Shards of Time

by Lynn Flewelling

  Alec stretched out on Thero’s cot for a few hours of sleep and woke a little after midday to find Mika trying to struggle one-handed into his breeches.

  “Hold on there. You’re not supposed to be out of bed, are you?” Alec asked with a yawn.

  “Nobody said,” the boy replied, trying to untangle the uncooperative garment from the long tails of his shirt.

  “Are you sure?” More likely no one thought he would try to get up.

  “Can we play games if I stay on the cot?”

  Bakshi was not the sort of game easily played in bed, so Alec fetched a deck of cards from his tent and taught Mika Blue Goose, then Bell and Trumpet, resisting all wheedling to teach him how to cheat at them. Soon, however, Mika was restless and hungry, so Alec helped him dress, settling his broken arm carefully in its sling, and they went in search of something to eat. The fog had burned off and the afternoon was clear and pleasantly warm.

  “Are you sure you’re well enough to walk about?” Alec asked as they made their way to the cooking area.

  “I’m all right,” Mika assured him, clearly happy to be out and about. “The drysian took good care of me. I just can’t use my arm. I know where to get food, though. One of the cooks likes me.”

  Mika led him to one of the booths, where the cook made a fuss over them and saw to it that they had bowls of lamb stew and bread. Alec carried Mika’s bowl for him over to a place on the trampled grass by the large central fire. He set the bowl down in front of the boy and Mika was able to eat one-handed.

  When they were finished, they found themselves at loose ends.

  “How about you showing me where those people attacked you?” asked Alec.

  “My friend didn’t attack me,” Mika reminded him. “He got hurt, too, but he helped me get away.” He paused, clearly conflicted. “Master Thero didn’t say whether I could leave the camp.”

  Alec gave him a wink. “It’s all right if you’re with me. I have my sword, just in case.”

  Together they walked down the road to the river. The sun was bright, making the snowy peak of Mount Erali glow against the blue sky.

  Mika brought him back to the large rock. “This is where I met my friend.”

  “Show me where you played.”

  They walked down the riverbank for half a mile or so, with Mika pointing out where they’d caught crayfish, and where he and his friend had wrestled in the river.

  “Are you sure you came down this far?” asked Alec. “I don’t see any footprints here and the ground is soft.”

  “Yes. Maybe the river washed them away?”

  Alec wondered again if Mika had dreamed the mysterious strangers. There was simply no sign of anyone having come this way.

  After that they climbed the rise where the assailant had appeared and gazed out across the rolling, boulder-strewn grassland. There were no houses visible, but there was a flock of sheep a mile or so away, and beyond that the low grassy hills rose like waves above the plain. Alec stood for a moment with one arm around Mika’s thin shoulders, his other hand resting on his sword hilt, willing the bully to show himself.

  “Those boys you encountered were probably shepherds from over there,” Alec said. “The younger one must have snuck away to play, and the other one came after him.”

  “Maybe that’s why he was so angry.”

  They returned to the tent to find Seregil had come back from Menosi alone.

  “Thero and Micum are questioning more of the guards about recent ghostly activity and disappearances,” he told them. “I don’t remember Thero saying you could get out of bed, Mika.”

  “I’m fine, really,” the boy assured him. “I just took Alec down to the river. He said it would be all right.”

  “I did,” said Alec. “And I wouldn’t have taken him if I didn’t think he was well enough. Children heal faster than adults. I always did.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” said Seregil. “What did you find?”

  “Mika showed me where he thought he’d gone, but there were no footprints much beyond the rock where Thero found him. We did see some sheep off in the distance, though, which would explain where the strangers came from. It might be worth a look.”

  Seregil glanced out the tent flap. “There’s daylight enough left. Mika, you’d better stay here in the tent, until we get back. I mean it, no wandering off or Master Thero will be upset with all of us.”

  “I promise, Seregil.”

  “Good.”

  “Now, tell us all you can remember about what the boy and the man looked like.”

