With no worries about supplies and nothing to do but watch the calm sea slide by, life was tranquil and indolent for the chosen, so it was almost with regret that they sighted the low dark smudge of land on the horizon. A buzz of excitement and trepidation filled the ship, and people invaded Kieran’s lonely roost to peer ahead until he quit it and found another, somewhere that Talsy could not find him. As the land drew nearer, they passed several rocky islands inhabited by sea birds and seals.
The next morning, ship slowed as it approached a hostile, rocky coastline, where foaming waves broke over jagged stone spurs waiting to disembowel an unwary vessel. Chanter turned the ship and sailed up the coastline in search of a friendlier harbour. At midday, they reached a sandy cove, and Chanter guided the ship into it, pushing its bow into the sand.
The Mujar used Earthpower to warp the ship's high bow, causing the rock to shimmer and flow into a ramp leading down to the beach. When everyone had disembarked, he destroyed the ship that had carried them across the ocean. It slumped and lost its shape, and the mast oozed down to mingle with the hull until the vessel was no more than a lump of wave-washed granite. Turning away, Chanter gazed at the sunlit land that sloped from the golden beach. Tall trees shaded meadows dotted with clumps of pale rock, and further inland a forest of giant red-leafed trees stood, their silver trunks dappled with rosy shade.
Chanter headed for them, and Talsy caught up to walk beside him while the chosen straggled behind, burdened with their belongings and provisions. At the edge of the forest, he paused to allow them to rest, and many flopped down to stretch out on the soft grass and adjust to a surface that did not constantly move. Talsy found that, after a month at sea, she swayed to the ship's gentle roll even on dry land. She sat down and eyed Chanter, who stood gazing around. His nostrils flared and his brows drew together. She could sense it too, a kind of frisson that passed through her every few seconds, like a heartbeat of chill.
Chanter turned to her. "There's something wrong here. Can you feel it?"
She nodded. "What is it?"
"Wild Earthpower, controlled by something, but I don't know what."
Talsy glanced at the chosen, who talked, ate or rested, clearly unaware of this land's strange emanation. Chanter continued to gaze around, his eyes intent, his expression a mixture of puzzlement and worry. After a few minutes, he went over to a rock and laid his hand on it. Talsy braced herself for the Dolana, but what happened next shocked and frightened her. A flash of Earthpower, so strong that it became visible in an instant of hard glitter, engulfed him. Chanter sprang away with a yell of injured surprise. Talsy gasped and shivered in the chilling aftermath, and many of the chosen cried out in alarm. In the frozen moment that the Mujar stared at the rock in shocked disbelief, the land attacked.
Roots whipped out of the ground and snagged several of the chosen. Chasms opened with a dull ripping and swallowed two people. The rest jumped up with cries of fear. A few brave men tried to extricate the trapped people, and the rest fled, many more falling foul of the whipping roots. Kieran drew his sword and chopped through the thick roots that bound a young girl to the ground, and the severed ends writhed like infuriated snakes. Those who were trapped screamed in pain and fear as the roots tightened with deadly intent, and the chasms started to close. The soil beneath their feet rippled, seeking more prey, and roots erupted like giant ropes, blindly groping for victims.
Talsy stood frozen with shock, amazed by the sudden chaos and the animation of nearby trees, whose branches whipped about as if a hurricane lashed them. She had seen something like it before, and turned to Chanter.
"A Kuran!"
He shook his head, frowning. "Kuran and Dargon."
"Do something!"
The Mujar looked pensive, then marched into the melee of struggling people. He placed his palms on the ground, and the icy hush of Dolana clamped down as a ripple of it spread from him, freezing all the activity of earth and trees within its sphere. As the manifestation ended, the roots fell away and the chasms stopped deepening, allowing those within to be hauled out. The chosen gasped and wept, clinging to each other. Sheera hurried amongst them to tend to the injured, soothing sobbing girls. They all cast worried glances at Chanter, their eyes darting around for danger. Kieran sheathed his sword and approached Chanter as Talsy ran over.
