Master of furies, p.18
Master of Furies, page 18
He was on the edge of recognizing the next hierarchy when Nathan’s voice came to him. ‘These are major movements caused by tremendous conflict between furies. This is towards the end of what you need to know for your challenges.’
‘Challenges?’ asked Hatushaly, and abruptly he was back at the table in the library, blinking.
‘That wasn’t supposed to happen,’ said Nathan.
‘What?’ asked Bodai, looking first at Nathan, then at Hatu.
‘He startled me!’ said Hatu, rubbing his left eye with the palm of his hand. ‘Now I’ve got an ache in my left eye. What was that?’
‘I was trying to evaluate your … lesson?’
‘By barging into my mind unannounced?’
Nathan looked abashed. ‘Sorry. I thought your concentration was more disciplined than it apparently is.’
‘Maybe if you’d told me first you could do that, and then warned me you were going to,’ said Hatu, with a hint of anger. ‘Damn, that eye really hurts.’
‘It’ll pass in a bit,’ said Nathan. ‘It’s like a brain freeze.’
‘A what?’ said Bodai.
‘When you bite into something really cold and it shoots a pain up into your brain?’
‘Why would anyone do that?’ asked Bodai, his expression one of disbelief.
Nathan let out a sigh. ‘It’s just an expression. Your brain doesn’t really freeze. It just hurts.’
‘That still doesn’t answer why would you do that?’
‘Never mind. You don’t have a lot of very cold things to eat or drink around here, anyway.’
‘Apparently not,’ agreed Bodai.
‘Tell me what you were seeing, Hatu,’ said Nathan.
‘Give me another minute,’ said Hatu, still obviously upset.
Nathan sat back in his chair. ‘Whenever you’re ready.’
Hatu blinked his left eye a few times, then said, ‘What I saw was what I told you last time. It starts the same way. Just a … what was that word?’
‘Roiling?’
‘Yes, that. A swirling, colours that aren’t real colours, but seem like colours. Behind the colours I sensed blackness, absolute blackness, like in a cave at night. Then the colours … settle down, start to move into lines and grow brighter. The blackness, or sense of it, fades until nothing remains but countless lines of colour.’
Nathan and Bodai had their eyes fixed on Hatu as he spoke. This was their fifth time listening to his attempt to examine the forces created by the furies surrounding them. Each time he’d grown a bit more adept and able to decipher the order of those energies. There seemed to be a pattern and Nathan had been sparse in his instruction, claiming that he was unsure what Hatu would encounter with this exercise. There was a sense of progress, despite the ultimate goal being vague.
‘Then?’ prodded Nathan.
Hatu shot him an angry look, but he kept his tone calm. ‘The chaos of swirling colours and the blackness resolved much faster this time; that part is getting easy.’ He waved his hand. ‘As I’ve said, when I’m in that frame of mind, I have no sense of time passing. Yet it feels as if it’s going faster.’ He shrugged and the last of the anger seemed to leave him. ‘Maybe I’m just used to it, so it seems that way.’
‘About the same time passed as the last time,’ said Bodai, ‘so if you feel you’ve got farther along in this exercise, then you are going faster.’ His tone hinted at this being a question as much as a statement.
‘Indeed,’ offered Nathan. ‘Go on.’
‘This time I sensed that the lines I perceived were countless ties between furies, energy moving …’ He looked at Nathan questioningly.
‘As fast as light,’ supplied Nathan.
‘Yes, like beams of light, but as slender as threads.’
‘Go on,’ said Nathan.
‘They stretched out in every direction, but then … it’s not as if I moved them, but rather they moved themselves as I needed …’ He blew out a long breath, as if releasing tension, and shook his head in wonder. ‘I didn’t feel as if I was controlling them, like you control a team of horses, or steal a boat.’ He collected his thoughts, then added, ‘It’s as if they just did what I wanted them to do.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Bodai.
Nathan nodded. ‘It’s a beginning. What else?’
