Broken Earth

by C M Blackwood

  “I have made up my mind,” said Lila, “and the plan is complete. We shall go out as a single party, with surveillance in front. As we draw near to the Western border, the scouts will separate from the group, and will travel some distance ahead. If my target is spotted, the whole party will move forward. I will be stationed at the head; and will go alone to contain my target. Should I require assistance, then the party shall provide it. Most men, however, will serve to act only in an emergency situation.”

  “I am not sure if this piece of information is classified,” said Harn Fala, “but might we know who it is we are after?”

  “I keep no secrets from my men,” said Lila. “I seek members of the Lumaria. Perhaps only one – but preferably more.”

  Several mouths dropped open. A round of whispering broke out round the table, but was quieted as Lila resumed speech. “All of you know, of course, that Prince Antony has been missing for some time,” she said. “This is done in an attempt to locate him; and in so doing, to locate the Sorceress.”

  A little more muttering flew forth from the section leaders; but the others sat at complete attention.

  “We will set out in two weeks’ time,” said Lila. “There is something I must do first; something I must do alone.”

  “And why not only get it over with?” someone murmured.

  “Hush up, Pilkey,” said another.

  “As you wish, Princess,” said Fala, pretending that he had not heard the others speak. “How many should the party consist of?”

  “At least fifty, in case of a turn for the worse.”

  “I thought you said, ‘no harm done’?” spoke another (or rather the same) someone, whose name was Ado Pilkey (leader of the second section of the Third Regiment).

  “I verily did,” said Lila. “But there must always be precautions made, for unfortunate turns of events.”

  “I mean no disrespect, Princess,” said Clogg Beddas, fourth section leader of the Fourth Regiment, “but what is the purpose of this mission? Even if we do manage to bring a Lumarian back to the castle (which is very unlikely), what knowledge do we hope to gain from it? It will tell us nothing of your brother, and nothing of the Sorceress.”

  “That is where you are mistaken, Beddas,” said Lila. “These creatures are nothing like the Narken. Their allegiance to the Sorceress is not unwavering.”

  “Even if that were true,” said Beddas, “which it may very well be – how can we hope to secure even one of them, with no injury to ourselves? They are miserable creatures, and would kill as many of us as they possibly could.”

  “Of course they would!” said Pilkey. “Who is to say that any of us would even survive?”

  “I hate to say so, Princess,” said Dorn Luhen, first section leader of the Second Regiment, who had hushed Pilkey earlier, “but I can only agree with Pilkey and Beddas.”

  A silence fell for several moments over the table, until Fala looked to Henry across the table, and then down towards the three who had spoken out. “You should be ashamed of yourselves,” he said. “You call yourselves soldiers? This was once a great country – and deserved bravery far better than anything you possess. So it does still, if only for memory of that great place. Your Queen made that place; and lies deathly ill this day in her bedchamber. Her daughter, your Princess, sits here – and has been a better leader to all of us, than any we could have asked for.”

  He took a moment or two, to regain his breath (for he seemed rather angry). “But even all that aside,” he continued, “you are members of the Army of Eredor. You do not question your Captain, and you do not question your Princess. Your sacrifice your lives, if need be, for the honour of this city! That is your lot in life, and you had best start getting used to it.” He looked back to Henry, and shook his head. “Terrible times like these,” he said, “and they understand nothing.”

  “You’re telling me,” said Henry. “I had to shout the ears off of a few boys just this morning.”

  And then they were both shaking their heads.

  Lila looked around at all the men, struck once again by how little respect some of them had for her. She had never measured up to her mother in their eyes; and to them, she would forever be nothing but a little girl, playing the part of a Queen.

  And yet what could be done?

  “I mean not to reprimand you,” she said to the men. “The Lumaria are worthy adversaries, and are not to be taken lightly. But I have faith in all of you – and I trust in your strength. Do trust in mine, as well.”

  Most of the men began to nod, with rather a look of shame upon their faces; though Pilkey, Beddas and Luhen looked still somewhat less than pleased.

  “How long do we expect to be gone?” asked Fala.

  “Perhaps a little more than a week. It is a three-day ride to Ademin, where I expect we shall have the best chance of finding what I seek.”

  Fala nodded.

  “All right, then,” said Lila, rising from her seat. “I do thank you all for patience. You are dismissed. Regiment leaders – make your selections of my accompaniments, at your earliest convenience. But of you only Fala will come, for the rest are needed here in the city. Henry will remain behind, as well – and will command in my stead.”

  Henry nodded; though it seemed that he was very disappointed not the be joining the Westward company.

  “When I return from my own errand, I will collect those who are to ride with me; and we will leave straightaway.”

  ~

  Walking as slowly as she did, it took Lila some time to reach the fourth storey. She went, then, at a steady pace towards Abella’s chamber. On her way (with her preoccupied vision as limited as it was), she nearly ran into Heidi Bastian, who was walking down the hall with Dera Black. They were travelling towards the staircase, from their rooms at the end of the South hall.

