Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series

by E. M. Sinclair

  The sun was halfway to setting by the time he felt strong enough to walk to Return without stumbling. A short way down the trail from his tower to the main track, was a pile of grey ash. He only glanced at it, failing to notice the end of a knife hilt protruding slightly from the ash.

  When he reached Hargon’s manor, he went to his chamber, washed, slipped a robe over his shoulders and made his way to the dining hall. Two other men were with Hargon and Navan, and they were introduced to Rhaki as Zalom of Andla and his Arms Chief Niram. Hargon explained that the Lords of Far and Tagria would be arriving in a few days – Seboth was concerned about an increase in the activities of Gangers along the main routes to the Middle Plains once more.

  Rhaki found the introductions boring and the ensuing conversation equally so. He scarcely made any attempt to conceal his disinterest and excused himself immediately he’d finished his food. A servant hurried to catch up with him as he reached the stairs.

  ‘This message came for you Sir Lord. A man left it with the gate guard. He said he will ask at the gate each morning and evening should you be gracious enough to reply.’

  Bowing, the servant held out a small scroll. Rhaki took it, frowning. Who would write a message to him in this forsaken land, where, it seemed, most of the inhabitants were unable to write anyway? He went on to his chamber and opened the scroll as he sat on the edge of his bed. He scanned the strangely formed but readable letters quickly, then began at the beginning again.

  It was signed clearly by ‘Serim’. Serim described briefly how he had lived inside the mountains that Rhaki had believed to be his Realm alone. How his race had chosen to join with the Gaharnians and how he, Serim, felt this to be wrong. He offered what service he could to the Lord Rhaki, true Guardian of the Realm of Ice, and awaited an answer to his offer.

  Rhaki rubbed his chin. He felt no untruth from this scroll, no trap, or devious undercurrent. He went to the dark window and thought. He rang the bell cord and a servant rapped softly at the door almost at once.

  ‘A man will ask at the gate for a reply from myself in the morning. Have him told the direction to my building and tell him to be there at midday.’

  Rhaki shut the door on the still bowing servant. He would see what this Serim had to offer, anyway.

  Moments after Rhaki had left the dining hall, Fryss asked permission to enter. He saluted the men at the table.

  ‘Sir, another armsman is killed.’

  As Hargon scowled, Navan asked quickly: ‘The same as the other two?’

  Zalom sat back while his Arms Chief leaned forward eagerly listening. Fryss nodded.

  ‘The man partnering him saw and heard nothing Sir. He had been at the opposite side of the area. When Lord Rhaki left the building work to walk here, my armsman went to join his fellow. He found a pile of ashes, and this.’

  Fryss gently placed a knife on the table – standard issue for Return armsmen.

  Niram touched the knife with a fingertip.

  ‘Sir? You say he has reduced three men to dust now, but each time their knives remain intact? Have you tested these knives? Have they been altered? I mean are they blunted, brittle, useless – or unchanged?’

  Hargon looked at Navan, who shook his head.

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  Zalom coughed before saying: ‘So if they are unchanged, the Lord’s power would seem to have no effect on metal weapons. And thus we have uncovered one weakness at least.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Lorak and Mim were in the lower levels of the stronghold where, not so long ago, Rhaki had penned the Cansharsi. Now, the chambers were being inspected for possible use as crop growing areas, as in the Domain of Asat. Four Delvers were with Lorak and Mim and the Snow Dragon, Talli. Mim was using his power to test the thickness of the outer mountain wall, and the Delvers were trying to sense for the strange warm waters that flowed beneath their Domain and thus, logically, beneath this side of the mountain range also.

  Lorak was pacing out the size of the largest cavern with Bikram, the Delver expert from Arak. Torim, remembering how complicated Mim and Lorak’s questioning had been when he’d shown them his settlement’s cultivated areas, had prudently thought to beg Bikram to join him on this visit to the stronghold.

  Mim left the lower levels to ask Ashta and Fenj to fly outside, to see if they were able to break through the rock wall. Jeela joined Talli below, one each side of the section hopefully to be breached. The Dragons were bespeaking each other to confirm the line along which Ashta and Fenj would direct their fire. Lorak and Bikram stood near the two small Dragons and waited.

