It was barely five turns since the keep at Chalimar had come crashing down and the power of the Unan-Chinneroth had been broken; yet already, history was aging into legend. People spoke of the ‘Six Heroes’—Keris, Shann, Alondo, Rael, Patris, and Lyall. The role of the hu-mans Alexander McCann and Susan Gilmer, as well as that of the Chandara, Boxx, had been quietly expunged. It seemed that Kelanni could not come to terms with the fact that they might owe their deliverance to those of another race.
She recalled the look of irritation on Shann’s face. The girl had vowed that one day she would sit down and write a chronicle of their adventures. Set the record straight. Keris had not attempted to dissuade her, but she could not help but wonder whether anyone would want to read it. Most people preferred the comfort of a lie to the cold hardness of truth.
The first few days following the Liberation were marked by idealism and hope. The hu-mans were gone—the last of them having seemingly perished when the keep fell. There were persistent stories that a group of Keltar had survived the destruction and were laying low with the intention of seizing power once again, but as time passed and nothing transpired, the rumours gradually died.
In an official ceremony of the new joint Ruling Council of Kelanni-Drann and Kelanni-Skell, the Chandara had been granted unfettered possession, in perpetuity, of Illaryon and Atarah and the land known as the Warren, to be conferred on their descendants... and so on and so forth. And the Chandara, who knew nothing of rights or land or possessions, had sat patiently, like sages listening to the ramblings of young children, before finally returning to their forests to plant and tend their trees and sit amid the branches, singing madrigals and remembering the lives of long ago.
So it was that the two races who had come together for the salvation of their world now drifted apart once more. Every now and then Keris thought of journeying to Illaryon, to pay her respects and inquire after Boxx. To sit with her in the glade of white flowers and discuss the meaning of all that they had seen and experienced together. Yet each time the thought had faded and the seasons continued to turn. This summer it will be different, she told herself. This summer, I will make the time.
Keris had been greeted initially with awe and adulation and quickly found that she hated both. She was offered appointments on various committees set up to explore the finer points of rebuilding, water reclamation, sewage systems, and the like. Rejecting them all out of hand, she awoke early one morning, mounted a graylesh, and headed off into the open countryside.
Fresh air filled her nostrils and banished the fog from her thoughts. Soon, the land started to rise and she saw that she was entering the foothills of the Tragar Mountains. As evening fell, she encountered a mining camp and decided to spend the night. There she learned of a cabin, far back in the hills, that had been left empty for the season. Coins were exchanged, and the following afternoon, she arrived and set up home.
The terrain was rugged and game was scarce. Her days were reduced to the essentials of survival—gathering scraps of wood, fetching water from a tiny brook that gurgled from bare rock, stalking prey for food. It was paradise.
Paradise lasted exactly six days.
Early on the morning of the seventh day, she awoke to a cavalcade on her doorstep. How they had found her, she never discovered. Banners fluttered in the wind, proudly bearing Lyall’s symbol of the two linked hemispheres, symbolizing the uniting of their world. Forty soldiers and dignitaries riding on graylesh, sent to track down a lone hermit hiding out in the hills. She blinked at them in bleary-eyed disbelief.
They begged, pleaded, and cajoled her to return. She steadfastly refused. At one point, she was tempted to fetch her cloak and staff and expel them by force, but common sense told her that one against forty did not make for promising odds, even for her. Besides, it soon became clear that they were not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. And even if by some miracle she succeeded in driving them off, what was she going to do when the next forty turned up, as they surely would?
With a heavy heart, she finally acquiesced. Everything would be fine, a portly, bald, permanently out-of-breath man in fine robes assured her. They had a position for her—one ideally suited to her unique talents. So it was that Keris became head of a new body responsible for the maintenance of world order.
It turned out that it was little more than a symbolic position. The nine deputies who served under her were supremely efficient, leaving her with little to do other than stand around and look important. At one point she had feared that they might raise a statue to her. Now she realised with a sickening dread that she had become that statue.
She turned away from the anguished face in the mirror. Today was an important day. And she had duties to perform...
A short while later her graylesh pulled up at a neat and well-appointed homestead to the northeast of Corte. She patted the animal on its striped flank and dismounted. Two boys were playing in the yard.
