Master of furies, p.22
Master of Furies, page 22
Bodai’s eyes widened and he looked from Hatu to Nathan. Eventually he whispered, ‘How?’
‘I caused a rockslide that drove off the men chasing Declan. His men looked as if they’d been through a lot—’
‘You caused a rockslide?’ interrupted Bodai.
Hatu nodded and finished off the water.
Bodai looked at Nathan with a questioning expression.
Nathan answered with raised eyebrows and a shrug.
Bodai said, ‘Hatu, are you even remotely aware of what you’ve done?’
‘I just told you,’ Hatu replied.
Bodai again looked at Nathan who shrugged once more. Bodai muttered, ‘He’s still so young.’
Nathan studied Hatushaly for a moment, and said, ‘You do things no other man on this planet can do. You’re the only man who can do any magic here. No woman comes close to your power.’
Hatu weighed what Nathan had said, then smiled and asked, ‘What do we do next?’
Nathan said, ‘I have no idea.’
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN •
Reunions, Speculations, and Adjustments
Declan lay motionless as did the line of men behind him. They had been following a dry riverbed for a day and had seen no sign of others. Now they heard riders in the distance. Declan hoped they had managed to get out of sight in time below the tall dry grass that lined the bank. He knew from the fight outside Abala that if his company were fit and well, a band of riders would be difficult to deal with but could be beaten. With his company in their current condition, they stood no hope of survival.
They remained still, the sun beating down upon them mercilessly: there was scant shade. When they had crawled out of the northernmost canyon of the Wound, they had emerged near the border between the Burning Lands and the Range of the Border Tribes. Declan had no idea how long it would take to reach Abala or one of the villages just north of that port.
Still, they had found a well two days earlier, most likely dug by a band of nomads. Tobias and the others who’d served as guards on caravans crossing the grasslands said there were ponds and even a few small lakes to the north, but this far south one had to look for wells. Tobias also pointed out that they risked death by drinking out of any well without permission of the nomads who had dug it.
Declan was of the opinion they were dead even if they were spotted by any tribe out here. The attack on Abala indicated that whatever understanding might have existed between the nomads and those living along the coast had clearly come to an end.
Declan waited a few minutes more and heard no sound besides the breeze and some buzzing insects, so he crawled up the bank and hazarded a look over the top. No one was in sight, and he looked at the men behind him. With a nod, he stood up and the others followed.
‘I think we need to pay more attention to dust,’ he said, realizing as he spoke that he was having a little trouble thinking clearly. He glanced skywards and judged it was still three hours or more before sundown. And they were marching westwards, facing the blinding heat with every step.
He knew they needed to find shade and water soon, though a place to rest for a day would be even better.
Sebastian pointed westwards and said, ‘Look.’
Declan turned. ‘What? I see nothing.’
‘Birds,’ said the archer. ‘Not vultures.’
‘That means water,’ said Sixto.
‘And maybe something to eat,’ added Tobias.
‘Stay on the verge of the grass, and keep alert,’ said Declan, fighting off his lightheadedness.
Sixto noticed him struggling and thrust his water skin at Declan. ‘Here, you need it.’ When Declan started to speak, Sixto cut him off. ‘You need it! I’m not going to carry you, damn it.’
Declan took it and lifted the skin. It was half-full and he took a long pull. The water still tasted of minerals, with a bitter tang, but he welcomed it, even if it was tepid.
He handed back the skin and took a moment, then turned and waved the men onwards.
Soon Declan could also see specks circling above the distant horizon, and he marvelled at how much better Sebastian’s eyes were. As the sun began to lower, they saw what appeared to be trees dotting the landscape below.
‘I hope that’s an oasis,’ said Sixto.
‘I wish I could see what the hell you’re talking about,’ said Tobias, ‘but I hope you’re right.’
Less than an hour later they half-walked, half-staggered to the rim of what had been a gradual rise, and below saw a large pool, surrounded by trees and bushes.
