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A Place Among the Fallen [Book One of The Omaran Saga]

Page 31

by Adrian Cole


  'You mean us to walk?’

  'It will be safe. The repercussions of that struggle were far-reaching. Naar-Iarnoc unleashed terrible energies.’ Ratillic had already started to descend.

  Guile drew his sword uneasily, keeping close to Brannog as he followed. They reached the first of the wasted trees, and although they were strangely hued and packed closely together, it was possible to pass through them. In their shadowy avenues, the air was still and cool, rich with the smell of charred wood and smoke. The Earthwrought guarded the others closely, watching the trees, using their noses like hounds, though nothing stirred.

  Sisipher, who had barely recovered from the shock of realising that she had woken Naar-Iarnoc with some hidden power that she had not known about, only to hear his death cry ring out like thunder across the plateau, suddenly remembered Kirrikree and the birds. But there was no trace of them anywhere. She could, however, feel the hostility in the damaged growths about them, but sensed no movement in them. The crash of the colossal plant had spread a paralysing poison throughout this part of the plateau, but it could not last. Sisipher called for stillness, knowing that shapes were emerging from the trees. Three of them came slinking forward, but Ratillic held up his hand.

  'The wolves,’ he said, and a moment later the three great brutes came to him and he stroked them. They fell into place, growling deep in their throats, but no one spoke about them.

  A while later the group broke through the trees and found itself in a badly burnt area where everything had been turned into black ash. Before them the canyon opened. To their right it dropped away to expose the floor of the Silences. To their left it swept up through the plateau, its sides either smouldering or bare of growth, as if it had been cut by a blade still hot from the furnace. Ratillic seemed to be trying to find something with his senses, and eventually pointed to the abrupt slope beyond them.

  They climbed down carefully, up to their calves in places in warm ash, until they were on a bare rock slope. Beneath them they could see the wide road cut into the side of the canyon, unveiled by the great conflagration that had so quickly ravaged the plant life. Coming up the road from below them, tiny figures on its blackened surface, they could see Korbillian and the army. Guile could see Wargallow, Elberon and Ygromm, and wondered for a moment if Ilassa had fallen, but moments later noticed him. He rode on a horse behind someone else, and seemed to be clinging on as if he were wounded.

  22

  THE ROAD

  The sun hovered in the west, about to set. Circling high over the jungle, Kirrikree picked out from a great height the figures moving down the ash-streaked terrace towards the road below. He sent a gentle probe, anxious not to alert enemies, but in seconds realised Sisipher was down there. He dropped down and could now see Ratillic leading the party. As he swooped, he saw down the highway where the army advanced, and he flew on and over Korbillian and the leaders, sending word to Ygromm beside him that the others would soon meet them. He also gave a report to Ygromm, who passed it on to Korbillian.

  'Everywhere has gone silent,’ said Ygromm. ‘Kirrikree says to be most wary. The way to Xennidhum is open, but it is a trap. The city seems to be empty, but the Children of the Mound are far below, and their many servants will rise up to attack when they are ready. Already the owls have been assaulted, but there are few aerial servants of the Children, and those that were not ripped from the sky fled back into their holes below ground.’ Ygromm made no bones about the unpleasantness of the conflict.

  Twilight had begun its brief vigil of the plateau when Ratillic led his party to the road, a matter of minutes before Korbillian reached him. The two Hierophants conferred privately, watched by the hungry eyes of Ratillic's wolves. Ratillic could see that something disturbed Korbillian, as if he had received grim news.

  'Ilassa,’ said the huge man softly. ‘I fear that the power of the Earthwrought that healed him is being reversed in this place. I sought to get him back to Cyrene, but he has said that he has to go on or Strangarth's men will insist on remaining with him. I cannot blame them for their loyalty.’

  'Then you won't relinquish them?’ Ratillic said coldly.

  Korbillian frowned in anger. ‘You think I want anyone sacrificed?’

  'Why did you bring the girl? Oh, I know of her gift with the bird, and with the little folk, and the telling. But it was not that.’

  'But the telling—”

  'She sees many paths. All contain fears, terrors even. Better not to look along them and be dismayed. Do they guide us?’

  'Perhaps.’

