The Wraeththu Chronicles

by Storm Constantine

  Presently, Panthera joined me. "You're afraid of the Gelaming, aren't you," he said.

  "Emm. To them I carry the mark of Cain," I answered.

  "And what's that?"

  "It's something that tells me to keep away from them at all cost, if I value my sanity and my freedom."

  "Oh." He thought about this, not sure if he was supposed to have understood my answer. Panthera was much younger than I, of course. He was born of another world, born har.

  "There are stories, other legends, from a long time ago," I said, but then could not continue. The tale was too bleak. Wind sliced my skin; cold to the heart.

  "The past is interesting," Panthera agreed, knowing he'd get no moreout of me. He clambered back down the rock, leaving me to stare out at the endless landscape of gray and white and snow-covered pines, poking rock.

  Several mornings later, we passed through the gateway into Jaddayoth. Totems along the path proclaimed that this was Hadassah territory. Kruin told me that the Hadassah are perhaps the most gregarious tribe of Jaddayoth, and never discourage travelers. "Smell the air!" Panthera cried joyfully, filling his lungs with it. Only seconds before, we had been in Fereng. The air smelled no different to me. I must admit that having Jaddayoth soil beneath our feet did make us feel safer. Slightly. Would Jafit risk pursuing us this far? Was Panthera worth that much to him? How mad was Jafit, how deep his thirst for revenge?

  "I think we should head south immediately," Kruin said. "We can pass through Gimrah. The land is natter there and we'll be able to travel faster."

  "Elhmen might be safer," Panthera said.

  "Hmm, perhaps, but I still don't feel happy about the Fallsend trackers," Kruin confessed. "We got away too easily. Only reaching Jael by the quickest possible route will make me feel safe!"

  We didn't argue with him.

  "Strange, in a way, I hope they do find us," Panthera said, after a while. Neither Kruin nor myself deigned to comment. It was clear from Panthera's tone that he still thought Jafit had a debt to pay.

  The following day, about mid-morning, we rode into a Hadassah town, Caraway. It was quite a busy place, though not large, and had been constructed recently (during the last twenty years or so). Many—too many— harish towns are those claimed from humans. There was something curiously fresh about this little place that was not. Hara looked at us with interest as we rode by, but no-one stopped us and asked our business. I commented on the number of inns. Kruin laughed and pointed out that he'd already told me the Hadassah welcome travelers. Because of our severe lack of funds, it was decided, rather glumly, that we couldn't really afford the luxury of a decent meal at an inn, which was a shame because we were all starving. Our meals along the road had necessarily to be frugal, but we did agree to partake in one small measure of ale each, which was cheap.

  The inn we chose was warm and cozy inside and, because of the early hour, nearly empty. We stood around the roaring fire and put our drinks on the mantelpiece, holding our stiff, unmittened hands to the blaze.

  "We're going to have to find more funds," Panthera said.

  Kruin agreed with him without argument for once. "We might have to sell one of the

  horses," he said.

  "Won't that slow us down too much?" I asked, still the nervous one.

  "Not as much as slowly starving to death," Panthera said wearily. "Why the hell does it have to be winter!"

  Presently, the pot-har came from behind the bar to talk with us. He was dressed in brightly colored clothes and wore heavy brass jewelry. He commiserated with us over the bitter cold and told us that he, personally, would hate to have to travel at this time of year. We agreed earnestly.

  "Will you be ordering a meal?" he asked. "We serve lunches from mid-day, but I could get you something from the kitchen if you're hungry now."

  "No, thank you," Kruin said politely. "I'm afraid we are traveling with light purses. One glass of ale each is as far as we can stretch, and a free warming in front of your splendid fire of course."

  The Hadassah smiled, and gestured toward the highly polished tables beneath the back windows of the inn. "Please sit down," he said. I looked in puzzlement at Kruin, who ushered me to the nearest table. Panthera followed. We sat, and the Hadassah disappeared through the door behind the bar.