Without Declan saying anything, the men broke from the line and hurried down a slope to the edge of the pool. Sixto took a quick look around, and said, ‘It’s clear!’
Quickly all the men were lying on the bank, drinking and splashing water on their faces and necks, some draping their arms in up to the elbows.
‘It’s big enough to bathe in,’ said Toombs.
‘Not until after I drink,’ complained Oscar. ‘You’re filthy.’
The water was fresh and cool, having been shaded from the sun for most of the day. Declan found himself reviving and sat up.
‘Where does the water come from?’ asked Mick Sawyer. His dark skin shone with reflected light, water dripping off, as he stuck his entire face into the pool to drink.
Declan took a deep breath as his head cleared and he sat back on his haunches. ‘There,’ he said, pointing. ‘It comes from there.’
As the sun touched the topmost peak, the range of mountains above them was clearly revealed. They were not tall mountains, large hills mostly: he’d passed through taller ranges trailing from Beran’s Hill to the Copper Hills, but that had been along well-cared-for roads. According to the South Tembria fighters, there was no safe passage over them. The Border Tribes used a short passage splitting off from a well-travelled route just to the north of the dry riverbed they’d followed.
Declan had debated with himself whether to risk the southernmost pass, the one most often used by the tribes when trading in Abala, or to push past to the foothills and mountains to the north. He had come to the conclusion that the men did not have the strength to force-march through open country to the hills to the north then find another passage through the mountains and loop back to Abala.
So far, they’d not encountered riders from the tribes, though once they had hidden after seeing a cloud of dust rising to the north. Declan assumed it was a company of horsemen moving parallel to them and decided it was time to come to a decision. His contemplation of the problem was interrupted by a voice.
‘Dates!’ shouted Acke, and he got to his feet and ran to a tree. ‘Give me a boost,’ he shouted, and Mikola and Jack Sawyer both hurried over to get him started shimmying up the tree.
Within a few minutes everyone was eating dates, and Declan leaned back against a bole as he savoured the sweet fruit. He felt relief in the fact that so far he had managed to get every man out of the Wound. He also realized he had been in a far worse state than he’d admitted and only Sixto’s insistence that he drink earlier in the day had kept him from succumbing to the heat. ‘I think we should rest here,’ he said.
Sixto came over. ‘No one may have visited here for a while, but that doesn’t mean we are the only men on Garn to know about this place.’
Declan nodded. ‘If you’re up to it, take a walk around the perimeter and see how we are fixed?’
‘I’ll also see if we have a nearby place to hide if someone turns up unexpectedly. You rest.’
Declan decided he wasn’t about to argue. He’d never felt so beaten up and exhausted in his life. Even when he’d been recovering from his wounds after the sacking of Beran’s Hill. He closed his eyes and within seconds was asleep.
HATUSHALY AND BODAI SAT IN the library, Hatu reading bits of books in strange languages, and Bodai writing down notes. ‘This is animal husbandry,’ said Hatu.
‘That will be …’ He checked a list, and said, ‘Number four hundred and sixteen.’
Hatu stood up and carried the book to a large pile on the other side of a massive, now half-empty, bookcase. A pot of ink and a quill rested next to the pile. Hatu ripped off a small piece of paper, wrote the number, waving the paper about until the ink dried, then put the paper inside the cover of the book.
‘That’s about thirty books on farming and herding,’ he said to Bodai as he walked back. He stopped suddenly, cocking his head as if listening for something.
‘What?’ asked Bodai.
‘Hava … should be here tomorrow.’ He smiled broadly.
Bodai was about to say something, when Nathan appeared from behind the same bookcase Hatu had just left.
Bodai said, ‘You just vanished!’
‘I had to talk to someone’ was all Nathan said as he pushed back a chair and sat opposite Bodai.
Suddenly, Hatu looked around, then at Nathan, and asked, ‘How did you get there?’ He pointed to the bookshelf.
‘And how did you leave?’ asked Bodai. ‘You were gone, but no ship left port … for days!’
Nathan waved the question away. ‘I know a few tricks.’
