High The Vanes (The Change Book 2) (23 page)

“Could you not complain?” I said to Catulla, knowing what the answer was likely to be.

“A childless complain about a Leader?” Tacita said, laughing contemptuously. “Who would listen to that? Who would we complain to, even if we could?”

“So what happened to you, Catulla?” I asked.

“I was sent to be a servant to the workers. To clean their quarters. To be used for their enjoyment.”

I shuddered. What terrible lives these poor women had to lead.

“My lady, the door,” Eluned said, interrupting. As I looked down, the door at the back of the amphitheatrum was opening again. Two of the workers emerged, followed by a group of five who appeared to be shackled together at the neck. The other two workers came behind them. Once they were all outside, the door closed and the last light was turned off.

“It’s them,” I said. “The ones they are taking to Desolatio. We need to follow them.”

Catulla came alongside me and grasped my sleeve. “What are you doing?” she said.

“We need to follow those men,” I replied, hurtling down the slope as quickly as I could.

“But they are going to Desolatio,” she gasped, tripping and stumbling with me.

“Which is where I need to go,” I said. Small stones and bits of scrub were being dislodged and cascading before us as we careered down. At one point I skidded to a halt. The group of men, who mercifully had not heard or – worse – seen us, suddenly disappeared from view. “Where did they go?” I gasped, looking around.

“There,” Tacita said, pointing to the road that led to the caster. “They seem to be going into the caster.”

We carried on down until we reached the path next to the amphitheatrum. I had to put out my hands and use the glass wall to stop myself. Catulla and Tacita managed to bring themselves to a stop. Eluned, coming last, was followed by a hail of stones which crashed into the glass. For a moment the group of men paused, but since we were hidden in the darkness, they saw nothing and carried on.

Catching my breath, I ran along the path, rounding the curve and nearly colliding with the huge gateway. “Are they going into the caster?” I asked Catulla, who was still keeping up with me, although she had released her hold on my sleeve.

“No, they will go around the outside. Watch.”

As the group neared the gate, which now looked absolutely huge from where we were, they suddenly turned to the right. Close to the red stone wall, which soared above them, they headed towards the far corner. When they were what I considered to be a safe distance along the wall, I whispered, “Come on,” and the four of us made a dash along the road until we reached the shelter of the wall to the right of the gateway. As we watched, the men turned the corner and were lost to sight again.

“We must keep up,” I said as we jogged along the narrow path. “We cannot afford to lose them now.” But when we reached the corner and peered around there was, at first, no sign of them. “No,” I moaned. “Where can they have gone?”

“There,” Eluned said, pointing. Some way off, in the direction of the river which ran past this wall of the caster, I could just make them out. They were certainly moving quickly, particularly considering that five of them were shackled together. We set off again. For Eluned and I the half-walking, half-running that we kept up was no real problem, but it soon became obvious that the other two were having difficulty keeping up. Tacita slowly dropped behind us, and, before we reached the bank of the river, Catulla had fallen even further behind.

The path that ran alongside the river was perfectly flat and, even in the darkness, faintly visible a long way ahead. The group of men could still be seen, although they seemed to be outstripping us. I stopped, keeping my eye on the dwindling group. As Tacita caught up with us she leaned forward with her hands on her knees, breathing in shallow gasps. Catulla eventually made it, collapsing onto her knees.

I looked at the pair of them. They were obviously not as fit as they thought they were. “We must keep the group in sight,” I said. “You’ve got to do better than this.”

Between gasps, Catulla said, “I know. Where they’re going. This path. Only goes to one place. Will take some time. No need to rush.” She looked up at me. “Really. Can’t breathe.”

“How can you know that?” I said, staring at her.

“Been here. Before. With a Leader. Took me. With a child-bearer.” Slowly, she recovered her breath.

“And this Leader brought you down here? Why would he do that?”

“It was not his personal child-bearer. She belonged to another. He knew of a place where they could do it. Without being seen.”

“Except by you, presumably.”

