The Farseekers

by Isobelle Carmody

  'Knees tight or you will be off the first time I stumble.'

  The first hours were punctuated by Gahltha's staccato instructions. He made no comment to me except to give me orders. I had the feeling he was enjoying every minute of my discomfort.

  The rain continued throughout the remainder of the day, drumming steadily on my oiled coat and on the roofs of the caravans.

  The weather was so bleak that we passed into the realm of Blackland storms almost without noticing. The last time I had passed the stretch of poisoned ground, I had been coming to Obernewtyn for the first time, filled with apprehension for the future. Now I was leaving, still full of apprehension.

  We passed the area without mishap, and soon after left the main road for the White Valley. Fortunately vegetation and undergrowth were sparse, or the carts would have been useless.

  I felt Jik clumsily seeking entrance into my thoughts. 'Will the caravans be able to go through the Olden way?' he asked.

  'Pavo thinks so. The Olden way was once an important Beforetime thoroughfare,' I sent.

  'Why doesn't anyone else know about it?' Jik wondered. 'I never heard any of the priests up here mention it, and I never saw it on any of the maps.'

  The question had also occurred to me. 'Pavo says it is probably because there has been no need of it. People prefer to travel the main coast road through the towns. And no one much uses the White Valley. The Highlanders believe it to be haunted.'

  When night fell, it was still raining. After a hasty conferral, we decided to go on as long as we could, since it would be impossible to make a proper camp or cook in the sodden valley.

  To my surprise, Gahltha was the one to call a halt, saying the horses pulling the cart needed to rest. I was surprised at his consideration, then reminded myself this was for horses, not humans. But I was glad to stop just the same. Climbing down from his back stiffly, I was convinced every bone in my body was fractured and wondered if it could possibly be any worse to ride bareback.

  Relieved of the hated trappings, the horses wandered off to graze, untroubled by the rain. Domick and I hung our soaking oil cloaks under a thick-leafed Eben tree in the hope that they would dry by morning.

  We all climbed in one carriage to talk. Darga had jumped out the moment the cart stopped, even so it was too cramped to change my damp clothes so I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.

  'We might as well close th' flaps an' keep out th' night air,' Matthew said, untying the strings.

  Kella had lit two candles in shielded sconces and the interior of the van glowed dimly in the flickering light. It warmed up quickly with the flaps closed and i felt myself drifting off to sleep watching Jik and Kella prepare a simple nightmeal. I felt so tired it was an effort to eat, but Kella insisted.

  I tried to shift my position but my legs seemed to have set in their riding position. Laughing, Kella produced a strongly scented green paste which she promised would ease the muscle strain.

  I sighed regretfully at the thought of my favourite chair in front of the turret-room fire. Jik interrupted my weary daydream to ask why he had been included on the expedition.

  I had imagined Dameon had provided some plausible reason, but it appeared he had left it to me. Trying to give myself time to think, I asked Jik why he had not asked Dameon himself.

  He shrugged diffidently. 'Lina and the others kept saying how lucky I was. I thought somebody would tell me why some time.'

  I nodded, knowing I could not burden him with the true reason. 'Your knowledge of Herder Lore was the deciding factor. We know so little about the Priesthood. They seem to be growing stronger and more powerful. You might well be able to keep us from making some obvious mistake. And, of course, there is your knowledge of Sutrium.'

  Jik frowned. 'I was only there two days. And novices are the lowest of the low. I don't know any more than you would know,' he added in a troubled voice.

  I patted his arm reassuringly. 'Don't worry about why you're here. Just concentrate on remembering everything you can about Sutrium and the Herder Faction.'

  I heard squelching noises outside just as Gahltha's cold probe slid into my mind.

  I pulled aside the flap and looked into his dark, wet face, almost invisible in the night. Directly behind him, Avra was a pale blur.

  'What is it?' I sent, matching his brevity.

  'There are fresh equine tracks nearby, less than a day old. Funaga rode the equines. Avra found the tracks,' Gahltha sent. 'They travelled the opposite way to us, making for the main road.'

  'Maybe someone else uses the Olden way,' Jik said when I told the others.