  Ratillic considered for a moment. He had to probe Korbillian's motives. There were still so many doubts. ‘On the summit, she saw the Mound.’ He told Korbillian about the vision of the hands, the five that were to be lost. ‘Is that not how you would interpret this? Five of us.’

  The news had unsettled Korbillian. ‘If our old friend, Nadorn were here, he would unravel it. But it is foolish of us to do the work better suited to a Hierophant versed in prescience.’

  'I agree. Hence I wonder about the profit in bringing this girl. At least, I did, until it became clear that she has other powers. You knew she could summon?’

  'Summon? Then Ygromm was right. No, I had no foreknowledge.’

  Ratillic snorted. ‘Deceived. The Hierarchs are behind this!’

  'I did not know that Naar-Iarnoc was beneath the sand. Just like the power placed within me, it rose when it was needed.’

  Ratillic shook his head. ‘This entire expedition is founded on a base of sand.’

  'What do you mean?’

  'Consider: Guile seeks an empire and cares little for your cause, seeking no more than a share of your power. Elberon certainly has no wish to be here. Wargallow is little better. The youth, Wolgren, is here because of the girl.’

  'And you suspect me?’

  'Of what should I suspect you?’

  'Some ulterior motive? Greed for power? You think I wanted this curse?’

  'Probably not. I just wonder to what extent you have been cursed, as you put it. But you understand what faces us. Have you made it clear to these people? That they have little chance of surviving?’

  Korbillian controlled his anger. ‘I accept responsibility for them, but this is their world. What are you saying, that I am using them?’

  'Send them back,’ said Ratillic. ‘Let you and I go on alone. Let Kirrikree guide us.’

  'Send them back!’ repeated Korbillian. ‘Throw aside their combined power?’

  'What is it compared to the raising of storms, the searing of the jungle, the sealing of the Opening?’

  'But you saw what the girl can do—”

  'So you think the others have powers that have been hidden from you?’

  'I don't understand.’

  'Perhaps you are being used,’ said Ratillic, and at that moment his eyes were as penetrating as the eyes of his restless wolves. ‘How much of the Hierarch's power do you understand? How much are you depending on instinct? Are you master of your borrowed power, Korbillian, or are you its instrument?’

  Ratillic's words filled Korbillian with fear. He looked up at the rapidly darkening road ahead as if it were filled with fresh horrors. ‘You think that?’ he said quietly.

  Ratillic's gaze softened. ‘I know you for an honest man. I know you are not moved by greed. But you should beware.’

  Korbillian's anger had gone. Ratillic meant to be fair, no more.

  'Are we to camp here, or move on?’ said the latter, and the conversation was at an end.

  The army travelled on, and the men were glad to move as far up the canyon as they could. The road remained broad, testament to the one time greatness of the city beyond. The walls of the canyon narrowed, but became less towering, less oppressive. On their rims the tree lines were broken now. Nothing moved, but the feeling of being observed intensified. They felt as though they were crawling across the body of some mythological monster rather than the earth of their world. It was agreed to camp under
the walls of the canyon and climb the stairway that Kirrikree had described as being cut from the end of the canyon, at first light. Not far from the great stair, the army gathered itself in and waited.

  Sisipher was concerned for Ilassa, watching him with Ygromm. The Earthwrought studied the man's pain as though he were responsible for it.

  Ilassa, shivering in the half-light, managed a smile at the girl. ‘Poor Taroc fell a victim to the earth power,’ he said. ‘In this grim place it seems it turns within me.’

  'We must begin a fresh working,’ said Ygromm, but in his heart he knew that the creeping darkness would not release the man. There was no power here that would give him surcease.

  'No, my friend,’ said Ilassa. ‘Save your strength for the city.’

  'You should go back,’ Sisipher told him, scowling up at the shadowed stairway cut from the end of the canyon.

  Ilassa shook his head. ‘Back? No. Get me to the city, girl, and my men will follow. I have a score to settle up there. For Taroc, eh?’ He subsided, and already his bones were weakening, softening, so that in the darkness he seemed twisted, crippled, as he would have been by his fall from Swiftwater Bridge.

