Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series (45 page)

‘Whatever did you do to
them Shan?’ Bagri chuckled, sitting opposite Jilla.

‘Gave them a talking
to,’ Shan retorted. ‘Ryla forgets everything when she is on the
trail of something new. You just have to be firm with
her.’

Jilla looked doubtful.
‘She is so very old and so thin. I would be terrified of upsetting
her lest she became ill.’

Shan snorted. ‘Old and
frail they may both seem, but tough as old leather
inside.’

‘So. Having gained our
escape from yet more questions on the drainage and irrigation
systems in the Vagrantian Circles, what do you plan for us today?’
Bagri poured more tea as he spoke.

Shan stared at him. ‘Is
that truly what they have been asking about?’

‘It is indeed,’ Jilla
answered with a grimace. ‘Our world is beset with strange portents
and we spent all of yesterday discussing drainage.’

The door opened to
admit Soran. He saluted but also offered a smile.

‘I was told you might
need me Shan?’

Shan blushed furiously
and muttered something beneath her breath. ‘Only if you have any
suggestions on entertaining Jilla and Bagri as a change from them
being closeted in the hall all day.’

He shrugged. ‘The snow
is nearly gone from the ground, the day is bright although chilly.
Inspect Lorak’s gardens why don’t you? I have been told that you
should not leave the Estate lands though,’ he added.

‘Did you know that the
Assembly has not been informed of our guests?’ Shan
demanded.

Bagri and Jill looked
startled while Soran appeared uncomfortable.

‘I am only Captain of
Guards Shan. I answer first to the Golden Lady and Senior Ryla
stands in her place for now.’ He saluted Bagri and Jilla. ‘I have
matters to attend to, but I will join you later if that is
agreeable.’

The Vagrantians nodded
and Soran left the dining chamber.

‘What is it Shan?’
Jilla asked.

Shan was slumped into a
chair, her head in her hands. Jilla had become fond of Shan when
they had first met in Parima. She admired the girl’s determination
to protect her Lady Emla in spite of her obvious fear and confusion
at finding herself in completely unknown surroundings. Shan’s blue
eyes shone with tears when she looked up.

‘I was only Lady Emla’s
personal maid. Then I asked to train at arms. Lady Emla calls me
her personal Guard now, although I have so much still to learn of
weaponry.’ She chewed her lower lip. ‘If I am a Guard, I should
answer to Soran as my Captian. Yet you heard how I spoke to him
just then. And speaking to those old ones as I did – I am ashamed.’
One large tear slid down Shan’s cheek.

‘Oh Shan,’ Jilla
smiled. ‘It is only because you care that you spoke so. I am sure
Lady Emla would have done exactly the same. Bagri and I do not see
you as a maid, or as a Guard, despite that sword at your side. We
see you as a friend in a strange place, and we accept your
invitation to show us the Lady’s gardens’

Shan did not seem
entirely convinced by Jilla’s argument but she rose and suggested
she send for their cloaks: it was still far cooler in Gaharn than
it had been in Parima Circle.

Shan led them away from
the great House, past the pool where golden swimmers moved lazily
among the water plants. Bagri wanted an explanation of why the
water did not freeze and Shan gave him a wildly inaccurate
description of heated pipes.

Jilla laughed. ‘Please
Bagri, no more mention of water, pipes, or drains
today.’

They emerged from a
tour of Lorak’s hot houses, where flowers and fruits grew in a
profusion of scent and colour. A silver blue Dragon sat on his
haunches, blocking their way. His eyes whirred a darker blue and
the sun winked and sparkled off his scales.

‘You have not really
met any of the Dragons properly have you? This is Farn’s brother,
Ikram.’

Ikram reared erect.
‘May the stars guide your path,’ he said politely, dropping down
again as one pale green and one mauvy blue Dragon bustled round the
corner, nearly crashing into him.