  I sent a questing thought on an unshielded beam to Avra. 'Do you know how many funaga there were?'

  'More than here, two times more than here,' Avra sent, shy as Gahltha was arrogant. I bit my lip. That meant double our number - as many as twenty. I felt suddenly cold remembering Louis's words about the Druids. Louis, too, looked thoughtful.

  We had been incredibly lucky to miss the riders, but that did not solve the question of where they had come from. There were no mapped villages in the White Valley. Louis said the Highlands were full of small settlements unknown to Council mapmakers, made up of people who wanted to be free of Council domination without openly opposing them.

  'Perhaps this is such a settlement,' he offered without conviction.

  'Riders do not have to indicate a settlement. Perhaps they were hunting,' Gahltha sent.

  I shook my head slowly. I did not think anyone would hunt in the White Valley. 'We'll stay the night here and go at dawn.'

  I asked Gahltha to warn Darga and the other horses to keep an eye out for any sign of funaga that might give us a clue about why they had been in the White Valley. Then I dropped the flap, shutting out the bleak night.

  'He doesn't like you,' Jik said in puzzled wonder.

  I nodded wryly. 'Gahltha was badly abused by his old masters. I don't think he likes any human.'

  'But it's different at Obernewtyn. No one would hurt him there,' Jik said indignantly. 'It's not fair for him to blame us.'

  I smiled gently. 'Not much in life is fair.'

  I realized Jik had not been able to hear Gahltha, but had sensed the dislike as an emotion. That seemed to be a new use of empathizing, or perhaps a new Talent. I made a mental note to tell Dameon, when we returned.

  'What do you think they were doing here?' Kella asked.

  'I don't know,' I said. 'But if they are in hiding, they won't want to see us any more than we want to stumble into their midst, if it is a settlement. I'm going to farsense our route. If there is any sign of a settlement, we'll change course and bypass it.' I closed my eyes.

  For a moment I was half mesmerized by my own exhaustion and the monotonous sound of rain on the canvas roof of the caravan. I forced myself to concentrate and then my probe was flying swift and low along the path we planned to take. I touched briefly on the minds of various nocturnal creatures, but found no human mind. At one point I was startled when a cloud of shadowy birds rose, flittering and shrieking indignantly, disturbed by my questing. Finding nothing, I came back along the same path, swinging out on both sides.

  My probe brushed briefly along the static barrier on the fringe of the Blacklands, then I went back further towards the road, along the banks of the Suggredoon. I was surprised to realize we were less than an hour's ride from the river. We planned to follow the Suggredoon down to where it disappeared underground at the foot of the lower ranges. Not far from there we would find the Olden way.

  Making a last sweep of the area, I encountered a numb area. I tried to penetrate it, but it was like trying to see in a blinding snow storm.

  Defeated, I withdrew and opened my eyes.

  'Are you all right?' Matthew asked.

  'Did you find anything?' Domick asked.

  I told them the result of my farsensing. 'It sounds like Blackland static,' Matthew said.

  'It was like that, but denser and cloudier, and in the wrong spot,' I said. 'Maybe i
t was tainted water - that feels different but still gives off static.'

  'But no settlement,' Domick persisted.

  'I couldn't sense even a single person, let alone a settlement,' I said, feeling relieved. 'I think Gahltha must be right. Maybe it was a hunting party.'

  Matthew looked doubtful. 'I dinna think anyone would come here to hunt. T'would be like takin' midmeal in a graveyard. Maybe it were soldierguards lookin' for escapees?'

  I chewed my lip. 'It wouldn't be possible to have a machine that would create that kind of blocking static, would it?' I asked.

  Pavo looked thoughtful. 'That would mean someone had found a way to modify a Beforetime machine. The Zebkrahn took years to modify - first Marisa then Alexi and then the Teknoguild worked to change what seems to have been no more than a thing originally devised to measure brain waves. I doubt it could happen again. Besides I think you would know if it were a machine.'

  'It must be some sort of poisoning then,' Domick said dismissively.

  It was a cold night. I slept restlessly, dreamed of running through dark tunnels and woke with the feeling that I had forgotten something important. After racking my brain, I pushed the nagging feeling to the back of my thoughts.