  Lila halted for just a moment; for she saw Heidi not as she appeared in that moment, but rather as she had looked in Lila’s own dream, clothed in silver and covered in light. Dera, who was looking especially surly that morning, did not bother to say hello; but Heidi greeted Lila with a smile.

  “My apologies,” said Lila. “It seems I was not watching where my feet were leading.”

  “It’s quite all right,” said Heidi. “Don’t give it a thought.”

  Suddenly anxious to be free of her (for she realized that the feeling was not a comfortable one, which was inspired by the memory of her dream), Lila offered her a gracious nod, and moved off again down the hall, in quick pursuit of the West corridor. She knocked once on her mother’s door, and waited for a response, of which there was none. Yet she proceeded inside nonetheless.

  The curtains were drawn, and the room was so very dark, that Lila could not tell whether or not her mother was awake. She whispered her name several times, but heard nothing. Walking now somewhat worriedly to the bed, she reached down and sought for her mother’s shoulder, so as to shake her gently in an attempt to rouse her.

  Abella started at Lila’s touch, and drew a sharp breath.

  “It is only me, Mother,” said Lila.

  “Did you knock?”

  “I did.”

  “I’m sorry, dear,” said Abella. “I must have been sleeping too deeply.”

  “Are you not feeling well today?”

  “Not especially, no.”

  “Do you wish me to open the curtains?”

  “I would much rather you did not.”

  So Lila sat down upon the bed; and without the ability to see, was surprised when the lamp was suddenly lit. Its light was faint, and Lila could only just see her mother’s face. It was haggard and drawn, and was creased with deep lines that had not been there before. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, what made their blue colour show like the stuff of burning stars.

  “You never come to see me anymore,” said Abella; speaking plainly, but not quite seeming as if she felt any one way about it. She sounded neither angry nor hurt. “There must be something, then, that you want to tell me
,” she added.

  “There is,” said Lila. “I am going to find Antony.”

  “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  “First I will travel to Húnama, where I intend to seek out an old friend. My errand with her should be short; and afterwards I will return to the city, to collect a group of soldiers whom I will take with me into Ademin. There I intend to capture a Lumarian, and bring it home with me.”

  “What do you hope to accomplish by that?”

  “You know very well what I hope.”

  “Surely you understand the danger of such an endeavour? Many as strong as you have died in the trying.”

  “You of all people, Mother, should know that it can be done. It was your own husband who once managed it.”

  “He was bent on revenge, and not thinking clearly. He loved his sister very much.”

  “And I love my brother.”

  Abella shook her head. “This is different. Your anger, Lila, is not for the Lumaria. You wish to use them to do your bidding; and your wish will never be realised.”

  “If you intend only to try and dissuade me, you may as well give it over.”

  “Have you at least warned the men of their danger?”

  “I will be the one doing the capturing. They are only there for safety’s sake, for the journey back.”

  “And what if they are hurt?”

  There came a hot spark of anger, then, in Lila’s heart, which emitted as a fearful radiance from her eyes. “They are soldiers,” she said, “and that is their duty. When did the Army of Eredor become nothing but a great set of gate-keepers and messengers? Once they were honourable. Once they were not afraid to fight.”

  Abella nodded slowly. “That is true,” she said. “As their leader, however, it is your duty to weigh benefit to risk. How much can you gain from this?”

  Lila leapt up from the bed; and looked down at her mother, with shaking breath and a stoney heart. It could not breathe, and it could not beat. It was at a standstill, and was sinking ever farther down, to a place from which it could not rise.

  “Only let me worry about that,” she said. “But you should rest. After all – you are not looking well.”

  But then there came a familiar and unpleasant sensation upon the back of her neck, what crawled like troublesome insects all over her skin. So they had come, as she sat organising her surplus of thoughts in her chamber, in the dead of a sleepless night. So they had persisted, till she could do nothing but look up; and when she did, she saw two eyes there in the shadows behind the candlelight. Fixed intently, they were, upon her face, as if they had been watching for some time. At Lila’s glance, they disappeared; but that of course did not erase the memory of their presence, or do away with the creeping of tiny, invisible legs all up and down her spine.

  “I must ask something of you, Mother,” she said presently.

  “And what is that?”

  “I know that the Sorceress is watching the castle. I have felt her eyes upon me. So I ask you now, whether there is there any way to shield Eredor from her gaze?”

  “There is,” said Abella. “But it will take much of your strength away, and leave you in a bad spot for this journey you have planned.”

  “Never mind that,” said Lila. “Will you tell me how to do it?”

  “Of course. If it is what you wish.”

  “It is.”

  “Very well. Come here, and sit down beside me.”

  So Lila sat.

  “Now, close your eyes,” said Abella. “And only imagine, that there is a dark curtain being drawn all about us. Use it to enshroud what you wish to hide; picture it falling down over everything, so very thick, that nothing at all can be seen. Hold it inside your mind – and use it to cover all that should be hidden.” She paused a moment. “Have you done this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, repeat after me. Envision the curtain, covering everything quite completely – and speak these words. Comm dúna. Daes nan.”

  “Comm dúna,” said Lila firmly. “Daes nan.”