  "Ah, Hadassah hospitality!" Kruin beamed. I asked him to explain. "We'll be given a free meal, that's all," Panthera said. "The Hadassah are famed for their generosity. The pot-har pities us."

  "I get the feeling that you anticipated something like this when you mentioned we had no money," I said, wagging an uncontrollably contented finger at Kruin.

  He smiled and made a non-commital gesture. "A small gamble," he said. "We had nothing to lose."

  I was quite impressed.

  Hadassah fare was offered to us in the form of thick, vegetable soup, hunks of warm bread and sour winter fruit, softened with sugar and cream. The pot-har watched us devour the food with satisfaction. He refilled our glasses and sat down with us. "You've come down from Fereng?" he asked, Kruin nodded, assuming leadership, as usual.

  "Hmm. We hardly get any travelers from out of country passing through at this time of year," the pot-har said casually. "Strange we should entertain two parties within two days."

  Panthera, Kruin and I swapped uneasy glances.

  "Another party from Thaine?" I asked.

  "Well, to be honest, they were a little uncommunicative, in fact, quite rude. Because of that, I took the liberty of charging them more than usual for their meals. They were asking if we'd seen any other strangers recently."

  "Which road did they arrive on?" Kruin asked, with enviable calm.

  "The south road, I believe. Don't envy whoever it is they're after; they had killer eyes."

  "They intimated they were after someone then?" I enquired.

  The Hadassah shrugged. "It was reasonable to assume so. Certain questions were asked. Had I seen any other outlanders recently? I hadn't. They seemed satisfied with my answers."

  "And where are they now, this other party?" I asked, as carelessly as I could.

  "I'm afraid I'm not sure. They weren't staying here. They may have left Caraway."

  "Thank you," Kruin said, and the pot-har inclined his head and left us.

  We resumed our meal in silence.

  "Jafit's trackers?" Panthera asked after a while. An obvious remark which we'd all been contemplating, I'm sure.

  "Seems likely," I said, convinced of the fact. "But from the south? How could they have followed our trail?"

  "Maybe they didn't!" Panthera said. "There are few clear roads into Jaddayoth at this time of year. It wouldn't take a genius to work out which way we'd have to come."

  "They probably went south into Elhmen from Fallsend," Kruin continued, "and when they realized we hadn't gone that way, simply circled around, knowing full well they'd have a good chance of intercepting us once we turned south. That Jael is our destination is unfortunately obvious. As Panthera said, clear roads are few and far between."

  "It was luck, just luck, on their side!" Panthera interrupted bitterly.

  "Well, they don't know we're here yet, hopefully," I said. "Perhaps we'd better move on as soon as possible."

  Outside the inn, the friendly town of Caraway suddenly seemed threatening and hostile. Perhaps there were unseen eyes watching us, spies reporting back, even a Sensitive poised somewhere with probing mind. We set off at a brisk pace and were cantering down the south road out of the town within minutes. Our silence was only breath steaming on the air, panting breath. We did not look back. It is an ill-omen to look back. At noon we entered a dense forest, veering off from the main road, where the snow was packed and hard, into a desolate place of wind-sculpted drifts and stark pines. Kruin was vaguely familiar with the path, but it was difficult to follow under these conditions.

  "This track should come out of the forest near the town of Jasminia," he said, shaking his compass.

  We slowed to a walk and the only
sounds were the muffled tread of our horses' hooves in the snow and the occasional, startled rattle of a bird spiraling up through the trees. There was no outward sign of anyone following us, but we were all plagued by the horrible feeling of being observed. As the sun began to sink and the trees cast gloomy shadows over the snow, we were still deep in the forest. There were no clouds; it was bitterly cold. Kruin annoyed Panthera and myself by continually muttering, "We shouldbe out of the trees, we shouldbe." We weren't. A painfully definite fact that was not going to change in a short time. And we didn't need reminding of that. Panthera said that the way things were going, we would just have to try and find work in Jasminia—if we ever got there. "There's no way we'll reach Jael on the supplies we have, and the horses are beginning to lose condition."

