Oracle of Delphi

by James Gurley

  Tad smiled. “Okay, Lousa.”

  He was beginning to think that the trip might be more pleasant than he had imagined. Then he saw Ket standing at the corner of a building watching them intently. Ket frowned and made a sharp hand motion to Lousa. She saw him and froze, all emotion draining from her face.

  “I must go,” she whispered and ran toward her father. Her slim body danced across the courtyard, her feet barely touching the ground. She stopped beside her father, head bowed as he admonished her quietly. He jerked his hand forward and she proceeded to her room. He looked back at Tad and let his eyes linger on him with a warning look for just a moment before following her.

  Tad wondered how well he and the two Saddir males would fare on the long journey. He did not believe that Ket would take him into his confidence concerning his research. Tad was an unknown factor, someone Father Alistair had thrown willy-nilly into the mix. He doubted that Ket would have chosen him as a traveling companion otherwise. Ket’s resentment at his lack of choice in the matter was abundantly evident in his every word and gesture. Tad detected the same air of superiority toward Brother Alistair. He harbored no such doubts about Lousa. She was open and caring, and, though at least a year younger than Tad, she was self-assured and better educated, more sophisticated and totally dedicated to her father’s work. He was looking forward to spending time alone with her on the journey.

  29

  SOJOURN

  THEY LEFT WITH LITTLE FANFARE JUST AFTER DAWN THE NEXT day—Tad, Ket, Lousa, and Daret. Two of the Monastery’s Brethren agreed to accompany them for two days’ journey upriver to serve as guides. Tad was surprised and relieved to find that the Monastery had a modest stable with a dozen fine ponies. He had expected to walk.

  Each of the travelers rode a pony chosen by the stable master to suit individual personalities. Tad’s pony was a spirited animal named Thunder. Jet-black in color with two white fore fetlocks, Thunder danced ahead of the others eager for a run. Tad was not an experienced rider, having ridden only a few times on his uncle’s farm. Luckily, Thunder did most of the work for him. All he had to do was to hang on to the reins and stay in the saddle.

  Slung behind their saddles were waterproof packs containing their personal items and bedrolls. Two heavily laden pack ponies trudged behind them. When Tad saw the numerous bags and wooden crates piled high on the animals’ backs, he felt sympathy for them. It seemed an inordinate amount of equipment for four people. A road of sorts led out of town, a rough cut, packed earth logging road hacked by hand out of the hard clay and gravel. It made travel easier as they slowly wound into the foothills.

  The hills were bare, denuded indiscriminately by determined loggers who left nothing: no small trees, no saplings, and no underbrush to hold back the thin topsoil. Heavy rains had caused severe mudslides, gouging deep scars into the earth, at times engulfing the road. They bypassed these areas by climbing higher up the slope to find usable game trails. By mid morning, as Cleodora set for the first time of its twice a day cycle of light, they began to see tall groves of uncut trees on the north side of the river, virgin forests hundreds of years old.

  One of the Brethren, Brother Mabe, a tall fellow with short black hair, a beard and a perpetual smile, explained. “This land belongs to one of the townspeople of Fridan. He refuses to log it, please the Saints. It is the only place people can still hunt wild game.”

  “Do you hunt here?” Tad asked.

  “Oh, no. We do not leave the Monastery very often. This is a rare treat, though my backside grumbles at my mistreatment of it. I do not ride often.”

  “Why?”

  “We cannot mingle with the local townspeople for fear we might reveal too much.”

  “It seems a lonely life,” Tad told him.

  Brother Mabe smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “It is a Monastery. We came for solace and solitude. One cannot be lonely in the fellowship of our Lord.”

  The other Brother, Brother Lin, was Mabe’s opposite —short, fat and taciturn with a perpetual scowl. He rode poorly, often allowing his mount, a two-year-old roan, to veer off into the woods for grass. He swore under his breath as he kicked his mount’s flanks to urge it back into line.

  “Ponies are such horrid creatures,” he said after one such foray. “They refuse to follow orders. We should eat them for their meat and walk. A man’s feet should be closer to God’s good earth.”

