“But,” Magnus persisted, “if the Witch can see out of the Third Eye, then why does she not give them direction…?”
Thomas Taper sighed, and slowly drew his sword, though in a helpless manner, as if he thought it little use.
“The Third Eye is not like a human eye, Magnus Lanark: it sees into men’s souls, and hearts, and finds their greatest fear, thus to exploit it; and many armies have been scattered in disarray by its power, but that is itself limited, and it does not see as we do. Its strength is particularly diminished by day…” And suddenly he held his sword up, and reached with a quick movement into the bushes in front of him, and pulled a struggling figure from out of them. My brother and I gasped, for we thought at first it was one of the Watchers, and he was about to slice them open; but we saw instead it was a small, rotund man, with a smooth, bald head, and ill-fitting clothing. He wriggled like a worm on a hook.
“Brothers! Ow! Let me go! Let me go!! I am a loyal subject of His Majesty, you have no right to detain me like this. Let me go! Ow!!”
Thomas held him hard round the collar, and after a while the little man stopped trying to escape, and hung, exhausted, his feet just off the ground, staring listlessly at his captor. His eyes then rolled to either side, and he caught sight of us, and smiled weakly.
“What are you doing, hiding in the bushes, sirrah?” Thomas demanded, and, though he seemed cool, I caught the tremor in his voice.
“I might ask the same of you, sir! What business has a man and two children wandering the Plateau, especially with all the - people about…”
Thomas shook him.
“What people? You know of them?!”
The other man shook his head so violently I thought it would come off.
“No, no! God preserve us! I am a loyal subject of His Maj…”
“Yes, yes, you said all that.”
The little man gave his weak smile.
“Well, I am an equerry to the Imperial Household, sir, on secondment to the Provincial Council here in the Valleys of the Moon, and I have been charged with, err, improving relations between His Majesty the Emperor and His loyal subjects in this province…” He paused, and licked his lips, then added sadly: “But, more recently, I have had responsibility for security in Lyme and Broadfarrow, since the Festival of the Moon falls tomorrow night, and there have been - people about.” He looked hopefully at Thomas, who mulled his story for a moment, before setting him down gently.
“So they made you a policeman?” he said to the small man, his tone only slightly mocking. “Aren’t there militias for that kind of thing?”
The little man brushed himself off.
“I have been put in charge of the local militia. They instructed - I mean, I requested – that I should come up here and make sure this area was free of, err – undesirables.” And he smiled once more.
“Sounds like they’ve got you under their thumb,” Thomas muttered quietly. The other man pretended not to hear. “Well, it looks like you’ve found some ‘undesirables’: a traveller, and two young children, hungry and weary from many miles’ walking, and needing shelter for the night. If you can lead us off the Plateau, and find us somewhere to rest, and perhaps some food to eat, we would be most grateful, Mister…?”
“Bryant, sir. Cornelius Bryant. Shelter, you say? Food? Hmm. Could be tricky…”
Thomas shifted impatiently.
“I have but a little money, it’s true, and unfortunately I left my finest silks at home…” And he smiled. “But I can recompense you for your trouble when I reach my destination. I have some friends at Court who would vouch for me: Will Bowyer, of the Imperial Bodyguard; and also Francis Mead, of the Procurator’s office. That name alone should mean something to you.”
Cornelius Bryant worked at his chin with a small, stubby hand.
“Hmm… I believe I am familiar with the name Francis Mead, certainly. He is highly regarded, I believe, and from your tone I believe you are sincere when you say that you know him. But that still does not explain how you came here. And you are armed…”
Thomas seemed lost in thought for a moment, before replying:
“If you must know, I am on Court business, and for now my business takes me to the Capital. I have served in the military, and they taught me how to use a sword. I came across these children in Calm, not five days ago, and volunteered to accompany them as far as Ampar. As you say, the roads are often unfriendly places these days…”
“That is true, brother, that is true. You have made good progress to get across the Plateau in only four days – but I see you are a man well used to travelling the wild places, and no doubt know the shortest way…” Cornelius looked at us for a moment, considering, before finally, with a smile, he said: “Well, what can I say? You are all of you welcome to the Moonland, though you may not find it as welcoming as Calm. The terrain is rougher here, and the people somewhat… coarser. I will find you some food and shelter, though if I were you, I would not linger here too long – the Festival of the Moon is a… strange time to be around. They barely tolerate me, and I have been here over a year. But still, follow me, follow me…”
When we emerged from our shelter beneath the trees, the last of the rain was dripping lazily from the branches, and the ground was sodden and slippery. We trod carefully behind the small man, as he picked his way down the hill, and I only glanced back once, towards the place where we had seen the Watchers; but there was nothing there, only the dark, and the silence.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The rocky hills of the Moonland, which together form a cluster of grey, rubble-strewn valleys north of the Plateau, reminded me of my own home: they were not as dramatic as the great Anvil Valley, I felt, and their mountains were hardly worthy of the name, being worn and feeble-looking things in comparison to ours; but still there was a sense of familiarity to the place, and to the homesteads sheltering together on the mountains’ slopes.