‘Where have you been?’ Hatu asked.
‘Trying to get some answers,’ Nathan replied.
As Bodai was about to speak, Nathan cut him off. ‘You’, he said, pointing his finger at Hatushaly, ‘are a problem.’
Hatu sat down.
‘You have abilities I have no idea how to help you control. Have you tried any more of your powers since I left?’
‘No,’ said Hatu. ‘After your reaction to me helping Declan and sensing Hava while I was asleep …’ He put his hands out as if in surrender. ‘I was afraid to try anything.’
‘You’re smarter than you look,’ said Nathan.
‘So, what did you learn?’ asked Bodai.
‘A few things,’ replied Nathan, ‘but I’ll leave that for later.’ He paused for a moment, then said, ‘First you must understand the difference between knowledge and speculation.’
‘To what end?’ asked Bodai.
‘So Hatu doesn’t end up as an agent of destruction.’
Bodai and Hatu exchanged glances, and Bodai said, ‘I think we all agree on that.’
‘I cannot teach Hatu what I don’t know,’ began Nathan. ‘It’s hard to guide him in discovering things I know nothing about.’
They were all silent for a few moments, then Nathan stood up and turned to face them. ‘I can listen to what you hear, see what you see, discuss what you experience, but at this point I have nothing I can teach you.
‘Consider me as a pool of information, but it may not be the information you need. I can provide a context of sorts for what you’re experiencing, but as long as you remain here, you will have to advance your knowledge by risking yourself and others.’
‘Remain here?’ said Hatu. ‘Where else would I go?’
‘That’, said Nathan, ‘is a very good question. It’s one I will answer, but not now. You are here for a reason, one that I probably do not fully understand, but for the time being, you will remain here. Once we discover why all this’ – he spread his arms expansively, indicating all that had happened to Hatu so far – ‘has happened, then we can more fully understand what is needed. So, will you let me help you?’
Hatu was now slightly annoyed. ‘I never wanted you to leave in the first place!’
Nathan looked at Bodai.
Bodai said, ‘What I think is a moot point.’
Nathan nodded. ‘Context. At this stage the best I can do to help you is to have you understand the context of your place in the larger scheme of things.’
Hatu and Bodai both settled back in their chairs.
‘Let’s start with this,’ Nathan said. ‘You understand, to a point, that what exists between positive and negative furies is energy.’
Hatu nodded.
‘And that energy comes in different forms: heat, light, movement …’ He paused as if to catch his breath. ‘And everything felt from the drop of rain on your arm to a massive earthquake is an expression of energy, right?’
Hatu again nodded.
‘Forget for a moment the expression of energy as light, noise, vibrations, or anything else, and imagine energy as a thing unto itself. Energy is like water. It wants to run downhill.’
Hatu said, ‘Water?’
‘Positive energy is like being on top of a hill. Negative is like being at the bottom. Go see what I mean.’
Hatu closed his eyes and instantly was floating in his mind-void. He saw endless strings of energy and picked one at random. Focusing his vision, he studied the pulsing. The rhythm was uniform, like a heartbeat, and when he pushed that perception aside, he saw that the pulse was heading in one direction, from the positive fury to the negative.
He opened his eyes and said, ‘I see what you mean, but then how does it not … fade when all of it is has passed into negative fury?’
‘That’s a mystery, but it doesn’t. Somehow, the furies always stay in balance despite momentary imbalances. Certain facts are indisputable, and this is one. Energy is everlasting. It changes, but it never ends.’
Bodai asked, ‘It’s eternal?’
‘As far as we can tell,’ answered Nathan. ‘Set fire to a piece of wood. Is the wood destroyed?’
‘Of course,’ answered Hatu.
‘No, it’s not,’ Nathan replied. ‘It transforms into heat, light, and ash. Changes occur and we may not fully understand them, but in the end the wood is not destroyed, but transformed. Energy is constant, and eternal. Once you accept that, your understanding will begin.
