Chapter 12
Shann had had just about as much as she could stand.
She had left the farmhouse near Lind with a clear mind and a strong purpose. They were going to free the tributes and break the power of the Prophet to oppress the Kelanni people. Now, an arrogant woman, a Keltar with a story that beggared belief, had dropped in out of the sky and somehow hijacked their mission. How could Lyall and Alondo simply go along with it? Could they not see what she was?
It had started from the moment they roused themselves to begin the night’s journey across the desert, away from the fortress of Gort and the tributes she had pledged herself to free. Keris had gathered them all together as if she were somehow now in charge. Shann felt dismay as she watched Lyall meekly fall into line. Someone had to put a stop to this.
Keris had unfurled a large scroll of paper on the sand. “I took this from Ferenek’s office. It is called a map,” she explained. Shann was intrigued, in spite of herself. It was like being a perridon, looking down on the ground from high up, only it showed far more than a perridon could ever see. There was Chalimar and Corte, Lind and the road south through the Southern Desert to Gort.
“All right, we are here.” Keris’ index finger pointed to a point north-east of the fortress. If we make reasonable time, we should pass beyond the edge of the desert in less than two days. Beyond the desert lie the Eastern Plains. There are few settlements. The Kelanni who live there are…different. They are mostly hunters, nomadic. And some of them are little more than rogues. If we should meet any, watch out for yourselves.” She looked at them one at a time, before returning her attention to the map.
“I believe our destination lies here.” She indicated a point on the south-eastern edge of the plains. There was a representation of a tower on the map, but there was no name next to it. “I calculate that we should be able to make the journey in about twenty days. We will need to exchange your morgren for graylesh. There is a trading post there, near the edge of the desert.”
“What about Boxx?” Alondo asked. “I don’t think it could ride one of those.”
“You have a point,” she acknowledged. “I suggest that we attempt to procure a wagon for supplies, and for Boxx to ride in.
“I did manage to acquire some other items at Gort that we might find useful in a pinch.” Keris got up, went to her saddle pack and returned with two boxes, one a lot smaller than the other. She opened the larger container first. Set in ten velour recesses were ten silver globes. Shann had glimpsed such a globe only once before, during Lyall’s battle with the Keltar in Corte, but she recognised them instantly–lodestone grenades. Keris handed five of them to Lyall and put the remaining five in her own pouch. “Use them only in an emergency,” she counselled. “I do not think it likely that we will be able to get replacements any time soon.”
Shann’s brow knotted. “What about me; don’t I get any?”
Keris’ expression was one of strained patience. “Have you ever used one of these, child?”
Shann felt her hackles rise. No-one had called her “child” since she was little. It was demeaning. Her eyes blazed at the older woman. She forced herself to answer. “No.”
“Then you are more likely to blow a hand or an arm off–or somebody else’s. Just…try and stay out of the way.”
Shann looked at Lyall for support, but his head was down, stowing the grenades in his pouch. She felt alone, isolated, powerless. She lapsed into a morose silence.
Keris selected the smaller receptacle and opened it. Within it were two Rings; bronze in colour, each set with a stone, the colour of midnight. “These are Speaking Rings,” she explained. “When you speak into them, they can reproduce your voice at great distances. However, they need to be Linked with each other, so that they resonate. One Ring can only be used to communicate with one other Ring to which it has been Linked. And the Link cannot be undone; it is permanent. I could only find the one pair, so we need to use them wisely.” She snapped the container shut and placed it in her pouch. Making sure that you keep control, Shann brooded.
Keris stood up and began making preparations to leave. Lyall and Alondo meekly followed her cue as if she was a queen and they were a part of her retinue. The two men packed away the awnings and then began coaxing the morgren forward. Boxx fell in behind the two beasts of burden. Keris addressed Lyall and Alondo directly, ignoring Shann as if she were beneath contempt.
“Follow the road east,” she commanded. “I will head back and check for signs of pursuit and then catch up with you.”
“Be safe.” Alondo called out.
Sure, don’t fall down any holes or anything.
Keris adjusted her cloak and trotted back the way they had come. In a few moments, she flared her cloak and leapt into the ferruginous twilight.
Shann waited until she was sure the Keltar had gone. Then she caught up to the other two. They were side by side leading the animals and engaged in quiet conversation. Whatever it was they were discussing, Shann didn’t care to know. There was an issue that was far more pressing.