“I want to be the Heroine this time.”
“Only if I can have the staff.”
“That’s not fair... ”
Embroiled in their argument, they ignored her as she climbed the porch and entered the house.
Without warning, a tiny figure rushed her, clamping onto her legs. The Heroine of Gort stood immobilized, powerless in the grip of a little girl.
Oliah appeared, bent down, and swept the girl up into her arms. “Shann, you mustn’t do that.” She looked up at Keris. “I’m terribly sorry. She does it to everyone. It seems to be a phase she’s going through. Shann, this is your aunt Keris. She is a heroine to our people. You must show her respect.” The infant buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Oliah repeated. “Alondo will be down soon. Can I offer you some refreshment? I have some freshly squeezed moba juice.”
“Thank you, no,” she responded, regaining her composure.
Moments later Alondo descended the stairs, sporting his signature red cap. Lyall’s death had hit him hard in the days following the keep’s fall. Rumour had it that he did not pick up his instrument for a whole turn. He and Shann had held each other and cried together for long periods. Eventually, time, love, and a new family did much to heal the wound.
“Keris. It’s good to see you. Patris sends his regards. I Ringed him just this morning. He sends his apologies for not being here, but he simply could not get away. I guess the office of Guildmaster is a pretty demanding one. Sakara seems to be thriving—in fact, his people have offered to help out in the rebuilding work in some of the other cities. He said if there is anything Chalimar needs, he can steal it for you, for a fair price. He also said to remind you that you still owe him a great deal of money, but he was only joking about that... ” His smile evaporated. “At least, I think he was joking.” He beamed once more. “You’re going to the launching, right?”
Keris gave her well-rehearsed reply. “As head of the Security Division, it is my duty to attend in order to monitor proceedings and oversee crowd control.”
Alondo’s eyes twinkled. “Of course. Well, we will be leaving in just a moment. You are welcome to ride along with us.”
“I would be happy to provide you with an escort,” she replied.
She watched as Alondo and Oliah gathered up the children and set them in the wagon. Oliah took the reins while Alondo sat against the backboard, and strummed an intro. The family set off, singing a jaunty travelling song as the wagon swayed in rhythm.
They arrived at the launch site close to midday. The snub-nosed Diametric Drive, now freed of its cocoon of girders, squatted on an undulating plain just south of Persillan. The encircling crowd parted and Rael met them, all smiles. The boy had filled out in a pleasing way.
She had not seen him in a while. As Hannath’s successor and head of the combined-world project, he moved in very different circles to her.
He led them to a low, single-storey building inside the perimeter. In a white, featureless room, the small figure of Shann sat, covered in reflective silver and su
rrounded by an army of fussy attendants in light blue overalls.
As they entered, Shann’s eyes misted and she threw her arms around each of them in turn, lifting and kissing the children, while Rael stood patiently by the door.
Alondo voiced the question on everyone’s mind. “So, when are you and Rael going to get together, then?”
It was Rael who answered. “I made her a promise that I would help her reach the stars first.”
“He’s got a long way to go,” Shann teased. “This trip is no more than three orbits of our world.” There was a ripple of sympathetic laughter.
The first Kelanni to enter the space above the clouds. When the new Diametric Drive project had been conceived, Shann had made clear her fervent wish to pilot the craft. No one was about to veto the ‘fervent wish’ of one of the ‘six heroes’. However, the look in Rael’s eyes betrayed his secret hope that she might yet choose to stay by his side, rooted to the ground.
For the first time since she had met the boy from beyond the Great Barrier, she felt sorry for him.
Greetings and farewells concluded, they parted, allowing the fussy blue army to reclaim Shann and lead her out to where the great, cold ship waited to bear her to the great, cold stars.
~
Later that night, Keris sat alone in her darkened office. Outside her window, fireworks clattered and wailed and burst into flowers of blue and yellow and pink—yet another innovation, courtesy of the scientists of Kelanni-Skell. The people of Kelanni-Drann had embraced the new science as fervently as one might embrace a new religion. Yet in spite of all its wonders, Keris sometimes found herself wishing for the uncomplicated, trusting faith of simpler times.
She felt old. Old and tired.
