Noman (16 page)

More bands of Orlans had passed her on the road, without paying her any attention. And now here before her was their destination, the gathering of Orlans. A large fire had been lit in the ruined hall of the old fort, which stood open to the road. Round the fire milled hundreds of Orlans, greeting each other and embracing. Each new band of arrivals dismounted and left their Caspians to graze among the rubble, then went to swell the numbers in the roofless hall.

Morning Star did not follow them, made wary by her treatment at the hands of Alva Jahan and his men. Silent and unseen, she climbed a mound of fallen stones to a position from which she could look over the whole scene. Here she settled down and searched the firelit crowd. She was looking for the new Jahan.

Her vantage point was some way distant from the fort. The road lay between them. Night had now fallen, and she could not distinguish faces, but she could pick out the faint glow of the Orlans' colors. At the far end of the hall, men were fixing torches on either side of a raised stone platform, and by the light of the torches, she could make out drummers and pipers assembling nearby.

Her attention was distracted from this scene by the sound of hoofbeats on the road. She turned and saw a latearriving band of mounted Orlans approaching; but unlike the others, they came silently in the darkness. Their leader called them to a halt, keeping his voice low.

It was Alva Jahan. Morning Star saw the sullen glow of his colors and knew that he had come in anger.

I should have killed him by the well.

The band he led had grown in size. There were a hundred and more mounted men lined up on the road behind him. They waited while he rode forward and gazed towards the gathering in the old fort. As he stared, the drums began to beat and the pipes to play. Morning Star too looked to the platform at the far end of the roofless hall. There, serenaded by music, veiled by the rising smoke of the fire, the new Jahan presented himself before his people. She caught the glint of flame reflected on a silver breastplate and heard the Orlans cheer. Was it Seeker they cheered?

Alva Jahan returned to his waiting men.

"Orlans," he said, keeping his voice low, "our moment has come. One charge will end the shame of our nation. Are you with me?"

"Aye," they answered softly in the night.

"We have only one enemy—this impostor, this thief of honor, this false Jahan! Follow me, for the pride of the Orlan nation! One death is all I ask!"

Morning Star heard every word. She saw Alva position himself at the head of his mounted band. She looked to the old fort where the mass of Orlans were gathered round the platform, their backs to their silent enemy, listening to the exhortations of their new leader. Morning Star knew Seeker's great power, but the speed and surprise of the charge might catch him off guard. She could call out and alert the men in the hall to the danger, but a battle would follow and men would die. There was another way.

She dropped silently from her vantage point and padded to the road.

Alva Jahan drew his sword. Morning Star, unseen in the night, touched the arm of a mounted Orlan. Startled, he turned to look down at her.

"Sleep," she whispered.

He slid from his horse to the ground and lay there in a deep sleep. Morning Star stroked the Caspian's brow and swung herself up onto his back. The Caspian shivered and adjusted to her weight.

"Go!" cried Alva, low but fierce.

He set off at their head, and the hundred Orlans followed in a compact mass. Morning Star had exhausted her strength, but she still had her gift. She must force her thoughts to stillness. Riding behind the warriors heading into battle, she filled her mind with a simple memory. In her mind she was sitting on the hillside next to her father, watching the dawn. She was filling herself with calm.

Alva increased his speed. The Orlans, and Morning Star with them, increased their speed. The firelit gathering ahead came closer. Cheers sounded from the old fort.

Morning Star urged her Caspian forward and caused him to brush against his neighbor. With this touch, she sent her own colors flowing out like a lick of blue flame, and the Orlan beside her was embraced by the calm spirit that now possessed her. At the same time, his horse jostled the next, and the colors jumped from rider to rider. Even as Alva Jahan was spurring his Caspian to greater speed,
his followers were beginning to fall back. The front line slowed, forcing the lines behind to press against them. So Morning Star's embrace caught them, too.

Alva Jahan had eyes only for the hated enemy ahead. Now choosing his moment and not looking back, he raised his sword high and cried, "Charge!"

