"I have to find Chanter."
"He's all right."
Talsy ignored his assurance as she searched the darkness amongst the fallen beasts.
Kieran squatted beside Mita, who was propped against a tree trunk some distance from the fire. Her stomach was torn open, coils of entrails visible between Brin's hands as he strived to hold them in. Brin raised a haggard face as the Prince gazed at the wound with sick eyes. He looked down at the sword, wondering if he should try to use it to heal such a mortal wound. Deciding against it, he straightened.
"Make her lie back."
Brin laid the groaning woman on the ground, his bloody hands covering the wound. Nearby, Taff knelt beside Shan, who lay still, blood oozing from a wound on the side of his head. Kieran knelt and poured water over the injury, then held the blade against it and commanded it. The torn flesh closed, but the boy remained comatose. Cursing, the Prince sheathed his sword, moved to the fire and scooped up a burning brand to light his way to Talsy. She stumbled amongst the hairy corpses, groping in the darkness for Chanter. He joined her, holding the torch up as he hunted through the carnage towards the edge of the camp. A huddled form lying next to a tree caught his eye.
"Here he is."
Talsy hurried over as Kieran knelt beside the Mujar's still form, stifling her cry of horror. The side of Chanter's scalp was laid open, and dark blood oozed from torn flesh, revealing a gleam of pale bone. One arm was bent under him, and a leg was twisted to the side. Kieran upended the water skin over the Mujar's head, and Chanter convulsed. His ripped scalp closed, but his eyes remained closed. Talsy knelt at his head, lifted it into her lap and brushed the skeins of silken hair from his face. Taking the water skin from Kieran, she held it to the Mujar's lips and trickled water between them. Chanter coughed and swallowed, writhing as his broken bones knitted and his limbs straightened, then he relaxed, his head lolling to the side.
Kieran scowled. "Mita's badly hurt. I don't know if the sword can heal her, and Shan's been knocked out. We have to try to bring him around."
"How?" Talsy demanded, glaring at him. "He's out cold."
"We need him to heal Mita, or she'll die."
She glanced at the Aggapae who knelt beside their fallen clansmen, her eyes filled with pity. "You've already thrown water over him, what else do you want to do?"
Kieran ran a hand through his ragged hair, wincing as he touched the lacerations on his scalp, and frowned at the unconscious Mujar. "I didn't think Mujar could be knocked unconscious, I have to admit."
"He's flesh and blood, same as us. He can be hurt."
"I know that, damn it, I'm not an idiot!"
"Then stop acting like one," she retorted. "We just have to wait for him to wake up."
"They could die."
"And he can't."
"That's right." Kieran glared at Chanter as if willing him to wake. "There must be some way of bringing him round."
"Like sticking knives in him?"
"I never said -" Kieran broke off as blood-chilling screams ripped through the forest, and the colour drained from his face. "The horses!"
Brin and Taff leapt up, and Brin bellowed, "Task!"
He grabbed his spear and vanished into the forest, pursued by Taff. Mita groaned and cursed, gazing after them.
Talsy hugged Chanter, tears stinging her eyes, and Kieran stood up, his hand on the hilt of the Starsword. For a moment she thought that he would go after them, but he glanced at her and sank down on his haunches again, staring into the darkness. The screams came again, further away, making them wince and Mita cry out in despair. The tension grew as they waited, afraid to contemplate the outcome of the desperate fight for life going on in the darkness. Kieran fed the fire to keep the flames high as he sat vigil beside her. He looked ready to spring up and slay anything that emerged from the gloom.
The moon's golden orb had risen high above them and the woodpile had dwindled to the last few sticks when ghostly forms emerged from the trees. Brin came first, his horse close behind him, then Taff, followed by tall shapes that stayed out of the light. Mita gave a glad cry as her big chestnut came to nuzzle her. The black colt went over to Shan's still form and nudged him, whickering. Kieran tossed the last of the wood on the fire and approached the Aggapae. Brin looked downcast, and several deep scratches crossed his chest. Task had oozing puncture wounds in his neck and shoulder. Taff nursed a mauled thigh swaddled in rough bandages, and his horse limped from a nasty slash on his leg.
