The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) (64 page)

“Will you be all right?”

“Absolutely.” He sounded as confident as he could manage. “It seems that there are…people here. We are staying put for tonight. Then we’ll see if we can find out more about them. How are things in Sakara?”

There was a silence. Lyall was beginning to think that the connection had somehow been lost. Then the Ring glowed once more.

Oliah’s voice sounded small and distant.
“The city has fallen.”

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Chapter 9

Lyall listened intently to Oliah’s voice, transfixed by the Ring’s intermittent emerald glow.
“It happened overnight. The Keltar dropped in out of the sky and took control of the Guildhall. They are holding most of the Guild Heads in ‘protective custody’. Soon afterward, the Prophet’s troops began moving into the city. There are companies of soldiers on every street corner. The Asoli are nowhere to be seen. No-one seems to know why. Some say they are cowering in their homes, too frightened to show themselves; others claim that they have made a secret pact with the authorities in Chalimar.”

It didn’t make sense. It would take a sizeable amount of troops to hold the port city–not to mention the number of Keltar that must be committed to the occupation. Up until now, Chalimar had been content to let the Guilds have a free hand in return for a healthy tariff. Something had changed. But what? A shortage of Kelanni tributes? No, that couldn’t be it. The towns and villages under the Prophet’s heel had more than enough fit young people to replace those who died from heat and exhaustion in the ore camps. What, then? He voiced his concern. “Why would the Prophet make such a move now?”

“Lodestone.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Chalimar authorities appear to have discovered that the Guilds were illicitly trading in lodestone. That’s the declared reason for the takeover. They claim the Guild Master violated his accord with the Prophet.”

Lyall felt his palms go sweaty despite the cold. He was the one who had formulated the plan to refit their ship with lodestone to enable them to cross the Barrier, and it was he who had prevailed upon Patris to use his contacts in order to obtain the stone. Was it conceivable that his plan had precipitated the invasion of the city? No–it was impossible. There was no way that the Prophet would dispatch that quantity of men and resources over five levia weights of lodestone. There was something here he was not seeing. “What about you, Oliah? Are you safe?”

“For the moment, yes. The Thief Guild has already been outlawed. The edict was purported to be from the Guild Master himself, but no-one believes that–at least, no-one believes he would have signed such an order willingly. However, the Keltar have ordered that all Skippers be arrested and detained.”

“Skippers?”

“It’s the name given to those who oversee the thief gangs. It harkens back to the time when the gangs would regularly take to sea as privateers. Patris is one, if he didn’t already tell you. It’s a good thing he’s not in Sakara right now. Do you know when he’s due to return?”

“Well, the truth of the matter is, we brought him through the Barrier with us.”

“You did what?”

“It wasn’t planned that way. The launch was damaged. Then he was…knocked out. We had no choice but to take him with us.”

“Well, perhaps it’s for the best. However strange it is where you are, I suspect it’s probably safer for him there than it is here right now.”

“I’m sorry. I wish there was something we could do to help.”

“Lyall, how much do you know about Sakara and its people?”

“I stayed there with Alondo a few turns back–we were not there for long. Not much, I suppose.”

“Well, I have lived here all my life. It has been a free port for nearly two hundred turns. Sakarans have a unique way of life and they’re not going to give it up without a fight. Taking this city is one thing; holding onto it is going to be quite another. The thief gangs know the city inside out: water conduits, sewers, back alleys and long forgotten passages. Rumour has it that the Prophet’s soldiers haven’t managed to arrest a single Skipper.”

“Tell your people to be careful, Oliah. I know the Prophet’s minions and what they are capable of.”

“I will. Can I speak with Alondo now?”

“Of course. Give me a few moments.” Lyall started back toward their hastily erected camp. The cold, crisp air keened his senses. Breaths condensed in wisps in front of his face, curling and vanishing into the night. His mind chased implications. The reasons for the Prophet’s bold move were still unclear, but Lyall was convinced of one thing; somehow, they involved lodestone. That could indicate that the Prophet’s agenda was moving forward. They might not have much time left.

Yet danger walked hand in hand with opportunity. Occupying the port city was a major gamble; the forces at the Keep must surely be stretched wafer-thin. Something told Lyall that when the time came, the final confrontation would occur there. If so, then they might actually stand a chance of overthrowing the tyranny. Sakara might yet prove to be the Prophet’s greatest mistake.

~

Bleary eyes greeted the slate grey dawn. The tiny fire Keris had built from loose, broken timbers and odd pieces of driftwood had long faded to smouldering charcoal. Lyall passed around meagre rations of flatbread and freezing water melted from fresh snow.

Alondo had a haunted look. Speaking with Oliah the previous evening had drawn him out a little, but the situation in Sakara was a new worry. He heard the musician keep saying, “Make sure you’re safe…Keep yourself safe.” At first Alondo had insisted that she leave the city at once, but she had explained that there were troops blocking all of the exits. Eventually, he broke the news about Shann and Boxx, and as the Ring gently luminesced Lyall heard the faint sounds of weeping.