"What's going on?" she demanded as Kieran opened his mouth.
Chanter shook his head. "I'm not sure. There is intense hatred here, a lust for the death of Truemen."
"What are Dargon?"
"Souls, like Kuran, but of the earth. More powerful than Kuran, but much slower to anger."
She glanced around at the stillness that surrounded them. "What did you do?"
"I've taken control of this area. None may defy my will."
Talsy relaxed a little, grateful for his presence. He moved a short distance away, and waited.
"I must find out what's going on," he explained, when Talsy joined him.
"Are you going to summon them?"
"No need. They're already here."
Talsy shivered, her mind awhirl with visions of strange, monstrous beings as ugly as the Kuran were beautiful. The chosen's sobbing hysteria calmed as they waited, and, after what seemed like a long time, a faint mist rose from the soil. It hung over the ground in a low, circular layer. It thickened, changing from opalescent white to a deep ruby red streaked with brown, grey, dull green and amber. The colours took on the hard glitter of Dolana. Unlike the Kuran's soft, velvety texture, the Dargon reflected the solidity of earth.
The flatness swelled, taking on a shape and form that defied description. Like the Kuran, it left only an impression of form, for her eyes could not seem to focus on it properly. The colours swirled into glittering order, a grey sheath with a deep red core whence angry amber eyes burnt. A formless brown swelling supported this, balled in fury atop massive, dragging roots of rich black loathing. Cold hatred flowed from it in icy waves and swirling tendrils that crawled and clung, a carpet of dark hard colour that held the distant glow of a bottomless pit.
Talsy recoiled from its dark strength and the power of its fury.
Chanter tilted his head. "Earth brother."
The Dargon's voice moaned deep within the earth, a soft groan so faint and low that Talsy strained to hear it. "Release me, Blessed One, vengeance must be."
"No. Walk not in death, giver of life."
"We bleed, we suffer, we heed the call to defend."
Chanter considered this. "Granted are you, but these few are mine."
The Dargon swelled, its colours becoming more vibrant. "Blood must feed the dying, death will walk within."
"These are mine."
"Blessed of Life, bring you death."
"No." Chanter shook his head. "Let them be, or you will fight me, and neither you nor your brothers will prevail, nor sister Kuran. Death comes from the ocean. You will be saved."
"We will not fight you. Death is already here. They will stray and die."
"No!" Chanter stamped his foot, and a wave of Dolana rolled away from the impact, jolting the Dargon into a momentary smear. It recovered, flattening a little. "Heed me well," Chanter said. "These are chosen, no harm will you cause them."
"Mark them then, like this one."
Talsy yelped as the ground under her sagged.
Chanter gripped her arm, steadying her. "No, Dargon, be afraid, know them all and do them no harm. This is law!" He stamped again, harder, and a flash of Earthpower rippled away, causing the Dargon to shudder and lose its form. It sank into the ground, its colours paling until only the mist remained, then that settled on the grass like dew, leaving a circle of lush herbage glittering with droplets of moisture.
Chanter turned to survey the group of frightened people who gazed at him with wide eyes. A tremor passed under Talsy's feet, and she glanced at the Mujar, but he seemed unconcerned. The roots that had risen from the earth writhed and retreated. The chasms closed, leaving the ground undisturbed. The
trembling settled, and peace descended on the glade.
Chanter gave a curt nod and turned away, but Talsy grabbed him. "Wait a minute! Will you explain what just happened?"
He took her hand and led her away from the group, perching on a rock while she stood before him.
"The souls here are angry; furious, in fact. Kuran and Dargon, especially, lust for Lowmen's death. Your people have committed some heinous crime, and now they are at war with the land. The souls are so angry that I was forced to make it law in order to protect you. Asking was not enough, which in itself is very strange."
"So we're safe now."
He nodded. "They cannot defy Mujar law. It's forbidden. He said that death is already here, so the Hashon Jahar have arrived ahead of us."
"How can people be at war with the land and survive?"
"I don't know, but I think we'll find out."