  “Very good,” said Abella. “Now, it is impossible for me to know how well you have managed it – because, quite naturally, I cannot see the shield in the first place. But I shall hope, for all our sakes, that you have done well.”

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  Lila turned away from Abella, and returned to the hall without another word. She was about to close the door, when Abella spoke out:

  “I do not doubt, Lila, that what you wish to find may be found – and that it may very well serve the purpose you wish it to. But it cannot come without a cost.”

  “Am I to leave Antony to die?” Lila asked seriously. “Is that what you would have me do, Mother?”

  Abella said nothing.

  “You know, Mother – I never agreed with Antony, when he spoke to me about you. He always said that you loved me best, and that your feelings towards him were little more than those of indifference. I never believed him – until now.”

  “You know that is not true,” said Abella softly.

  “I am not so certain anymore.”

  Lila closed the door quickly, so that she might not have to look again into her mother’s face.

  ~

  With anger, fear, and desperation, shifting from one to the other every few minutes inside her mind, Lila climbed the two flights of stairs to her own chamber. She went for a little into her brother’s chamber; sat down upon his bed, and then looked out of his window, through which he had disappeared all those days ago. She looked out across that open, muddy valley, and could imagine him walking there – tall and strong, yet more vulnerable than she to the wiles of Dain Aerca.

  “What am I to do?” she whispered, as Antony’s imagined form faded quickly from her sight. “There is naught to do; naught but what I have already convinced myself of, whether its doing be wise or no.”

  In her own chamber, she drew the curtains, and fell down upon the bed. Nights and nights of poor and little sleep came upon her all at once; and she fell directly down into a place, where even her own heavy troubles could not follow.

  There were no dreams this day. She slept in a deep, dark place; and its peace was absolute, leaving no room for doubt or regret.

  When she returned from that place, and found herself alone once again with her own thoughts, the sadness she felt was perhaps deeper than if she had never departed at all. And so, requiring some amount of light to fend off a lapse into hopelessness, she offered herself to the cold silver night, what she found upon the balcony.

  At first light next day, she would set off alone from Eredor, and travel Eastward through the empty plains: towards the land of Húnama, the home of the Wónakee. It was a wide and open place, but was the dwelling of only a few hundred people. The greater part of the Wónakee were said to have crossed the sea many years ago; but those who remained at present were spread out in red clay houses across the shore. They had very little contact with outsiders, and few people indeed were welcomed across the boundary of their lands. They grew their own corn, and hunted their own meat; and in fact had very little need of the outside world.

  Aponé, daughter of Chief Ohmená, was captured by Western peoples when she was only a small girl. She was taken from the forest, while she was alone, and was not missed by her people until some hours after the event. Ohmená and many others rode after her, but could not take the miles that her captors had given.

  In the time that followed, it became common practise to kidnap Wónakee children, and to sell them as slaves in the Western cities. The Wónakee were called the Brown People; and as many of them did not understand the speech of those lands to the West, they were considered to be of very menial intelligence. Yet they were valued still for their hard labour, which, when forced upon them, was five times greater than that which any Western man could achieve.

  If they did try to escape their masters, they were killed. If they did not complete their day’s work before sunset, they were killed. If they did not come
when their master called – they were killed. The practice (as seems always to be the case with such disgusting things) was much more widely accepted than it was abhorred.

  It was Abella who put an end to it. After witnessing a caravan crossing the lands outside her gates, laden with young children of the Wónakee (and even a number of women, who could not fight the Western men who captured them), her wrath was kindled. She went herself into Ademin and Halju, with a large band of soldiers at her side. They swept through the lands, reclaimed each and every one of the slaves, and issued a proclamation: that there would be no more theft and sale of Wónakee peoples. Some went against her, unsure as to how she could uphold this order she had made; and were imprisoned immediately. The fear of Queen Abella spread quickly across the land, and the practice of Wónakee slavery (which had indeed lasted only several years) faded into the past.

  Naturally, the Wónakee became a great friend of Désarn. And yet, by the time that the slavery ended, many of the Wónakee had already taken to the sea, in search of a land of their own. But of those who remained, they did have their own great warriors, who pledged their service in times of great need to Désarn. Some among the Wónakee were also great wielders of Power, and called themselves Talkons. The most powerful of them was Aponé, first slave-girl of the Wónakee. She herself had not been slave for long, having used her own Power to free herself from bondage. Many others had not been so fortunate; and even when the Talkons made efforts to rescue them, they themselves were often killed in the attempt.

  When Aponé escaped from Ademin, she was caught up by soldiers just outside of Désarn. She was weak and hungry when they found her, and had been wanting of water for many long hours in the hot sun of the plains. She was brought to Eredor, and to the judgment of the Queen, who allowed her to remain inside the castle for many weeks. She and Lila were both only children then, and had become great friends during her stay. Lila could remember being very heavy of heart, when Aponé was returned to her own village.

  In the years that followed, Lila would take the time ever and anon, to visit Aponé in Húnama. Sometimes Antony would accompany her, fond as he was of the strong Wónakee drink called Gimas.