  “The boy is about my size, with brown eyes and hair and he’s brown from the sun. The man—” Mika’s brows drew together in concentration. “I don’t remember as much about him, except he was really angry and had a cudgel. I guess he sort of looked like the boy but grown up. You’ll know my friend though; he can’t talk.”

  “That will help,” Seregil replied with a smile. “Behave yourself. If you need anything, ask someone to bring it to you.”

  Alec and Seregil rode out with Sergeant Oris and six soldiers, stopping first by the rock where Mika had first encountered the other boys. Seregil walked up and down the bank, looking for signs Alec might have missed, but shook his head.

  “Maybe he did dream it,” said Alec.

  “I don’t think so. The way he described the people he met and what he did was too detailed.” He walked down to the bank, squatted down by the water’s edge, and began turning over stones. Sure enough, after a moment he held up a little crawfish, its tiny claws flailing. “He didn’t dream these.”

  He mounted Cynril again and they galloped across country toward the large flock Alec and Mika had seen.

  The new spring grass and bobbing wildflowers of various shades rippled under the caress of a light breeze that carried the scent of new herbs. Bare patches and dried sheep patties showed where the sheep had already been.

  Four boys and several dogs were guarding the sheep. Two shaggy island ponies were tethered to a few bushes near a fire pit.

  The dogs began to bark but the shepherds called them in and came to greet Alec and the others as they reined to a halt at the edge of the flock.

  The boys—all brown-eyed and tan and dressed in rough, dirty shirts and leggings—ranged from about Mika’s age to a gawky teenager with bad skin who stepped forward as the leader. The youth greeted them in Plenimaran, clearly worried at the sight of the armed soldiers.

  Alec asked the youth in Plenimaran, “Are you the only …” He didn’t known the word for “shepherd.”

  “Sagma,” Seregil finished for him.

  “Yes, are you the only shepherds out here?”

  “We are,” the youth replied. “I’m Nothir and these are my brothers. Why do you bring soldiers here?”

  “We are looking for a man who attacked one of our friends, and a boy about that size,” he explained, pointing to the youngest. “The boy is a mute.”

  Nothir shook his head. “No, sir. Don’t know of any mute.”

  “Do you speak any other language than Plenimaran?”

  The youth looked down at his feet, saying nothing, but the answer was clear.

  “Please, you won’t be in any trouble,” Alec told him.

  “It’s not allowed,” Nothir explained.

  “By whom?”

  “Them that live in Deep Harbor.”

  “You mean the Plenimarans who ruled here? They’re gone now. You can speak as you like.”

  “What language do you speak?” asked Seregil.

  The youth shrugged. “We just call it the grandmother’s tongue.”

  “Could you speak a bit of it to me, please? There’s no need to be afraid,” Seregil assured him.

  “Don’t do it, Noth,” the second oldest muttered.

  “Really, it’s all right,” said Alec.

  Nothir let out a breath. “Very well. Saugas melistook rak solis, mekir. That means ‘It’s a nice day today, man.’ ”

  Seregil raised a brow at that
. “It’s some form of Middle Konic! The pronunciation is a bit blurred, but it’s unmistakable.” Turning to the youth, he said, “Eah salma wodi megak, Nothir.”

  The boys went wide-eyed for a moment, then the younger ones began to laugh. Nothir quickly shushed them and said something to Seregil in his own language. Seregil laughed in turn.

  “What’s going on?” Alec demanded impatiently.

  “I said I was glad to meet him, and he says he’s glad to meet me, too, even if I do speak like my tongue’s been split.”

  Seregil spoke at length with the boys, then looked to Alec and shrugged. “None of them recognizes my description of the boys Mika saw.”

  “Ask him if there are any towns near here,” said Alec.

  Seregil spoke again, and one by one the boys shook their heads. The little one said something that sounded scared and the others nodded, then the next-to-oldest added something else, to which Nothir made a cutting motion with his hand.