Talsy gazed around at the serene landscape. "It seems so normal, not like the forest next to Jishan."
"Here, the souls have won. There are no Lowmen, so they're content. But near cities you'll see their rage. The Dargon have risen up from deep within the earth, and the pulse of Dolana you feel is theirs. They don't normally dwell so close to the surface. They're here to fight."
She shivered. "Guardians of the earth, as Kuran are guardians of the forests."
"Yes."
"Surely there can't be any chosen in this land. These people must have done worse than any of mine."
Chanter shook his head. "There will be chosen, but we may have to free them."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see. We must move on quickly if we are to save any."
The weary, downcast chosen were chivvied into moving on once more, herded by Kieran and Sheera. Talsy walked ahead with the Mujar, who set a relentless pace until dark, when they were all ready to drop from exhaustion, except him. They camped in a tranquil glade that everyone regarded with deep suspicion. People who were used to the threat of dire bears and wolves now found themselves in a land where the trees and ground were potential threats.
Two more days of travel brought them to a road, which led to a ghost town. While empty, it had not been abandoned, for no one had left it. Skulls gaped from the ground, buried to the neck and crushed. Knotted roots held many skeletons; others were impaled on branches or crushed under fallen boughs. The town had perished when the land had attacked, and several years had passed since then.
The chosen hurried through the ghoulish village, eager to escape its grim decorations of Trueman demise. Beyond it, they followed the road once more, which trees and weeds invaded as the angry land reclaimed it. Along the way, they passed other victims, hapless travellers who had fallen prey to the land's attack. Over the next week, they passed through another three dead villages, nothing left of their inhabitants but whitening bones. Talsy wondered if anyone was left alive on this continent. It seemed impossible for anyone to survive the land's rage.
On the eighth day, Talsy followed Chanter out of the forest and onto a tract of cleared ground, where she stopped to stare at the amazing sight before them. The ruins of a city rose from a black web. The ebon substance surrounded the town and spread outward from it in narrow lines, like a spider's web of pathways. Within these lines, sickly plants with yellow leaves and small fruits grew. Kieran strode forward to squat next to the nearest pathway and examine it. Talsy came to stand beside him, but the Mujar and chosen hung back. Kieran looked up at her.
"Tar. It's made from oil." He gazed at the ruins. "They must have a refinery here."
"But why do this?" Talsy gestured at the odd maze of pathways.
He shook his head. "Ask the Mujar."
Talsy returned to Chanter, who stood beside Sheera, regarding the black web with narrowed eyes. His aversion to it told her that he knew what it was.
She asked, "Why?"
"Dried earth blood would shield them. It's the only thing that the souls, like Mujar, are afraid of. As long as they walked upon it, they were safe, yet I think that it's the reason for the war in the first place."
"What do you mean?"
"It's forbidden to take blood from the earth, as it is forbidden to kill the creatures of this world." He pondered, frowning. "I would say that they found a way to extract earth blood, and used it for something terrible. The two crimes have enraged the souls."
Talsy gazed at the silent city. "There doesn't appear to be anyone here, though."
"No. They are all dead. The Hashon Jahar have been here."
She shivered. "So the earth blood protected them from the souls, but not the Hashon Jahar."
"Nothing will stop the Hashon Jahar."
Talsy flung him a tight smile. "Except a Mujar."
Chanter nodded. "Go and take what you wish from the city, I'll meet you on the other side."
With a rush of Ashmar and the soft beating of wings he vanished. A glossy raven rose into the air in his place, flapping away on long pinions.
Sheera tugged at her sleeve. "There must be many dead there. See the birds."
Talsy looked up at the vultures and crows that circled above the ruins, squabbling and cawing. The city had only fallen a few days ago.
"We don't have to go in. Let those with strong stomachs go, we'll walk around."
A few mature men and older youths elected to go, primarily to gather food. Kieran led the gang of looters into the ruined city while Talsy went with the rest around its perimeter. On the far side, the Mujar re-joined them, and they waited for the looters. Two hours passed before the band straggled from the city, pulling a handcart piled high with all manner of welcome foodstuffs, and carrying many bulging sacks and satchels.