  ‘Now they begin,’ Lorak said, resting a hand on Jeela’s back.

  ‘Yes, we wait to see if they can weaken the rock enough. We cannot use our fire while Ashta and Fenj are so close to the mountain.’ Jeela replied.

  Gradually a creaking, cracking sound reached those inside. Fenj spoke in their minds.

  ‘We have shattered rock, enough for my body to lie in. I think we will lift to the entrance and let Jeela and Talli use fire from inside. Gently mind, and only briefly.’

  They waited to give Fenj and Ashta time to move to a safe distance and then Jeela and Talli belched fire at the rock. The Delvers stepped back as the rock glowed red then white with heat.

  ‘Stop!’ Lorak called.

  The air had a metallic taste and smell to it as the rock cooled rapidly. With its cooling, cracks rattled across and down, through which fresh air gusted. Bikram went closer, peering at the rockface.

  ‘It’s enough Lorak,’ he said aloud, as Talli bespoke Fenj with the same news. ‘It will be easy enough to cut out what is needed here.’

  Lorak took off his battered old hat, slapped it on his arm then gleefully rammed it back on his head.

  ‘A small celebration,’ he said, producing a leather flask.

  Bikram’s grey eyes lit up. ‘You must teach me this beverage making, Lorak.’

  ‘All in good time,’ Lorak chuckled.

  When they’d climbed back up to the great hall, Fenj eyed Lorak knowingly.

  ‘A celebration, Lord Fenj,’ said Lorak. ‘You did a very good job on the rockface.’

  ‘Splendid creature,’ Fenj rumbled. ‘Lula might like a sip.’

  The tiny Kephi daintily licked a drop of the liquid from Lorak’s finger and backed hastily away, sneezing and spitting. She sat dividing a furious glare between Lorak and Fenj.

  ‘That is not suitable for Kephis,’ she began, but hiccoughed before she’d finished.

  At Lorak’s roar of laughter, she turned her back, her minute body shaken by periodic burps. Lorak drew Bikram into his workroom, leaving Fenj to coax and wheedle Lula into a friendlier mood again. Mim entered Lorak’s workroom having been down to check how effective the Dragons’ fire had been.

  ‘Now all we have to do is get soil,’ he grinned as he dropped onto the short bench beside Bikram.

  ‘There are specialists in Alaf settlement who can organise the disposal of waste matter from the stronghold. That helps, but you will have to get quite a lot of soil brought in here.’

  ‘Alaf?’ Mim asked.

  ‘I don’t think you visited Alaf, it is a lower settlement.’ Bikram waved expansively, an eye on Lorak’s flask.

  The flask disappeared as Lorak grunted. ‘I suppose your soil came from the Wilderness?’

  Bikram nodded. ‘There may be entrances low enough this side of the mountains where suitable soil could be reached. Otherwise, it will have to come from beyond the entrances far south, or the Wilderness.’ He shrugged. ‘It would take about the same time to get it either way.’

  ‘I do not find the taste of plants pleasing,’ Fenj observed from the doorway. ‘I do not understand then, why Lorak of the Garden’s beverages, made from plants, is so extraordinarily pleasing.’

  Mim, Lorak and Bikram stared silently at the great black Dragon for a while, then returned to their planning.

  Kera sat with Mim at supper that evening, taken by all at the
long table in the hall. He told her what had been done to start a plant-growing place, and explained they now had to arrange for soil to be hauled in. Kera listened closely.

  ‘Malesh is examining the cultivated place in Akan. He says from what he has seen, and some of their explanations, the Delvers have advanced ideas of engineering and irrigation as well as the selective breeding of plants to obtain the best crops they can in such unnatural conditions.’

  Mim nodded, his scaled cheeks glinting in the firelight.

  ‘There are a few things I have told them to try – we will have to get plant roots and seeds from the south. Some even from Nagum woodlands perhaps. Most of their crops I nearly recognise, but they have changed them, over all the cycles of living here.’

  ‘Their discovery of the hot springs would have helped them tremendously. I wonder if the Dragons knew of them, or if the Delvers discovered them themselves?’ Kera pondered aloud, scribbling on a scrap of paper as she did so.

  Mim grinned at her.