“They needed me to hold their clothes. I wandered off. It was too uncomfortable. I saw a wire fence. And gates. On the end of the path. I think that must be where they put those condemned to Desolatio.”

I was half-inclined to question her further about this episode, as I was worried that she might not be telling the truth, or that she had mistaken the path now it was dark.

“Are you sure about this?” I said.

“Yes, yes,” she replied. “If we walk along this path I will show you the place where they … you know, where they ...”

“Yes, I know what you mean. You are sure this was the path? And that this path led to the fence?”

She nodded vigorously.

Eluned had listened to this discussion. “Do all the men, the so-called Leaders, act in this way in this caster?” she said.

“All the time,” Tacita said. “Some of the Leaders have too little to do. They get bored so they look for women who will lie with them. They will usually take a childless, especially those who do not work in the Aula. No one cares what happens to them. But sometimes they prefer a child-bearer. They are better prepared. And if their personal child-bearer is carrying a child, they will choose another.”

“This place has no morality, my lady,” Eluned said. I was as shocked as she was. Most especially at the calm way Tacita recited this tale of debauchery. It was as if it was totally acceptable - ‘normal’ - behaviour.

“Show us the way, then,” I said to Catulla. The group of men had long since disappeared into the distance. I had no option but to trust that she was telling the truth. As they had both recovered I let them take the lead. Eluned and I plodded slowly along behind them.

Since the path was made of a light-coloured gravel it remained faintly visible despite the dark, and the river along which it ran was almost silent. Occasionally a tree would loom out of the night, but the path would simply curve around it. It was some considerable time before Catulla came to a stop.

“Here,” she said, pointing to the side of the path away from the river. “They did it here. We are not far from the fence now.”

The place she indicated was not, as far as I could see, any different to any other part of the path we were following, but she sounded convinced and, once again, we followed as she set off. Before long I spotted a wire fence to our left. Set some way back from the path, it was high, far too high to climb over. The top leaned outward and was covered in sharp, knife-like objects.

“Is this the fence?” I asked Catulla, walking alongside her.

“Yes,” she said. “And the gate is not too far from here. There! Look.”

She pointed ahead, where the fence turned and ran down to the river. Where it crossed the path there was a double gate. It was just as high, but did not have the part that leaned out. There did not appear to be anybody guarding the gate, which I had half-expected, given that the Change seemed to fear nothing these days.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked.

“We carry on. That is what you wish, isn’t it?” Tacita said. There was a slight mocking tone to her voice which I had not heard before.

“What about the gate?”

“What about the gate? Ah, you think it will be locked, don’t you? Not likely.” She walked up to the gate and calmly pushed one side open. She turned. “See? Nothing is locked. Is it, Catulla?”

“Why would it be locked?” Catulla asked, astonished at the suggestion.

“Who knows?” I said as we passed through. Behind us, the gate quietly closed.

Catulla took a few paces inside the gate and stopped. “I did not come as far as this, you understand. When I saw the gate I returned to where the other two were. By the time I reached them they had finished their business.”

As we walked along, I was still pondering why the gates were not locked. And why there was such a high, dangerous-looking fence if that was the case. “Don’t they think those inside the fence would wish to escape?” I asked.

“Why would they wish to escape?” Tacita asked. Again her tone was slightly mocking.

“Well, Desolatio is a punishment, isn’t it?”

“Of course.”

“Wouldn’t those who are condemned to Desolatio wish to escape this punishment if they could?”

“I don’t understand. You keep talking of ‘escape’. If you are punished, it is your duty to accept that punishment. Surely you saw that at the Concilium. Did those women condemned to death try to escape? Of course they didn’t. It was their punishment. They accepted it. For the good of the Change. Nothing is done that is not for the good of the Change.”

“So those men who have presumably been brought here will simply accept the fact. Without question.”

“Without question. To question their punishment would be to question the Change. Who would wish to do that?”

“You,” I said, smiling at her. “Me. Your sister. What are you doing if not ‘questioning’ the Change?”