He charged, but all unaware, he charged alone. The rest of his Orlans had slowed to a trot and were now looking about them with puzzled expressions.

"What's he so worked up about?" they asked each other. "We're all friends here."

Alva's lone charge caught the gathering of Orlans from behind and by surprise, just as he had intended. They threw themselves out of his way as he thundered across the great hall, howling his war cry as he went. Morning Star rode forward at speed, eager to follow the outcome.

Only the Jahan saw him coming. Through the smoke of the fire, Morning Star saw the Jahan draw a slender spike and raise it high. Alva closed on the platform, roaring to his men, "Follow me!" The Jahan's right arm flicked, and a flash of bright metal flew through the air. Alva fell.

It all happened so quickly that the men in the hall barely knew there had been any danger before it was over. Now they pushed round the fallen man and saw who he was. Morning Star heard shouts of anger. The Jahan himself was obscured from her view by his men. She heard a voice of the Jahan issuing orders she could not make out. She saw men bend low over the body, while others surrounded the Caspian on which he had made his charge. She saw ropes tied round the Caspian's neck and haunches.
Then they stood back, and a whip cracked. The Caspian bucked in alarm. The whips cracked again, goading the horse into motion. After it a long rope unfurled. Tied by the ankles to the rope was the dead body of Alva Jahan.

Morning Star watched as the horse bolted, dragging the dead body, bouncing over rubble and dirt, behind it. For all her hatred of the dead man, she felt sickened by the sight. It dismayed her that Seeker could give such an order.

She moved forward into the heart of the hall. Behind her, the Orlans who had followed Alva Jahan were dismounting and mingling with their former comrades, saying nothing of their brief allegiance to the dead man.

The Jahan was still standing on the platform, now surrounded by Orlan captains, all talking in animated voices about Alva's strange and suicidal charge.

"How could he attack like that, all on his own?" Morning Star heard. "He must have lost his wits."

"One throw, one kill!" said another, speaking admiringly to the Jahan.

Morning Star pushed on through the throng of excited warriors, drawing surprised looks as she went, but no one stopped her. Only when she was close to the platform did one of the Orlans raise the alarm.

"Who's that? What's she doing here?"

The group on the platform now parted, and Morning Star saw the Jahan clearly for the first time. She gaped in astonishment. The leader now staring at her so imperiously was a woman.

"Who are you?" demanded the Jahan.

"My name is Morning Star."

The Jahan frowned and looked more closely.

"I know you," she said.

Morning Star knew her, too. Impossible though it seemed, the Jahan was the Wildman's bandit friend Caressa.

Signalling to her men, Caressa turned away, as if no longer interested.

"She's a spy. Lock her up. I'll deal with her later."

Morning Star offered no resistance. She let herself be pushed through a doorway, and the door was closed after her. She heard the bang of a beam dropping into place to lock it shut.

She found herself in a square stone-walled space. Unusual for this ruined fort, all four walls were solid. She looked up and realized that this was the base of the watchtower. The tower rose above her, stone walls supporting timber beams, until the ruins took over again and the broken masonry gaped open to the sky.

From the other side of the door came sounds of laughter and singing as the now united Orlans celebrated their new leader. The night was clear, and the moon was shining. Morning Star brushed clear a strip of ground to be a bed for the night.

She was about to lie down when she heard the sound of the beam being lifted from the door. The door opened, and in came Caressa. The door closed after her, and the beam was replaced.

For a few moments Caressa stood looking at Morning Star in silence. Morning Star could see from her colors that she was in no danger. The new Jahan of the Orlans had come alone, to talk.

"I remember you," she said at last. "You were with him."

"I don't know who you mean."

"Don't lie to me, girly. I'm talking about the Wildman."

"Yes. I was with the Wildman."

Morning Star remembered it well: how they had met in Spikertown and Caressa had struck her and she had hit back. Caressa had said to the Wildman then, "You're mine or you're nobody's."

Caressa was watching her closely.

"They say he has an army now."

"Yes, he has."

"You've seen him with his army?"

"Yes."

"How is he? Is he beautiful? Is he fine?"