  Tad laughed. “He senses your dislike of him. Hold the reins tighter and keep your legs clamped on his belly.”

  “It is difficult to conceal my dislike,” he puffed, “and my legs are too short to clamp anything. This is God’s retribution for my not being diligent enough in my cleaning chores. In the future, I shall clean more dutifully and with greater joy.”

  They rode all day except for a short respite for lunch. During the brief dusk between Corycia’s setting and Cleodora’s second rising, they stopped to set up camp for the night. Ket chose a spot high above the White River, now more a narrow, rushing stream than river, where several trees downed naturally by wind provided benches on which to sit. A roaring fire lifted the darkness as Brother Mabe prepared dinner. The three Saddir, with Brother Lin’s half-hearted assistance, pitched their large tent on a rise beyond the fire. Tad and the two Brothers chose bedrolls beneath the open sky. Tad wondered if the two had ever roughed it before. Brother Mabe in particular looked as though he was enjoying his freedom from the confines of the Monastery. However, Brother Lin appeared overwhelmed by life outside the walls.

  Dinner was a mi karth stew, a duck-size version of karth the Monastery raised, bread dumplings, carrots and a couple of tasty root vegetables Tad did not recognize. One was a small cluster of purple strands intertwined. Another resembled a yellow stone. He had watched Brother Mabe remove the tough outer membrane much like peeling a boiled egg, and then slice the soft interior. The monk had brought with him a bag of seasonings from which he carefully added a pinch to the stew, enhancing the flavor. Mugs of apple cider quenched their thirsts. The Saddir ate the stew, but did not seem to derive much pleasure from it.

  Seeing Lousa taking small bites and grimacing, Tad asked, “You don’t like it? It tastes pretty good to me.”

  Her half-hearted attempt at a smile told him more than her answer. “It has a hearty taste.”

  Ket answered more fully. “Your foods require some getting used to. I have learned to tolerate many of your foods, but my daughter has not had much experience with Terran foods, especially fowl.”

  Tad rushed to apologize. He knew that the Saddir preferred their own foods, but did not realize other foods could taste as bad to them as some Saddir foods did to Terrans. “We can cook Saddir meals for you.”

  “That is unnecessary and would require that we carry too many different supplies. We have supplements and dried foods we can consume, but at times we will be forced to eat off the land, even fowl and rabbits, I presume.”

  Lousa looked up at her father as if she was going to be sick. She set aside her stew and chose a piece of fruit from a pile Brother Mabe had set out in a small basket. “I prefer a vegetarian diet,” she explained. “Brother Mabe brought a large supply of fresh and dried fruits from the Monastery grounds. I … I cannot bring myself to eat meat.”

  “Many of our people are vegetarians,” Ket quickly explained. “I, too, prefer to not consume meats but have learned to, ah, challenge my taste buds since arriving on Charybdis.”

  Tad downed another large spoonful of stew. “After this, I will tailor my meals to your tastes. If we are to travel together, we must eat together.”

  Lousa smiled. Ket nodded. “That is gracious of you. We will try to temper our love of chilies and strong spices for your sake.”

  Knowing that it might be his last good meal for a while, Tad returned to the pot for a second bowl of stew. As the others lounged around the fire after eating, Brother Mabe and Brother Lin sang softy together in two-part harmony as they washed the dishes and packed away the food. The words were u
nfamiliar, but the melody reminded him of a song his mother sang to him as a child. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The melody was the same one that King Karal often hummed.

  “What is the name of that song?” he asked excitedly.

  Brother Lin was surprised at Tad’s outburst. “Why, it’s ancient folk tune from Earth, Greensleeves.”

  “My mother sang it to me.”

  Brother Lin smiled. “She must have wanted to hold strong memories of our roots. Though Saracen was a Plin, it is said that he, too, loved this song.”

  A cold chill rode Tad’s spine. Why would a song haunt him so deeply? He lay back, closed his eyes and listened to the words, imagining them sung by his mother.