"What happened?" Kieran demanded.
"The beasts attacked the horses," Brin replied. "We killed one, and the rest ran off. We lost two." He hung his head.
"Dead?"
Brin nodded, moved closer to the fire and sank down, his face drawn with exhaustion. "Why didn't you help us?"
"I had to stay here. It might have been a diversion. They could have come back and killed everyone."
The Aggapae warrior stared into the fire with blind eyes, undoubtedly reliving the horror of the two slain horses. "We couldn't save them."
"You did the best you could. Those creatures were lethal. At least you saved most of them."
"They were lost without their riders," Brin mourned. "Now they are reunited. Only one of the bereft ones still lives. The one you ride."
Kieran picked up a water skin and used the sword to heal the horses' wounds, and those of their riders. He returned to sit with Talsy, and when the fire died down, fetched more wood and stoked the blaze. Mita coughed and groaned, and Taff sat with her through the night. Talsy eased the Mujar's head onto a rolled-up blanket and lay down beside him, dozing fitfully.
Chanter woke as the rising sun sent probing shafts of warm radiance through the trees. First he became aware of the intense stiffness in his limbs, then Dolana's icy claws lodged deep within him. Opening his eyes, he tried to rise, but his limbs were too weak, and he turned his head. Kieran was slumped beside him, his chin resting on his chest.
"Kieran."
The Prince jerked awake with a snort, glancing around. Brin sagged near the fire's embers, and Taff lay next to Mita. Kieran helped Chanter to sit up, alarmed by the Mujar's chilly skin. The movement roused the chosen, who all experienced the shock awakening of the nervously dozing. Talsy looked worried and chafed Chanter's hands, but warmth soon seeped back into him when he lost contact with the ground. He rose and went to Mita, followed by Kieran.
"I was afraid to use the sword on her, it's so bad," the Prince explained.
Chanter nodded and poured water on the Aggapae woman's wound. Invoking Shissar, he pulled aside the flaps of torn skin and tucked her entrails back into her belly before easing the skin over them again. Mita watched without flinching, for he used the healing power to deaden her pain. When he had arranged the wound to his satisfaction, Chanter laid his hands on it, and the tears closed and sealed together. Mita sat up and fingered the pink scars with wonder. Next the Mujar knelt beside Shan, his slender fingers cradling the boy's head. Using his thumbs to open Shan's eyes, he stared into them as if plumbing the depths of the boy's soul.
"Shan, come back."
The boy groaned as Chanter drew him back from beyond the black curtain. When he sighed and blinked, Chanter released him and settled back on his haunches.
"He'll be all right now. He'll sleep for a while."
Brin shot the Mujar a grateful look as he tucked the blanket more firmly around the boy. Mita was already on her feet, crooning to her horse. Talsy gazed at Chanter, yawning. Taff put a pot of water on the fire to make tea, coaxing the coals to burn new wood.
Chanter stared at the fire, and Kieran asked, "What were those monsters?"
"Creatures of the chaos." The Mujar rubbed the side of his head where the wound had been.
"You didn't expect them to attack you, did you?"
"No. That's never happened before. I thought I could turn them away, but their minds were closed to me. They had Lowman blood."
Talsy smothered a gasp and drew her blanket more tightly arou
nd her shoulders as she shivered with horror as well as the morning chill. "Why did they attack us?"
Chanter shrugged. "They were driven by hunger and hate, that's all I know." He looked at a shaggy corpse. "They seem to be a cross between dire bears and hunting cats, with Lowman blood as well."
"How's that possible?" Talsy demanded. "They couldn't breed that fast."
"Anything's possible now." Chanter's words dropped like stones into the silence that only Taff stirring the pot of tea broke, and he stopped, glancing around at the gloomy gathering.
The Mujar raised his eyes to Talsy's. "Your mark does not protect you from creatures like these, and the spirits of earth and forest have all fled. Soon we'll enter the heart of this forest, where the Kuran who guards it dwells, and it'll be much safer there. But beyond that, the creatures of the chaos rule, and they'll be a danger to all of us."
