“What if one were to take the direct route to the River Road, cross the river, and then head southeast?” he asked. “Eventually, you’d have to stumble on the South Road.”
“Of course you would, but why would you want to do it?” Karl asked. “Are you planning a journey to Gort?” he added sarcastically.
“No. I simply want to explore a bit of unfamiliar terrain. Who knows when the knowledge might turn out valuable.”
Karl drew in a long breath through the mouth—a gesture that always stopped conversation.
“It’s not our quadrant, remember.”
“I remember that fact very well,” John replied. “But I also remember a Council meeting last winter when the Southeast Family complained they had too much land to oversee. No one suggested we redistribute the assignments, but we agreed there should be more overlap.”
“Yes,” David said. “Checking out the South Road, Zoë and I were following the Council’s recommendation. And I think it was good advice. The Southeast Family has a base near Hexam. That’s why they spend little time at the bottom of their quadrant.”
“Living so close to Bridgetown, they have other men to do their work for them,” Karl said. “I wish we had it so easy. Any fool can see that they’re only making excuses in order to avoid contact with the Brotherhood. They’d be more than happy if we assumed the dangerous part of their assignment.”
“It’s not that at all,” David said. “Why do you always think the worst of people?”
“Because you invariably give them more credit than they deserve.”
Karl turned to John.
“When do you propose to undertake this journey of discovery?” he asked.
“Soon. I thought Jon and I could go. It would be good training for him.”
“What about me?” Zoë asked. “Weren’t the three of us supposed to make a trek together?”
John glanced at Jon.
“Yes, but you and David just came back from the South Road. I assumed you’d be uninterested in returning to the same area.”
Zoë refused the hint.
“But we didn’t go the way you’re proposing; we kept on the two roads. It would be different to explore the hills across the river. I’ve seen them at a distance, but never up close. And if Karl is right and there’s possible danger, having a third person might prove important.”
She was an adult now. Zoë had marked her eighteenth birthday at the Mountain House. Jon has been surprised at how much fuss was made over the occasion. Wearing a new suit of clothes, she’d stood in the middle of the dining hall while one toast after another was drunk in her honor. In theory, she could now have journeyed alone to where John was proposing to take him, although she had yet to undertake an overnight trek by herself.
Klei looked sympathetically at Jon. Zoë may have refused the hint, but Klei understood the situation.
“Then of course you should come,” John told his sister. “The more the merrier.”
How easily John had acquiesced to Zoë’s request! Surely he could have invented another reason for putting her off. But, if it wasn’t to be Jon and John, then Jon saw no reason not to add a fourth member to the party. Besides, Zoë was making a special effort to teach Klei to be a Forester. Jon questioned her motives. Was she trying to prove she could mould the most unlikely materials into a man in green? But, if she was devoting her attention to Klei, she might leave John and Jon to their own devices.
“If he’s up to it, maybe Klei could come, too,” Jon said.
“I’d like to, if I wouldn’t slow the rest of you down.”
“You won’t slow anyone down,” Zoë assured him. “You crossed the Boundary Mountain by yourself didn’t you? There’ll be nothing that difficult where we’re going. And you’ll have a great time. Just stick with me.”
What was it about Klei that brought out this side of Zoë? Some quality Jon himself must have lacked.
▲
The plan seemed settled, but John said nothing further about the journey. Instead, he spoke of the coming trip to Bridgetown as if he intended no other travel that summer. John had assumed the task of training Jon in self-defense and used it as an excuse for them to slip out of sight together. Jon wondered if anyone beside Klei noticed their disappearances. Klei never appeared to be watching them, but Jon was certain he knew everything. It was uncanny—and annoying.
When Jon raised the subject, John made no bones about his second thoughts about the trek across the river.
“It was an excuse for us to be alone. But what’s the point if we have to bring Klei and my sister? Especially because of the way Klei looks at you. He’s crazy about you. I wouldn’t have noticed that before, but I see it now.”