The chosen made camp out of sight of the ruins, in a pleasant glade that tall red-leafed trees surrounded. A patch of grass provided the children with a place to play, and a rivulet chuckled through it. The looters had pilfered a veritable feast of nuts, sweets, dried meat and flour, even eggs and a few fruits. The strange, delicious sweetmeats delighted the youngsters, and Talsy sampled quite a few, finding them wonderfully sweet. The women baked fresh bread and fried the eggs for a hot feast. The men had also collected knives, pots and all manner of useful utensils. Bloated with the spoils of Trueman's downfall, the chosen slept while Chanter roamed the forest.
In a wolf's lean shape, he padded ahead to see what they would encounter on the next day's journey. He found only forest and wild grassland, and the road they would travel was wide and well worn. Leaping into the air, he changed into a hawk and winged onward, covering ground that would take the chosen two or three days to traverse. There, he found a great walled metropolis paved with earth blood and surrounded by a moat of it. Close-packed houses with grey slate roofs lined narrow lanes and broader roads, washing strung between them. Grander edifices in the city centre were either noble mansions or government buildings. Guards patrolled the walls, and foul black smoke rose from mighty metal containers on roaring furnaces. From the smell of it, they were boiling earth blood, and a deep rage grew in him. Turning away, he flew eastward through valleys that led more directly to the sea than the roads the chosen followed.
Far to the east, not long risen from the sea, a black column thundered through the forest. The Hashon Jahar moved at a gallop night and day, over hills and through valleys, untiring and unswerving in their course. They forded great rivers and leapt un-bridged ravines, barely slowing for obstacles, and delayed only when they found Lowmen to kill. The ones that had destroyed the tar town the chosen had encountered must have taken a course that led them past the city he had seen, but these were headed straight for it. If they were to rescue any chosen from the city, they would have to move fast.
Alighting on a branch, he watched the Riders thunder past while he pondered this quandary. The chosen were safe from the land now even if he left them, but not from the Hashon Jahar. They would be in grave danger, and they were too few to risk. Yet there would be chosen in the city who would perish if he did not free them.
&nb
sp; The Black Riders rode in rigid lines, four abreast, lances upright, staring ahead with blank, lifeless eyes. The horses' glossy hides rippled, and their nostrils flared with the effort of their gallop, but no sweat streaked their silken flanks. He ruffled his feathers. What he needed was to split himself in two, but even a Mujar could not do that. He would need Talsy to accompany him to the city, preferably with Kieran to protect her, for he could not set foot on the earth blood. They would have to find and free the chosen, but the Black Riders were a danger to them too, so he could not send them alone.
Chanter spread his wings and drifted aloft, his mind made up. There was little choice, his only option was to leave the chosen and take Talsy and Kieran to the city, but he would not leave them unprotected. On the flight back to the camp, he considered his options. Dolana was no use, he could not control it from the air, and he would have to be airborne over the city. Crayash was a fickle power, requiring a fair amount of control, and Ashmar was far too difficult to control from a distance. That left only Shissar, not a powerful defence, but the best option in the circumstances. He sailed into the sleeping camp and alighted on a branch, where he spent the rest of the night guarding the chosen.
Chapter Three
As dawn broke and the camp stirred, Chanter resumed his man shape and went in search of Talsy, finding her sharing a tent with Sheera at the edge of the camp. He noticed Kieran's bedroll spread close by with a smile, admiring the warrior's persistence in the face of the girl's hostility. Then again, he mused, he knew nothing about Lowman emotions or their strange mating rituals. He called Talsy, and she emerged sleepy-eyed and tousled, her clothes rumpled. She splashed her face with water from a skin, then followed him into the forest. Well away from the camp, he found a sunny glade still carpeted with mist and sheened with dew. He settled on a mossy log and gazed at her. The morning sun glinted on her hair, burnishing it.
Broken World Book Two - StarSword Page 3
