Then Siaren turned and shuffled off towards the wood again without another word, leaving Istar alone and puzzled. Her companions had disappeared into various tents. She made for the river and located Hallen by his feet protruding from beneath one of the wagons. Tools were scattered about nearby. Istar introduced herself and received no reply.
‘Do you need help?’
‘Hand me my awl if you would,’ said a deep voice.
A large, callused hand appeared and she placed the tool in it. She could hear him breathing and grunting, and the wagon shivered slightly. The silence grew long. She sat down.
‘You broke an axle?’
‘Not on this one.’
There was another long pause.
‘The fitting for the harness has broken.’
‘Ah.’
‘We came over rough ground some days back.’
‘You must mean the borderlands, the steppes.’ She was eager to please the old man – he was a Clan Elder, after all – and her tone sounded young and breathless. He said nothing. She persisted. ‘How long will you stay?’
‘Another day or two, maybe. There is good fishing here, and I won’t push the beasts too much, too soon. We have a long way to go.’
Encouraged by this veritable flood of words, Istar said, ‘How far do you make it from here to the Floating Lands? We are in some haste.’
There was a thump and a muffled cry. Hallen emerged, white hair disarrayed, rubbing his forehead and looking consternated. ‘What do you want with the Floating Lands?’
‘We go there on Lerien’s business. I cannot say more.’ The lie escaped her easily.
Hallen covered his ears; he was a big man, and the gesture looked silly. ‘Ah, I will not hear such foolish reports of Lerien! I thought my grandson had some sense. If he sends you to the Floating Lands, he has lost his wits.’
Istar settled herself on the ground beside the old man. ‘Have you ever been there?’ she asked, and Hallen promptly dived for the underside of his caravan, presenting her with nothing more expressive than a large calf with a sandalled foot to talk to.
‘They are bad places, those islands.’
‘Why? Tell me about them.’
‘No, no. You don’t need to know more than that they are bad luck and to be avoided.’
Istar said, ‘I place little stock in vague feelings. I am on an assignment, and I will not be intimidated by any inanimate object like an island, even if it appears and disappears; even if it sings and dances. I want facts. Hallen, you must tell me all you know of the Floating Lands.’
The wagon shook as he wrestled with something. He coughed and threw a tool out. ‘Chyko was a right bastard. You are the daughter of a daughter-thief and I’m not sure what that makes you. I must think on this before we speak further.’
His tone was decisive. She stood and looked down at his thick, hairy legs. She was thinking that all she wanted was to get to the Floating Lands on time, and it seemed every step of the way she had to struggle to prevent herself from being dominated by someone who thought he knew better than she did. Mhani, Lerien, Tarquin – and now this old man.
‘I’m an outbreed and an Honorary,’ she said. ‘I’ve never had an ounce of privilege. I’ll fight anyone I have to. Anyone.’
He laughed. ‘You favour the left arm. Have it seen to, and get some food in your stomach and some sleep under your ear before you challenge me. Even a fat old man like me has a few tricks you might not know.’
Istar was amazed that he had noticed the way she carried her arm in the few moments when he’d actually been looking at her, and she could think of nothing to say. She was trying to think of a caustic rejoinder when a boy of about fourteen appeared out of the trees, calling Hallen’s name. He paused and swallowed when he looked at Istar, clearly awed at the sight of her weapons and armour. Hallen re-emerged, flushed.
‘Siaren says Istar’s to be given a tent now,’ he said, glancing back and forth between Istar and Hallen as if he didn’t know whom to address. Istar smiled at him, deeply pleased because she was only a few years older than he was and could see that he knew it. She gestured to him to precede her and turned her back on old Hallen. It had begun to drizzle, and she was only too glad to crawl into the tent that had been set up near the cooking fires. Pallo and Xiriel had already eaten and were bickering half-heartedly over dry bedding; outside, children could still be heard squealing in play as the shadows stretched longer. Istar was given fish and wine, which made her eyelids droop and removed all need she might have had to think. She didn’t ask where Kassien was.