  ‘I know,’ she laughed. ‘I’ve heard myself referred to as Lady Writing Stick!’

  Ashta nudged Kera gently. ‘They mean it kindly, Lady Kera.’

  ‘I know that also, dear one.’ Kera hesitated. ‘Do you miss Tika and Farn terribly?’

  She was immediately aware of the link tightening between the slim youth and the pale green Dragon.

  Ashta answered the question simply. ‘Yes Lady. We fear for them.’ She rattled her wings and Mim slid his arm round her shoulders.

  ‘We feel we are safe here Kera,’ Mim said. ‘And yet they have had to go into danger.’ He bit his lip, on the verge of saying more.

  ‘And what has Dessi to do with this?’ Kera asked.

  As Mim and Ashta both stared at her she smiled sadly. ‘The People may have acted foolishly of late, but I am not a fool. Dessi has been shut in her chamber for days. What is she doing?’

  Again, Ashta spoke first. ‘She was protecting them from the ice wind Lady. She was teaching herself how to do it, even as she did it. It has taken all her strength but they all reached Gaharn yesterday before dark.’

  ‘What?’ Kera was on her feet. ‘That child? Who is tending her? Why didn’t you tell me? Send a healer after me – at once.’

  And she was striding to the slope leading to the upper levels.

  ‘You had best find a healer, my Mim.’ Ashta said nervously.

  He hugged her quickly and rushed off to do just that.

  Kera opened the door to Dessi’s quarters, afraid of what she might find. For a second, she thought the room was empty, then a slight movement among the heaped pillows sent her to her knees at Dessi’s side. Gently, Kera straightened the tiny figure from the tight ball into which she had curled herself. Her clothes were damp with sweat, her eyes too tightly closed for her to be asleep, and her face was grey.

  ‘Dessi.’ Kera spoke clearly. ‘I’m going to get you into a dry gown and lift you to the bed. I will try not to hurt you dear one.’

  A hand groped towards her and Kera squeezed it gently. ‘A moment,’ she said.

  Kera sat back on her heels and looked round the chamber. The edge of a gown hung out from beneath the bed covers and she went to pull it free, picking up a towel from the wash stand as she passed. She was easing the gown over Dessi’s head when she heard voices outside in the passage. Then the door opened and closed. Nesh, the Gaharnian healer who’d come north in Kera’s party, knelt beside her, his long fingers resting on Dessi’s temple.

  ‘She’s taken too much power Kera, the web of her mind is fractured.’

  Kera lifted Dessi easily and Nesh pulled the covers back as Dessi was laid on the bed. The small hand waved helplessly again and Kera caught it in hers. The Delver’s eyelids had stayed tightly clenched.

  ‘Dessi,’ Nesh said softly. ‘I must enter your mind to try to heal the web. When it is done, you must drink water and eat some fruit or bread before you sleep. You must do this, you understand. I can mend the damage but the pain will remain – that is relieved by feeding your body. Hold my hand now, so Kera may fetch food for you. It will take a while for me to do this and you must not fight me in your mind. Hold the thought that I seek only to help you, never to harm you child.’

  Nesh took Dessi’s hand from Kera’s and sat in the chair Kera hurriedly pulled to the side of the small bed. His fingers lightly brushed Dessi’s head again then he closed his eyes, and began. Dessi’s body spasmed as she instinctively resisted his first touch in her mind, then the stiffness went out of her and she lay still.

  Two days after Tika, Farn and their companions arrived at Emla’s house, there came a surge of power that staggered them all. Farn’s sister Nya was the worst affected, as she was flying in pursuit of Ikram. She screamed, tumbling to the ground and lying unmoving. Ikram crawled towards her, pain roaring in his head. Kija was there at once, her eyes flaring gold and scarlet despite the thunder in her own mind. Brin was helping Shar who seemed to have felt the pain as a flash, which, to her terror, left her sightless.

  Uma, who was with Nolli while Ulla, Meppi and Kadi hunted, had her eyes closed as her head swung from side to side and a high pitched moan wailed from her. Lanni was less affected and managed to reach Nolli, while Bara had no idea what had happened as Ryla pitched forward in her chair. Lanni gasped out quickly that a great surge of power had affected them and Bara pulled frantically at the bell cord as she tried to keep Ryla from falling to the floor.