  “There’s one near here, back in the hills east of Menosi,” Seregil explained. “This boy, Agus, says he’ll guide us there if we pay him, but he won’t go in. Nothir doesn’t want him to go.”

  “Try telling him you’re a great lord and the rest of us are warriors. No harm will come to Agus,” said Alec.

  Seregil translated that. Nothir and Agus turned away and spoke with their heads together. Nothir seemed angry, but the other boy carried the day, for he turned to Seregil and nodded, saying something.

  “He’ll take us now, while there’s still daylight, but once he’s gotten us there, he’s coming straight back,” said Seregil.

  “Fair enough. How much does he want?”

  Seregil asked and the boy named his price, pointing to Nothir. Seregil took half a dozen silver sesters from his purse and gave them to the youth. “He wants to make sure his family has the money, in case he doesn’t come back.”

  “Must be a rough town,” one of the soldiers said with a laugh.

  “What’s it called?” asked Alec.

  Agus shrugged and fetched his pony. He led the way, and they rode across the plain to the base of a rough, stony rise several miles on with a dry riverbed meandering near the bottom. The bed was filled with rounded stones covered in moss and weeds.

  The boy pointed west and said something.

  “He says Menosi is over this rise,” Seregil explained.

  There was no sign of a path, but the bank was level and they rode upstream until they reached the crumbling remains of a good-sized town on a small rise facing over the river, its back to the ridge and Menosi.

  “That’s the town?” Alec exclaimed in dismay. Some house walls were still standing among the foundations of buildings long gone. Ravens had made the place their own. Dozens of them lined the broken walls and watched their approach with wary black eyes, muttering and croaking among themselves, but didn’t take flight. It was eerie. The breeze was stronger here, and sighed through the wreckage like a mourner. It reminded him a bit of the sighs they’d heard in the lower cave.

  As soon as they started up the hill toward it, Agus turned his pony and galloped off like ghosts and demons were already chasing him.

  “Looks like you wasted good silver, my lord,” Oris said, shaking his head. “No one’s lived here in two hundred years!”

  “More than that,” murmured Seregil.

  “No wonder the other boys didn’t want him to come here,” said Alec.

  They rode slowly into the ruins and fanned out to make a thorough search of the place.

  Alec and Seregil made their way through what had once been narrow streets. They were little more than debris-strewn paths, now overgrown with thistles and vetch. Here and there snakes lay basking in the late-afternoon sun. There were many poisonous ones on the island, Zella had warned, and so they gave the ones they saw a wide berth. Most of the houses were little more than foundations.

  “What happened to this place?” Alec wondered.

  “Abandoned, and the stones most likely carried off by other builders,” Seregil noted as he dismounted and stepped into one of the foundations. “I daresay you’ll find most of them in Menosi or Deep Harbor. Builders don’t let dressed stone go to waste.” He walked around the foundation, nudging things with the toe of his boot. “This was a simple dwelling. You can still see traces of a central hearth. There must have been a smoke hole in the roof.”

  “How old do you think this place is?”

  “Well, it’s clearly been abandoned for centuries. No way to know how old it was before that.”

  They continued on, working their way toward what proved to be an enormous open space at the west end of town, closest to the ridge. The streets and buildings simply ended around the circumference of an enormous span of barren ground. There were no foundations, no walls or broken stone, not even any weeds. Walking across it, Alec saw that it was just hard-packed clay and gravel.

  “It’s round,” Seregil called to him.

  Turning, Alec saw him striding around the circumference of it with his hands clasped behind his back. “I think it’s a nearly perfect circle and most of the major streets end at its edges. It must have been some sort of ritual space, or a large market.”

  “No sign of any temple or altar.”

  “I wonder if they played some kind of game here?” Seregil touched the ground and licked his finger. “Salt. Odd.”

  Just then they heard cries from nearby and ran to see what was wrong.

  Sergeant Oris and two of his riders stood over a round hole, talking excitedly.