  Sisipher left him, afraid she would weep for him if she remained and that perhaps it would shame him. She wanted to be alone for a moment, but it was far too dangerous here. Kirrikree fluttered near her, and she wondered why she should deserve his protection.

  'There is a place beside the road,’ he said. ‘You will be safe. We watch over you.’

  Sisipher passed through the broken stone balustrade of the road and went down the gentle slope beyond, sitting in a pool of moonlight. She could not see, but sensed the owls not far from her. On the road, guards walked quietly up and down, but in the motionless forest below her there was nothing, no hint of life. Naar-Iarnoc had given his life to ensure the destruction of an awesome part of the plateau's power.

  'You are no longer alone,’ Kirrikree's voice whispered and she turned to face the intruder on her privacy. It was Guile.

  'Your pardon,’ he said as she rose. ‘I did not mean to disturb your thoughts.’ She did not reply, so he went on quickly. ‘I was concerned for Ilassa.’

  'Is he worse?’ she said, showing her fear.

  'I only know that he is ill. What has happened?’

  'A wound, perhaps,’ she said guardedly, and went to pass him.

  He caught her arm gently. ‘I think not,’ he said. As he had moved, Kirrikree swept low overhead. Guile ducked instinctively, watching the darkness, but he did not let the girl go. There was something alien behind his gaze, his scowl contorted, as if shaped by a deep malevolence.

  'What do you want?’ she hissed impatiently.

  'The truth. Is he dying?’

  After a while she nodded. ‘I think so.’

  'And who else is to die with him?’ he whispered.

  Kirrikree again flew overhead, and Guile had to duck as the claws came dangerously close to his scalp.

  'What are you saying?’ she gasped.

  'The five! You saw five die—”

  Something gripped Guile's shoulder and he was swung round so that he lost his balance. As he looked up, Wolgren came from the shadows, a knife raised, his own face a mask of hatred. Guile stumbled away, but Wolgren was after him.

  'Wolgren, no!’ Sisipher called, but still she kept her voice low. There was no need for conflict between them; there would be enough problems in Xennidhum.

  'I should finish him here,’ the youth snorted, his knife poised.

  Guile was on one knee, fumbling for his sword. He thought of shouting for Elberon's men, but if he did he would be charged with molesting the girl. Surely this could be settled quickly and sensibly. Kirrikree swept down and this time his claws brushed Wolgren's arm. The youth was taken by surprise and inadvertently leapt forward into Guile, and the two of them tumbled to the ground, rolling down the steepening slope.

  Sisipher rushed to its edge, shocked by the ludicrous turn of events. The two figures had toppled further towards the trees. She could hear them grunting and knew they must be grappling with each other like children. ‘Stop!’ she hissed at them. As she scrambled down the slope, she was aware of other shapes emerging from the darkness, drawn by the scuffle. For a moment terror rushed at her until she realised that it was Ygromm's folk.

  When she was able to see the two figures below, only one of them stirred. Guile was extricating himself from Wolgren's twisted frame, and in his hand was his sword. He looked vaguely bewildered, his whole manner changed.

  'What has happened?’ Sisipher cried hesitantly, coming closer.

  'The fool!’ Guile snarled. ‘He attacked me—” He stopped, noticing that Wolgren had not moved. ‘Wolgren!’ he gasped, bending to him, but keeping his sword point poised to strike. Suddenly the Earthwrought rushed in. They pulled Guile to the ground, pinning him and wrenching the sword from him. Sisipher stood over Wolgren, then shook him. She touched his chest and her hands came away bloody.

  'Wolgren!’

  Kirrikree, confused by what had happened, flew down beside her, alighting on the ground. ‘I thought he meant to kill Guile. There was a kind of madness on him.’

  'He's dead,’ Sisipher whispered. Already two of the Earthwrought were listening for the youth's heartbeat, but they sat back grimly, affirming the girl's words. There came a rush of movement above them on the slope. Morric Elberon and several of his guards stood there.

  'What's happening?’ Elberon growled.

  'Morric!’ called Guile, still gripped hard. ‘Get them off me!’

  Elberon came down the slope cautiously.

  One of the Earthwrought turned to Sisipher, and the moonlight traced a gleam of tears down each of her cheeks. This could not have happened! It must be a mistake, a dream.