‘I saw … ordinary? Common flows along countless lines, then they faded …’ He stopped. ‘I was beginning to sense … the origins, or endings?’ He looked as if he was struggling to frame his words. ‘I think I was starting to understand what the pair of … furies … what they were. I think I’m beginning to see that they are endless, and only some are … important? No.’ He shook his head. ‘Important to me.’ Suddenly he sat upright and his eyes widened.
‘What?’ asked Bodai.
‘People, animals … insects! Fish in the sea. Every living thing is connected through the furies!’
‘Good,’ said Nathan. ‘Your apprehension of furies and energies, the very fabric and movement of the universe, is starting to come into focus for you.’ He slowly looked from Nathan to Bodai. ‘I’ve met only a handful of people who have that ability. Some have grown to be adepts, perhaps even masters of that knowledge. Some have learned how to manipulate the very stuff of the universe.’ He slapped his hand on the table. ‘What you call “magic”!’
‘What next?’ asked Hatu, all his anger having fled.
Looking around, Nathan said, ‘I’m hungry and it’s late. I think I spied a barrel of wine in the mess.’
Suddenly Hatu was ravenous. ‘Have we finished?’
‘For today. More tomorrow,’ said Nathan.
Rising from the table, Hatu waved a warning finger at him. ‘If you have some trick like popping into my head again, warn me first. I don’t like tricks!’
Nathan laughed and said, ‘You’re learning. They’re all tricks.’
BALVEN STOOD ON THE BEACH. A soldier behind him carried a small wooden chest. A wagon driver on the top of the hill turned his rig slowly to begin his return to the city.
The longboat pulled ashore and the crew made way for the soldier who loaded the trunk, then Balven waded out a little and awkwardly clambered over the gunwale and settled in the bow. The boat was quickly pushed back into the surf.
In a few short minutes the baron’s brother climbed the rope ladder to the deck of the Queen of Storms. Hava stood there and when he was standing on the deck, said, ‘Welcome aboard.’
‘Thank you.’
A rope was lowered and within a minute the wooden chest sat on the deck.
‘Follow me,’ Hava instructed Balven, and he followed her to a doorway leading to three steps down to a short hall with three doors. She opened the centremost and waved him in.
Inside was a tidy cabin with a bed under a shelf below the stern windows, with just enough room for a chest of drawers and a map desk, illuminated by a single lantern hanging above the desk. There were candle sconces on either side of the door and Hava said, ‘At dusk one of the lads will bring in a taper from the galley to get the candles going. We keep a close eye on anything afire once we set out. If one goes out, don’t try to light it yourself.’
‘I’ll leave it to whoever you send,’ he replied. ‘Marquensas has never been a seafaring nation, so this is my third voyage in my lifetime, and the longest by far. I sailed from Ilcomen to Zindaros, a day and a bit, and back.’
‘Well, settle in. You’re here for a good deal longer. This is my cabin, so you’ll have to live out of your trunk, as the drawers are full of my rags.’
‘Where will you sleep?’
‘I’ll share my mate’s bunk.’
Balven’s eyebrows rose at that.
Hava laughed. ‘I sleep while he commands the deck, and he sleeps when I do. Nothing else, though if something was going on with me and Sabien, I doubt Hatu would notice.’
Her last remark was half humorous and half not. Balven’s look was a questioning one, and Hava waved her hand. ‘It’s just he’s so caught up in his studies with Bodai, I only see him at night when I’m there.’
‘Oh,’ said Balven.
‘Once we get underway, we’ll set up the mess and you can eat here or on the deck.’
‘I’ll eat where you do,’ he said.
‘Fair enough.’
She closed the door and left Balven sitting on the bunk, looking unsettled and a little confused.
DECLAN AND SEBASTIAN CREPT THROUGH the woods, trying to remain as silent as possible. First light in the Wound came long after sunrise above, as the steep canyon walls and thick tree canopy cut the light drastically. They were about a mile or so south of where the two game trails intersected, the boundary between the mercenaries’ camp and ‘no man’s land’.