Patris had returned later that night and lain down, wrapping himself in a roughly woven blanket. No words were exchanged. At first light, he roused himself with the others and accepted a piece of bread in brooding silence.

Lyall looked around at the others. Keris, sitting on her haunches. Alert. Eyes flicking over the desolate beach, ready to spring into action in an instant. Alondo, huddled in a blanket, his carefree demeanour lost amid the worry lines creasing his forehead. They were a ragtag group of misfits–and he included himself in that description. Somehow he had to pull them all together. “It’s time to leave.”

“Where are we going?” Alondo asked from under his blanket.

“We are going to find the people of this world and introduce ourselves,” Lyall said lightly.

Keris rose to her feet in one smooth movement. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“What do you mean?” Lyall asked.

“We know nothing about these people,” she declared.

“We know that they possess powerful machines,” Lyall pointed out. “That suggests they could be powerful allies.”

“Yes, but they could also constitute powerful enemies,” Keris said. “We should proceed with caution.”

Lyall frowned. “What are you proposing?”

“I suggest you all wait here. I will scout them–determine their location and strength. Then we can decide whether to make contact.”

Lyall nodded thoughtfully. “I appreciate your prudence, Keris, and if circumstances were different, I would probably go along with that. But the invasion of Sakara means that events are moving rapidly. We have to act quickly if we are to stop the Prophet’s scheme. That means securing these peoples’ co-operation, even if that entails some risk.

“We will travel together. When we find the inhabitants of this world, I will approach them alone. Are we all agreed?”

Patris rose to his feet and gathered his meagre belongings. “Go ahead and play Skipper over these people if you want. But leave me out of it.”

“Where are you going?” Keris demanded.

“Back,” he replied tersely.

“How?” Keris asked.

“I’ll find a way.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to split up,” Lyall reasoned. “We have no idea what dangers lie on this side. We should stick together.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Patris began walking up the beach. Lyall started after him, but Keris placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned and she shook her head. She felt his muscles sag in defeat. Patris continued walking until he was out of sight. He did not look back once.

~

The three of them picked their way across barren heath land. Slick stones, damp purple moss and patches of melting ice made the going treacherous. Alondo slipped and stumbled more than once. Lyall offered to carry the musician’s instrument, but he declined. “I think I should hang onto it. You never know when you might be in need of a song or two.” Lyall smiled inwardly. It was good to see him regaining some of his bonhomie. “I don’t see how anyone could survive here,” he continued.

“Me neither,” Lyall agreed. “Perhaps they simply remain in those machines of theirs.”

Alondo looked up at the leaden sky. His voice became wistful. “A machine that flies. I would certainly love to get a look at one of those.”

“If all goes well, then maybe you will,” Lyall replied.

Keris had been quiet for some time. Lyall knew better than to invade her silence and try to drag her out of it. The former Keltar would speak in her own way and in her own time. She chose now to break in. “And what if it does not go well?”

Lyall smiled. “Then it will be up to you and Alondo.”

Keris shook her head. “We cannot afford to lose any more people. Your plan is ill advised.”

“I agree with Keris,” Alondo said. “You shouldn’t put yourself at risk.”

“If we are going to get Annata’s machine working again and find the instrument she was talking about, we are going to need their help.” Lyall insisted.

“There is a better way,” she said.

“I told you,” Lyall said firmly, “we don’t have the time to observe them from afar. Besides, if they were to discover us spying on them–”

“I’m talking about the Chandara,” Keris cut in.

“The Chandara?
What do you mean?” Lyall asked.

“At the Great Tree, Annata said that Boxx was the ‘key’ to using the instrument,” she began. “I don’t know want that means exactly. But she also said that if anything went wrong, then we should seek out the Chandara here. She said they would be able to direct us to where the device we need is concealed.”

Lyall extended a sweeping hand, taking in the desolate moor with its sparse vegetation. In the distance, snow-capped peaks rose up above a blanket of mist. “Where do you suggest we start, Keris? It’s a big world, and…”
A low thrumming sound.
“Do you hear that?”

Keris had already drawn her staff and was circling rapidly. Suddenly she pointed.
“There.”

A silver dart swept in from the north, the note from its engines rising as it approached. The three of them stood, transfixed, as it grew rapidly. Heading straight for them. The sleek vessel loomed large, filling their vision. The moment had come.

The faces of those he had known swam before his vision: Rainer, courageous as a vara-cat; fair haired Wenda; Perata, Ennas’ two older sons, Mendar and Nefin–all lost at Persillan; his mother and father; and lastly Aune, his beloved sister, light brown hair framing an all too innocent face. He stepped forward, arms outstretched as if to embrace them all. A voice from behind. “Get down.”
A blinding flash.
Then the darkness closed over him.

~

Keris watched in horror as a bright beam emanated from the front of the flying machine. It struck the ground next to Lyall, flinging him sideways to the ground.

As the craft passed overhead, the droning fell once more in pitch. Keris flung herself forward, getting her arm under Lyall and turning him over. He was alive, but his eyelids were fluttering.
Idiot.
His bravery was going to get them all killed.