  After a while, Ket and Daret withdrew to their tent, presumably to discuss strategies for the trip, leaving Tad and Lousa alone by the fire. Tad leaned back against a log and stared at the sky. He was full, the air was clean and cool and the night perfect. Cleodora was just rising over the foothills, casting a dim purplish shadow across the campsite and washing the treetops indigo.

  “I cannot get used to a third sun,” Lousa exclaimed, meaning Cleodora. “Especially at night. It seems so disconcerting.”

  This was news to Tad. “You don’t see Cleodora at all from Scylla?” Tad asked.

  She shook her head, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. “No, it is just another dim star seen from home. The night sky is so beautiful there. The Milky Way sweeps across the sky like a giant brush stroke, thousands upon thousands of scintillating points of light in a myriad of colors. Here, you can see the stars only in early morning.”

  “I guess I’ve never thought about it before.”

  “Cleodora is not a true star, you know.”

  “What do you mean?” Tad asked.

  She glanced at him. Her silver eyes glowed in the light of the campfire. “Cleodora is an artificial sun orbiting Charybdis. Our scientists say it was one of the reasons Saddir and Terrans first explored this system. No one knows how long it has been circling your planet, providing warmth and light, or what race originally placed it there. It is a great mystery.” She said the last wistfully, almost capitalizing the words.

  Tad shook his head. “I didn’t know that.” He thought of the Great Library. “Do the Plin know?”

  “I do not know. If they do, they show little curiosity about it. We have studied it for centuries, but still know so little about it.” She took a nibble from an apple. “Our world is nearer to Corycia but colder than yours. Both poles are ice-shrouded. We must live in the mid-equatorial region and even there the winters are long and harsh. Charybdis, too, would be too cold if not for Cleodora. It provides just enough extra warmth to make Charybdis habitable. I like your planet.”

  “Thank you,” Tad answered, and then laughed at the absurdity of accepting thanks for something as large as a world.

  Her smile warmed him more than the fire. Her silver upon silver eyes sparkled in the firelight. “I must sleep now,” she said. “Thank you for your company, Tad—on the journey—I mean.”

  Tad watched her walk away. Her petite body swayed seductively, so unlike Sira’s more ample body, but still somehow attractive for all her differences. A sharp pang of regret swept over him as he thought of Sira, but he quickly pushed it aside. He had no time for regrets. It seemed that fate had written the direction of his life for him long before he first stepped inside Delphi’s massive gates. The imbroglio of his life tugged at him from all directions. All he could do now was try to ride the whirlwind.

  Two days later, Brothers Mabe and Lin left the party. The group had ridden out of the forested hills, descending to a flat river plain thickly covered in prickly shrubs and clumps of tall grass with sharp, cutting edges. It was an uninviting country, drab and marshy. They rode single file on the narrow paths, discouraging conversation. At a shallow ford crossing the White River, now barely ten meters wide and thigh deep, the two monks reined in their ponies and looked at the others. Brother Mabe, as always, wore a smile on his face, and even Brother Lin’s perpetual scowl seemed slightly softened. He hung back, not speaking.

  “Go with God,” Brother Mabe pronounced as he made the sign of the cross in the air in front of them with two fingers. “We must return now.” He handed the reins of one of the pack ponies to Tad. The second, its load consisting mainly of items the Saddir, at Tad’s insistence, had determined they could do without, would return with them to the Monastery. Tad’s mount, Thunder, wanted to return too. He had to grip the reins tightly to keep the spirited beast under control.

  “When you are forced to proceed on foot, release the animals. They will find their way back to us eventually.”

  Tad sighed. “Must we?” He had hoped that they could ride all the way to the Tortured Land.

  “In three days’ time, you will reach the mountains. The ponies can go no farther. There is no grass for grazing on their barren slopes. You must abandon them to return or they will starve.”

  Tad looked at the load of supplies burdening the remaining pack pony. They would have to perform another culling if they were to carry their supplies on their backs. He had not considered that, but he could do little about it now. He would not abandon his quest.

  “Send Brother Alistair my thanks. If I do not see you again … well, you know.” Tad forced a smile to his lips.