There was a movement at her back, and a darker shadow filled the open doorway. “Yes, Alber. What is it?”
The youngest of her nine lieutenants stepped into the office as if he were treading on holy ground. “Sincere apologies, my Lady. I was not certain I would find you here at this late hour. A matter of some importance... ” He trailed off, as if frightened by his own audacity.
“Go on,” she encouraged, in a gentler tone.
“It concerns the hu-man, McCann. We received a report from Dannel, the agent assigned to keep watch over him. Seven days ago he left his cabin and headed to the ruined city of the ancients at Gal-Mador.”
Left alone on their world, McCann had chosen to take up residence in the wilds of Kelanni-Skell. He said it was because it reminded him of somewhere called Scotland. As far as she was concerned, the decision to spy on him seemed at best a waste of time and at worst a manifestation of paranoia. However, she had held her tongue on the assumption that the Ruling Council would eventually see the futility of the assignment.
“The Council has determined that McCann has the right to live anywhere on our world and to travel wherever he wishes.”
“Indeed, my Lady. Quite so. However, Dannel reports that while there, he made a discovery—a cache of ancient spheres, similar to the ones found by my Lady at Kynedyr.”
Actually, it was Patris who made that particular find. She refrained from correcting him. “What were they?”
“The experts in Kieroth are still translating the ancient. However, it seems to be a complete history of the Kelanni prior to the Goratha— the dark time. It is said to be the greatest archaeological discovery ever.”
Although Annata had granted her a vision of the thriving city of Kynedyr as it appeared prior to the disaster, almost nothing was known of the people of that time.
“Why does this concern the Security Division?” she asked.
“Dannel reports that after playing the recordings at the central archive, the hu-man left, abandoning them. When Dannel inspected the box, she found that there were sixteen receptacles. Only... ”
“Only what?” she pressed him.
“Only, one of them—the earliest of the recordings—was missing. Dannel believes that the hu-man took it.”
It was a serious charge. Her investigator training kicked in. “Did Dannel see McCann take the sphere?”
“No, Lady Keris. However, he could easily have concealed it about his person. Dannel lost him amid the ruins and he has not been seen since; nor has he returned to his cabin.”
For thirty turns and more, hu-mans had oppressed the Kelanni. It was perhaps only natural that people would continue blame them for every morsel of misfortune—every crumb of calamity. Like putting on a favourite shirt or a comfortable pair of old, worn-out shoes.
She steepled her fingers. “The sphere may simply have been missing when McCann first found the cache. Besides, what possible motive could the hu-man have for stealing one of our ancient artefacts?”
“Dannel has a theory. She believes that the sphere may have revealed that hu-mans were meddling in our affairs in the distant past— that they may even have been responsible for the Goratha itself. When he discovered its contents, McCann took the sphere and ran, fearing what the Council might do to him when they learned the truth.”
It was a garment, threadbare and full of holes—yet compelling enough to anyone who still nursed memories of oppression and would welcome an opportunity to exact revenge against the hu-man. Any hu-man.
McCann sacrificed everything and stranded himself alone on our world. He should have the opportunity to defend himself. Honour demanded no less. Fortunately, being head of the Security Division afforded her a certain degree of freedom.
“I am familiar with hu-mans and their ways. I will take personal charge of this investigation.”
Alber’s eyes widened in the flickering illumination from the window. “My Lady... ?”
“I will travel to Kelanni-Skell using Dagmar Tower.”
“I will arrange for an escort to accompany you.”
“No,” she said. “I will travel alone. You will Ring Dannel and tell her that she may continue with her enquiries, but she is to take no action until I arrive.”
“Yes, but—”
“Brant is to be in charge of the Division until I return. Neither you nor he are to reveal where I am or what I am doing. As far as anyone else is concerned, I am... I am visiting the Chandara in the Forest of Illaryon.”
“The Council—”
“Under no circumstances is the Council to be informed of my whereabouts. Is that clear?”
Alber shifted his feet unhappily. “Yes, Lady Keris.”
She stood up from her desk. “Do not concern yourself. I will be quite safe. I will return as soon as I can.”
She swept out of her office and set out in search of the last hu-man remaining on Kelanni.
— End of Book Three—
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The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) Page 113