  At the first jolt of pain, Tika had flung up every barrier she could around her mind and Farn’s and neither of them suffered, as did the others. Servants arrived in a rush as Tika assured herself that Farn was all right. She told the servants to help as they could and to fetch healers quickly for the two old ones.

  ‘Shan, help Lanni with Nolli. Lanni felt it too but less strongly. A great drawing of power,’ she explained to Shan’s blank face.

  She hurried outside to where Brin was calming Shar.

  ‘It has affected her sight Tika,’ Brin said.

  Tika slid into Shar’s mind and as quickly out again. ‘If you can make her sleep Brin, then do so. Her sight will return. It is the shock, not permanent damage.’

  Brin rumbled his relief and curved himself around Shar, crooning softly.

  Tika ran on down the path to where Kija was crouched beside Nya and Ikram.

  ‘Ikram sleeps, Tika. He was stunned and dazed but otherwise unhurt. Nya twisted her back as she fell, there is much pain there – can you see?’

  Tika first caught Kija’s long face, holding her between her hands. Kija’s eyes whirred dark gold then faded to a pale honey. She exhaled softly, the ache in her head pushed back by Tika’s power. Only then did Tika move to Nya, checking the small Dragon with her senses as well as her eyes. She pushed at the inert form then asked Kija to help her move Nya onto her belly. As they moved her, a long tear was visible in the wing she had fallen on, dark blood staining the snow beneath her.

  ‘She needs to be warm, Kija.’ Tika looked back to the house. Soran and four Guards were running towards them.

  ‘We have to get her inside. Ikram too.’ She looked hopefully at Soran.

  ‘Boards Sir.’ One of the Guards suggested. ‘Three strong boards, a couple of us at each end of each board. Should manage all right, I reckon.’

  Soran nodded. ‘Fetch them quickly Riff. Is she badly hurt Lady Tika? And what in the name of the stars happened here?’

  ‘It was a tremendous use of power. I’ll explain later but right now I want Shan at the pavilion, hot water and salves. I don’t think the wing is broken but the tear is bad. Will you send a healer please Soran?’

  ‘Of course Lady.’

  One of the Guards hurried back to the house as several more Guards came into the garden carrying three flat boards.

  Kija watched closely as Tika and Soran had the boards slipped beneath Nya’s body. Guards braced themselves and straightened slowly. A forearm dangled and Tika dodged between the Guards and gently rested the arm acros
s the board again. Nya’s tail hung just clear of the snow as the Guards reached the pavilion. With great care, they lowered her near the hearth where Shan waited with other servants, several in tears at the sight of the stricken Dragon.

  Soran ordered his men back to repeat the process with Ikram who was still watched over by his mother. A healer glanced up at Tika from where he sat on a stool by the fire. She was shocked to see how ill he looked. Then it dawned on her. Everyone in Gaharn, all the People who used the power to any extent, would have felt that assault in their minds.

  She watched how the healer swayed as he got to his feet and bent to stretch out Nya’s wing. His human assistant, who held a bowl of water, took a quick look at the healer’s trembling hands and, putting the bowl on the floor, began to gently swab the gaping tear himself. Tika groaned inwardly. She didn’t know how she’d healed Farn but she was going to have to use her power again on Nya too.

  The gash could be sewn but she could clearly see how it would shorten some of the muscle fibres, making Nya’s flight uneven and probably always painful. She touched the healer’s shoulder.

  ‘I’ll try, but you must also try – to lend me what strength you can.’

  He nodded as she knelt beside him. Once again, Tika went deep inside herself and then sent her mind into the ripped wing. She was inside the hide, untangling sinew from tendon, realigning the ropes of muscles. At least there was no hurt to the great blood vessel that lay along the top edge of the wing, a mere two handspans above the wound.

  Then she withdrew and began merging the hide back together, and looked along Nya’s spine. She could see where the Dragon’s back was twisted and although nothing was torn or broken, muscles had been stretched awkwardly to their limit. When she’d done what she could, she leaned against the healer for a moment. She could feel him shivering with strain from channelling strength into herself. His assistant pushed a mug of water into her hands and she drank thirstily.