  Pulling the flap aside, I was delighted to find sun streaming through the tree-tops. The others stirred in the blaze of light, blinking and groaning. The ground was soaking wet, and there was no question of lighting a fire, but it was lovely to stretch our legs and walk around. I was very stiff but suspected I would have been worse without Kella's healer wizardry.

  Gahltha and the other horses emerged from the trees as we were finishing a scratch firstmeal. Darga accepted a bowl of milk with a polite flap of his tail. We tied the oilskins which were still wet on top of the caravans and washed our faces in a streamlet. Domick worried that the water might be tainted but Darga pronounced it safe. He had an acute sense of smell, and could tell when water was bad.

  We set off far more cheerfully than the previous day. I felt happier, despite Gahltha's insistence at my riding bareback. Mounting him was an awkward debacle because my legs were too stiff to flex easily. But once up, I felt more comfortable than I had on the saddle, though less secure.

  The sun shone in a golden autumn way, and Jik played a jaunty harvest song on his gita, accompanying himself in a surprisingly sweet singing voice. Even grim Domick appeared to enjoy the impromptu concert, and the horses perked their ears as if they liked the sound.

  Later, I listened to a communication between Darga and Avra about funaga. I was amused to hear their interpretation of human parenting but Gahltha snorted loudly at Avra's observation that children seemed less dangerous than grown funaga.

  'You do not know anything about the funaga and their ways,' he told her icily. 'They are all the same. I have been beaten savagely by a funaga child who laughed at my pain and jeered when I bled. Like poisoned ground, funaga bear poisoned fruit.'

  I shivered at the venom in his voice.

  Gahltha's pace quickened after that. On a flat stretch he broke without warning into a trot and I promptly fell off. My only consolation was that the wet ground was soft. My anger made no impression on Gahltha, who insisted that I would not have fallen if I had been gripping with my knees the way I was supposed to. Louis laughed uproariously, and though the others restrained their amusement, my next fall sent them all into gales of laughter.

  I kept my temper with difficulty, realizing Gahltha wanted to goad me. And, also, I knew he was right, however sarcastic he was. I had been sitting lazily.

  By the time we stopped for midmeal I was covered in mud. It was not worth changing, so I merely washed my hands and face to eat. The afternoon was worse than the morning despite my forlorn hope for an easy walking pace. Gahltha decided I must progress to riding at a gallop. Again pride kept me from protesting that he was progressing too quickly.

  So we cantered and galloped, and when the wagons moved too slowly for Gahltha, he would ride ahead, then turn and ride back. By late afternoon I was beginning to feel the rhythm of his movements, and understanding that knowing and feeling the rhythm was the main part of riding, apart from balance. Once or twice I even found myself enjoying the speed.

  We had been travelling parallel to the Suggredoon most of the day but after midmeal, the river broadened suddenly, swollen from the night's rain. The undergrowth thickened too, slowing the caravans to a walking pace. Avra went slightly ahead with Domick seeking the easiest path for the caravans. Later Gahltha and I took over, leaving Domick free to range farther ahead.

  We hoped to reach the foot of the mountains before nightfall, but Domick returned just as the sun fell behind the mountains. One look at his grim expression told us his news was bad.

  'I found the place where the Suggredoon goes under the mountains, but I couldn't find any pass. We went a fair way up from the river, but there was nothing. It looks like the Land has changed, blocking off the pass,' he reported glumly.

  'The opening could be aslant so that you would have to be coming from the other way to see it,' Pavo said.

  'I hope you're right,' Domick said. 'But that's not all the bad news. Just ahead there are great patches of swamp and wetlands. The wagons won't have a hope of going through, and it will take days to go round.'

  There seemed no point in pushing on in the darkness. We decided to make camp on a high, grassy knoll beside the Suggredoon.

  Louis, Jik and Matthew went to forage for dry wood while Kella organized nightmeal. Domick unharnessed the horses and checked the wooden wheels for 9tress cracks. Pavo was sitting near the wagons poring over his maps.

  I went to bathe in the river, but just as I reached the edge of the clearing, I heard Kella and Domick begin a heated argument. Sighing, I turned back. The last thing we needed was guild rivalry.

