Children of Ambros

by Katy Winter

  "Kosko's happy for you to pass through our lands. Most of the other desert lords already were, before Kosko spoke. It was only his satellites who supported him."

  "And the Sophy?"

  "Don't underestimate the Sophy," whispered Choja fiercely.

  "I don't, Choja. Your father's an unusual man."

  "What do you wish to do, Schol? Do we wait to see how my father deals with Kosko and then lets you leave, or do you wish to act now?"

  "Now!" growled Jaim from the bed. The tribesman flicked him the trace of a smile, then turned back to Autoc who stroked his beard.

  "I agree with Jaim, Choja, but I need to know something first. How will our disappearance affect you and your father? I'd do nothing to cause either of you harm." Choja's smile was singularly unpleasant, his lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl.

  "The Sophy will challenge Kosko about the strangers."

  "In what way?"

  "They weren't brought to him in the first place, which is a serious discourtesy and breach of desert protocol, they lied that they came seeking passage - dissembling by others isn't encouraged in our lands though we do it well ourselves. They abused the rites of hospitality by demanding a Sophy's guest as hostage. Kosko compounded the insult by using such an abuse for personal gain and he spat, which was a personal insult to the Sophy." Choja paused. "I could go on, as doubtless the Sophy will," he added, his grin now wide.

  "I begin to follow your questioning at the gather, Choja," chuckled Jaim appreciatively.

  "My father will force Kosko to make a public admission of these perceived lapses, Schol, and Kosko will have to admit, too, that he tried to bribe the Sophy. No one," said Choja with relish, "offers bribes to a Sophy. Kosko will be humiliated and he'll have to forfeit much."

  "That'll make him a most bitter enemy, Choja," warned Autoc.

  "We know that, Schol. It's happened before."

  "But don't forget Queeb and Ohb."

  "Don't concern yourself, Schol." There was a glint in Choja's eyes. "My father has other knowledge of Kosko of which the desert lord is unaware. The boy's disappearance will sink in what's to come." Autoc's eyes lit with amusement.

  "I'll miss conversations with the Sophy," he observed. "He has a most interesting mind."

  "Devious," murmured Jaim, standing and stretching. Choja bowed at that.

  "That's a compliment," he assured Jaim. The smile that touched his eyes went and he looked sombre. "Schol, you must assemble all you need quickly. I anticipated your answer. Bring yourselves to the stables where we'll await you."

  Autoc and Jaim wasted no time sorting and packing methodically, before Autoc shook Chlorien awake once more and pulled her to her feet, words of warning spoken softly.

  "Not a sound, little one. We're moving on." Chlorien stared up at him, momentarily disoriented, then her eyes cleared and she nodded. With Jaim, they moved quietly through the door and stealthily down the corridor. "You know quick and quiet ways to the stables, lad, don't you?" Autoc sent. Chlorien responded straight away, her message assured.

  "Yes, Father. That's easy." Autoc paused with a hand on her shoulder.

  "Lead on, child. We'll follow."

  Chlorien stood still briefly, then turned, began to backtrack, and led the mage and the Gnosti through a maze of corridors that left the men utterly confused. Autoc heard Jaim mutter to himself as he hurried along behind, and, in spite of everything, the mage had to grin. He thought, if his direction wasn't completely astray, that Chlorien led them towards the front entrance and he was about to remonstrate when she swerved unexpectedly, veered left and stopped. She looked up at Autoc.

  "This is how Jochoh and I got into the stables the day you let Choja punish me," came her thought in the mage's mind.

  "That rankles, does it, little one?" he sent back. He saw the grin on her face before she turned from him, gently easing open a door that the mage would never have known was there. He heard the deep chuckle from Jaim and grinned again.

  They entered the back of the main stables, a flickering light at the far side of them acting as a guiding beacon through the dark. Chlorien made no errors of footing and the men continued to follow her until she brought them to where they could see Choja, already mounted, with Jochoh astride a smaller horse beside him. Six other tribesmen were ready and saddlebags bulged with provisions. Two heavier horses also carried provisions and a tribesman held the extra reins from them; obviously he'd lead them.

  Autoc looked questioningly at Choja, who just sharply shook his head and pointed to their horses ready and saddled. Jaim and Autoc quickly tied their bundles to smaller ones they assumed held some sort of provisions for each person.

