High The Vanes (The Change Book 2) (22 page)

“Oh, my lady,” she yelled. “Domina, salvete.” She was gesturing towards the top row of the amphitheatrum just in front of us. One of the brown-clothed childless had clearly stood up and, as we watched, helpless, she turned, looked in our direction, then fell forward, out of the building from its highest point. I closed my eyes, swallowing hard.

I fully expected some of her neighbours to react in some way, for someone to come out of the building and run to where she lay, crumpled on the ground far below. Nothing happened. There was no reaction whatsoever. Those who had minutes before sat near her slightly shuffled and the space where she had been had gone.

“Did you see that?” I grabbed Tacita’s arm, the only futile gesture I could make.

“Yes, I saw it,” she said, her voice calm. “She was probably due for punishment. It happens often with the childless. Better that way than execution.”

“Better that way!” I screamed. “To fall from that height? And no one takes a blind bit of notice?”

“She was a poor childless. Dressed in brown. She will not be missed.”

I was rendered speechless. Just as with the woman who had drowned herself in the river outside Salopian Caster, Tacita could simply shrug her shoulders and move on. The death of a childless was beyond meaningless. Tears came to my eyes. Eluned finally sat down beside me. She was also weeping. “This is indeed a terrible world, my lady. I am so sorry.”

The so-called ceremony moved on. Another blast of music was followed by a man’s voice reciting something. This was followed by a small group of four or five workers entering the arena. They were clearly reluctant to do so, but they slowly made their way to the spot before the Leaders. A female voice rang out. This time the word was quite clear. ‘Desolatio’. It was repeated five times. The workers prostrated themselves on the ground. A moment later, the same female voice announced, “Exeunt omnes” and the men slowly rose to their feet and left the arena.

“Do you know where they are going?” I asked Tacita, my voice edged with bitterness over her callous disregard for the death of the childless.

“They go to Desolatio.”
“I understand that. What I want to know is where is Desolatio?”

“Beyond the limits of the caster.” She waved her arm vaguely in one direction.

“Then we shall follow them,” I said, standing up.

“What? You cannot do that.”

“I can. And I will, Tacita. When do they leave? Now?”

“When the Concilium is completed. Not before. Why do you wish to follow them? I do not understand.”

“Taid – my grandfather – was sent to Desolatio outside this caster. If we can find out where that is, perhaps we may also find him. That is my sole purpose in being in this awful place.”

“That was hundreds of years ago. You cannot possibly expect to find him there now.” Another blast of music interrupted us. “It is time for the executions,” she said and turned to face the arena.

The murmuring ceased. This time, six women made their way into the arena, two child-bearers, neither of whom carried a child, and four childless, one in white, the rest in brown. The two who came last looked completely bedraggled, their heads down, their shifts torn to shreds.

“They are like the woman in Salopian Caster,” Tacita said. “They have hidden a child. Perhaps two. That is why there are two child-bearers. The other childless are probably their servants. Except for the one in white. She is an Aula childless. Perhaps she attempted to alter the records. I have known it happen before.”

“And for this they will be killed? Murdered?”

“Executed, Non. Not murdered. There is a difference. Watch. See what happens to those who transgress.”

The women lined up before the leaders. The same female voice rang out. In turn the women stepped forward. “Death by execution” the voice said to each one in turn. When she reached the last two wretches she announced in the same tones, “Death by double execution”. Could this get any worse, I thought. How on earth can you execute someone twice?

In the centre of the arena, a small metallic plinth rose up. The condemned women walked over to it. One by one, they stepped onto the plinth. As they did so, there was a blinding flash, followed by a sickening thud as the body, now totally incinerated, fell to the side. Of the first four women to suffer this fate, only one of the child-bearers managed a stifled scream. When the final two were left, the plinth disappeared back into the arena.

