Cry of the Newborn (17 page)

'Come to Caraduk,' urged Vasselis. 'You are long overdue a visit anyway. See for yourself before you decide whether I am on the side of the future or of destruction.'

'I cannot, Arvan,' replied Jhered. 'In case it has escaped your attention these past few days, we have significant problems on our borders with Tsard and my presence is required there by the

Advocate for the remainder of dusas. Meantime, you expect me to carry this knowledge with me in secret, I suppose?'

Vasselis spread his hands. 'It'll give you time to think.'

Jhered shook his head, feeling an anger growing. 'You have placed me in an invidious position. Merely by not reporting you to the Order, I am committing an offence that would see me burn next to you.' He paused, noting that Vasselis was clearly all too aware what he had done. 'Yet I know you believed you had no choice and I respect what you felt you had to do.

'Any other man, I would arrest here and now as my duty dictates . . . damn but this is not what I, the Advocate nor the Conquord needs. Internal strife among the closest of allies would be so dangerous and we cannot allow the Chancellor reason to enact her more repressive plans. Reason that you, you fool, have given her, should she discover what you have done.'

He sighed again. 'Here's what I will do. I will talk with the Advocate before I take ship back to Gestern. We will decide on a course of action and notify you of it, so I suggest you don't leave Estorr before you are summoned back to the palace. That is all I can do and if you experience sleepless nights in the interim, good. Consider it a fraction of the price you are asking us to pay on your behalf.'

Vasselis breathed deep and relaxed, leaning back again on the recliner.

'It is all I could ask of you, Paul. Thank you.'

'You are lucky it is you,' said Jhered, feeling the edges of a smile on his face. He leaned forward to grip Vasselis's arm briefly. 'Meanwhile, be sure your people are defended. You must be prepared for everything.' He clapped his hands once, feeling a desperate need to change the mood and calm his thumping heart.

'Now, let's try and eat. You can tell me how that son of yours is getting on. I heard great reports of his swordsmanship from the academy masters. And still so young. You must be very proud.'

He thought for a moment that Vasselis was going to burst into tears.

Chapter 15

847th cycle of God, 34th day of Dusasfall

14th year of the true Ascendancy

'Duck!'

The snowball caught Arducius full in the face. He cried out at the shock of the impact and the sudden cold across his already chilled and red face. Remembering himself, he pirouetted and collapsed dramatically to the ground, feeling the fresh soft snow puff around him.

'Yes!' Mirron's voice was loud in triumph. 'I told you we'd win. I told you you'd do it.'

Arducius pushed himself up on his elbows. He could see around the snow barricades he and Gorian had built in the walled gardens behind the Ascendancy villa. Mirron was laughing, her arms around Ossacer's neck. A rare smile split his face too. Ossacer had said he'd worked something out but this was amazing. Arducius caught the mood and began to laugh himself.

He loved dusas. Most particularly, he loved the fall of fresh snow. It was like spreading feathers across the land for him and he could run and fall and play like all of them with hardly a fear of bruising or breaking his brittle bones. He felt strong when dusas came and the land became cold. Like Gorian did all year round. In dusas, he could compete just like all the others.

'Why didn't you duck?' Gorian's voice was sulky and unhappy.

Arducius looked round and a familiar vague fear settled on him. He stopped laughing. Gorian was staring down at him, snowball still in his gloved hand, ready to throw at the others. No point now; the game was lost. But Gorian hated to lose. Even a snowball fight was treated with all the seriousness of his Ascendancy studies.

Arducius didn't know whether to feel contempt or
admiration for
Gorian sometimes. Mostly, he just wished the boy he so wanted to be his friend would learn to enjoy himself once in a while, not treat everything like it was a struggle to save the world. But Gorian was so often aloof. Only Mirron seemed to be able to get through to him. It was obvious why that was. She had always liked him, wanted to be with him. He responded to that. Arducius guessed he was flattered by the attention.

‘I
didn't believe he could get it anywhere near me, let alone hit me, did you?'

‘I
told you to duck.' Gorian shrugged.
‘I
could see it coming and you weren't even looking.'

Arducius got up and brushed snow from his cloak. Mirron and Ossacer were walking towards them.

'Still, never mind,' he said. 'It was only a game.'

'We lost,' said Gorian. 'And we shouldn't have.'

'What do you think Ossacer has worked out, then?' asked Arducius, keen to change the subject. Gorian had an angry look in his eye but the moment he mentioned the other boy that expression changed.

‘I
wonder,' he said.

The defeat forgotten, he turned his attention to Ossacer, whose arm rested gently on Mirron's while the two of them walked slowly across the white carpet. Above, the sky was dark grey and the wind was picking up beneath the clouds. There would be more snow soon. A fall that would go on through the night before the clouds broke in the late morning. It was probably just as well the game had ended when it did. Gorian trotted quietly around to Ossacer's left-hand side.

'Gorian,' whispered Arducius. 'Don't.'

'Hey Ossacer,' said Gorian, voice loud just by the boy's ear.

Ossacer jumped and stopped, turning his head towards the sound, frowning. His eyes searched in vain as they always did. He could tell the difference between light and dark and he said that sometimes vague shapes would be there, but that was all. The infection that had robbed him of his sight had robbed him of his joy too for a long time. His bitterness at his misfortune was fading but it would never truly be gone.

'Why do you have to do that?' snapped Mirron. 'It's all right,' said Ossacer, his voice deep, broken early. 'It's a pity I didn't hit you, Gorian.'

'I'm too clever for you,' said Gorian. He was smiling at Mirron, happy at her infuriated reaction. 'Don't treat him like a baby. You'll make him weaker than he is already.'

