirty and coarse. Kieran tore
his eyes away and frowned at the fire. Envying a Mujar was foolish,
and the road to damnation.

Tyrander stared
at the wall and fingered the Starsword's hilt. He sat in his throne
room, whose echoing vastness and grandeur reminded him of his
vaunted status, which he cherished. The room's rich trappings had
always pleased him, and some of them were real, even though most of
the castle was the Staff of Law's fabrication. Since the rebels'
departure, he had made a brave attempt to drain the castle's
cellars. In spite of his triumph over the Mujar, his failure to
save himself from the Black Riders rankled, and each day brought
death closer. Many of those who had stood by him had fled now, and
he had been tempted to join them. Running would only prolong the
waiting, however. The Black Riders would hunt everyone down in the
end.

The Prince
groped for the wine bottle, found it empty and hurled it against
the wall, yelling for another. The cowering servant who brought it
fled as soon as he could. Any who displeased the Prince now died a
swift and fiery death by the Starsword. He caressed its gleaming
hilt with a smile. He would use it to fight the Black Riders when
they came. Kieran would not get it back until he was dead. His
greatest wish was that he would outlive his brother and be the last
to wield the sword, denying Kieran the satisfaction of using it
against the Black Riders himself.

Tyrander pulled
the Staff of Law from his jacket and gazed at it with blurry eyes.
During the great storm, which had raised a huge cloud of dust
around the castle, the stone had hummed faintly, but he had been
too drunk to ask it why. Since then, he had sobered a little.

"Does my
brother still live?" he demanded.

A single word
of golden fire formed before him. "Yes."

Tyrander
grunted. "Show me."

The vision
formed inside a burning ring. Kieran sat before a camp fire in a
cavern, a few rebels visible behind him. Tyrander stared sourly at
the image.

"Where's the
Mujar?"

"With him."

The Prince
uncorked the wine bottle and drank. "How long before the Black
Riders get here?"

"Two days."

"Will they kill
him first?"

"No."

Tyrander
belched and wiped his mouth. "But not long after, eh?"

"Kieran is in
no danger."

"Why not?"

"He is
chosen."

Tyrander
frowned at the burning words. "Not anymore."

"He is still
chosen."

"The First
Chosen is dead. There are no more chosen."

The flaming
writing twisted and reformed. "The First Chosen is alive."

Tyrander shook
his head. "I killed her myself."

"She is
alive."

The Prince
straightened and banged the wine bottle down on the table. "Show
me."

The fiery ring
reformed to show Talsy sitting by a fire, smiling at someone beside
her. Tyrander glowered at the image. "Who's with her?"

The vision
expanded to reveal the Mujar tearing a piece of dried meat. Beyond
them was Kieran, and in the background his mother sat with her
women. Tyrander stared at the vision for a long time, his
wine-dulled brain hardly able to accept what his eyes told it. He
picked up the wine bottle and drained half its contents in a huge
gulp, belching.

"How's this
possible?" he asked in a flat voice.

"The Mujar
restored her to life, and in doing so broke one of the highest laws
of the land. That is what caused the storm."

Tyrander's lips
twisted in a bitter smile. "Is there nothing he can't do?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Mujar cannot
kill."

He swigged the
wine. "Of course. That's easy to do. But he can let people die and
then bring them back to life." His voice rose. "And that's bloody
impossible!"

Tyrander rose
to his feet, swaying, and staggered to the window, where he gazed
into the blackness of the night. Almost no lights glimmered amongst
the trees now. The oasis was nearly as dark and deserted as the
sands beyond. He remembered the Mujar vividly. The aura of subdued
power hung about him and shone from the depths of his strange eyes.
He had been within the great hall, so close that he could have
reached out and touched him. The legendary Mujar, the useless,
helpless beggars who could command the elements. Yet during his
brief encounter with one he had experienced awe, as if in the
presence of a god. He banged his fist on the window ledge, bruised
it and shocked a little sobriety back into his wine-soaked
mind.

"He must pay,"
he muttered. "I will not let him win! I have the Starsword and the
Staff of Law. There must be something I can do!" Tyrander flung
away the half-full bottle of wine and drew the Starsword with a
hiss.

Chanter stayed
with Talsy for most of the night, sitting in the stone shelter's
entrance. She sat with him until the cold drove her back to the
fire, unable to persuade him to join her. His presence still
comforted her, and eventually she fell asleep curled up by the
fire. The moment she dozed off, the Mujar rose and stepped into the
night. Kieran watched him go, glancing at the sleeping girl.