"What are you saying? That we should give up? Seek shelter with the Kuran?" Talsy frowned.
"No. I know you won't give up, and the Kuran can't protect us. Her presence repels the unnatural beasts for now, but her power will wane as the chaos grows stronger. I think we must rest there for a few days, that's all."
She nodded. "Of course, we will. And now we know that these animals are dangerous, we'll be prepared."
"We can be more alert," Chanter agreed. "But even I only have the same senses as you, with one addition. Perhaps mine are more acute, but, as you've seen, I can be defeated quite easily when taken by surprise, and none of us has eyes in the back of our heads."
"We have seven pairs of eyes," she pointed out, glancing around at the Aggapae's doubtful faces. "And we still have the wind."
"Yes, but six of those pairs of eyes must sleep at night. The wind can't always help, and doesn't always come quickly enough."
"What are you trying to tell us?"
Chanter sighed and lowered his gaze to the fire once more. "Only that it's going to get very dangerous, and maybe some of us won't survive."
Talsy followed his gaze, watching the flames lick at the bottom of the bubbling pot. Chanter had not expected her determination to carry her this far, and the thought of losing some of their friends hurt him, so he was offering them a last chance to back out.
She glanced around again. "If anyone wants to turn back, now's the time to do it. No one will blame you, and Chanter will be happy if you do."
Brin swapped a look with Taff and Mita, Kieran stared at the ground. The senior Aggapae warrior shook his head. "We're staying."
The Mujar boy wandered through the woods, ate voraciously and absorbed information at an astonishing rate. He examined everything that came into his grasp, sometimes with startling results. His first encounter with an animal had shocked him. The beast had been friendly, nuzzling the boy. He, in turn, had mapped the beast with his hands, finding it fat, short and bristly, and a little on the smelly side. When he had tried to taste it, however, the animal had squealed in protest. Desperate to make amends, the boy had called it back, discovering, in the process, that he could. He examined the injury his sharp teeth had caused, tasting the blood that oozed from it. The discovery that the animal was alive, like him, delighted him, and that it felt pain amazed him. He experimented on himself, biting his arm, and knew why the beast had squealed. To his blind senses the bog boar appeared as an ill-defined shape with a core of gold, shimmering with blue and streaked with lines of Dolana. He stayed with the bog boar, enjoyed its company and foraged beside the pig for sweet tubers. As he moved deeper into the forest, the shimmering blue around him grew stronger, the trees healthy and full of water.
When he encountered a stream, he explored the beauty of water for two days, drank vast quantities and urinated for the first time. The world thrust new experiences upon him every day, and he thrived on it. He had long since discovered that the warmth moved over him whether he walked or not, and he shelved its puzzling mystery. He had a bigger problem to solve, for he still could not find his name. The golden light in his head thwarted all his attempts to track down the elusive appellation. For three days, he sat in a tree and hunted through his mind's clouded recesses for the name he craved. The golden light flickered and swarmed, filling his mind with so much meaningless information that it left little room for anything else. One gilded word kept thrusting itself into his consciousness, and, after three days, he decided that it must be his name, odd though it was. Having settled the matter, he re-joined the pig on the ground, satisfied at last. His name was Law.
Law wandered on through the forest, growing in stature and strength. Some of the Ishmak's seeds had detached, leaving their hair behind to clothe him. Many still remained, and he did not try to pull them off, but allowed them to fall when they wished.
Two days after deciding his name, he foraged with his friend when the bog boar squealed and dashed away. Law looked around in alarm, his limited senses revealing only trees and rocks. A new smell came to him on the wind, and he waited curiously for its source to arrive.
Two Truemen, brought from across the sea by the semi-ants, stepped from the bush and encountered a strange, hairy white creature. They stopped in surprise when the boy approached them, hands outstretched. No Trueman had ever encountered a Mujar this young, for they were born far out in the wilderness and took several years to find their way to Truemen cities. The semi-ant's citadel was not far from the dry plains where Law had been born, however.
The furry white creature explored the men with his hands, plucked at their clothes and sniffed them. The men chuckled and petted him.
"Friendly little tyke, isn't he?" A man who had been a farmer grinned at his companion, once a city guard.