Despite myself, and much as I did not wish to see any more of this barbarism, I could not tear my eyes away from whatever horror was about to be inflicted. The plinth rose again, this time carrying what appeared to be two swords. The women took a sword each and feebly began to stab at each other. The crowd started to roar. As they did so, one of the women grabbed the other by the hair and tried to stab her. The sword was too long for her to succeed in this, and the second woman squirmed free and ran off to the side of the arena. There followed a pathetic chase as the two staggered around the arena, the crowd roaring them on. It would have been amusing were it not so tragic. Eventually one fell to the ground and the other ran up and raised her sword above her.

“Stop” the female voice announced. “One blow only.”

The woman lowered her sword and pushed it into the prone woman’s back. Then she threw the sword aside. The woman who had been stabbed now lifted herself up, with some difficulty, a dark stain spreading over her shift and her back, most of which was visible. When she was on her feet she took her sword and ran it through the first woman, who stood still while she did so, before falling back on to the floor.

“Enough” the voice commanded.

Both women, by some miracle, now helped each other to stand, before they staggered back to the plinth. In turn, they stepped on and were incinerated. Finally, six carcases lay in a heap beside the plinth as it disappeared below for the last time. The crowd ceased its roaring and was eerily silent.

I turned to Tacita. “This is barbaric,” I said. “Completely, utterly, totally barbaric.”

“You spoke of security when we were in the other caster,” Tacita said. “Now you see why we do not need to lock doors and buildings.”

“Because you commit acts of barbarism? You think that gives you security?” I laughed scornfully.

“There are no more than three or four executions every year, much less than in the past. My father once told me that the arena was full one time when he was a boy, over a thousand men and women were executed. It must have been really exciting. Imagine how long it would have taken!”

I looked at her, baffled. Here was a young woman who had been prepared to abandon her place in this society to join me, yet she still relished the way in which these people were governed. With sheer, primitive brutality. Or so it seemed to me. I recalled how long it had taken the Professors to make me see the truth about the Change during the time I spent in Plas Maen Heledd. And the Change had been nowhere near as brutal as it appeared to be now.

Eventually, after more interminable speeches, the ceremony came to an end. “Will those sentenced to Desolatio leave now?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “I suppose. I really have no idea.”

I could see the Leaders leaving their seats, and a few moments later they appeared on the road making their way back inside the caster. Slowly the amphitheatrum emptied, just as it had filled, row by row, social level by social level, until finally the childless on the top row made their way out. When the last of these had made their way inside, the gates closed behind them. So far, there had been no sign of the group of men sentenced to Desolatio.

As we watched, a group of workers entered the arena, piled the incinerated corpses onto a simple wooden trolley and wheeled them away. Then the lights began to be extinguished, starting at the top and working their way down the rows of empty seats. The effect, from where we sat, was astonishing, as I had not really been aware how late it was until now, and how dark the evening. Soon, there was only one light visible, over a small door near the end of the building furthest away from the entrance.

The door opened, two workers came out and hunted around until they found the remains of the poor childless who had thrown herself off. They dragged her back to the doorway. Two other workers then came out, pushing the trolley loaded with the corpses. The broken body was thrown on top of these and all four men set off into the darkness beyond.

“To be buried, I hope?” I said.

“Buried?” Tacita said. “No. We don’t bury dead criminals.”

“So what happens to those bodies?”

“They are thrown into the river. Washed away after that, I presume.”

As if to prove her correct, a few minutes later the workers returned, now pushing an empty trolley. They returned inside the amphitheatrum.

“We still have not seen the men condemned to Desolatio,” I said. “When will they leave?”

Tacita shrugged. “Soon, I expect.”

Suddenly, Eluned leaned in towards us with her finger on her lips. I looked at her. She pointed down the slope below us. I followed where she was pointing and could just make out a small figure that appeared to be coming towards us. My first reaction was defensive. As quietly as I could, I scrabbled about behind me, trying to find something to strike out with – a stick, or a rock. There was nothing.

As the figure came closer, Tacita whispered, “I think it’s a childless. I’m sure she has seen us.”