‘Hot descends to cold, fast to still, disorganized to ordered, it’s all part of a system that … works.’ Nathan tried to find the right words. ‘So much of what we know is … incomplete.’ Then he shook his head and said, ‘No. Most of what we know is incomplete.’ He spread his hands in a gesture implying vastness. ‘Why do we get hot when the sun’s light falls on us? We know it has to do with the nature of energy, but why?
‘When we drop something it falls, but why? We say “gravity”, but what is gravity? How does it work? We know the moon tugs at the tide, but why? Gravity from that far away or something else?’ He pointed at Hatu. ‘We know you’re becoming a master of … furies! But we don’t know why. And especially we don’t know how.’
Hatu and Bodai exchanged glances, but both remained silent.
At last Nathan said, ‘And I have to piece together what I can in order to prevent you from setting fire to another ship, or starting another landslide by accident.’
The three sat in silence for a long while.
DONTE WATCHED AS THE BARON’S engineers laid out long lines of heavy twine from sticks a few feet away to another tall stick a hundred yards away. He had ridden up on the wagon filled with the engineers’ equipment and was finding how they were planning the outline for the new garrison fascinating.
Beran’s Hill was a burned-out shell of a town. Scouts reported that a few surrounding farms were again being worked and the nearby groves were tended, but the town itself had been abandoned. Streets were identifiable only by the burned sections of blackened walls and foundations here and there. Not one building stood completely intact, though a large warehouse where the final defence of the town had been fought was still standing, lacking one wall, with a roof that was half burned away.
The captain in charge, Baldasar, was planning on using the building as his temporary headquarters, so while the engineers laid out the lines for the garrison’s foundations, he had workers shoring up supports and repairing the roof of the abandoned warehouse.
Donte had been given explicit instructions by the baron before he departed. His official role had been left vague, except that he was not part of the work gang, but a runner taking orders only from the captain.
That designation seemed to be especially annoying to one soldier, Jackson Deakin, with whom Donte had unfinished business. A bully who had once tried to kill Donte, Deakin was a good enough fighter that he’d been kept in Daylon’s service, though he had probably been tossed in the dungeon more times than any man in the army.
He was currently with a detail checking anyone coming into this part of the barony from the east. A few refugees were arriving but a large portion of those roaming that part of the border with the Wildlands were bandits and scavengers. When Donte was confident that no Azhante agents had already arrived in Beran’s Hill, he would be moved to that detail and inspect wagons alongside the soldiers. At least Donte’s status with the baron would stop Deakin, if he was still there, from attacking Donte. That, as well as a tough sergeant named Collin, formerly the master-at-arms for the Baron of the Copper Hills. He was a bear of a man, and from the Kes’tun, a mountain people who brooked insult from no one. He’d come south after Copper Hills fell and Baron Rodrigo’s situation remained unknown and had eagerly taken service with Baron Dumarch.
Donte hoped Deakin hadn’t run afoul of Collin, angered the former master-at-arms, and got himself killed already. Donte wanted to experience that pleasure himself.
After a while he grew bored of watching twine being laid out and chalk spilled to indicate where the foundation trenches would be dug. He’d had enough mason work on the walls down in Marquenet to last a lifetime and besides, he was supposed to be looking for suspicious characters.
Donte thought about taking another wander through the town, though he knew it was unlikely he’d find anything worth reporting – the checkpoints inspected those slowly returning to the town. But he knew Captain Baldasar had no particular use for him unless he found something. There was no surviving inn, so there wasn’t even a place he could have a drink or pick a fight.
At last he decided that he’d done all he could, and went to find the captain. He wandered back towards the makeshift headquarters and realized that other than a few locals who had recently returned to find everything they owned gone, all the others were Baron Dumarch’s men.
As he approached, he saw a pair of wagons moving towards the headquarters. The lead wagon was driven by a slender, dark-haired fellow, the sort who was all sinew and muscle. The second wagon was driven by a slim, sun-browned woman with grey-shot brown hair. As Donte came close the driver shouted, ‘Where’s the captain?’
