The Flight from Kar (The Emperor's Library

by Frederick Kirchhoff

  “They may,” Lawrence said. “I know of only one book that tells of anyone sailing in that direction. Vargas the Navigator sailed ten days west of Tarnak to Cape Galdo and then another five south along the coast. According to his report, all he saw there was high cliffs. With nowhere to take on fresh water, he turned back.”

  “But a five-day sail south of Cape Galdo would hardly take you as far south as we are here,” the Emperor pointed out. “Remember, sailing west from Tarnak is really sailing northwest, for the land turns sharply in that direction and Galdo is a considerable distance from Tarnak..”

  “And of course we don’t know how far Vargas sailed in a day’s time,” Jon added.

  “That, too,” Lawrence answered. “Although Vargas made a point of his measurements. Nevertheless we can’t count on the truth of what he wrote, since many of his claims are fantastic and he may have turned back for reasons other than the one he admitted to. Still, you’re talking about a place outside our knowledge.”

  “On the other hand,” Jon replied, “so many have gone over to the Chosen that they must have eyes everywhere by now. Travel anywhere in the central valley will be dangerous. One or two individuals might slip through without notice, but not a group as large as ours.”

  “True, Jon,” Zoë replied. “Your coastal route looks appealing, but you and John were there little more than a day. That’s not much on which to base an important decision.”

  “When it’s a matter of dangers known versus dangers unknown, it’s often thought wise to choose the dangers you know,” the Emperor said. “But I’m not certain this nugget of wisdom applies to our situation. Jon’s way may be dangerous, but the dangers are dangers from nature, not man; and if it proves impassible, we can always turn back. I can’t say the same for an encounter with the Chosen. Once we leave this refuge, we’ll be vulnerable.”

  “There’s one thing I haven’t said,” Zoë told them. “Two of my brothers are dead. As for the third, I don’t know. When I find our mother, I want to be able to tell her what happened to David. Going east, we may find out. Going west, it’s possible we’ll never know.”

  The Emperor paused in thought.

  “I understand Zoë’s feelings. I think we should take the eastern route.”

  Although Jon thought this an unwise decision, he did not press his point. He still had a debt to Zoë. But Zoë herself had an idea.

  “What if I went down and around to the village the way Talis described? I should be able to find someone who’d tell me what happened at the fortress. It wouldn’t take more than a few days.”

  “Then I’ll go with you,” the Emperor said. “It could be dangerous, and you should not go alone.”

  Zoë looked at him in surprise. Didn’t the Emperor realize the impossibility of what he was proposing?

  “No, it’s not a risk you should take,” Zoë replied.

  “I’m not afraid . . .”

  “Of course you’re not afraid. And when the time comes, I’m certain you’ll be ready to put yourself in danger. But this is not the time. What I’m proposing is family business, and I know Mother would be angry if she learned I’d put you in danger.”

  Then, before the Emperor had a chance to reply, Zoë turned to Jon.

  “But you’ll come with me, won’t you, Jon? You once said David was like a brother.”

  Jon didn’t need to think. Of course he’d go.

  The Emperor was clearly troubled.

  “But to risk both of you . . .” he said. “And even if we reach the coast by the pass David found, Jon alone knows the way back the Southland.”

  “The trail John and I took isn’t difficult to locate. I’ll give you and Falco instructions for finding it. And once you enter the Valley of the Foresters, Klei will know the way.”

  He glanced at Klei when he mentioned his name and saw that he was standing next to Marekko.

  “When will you do this?” the Emperor asked Zoë.

  “Tomorrow. We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

  ▲

  As the conference broke up, Jon felt a strong desire to get away from the others. Brushing off Alf, he walked up the path toward the summit, eventually stopping at a sunny place a few feet beyond the spring. He half expected Alf to come trotting after him. And when he heard footsteps, he was sure it was Alf. But instead Klei appeared and sat down next to him.

  It was the first time they’d been alone together for months, and neither spoke for a long time. Finally Klei broke the silence.

  “You’re angry with me for coming here, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not angry.”

  “Yes, you are. I saw you getting rid of Alf. I used to think he was pained by the way you treat him, but then I realized that Alf simply accepts it as one of your inscrutable ways. He’s learned not to bother you when you want to be alone. But I’m not Alf. I came here on purpose to bother you. You spend too much time by yourself, Jon. You and I both know that.”

  Jon looked down at his feet.

  “You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?” Klei asked

  It was an absurd question—of course Jon understood.

  “You act like none of us mean anything to you anymore, and now you’re going off on this crazy mission with Zoë to find out what we all already know—that David and Alice are dead. What else could have happened to them? You remember what the herald said—the life of everyone who served the Emperor was forfeit. Why is it that you’re willing to do anything for Zoë but nothing for me?”

  That question surprised Jon.

  “Have you ever asked me to do something for you, Klei?”

  But Jon didn’t want to give Klei time for an answer.

  “And none of us know for certain what happened to David and Alice,” he continued. “Making a threat isn’t the same as carrying it out, although if they’d known it was David who shot their guy he wouldn’t have stood a chance. It was wrong for David to do that, you know. You’re supposed to respect heralds, even when you despise the men they represent.”