But this was not home, and, as Cornelius Bryant had suggested, we did not seem to be welcome.
There were banners and coils of bunting dancing crazily in the wind, and we could see the preparations for the Festival of the Moon as we came into Broadfarrow, where Bryant was stationed. We climbed slowly up the side of a hill to his house.
“It’s how the valleys here got their name,” he explained, as he fussed us through his front door and into a cosy, untidy parlour, with a low roof; Thomas knocked his head against it coming in. The air had the fuggish quality of a bachelor’s quarters; a little close, and swimming with the scent of pipe tobacco. “The first full moon of the autumn, so the story goes, was when, many years ago, the giant Arle made the people of these valleys. And he formed them from the earth, and from the moon, and so they called this place the Moonland, and have done ever since… Well, it’s a nice story, if you believe in that sort of thing. And so the Festival of the Moon is when they celebrate their creation, and there are all sorts of strange rituals go on. Last year, I kept myself indoors on that day, and they obviously considered it a wise decision on my part, for outsiders are not invited to participate in their ceremonies, at least at the Festival. I locked all my doors, and went to bed; but there were still people rattling at the locks in the small hours, and making strange noises out in the yard. I must say, it wasn’t altogether pleasant…”
Thomas caught my eye at this, and we both laughed.
Bryant swept about his kitchen, making tea, and shooing us into chairs by the hearth. After the hard going on the Plateau, we were all of us grateful to be in a proper home again, and within minutes my brother was fast asleep, followed swiftly by Thomas, who snored without a care, as was his wont. In the end, there was only me to serve tea and toast to, which Cornelius did, and he was a generous host; though after a while I too wearied of his chatter, and could hold up my head no more, surrendering gratefully to sleep.
When I awoke, it was with the ache and disorientation of someone who has had too little rest, or too much. My right arm had gone numb where I
had fallen asleep on it, and my eyes were gummy and sore. I gazed in panic about me, and thought myself still trapped in some dream, until I recalled the previous night, and our fortunate escape from the Plateau. The chair opposite, where my brother had been, was vacant, and when I turned I saw that Thomas was gone also, and there was a woollen blanket covering me up to my chin. I rose and stretched awkwardly, almost losing my balance and tumbling to the floor. Then I wondered if there was somewhere I could wash, even perhaps bathe, for I felt hot and dirty, and longed to get clean.
Cornelius appeared, a bright-green waistcoat about his corpulent belly, and his bald head blinking in the morning sunshine, and offered me hot chocolate and shortbread, and I was grateful for both: the chocolate scalding and rich to the tongue, and the biscuits thick, like the fingers of a giant, and burnt slightly at the edges.
“Where are the others?” I asked, and he told me Thomas and Magnus had already breakfasted, and had gone for a walk in the garden.
I blinked, and ran my fingers through my hair, and smelt the grease on them. I made a face, and Cornelius smiled, and asked tentatively:
“I could run you a bath, if you like…?”
I nodded, and he seemed pleased, and disappeared into one of the back rooms. I realized we had trusted this strange little man with our lives – he could, I supposed, have murdered us in our sleep – but Thomas had clearly judged him no threat, and he certainly seemed friendly enough, if somewhat eccentric.
“You are all alone up here, then?” I asked, as he set about preparing the bath, returning to the kitchen to boil some water. He seemed slightly startled by my question.
“Alone? Yes, yes, I am alone. I have no wife. You and your brother, you have… family?”
I sucked at my lip, and it tasted of dried blood. My mother had always scolded me for biting my lips.
“We have each other,” I said finally, after a long pause, and Cornelius seemed happy not to press the matter.
“Then you are lucky. I have no family anymore,” he said quietly, and before I could say anything more he disappeared again, carrying a jug of hot water that was almost as large as he was.
I sat back in the chair and finished my chocolate, the dregs circling the bottom of the mug, crumbs of shortbread powdering the front of my blouse. After a while, Cornelius came round the corner with a towel and a cake of soap, and gestured to the back room, where I found a wide, tin tub, steam sighing invitingly from its rim. Testing the water, I found it a little too hot, and, stripping off my clothes, sat naked for a minute or so on a small chair and let my mind drift. There was no one to watch, and I did not think Cornelius was the sort to peep. Anyway, I knew what to do with such people; not long before the drakes had come, one of the boys from the village had tried to look in at me while I was having a bath; I hurled a pumice-stone as hard as I could through the window, and broke his nose. Now that boy was dead, most likely, like everyone else from my village. If his relatives came looking for him, would they know him by his broken nose?
After a while I climbed into the bath, and felt the ache and stiffness in my limbs relax, as I soaked gratefully in the warm water. I leaned back for a while, my hair hanging limply over the edge of the tub, my chin just resting on the skin of the water, and my legs floating away from me. It was the most beautiful feeling I had had in all those long days, since we had begun our journey, and I gave thanks for it.