  'An accident!’ cried Guile. ‘You can't let them kill me. Tell them to free me at once!’

  Elberon made to climb down, but Sisipher stopped him with a gesture. ‘One move,’ she said. ‘One step further, and your precious heir to the throne dies.’

  Elberon kept absolutely still. ‘But why?’

  Sisipher turned back to Guile. ‘You killed him,’ she said, surprised by the venom in her voice. But she felt again his hand upon her and it goaded her anger. ‘You say by accident, but that's a lie! You wanted him dead.’

  He shook his head wildly. ‘I never meant to kill him. You can't think that! What do you want of me? Haven't we shared enough horror on this accursed journey?’

  Sisipher felt the anger brimming up within her, trying to check it, but could not. Like a fire, it fed on something combustible in the atmosphere of this haunted place. ‘Shared? With you?’

  Kirrikree's voice pierced her fury. ‘The boy had a knife. Guile had to defend himself.’

  'Listen!’ gasped Guile, sensing that he was going to die. He heard himself gabbling, as if watching from a distance. ‘What do you gain by killing me? There is so much you can have if you spare me. Think of it, Sisipher. I am to be Emperor. Emperor! And you could sit beside me. Think of that.’

  Elberon stiffened, appalled by Guile's lack of nerve. Sisipher let Guile go on speaking.

  'Spare me! It was an accident. Come back to the Chain when this is over and sit with me. Bring Brannog—I will make him a commander.’

  Elberon felt his fists balling. This was absurd! What was the man trying to do? Had he murdered the boy out of jealousy? Elberon knew that Guile had been looking keenly at the girl; it was not something a man could easily disguise. They both knew that Wolgren worshipped her, but Elberon could not credit that Guile would kill him as a rival.

  Sisipher was walking towards Guile. Still the Earthwrought waited, apparently quite prepared to kill. The girl looked up at Elberon. ‘Well?’ she said to him, and the word was like a directed blade.

  He did not move, but his eyes were cold. The very air closed in, hungrily breathing the tension, thriving on its anger and deceits.

  'Release him,’ said Sisipher sudden
ly to the Earthwrought. They obeyed at once. Guile struggled to his feet indignantly and made to approach Sisipher, but the look on her face deterred him.

  'Keep your kingdom,’ she said. ‘I want nothing from you.’ She turned away and pointed to Wolgren's body. The Earthwrought gathered round it.

  Guile made his way up to Elberon, who stared past him at the hidden trees below. His gaze would not meet Guile's and the latter was forced to walk past him and on up to the road, shaking his head as if dizzy.

  In a moment Korbillian appeared at Elberon's shoulder. ‘This is an evil place,’ he said.

  'You saw?’ said Elberon bitterly.

  'At the end. That was not Guile speaking.’

  But Elberon shook his head. ‘Make no excuses. I knew he was no fighting man. I accepted him as an administrator, capable of righting his cousin's ailing empire. But this—”

  'The evil here twists like a knife in us all. And it will turn us upon each other if we allow it to.’

  'Then let us hasten to dispatch it,’ grunted the warlord, and he turned away.

  Korbillian cursed under his breath. The change in Elberon was most marked. If his men saw it, it would damage morale. He went down to Sisipher, seeing the tears in her eyes. ‘He is dead?’ he said.

  She nodded. ‘Too late to save him. And here, it could not have been done.’

  'I have further ill news.’

  She whirled on him, but his terrible face kept her silent.

  'Ilassa,’ he breathed.

  'What must we do? We cannot place either of them in this earth.’

  He shook his head, thinking of Taroc. ‘A pyre. Only fire can purify them.’ He left her to her sorrow and climbed the hill. Brannog and Wargallow stood there, grim as menhirs.

  'An accident,’ Korbillian told them both. ‘The boy is dead. Guile is not to be blamed. His fear makes him an easy vessel.’

  Brannog groaned as though a blade had been put into his own flesh. ‘Ah, not the boy! Not the boy.’ He went down to his daughter at once. Wargallow watched him descend.

  'We cannot remain here,’ he told Korbillian. ‘The air chokes us with its evil. I fear mayhem. No one will sleep.’

 

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