“Don’t be absurd. Klei’s just grateful, that’s all. I told you what happened, and that was about the only time I’d ever spoken to him until he came here. The boys in different cabins have little to do with one another. There’s no rule, but that’s the way it is.”
“Don’t fool yourself. But who could blame him? For me, it was love at first sight. And now both of us are infatuated with you—there’s no way around it. But he’d better keep his hands off you. You’re my boy.”
From anyone else, this talk would have been ridiculous—or infuriating. He was nobody’s boy, but John was irresistible.
Nevertheless, it was natural that Klei understood Jon better than any of the Foresters did—including John. John said that they were alike, and they shared interests like reading and travel. Moreover, you couldn’t ignore the physical resemblance that made them appear brothers. But John joked when Jon was serious, and he enjoyed company when Jon relished solitude. In truth, Klei was more like him. One would open his mouth to ask a question and the other would answer it before he’d uttered the first syllable, while with John, Jon had to explain himself in detail. But he loved John because he was different and because he’d come to realize that John needed him. He couldn’t imagine Klei needing anybody. He was like Jon in that respect, wasn’t he? Except that Jon needed John.
Jon was sure he had no reason to be jealous of Klei. John showed him no special attention—and that surprised Jon, for Klei was incredibly beautiful, especially when he smiled. If you were trying to imagine a supernatural being, you couldn’t do better than Klei—part boy, part girl, like a creature from another planet or the emissary from a divine being.
▲
Two days later the foursome set out on their journey. By the time they reached the River Road, the sun was hot and the air sultry. Descending to the riverbed, Zoë made a point of obliterating their tracks, smirking at Jon as she did so. She’d never thanked him, but he knew she was grateful for his silence about her oversight last year. And wasn’t it out of such small understandings that human relationships were built?
The water was higher than last summer, but still divided into separate streams. Clumps of red flowers were blooming on the islets and flocks of small white butterflies hovered over the sand. Jon identified the flowers as red eyes, although, unlike the red eyes growing at higher altitudes, these had thick stems and large blossoms. Peter had said that the roots were good for making tea, but Jon doubted it was a good tea, since he’d never known the Foresters to brew it. Peter had also told him to look for peerlits, but he’d said nothing about the white butterflies. Strange, how obsessed he was with those birds.
“The peerlits won’t be breeding yet,” he’d explained. “But they never get far from the river. They eat the fry that gather in shallows and the yellow snails that eat algae in the gravel. Wherever there are peerlits, you’ll see fragments of snail shell.”
So, once they reached the river, Jon had looked for peerlits and saw what he thought might have been one, but he wasn’t sure. However, he did find some of the snails, as well as fragments of yellow shell, so if Peter asked he’d have something to report.
John leading, they waded through the water, scrambling up the east bank without difficulty. The distance wasn’t great, but the differen
ce was striking, for the river formed the boundary between unique landscapes. Trees grew less thickly on the east bank, perhaps because the soil was poorer; and they thinned as the party advanced eastward. They’d found no trail, but the way was easy—a long, gradual incline. At the crown of the first hill, trees gave way to grass; and, looking ahead, they saw row upon row of similar hills, each higher than the last, all covered in pale green, with a scattering of scrubby trees on their lower slopes. Jon liked this land better than the forest, for the air was sweet, and flowers grew among the grass, attracting bees and other insects. Here the world seemed larger, and he loved its openness to the sky.
They camped that night in a small valley next to a stream where the sounds were new—strange birdcalls high above them and the whisper of wind in the long grass, and far away the call of an animal Jon couldn’t identify. John pulled Jon closer to him, and Jon felt safer than he’d ever felt before in his life. He was with the man he loved, and he could imagine no better friends than Zoë and Klei. In the Valley of Women, he’d always been on guard, but now he had nothing to fear. And in this mood he passed into easy sleep.