  “David was probably thinking about what we saw in Great Barton—the gleeful cruelty of it all. But I didn’t come here to talk about David.”

  “I owe it to Zoë to help her find out what actually happened. That shouldn’t be hard for you to understand.”

  Suddenly Jon was glad Klei had come. It was time they cleared the air between them.

  “I owe it to her, because of what her brother did for me,” he continued. “John died because I acted without thinking. You were there—you know exactly what happened that afternoon. I owe Zoë her brother’s life.”

  “John died because he was brave, like you,” Klei said. “He died because neither of you could sit by watching what they were doing to Alf. But John’s losing his life doesn’t mean you have to throw away your own. Do you really think that’s what John would have wanted? He was a man who enjoyed being alive. He’d have expected you to do the same.”

  “That’s just talk,” Jon blurted out angrily. “I should have died with John. Since that moment my life has been meaningless.”

  It relieved Jon to have said that. His feelings must have been obvious—especially to Klei—but now he’d spoken about them openly—that should put an end to Klei’s platitudes about turning his back on happiness. But instead Klei went on the offensive.

  “That’s stupid, Jon—plain stupid. It was your idea to save the library, wasn’t it? It makes no sense to say that your life has been meaningless. You’re the only one who had the strength to believe it could be done. The Emperor couldn’t have done it on his own and it wouldn’t have occurred to Zoë. Alf, David, Alice—none of us would have imagined doing anything like that. But you took it for granted we could save the library, and that confidence made it happen.

  “The Emperor counts on you,” Klei continued. “Zoë and Falco are wonderful, but neither can think things through the way you do. And, while Alf is smart about some matters, he hasn’t a clue to others. The Emperor needs you if he
’s to survive. He may not know that himself. He’s begun to believe himself pretty high and mighty. But you and I know it.”

  Jon stood up and walked a few steps away, then turned back to Klei.

  “Why do you think I care if the Emperor survives?” he asked quietly.

  Klei looked up at him curiously.

  “Why else did you do all this for him?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. It just happened. One thing led to another. You were there, Klei. Why are you asking me to explain what you already know?”

  “Yes, I was there, and I’ll repeat what I just told you. It didn’t just happen, Jon. You made it happen.”

  Jon knew he was being perverse. Was it a way to punish himself for what had happened to John? Or was he really trying to punish Klei for Marekko?

  “Do we have to talk about this?” he asked Klei.

  “I think we do. I think we have to talk about this, Jon. I want you to tell me why you just said you didn’t care if the Emperor survives. I have an idea why you might feel that way, but I want to hear it from you in your own words.”

  Klei had never seemed so strong before. Jon found himself filled with new admiration for him yet at the same time determined to resist acknowledging whatever point Klei was trying to make.

  “What makes you think you know me?” he asked.

  Jon was pleased to see that now it was Klei who was unwilling to answer. Without knowing how, he’d backed Klei into a corner.

  “It’s the Forester thing, isn’t it?” Klei replied quietly.

  “It’s the Forester thing? What the fuck does that mean?”

  Klei smiled.

  “It’s their fucking loyalty to the Emperor—how they go on and on about it, or at least how they used to go on and on about it before most of them got themselves killed.”

  So Klei felt that way, too. And that meant he must have seen through Jon’s absurd speech at the mountain house when he spoke about going to the Emperor on behalf of the Foresters. But now, oddly, Klei’s revelation made Jon feel a need to defend the Emperor.

  “But he’s a good man. You know that, Klei. He has his faults, but he’s a good man.”

  “Yes, he’s a good man. And the Foresters are good men and good women—the ones who are left of them. But we’re different from them—you know that, Jon. They don’t understand things the way we do. John did. I’ll never forget how kind he was to me when we met that first time on the trail. That’s why you loved him so much—I saw that—and that’s why you feel the way you do about his death. But it wasn’t the end of the world. You’re still alive and I’m still alive, and we have to find a way to make something of what we have together. We’re helping the Emperor now, but we won’t do that forever.”

  Why was Klei speaking as if he and Jon were connected in some way? They’d scarcely spoken in months—and what about Marekko? Did he think Jon didn’t know what had been going on between them? It must have been obvious to everyone.

  “What’s this we talk, Klei? My life has nothing to do with yours.”

  Jon was glad to see that those words had stunned Klei. He’d wanted to hurt him. It was so much like hurting himself.

  Klei stared him right in the eyes.

  “Do you really mean that, John?” he asked.

  “Yes, I really mean it.”

  “And there’s nothing between us?”

  Jon was stubbornly silent, even though he was almost overwhelmed by what Klei was feeling at that moment.

  “Don’t you see that I need you?” Klei asked in desperation.

  Of course there was something between them. Klei was more like him than anyone else in the world. No one else understood him the way Klei understood him, but Jon had no intention of acknowledging that. Klei wanted him to be happy, but Jon didn’t want to be happy. And he didn’t want Klei to be happy either. If Klei wanted to share something with him, it would have to be sorrow.