‘It’s silly to sleep in broad daylight,’ she muttered as she removed her gear.
‘If you take that attitude, you’ll not rest till the equinox,’ Xiriel countered, rolling himself in a blanket and presenting his back. ‘I for one will sleep for a week, or would if Pallo here didn’t snore like a Fire House.’
She didn’t stay awake to listen to Pallo’s retort.
In the morning, women came to bathe them and clean their clothes. Honorary or not, Istar was taken to a separate tent for propriety’s sake; she didn’t object as she was tiring of the constant company of the others. She knelt in a basin while two girls her own age bathed her; they acted as if they were afraid to look her in the eye, but their voices and hands were extremely gentle, as though she, not they, were fragile. She hadn’t realized quite how rough she’d been living, and even the simple pleasures of warmed water and soap made a great difference. One of the girls timidly asked if she could rebraid Istar’s hair and refresh her Clan paint, to which she agreed gladly. While this was going on, the two girls chatted about inconsequential things, slipping in and out of Bear dialect and giggling softly. Istar began to relax and forget about her troubles. Much clucking was made over the cut on Istar’s arm; the girls behaved as if they were in pain themselves, just looking at it.
Just as she was beginning to feel really fine, Dhien came in to check on her. ‘You should not be using this arm at all,’ Dhien reproached her. ‘From now on you must keep it in a sling. Did you not know that when it is hot to the touch and discharging this way, something foul has got into it?’
‘Of course I know that,’ Istar said, hissing as the woman cleaned the wound, which did truly look awful. ‘I have not had time to concern myself with it.’
Dhien sighed. ‘I will have to speak to Kassien. He can be so stupid about such things.’
‘It is not his to say,’ Istar said, surprised.
‘Oh?’ The Bear woman drew back and the two studied each other. Initially, once Dhien had been out of sight, Istar had entertained the idea that she had only been imagining Dhien to be pretty – that she was, in fact not much better than ordinary. Now, at close range, all such possibility vanished. The chestnut hair, worn long and loose as no Seahawk woman would ever do; the hazel eyes that changed colour depending on the light; the flawless skin and perfect bones – these were undeniable evidence that Dhien was not to be competed with. Luckily, as an Honorary Istar was not meant to compete – or so she told herself as Dhien went on to say, ‘Shouldn’t the leader be responsible for those who follow him?’
‘What makes you think Kassien is the leader?’
‘He told me himself.’
Istar felt her nostrils flaring. ‘What exactly did he say?’
Dhien glanced around secretively. The other girls had left. In a whisper she answered, ‘He said he was leading this secret expedition to Jai Pendu, commissioned by Lerien himself. But have no fear: the secret is safe with me. I will tell no one of your mission.’
Istar was so furious she could not respond. She endured the rest of the consultation, teeth clenched as Dhien prescribed ointments for the wound and bandaged it. Then she went looking for Kassien.
‘I only said it to impress her,’ Kassien said when she found him, not meeting her gaze. ‘Dhien has been holding out on me for years. I thought – well, you know how it is. You should have seen her when she heard we were going to Jai Pendu!’
>
‘You had no right to say you were the leader. Now they are treating us accordingly.’
‘No they aren’t. By the Knowledge, Istar, they are my own Clan. You can’t expect them to ignore me. Anyway, we have always worked as a team. All of us.’
Istar looked into his brown eyes and said, ‘I approached each of you with this plan. I did the research, I made the preparations, I set up the petition to the king, and I made the decision to go ahead even when we were refused. That makes me the leader.’
‘That was never formally decided,’ Kassien resisted. Their eyes fought for a minute; then he swore under his breath, kicked a stone, and said, ‘Damn you, Istar. What are you so uptight about? I can’t believe you’re making such a fuss about something so stupid. It wasn’t a public challenge, it was something I said in bed. You want me to bow down before you and say, “Yes, Istar, I’ll do everything you say”?’
‘No’, she shouted. ‘But you might think twice what you say to civilians in bed.’ She almost choked on the last two words.
