Broken Earth

by C M Blackwood

  “Is that better?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re quite welcome,” she said. She took the seat beside Antony. “Have you had enough to eat?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said, pushing his plate away.

  The woman smiled. “That’s very good.”

  She sat so close to him now, her face was fully visible to Antony. He looked at her for a moment, examining her dark hair; her pale, smooth skin; and her shifting eyes. One moment they appeared to be brown; but the next second they seemed to be blue. They had changed to green before she said, “I’m sure that you’ll be wanting to get some rest – but there are a few things that we must talk about first.”

  “All right,” he said.

  “You were running from home,” she said. “Can you tell me why?”

  He frowned; for it seemed that he could remember nothing.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. He looked at the woman helplessly.

  “Oh, my,” she said. “It seems that you’ve grown a bit too comfortable. Here, maybe this will help.”

  She waved her hand before his face; and it was almost like waking from a dream. He felt suddenly sick with all the food he had eaten, and his head began to ache again. His feet were sore from all of his walking in the snow, and he was very, very tired. He looked all around him, as if seeing everything for the first time. The woman was no longer a comforting presence. She seemed dangerous now.

  “Who are you?” he demanded. “Where am I?”

  She smiled. “That’s better. Perhaps now you can answer my questions.”

  He got up so quickly, his chair went clattering to the floor. “I’ll answer none,” he said, “until you answer mine.”

  She remained seated. “What could you possibly want to know? I rescued you! I brought you into my home. I gave you dry clothes, warm fire, and good food.”

  She stared into his eyes, and he felt for a moment slightly dizzy. He reached for the table; but went falling to the floor instead. When he tried to get up, it was as though his limbs were made of lead. He could move nothing; he could do nothing.

  “There we are,” said the woman. “That’s much better for the moment.”

  “Let me up,” he said, struggling to raise his hand towards the table.

  The woman waved her hand again, and his arm fell to his side. “I don’t think so,” she said. “You’ll stay there until you remember your manners.”

  He looked into her eyes once again; and this time they were black. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I’ve already told you. I want you to answer my questions.”

  He said nothing.

  “All right, then,” said she. “Now – why were you running from home?”

  “I wasn’t,” he said.

  Her smile was like a passing shadow; there one moment, and gone the next, leaving no evidence that it had ever been there at all.

  “You were,” she said. “And you will tell me why.”

  “I’ll tell you nothing.”

  He pushed against the weight in his arms, and his legs; but several moments later, all he had accomplished was making himself sweaty and breathless.

  “I have brought you to a place,” said the woman, “that you cannot escape. It matters to me very little how long you stay, or how obstinately you behave. But I will tell you this: the longer you behave as a spoiled little Prince, the more unpleasant your punishments will become. Now, will you please answer me?”

  “I won’t.”

  “Then this is the first of your punishments.”

  She waved her hand; and Antony’s body felt as if it had been set ablaze, burning with the intense heat of a real fire; but he could not see the flames. He rolled all about, the gift of motion suddenly granted him. He tried to scream; but it was as though his lips had been sewn together. He could not make a sound.

  It lasted for only a moment; but it seemed forever to Antony. When the woman waved her hand once more, and the fire died away, he crawled away from her, quite as quickly as he could.

  “Why?” he asked quietly, as shining stars danced before his eyes.

  She smiled again – and this time, her smile was true.

  “Because I want your sister.”

  ~

  Lila went hurriedly to her mother.

  “Lila!” cried Abella. “What is the matter, darling?”

  “Antony is gone.”

  Her face fell, and she beckoned her daughter nearer.

  “Are you certain?” she asked, clasping Lila’s shaking hands in her own cold fingers.

  “Yes, Mother,” Lila said softly. “I am certain.”

  Abella bent her head over Lila’s hands, and pressed them close to her cheek.

  “I’m so sorry, Mother . . .”

  Abella offered Lila a tearful smile. “Don’t be sorry, my love. It is no fault of yours.”

  “Perhaps, if I had only let him have a part –”

  Abella put her finger to Lila’s lips. “Hush, darling. Do not question what you did, because of what your brother did. Good or bad, things will work themselves out whatever way they will; and we will simply have to deal with what is left.”

  Lila lowered her face into her hands, feeling utterly lost as to what she could possibly do, in the wake of this terrible blow.

  “Do not give up,” said Abella. “All is not lost.”

  “I try,” Lila sobbed. “I try, but it’s all too much . . .”

  “But it isn’t,” said Abella. “Not for you – because you’re strong. Strong like me.”

  ~

  Dain Aerca sat up long into the night. As early morning dawned (with no evidence of it, of course, in that underground pit), she left her chamber, and got herself down to the lowest floor of the fortress, what was called Grénha.

  This floor, and those above it, were built completely underground. They reminded one of a huge, multi-level cellar; the air was damp and cold, and the only light to relieve the darkness was thrown upon the walls and floor by torches in brackets affixed to the stone blocks.