‘Ikram’s sister Nya,
and Hani’s daughter Lilli.’ Shan continued the introductions. She
narrowed her eyes at the three young Dragons. ‘What are you up to?
Where are the other two?’

Nya huffed and a wisp
of smoke curled from her nose. ‘They are listening to one of Hani’s
lessons. We are – um – studying plants.’

Jilla chuckled. ‘Most
of the plants are either still in their cold season sleep or under
snow. Which plants are you studying then?’

Nya’s eyes whirred
faster but Lilli replied first. ‘We look at the strange ones in the
hot place.’

Shan was aghast. ‘You
are not allowed in there! What are you really up to?’

A muffled grunt came
from behind an adjacent clump of shrubs.

‘Don’t you three move,’
Shan ordered, and went to investigate the shrubs.

Curses began to drift
to them until Shan dragged forth the dishevelled figure of Grib,
Lorak’s second in command.

‘They Dragons pushed me
in there,’ he complained bitterly. ‘Asked me for a drop of old
Lorak’s beverage they did. I told ’em no, and I’m stuck in they
bushes for ’alf a morning!’

Soran had arrived in
time to hear Grib’s words. With an admirably blank expression, he
turned to the three Dragons who were now fidgeting guiltily from
foot to foot.

‘It is a serious matter
that you assault our gardener,’ he began. ‘It is also a serious
matter that you ask him for something quite unsuitable for you, and
which he quite correctly, refused to give you. You will return to
the guest pavilion and your mother this instant. You will tell her
what you have done, and I,’ he fixed each with a firm look, ‘will
shortly visit Hani to be sure you have told her all.’ He folded his
arms. ‘You will apologise to Grib before you go.’

Apologies made, the
Dragons made their reluctant way back to Hani.

‘They don’t mean no
real ’arm,’ said Grib, watching Ikram’s tail sideswipe a small
bush. ‘They be so full of energy and it do turn to mischief too
easy.’

‘I know Grib,’ Soran
smiled. ‘But they must not get into the habit of pushing people
into shrubberies.’

Grib crammed a
misshapen article onto his bald head and stumped off, muttering to
himself.

‘And I fear I will have
to move with caution for the next few days,’ said Soran ruefully.
‘They have ways of causing no end of minor “accidents” we have
discovered, to our cost!’

As the four walked on,
Soran added: ‘Another scroll came through the circle. From the
Stronghold. Lady Ryla has already asked a Merig to relay a message
to Lady Tika in Sapphrea.’

‘Not bad news?’ Shan
asked.

Soran shrugged. ‘The
Dragon Lord insists that Lady Tika keeps away from Lord Rhaki for
the time being. That was only the first message though – there
seemed to be a great many papers in the tube but the Wise One and
Lady Ryla did not say anything to me about them. No doubt they will
tell you later,’ he smiled at Jilla and Bagri.

‘Would it be possible
for me to see how your Guards train, Soran?’ Bagri
asked.

‘Of course. We can go
now if you wish.’ Soran looked questioningly at Jilla who shook her
head.

‘I’d prefer to stay out
in these gardens,’ she said.

‘You go,’ said Shan.
‘We will meet later for the midday meal.’

‘You cannot imagine how
amazing this is,’ Jilla said softly, turning right round on the
spot.

‘What is?’

‘Our Circles are large:
we have farms and woodland and open spaces. But always, in
whichever direction you look, there is the high rim of the craters
encircling us. Here, I can see so very far and there is no wall to
block my view.’

‘But the walls have
kept you safe?’

Jilla sighed. ‘They
have indeed. Generations of us. But now, with this affliction among
us, I had begun to wonder if the walls had not turned into a
trap.’

Chapter
Thirty

It was with enormous
relief that Ren caught his first glimpse of Oblaka in the distance.
Oblaka was both the name of the Order’s House, which straggled
across the high clifftops, and the name of the small town
sheltering behind those cliffs. He and Voron rode into the town
just after midday.