“We have not been punished. The matter is different. You wanted to know why people would not wish to escape from Desolatio. I have given you the reason. What Catulla and I are doing is a different matter entirely.”

“You think so?” I could not believe what I was hearing.

“Of course I think so. I chose to join you. To give up my duties as a Guard. That is not a crime. It will not help me should I choose to return to my caster, but it is not a crime. Why are you here, Catulla?”

“To be with you,” she said. “I did not know you were with these women. I still do not know why they are here. Or even who they are. But I am with you now. Sisters together.”

“So you see. Neither of us is a criminal. We can return. If we wish. When we wish. We are both childless. No one will notice our absence. No one would record our return. You, on the other hand.” She paused.

“What about me?” I said.

Tacita turned to her sister. “Non claims that she left the Change in 2065. Do you think that is possible?”

“You mean 2265,” Catulla giggled.

“No. She claims to have left in 2065. Over two hundred years ago. Yet, as you see, she is not much older than me. Younger than you.”

“This is some sort of joke, isn’t it? You’re trying to make me look foolish. You always used to do that when we were in Schola.”

“Not at all. She says she is the ‘Expected One’. Eluned calls her ‘my lady’. Did you not hear her say that? She says she doesn’t know what it means to be the ‘Expected One’, but she doesn’t deny it. Do you, Non? Oh Expected One.”

I was becoming increasingly irritated by her attitude, which seemed to have developed after her sister had joined us.

“It was your choice to accompany us, Tacita,” I said. “Yours and yours alone. You said you knew what the consequences would be, yet you came anyway. I have explained what I believe is expected of me – which I assure you I do know, Catulla – although I may not be sure, yet, how I am to achieve my goal. What I have seen since we arrived at Deva Caster, as well as what I saw in Salopian Caster, together with what Catulla has told us of life here, has convinced me that something must be done.”

“She’s going to change the Change,” Tacita laughed. Her sister joined in. “Can you believe it? A two hundred year old mad woman seriously thinks she can make a difference to our lives.”

“She is not two hundred years old,” Catulla said, still laughing. “But I think she’s certainly mad. Perhaps we should leave here in Desolatio. She can make friends with all the other madmen and women who live here.”

“Good idea,” Tacita said. “Come on, let’s you and me go back to the caster. They can stay here and pretend they are the ‘Expected Ones’. Will that be all right, my lady?”

She turned, grasped her sister’s hand and headed back to the gate. Just before she reached it, Catulla slipped free and walked back towards us. “Do you seriously believe...” she started to say.

There was a blinding flash which almost knocked us off our feet. When my eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness it was to see something I hope I will never see again. The gate remained closed, but a detached hand clung to it, while an incinerated body lay smoking beneath it. Eluned grabbed Catulla as she started to dash forward.

“No,” I yelled. “You cannot help her. I knew there would be security. I knew it.”

Catulla yelled and screeched and kicked, thrashing about as Eluned held her fast, until, exhausted, she collapsed like a rag doll. Eluned laid her down on the side of the path, and sat down beside her, still holding one limp hand. I knelt down.

“I did warn your sister,” I said, quietly. “I knew there had to be a reason for the fence and the gates.”

“What does this mean, my lady? Eluned asked.

“It means that you can enter the compound, but you cannot leave. There is no danger to those on the outside, but for those inside, the danger is fatal. I have never seen such a thing before.”

Catulla, still sobbing, sat up, rubbing her thin arms. “So long since we were together,” she said. “And now she is gone. Why? Why?”

“She was too hasty,” I said. “She came all this way with us, willingly. She gave up her duties as a Guard, willingly. Yet in the end she could not free herself from the shackles of the Change.”

She looked up at me. “I don’t understand. What shackles?”

“You, your sister, everyone, is trapped in this world. You may try to escape its hold, but in the end you can’t. It’s as simple as that. It draws you back in, no matter how hard you try. Why did you decide to join us?”

“To be with my sister, of course.”