  Though Dain could hardly stand to sleep in her underground chamber, and in fact woke quite frequently gasping for the air that seemed so thin in that place, she had had no choice but to bury the whole structure beneath the ground. It simply would not have done, for anyone to discover this of all her fortresses (of which there were eight), and to invade it as she herself had invaded Eredor. There were long tunnels made under the earth, that emptied out miles away from the fortresses, serving as an exit route for the Narken. She, like the Lumaria who came to her from time to time, had no need for the tunnels – but even her ability of instantaneous escape left her feeling closed and caged.

  Her best weapon was secrecy, and this she tried to remember – every time her candle burnt down to complete and total darkness. When she woke to that thick blackness, she felt as if she were trapped in a coffin, the lid of which would never move aside for her release.

  She did not like to descend to the final level, so far below the surface of the earth. Yet it was the prison-level. The floors above housed many of her beasts. If a captive ever chanced to escape from his cell, it was well-nigh impossible for him to make it through the next five levels of monstrous Narken. Yet it was almost as impossible for anyone to escape in the first place. Each cell was equipped with a thick door, locked over a fixed set of iron bars.

  Dain walked down the musty corridor, passing the prisoners without a glance or a thought; she just walked, all the way down to the end, where Prince Antony lay alone in one of the smaller cells. She looked through the small square cut in the top of the door, and saw him stretched out upon the wooden bench; with neither pillow nor blanket, hands beneath his head, breathing the uneasy breath of troubled sleep.

  She raised her hand, and pounded against the door. He bolted upright on the bench.

  “Did you get a good night’s sleep?” she asked.

  He said nothing. His legs were folded under him, and his back was
pressed against the wall.

  “You can be free, Antony, in a matter of seconds – if you’ll only help me.”

  He stared at her without blinking.

  “Fine,” she said. “Have it whatever way you want it. But don’t complain when dinner is somewhat less than to your satisfaction.”

  She slammed her fist once more against the door, and then turned to depart from the suffocating dankness of the prison.

  ~

  Antony had sat up all night in the frigid cell, unable to lay still or to keep his eyes shut. Every time he closed them, they would spring open again, refusing to allow him rest while danger lurked so close. He had nodded off only once, his burdened mind desperate for some respite, but was waked almost immediately by the Sorceress’ iron fist.

  It went without saying, that he was riddled presently with regrets. He wished now for home, more than anything. He wished for his mother’s smile; he wished for her strength. He wished for his sister’s confidence and conviction.

  No one else would know what to do. He did not know what to do.

  For the first time in a long time, Antony did not feel like the man he pretended to be. Oh, why had his head been so hard? Why had he found it so difficult to submit to his sister – worthy though she was?

  He had shamed his mother, and dishonoured his sister. Now he was a prisoner of his own mistake.

  Ever and anon, he heard the movements of the other sorry souls down the hall. They tossed and turned, sleepless on their wooden benches. They coughed and they hacked, their lungs cold and hard.

  Lila would know by now that he was gone. She might, or might not, know what had happened to him; but even if she knew it, she could not save him. She did not know this place.

  No one knew this place.

  Antony leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and picturing Lila beside him. They were much younger, only children; Mother stood there before them, smiling sweetly but teaching seriously. Their learning was the most important thing, she said.

  Lila had always taken it seriously. But Antony had not. So now he sat, bound by ignorance, trapped inside a prison that could not have hoped to hold Lila.

  He longed for the Power that flowed from her hands, free and easy as the river into the sea.

  ~

  The following day, for Lila, proved even more tiring than her nearly sleepless night. She darted to and fro till sunset, overseeing the re-securement of the city. What with the trespass of the city walls by the wolf-men, she knew that the task could not be left undone.

  If it were not for the unwavering support of Thomas Henry, the day would have indeed proved unbearable. The city and its people were filled with shows and signs, that the strength and authority of Eredor had been called into question.

  The people had watched an indomitable spirit, that of their Queen, fall from unwavering power to bedridden weakness. And that had been less than a year ago. Now, what with the invasion of the wolves (the executions of which had spread by word of mouth, from the burning pile of animal flesh at the guillotine, to every corner of the city), the people seemed to be doubting the Princess’ ability to protect them.

  Though Lila had tried to keep a hush upon it, she heard by nightfall rampant whispering over Antony’s disappearance. Trouble at Eredor, they said – that mischief-making boy of a Prince gone in the same night as the coming of the wolves. They had all been aware of Dain Aerca’s shadow, spreading slowly over the tops of the city walls, for some time now. With these new events, which did indeed make it look like the Princess was losing some degree of control, they sensed that the threads were beginning to unravel; and that Lila had not the ability to keep them from coming apart any further.

  “Pay them no mind,” said Henry. “They know only what they see. Keep faith, as I do.”

  But faith, as the list of difficulties grew longer, was not easy to find; and was, naturally, even harder to keep. Yet Lila led her men all around the city, all day long, showing them what needed to be done. She suffered the accusing looks of her people, with what she hoped was the same dignity as her mother would have shown.

  As the sun began to concede to the moon, Lila called to her men, and led them away back to Eredor.

  “Tomorrow will be quite as full of coming, going and doing as was today,” she said. “But now we shall eat, shake the darkness of the Sorceress from our garments, and rest as well as we may. Come!”