For the first time in
six days, they had ridden past small fields, some already showing
the green stitches of sprouting plants. The fields were bounded by
sturdy hedges to keep the northern winds from blasting tender new
shoots. They saw children tending small flocks of sheep and goats
while their parents repaired damage to roofs and fences caused by
winter storms.

Nearing the town, they
found chickens scratching alongside the trail until the trail
became a stone paved roadway at the town’s edge. Oxen swayed past,
heading out to the fields, and donkeys tip tapped inwards with
bundles of firewood strapped to their backs. The people in this
town were markedly different from those Ren and Voron had seen in
Valoon. Women shook rugs and blankets from their doorways or upper
windows, and smiled if they caught the eye of either of the
travellers. Men passing in the street nodded and murmured a
greeting.

‘Why so different from
Valoon?’ Voron asked in puzzlement.

‘Because of the Order’s
presence here, I would think,’ Ren replied.

They reached a square
open area in the centre of the town and Ren led them down one of
several side streets. They soon found themselves beyond the last
houses, winding up a switchback route towards the clifftop.
Climbing the final gradient, they saw a low, one storey building
ahead with many further buildings apparently tacked on as had
become necessary.

Three white robed
Observers walked across the front of the first building as Ren and
Voron reached the summit. A narrow door in the centre of the
building opened and Babach strode towards them, his hands
outstretched in welcome.

‘I am most relieved to
see you both,’ he exclaimed while they dismounted. ‘Let us take the
horses to the stables and then you can have a meal.’ His braided
beard twisted in the strengthening wind off the sea as he showed
them the way.

The Oblaka was an
unusual place: buildings seemed to be joined to each other, then
passages and gaps suddenly appeared between them, completely
separating different blocks of the structure. Babach swerved down
one of these narrow ways, turned right, then left, and they were in
a stableyard. A half grown girl came running when Babach raised a
hand.

‘Care for these as well
as I know you can.’ Babach smiled at her.

She returned his smile
and, after Ren and Voron had removed their packs from the horses,
she led the animals off across the yard.

Babach plunged them
once more into the labyrinth of open passages and covered ways,
eventually opening a door to reveal a general dining hall. Voron
and Ren sat at a table close to a window while Babach vanished into
what they hoped were the kitchens. While they awaited his return,
they looked out of the window.

‘I could have sworn we
were at the back of the house,’ Voron said in surprise, staring at
the vast expanse of sea.

‘So could I,’ Ren
agreed. ‘I wonder if they give maps to visitors?’

Babach reappeared and
sat between them.

‘A meal will be here in
a moment,’ he said. ‘Keep that shield around you a little longer
Ren. There are unwelcome eyes and ears here, I have
discovered.’

Ren’s stomach lurched
at the reminder of just why he and Voron were here.

‘We think someone tried
to reach us the night before last,’ he told Babach.

The old man nodded.
‘When you have eaten, I will take you to one of the more distant
cottages. An old friend – I think I may have mentioned her to you
Ren – has offered to accommodate you two as well.’

A man came through from
the kitchens wearing an enormous apron and bearing a loaded tray.
Babach watched Ren and Voron reach eagerly for the food.

‘Would either of you
happen to be able to cook?’ he asked.

Ren waved his fork at
Voron. ‘He is really quite good. Anything I try is a total
disaster.’

‘Aah,’ Babach smiled
benignly on Voron. ‘You will be a great asset in our little cottage
then, as neither I nor Chakar can cook a single thing.’

Ren found he was not as
hungry as he had thought. He was nervously anticipating what Babach
might have to tell them. Babach patted his arm.

‘Do not go searching
for worries Ren, they will find you quite well in their own good
time.’

Ren did not find that a
very comforting remark but he did his best to switch his thoughts
to their surroundings.

‘I have never been here
before Babach. I have visited three others of our Houses, but to
the east and the south.’

Babach tugged his
beard. ‘I grew up in Oblaka. My mother was an Observer
here.’