  "How," whispered Jaim to Choja, "are you going to get us all out without anyone hearing us?" Choja pointed to the hoof of his horse. Jaim looked down and nodded comprehension when he looked from Choja's horse to all the others; they all had hooves swathed in very heavy cloth. "And any guards that Kosko may have brought?" pursued Jaim, feeling very like the old man he masqueraded as.

  "The desert lord's men are drunk," hissed Choja, baring his teeth. "The Chojoh's renowned for his hospitality. The guards are my father's men. Let's move!" He glanced at Jaim, then turned to Autoc. "I'll lead, you three follow me close and my men will be behind you. Jochoh, forward, boy."

  Autoc found it singularly nerve-racking to begin with, as the horses moved forward in single file, their hoof-beats muffled but still painfully audible to the mage's ears. They crossed the stable-yard and out into one of the smaller inner courtyards, all following Choja who kept as close to the walls as he could and carefully edged his horse round potted ornamentals. Jaim understood the need for a circuitous route, but he almost swore fluently when his horse nearly crashed into a pot and had to be quickly jerked back. Autoc could hear him mutter again.

  They crossed a terrace and down steps to another courtyard, then snaked through a series of arches that took them along a cloister, Autoc expecting, at any moment, to hear sounds of pursuit. The only shadows they saw were their own or those of the Sophy's men melting back out of the riders' way. They finally reached the large courtyard entrance where they had shelter from the huge trees that blocked any light and disguised movement.

  Choja urged his horse to a canter and led the others out into the broad avenue. Once they were well away from the courtyard, Choja threw a command over his shoulder and set off at a gallop, not slackening the pace until they reached the markets and beehive dwellings that spawned off them. Here they reined in to a sedate walk before galloping again. When they reached the huge main gates of Indigo, Choja drew up and made a noise in his throat, twice. He waited. He repeated the sound. This second time a figure approached.

  "Sophysun?" it murmured.

  "Yes, it's Choja," he replied softly.

  Then he said something Autoc didn't catch. The figure retreated and a few minutes later men dragged open the gates. Choja gave a single whistled note as he moved his horse forward. The others followed in silence. They heard the gates hauled to behind them and then slammed shut, bolts jammed hard home.

  Outside Indigo, Choja signalled a halt. He waited until everyone dismounted, then curtly directed the travellers to unmuffle the horses' feet, something he'd already started to do for his mount. Once this was done, Choja checked each rider's mount then glanced over the standing figures cursorily.

  "Let's move," he suggested. "There may be pursuit."

  It was a strange ride through the dark. All around was sandy gravel and silence, the only sound the breathing of galloping horses. The air was warm and still. Choja frequently altered their pace to ease the strain on their mounts, but after several miles had been put between them and Indigo they mostly walked or trotted the horses. Autoc didn't relax.

  He let his mind range until he could sense Blach's men. Not only did he sense their gloating over what they considered was a foregone conclusion to the negotiations, but he also picked up how they intended to treat the boy they expected to b
e given the following day. That made the mage's face harden into barely recognisable lines. The two men were still at the gathering that showed no signs of being broken up by the Sophy. Autoc could've blessed Chojoh. His eyes rested on the figure now riding next to him, and, since he sensed no distress from Chlorien and she looked easy in the saddle, Autoc decided to leave her memory blocked for the time being.

  They rode through the night, stopped briefly in the morning for food and rest for the horses, then rode again. Choja wasn't talkative. As usual his men were silent and thoughtful and Jaim and Autoc, both sensing Choja didn't want to discuss anything, didn't try to communicate.

  Chlorien and Jochoh rode together, their heads facing each other with words tumbling from their lips and heads thrown back with laughter every so often. Theirs was the only sound that disturbed the silence of the desert. With sundown, Choja drew to a halt, and turning, flung a command at his men. He looked across at Jochoh and Chlorien.

  "You'll assemble the oublas, boys, and then care for all the horses. Be quick about it!"

  The pair slithered from their mounts immediately and stood waiting until Choja, Autoc and Jaim dismounted, then they gathered up all the reins and disappeared into the settling gloom. Jaim went across to Choja and touched him on the arm. Green eyes looked at the old man and Choja raised his eyebrows.