‘You know, you don’t have to act so high and mighty. You think you’re Ysse come again, but you’re still only a kid. I’ll tell everyone you’re the leader, all right? Is that what you want?’
Istar opened her mouth to fire another shot, then changed her mind. She had already lost any facsimile of dignity she’d possessed. ‘You’ve made your point. Let’s just forget it.’
He was glaring at her, still clearly game to argue. He gave his head a little shake when he realized she wasn’t fighting any more.
‘Fine.’
‘Fine.’
‘Hallen wants to have a meeting. We were just waiting for you to be finished with your bath. Come.’ He stalked off towards the fire circle ahead of her.
Hallen had become positively loquacious overnight. They all sat on the ground, and he adopted the cross-legged pose of the storyteller. Pallo was still yawning behind one hand, but Xiriel had a look of cagey alertness about him. Istar thought, not for the first time, that he was wasted as a Seer. He had the build and the dark, scowling countenance of a natural warrior, yet seemed to possess no interest whatsoever in combat – or in anything other than the Knowledge. Istar studied his strong bones, his deft hands and the concentration on his face and thought regretfully that such attributes were wasted on Xiriel. He could be a real warrior, one who could easily accomplish feats that someone like, say, Kassien, could manage only with hard effort – and Istar probably not at all. For she was not blind to her own limitations; in fact, the wound on her arm, though superficial, had reminded her of her deficiencies. She had had to work twice as hard as any man to achieve what skill she now possessed, and it rankled with her that Xiriel should have so much unused ability. Yet he loved the Knowledge, and undoubtedly he could appreciate the story Hallen was telling more than any of them. The old man’s deep voice was slow and deliberate.
‘I can make the bees come. I can sleep my way through winter, and I can wait. This is the Bear way. It’s in my bones and blood. But the jewels of the Fire Houses don’t belong to us, and a lake of candles deep in the Earth is no place for our like. We don’t know how to use these things.’
‘We can learn,’ Xiriel said. ‘We can solve the riddles of the Knowledge.’
‘Maybe. But why did the Everiens leave, my Seer? If their Knowledge was so strong, why did they leave it behind? Why did they flee Everien?’
‘Lake of candles?’ Pallo interrupted. The Bear leader cast a tiny censorious glance in the Pharician’s direction, cleared his throat, and resumed the story.
‘You believe,’ Hallen said, ‘that the land is true. The sun, the rain, the hills beneath your feet – these things you are sure you can trust. People are not reliable; they may betray you or be swayed by the Sekk. The land is something else.
‘For almost seventy winters I have watched the snows come over Everien. You know how precious the light gets; when the clouds break and a piece of sky turns gold, all of the upcountry is reborn in a moment. What was flat steps forward. What was grey is coloured. In the silence you can hear the sheep a mile or more below as if they were right beside you. The light will only last a few seconds before the clouds return, and you feel night following everywhere you go. In the upcountry you can see the shapes of the mountains change as the sun backs around them like a courtship dancer.
‘It happened many years ago, even before the Fire of Glass. I had to get a message to Naethen, who had gone to serve Ysse in the Snake Clan territory, far above the treeline. I was on my way back. White Screamers had caused avalanches all along the road by Fivesisters Lake and it was impassable. Despite the snow, I was obliged to make my own way above the line of the road and risk meeting the Screamers or walk into Sekk-Enslaved territory.’
Xiriel nodded. ‘White Screamers would be the preferred evil, I think. They seldom actually attack people.’
‘No. They do not. But I was soon too preoccupied with the elements to even think about the Screamers or the Sekk. There was a storm and I was forced to take shelter in a cave. At first I thought it was a lion’s den, and I was afraid to enter; but there were no markings in the snow, and I was too pressed to use much caution. I went in and rested. After a few minutes my eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, and I probed further back. I wanted to find the far walls, so that I could be sure to be safe from whatever might otherwise come crawling out. After a while I saw light, faintly. I kept going back.
‘A warm breeze began to move and I realized I was emerging into a large underground cavern. I could smell and hear the water. There was a lake, totally still except for the sound of dripping water from the ceiling. A hundred or more vessels of light floated there, each only as bright as a candle; yet in that darkness, they dazzled.’