"Yes."

Suddenly Caressa began to rage.

"Now I have an army too, and my army will destroy him! I'll hunt him down and have him dragged before me on his knees and he'll beg me for mercy! I'll make him wish he'd never turned his back on me! I'll make him sweat and piss and cry and kiss my feet and die for wanting me!"

Morning Star saw it all clearly in the racing reds of her aura, the hurt and the anger and the undying love.

"He's unhappy," she said.

"Unhappy! I'll teach him to be unhappy!" But the information pleased her. "How's he unhappy? Why's he unhappy?"

"He's alone."

"Whose fault is that? I'm glad he's unhappy. Let him suffer."

But with every word Caressa's fury was subsiding.

"Does he have a woman?"

"No."

"How about you?"

"No."

"No, he wouldn't want a shrimp like you."

This reminded Caressa that the Wildman had not wanted her either, and her rage returned.

"I'll smash his army and take him prisoner and lock him up till he loves me!"

"I don't think that's how it works," said Morning Star.

"What do you know?" retorted Caressa. "Men are all fools about love. Leave them free to choose for themselves and they never love anyone at all. Lock them up! Tell them they have no choice! Then they get on with it."

A new thought struck her.

"You want him for yourself? Sure you do. All the girls want the Wildman."

"I did once," said Morning Star. "Not any more."

"Gave up hoping, did you? That was smart. You'd never have a chance."

"Why is that?" said Morning Star softly. "Because I'm sweet and dull, like a bun?"

"You said it, girly."

Morning Star was tempted, very tempted. But she restrained herself.

"What do you mean to do with me?"

"You? Nothing. You don't matter."

"So you'll let me go?"

"Not yet. I'll not have you blabbing to the men about me and the Wildman. No, you stay where you are."

With that, she banged on the door and it was opened for her.

"Keep her here till we leave," she said to the men outside.

And so the door was locked after her.

Morning Star lay down to sleep at last. As she lay there in the moonlight, she found herself smiling at a picture in her mind. In this picture the Wildman was in prison, and Caressa, in her armor, was standing beyond the barred door saying, "Well? Do you love me yet?"

Who knows? thought Morning Star as she slipped into the sleep she so desperately needed. It might be as good a way as any other.

S
EEKER AND
E
CHO FOLLOWED THE HIGH ROAD UNTIL IT
met the old wall. Passing through what had once been a fortified gateway, Seeker took a new road running east.

"You seem to know your way after all," said Echo.

"We're in the old kingdom now."

"What old kingdom?"

"The wall was built by Noman, a great king long ago. It was to protect his kingdom."

Echo looked at the mounds of tumbled stones on either side.

"Doesn't seem to have protected it very well."

"The kingdom's long gone. Noman lived over two hundred years ago."

"So what do you want in the old kingdom?" Echo asked.

"A gathering of people."

"Are you to be the new king?"

"No. I've no wish to be a king."

"Why not?" said Echo. "There must be kings. If not you, who?"

"I have other work to do."

In a little while they came to a roadside stall with a smoking brazier. The stallholder was dozing beneath a faded canopy. Hearing their approach, he woke up and prodded his brazier to a brighter heat and began to call out his wares.

"Pancakes! Sweet tea!"

Seeker came to a stop and bent his head into his hands.

"Are you all right?" said Echo.

"It'll pass in a moment."

"You need food and drink."

"I've no money."

"Leave this to me," said Echo.

She dismounted and went up to the stallholder, who was a sturdy young man with a heavy lower lip.

"Hallo again," she said. "Remember me?"

The stallholder gaped at her.

"I never forget a face," said Echo, "but remind me of your name."

"Coddy," said the stallholder.

"Coddy! Of course."

She looked at him expectantly. Coddy looked back, perplexed.

"You don't remember me, do you?" said Echo.

"No, I don't."

"I thought we were friends."

"Did you?"

The young man saw the reproach in her lovely eyes and felt that in some way he must be to blame.

"That's all right," said Echo, making her voice small and sad. "You must meet so many people. You can't remember them all."