  "Want to risk hanging around then?" Kruin asked tetchily.

  "We have no choice! Anyway, we have no proof that it was Jafit's people who were seen in Caraway."

  "Don't be stupid!"

  "I'm not. Why don't you stop being paranoid! We have to face this problem. There's no way it's going to just vanish. I haven't broken out of Piristil just to freeze to death in Hadassah!"

  They continued to snipe at each other, but not with any great feeling. Their eyes and their minds were kept mainly on the gaps in the trees. I rode along behind in a kind of idiot daze. Perhaps it was just the cold, but I'd felt strange ever since leaving the road, picking up memories like bad visualizations. Pictures kept surfacing in my mind like murder victims in a mud patch. Unfortunate simile. Feelings, smells, tastes, a snatch of words. It all just drifted over me. I should have known it was a warning that power was near. Before Fallsend, I'd have put spur to flank and ridden the horse to death to escape that feeling.

  At sundown, we crawled beneath a fallen pine and curled up together among the roots, in our blankets. We did not light a fire and I, for one, was thankful for the hot meal the Hadassah had given us that morning. I could not sleep, discomforted by Kruin's elbow in my chest, the sound of breathing all around me, that distanced any sounds beyond the branches. I stared up through the black, root fingers hanging over us, that were dripping with frozen soil. After several cheerless hours, I must have drifted off to sleep, only to awake soon after with an excruciating urge to urinate. I was reluctant to leave our bony nest of shared body warmth, but the need was too pressing to ignore. Fumbling through the branches, I stretched into the icy air.

  All around me the forest lay white and black and silent, the snow sparkling in the light of a white, round moon that sailed above the treetops. My nerves were still raw and itching, but I roughly tried to suppress such sensations. "Paranoia, Cal!" I chastized myself, which was foolish. I deserved what happened. There I was, in midstream, for want of a better term, when someone said softly, "Calanthe." It was not the best time to be surprised by an unwelcome visitor. I looked, squinted, into the trees and a figure materialized out of the gloom. My first thought was "Gelaming!" and I froze, helpless in blind panic. If I'd realized who it really was I might have reacted differently. A knife blade kissed my throat with its sharpest point. I could not turn my head without risking injury, but I knew it was Jafit standing beside me. He grabbed my hair as I modestly rearranged my clothing, his thickly-gloved hand yanking my face close to his own. He shook his head as if in sadness. "I'm disappointed in you, my dear," he said.

  "Then you were a fool to trust me," I replied, finding my voice. "Get your hands off me, Jafit. You have the position of advantage here, I think."

  "Haven't I just!" he agreed affably. "Where's my Panthera?"

  "Not yours, Jafit."

  "Be quiet. You are surrounded. You have no chance. Just hand him over, Calanthe, and I might, just might, let you off with a thorough beating.

  "What, and then let me go free?" I laughed in his face. "You can dropdead, pimp! Both Panthera and myself will die before you take him back to Piristil!"

  "Oh, how touching," Jafit said, nastily.

  I realized that, by this time, Panthera and Kruin must be awake, but were obviously lying low, waiting to see what would happen. I was not entirely sure how I felt about that. Support would have been most welcome at that point. Jafit, barely able to suppress his nauseating, triumphant leer, clicked his fingers and five hara emerged fully from the cover of the trees, to stand menacingly beside him and around me. Three of them were Mojags, one of these was Outher. Outher stared at me blankly, obviously still raw from my betrayal. I had hoped never to see him again, mainly because he was not a bad sort, and I knew I must have hurt him.

  "Search the area!" Jafit ordered, with a tasty mouthful of satisfaction.