Clutching at the sides, I sank my head beneath the water, and lay down in the bottom of the tub, watching the shimmering world above, enjoying the dullness of the sound. I was about to pull myself back up, when I was aware of a hand on my chest - two hands - and I realized in a horrified daze that they were trying to push me down…
I tried not to panic. I could barely see my attacker, and they had caught me so off guard I was hardly capable of defending myself. But I rallied, pushing back against the force above, and reaching for what I thought might be its neck. I obviously managed to get some purchase, for it seemed to yelp, and fall back, and that gave me the time I needed to gather myself and haul my body upwards, above the water, as I felt it enter my mouth and nostrils, stinging and choking.
I retched and coughed for a good minute, clearing my lungs, and rubbing desperately at my eyes. I was just about aware of several people in the room – they seemed to have run in at that moment – and when finally my sight cleared I saw that Thomas had an arm, and a towel, round me, and Cornelius was standing open-mouthed in the corner. And there, on the floor, dripping and red-faced with anger, was my attacker.
It was my brother.
We stared at each other for a while, both breathing hard; he furious, I bewildered. And then he said:
“I hate you!”
I looked at his face, knotted with rage, but still the face of a child, and felt myself weep. “I hate you! You shouldn’t have brought us here! I hate this place! We should go back to our village, to Mum and Dad…” I could see him struggling to contain his grief, and I wanted to touch him, to reach out and hug him. But I knew he would not have me. “You don’t miss them like I do! You’re a liar! You said we were going to get help, from the emperor! But you just want to go off by yourself and leave me behind…”
“I don’t…”
“You’re a liar! You’re just sitting there as if nothing has happened!”
“Mag, that’s not true…”
“It is!” He was on his feet now. “I hate you for what you’ve done to us. I want to go home. If Mum and Dad are dead I want to die with them…”
“Mag…”
“I don’t want to be in this place. I’m scared and I’m tired. I want Mum…” And he ran to a corner of the room, his arm over his face, and his back to us, and cried bitterly. And I felt my heart tear in two in that moment, for I knew I had failed him, as I had failed myself. For he was right. We should have died with our parents. That was our place. We had been lent this extra life, it seemed, not as a gift, but as a punishment, as something to taunt and betray us; and I knew that nothing I could say or do would make amends for that. I had become my brother’s enemy, that thing I so least wanted to be. And I looked up at Thomas and Cornelius, arms outstretched as if in supplication, and wailed. Then I passed out.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“You cannot go back.”
When I came to, my head was thumping painfully, and my throat felt dry and hoarse. I was in a chair, in another room of the house, its broad window looking down upon the valley below, and a small fire muttering in the corner. I was wrapped in a thick, long towel, and balanced on a broad cushion, which raised me up so my feet were slightly off the ground. I waggled my toes a little, and looked down at them. I had always liked my feet. They made me laugh.
The chair was wicker, with a back that fanned out widely, and made the whole thing feel like something of a throne; and, despite the circumstances, I even felt somewhat regal sat up there, peering down at my toes. I laughed again, despite everything.
Then I became aware of Thomas, sitting in the window-seat opposite, smoking quietly, and gazing out at the mountains. He did not smile at my laughter; indeed he hardly looked at me. And then I remembered what had happened earlier, and a tear ran quickly down my face. Thomas simply continued speaking, almost as if to himself.
“The Watchers have your scent now. They will be guarding the Plateau like hawks, in case you return that way. I do not know what they want with you. But nothing makes sense anymore… I will accompany you and your brother to Ampar, and find safe lodging for you, until it is safe for you to return to your own lands.”
“I am not returning to my own lands…”
“Give it a month or so, and the Great Road may be passable once more. I can take you home through East Cross, and down through Fellen…”
“I am not returning to my own lands. I…”
He turned and looked at me, his face a mixture of weariness and contempt.
“I… what?”
I paused, swallowed. I could not tell him the t
ruth.
“I have to get to the emperor…”
Thomas stood up, pacing angrily.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake! The emperor doesn’t just see people…! Last I heard, he was barely in his right mind. You don’t just make an appointment and… wander in. Do you know how many people petition the emperor every week? They’re lucky if one in a thousand of them gets to shake his hand…”
Cornelius came in, his hands in his pockets, looking older than he had earlier. He leaned against the doorpost.
“How is the boy?” he asked.
“Fast asleep, upstairs,” Thomas replied. “I’ll go and look in on him presently.”
“I imagine he’s worn out, the poor little chap…” said Cornelius.
And he cast what looked like an accusing glance in my direction, before sitting at the other end of the window-seat, drumming his fat fingers against his legs for a couple of minutes. Then he said:
“It’s beginning to get dark. You will have to stay with me another night now. It won’t be safe for you to travel until the festivities are over. We’ll be all right, as long as we remain in the house until the morning.”
Thomas hardly seemed to register this at first, but then looked up dimly. He nodded.
“You know what’s best. We’ll do as you say.”
Cornelius looked relieved at this, and announced he was going to make some supper. He disappeared to the kitchen, and Thomas and I were alone once more. Silence settled for so long that I found myself nodding to sleep once or twice, but forced myself to keep my eyes open. I looked across at the swordsman, thinking him asleep, but saw that he was only very still, for his eyes, though almost shut, were still blinking from time to time. Eventually the curtain of night fell, and it became dark in the room.
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