“I can see where we’ve been. There’s the village where we asked about the Chosen.”
“I think I can even see the escarpment,” Klei said. Three days of walking and it’s still visible—but not much more than a red line below the horizon.”
“What about the old road?” Zoë asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Jon replied. “I see a break in the trees. If there was a road you’d expect to see something like that, but there could be another explanation.”
“But look up the hillside beyond the trees,” Alf said. “Couldn’t that exposed rock be a cutting? If I were constructing a road I’d build it like the River Road—high enough to escape flooding. There must be seasons when the water is higher than it is now. It floods further south. Why not here?”
“The only way to be sure is to cross the river and examine the old road for ourselves,” Zoë said. “But we don’t have time for that today.”
Turning their attention away from the road on the other side of the river, they examined what else could be viewed from their vantage. Jon was fascinated by the jagged outline of the western mountains. Wherever he went, they followed him. He hoped to catch sight of the pillar of steam he’d once seen rising from one of them. The air was clear enough for distance vision, but today the fire mountain was quiet. Then, as he turned, he saw what he didn’t expect—a cloud of dust on the horizon.
“Look,” he said.
“What’s that?” Alf asked.
“Horsemen. A large group of them,” Zoë responded. “What else could it be? I’m surprised how long it took you and Jon to notice them.”
“But what horsemen?”
“That’s what we need to find out,” she said joyfully. “And we’re fortunate to be at the perfect place. You had a good idea when you suggested coming here, Alf. But lie low. We don’t want anyone seeing us.”
“No one would notice us up here,” Alf said.
“A Forester would—and Foresters aren’t the only ones who use their eyes.”
Finding a site where they’d be inconspicuous, they sat and waited for the troop advancing along the road. As the horsemen drew near, their red and white banners identified them. But this wasn’t the small group who’d gone to meet the Brotherhood. It was a much larger body—twelve hundred ninety-six men, Jon counted, sixteen men riding four abreast at the head of the contingent followed by groups of four by ten. And behind them came the Brotherhood, harder to count because they rode without formation, but at least a hundred strong. Finally, a line of horse-drawn carts and their guards at the rear.
“That makes at least fourteen hundred men. Where do you think they’re going?” Alf asked.
“To Bridgetown,” Jon responded. “Remember what Alice told us about their threats.”
“How many do you think they have?”
“The Bridgetowners?”
“Yes. How many?”
“Few, for the able-bodied are gone now. They can’t have more than two or three hundred defending the town. Remember the fat innkeeper and the old woman? Those are the ones who’ll be up against this army.”
“Then we’ve got to warn the town,” Klei said. “We’ve got to tell Alice and her mother.”
“There’s no way to warn them,” Jon told him. “We’re on foot and they’re on horseback.”
“Couldn’t we run?” Klei asked.
Zoë smiled ruefully. “Yes, we could run. And, for a time we could outdistance them, since they’re traveling no faster than the carts that carry their provisions. But we couldn’t run all day. And what would happen when they caught up with us? We don’t even dare climb down this hill while they’re in the vicinity.
“I know what you’re thinking, Klei,” Zoë added. “I, too, want to help Alice and Margaret, but we have no way to get word to them in time. Once the road is clear we’ll return to Bridgetown. But remember: Our task is to discover what’s going on. In a few hours the first riders will have reached the village. We need to find out what they do there.”
“Perhaps they’ll stop for the night.”
“Perhaps, but the village is too small to provide food or lodging for so many.”
“Still, there’s no better pasture until they climb the escarpment,” Jon observed. “And, having been this way, they’re probably aware of that.”
“As long as the army’s down there, I want to stay on this hilltop,” Alf announced.
“I agree we should avoid the road,” Zoë said. “But I vote against spending the night here—can’t you feel the wind? If we camp at the foot of the hill, we’ll have a head start tomorrow .”
Klei looked at Jon without speaking. Jon saw he was worried about Margaret and Alice and the handful left to defend Bridgetown. How could they hold out against so many?
▲
“We have to be careful,” Zoë said, as they approached the village, but the reminder was superfluous. No sign appeared of the Chosen. Still, they saw evidence of their visit. Their flag now flew from a rooftop, and beneath a window a scrap of red-and-white told the same story.
“What does it mean?” Alf asked.
“Maybe little, but I think we’d better stay clear,” Zoë said.
So they left the road and circled the village, trying to keep out of sight, which was difficult, given the scarcity of trees. And eventually someone did notice them—a woman picking berries. After looking around to see if anyone was watching, she pointed to the village and shook her head.
“I was right. We must avoid the village,” Zoë said.
“Don’t you think it’s important we find out what happened?” Jon asked. “The woman already knows we’re here. What harm could it do?”
“No,” Zoë responded. “It would be risking too much.”
“I’m not afraid.”
Zoë looked at him.
“Of course you’re not afraid. And I’m not afraid either. But what is there to learn? The army’s gone—anyone can see that—but now the village is no longer a friendly place.”
Jon seemed about to say something, but she cut him off.
“I don’t mean it’s a dangerous place. I only mean it’s not worth our time.”