  With a final wave, the two monks turned their backs on the small group and headed home, leaving Tad alone with three Saddir from another world whose motives he was still not certain he trusted. Ahead of them lay more than two weeks of difficult terrain and a long, hard journey before they reached the Waste, or the Tortured Land, as Ket preferred to call it. There, they would find the answers to their questions, or leave with more questions.

  Tad had been away from Delphi for less than two months and already he was homesick for the people he knew and the city he had come to love. What of King Karal? Was he safer without Tad there to draw down upon him the lightning wrath of the Blood Cabal, or was he in even greater danger from those who would depose him? Did Sira despise him for the actions of which he stood accused, or did she still have enough faith in him to trust him a little longer? Maybe more importantly, if the Blood Cabal learned of their sojourn into the Tortured Land, would they attempt to stop the expedition? Would they try to prevent him from finding the High Gate of Tomorrows?

  The others proceeded down the trail. Tad lingered a moment watching the two monks disappear into the tall grass, thinking it odd that he had grown so fond of their company in such a short time. Then, he kicked his pony in the side, urging him forward, fighting the overwhelming longing to turn around and accompany Brother Mabe and Brother Lin back to Fridan to await Captain Winset’s next visit. His heart lay in Delphi, but his future lay somewhere ahead of him. For good or for ill, he must pursue it. He could not go back home, not without answers.

  Ket led the small group with Daret dutifully following. Lagging slightly behind the two, Lousa rode just ahead of Tad, glancing behind occasionally to smile at him, as if reading his reluctance and urging him onward. The pack animal, tied to his saddle, held Tad’s pony back, lengthening the distance between him and the Saddir. He enjoyed the little space it created around him.

  In spite of his inner turmoil, it was a day made for traveling. The golden sky was cloudless and Corycia’s shadows pointed east by southeast, clearly marking their trail. The day was mild with a cool breeze but soon, he knew, the sun would beat down on them unmercifully. When they reached the mountains, they would turn south, headed deeper into unsettled Valastaria, into uncharted lands. He suspected that before their journey was done, the days would become much hotter and the desire to turn back stronger. Only his promise to Simios, the Plin Watcher, and his desire to see Sira once more kept his mind focused on the trials ahead. He knew that somewhere out there in the Tortured Land, he would find his destiny.

  30

  THE SPLIT LAND

  TAD DE SILVA WAS EXHAUSTED. HIS LEGS ACHED AND HIS shoulders were raw
from his cumbersome pack. They had loosed the ponies three days earlier when they had first entered the broken mountains and proceeded on foot. Thunder had not wanted to leave, hanging close by Tad’s elbow and whinnying, but eventually the other ponies’ eagerness to return rubbed off on him. Tad had watched the black pony disappear around a bend with deep regret. He hoped that all five animals would safely reach the Monastery.

  It had been difficult convincing Ket to leave a majority of the supplies behind. Ket, with typical scientist logic, had considered everything essential to the expedition. The first culling earlier at the river had eliminated the large tent, folding chairs and tables, and extra clothing, but he was reluctant to leave behind any instruments, even duplicate ones. Their individual loads had been staggering at first. Gradually, even Ket had come to realize the absurdity of packing luxuries such as books and a solar oven. Even greatly reduced, their packs bulged and the straps bit deeply into flesh.

  The land, which had seemed so level and featureless when viewed from the mountains, proved almost impassable. Parallel lines of deep ravines and gullies opened before them as if a giant talon had raked across the plains. Direct travel was impossible, forcing them into long, time-consuming detours. For three days, they had marched around the deepest ravines, clambering into and climbing out of smaller ones until they were lost. Two days of thick overcast skies had hidden the sun and stars and the compass was useless, spinning madly like a top.

  Now, half a day’s hard travel had left them stranded on a finger of rock that thrust into a deep chasm, the far side a tantalizing twenty meters away. Surrounded on all sides by precipitous cliffs, they had no choice but to backtrack.

  Tad was disgusted. He dropped his pack on the ground and sat on it. “I say we camp here. I cannot travel any farther today.”

  Ket cast him a contemptuous look, but Tad remained steadfast. “Very well,” he agreed. “We stop here and start again before dawn.”