"Odd looking too. If it was possible, I'd say he's a man crossed with a caterpillar, Vosh."
Vosh laughed, stroking the boy's silky hair. "We should take him back as a pet."
"Yeah. Wonder if he can talk." The ex-guard squatted and studied the boy's face. "Hell, the poor kid's blind."
"Is he?" Vosh peered at Law's closed eyes. "Poor bugger. I guess caterpillars don't have eyes, do they?"
"Don't they?" The ex-guard straightened, and Vosh leant closer the Mujar boy. "Hey kid, you got a name?"
Law realised that the creature addressed him. Already he had absorbed and assimilated the spoken language, which woke memories deep within his mind, and he understood the question perfectly. He did have a name, but he had never spoken before. His first attempt emerged as a croak, and, realising that it sounded wrong, he tried again. It took five attempts before he got it right.
"Law."
The creature called Vosh sounded amused. "Funny name. Mum must have been the caterpillar, I guess. How old are you, kid?"
Law calculated how long he had been aware. His only reference was the warm spells, and he counted them. "Thirty-nine warm spells."
"Thirty-nine summers, hey?" The former guardsman chuckled. "You don't look that old kid. You sure you can count?"
Vosh scowled at his companion. "He can't be thirty-nine summers, Perton, a crossbreed couldn't have been conceived that long ago."
"Yeah, you're right. Then he must mean days. Wow, he must have grown pretty quick. He can't mean moons, because they're not warm spells, and he can't see."
"Yeah," Vosh agreed. "But crossbreeds do grow quick."
Perton bent to address Law again. "Hey, Law, you want to come home with us? We'll give you food, and a place to stay."
Law nodded. "Comforts?"
Vosh swapped a look with Perton. 'Comforts' was a well-known Mujar expression, but the men shook their heads together.
"Nah, coincidence," Vosh said.
"Must be, he sure doesn't look like one."
"And I never heard of a blind one before, either."
The men urged Law to accompany them, and headed back to the semi-ants' colony where they lived. Law, eager to learn, followed like a lost puppy, dropping several seeds along the way.
The Truemen had no idea what a dangerous creature they had befriended, for no man had
met such a young Mujar before. Law, still clad in his flower's silk, was as powerful as an adult Mujar and able to invoke the Powers as easily, but lacked an adult's control and compunction. What the men took home as a pet was the most innocently dangerous creature to be born into this gentle world, a Mujar child who had never used his powers.
At the entrance to the vast mud city that clogged the valley, two wingless guards challenged the trio. The semi-ant warriors came forward to investigate them, clicking their massive scissor jaws. Law started forward to examine the new beasts, but Vosh grabbed his arm, detaining him.
"No, boy, these buggers don't like to be fiddled with."
Law waited while the men argued with the guards, not about bringing the boy into the hive, as they had expected, but for returning empty handed from a hunt. The strange child did not seem to perturb the guards, and after the brief debate they stood aside, clicking their mandibles as the people sidled past. Vosh and Perton led Law through a maze of mud tunnels to the cavern that was Vosh's home. A woman looked up from stirring a pot of stew as Vosh guided the boy into the room, her face flushed from the fire's heat.
"See what we found, Letta? A sweet little kid, wandering around in the forest all by himself. I brought him home for you. He talks and everything, but he's blind."
"The poor thing." Letta came over to study the child, putting a hand under his chin to lift his face and stare at his closed eyes. The boy's fine features had no vestige of Trueman baby chubbiness, and, although the long white hair covered most of his face, there was a clear area of dead white skin around his nose and mouth.
"He's beautiful." Letta sighed. "But he isn't Trueman. Not with all that hair."
"Nah, 'course he ain't. He's a cross, but still, he's cute and clever. I thought you'd like him. He says his name's Law."
Vosh smiled at Letta, a plump comely woman just past her prime who had never conceived a child. To her, he knew that Law was a gift from the gods, even if he was a little strange. She beamed at Vosh. Before the semi-ants had abducted them, Letta had been married to a blacksmith with in inclination towards roughness. She and Vosh now lived together in the semi-ant's citadel.
Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law Page 13