“Lyall,” she interrupted him in mid-sentence. “What are we doing?”
He turned from Alondo to her. “Excuse me?”
“What are we doing?” She repeated.
“How do you mean?”
“That woman is a Keltar, and we are taking her orders.”
“We have to know if the Prophet’s men are tracking us, Shann.”
“That’s not what I mean. Ever since she arrived, you two do exactly what she says, and it’s like I don’t exist.”
Lyall brought his animal to a stop and turned to look at her directly. She saw the same clear blue eyes; the same unruly fair hair and felt oddly reassured. “Shann, I brought you into our group because I believed you were courageous and sincere. Since that time you have demonstrated integrity and resourcefulness far beyond anything I might have expected. I regard you as a full member and an equal partner in this enterprise, and I value your opinion. If you have something to say, then I would gladly hear it.”
Shann felt her confidence growing. “All right then. Why are we following the orders of a Keltar?”
“I am not following her orders. And she is not a Keltar; not anymore.”
“Yes she is. Keltar are the sworn servants of the Prophet. They don’t change.”
“I did,” Lyall observed.
“You were never actually a Keltar–you told me as much. Look at what has happened so far. We came to Gort to rescue the tributes and to cut off the Prophet’s supply of lodestones. Now we are headed in the opposite direction. She has already succeeded in diverting us from our purpose. She will destroy us the first chance she gets.”
“I don’t think so, Shann. If she had wanted to destroy us, she could have done so very easily by simply doing nothing. When Alondo and I entered the compound, we had no idea that a trap had been set for us. She saved our lives.”
He glanced at Alondo. Alondo looked down at his feet; then raised his eyes to meet Shann’s. He had become accustomed to siding with Shann against Lyall during their banter on the journey to Gort. It was a source of humour and it had helped to cement them together as a group. Now he looked most uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Shann, I have to agree with Lyall. We would be lying dead in that guardhouse if it wasn’t for her.”
“How do you know she isn’t manipulating you somehow?” Shann pressed on. “And what about that crazy story of hers about being spoken to by someone from the past? You’re not telling me you believe all of that.”
“I don’t know, Shann,” Lyall mused. “I think that if I had to make up a story to deceive someone, I could come up with a hundred better ones than that one. The fact that it is so fantastic makes it more believable, in a way. And there are other things. That machine, for example.
“I don’t know much about machines, but Alondo does. He’s a virtual genius when it comes to mechanics. If he says it is something unique, then I believe him. Finally, there’s the presence of the Chandara.”
“It might be lying.” Shann protested. “She could have influenced it somehow.”
Lyall looked at her askance. “Shann, I don’t think you really believe that.”
She felt as if the sands were shifting beneath her. “…All right, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean what it says is right, either.”
Lyall glanced over at Boxx. It was lying with its head resting on the sand, as if patiently waiting for the debate concerning it to end. “Chandara are odd creatures,” he began, “but I have never heard of one of them leaving their forest, let alone attaching themselves to a Kelanni. People say that they are primitive and dull-witted but I believe that they simply have thought patterns that are different than ours. One thing I am fairly convinced of ,though, after a single conversation with one of them, is that there is no way you could persuade it to lie for you, or even get it to do something it did not want to do.
There was a silence as Lyall’s words sunk in. Finally, it was broken by Lyall himself. “If the warning from the past is genuine, then we cannot ignore it. If it is some sort of deception, then that fact will become clear over time. I suggest that for the moment we should remain watchful. Are we all agreed?”
Alondo and Shann both nodded. Lyall put a hand on each of their shoulders, in silent symbol of unity. After a moment of reflection, he released them, and they resumed their journey in contemplative silence. Shann felt calmer. She felt as if she had the old Lyall back, the man she had come to trust. And the bond the three of them had forged together had been reaffirmed and strengthened. Yet despite all of Lyall’s good and fine arguments, there was still something about the Keltar she did not trust.
I will be watching you.
~
“As soon as we are judged to be safe, I would like to conduct hariath-sharana.”
Keris looked at Lyall in disbelief. “Who for?”
“For those that died at the compound.”
“You’re joking,” she accused.
“Not at all.”