“You’re right,” Jon said. “And if someone saw us talking to her, we might get the woman in trouble.”
▲
Once back on the River Road, signs of the army’s passage were evident. From above, the horsemen had appeared orderly, but now they saw that riders often left the roadway, so they weren’t the organized troop they’d imagined. But no horse strayed far; they were traveling with a purpose.
“They’re on their way to Bridgetown all right,” Alf said.
“And they’re too far ahead for us to reach the city before them,” Zoë announced. What she didn’t say was that, by herself, she could have caught up with the army and passed it, but Alf and Klei and perhaps Jon, too, lacked the stamina for that, and she had no intention of leaving them behind.
“I hope Alice and her mother are safe,” Klei added.
Jon understood his concern; they were fine people. But Klei seemed obsessed with their safety when so much else hung over the Empire. Yet was Jon wrong to think so much about the big picture rather than the fate of individuals? It was hard to know what was really important.
“The walls of Bridgetown are strong,” Zoë replied. “The horsemen may attack, but Bridgetown could withstand a greater force. Our friends are safe—I have no doubt about that.”
Jon and Klei looked at one another; both were thinking the same question.
Did Zoë really believe what she was saying?
After that exchange, they’d replaced the amble of their outbound journey with a steady march and stopped only when necessary. She remained silent, yet Jon knew that Zoë was thinking through the situation in that orderly way the Foresters weighed their options; and, two days later, when they approached the escarpment, she announced a decision.
“The army must have reached Bridgetown by now and laid siege to the North
Gate. Can you imagine another possibility? So following this road will only keep us behind them, but from what we’ve learned, the initial band of the Chosen traveled north along the west bank. If they continued on that way, they may have had reason to avoid crossing the river; nevertheless, I think it’s shallow enough here for a safe ford. They had wagons, remember, while we have no impediments. If we could cross here, we’d find a safe way to the South Gate of Bridgetown.”
“But the Chosen may have found a safe way to the South Gate as well,” Jon pointed out. “If they’re truly laying siege to the town, they’ll have posted troops at both gates. Taking the east bank, you don’t have to travel far to find the river fordable again. We saw that ourselves.”
“But they could also have sent a contingent across the river before they reached the escarpment,” Alf said.
“Alf’s right,” Jon admitted. “Despite appearances, the river may not be safe, Zoë. You can see from the eddies that it’s flowing fast, and, while it looks shallow, we have no idea how deep it is in the central channel.”
Yet even as he voiced his objection, Jon found it odd to be offering it. One side of his brain told him that Zoë’s proposal was reasonable, yet another said that the river was treacherous. It was as if he had a memory of floods and something else he couldn’t put his finger on. Once a disaster had occurred in this place, but how had he known that?
“The river doesn’t look difficult,” Alf observed. “See how smooth the surface looks.”
“It may be more difficult than you suspect,” Jon said.
Zoë looked at him strangely, but Klei took him head on.
“I don’t know what to say, Jon. The river may be dangerous, but we’ll never know without trying. We’ll have to be careful, that’s all. If it gets too deep, we’ll turn back.”
▲
Jon was right. What appeared shallow turned out waist deep and the smooth surface concealed a current that dragged them downstream. Following Zoë’s instructions, they held hands and managed to struggle across, but they’d been carried to a steep and unexpectedly slippery bank. Once they’d managed to climb it, none of the four had energy to do more than lie and rest in the sun.
In the warmth, Jon grew drowsy. He closed his eyes, then, half opening them, he looked down and saw a green beetle crawling across the folds of his shirt. It seemed the only other living thing in the world. Putting his hand across its path, he watched the beetle climb the side of his thumb; then he laid his hand on the ground and allowed the beetle to make its way into the grass. Did the creature realize what had been happening to it? Or did it simply live from one instant to the next?
“Jon’s finally awake,” he heard Zoë say. “It’s time to go.”
“Was I asleep that long?” he asked.
“You had a delightful nap,” Alf observed. “I wish I’d been so lucky.”
“You were asleep, too,” Klei pointed out.
“And so was Klei,” Zoë added. As it happens, I’m the only one who managed to keep awake.”
“Well, if all of us were asleep, as you say, then we’ll have to take your word for that,” Klei responded.
“Are you implying I fell asleep, too?” Zoë asked.
“I’m implying nothing. How could I know what you were doing while I was asleep myself?”
Zoë laughed, joined by the others. Even the flicker of a smile crossed Jon’s face.
“You’re right about that,” she acknowledged. “It’s been a long day.”
“And mow we need to find the road Alice described,” Jon said. “It shouldn’t be far from the river. And it must lead to the crest of the escarpment.”
In fact, what was left of the west bank road was most evident where it climbed the escarpment, not due south like the River Road, but along a diagonal that took them further from the river. When they reached the summit and looked east, they saw a wide plain with the river carving a gash in the landscape. To the West, the line of mountains again reminded Jon of the pass he’d crossed with John. Looking in that direction, he was filled with a heartbreaking sense of loss.