  Before I could intervene, Pavo broke into a violent fit of coughing. Kella stared at him for a moment, then went over commanding him to open his mouth.

  'Don't be stupid, I swallowed a fly.' He laughed and waved her away. But Kella's face was deadly serious.

  'What is it?' Domick asked her.

  The healer ignored him and laid a hand over Pavo's thin chest. The smile faded from Pavo's face and, suddenly, I felt frightened.

  'Why didn't you tell anyone?' Kella asked in a subdued voice.

  Pavo smiled sadly. 'What good would it have done, eh? I don't need a healer to tell me what the matter is.'

  'Rushton would never have let you come, if he had known,' Kella said.

  Pavo turned away abruptly. 'Don't you think I know that?'

  'What is it?' I asked, coming back into the clearing.

  Kella looked at me bleakly. 'The rotting sickness. It's in his breathing.'

  'Are you sure?' Domick asked.

  'It's not hard to feel, once you know. And the coughing is always a sign. There's nothing I can do for him. Nothing,' she added flatly.

  Pavo still had his back to us, rigidly unmoving.

  'You'll have to . . .' I began.

  'No!' The mild teknoguilder whirled, eyes ablaze. 'I won't go back. You said yourself there's nothing to be done. I accept that, but I'll go the way I want. I won't be a problem. Tell them,' he demanded of Kella.

  She nodded. 'He'll cough and there will be bouts of pain. He won't be affected badly until near the end - three or four months . . .'

  I gaped. Pavo stared into my eyes, his own pleading and determined at the same time. 'You will need me to get to the library.'

  I wished Rushton were there to decide, instead of me. After a long moment, I nodded and Pavo's shoulders slumped visibly as if he had been holding his breath.

  'Thank you,' he said.

  I felt tears in my eyes and was relieved to see Matthew and Jik arrive, laden with dry wood. Jik froze and stared about him, sensing the tangle of emotions. I sent a quick shielded instruction to Matthew, and he began to make a fire, diverting Jik's attention.

  We slept inside the caravans again because of the sodden ground, b
ut left the flaps open for fresh air. Obernewtyn seemed very far away.

  Near dawn, I was jolted awake by Domick poking his head into the wagon.

  'Quick, there are people coming, men,' he hissed urgently.

  I farsensed the area and almost fainted with horror. There were at least a dozen men approaching the clearing. 'It's too late to escape. You get away. I'll send the horses away and contact you once I find out what this is all about. I'll farsense Gahltha to find you. Quickly,' I whispered.

  He nodded, melting silently into the grey, pre-dawn shadows.

  My heart thundering, I farsensed Matthew and Jik, warning them to let me do any talking. I wondered what sixth sense had woken the coercer even as I farsensed the horses, urging them away.

  Our only hope, I knew, was to be taken for the gypsies we appeared to be. I cursed my stupidity in not taking better precautions after Avra had found the tracks.

  'Ho. What have we here?' called a gruff voice. I leaned out of the caravan. Three men stood in the open, illuminated by the dying embers of the fire. Behind them, the dark sky showed pink and grey traces of the dawn. I sensed the other men waiting in the bushes.

  'Who are you? What do you want?' I shouted.

  'Gypsies,' sneered one, a fat, bristle-bearded man with a great pouting stomach and pale glistening eyes.

  'Perhaps,' said the voice which had first hailed us. It belonged to a muscular young giant with ginger hair. The third man was frail and unlike the other two, clad in a long, fine woollen gown much like the garb worn by Herder priests. I was terrified that we might have fallen into Herder hands. I prayed the priest would not recognize Jik, and hurriedly warned him not to draw attention to himself. With his dark skin, dyed hair and gypsy clothing, he did not look much like the Herder boy we had rescued.

  'Who are you to be waking us in the middle of the night?' I demanded. Gypsies were not known for their

  'Get out of those wagons, all of you!' snarled the black-bearded man.

  This is a funny time to want your palm read,' I grumbled. 'If you mean to rob us you'll be disappointed.' I climbed out and put my hands on my hips as the others followed. I watched the man in the robe closely, but he did not seem to recognize Jik. 'Well, you have us all out. Now what?' I asked.