The Dreaming

by Peter F. Hamilton

  He opened the top of the small stone barrel in the corner opposite the fire and removed the leather shoulder bag. It was one place relatively immune from casual farsight. He checked the bag’s contents hadn’t been discovered by the other apprentices, and slung its strap over his arm.

  “Very dapper,” Akeem observed.

  Edeard jumped, clutching the bag in an obviously guilty fashion. He hadn’t noticed the old Master sitting in the main hall. Everyone had been trying to duplicate the way the bandits had shielded themselves, with varying degrees of success. Edeard wasn’t sure how much mental effort Akeem put into the effect. He’d always had the ability to just sit quietly and blend naturally into the background.

  “Thank you,” Edeard replied. He self-consciously tugged at the bottom of his shirt.

  “Off out, are you?” Akeem asked with sly amusement, he gestured at the long table set for five. He’d made nothing of the bag.

  “Er, yes. My tasks are complete. I’ll start sculpting the new horses and dogs for Jibit’s farm tomorrow. Three of the defaults are ovulating; the males are in their pens.”

  “Some things are definitely easier for other species,” Akeem observed, and gave Edeard’s clothes another meaningful look. “So which of our town’s fine establishments are you gracing tonight?”

  “Um, I can’t afford the tavern. It’s just me and some of the other apprentices getting together, that’s all.”

  “How lovely. Are any of your fellow apprentices female by any chance?”

  Edeard clamped down hard on his thoughts, but there was nothing he could do about his burning cheeks. “I guess Zehar will be there. Possibly Calindy.” He shrugged his innocence in such matters.

  For once Akeem appeared awkward, though he’d put a strong shield around his own thoughts. “Lad… perhaps some time we should talk about such things.”

  “Things?” Edeard muttered in alarm.

  “Girls, Edeard. After all, you are sixteen now. I’m sure you notice them these days. You do know what to ask Doc Seneo for if uh… circumstances become favourable.”

  Edeard’s expression was frozen into place as he prayed to the Lady for this horror to end. “I… er, yes. Yes I do. Thank you.” Go to Doc Seneo and ask for a phial of vinak juice? Oh dear Lady, I’d rather chop it off altogether.

  Akeem sat back in his chair and let his gaze rise to the ceiling. “Ah, I remember my own youthful amorous adventures back in Makkathran. Oh those city girls in all their finery; the ones of good family would do nothing else all day long but pamper and groom themselves for the parties and balls that were thrown at night. Edeard I so wish you could see them. There isn’t one you wouldn’t fall in love with at first sight. Of course, they all had the devil in them when you got their bodice off, but what a vision they were.”

  “I have to go or I’ll be late,” Edeard blurted. Someone of Akeem’s age shouldn’t be allowed to use words like amorous and bodice.

  “Of course,” the old Master seemed amused by something. “I have been selfish keeping you here.”

  “I’m not that late.”

  “And I don’t mean tonight.”

  “Uh…”

  “I’m not up to instructing you any more, Edeard. You have almost outgrown your Master. I think you should go to Makkathran to study at the Guild in their Blue Tower. My name may still be remembered. At the very least my title demands some prerogatives; I can write you a letter of sponsorship.”

  “I… No. No, I can’t possibly go.”

  “Why not?” Akeem asked mildly.

  “To Makkathran? Me? It’s, no. Anyway, it’s… it’s so far away I don’t even know how far. How would I get there?”

  “Same way everyone does, my boy, you travel in one of the caravans. This is not impossible or remote, Edeard. You must learn to lift your eyes above the horizon, especially in this province. I would not see you stifled by Ashwell. For that is what surely will happen if you remain. I do not want your talent wasted. There is more to this world, this life, than a single village alone on the edge of the wilderness. Why, just travelling to Makkathran will show you that.”

  “I will hardly waste my talent by staying here. The village needs me. Look what has happened already with more genistars.”