The land before them was covered with thistles and coarse grass, but many riders had passed here not long ago; this had clearly been the way the Chosen had traveled north. Finding a stream meandering down from the western mountains, Zoë decided to make camp here. They had food enough for two more days, but tomorrow they’d return to a populous land.
Jon agreed. “These rocks will shelter us from the wind.” But he soon realized that once again what he’d taken for a natural formation was in fact the remains of a building.
“Here, in the middle of nowhere,” Alf observed. “I wonder who built it.”
“I’d guess the same people who built the road we’ve been following,” Jon replied. “And they probably wouldn’t have called a building by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.”
“But who were they?”
Jon saw that Zoë was watching him. Hadn’t he once had a conversation very much like this with her?
“Alf, you always act like I know everything—but I don’t. Zoë will confirm that. All we know about this road is what Alice told us—that it was here before the River Road. And all I know about the River Road is that it was built by an Emperor hundreds of years ago.”
“Then that would mean this ruin was here before there was an Emperor—or at least before the Emperor who built the road.”
“So it would seem.”
“But who lived here then?” Klei asked.
“Maybe it was the Rand,” Jon suggested.
“That can’t be,” Zoë told him. “The Rand build nothing. They live like animals, not like human beings.”
“But were they always like that?”
Zoë shrugged her shoulders. After what had happened with the Rand the night of Jon’s rescue, she was reluctant to speculate.
Hearing no answer to Jon’s question, Alf proposed they explore the ruin to see what they could learn.
“It’s only a pile of stones,” Zoë said. She obviously thought they had better use for their time.
“If you want to continue to Bridgetown, we can do that,” Jon said. “We don’t have to camp here. The sun won’t set for another hour, and there’ll be light long after that.”
“No. This is a safe place, and tomorrow may prove a difficult day. We should rest while we can.”
“David once told me never to lose an opportunity to explore my surroundings.”
“My brother David says a lot of things.”
”Zoë, there can’t be any harm in our seeing how far this wall stretches,” Jon replied. “We won’t be long.”
In fact, he found himself particularly curious about the building, for it brought to mind the much smaller ruin he and John had discovered at the seacoast. Were they both built by the same men?
Alf had already started off, tracing the edge of the wall. Jon and Klei followed him, but Zoë stayed obdurately behind.
“Tell me what you find, but don’t go absurdly far,” she called out.
Eventually the wall turned and, where they followed it, they found the vestiges of another road, which headed west.
“The building—whatever it was—was built where this road met the road running north to south,” Alf pointed out.
“Could it have been a fortress?” Klei asked.
“Perhaps, but the walls aren’t thick like you’d expect. I was thinking it might have been an inn. A crossroads would be a good location,” Alf said.
“Except that it’s not a crossroads,” Klei noted. “There’s no road going east. It’s a T, not an X.”
“To be sure,” Jon said. “Traveling east, you’d have to descend to where we forded.”
“But we saw no road going further east there,” Alf pointed out.
“We weren’t looking for one. And it wouldn’t have been a road—just the evidence that there’d once been one, and its traces would have been easy to miss where it probably floods regularly. But why would
anyone have gone in that direction? Klei was right to point out that there isn’t a crossroads. The old road from the north runs along one side of the building, and this one heading west starts right here. The only way to get from one to the other would have been to pass through the building itself.”
“What do you make of that?” Alf asked.
“Beats me. Maybe this was a kind of transfer station.”
“Is that something you read about in the Foresters’ library?”
“No. I just invented the term. I’m not sure what it signifies, but it might mean something.” Yet Jon knew he hadn’t invented it. The word had come to him as if he were recalling a term that had passed into disuse.
Alf shook his head.
“Where do you think the west road goes?” Klei asked. “All the way to the mountains?”
“There’s no way of knowing,” Jon answered. “Unless we follow it. But we can’t do that today.”
They’d been following it as they spoke, and it showed no sign of disappearing. Unlike the River Road, straight as an arrow, this road—or at least what remained of it—followed the contours of the rising land.
“We’ve probably come far enough,” Alf said. “Zoë will be worrying.”
He was right, but Jon didn’t want to go back. The place drew him. For the first time since they’d left the Forest House, he was genuinely excited, for here was the strongest evidence he’d yet come upon of the early men. If you discounted the appendix with its legends, none of the books had said anything that explained what he was seeing. But the odd part was the sense that he knew this place. For some reason, it, like the term transfer station, seemed familiar.
“I want to see what lies beyond the next ridge. It won’t take long to climb, and we can turn around when we reach the summit. We have more than enough time.”
He knew there was something he wanted to see on the other side of the next ridge. Yet how did he know that?
“But no further than the ridge,” Alf replied. “You seem a bit crazy about following this road, Jon.”
“I’d like to follow it to the end,” Klei said. “Perhaps the people who made it are still alive in a land beyond the mountains.”
Jon glanced at him. How could Klei know anything about the other side of the mountains? He’d never breathed a word of his secret. Klei must have made a lucky guess—that’s all it could be.
The Flight from Kar (The Emperor's Library Page 23