▲
They continued their journey at dawn, now using the direction of the sun to guide them. The wind, still light, had shifted from west to north, and the second day was hotter than the first. When they could, they kept to the bottoms, where trees provided shade and geology brought the possibility of water. Still, Jon loved it when they reached the crest of a hill where, despite the blazing sun, a breeze blew and a new vista stretched before them.
“We should be close to the South Road,” John told them several hours after their midday pause. He knew exactly what he was doing, Jon thought. And this extraordinary man, whom everyone looked up to—whom everyone couldn’t help but love—loved him; and their lives would be one life forever.
“Climbing up and down makes it difficult to estimate the straight-line distance we’ve covered,” John said. “But, as I calculate it, the road should appear over the next hill or two, and then we’ll have an easy stroll back to the river.”
“Making a triangle,” Jon said.
“Yes, a triangle, and we’re on the last leg of the hypotenuse.”
Strange, the way memory works. Jon would always remember that phrase Yes, a triangle and his sense at that moment that the world was within his grasp. After all, didn’t he know exactly what John meant by hypotenuse?
When they reached the top of the next hill, no road was visible, but below a dry streambed led to the South.
“We’ll follow that,” John said, and downward they went.
Yet the streambed proved difficult. As the gorge deepened, bushes and small trees grew thick, and they encountered places where their feet sank unexpectedly into mud, for the streambed turned out to be less dry than it had first appeared. However John remained confident, assuring them they’d reach the South Road by late afternoon.
“At most, it’s only a few miles further,” he said.
John fell back to walk with Jon, allowing Zoë to assume the lead, with Klei not far behind. But then Zoë stopped and appeared to be listening to something. She waited for the others to reach her before speaking.
“I hear horses,” Zoë said softly. “John was right—we’re near the road and there are riders on it.”
They stopped and listened, and soon became aware of what had caught Zoë’s attention. Jon heard the neigh of a horse, and then voices.
“Keep as quiet as you can,” John whispered.
With that warning, he led them forward. The voices now sounded contentious. John crouched behind a juniper and signaled for them to keep low.
“Listen,” he said softly.
There was laughter, followed by a half-stifled scream of pain, and then more laughter. Edging forward, they saw the South Road below them. Unlike the River Road, it was unpaved, but not far ahead, where it crossed the streambed they’d been following, a stone bridge spanned the water, which here joined another stream from the East that followed the road. Beyond this bridge, men on horseback were watching others on foot. Jon recognized them at once. The riders were Brotherhood and those on foot were boys from the valley, now dressed in the faded black clothing of their new masters. They had circled a single boy and were looking back at the older men.
One of the riders spoke in a loud voice.
“What are you waiting for? Show your friend what you think of someone who talks back to his betters. You want this to be a learning experience for him, don’t you?”
The other men laughed and cheered. One repeated the phrase learning experience gleefully.
“Show your stuff, boys,” another shouted.
“Yes, we want to see who the real men are,” said yet another. “No girls allowed in the Brotherhood.”
At that, the boys began striking the boy in their midst, who tried to ward off their blows and then crumpled to the ground, shielding his head.
“Don’t let him save his skin by pretending to be hurt. You know that trick, and use your feet, not just your fists.”
The boy under attack had red hair. He could only be Alf. Remembering what the Brothers had done to Tug, Jon knew he couldn’t let that happen to his one friend in the Valley of Women. He leapt up and bounded down the hillside.
“Wait,” John called out, but then, realizing that Jon hadn’t heard him, he followed, running to catch up with Jon. Klei looked to Zoë, but she was as startled as he was.
“What Jon and my brother are doing makes no sense,” she said. “There are too many, and the men are armed and on horseback. It makes no sense.”
As they watched, Jon and John waded into the boys, striking left and right. The boys backed away, looking to the horsemen for support. Jon helped Alf get to his feet. He was bleeding from his head and arms. At a signal from their leader, the horsemen charged on the three figures with swords drawn. One hacked at John, who dodged, only to be struck by another rider.