Keris was tall, but the sandy haired man still had half a head on her. He was dressed in a light loose fitting desert coverall. Keris still wore her cloak, dark tunic and dark breeches, the garb of a Keltar.
She had alighted on the road surface behind the party and announced that there was no evidence of their being trailed. Even as she delivered the news, she sensed that there was a different air about the three of them. The young girl was still quiet, but her air of open hostility seemed to have dissipated. The musician with the odd hat seemed to have a twinkle in his eye and the tall man seemed to have grown in stature. But it was more than that. They seemed to share an unspoken unity which expressed itself in the form of half glances and surreptitious gestures, as if they were part of a cabal from which she was excluded.
They were an odd group, to be sure. The fair man seemed to have had some training as Keltar. That at least made him partially useful. However, the other two appeared to serve no purpose whatsoever, so why he had selected them as confederates was a genuine mystery. The girl had been a kitchen hand before she had embroiled herself in this business. She was probably quite handy with a bread knife, but Keris didn’t give much for her chances if the Prophet’s men caught up to them. She had managed to escape from the compound all on her own, in spite of the increased security, which suggested that she might be more resourceful than she looked. Keris hoped so.
As for the musician–well she could only hope that he would have the sense to run and hide when the time came.
An odd group indeed. A view that seemed only confirmed, when Lyall suddenly suggested the memorial gathering.
“Did you know any of the people in the guardhouse?” She enquired.
“No.”
“Then why–?”
“Because we are Kelanni, and those who died were Kelanni.” He paused. “We must not forget who and what we are. If we do, then the Prophet will have destroyed us without the need for a device.”
“Are you going to do this every time?”
“How do you mean?”
“Every time someone dies in this conflict. Are you going to conduct hariath-sharana for them all?”
“I do not intend for anyone else to die.”
Keris was flummoxed for a moment. The man seemed to have lost his grip on reality. “Look,” she began. “This is war. There are probably going to be a lot more deaths before we are finished.”
Lyall had a look of quiet determination. “I am not at war with my own people. There is only one person who is responsible for all of this. If we stop him, then the oppression will end.”
Keris laughed without mirth. “You’re really not very good at this, are you? Being a revolutionary.”
Lyall looked as if he were remembering an event long past. He gave a thin smile. “Perhaps not. But the greatest battle we have to fight is for hearts and minds, Keris. That is a battle we dare not lose.”
~
Lyall, Alondo and Shann stood with hands linked in a circle, while Keris watched from a distance. She could hear them speaking the memorial in low tones. Boxx stood next to her on its haunches. It seemed intensely interested in the strange ceremony.
It turned its round head to look up at her. “What Is The Purpose?”
Keris’ gaze was fixed on the three. “They are remembering those who died at the compound.”
“They Are Healing.”
“In a way…I suppose.”
“You Are Kelanni.” Keris did not turn or answer. Boxx persisted. “You Are Kelanni. Those Are Kelanni. Kelanni Should Join. Help One Another. It Is The Key.”
“You don’t understand,” she murmured, still looking straight ahead. “I can’t.”
“Why?” it asked.
Keris was feeling an unsettling mix of emotions: sadness, worry, guilt most of all. The last thing she felt like doing was having a conversation with the enigmatic creature. She could see out of the corner of her eye that it was looking at her expectantly.
Broken limbs…contorted faces…the stain of white blood. “I killed them,” she confessed. “The people they are mourning; I am responsible for their deaths.”
Boxx rocked itself from side to side, although she had no idea what that meant. Finally it spoke. “Keris Did This To Save Those?”
“I suppose so.” Her eyes were starting to water involuntarily. She wiped them with her palm, angry at her own weakness.
“Saving Those Has Injured You,” Boxx piped shrilly. “So… You Need To Heal Most Of All.”
Keris tried to push the thought away, but it welled up, forcing thorough the defensive barriers she had carefully constructed. The only person you can truly rely on is yourself. Suddenly, it was as if a dam had burst inside her. She felt herself walking forward. As she reached the others, Lyall and Alondo opened up to admit her and she joined the circle, taking each of their hands. Shann gave her an odd look, but said nothing.
As the four of them stood in silent meditation, a lone pink flower bloomed in the sandy soil nearby. It was a sentinel, announcing that they were nearing the end of the Southern Desert and approaching the Eastern Plains at long last, passing over from death to life.