  She ate with the soldiers, that night, in their dining hall. She sat at the Captain’s table, conversing with Henry and his close circle of men. It seated a few of the higher-ranking officers, but also some who were not; for Henry was not discriminatory when it came to those whose company he sincerely enjoyed. It was a smaller table than the rest, positioned at the front of the hall, and seating only twenty-four bodies. The other tables, of which there were twelve, stood lengthwise across the hall, each seating fifty men.

  Which was not to say, of course, that the Army consisted of only six hundred men. They ate in three shifts – not always in the same order, but depending upon what duties had been assigned to them by the leader of their regiment. The Army of Eredor consisted of four regiments, each of which contained anywhere from four hundred to four-hundred-and-fifty men.

  The city itself was thirty miles long, and twenty miles wide. Eredor stood on the Western side of the city, with its gate facing northward. To the West were all of the problems which Lila was trying so desperately to avoid; and to the South lay nothing but darkness and ruin. To the East was the sea, past which Lila knew nothing at all.

  “I think that the new security measures will be very effective,” said Glade Devos, looking to Lila.

  “I sincerely hope so,” she said. “We cannot afford any more – mishaps.”

  “We certainly can’t.” He glanced at the Captain. “Do you know, I received eight threats of death by stoning since this morning? And that was just me. Who knows what they said to some of the other boys?”

  John Zoden shook his head. “I don’t understand why they’re treating us this way. Suppose we just vanished one day? What in the world would they do then?”

  “Their ignorance doesn’t make them any less entitled to protection,” said Henry, stirring a bit of bread into his soup.

  “I didn’t say that. I only wish – well, I only wish they would show a bit more respect!”

  “I’ve been thinking, though,” said Arlo Hakes, his mouth half-full of meat.

  “Manners, Hakes!”

  “Sorry, Captain,” said Hakes, swallowing quickly. “I was only going to say, how did those beasts get in here to begin with? Everyone had signed in to their posts; no one was missing. The alarm should have sounded, long before they got to the castle.”

  “That’s what everyone wants to know,” said Devos. “Though I doubt we’ll ever find out. Do not forget: those beasts belonged to the Sorceress. It could have been any manner of a thing that got them over the wall.”

  “Especially now,” said Henry, “vigilance is crucial. If you are not asleep, you are to be on guard – at all times. Even if you are free from your post, you keep your eyes skinned.” He sighed. “Who knows what will happen next?”

  “Nothing that cannot be dealt with,” said Zoden. “We took care of the wolves – and we shall take care of anything else that comes our way. Sure as daylight, we shall.”

  Lila set down her spoon, and rose from her seat. Henry whistled; and every soldier rose to his feet. They turned to face Lila, standing straight and at attention.

  “I am proud to call you all my soldiers,” said Lila. “You do all that you can, and in the process more than I could ever expect. Do not let anyone tell you that you are less than exemplary.”

  They raised their hands in the salute of Eredor, and shouted a unified “Hurrah!”

  “Sleep well,” said Lila. “May the gods bless your weary dreams.”

  The men took their seats once again.

  “Goodnight, Princess,” said Henry. “Let us pra
y that no ill tidings come to us this night.”

  “Indeed,” said Lila. “But worry no more for the moment. I shall see you tomorrow – but perhaps not so early as usual.”

  “Of course.”

  The others at the Captain’s table wished Lila goodnight; and she strode from the hall, making a hasty way to her chambers.

  ~

  Lila passed the night, due solely to a complete exhaustion of heart and mind, in an unusually deep sleep. She woke not until the moment when the darkness finds that it must give way to the light; but it had not given way yet, and in fact seemed especially reluctant to do so.

  She sat for a long while in a dark corner of the room, hunched forward in an armchair, elbows upon her knees and fingers pointed into her chin. She became lost in her thoughts, and hardly noticed when she started to fall asleep again.

  She woke a few hours later, cramped and stiff from her awkward position in the chair. She stood up and stretched, listening to the sound of her bones cracking back into place.

  It was yet another day in the disarray that had fallen down upon Eredor. She washed her face, dressed, and tidied her hair. Then she turned to the door, set her face in grim resolution, and set out to find whatever trouble might be waiting for her.

  V: Four Women and a Salesman

  Now we shall transpose ourselves to quite another place entirely. Here we find a new situation, and a new order of individuals. Why do such a thing, at such a time? What is the purpose of it? You shall see. Now, go on!

  ~

  After she had read it for perhaps the tenth time, Heidi folded the letter carefully and tucked it into the pocket of her cloak. She wiped a tear from her eye, and stifled a sob, as she turned her gaze towards the second room of the cabin. A blue armchair stood to one side of the small hearth; a table was pushed up below the window, and a narrow cot was positioned across from it. Nothing hung upon the walls, and the mantel above the hearth was empty of anything but a thick layer of dust.

  The room was unoccupied, save for the corpse in the armchair.

  Heidi took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, trying to collect her thoughts. The dead body was that of her dear friend Josephine, whom she had seen alive only hours earlier.