Zoë took Klei’s hand and held it fast. Both of them were holding their breath.
Once John fell, the riders stopped. Jon was kneeling beside John, speaking into his ear; John moved his lips, but then his head fell to one side. Jon leaned over him, searching for signs of life; then he stood up, looking around in despair. At that, the boys surrounded Jon and pulled him away. One of the horsemen threw them a rope, which they used to bind his wrists. Then they handed the end of the rope to the horseman.
In the confusion, Alf had managed to crawl away from the struggle and was now making his way slowly up the streambed, hiding behind rocks and shrubs. Another rider had dismounted, and was examining John’s body. He rolled it over and laughed.
“Imagine that—one of the Emperor’s high-and-mighty Foresters. Well, the Emperor won’t be able to protect him now.”
He kicked the body with the metal tip of his boot.
“That’s one fewer of the bastards we’ll have to dispose of,” he said. “I hope the rest will be just as easy. The first one I killed put up a fight you wouldn’t believe. But that was years ago. They must have learned reason since then, because this guy took his punishment like a lamb.”
One of the boys ran up and said something to him.
“He’s from the Valley of Women you say? That means he belongs to us. A tall boy like that should prove useful—once he’s learned his manners. Bring him with us, Forka.” He remounted his horse and spoke to the other men. Then they began riding slowly to the West, the boys following on foot behind Jon, pulled by the rope around his wrists. Passing John’s body, he struggled to get away, but Forka quickened his horse. Jon fell and was dragged along for a few yards. Forka paused, pretending to let Jon get to his feet, but moved forward before he’d found his balance, so that Jon fell again. Everyone enjoyed the joke, so he repeated it. But Jon had no intention of standing up again. “Let him walk,” one of the men said, so Forka allowed Jon to stand and the procession continued, disappearing around a turn in the road.
Only then did Zoë and Kl
ei approach John’s body. He had a deep wound in his chest and his eyes stared vacantly to the sky.
“How?” Zoë asked, unable to finish her question.
She closed her eyes, struggling to hold back the tears. Klei understood the depth of her feelings, yet his prime concern was Jon. They had to save him—but how? However this was not the time to speak of Jon. Zoë must have blamed Jon for what had happened. He’d been crazy trying to rescue Alf—although, in an odd way, the rescue had worked.
Zoë took a long breath and opened her eyes. “We have to remove him from this place,” she said. “We can’t leave my brother here like a dead animal. If we were nearer home, we could carry him there—but there’s no way. Still, we have to do something.”
“We can bury him over there.” Klei said in a soft voice. “Not bury him, I guess. We have nothing to dig with, but we can cover his body. The streambed is full of loose stones.”
“Yes, that’s what we’ll have to do—with the biggest, heaviest stones we can carry. I don’t want any animal getting to him. And then we’ll have to find a way to get Jon away from those other animals,” she announced grimly.
It was a relief to hear those last words.
“How can we do that?” Klei asked.
“The Brothers are brutal but they’re also stupid. You saw the way they let the boy they were beating get away. People who forget things that easily can be deceived. See—he’s come back.”
Turning, Klei saw Alf at the side of the road, gazing at them in bewilderment.
“Klei? Is that you?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Will you help me?”
“Yes, we’ll help you,” Zoë answered. “But we need you to help us first. Can you climb up to watch the road while we move my brother? Call out if you see anyone. But just loud enough so we can hear you. Can you whistle like a hawk? You’ve heard a hawk, haven’t you?”
He whistled faintly.
“Well, it will have to be a bit louder than that. But now you know what you have to do.”
Alf climbed painfully to the crest of the hill and looked down while they lifted John’s body and carried it to a spot above the streambed. Zoë picked up a stone and then dropped it at her feet.
The Flight from Kar (The Emperor's Library Page 17