  “Ah really? This village is already nervous about you, Edeard. You are strong, you are smart. They are neither. Oh don’t get me wrong, this is a pleasant place for someone like me to live out my remaining days. But it is not for you. Ashwell has endured for centuries before you; it will endure for centuries yet. Trust me. A place and people this stubborn and rooted in what they are will not vanish into the black heart of Honious without you. I will write your letter this week. The Barkus caravan is due before the end of the month. I know Barkus of old, he owes me some favours. You can leave with them.”

  “This month?” he whispered in astonishment. “So soon?”

  “Yes. There is no benefit in delay. My mind is clear on this matter.”

  “The new ge-cats…”

  “I can manage, Edeard. Please, don’t make this any more difficult for me.”

  Edeard walked over to the old Master. “Thank you, sir. This is—” He grinned. “Beyond imagination.”

  “Ha. We’ll see how much you thank me in a year’s time. The Masters of the Blue Tower are not nearly as lax as I have grown. They will have a fine time beating obedience into you. Your bones will be black and blue before the first day is half-gone.”

  “I will endure,” Edeard said. He laid a hand on the man’s shoulder, for once allowing the love he felt to shine in his mind. “I will prove you right to them. Whatever happens I will endure, for you. I will never give them cause to doubt your pupil. And I will make you proud.”

  Akeem gripped the hand, squeezing strongly. “I am already proud. Now come. You are dallying while your friends carouse. Leave now, and I will have yet another fine meal with our three juvenile dunderwits, listening to their profound talk and answering their challenging questions.”

  Edeard laughed. “I am a bad apprentice deserting my Master thus.”

  “Indeed you are. Now go, for the Lady’s sake. Let me summon up what is left of my courage else I shall flee to the tavern.”

  Edeard turned and walked out of the hall. He almost stopped, wanting to ask what Akeem had meant by they are already nervous about you. He would enquire tomorrow.

  “Edeard,” Akeem called.

  “Yes, Master?”

  “A word of caution. Stay silent that you are leaving, even to your friends. Envy is not a pretty blossom, and it has a custom of breeding resentment.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  ***

  The sun had dropped to the top of the rampart wall by the time Edeard hurried up a lane off the main street, heading for the granite cliff at the back of the village. Already the glowing colours of the night sky were emerging through the day’s blue like trees out of morning mist. Old Buluku was directly overhead. The vulpine serpent manifesting as a violet stream that slithered through the heavens in a fashion which none of Querencia’s few astronomers could ever fathom. It certainly didn’t shift with the seasons, nor even orbit round the sun. As Edeard watched, a sliver of electric-blue light rippled lazily along its length, a journey which would take several minutes, too weak to cast a shadow across the dry mud of the lane. Odin’s Sea was already drifting towards the northern horizon. A roughly oval patch of glowing blue and green mist that visited the summer nights. The Lady’s teachings were that it formed the heart of the Void, where the souls of men and women were carried by the Skylords so they could dream away the rest of existence in quiet bliss. It was only the good and the worthy who were blessed with such a voyage, and the Skylords hadn’t been seen in Querencia’s skies for so long they were nothing but legend and a faith kept by the Lady’s followers. Protruding from the ragged edges of Odin’s Sea were the reefs, scarlet promontories upon which Skylords carrying the souls of those less worthy were wrecked and began their long fall into Honi
ous and oblivion.

  Edeard often wondered if so many unworthy humans had been carried aloft by the Skylords that there were simply no more of the great creatures left. It would be so typical that humans should bring such casual destruction to this universe. Thankfully, the Lady’s teachings said that it was humans who had declined in spirit; that was why the Empyrean Lady had been anointed by the Firstlifes to guide humans back to the path which would once again lead them to the Heart of the Void. It was a sad fact that not many people listened to the Lady’s kind words these days.

  “Calling to the Skylords?” a voice asked.

  Edeard smiled and turned. His farsight had kept watch on her since she stepped out of the church ten minutes ago. One of the reasons he’d chosen this particular route. Salrana emerged from the shadows of the market place. Behind the deserted stalls, the church curved up above the rest of the village buildings with quiet purpose. Its crystal roof glimmered in refraction from the altar lanterns.