  "Yes, Jaim?" Autoc noticed how strained the tribesman's face was and how sombre his expression.

  "Tell me where to cook," suggested Jaim quietly. A glimmer of a smile touched the wintry eyes.

  "Indeed, Old One, that'd be a pleasure." Choja led Jaim a short distance to where a tribesman prepared the special, deep sand pit that these people made preparatory to cooking any food. "He offers to cook for us again, Ajah." Ajah lifted his head, grinned and pointed to the pots. Jaim grinned back.

  "Go, Choja," he said, waving an arm airily up at Choja as he squatted down beside the tribesman. Choja turned away to confront Autoc.

  "Jaim's cooking again, is he?" Choja nodded.

  "He seems to prefer it that way," he agreed. Autoc surveyed the tribesman, well aware of the young man's tension.

  He said quietly, "You may leave the boys to me, Choja. I'll keep an eye on them so you can concentrate on other things."

  Choja nodded, then abruptly turned away. Autoc's eyes followed the retreating figure, then turned thoughtfully to the boys who'd erected three of the oublas and were busy on a fourth. They both looked up on his approach.

  "Well, lads," he began, standing next to Jochoh, "life out here is serious, isn't it?" The boys nodded. "There'll be no running off for fun, nor any fooling. Is that clear?" While Chlorien nodded immediately, Jochoh stared speculatively at the mage then saw the seriousness of Autoc's expression. He nodded. When Autoc walked away the boys exchanged glances. Jochoh shrugged.

  Late that night after they had eaten and Jochoh and Chlorien were asleep, Autoc left the fire and the company, to move noiselessly to the edge of the camp where he stood as still and silent as his surroundings. He felt he needed to be alone to think. Twenty minutes later, Choja joined him.

  "Do I intrude?" Autoc, away with his thoughts, turned sharply, then relaxed.

  "No, not at all Choja." There was nothing said for a few moments, then Choja spoke, a wistful note to his voice.

  "You said you trusted me, Schol."

  "I didn't lie," responded Autoc, staring straight ahead.

  "Then tell me I'm not wrong," said Choja very quietly. Autoc turned to face him, barely making out the tribesman's face in the dark.

  "What worries you so, Choja?" Choja hunkered down, his finger tracing a pattern in the sand.

  "You do," he answered. Autoc stared down at him and Choja felt the regard, his head lifting and his eyes glinting. "You're a mage, aren't you?"

  "Aye," replied Autoc calmly. "I am."

  "And the boy? Is he, too, a mage?" Autoc smiled, but Choja missed that because it was dark.

  "No, the boy isn't a mage."

  "And the old man - is he someone else?"

  "Yes, Choja, he is. He's a Gnosti. Do you know what that is?" Choja responded in a deep and measured voice.

  "Some people on Ambros don't believe in them. That's foolish. They never come east," he went on, in a flat tone. "They live far west and no man I know has ever seen one."

  "Then you, my friend, are the first to have done so." Autoc stood still again.

  "Why does he travel as other than his own kind?"

  "It doesn't seem wise for him to be seen so far east, Choja, as a Gnosti. Chlorien doesn't know who or what Jaim is. She thinks he's merely a nice old man. It must stay that way."

  "And the boy? What's he?"

  "He's a boy of talent, Choja," sighed Autoc.

  "Was he born in the Samar States?"

  "He was."

  "Where?"

  "I spoke of Samar on our first night with your people in Indigo, Choja. I spoke of Ortok; that's where Chlorien was born and where he lived until we came west."

  "I remember the dinner conversation clearly, Schol."

  "I thought you might," responded the mage with a faint chuckle.

  "Why do you have to guard him so? Did the warlord want the boy?"

  "Yes, he did. I brought the lad away from all that."

  "Others seek him too."

  "Aye, they do."

  "And not just the two men in Indigo?"

  "What are you asking me, Choja?"

  "The southern sorcerer - or is he, like you, a mage as some are suggesting? Does he want the boy?"

  "Why would he want the lad, Choja?"

  "Schol, you're fencing with me. He, too, seeks the boy, doesn't he?" Autoc didn't speak for a long minute. When he spoke his voice was tired.

  "Who suggested all this to you, Choja? Doesn't it seem far-fetched?" Choja got to his feet.