‘I
am not weak,' said Ossacer. 'Only blind.'

'But how long is it until you catch something else? And what will go wrong then? Your ears, your mouth?'

'Stop it, stop it!' shouted Mirron. 'Leave him alone.'
‘I
can look after myself,' said Ossacer.

He let go of Mirron's arm and turned to face Gorian full on. Gorian laughed and danced around him.

'You'll never be able to catch me, blind man.'

He stopped on Ossacer's left and reached out an arm slowly, meaning to push. Ossacer frowned deeply and then, quite deliberately, moved his hand to grab Gorian's palm.

‘I
am blind but it does not mean I cannot see,' he said quietly.

Gorian's expression cleared of mischief and returned to one of fascination. 'How did you do that?'

'Why would you want to know?' asked Ossacer, releasing his hand. 'After all, you aren't blind.'

'Just tell me.' Gorian's tone was immediately threatening.

'Not quite so weak now, am I?' Ossacer was taunting Gorian now and Arducius felt his heart rate increase. 'Don't know it all, do you? And you don't like it.'

'Don't tease him,' warned Mirron.

'You know what happens when you do,' said Gorian. 'Make it easy on yourself, Ossacer . . . Ossicker—' He chuckled at his own poor joke '—tell me.'

'No,' said Ossacer, and he stood straight and defiant, his eyes fixed on nowhere, his body turned to face Gorian.
‘I
won't.'

'Oh, big man are we now?' Gorian advanced the pace and pushed Ossacer in the chest. He staggered back, barely keeping his balance, his hands flailing.'

'Leave him,' said Arducius.

'And what will you do? Punch me and you'll break your own hand. You are weaker than he is.' Gorian turned his attention back to Ossacer. 'No one to save you, blind man and you won't even know where I'm coming from next. Tell me what you have learned.'

'No,' said Ossacer, though there was a quiver in his voice.

'Stop it, Gorian,' said Mirron, taking a pace towards him.

'Make me,' he replied. He stepped forwards again and slapped Ossacer very lightly on the cheek. 'Harder next time.'

Ossacer took a pace back and stumbled. Gorian's hand shot out and grabbed his arm,
holding him upright.

'Only me here to save you, Ossacer.' He held his grip firmly, strong hand biting into the flesh of Ossacer's upper arm. He looked round at Arducius and Mirron. Arducius felt his heart hammering and a sick feeling in his stomach. He was powerless to do anything. 'I'm better than you. I'm better than all of you put together.'

Gorian stilled and almost immediately, the air froze around them. Arducius saw the skin on his bare forearm paling and frost form on his glove. Ossacer cried out and tried to fall back. He thrashed his arm in Gorian's grip of ice but couldn't break it. Arducius made a move towards them, knowing he had to do something but fearing he would get badly hurt. He could see Mirron standing stock still, her mouth moving soundlessly.

'Tell me,' grated Gorian, voice full of menace.

Arducius had to do something. Gritting his teeth against the pain he knew would come, he ran headlong at Gorian. His ears were full of the screams of Ossacer, his eyes of Gorian's expression, one almost of glee at the pain he was causing.

'Leave him alone!' yelled Arducius.

Gorian looked round, his face registering his surprise at what was coming at him. He had precious little time to react. And as Arducius collided with him, trying to fend off the bigger boy with his hands to keep him from his rib-cage, he heard Mirron's voice once more and at the last, Father Kessian bellowing Gorian's name.

Kessian put his head in trembling hands. This would get round like every tiny aberration had. And the citizens of Westfallen would have one more reason to keep their sons and daughters from the Ascendants. Deny them the interaction that was so vital to their development as young people. The isolation was affecting them in subtle ways at the moment but eventually would drag its nails through every aspect of their lives.

It was precisely the opposite of the reaction Kessian wanted and represented a serious blow to the integration of Ascendants into the wider world. If they couldn't be accepted into the community that understood them the most there was surely little hope.

It was a paradox for them all. To stop behaviour like Gorian's required more integration with normal young people. It would give him and the other Ascendants more boundaries based on experience and an understanding of the huge responsibility on them to control themselves and the power they harboured. And yet Kessian could not blame any parent in Westfallen for their actions. They were scared and so were their children.

Two years since their announcement to the citizens of Westfallen had been greeted with triumphant celebration, the mood of the town had reversed almost completely. And while the Ascendancy Echelon was still respected and citizens still participated in the programme, volunteering for fatherhood or motherhood, there was a growing anxiety about the apparent results.

Kessian shook his head. The abilities were exactly as had always been predicted. It was an unfortunate fact that reality was far harder to accept than theory. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Genna, recently recovered from an illness which had almost claimed her life. She was still weak but had it not been for Ossacer's identification of the infection sites, she would not have survived at all. It was the glory of the Ascendants.

Kessian removed his hands and smiled at her.

'You're going to tell me to stop seeing things so bleakly aren't you?'

'I'm still here because of them, aren't I?' she said.

The Echelon was gathered in the central reception room of the villa. Behind Kessian's chair, a hypocaust flue roared. It gave him a measure of comfort. Simple normality. And there seemed very little of that these days. He found every day such a struggle. Not just because it was dusas. His legs were so painful and his breath was cruelly short. And he could barely write because of the shake in his hands. He was old and he was dying. He should have felt reassured by his imminent return to the embrace of God but he wasn't. He couldn't leave the Echelon and Westfallen without solutions to their current problems.

'Ardol?' It was Genna.

Kessian started. 'Eh? Oh, sorry. Old mind meandering I'm afraid.' 'We don't have to do this tonight,' said Hesther Naravny. 'It's been a long day.'

'There's no purpose in us going to our beds, only to lie awake,'