  “They didn’t answer,” he said. “They never do.”

  “One day they will. Besides you’re not quite ready to sail into the Heart yet.”

  “No. I’m not.” Edeard couldn’t quite match her humour. He might as well have been travelling into the Heart given the distance to Makkathran. How will she cope with me leaving?

  He wasn’t the only one growing up this summer. Salrana had also put on several inches over the last couple of years; her shoulders were broad as if she was growing into a typical sturdy farmer’s girl, but whereas her contemporaries were thickening out ready for their century of toil on the land she remained slim and agile. Her plain blue and white novice robe had grown quite tight, which always made Edeard glance at her in a wholly inappropriate fashion. Not that there was any helping it, she was losing her puppy fat to reveal the sharpest cheekbones he’d ever seen. Everyone could see how beautiful she was going to be. Thankfully, she still suffered from spots and her auburn hair remained wild and girlish, otherwise being in her presence would be intolerable. As it was, he viewed her friendship with delight and dismay in equal measure. She was far too young to be wanting to bed, though he couldn’t help wondering how long it would be before she was old enough. Such thoughts made him fearful that the Lady would strike him down with some giant lightning bolt roaring out from Honious itself. Though of course Her priestesses did marry.

  Irrelevant now. Even if I do come back, it won’t be for years. She’ll be with some village oaf and have three children.

  “You’re in a funny mood,” Salrana said, all innocent and curious. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Actually it is. I’ve had some good news. Great news.” He held up a hand. “And I will tell you later, I promise.”

  “Gosh, a secret and in Ashwell. Bet I find out by noon tomorrow.”

  “Bet you don’t.”

  “Bet me what?”

  “No. I’m being unfair. It’s a private thing.”

  “Now you’re just being cruel. I’ll pray to the Lady for your redemption.”

  “That’s very kind.”

  She stood right up close to him, still smiling sweetly. “So are you off up to the caves?”

  “Er, yeah, one or two of the others said they might go in. I thought I’d see.”

  “So when do I get asked?”

  “I don’t think Mother Lorellan would want you in the caves at night.”

  “Pha. There’s a lot of things the good Mother doesn’t know I do.” She shook her hair defiantly, squaring her shoulders. The aggressive pose lasted a couple of seconds before she started giggling.

  “Well I’ll pray she doesn’t find out,” he told her.

  “Thank you, Edeard.” Her hand rubbed playfully along his arm. “Who’d have thought it just a few years ago. Both of us happy. And you: one of the lads now.”

  “I was in a fight before they accepted me.” I killed people. Even now he could still see the face of the bandit before the man smashed into the tree, the astonishment and fear.

  “Of course you were, that’s a typical boy thing. That’s why you’re going into the caves again tonight. We all have to find a way to live here, Edeard. We’re going to be in Ashwell for a long long time.”

  He couldn’t answer, just gave her a fixed smile.

  “And watch out for that Zehar. She’s already bragging how she intends to have you. She was very descriptive. For a baker’s apprentice.”

  “She is? She wants…?”

  Salrana’s face was devilsome. “Oh yes.” She blew him a kiss, giggling. “Let me know the details. I’m dying to know if you can really do such wicked things.” Then her back was to him, her skirt held high by both hands, and she went racing off down the slope, giggling all the way.

  Edeard let out a long breath. His emotions were as unsteady as his legs. If there was ever a reason to stay in Ashwell, he was looking at it. His farsight followed her long after she’d turned a corner on to main street, making sure she was safe as she ran along on her errand.

  ***

  There were a number of caves burrowing into the cliffs behind Ashwell. A lot of them had been expanded over the decades, modified into storerooms for the long winter months, where the temperature and moisture hardly varied at all. Several of the larger were used as barns. Edeard wasn’t interested in those. Instead, he headed for a small oddly angled fissure in the rock on the western end of the cliff, only thirty yards from where the encircling wall began. He had to scramble up a pile of smoothed boulders to reach it, then grip the upper lip and swing himself into the darkness. Anyone larger than him would have real trouble passing through the gap; he’d only be able to use it for another year or so himself. Once inside, the passage opened up, and the soft background babble of the village’s longtalk cut off abruptly. His immediate world contracted to a dank gloomy blackness; even his farsight ability couldn’t perceive through such a depth of rock. All he could sense was the open cavity around him. Only after he’d gone round a curve did he see a glint of yellow light ahead.