Istar was scanning her memory for a cave entrance such as Hallen described, but she did not know the area by Fivesisters Lake very well, and if he had mistaken it for a lion’s den, the entrance to the cavern could not have been very large.
‘I went closer. It was warm in the cave; even the water was warm. There must be hot springs there, but at the time it seemed only to me that I had left the world of snow and exposure behind and I was now in a well-ordered place, where I might rest. I knew I had found some refuge of the ancient Everiens.’
‘Were they candles?’ Xiriel asked. ‘Or were they Knowledge-lights?’
‘They were not candles. One of them floated close to the shore, and I went down to the water to get a closer look. It was a simple globe of light, and it floated right into my hand. I looked into it, and someone looked out.’
‘What?’ Xiriel spontaneously jumped to his feet. ‘Where is this place? Take me there!’
‘Calm down, Xiriel,’ said Kassien, gesturing for the Seer to sit. ‘What’s got into you?’
Xiriel subsided, looking embarrassed at his own outburst. Hallen appeared troubled. Silence fell. Kassien stood and pushed Xiriel back to his place around the circle. Hallen was deep in thought.
‘No,’ he answered grimly at last. ‘I was afraid. I didn’t like what I saw inside.’
They waited for him to say what he had seen, but after Xiriel’s question, Hallen seemed reticent again. Siaren leaned over and whispered in Istar’s ear, ‘He is not used to being interrupted. Or challenged. He is an old man, you must understand.’
Hallen said, ‘When I fled that place, I did not exit the cave where I had come in. I came out of the cave expecting snow and ice and wind, but it was not like that. There was ocean, and birds, and I was on one of the Floating Lands.’
He fell silent again. The insight flashed through Istar’s mind: He is hibernating. He shuts down his mind when he cannot cope.
‘Hallen,’ she said. ‘Anything you could tell us, however insignificant it might seem to you, could mean a great deal to us. You may choose to leave Everien, but those of us who remain must cope with the Knowledge.’ She didn’t want to say more; Hallen might react very badly indeed if he knew they were going to Jai Pendu.
The old man shook himself. He began to narrate again, not in answer to Istar’s question, but as though reciting from oral tradition.
‘There was a time when the world was different,’ Hallen said. ‘The Animal ways were strong, and of the many Clans that grew up out of Animal truths, all were rooted in the integrity of the land. Animal spirits moved among us, seen and unseen. The world was alive, and when we pressed our weight on it, it pressed back. When we looked at it, it saw us. When we called to it, it replied. This was before any of us became herders or farmers. Now the land and the animals are dumb and blind, but then all the world was alive, and we were just pieces of it. We died in droves. We remembered only what we needed to remember from one season to the next. We fought over women, but seldom over food, and never over land.’
‘How can you know of such times? Nothing has been written of them.’ Xiriel’s tone was even. It was clear that he was not being taken in by romantic stories.
‘I am old. I know.’
‘But how can you remember these days? You would be the same age as Ysse if she were alive, and when she was young the Clan ways were disintegrating. That was how she was able to unite us.’
‘That is not what I mean when I say I am old. Age is more than an accumulation of years and a slow wrecking of the body. You learn to see and understand more when you get older; life is more precious and so deserves your scrutiny and careful thought. It is not that I can see in the past, but rather that I can see inside the way things are. I can perceive the underlying nature of the world. I am not distracted by bright or elemental things.’
‘You mean the Knowledge.’ Xiriel’s gaze locked with the old man’s.
‘It does not make you as fine and high as you think. There are virtues in the Knowledge; I could never deny this. But it belongs to the Everiens. We are only caretakers of their remains. And we have our own laws and ways, which you children would do well to remember. The day will come when you may need them more than you can now imagine.’
Kassien said, ‘We do remember. We act for our Clans, on behalf of our ancestral ways. But we can’t live in the past. The Sekk are a real threat. We need the Knowledge. These are hard times.’
The Company of Glass Page 29