Declan tapped Sebastian on the shoulder and whispered, ‘We have to take the trail from here, I think.’
As Sebastian was the more experienced hunter, he was in the lead, and over his shoulder he replied, ‘A little longer, I think, but yes, soon. You move quietly, but even so this brush ahead is thicker than behind us.’
Declan said, ‘No words. Just turn and point where you want to go. I’ll follow you.’
Sebastian nodded, then turned and slowly took the lead. A few minutes later he stopped and pointed to a clearer area on the same side of the trail. Declan followed him.
They had left as soon as it was possible to move in the dim light of morning. Declan had put Sixto in charge of organizing the rope-weaving. Benruf had been correct that the strands of lianas were as tough as strong cord and with the thick ones at the centre, only a few of the thin ones needed to be braided around them. They had discussed the way to organize the trek, and how much rope would be required. Declan allowed a little debate, but eventually just decided on what they would do. Long ropes would be burdensome, so shorter sections would be linked with interlocking loops, threaded one through the next, and after use, taken apart.
Declan knew he could trust Sixto to keep the men busy and had instructed the closest thing he had to a friend in this company what his idea was and how he should manage the attempt to escape from the Wound.
Declan was determined to escape as well: but if he was to die before avenging Gwen, Jusan, and Millie, at least he’d give his companions the chance to join Baron Dumarch in hunting down the murdering bastards.
Out of the woods, on the edge of the trail, Declan felt exposed. Sebastian turned and gestured to him that if he heard anything to dodge back into the trees as deep as he could. Declan nodded that he understood.
They crept along the verge of the trail for an hour, and Declan tried to keep the passage of time straight, so that he’d know when to turn back and reach the boundary before dark. He also had to take into account that they were descending deeper into the Wound, so the return trip would be uphill, and thus slower.
The canyon continued to widen rapidly, so they encountered a few clearings that to Declan appeared to have been harvested for timber but were now starting to regrow. He knew nothing about timber harvesting, save the bit here and there he had seen when delivering axes to lumber camps north of Oncon, and a few chats he’d had with those who harvested trees. For the most part he’d wanted to know why blades and saws needed to be fashioned in a certain way, and why steel wedges were needed to fell tall trees in a chosen direction.
Still, these areas looked as though they had been cleared many years before. The newer trees were still tall and had boles as big as two or three feet in diameter, and the big stumps were surrounded by undergrowth that would take years to sprout new trees.
A faint noise from ahead stopped Sebastian, and he held up a hand. The noise did not grow louder, so Declan assumed it wasn’t a moving party getting close. Then it stopped.
Sebastian waited for a minute after quiet returned, then motioned for Declan to follow.
A few minutes later the sound resumed, and this time it was clearly that of voices, a loud chant or song. Again, it did not grow louder, and after a moment they continued.
They reached a large clearing, something of a choke point for those moving upwards in the Wound, as the trail cut through the middle and the woods retreated on both sides. Sebastian turned and pantomimed a question: down the middle or to one side or the other? Declan paused and took stock of the terrain. Like the previous clearing, this had been harvested years before and there was some covering closer to the trail than the edges. He pointed to a small copse of younger trees, then made a motion of hunching over and scurrying from place to place. Sebastian nodded once and set off as quickly as he could to the first stand of trees.
By moving from one hiding spot to another, they reached the far side of the clearing and saw a gap between trees to the south. The odd chanting sound had again ceased, and Declan touched Sebastian on the shoulder and pointed. They set off to the south edge of the big clearing.
The woods close to the trail on both sides lasted for a hundred yards or so, then another massive clearing appeared. Both men stopped as they saw another hundred yards ahead a high wall, fashioned from the boles of big trees, the sort of defence construction that would have taken months to build. The timbers were covered in thick creepers, creating a massive green barrier.
There was a huge gate, open and showing signs of neglect, and around it were skulls, bones, and other items, clustered in such a way that Declan couldn’t decide if they were trophies or some sort of warning. When they were within twenty yards of it, they crouched behind a small copse of trees and bushes to the east of the gate.