  Seven apprentices were gathered in the narrow cave with its high crevice apex, sitting round a couple of battered old lamps whose wicks were chuffing out a lot of smoke. Their talk stopped as he entered, then their smiles bloomed in welcome. It was a gratifying sensation of belonging. Even Obron raised a cheery hand. Fahin beckoned him over. Edeard was very conscious of Zehar watching him with a near-feline intent, and gave her a nervous grin. Her answering smile was carnivorous.

  “Didn’t think you were coming,” Fahin said.

  “I got delayed slightly,” Edeard explained. He opened his bag and pulled out the large wine bottle, which earned him some appreciative whistles as he held it up.

  Fahin leaned in closer. “Thought you were running scared of Zehar,” he murmured in a knowing whisper.

  “Sweet Lady, has she told everyone but me?”

  “I overheard it from Marilee. She was trying to get Kelina to take some vinak juice from Seneo’s pharmacology store. I assumed you were party to it.”

  “No,” Edeard growled.

  “Okay. Well should the need arise, and I do mean rise, just ask me. I can get you a phial without anyone being any the wiser, especially Seneo.”

  “I shall remember it well, thank you.”

  Fahin nodded, as if unconcerned. An attitude confirmed by his passive surface thoughts. He unbuckled his ancient physick satchel and took out some dried kestric leaves. The pair of them became the centre of some not very subtle attention from the other apprentices in the cave.

  Edeard shifted position and opened the wine. It was dark red, which Akeem always claimed was a sign of quality. Edeard was never certain. All the wine available in Ashwell had a strong taste which lingered well into the next day. He supposed he’d get used to it eventually, but as for actually liking it… “Fahin, where do you see yourself in fifty years?”

  The doctor’s tall apprentice glanced up from the little slate pestle he was preparing. “You’re very serious tonight, my friend.
Mind you, she does have that affect on people.”

  For an instant Edeard thought he was talking about Salrana, then Fahin’s eyes glanced over at Zehar, a movement amplified by his over-size lenses.

  “No,” Edeard said irritably. “Seriously, come on: fifty years’ time. What are you working towards?”

  “Why I’ll be doctor, of course. Seneo is actually a lot older than most people realize. And she says I am her most promising apprentice in decades.” He began grinding the kestric leaves with smooth easy motions of the mortar.

  “That’s it? Village doctor?”

  “Yes.” Fahin wasn’t looking at Edeard any more, his thoughts took on an edge. “I’m not like you, Edeard; Honious take me, I’m not even like Obron. I’m sure you’re going to build our Eggshaper Guild to greatness over the next century. You’ll probably be Mayor inside thirty years. Ashwell’s name will spread, people will come, and this land will flourish once again. We all hope that from you. So, given the circumstances, village doctor and your friend in such times is no small goal after all.”

  “You truly think I will do that?”

  “You can do it.” Fahin mashed up the last flakes of leaf into a thin powder. “Either that or you’ll lead a barbarian army to sack Makkathran and overthrow the old order. You have the strength to do either. I saw it. We all did. That sort of strength attracts people.”

  “Don’t say that,” Edeard said. “Not even in jest.”

  “Who’s jesting?” Fahin poured the kestric powder into a small white clay pipe, adding some tobacco.

  Edeard stared at his friend in some alarm. Is this what people think? Is this why I make them nervous?

  “You know the gate guards say they still farsight your fastfoxes at night sometimes,” Fahin said. “Do you keep them out there?”

  “What? No! I sent it away when we got back; you were with me, you saw me do it. And how would the guards know that, the old fools. They’re asleep most of the night anyway, and they can’t tell one animal from another at any distance.”