  "That won't be necessary, Jafit." The voice was cool, and there was Panthera with his back to the fallen pine, looking as mean and deadly as a she-cat about to defend her young. He held a slim-barrelled gun in his hands, which was pointed directly at Jafit's head. Jafit looked thunderstruck with surprise. Was he really so stupid that he thought Panthera couldn't defend himself away from his chains? The Mojags scorned firearms, but the other two (who were deducably trackers) quivered to draw their own. "Tell them to be sensible," Panthera said, still clear, still calm. He must have felt wonderful in those moments. Jafit didn't respond, but the trackers lowered their hands anyway. "Kruin!" Panthera called. "Get the weapons." Like a shadow, forest-creature that he is, Kruin slipped past us. Jafit's hara made several disgruntled protests as he took their knives and guns. The Mojags also had axes and slim, whip-like swords, which must look rather incongruous in their large paws. Kruin looked up and smiled at me.

  Too late, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the quick gesture that Jafit made, and that was when Outher, obeying some subtle command, decided to become a hero. With a roar, he jumped Kruin from behind, his large, lithe body covering several yards in one leap. Panthera should have shot him immediately. He didn't. I don't know why. He'd kept his head until that moment. Outher was much taller than Kruin; an easy target. Instead, incensed by whatever inner rages were motivating him, Panthera decided to empty the contents of the gun into Jafit's brain. Jafit fell to the ground, grunting in surprise. One shot would have been enough at that range.

  "What the fuck are you doing?" I screamed. "Stop it! There are five of them!"

  Panthera remained staring at the twitching body of Jafit. The gun smoked in the chill air. Behind us, Outher and Kruin grappled noisily, though Kruin's cries were from pain and frustration. Outher's from glee. The others were advancing warily, perhaps unsure whether Panthera, in his new role of mad, indiscriminate killer, had any more weapons on him.

  "Panthera!" I cried again. He seemed to shake himself, wake up. "The others!" I said, gesturing wildly.

  "Oh, the others," he said and raised the gun, but of course, the barrel was empty and all the spare ammunition was beneath the tree. Outher threw Kruin, coughing, to the ground, where he lay groaning, knees to stomach. Outher appeared to have assumed leadership of his fellows.

  "Bring Calanthe to me," he said and stood back grimly, with folded arms, to let the others take us. We fought as best we could but, in our defense, I can only say that three super-fit hara of any tribe are no match for a single Mojag. They really are a mutated strain of the Wraeththu type. Panthera kicked up and out viciously, and was nearly always on target, but free from the influence of Diamanda, they could shrug off his assault as if it was merely the brush of an insect's wing. I can remember clearly a pretty array of stars exploding inside my head as a Mojag fist (it felt three feet wide) smacked me heartily in the face. After that, things get a bit muzzy for a while.

  Jafit's party must have made camp farther away from the road. When I came to my senses again, I found myself lying in a heap on the floor of a large, leather tent. It was quite warm and pungent in there. For a moment or two, I couldn't remember what had happened to me, then I became aware of the lumbering presence of Outher as he squatted beside me. The light inside the tent was dim and brownish, but I knew it was him. He was indistinct, but there was no mistaking t
he hostility of his manner. I pulled my aching bones into a sitting position. "Any chance of a drink?" It was difficult to speak. My face felt several sizes too large for my head. Outher did not answer me. It was clear that, as far as he was concerned, I was merely a wayward whore who had stepped above his station, fit only for the dubious practices of pelcia and chaitra. I could see he was regretting ever having offered me a way out. He'd misjudged me and that had made him angry with himself and me. He'd treated me with honor, which had been wasted. I was only a thing to be used. Never speaking, he lunged toward me,

  throwing me backwards, ripping at my bruised body with steel, wounding paws. I struggled gamely, calling on every forgotten god I could think of and screaming out withering curses, but it was all to no avail. Tense against his brutality, I felt my flesh tear. I don't know whether he intended to kill me or not, but it was one of the vilest experiences I have ever lived through. In the back of my mind lurked the horrid, saintly thought that this was something I'd deserved for a long time. As a Uigenna warrior, I'd thought nothing of violating those weaker than myself. Self-loathing, pain, and fear of death do not make a palatable cocktail.