Scrabbling and crawling her way up, we could soon make out that she was right. A thin creature, barely covered by the ragged remains of a brown shift, lifted her head when she was close enough for us to see her clearly, and stopped. She seemed to be alone. Once the sound of her crawling had ceased silence fell.

“What are you doing?” Tacita called out.

A thin little voice, still surprising despite the fact that we had grown used to Tacita’s similar voice, replied. “Niobe0344? Four? Tacita? Is it really you?”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Tacita sounded afraid.

“It is you! I thought it was. It’s me...” She stopped abruptly as Eluned stood up and walked towards her.

“Why are you here?” she asked as the woman cowered beneath her. “How did you know we were here?”

“Sister,” she wailed. “My sister.”

“Catulla?” Tacita cried out. She stood and ran down the slope, crashing into the woman and lifting her up. “It is you! I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Non! This is my sister. My sister. Polyxena0741. Catulla. My sister.” The pair clung together and danced a little jig before falling over in a heap, both laughing hysterically.

Eluned walked back to where I was still sitting. “How can this be, my lady?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “I did not think we were visible up here. No one seemed to be looking up here anyway.”

“What if she is being followed? Surely she should have gone back inside that place with all the others like her.”

“There doesn’t seem to be anyone following. As far as I can see. The only ones left down there are those workers, and they’re back inside. Tacita,” I called, “bring the woman here so that we can see her properly.”

Still giggling hysterically, just like the ten year olds they half resembled, the two women clambered to their feet and rushed up towards us.

“My sister, Non!” Tacita cried as she threw herself down beside me, dragging down her companion. “This is Non, Catulla,” she said, as if introducing us. “And this is Eluned, her servant. They saved me. And now they can save you, too.” She laughed again. A weird, high-pitched screech of a laugh. The other woman simply sat saying nothing, stifling her giggles, her eyes wide, sunk in her pale cheeks as they were.

“Calm down,” I said, sounding like an old woman. “Calm down, Tacita. So this is your sister. She’s older than you, I think. What did she say her name was?”

“Catulla,” Tacita giggled.

“No, her Ovidian name.”

“I am Polyxena0741,” the woman said. She stopped giggling and made a futile attempt to cover herself with the rags she was wearing. “I am twenty-three. Strong. Willing to work hard.”

I looked at her. Her skin was certainly coarser than Tacita’s, much coarser than mine or Eluned’s, which suggested that she was older. She had a long red scar across her stomach, clearly visible in the gaps of her shift. But there was little to confirm that she was Tacita’s sister – they did not look at all alike.

“41,” I said. “You completed your Guard duty?”

“Yes, two years ago.”

“So what have you done since? Why is your shift in such a state?”

“I started in the Aula,” she said. “After Guard I was considered to be worthy of that. I had a beautiful ivory shift. I was so proud. Tacita, you would have been proud of me. It was what we both dreamed of becoming.”

“So what happened to change things?” I was intrigued. This was the first time I had spoken to someone who was actually living within the caster. Tacita and her dead friend, and the girl in the isolated house, had all been living in the ‘outland’ as they called it.

“One of the Leaders,” she said. She sounded very bitter.

“In the Aula?” Tacita said.

“No. Not in the Aula. The Aula Leaders were very good to us.”

“So where?” I said.

“His domum,” she continued, hesitatingly. “He asked me for assistance as I was going home one evening. It is our duty to assist a Leader if he asks for it. You know that, Tacita.”

Tacita nodded agreement.

“When I entered his domus he took me to his sleeping room. He told me to remove my shift and lie on the bed. When I refused he took a blade and cut me.” She pointed at the scar on her stomach. “Blood went everywhere. He threw me out. I just about made it back to the childless sector where some of the others bound me, using a spare shift. For three or four days I was too weak to get up. When I managed to stand up and walk I returned to the Aula but they would not let me in. I was told that a Leader had accused me of luring him.”

“Luring him?” I said. “What does that mean?”

“Some of the Leaders like to do things with the childless that they cannot do with their personal child-bearer,” Tacita said. “They know we will not take a child. But it is very painful. We are not prepared like the child-bearers.”