  "No," he said, on a faint sigh. "None of this is impossible - we live in strange times, Schol, so I dismiss nothing and I listen and I watch. So does my father."

  "Does he think all you do?"

  "He suspects you're mage, yes, and he knows the boy has talent. He knows you mindspeak. He also wondered about Jaim from the first. He found him too alert to be such an old man." Autoc gave a low laugh.

  "He'll be mortified!" There was an answering laugh from Choja, who was busy brushing sand from his talma. He glanced up at the tall mage.

  "It's the boy who seeks Ice Isle, isn't it?"

  "Aye, it is. He must do so."

  "Are you his father, Schol?" Autoc didn't hesitate.

  "Yes, he's my son."

  "We'll accompany you," whispered Choja.

  Autoc put a hand on the tribesman's shoulder, saying gently, "You can't, Choja." Choja stiffened. "It's nothing to do with trust, my young friend. Even there I'll be limited in what I can do. The boy must experience Ice Isle alone, though he doesn't know this yet, nor is he ready to know. Time will pass and he'll know what's required of him. He'll sense it as a compulsion, but I'll be there for him." The mage took his hand from Choja's shoulder.

  "His is a lonely path in many ways, isn't it, Schol?"

  "Aye, Choja, it is." Autoc added sadly, "They all have such grief and pain to endure."

  Choja didn't understand the mage's last words, but he picked the sadness in the voice and remained quiet. Finally he moved out in front of Autoc, saying, "We'll go with you as far as you wish, Schol. You tell me when it's time for you to go alone again."

  "I'll tell you," promised Autoc, "but know that your company's very welcome. We've come to care for you all." As Choja turned from him, Autoc asked curiously, "Why did you bring Jochoh?"

  "For two reasons, Schol. A boy's an easy target for an angered rival – Jochoh, too, has his future. It may also be that the day comes when a man and a boy can be followed, while a mage and his son slip away."

  "You're far-seeing, Choja." There was a note of deep respect in the mage's voice.

  "My father taught me very well, Schol."

  "I can see w
hy he's Sophy," came the amused reply, "and why you, Choja, are a worthy Sophysun. I can even feel pity for any who oppose you."

  "So can we," was the grimly humorous response before Choja walked noiselessly away and left Autoc with much to think about. He sat in the sand and remained motionless and thoughtful for a long time.

  ~~~

  Their travel over the following weeks was mostly by night when it was a mite cooler. To travel by day was unbearable. The sweltering heat made the mage feel queasy - not even the tribesmen wished to be exposed to the raw heat of midsun. They sank to the ground and rested while the heat shimmered on undulating dunes that stretched beyond eyesight. It was too bright to stare at.

  The oases they stopped at were blessings, though Choja would only let them stay long enough to rest the horses and refill the water skins. If food could be bartered, it was; if not, they relied solely on what Choja permitted Jaim to cook. Their fare wasn't rich, but it was very tasty and certainly nourishing. Choja made sure they all drank regularly and often.

  The oases were tiny settlements of mud-brick, beehive houses that were huddled together under leafing canopies of green. They were mostly resting places for the nomadic tribesmen who owed no one allegiance, except, Autoc noticed, they knew Choja and obviously respected him considerably, because they offered him small tokens when he went among them.

  The nomads looked askance at the three travellers, but when they realised they weren't threatened in any way, they began to talk in a similar guttural tongue spoken by both the Churchik and the tribesmen. Autoc watched the interaction with interest, realising that these nomadic people were not that far removed from Choja himself.

  The nomads were highly expressive and garrulous folk compared with the tribesmen who were taciturn and mostly silent, nomadic voices rising and falling. There was much gesturing and hand clapping as well. When they gesticulated, the nomads shook or nodded their heads like puppets.

  They were a tall race but extremely thin and wiry, with hair of an unremarkable brown, but with eyes as vividly and deeply green as Choja's. There was a wide age range among them too, and they were invariably accompanied by their women and children. At one oasis Autoc saw a very elderly man among a group of much younger nomads. It was clear that among these people age was venerated.

  As Choja had said, Chlorien was a part of the desert. She wore the talma with the short tunic that all desert boys wore, and she went everywhere bare-foot. Only the dark curls escaping her skifi showed she wasn't a tribesman's child.