  “Fetch a rope,” Oris ordered and one of his riders ran to get it.

  “What happened?” asked Alec.

  “Talan fell down this dry well,” he told him. “We were walking along, then I heard the sound of cracking wood and he was gone. There must have been a cover over it that he didn’t see under the weeds.”

  “Is he hurt?” asked Seregil.

  “See for yourself, my lords.”

  Leaning over the edge, they saw the rider looking sightlessly up at them, impaled through the back on several rusty iron spikes.

  “Sakor’s Flame!” one of the female riders gasped, then began to cry. One of her fellows put an arm around her and led her aside.

  “What in Bilairy’s name is this man trap doing in a deserted town?” wondered Alec.

  “I suppose it must have been one of the protections of the town when it was—” Seregil began, but another scream from the direction of the tower cut him off.

  Moving with considerably more caution now, they all followed the continuing sounds of the cries to where another of Oris’s men lay on the ground thrashing and crying out in agony, his face a ghastly purple and grotesquely swollen on one side. A male soldier knelt helplessly beside him while a woman struck at a nearby patch of tall weeds with her sword.

  “It was some kind of huge viper, my lords,” the man said. “Matlin dropped something near those weeds and when he reached to pick it up it bit him on the face!”

  With a snarl of disgust, the woman who’d been beating the weeds used the tip of her sword to lift out a long section of severed snake. More than two feet long, it was mottled red and black with a bright yellow belly. She poked into the weeds again and brought out the other half, nearly as long, but minus the head.

  “The damn thing kept trying to bite me even after I cut it in half,” she said with a grimace. She flicked the tip of her sword in the weeds, and the head rolled out. The mouth was open, showing fangs nearly two inches long.

  “Rock viper,” said Seregil. “It’s the largest, most dangerous serpent on the island.”

  Alec looked around nervously at the piles of rocks and stands of weeds; it was perfect cover for snakes.

  Matlin began to wheeze and choke. The others could only watch helplessly as he gagged up bloody foam and died.

  “Maker’s Mercy!” Alec gasped. “No wonder that boy didn’t want to come in here.”

  The sergeant caught up with them. “Raneus, Yola, you
wrap him in his cloak and get him onto his horse. Then we have to find some way to get poor Talan out of that hole without anyone else getting killed.” He turned to Seregil. “Begging your pardon, but I think we’ve seen enough of this place, my lords. We’re losing daylight fast.”

  “Yes,” said Alec. “I’m sorry about your men.”

  Oris spared him a grim look, then shouted his remaining riders into formation and they galloped for the camp.

  They found Mika dozing on his cot. He woke as they came in, though, and looked relieved. “I was starting to worry about you.”

  Alec smiled. “Thanks for your concern, but we just had a long ride and saw the countryside, nothing more.” This was not the time to mention deaths and snakes.

  “Did you find my friend?” asked Mika.

  “No, we saw no sign of him.”

  Tears welled in Mika’s eyes. “I hope the older boy didn’t kill him. I wish I knew his name, at least. Then we could ask after him.”

  “I hope he’s well, too.” Alec ruffled the boy’s hair gently. “I suppose it’s not very interesting here for you, with no one your own age.”

  “When can I go exploring with you and Master Thero? The drysian tended my arm twice today and it feels much better!”

  “That’s up to Thero.”

  Mika nodded, but his lower lip began to quiver. A tear slid down his cheek and he hastily dashed it away with his hand. “I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble.”

  Seregil rested a hand on Mika’s shoulder. “That’s enough now. No need for tears. Rest some more, and I’ll put in a good word for you with Thero when he gets back.”

  KLIA had never been so disoriented in her life. Casting around, she could not find her way back to the river. The ground showed no hoofprints to indicate which direction she’d come from. The sky, which had been clear, was heavily veiled in grey clouds, making it impossible to say for certain where the sun was. The light had a strange dull glow, almost like a foggy day, but the air was clear—for all the good that did.