The Reader

Chapter Nine - The Book

"They travelled to the King's palace in Esor and interviewed countless possibilities. Nobles from all over Ohadi, and even from across the Great Sea, came in the hopes of being selected for such an honour. But no-one seemed to have the qualities that the elders sought.

"Then, one day, an elder wished to go on a falcon hunt with the King. He went down to the stables to collect his horse and, legend has it, the second he saw the boy he knew he had found their leader.

"Nobody knows his real name, that much has been lost to history, but the elements gave him the title 'Reader' and bestowed upon him the ability to read the ancient language the Book was written in. They taught him how to use the Book, to control the different aspects of the elements. To do so he had to read a passage from the Book and, depending on what passage it was, different things would happen. One passage would conjure a firestorm, another a flame small enough for a match. Further into the Book one passage might part the sea, while another could remove water from damp clothes."

"Sounds powerful," Kallista said in an awed tone. Merric nodded.

"Well, the orders existed peacefully for another ten years and then three elders died suddenly, one from each order except the Firestarters. The Firestarters were blamed for the deaths, but it was never proven. The Reader intervened and tried to assuage the factions, but war broke out. Thousands of innocent, non-magical civilians were killed, including the reigning King of the time. The war raged for three years before the Reader finally had enough and, using the Book, he called upon the elements and smote every single Surfer, Air Rider, Earth Mover and Firestarter.

"Then he himself disappeared."

Kallista whistled lowly. "That's quite a story," she said.

Merric nodded, switching his reins to his left hand in order to drag the right across his brow. It came away slick with perspiration.

"It is. That's why the Book needed a fort to protect it."

Kallista said nothing and Merric didn't want to press the issue, so they rode in silence for the rest of the afternoon. The straggling caravan of men, wagons and horses rounded the base of the Savar Mountains and started winging northwards. As the sun set they finally came across vegetation, albeit brittle, dry bushes and grass tanned yellow by the sun.

A few hours after the sun went down Merric ordered the men to stop for the night. With much groaning they dismounted or clambered from the backs of the wagons, stretching sore muscles and shaking out their legs. Someone cleared a section of dirt and started a fire, gradually adding more and more of the sagebrush to build it up to a roaring inferno.

The sight of a warm fire, even in the arid half-desert, was welcoming. The men set up their bedrolls in scattered carelessness around it, though no-one was quite ready to sleep on the hard ground after a long day of travel. Instead they pulled out cards and dice and started to gamble. Berta produced a suckling pig somehow saved from Ogai's forces and, with the help of some of the soldiers, she constructed a makeshift spit to roast it on.

The smell of cooking meat soon filled the air, along with the cheerful banter of the men. Merric briefly left Kallista's side to make his rounds, talking with some of the officers and inspecting the picketed horses. He did this as quickly as possible, eager to return to her.

When he did get back he found her staring absently into the fire with her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin resting on her knees. A few men sat nearby, obviously on guard-duty, ignoring her. Merric sat down between them.

Kallista didn't acknowledge his presence. Watching her face Merric could see the firelight dancing in her eyes. It was almost like looking into her soul and seeing her power burning there, a feeling which made him feel like an intruder and forced him to look away. He focused on Dusk and Eagle, picketed nearby, instead and a thought came to him.

"Where are you from, Kallista?"

She started and looked at him, eyes wide like a startled deer. "Why do you ask?" she replied, voice hoarse from the dust.

Merric reached over to his saddle-bag, propped up beside his bedroll, and handed his waterskin to her. She drank gratefully.

"I just wondered how a woman like you ended up in a place like this," he said, using his hand to indicate the darkness around them.

"I told you, my mother tried to marry me off," she reminded him irritably.

"Yes but why did you come here, of all places?"

"Why are you here?" she countered.

Merric sighed. "I was assigned here, now answer my question."

She shut her mouth and flatly refused, which angered him slightly. He shuffled closer to her on the ground, noting the way she leaned warily away from the close contact.

"I told you why I'm here," he hissed in a low whisper so that her guards wouldn't hear. "Every time I ask you a personal question you counter it with one of your own. I answered yours, so it's only fair that you answer mine."

She rounded on him. Now fury blazed in her eyes, not the fire's reflection. "Why are you so nosey? What is my personal life to you? Why do you care?"

"Well fine!" he replied heatedly, a little more loudly than he intended. He stood up abruptly. Heads swiveled to watch the commotion. Merric couldn't think of anything else to add that wouldn't sound childish, so he stalked off, striding angrily through the maze of bedrolls and lounging men to the very edge of the camp.

There he found a deserted spot in the shadow of sagebrush and, after checking it for snakes or anything else harmful, he sat down in its clutches and bit his knuckles until they bled.