‘Look,’ said Sebastian softly.
It took Declan a moment to understand what Sebastian was indicating, and then it struck him. Some of the skulls were not animal, but also human. And some of those that were animal appeared to be from beasts he had never seen before.
There was something like a crocodile skull from a distant swamp he’d seen hung over a tavern bar, but it was easily twice as large. Other skulls were almost familiar, but some were alien beyond his ability to identify them.
‘What is that?’ whispered Declan, pointing to something that looked roughly ape-like, but three times the size of a normal human skull, with long, almost knife-like canine teeth, and a band of pointed bone above the eye-ridges.
‘I don’t know,’ replied Sebastian, ‘and I hope to never find out. If that beast’s skull is that size, it must stand …’
‘Ten or twelve feet tall,’ finished Declan.
‘Do we turn back?’ whispered Sebastian, and Declan could tell which answer he would prefer.
‘I’m not going through a gate that can be closed behind us,’ Declan whispered, ‘but I would like to know a little bit more.’
He weighed curiosity against risk and was about to suggest they return when a sudden shout went up from some distance beyond the wall. Many voices sounded a low, growling sound that rose slowly to a shout. Then silence. A moment later the low chanting growl was repeated and again rose to a shout.
‘Let’s leave,’ said Sebastian.
‘My thought exactly,’ said Declan, who turned and moved a short way farther from the gate and then took to the trail at a jog, Sebastian a few feet behind him.
As Declan had anticipated, the return journey took longer. Still, he felt that no eaters between their camp and the mercenaries’ camp was a good sign. It meant that a journey to the escarpment should be relatively straightforward. Not fighting for their lives while trying to master the rocks that led to the foothills above the Wound was preferable.
He’d said nothing to anyone, not even Sixto, but not one man in camp was truly fit. His own men were still hurting from their time in the desert. Rest and meagre food had helped, and at least there was abundant water from artesian springs nearby. The younger fighters were probably in roughly the same condition as Declan’s men, but the older men like Oscar and Tobias? Declan knew that if trouble came, they’d give as good an account as possible, but doubted they’d survive any sort of stand-up fight.
Declan was also concerned that once out of the Wound, finding themselves on the wrong side of the low mountains separating them from the coast might be an insurmountable obstacle. Still, he’d rather die trying than any other choice available.
Near sundown they reached the mercenary camp and were greeted with clear expressions of relief. The stewpot was once again bubbling and Declan was so hungry that he didn’t care if it was fresh, or yesterday’s leftovers reheated.
Sixto handed him a platter. ‘What did you find?’ he asked quietly.
‘I found we owe Tobias and the others our lives. I never caught sight of a single eater, but what they’ve hung on the gateway to their territory tells me we would have all ended up hanging there, or parts of us at least.’
Sebastian sat close enough to hear, and added, ‘And whatever they hunt on the other side of the camp, I’ll be pleased to never see their like in this lifetime.’
At that point the camp fell quiet and Declan realized all eyes were turned towards him. He took a deep breath and asked, ‘Ropes?’
Tobias said, ‘We finished what you asked for and even a bit more an hour ago.’
‘Good,’ replied Declan. ‘Eat as much as you can, and in the morning we’ll finish off what’s left. As soon as it’s light enough that we can move without breaking legs, we start. We take whatever food we can carry and every water bag, the weapons and ropes. Leave everything else behind.’
He glanced at all his own company, and said, ‘These men came down here the way we’re going, so they know what I’m about to say. The escarpment will drain your legs. It’s a gradual slope until the cliff, but it’s still uphill all the way. It’s certain we’ll need to rest before we climb, and none of us were mountain fighters I suspect, so it’s going to be slow going.’
He sat down and continued to eat and heard Oscar mutter, ‘If we manage to survive this madness and get to a civilized land, I swear I’ll never eat another stew for the rest of my life.’
Declan found himself chuckling at that.
• CHAPTER ELEVEN •
An Escape and a Meeting of Minds