As soon as the
night hid him, Chanter called upon Dolana and changed his form
again. The gentle wind swirled falling snowflakes as the wolf loped
through the whitening forest, heading back to the chosen in the
gully. He had to bring the two groups together so he could protect
them. Now that the storm had abated, the chosen would be able to
travel, and once he had united them they could continue their
journey to the gathering.

Dawn's pale
light found him at the cavern he had created in the gully, where
the people slumbered around the fire within it. The sleepy guard
leapt up with a yell at the sight of a wolf trotting out of the
forest. The sudden cold of Dolana stilled the man's grab for his
knife, and the Mujar replaced the wolf. The people stirred from
their blankets, and Sheera hurried up to stop before him.

"Come," he
said, turning away.

Chanter paused
at the forest's edge to wait for the chosen to gather up their
belongings and quit the shelter. The stone sank back into the
ground behind them, vanishing as if it had never been. Sheera
followed the Mujar as fast as her old legs would carry her, Shern
panting behind her. Chanter set a fast pace as snow continued to
fall, making the footing treacherous.

Talsy woke as
the sun climbed into the sky, immediately noticing Chanter's
absence. Throwing off the blankets Kieran had spread over her, she
stared out at the white landscape. Its emptiness mocked her, the
snow-laden trees stark sentinels against the ground's pristine
whiteness. She jumped when Kieran draped the warm blanket over her
shoulders, turning to frown at him.

"Where did he
go?"

"I think to
fetch the rest of the chosen. Come to the fire, you'll get
cold."

Talsy allowed
him to tug her to the fire, and she stared into it while he plied
her with tea and bread, not noticing the rebels' worried
glances.

The sun rose
into a cold grey sky over a snow-covered landscape gripped by an
icy hush. The forest creatures had retreated into their dens and
lairs, birds huddled together in the trees for warmth, and nothing
stirred. The rebels murmured in hushed voices, as if afraid to
break the stillness.

Talsy glanced
up to find Kieran's eyes upon her and scowled. "He should be back
by now."

The Prince
shrugged. "He's leading the chosen. They'll slow him down."

"When did he
leave?"

"Just after you
fell asleep."

Talsy gazed at
the frozen forest, then shrugged off the blankets and stood,
pulling her fur jacket closer as the chill air nipped her skin. She
wandered from the shelter, heading for the woods. Kieran rose and
followed her.

"Where are you
going?"

She glanced
back in annoyance. "For a walk, and I don't want company."

"I don't think
you should be alone."

"I'm perfectly
safe, and anyway, what good are you without a sword?" she pointed
out sourly.

"You'd be
surprised."

Talsy turned
under the first of the trees. "Leave me alone."

"What if
Tyrander sends more men to capture you again?"

"He thinks I'm
dead."

"He has the
Staff of Law," he pointed out. "It will tell him that you're
alive."

"Only if he
asks it. Besides, Chanter will protect me."

"He let you
die."

"He had no
choice," she snapped. "What else could he do?"

"He could have
come sooner."

"He gave you
the Starsword and sent you to rescue me. How was he to know that
you'd fail?" She swung away, tossing back her hair as she marched
deeper into the forest.

Kieran
hesitated, then started after her. "Don't think his concern for
your welfare is any more than duty. He doesn't love you, and he
never will."

She spun to
face him again, scowling. "What would you know about it? You have
no idea what we share."

He walked
closer. "I know what it is to love a Mujar."

"How could you
possibly know that? You're a man."

He smiled as he
stopped before her. "You don't have to be female to love a Mujar.
Dancer helped to raise me. I knew him for many years and I loved
him deeply."

"So how do you
know that he didn't love you? They threw him in a Pit, didn't
they?"

"Yes." Kieran
hesitated, glancing away. "But he stayed with us only for the
comforts my father gave him, nothing more. You can't get that close
to Mujar, they're too wild."

"I don't care
what you say, you're wrong!" She tried to turn away, but he gripped
her arm.

"No, I'm right.
Don't fool yourself. Dancer felt nothing for me. Once when we were
out together in the woods, I slipped and broke my ankle. When I
asked Dancer for help, he turned into a bird and flew away. I
managed to get halfway home when my father found me. Dancer left me
to die."

She jerked her
arm from his grip. "Chanter has saved me many times."

"Because you're
the First Chosen."

"Even before
that."

"Because you
had clan bond with him."

She glared at
him. "Well I don't care! He's said that he'll never leave me, and
that's all I ask."

"Did he? I find
that very hard to believe. Tell the truth. What did he really
say?"

She hesitated,
scowling. "He said that he'd always return to me, and that's the
same thing."

"No, it's not,
and you know it."