  “I once rescued you from some assholes, but that doesn’t mean anything. It was just an accident. Besides, you’re grown up now. You can take care of yourself, Klei. And you can advise the Emperor in my place—if Zoë and I don’t come back. You and Marekko will do just fine.”

  “Advise the Emperor? Are you crazy? Haven’t you ever noticed that the Emperor pays no attention to anything I say?”

  That was true. The Emperor did have a habit of ignoring Klei, but somehow it had never occurred to Jon that Klei himself was aware of it. How could he have ignored something so obvious?

  “When I said I needed you, Jon, I didn’t mean that I needed you to take care of me—I can take care of myself just fine, thank you. I don’t need your help; I don’t need Marekko’s either. There’s nothing between me and him—we’re friends, that’s all. When I said I needed you, I meant that I loved you, Jon. Are you so stupid that you don’t see that?”

  And Jon knew that he loved Klei. He’d never admitted that to himself before, but he admitted it now. However he would never admit it to Klei.

  “Klei, the only person I’ll ever love is John. Do you understand that? You’ll always be my friend—I trust you, I count on you, there’s nobody alive I care about more than you—but you can’t take the place of John. No one can ever take the place of John.”

  Klei stood and walked up to where Jon was standing. He reached out and took his two hands.

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with John, and you know that.”

  Raising himself on his toes, he kissed Jon firmly on the lips. Jon backed away in surprise.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Jon. I’m not going to hurt you,” Klei told him sadly.

  “Have a safe journey, Jon,” he added. Then he released Jon’s hands, turned, and walked away. Jon watched the sunlight glinting on Klei’s yellow hair as he made his way back to the compound. Long ago, Alf had called Jon the most handsome boy in the valley, but surely it was Klei, not Jon, who deserved that title. If things had been different, Jon thought—but then, he reminded himself, things weren’t different and they never would be.

  He was alone; he’d always be alone. Klei had said he loved him, but that was absurd. If he’d loved Jon he’d never have become Marekko’s lover. And, despite what Klei had just told him, Jon was certain that’s what he was. Better to have nothing, he told himself. Better to be nothing.

  As he watched, one of the red-and-black snakes slithered out from behind a rock and made its way into a knot of bloodwort.

  ▲

  “They took them with them. They tied them up and put them into a cart. Both of them were burned—you couldn’t tell how much. He had bandages on both of his hands and one over his eyes, and she had one on her head. They didn’t put up a struggle. They just stepped into the cart and allowed themselves to be taken away. It was eerie the way they were so casual about it.”

  It hadn’t been difficult for Jon and Zoë to find their way to the village. They’d waited in a clump of trees until they saw a woman working by herself in a field. No one else was in sight, and so they went up and spoke to her. At first she was frightened, but then she recognized Jon as one of the men who’d been with the Emperor. He knew at once that she could be trusted.

  “How did you escape?” she asked. “They said there were only two who escaped the fire.”

  “We were never in the fortress,” Jon had explained. “The Emperor had sent us on a mission to the North, where his forces are regrouping. But now that means nothing. When we came back all we saw was a ruin. He must be dead, and all of the others must be dead as well. But you said two people were saved.”

  “If you can call it saved—a man and a woman—both of them tall, with dark hair—although hers was lighter than his. They looked like the two of you, and one of them was dressed in clothes like the ones you’re wearing now. Perhaps you knew them?”

  “Yes,” Jon said. “I think I knew the man and woman you’re talking about.”

  “It’s a miracle they got out of the fire. Where will you go now?”

&n
bsp; “Back to the North. We have relatives there.”

  “I’d invite you to go with me to the village, but they’ve left soldiers with us. Who knows what they’d do to anyone who’d been in the service of the Emperor—especially because they’re angry at having failed to take him alive. I’ve heard them talking about it. That was the idea—to force the Emperor out of the fortress so they could take him back to Kar and lead him in triumph through the city. Once all knew that the Emperor was in their power, no one would dare oppose the Chosen. That was the plan, but the Emperor foiled it by dying like a hero. And now we have no choice but to make the best of our new masters.”

  She pointed to a white and red flag that was flying from a tall pole newly erected in the middle of the village.

  “I won’t tell anyone I saw you,” she added.

  “That would be good,” Jon replied.

  Zoë and Jon had found out what they wanted to know. The tower had collapsed against the rock wall, burying the door under broken stones and charred timbers, and the people believed the Emperor’s remains were buried in the ruin. What else could have happened?

  “Do you want to go further?” Jon had asked Zoë. “We could follow, and see where they’ve taken David and Alice. I’m willing to go all the way to Kar, if that’s what you want.”

  “No. We must get back. David and Alice are still alive. That’s the message I’ll bring my mother—if I ever see her again.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Forced to hack their way up a slope dense with thorns to reach the foot of David’s “pass,” they’d camped on the first level space they’d found. Then, the next morning, they’d spent hours scrambling up loose pumice that split and fell beneath their feet, only to find themselves at the base of a series of jagged ridges, invisible from the valley below.