Читать книгу Fire Angels - Jane Routley - Страница 8

We left Cardun the following morning, while the sky was still pink. It had rained before dawn and it promised to do so again. Bell birds were tinkling out their dawn songs in the tall sweet oil trees and a tremendous feeling of sadness came over me as I pulled the door of the hut closed. I stood at the door with a lump in my throat.

"Come on Dion," cried Tomas. "The day's a wasting."

Hamel put his arm round my shoulders and drew me towards the waiting horses. It was surprising how quickly our relationship had become this easy.

"Sorry little sister?"

"Aye," I said. "I feel as if I will never see this place again."

Tomas snorted. "Well since you've no talent for foretelling that probably means you'll be home within the month." He pinched my chin. "Did you think of that? Now up with you."

The quickest route over the border was through the forest and over the river, but it was a very stealthy route, not entirely legal and Tomas had decided against it.

"The border will be crawling with patrols at the moment. Everybody will be on edge because of the war. We are certain to get picked up going through the hills. It's the smugglers natural path and that will only look doubly suspicious. It's best if we go respectably along the main road."

This plan had the added advantage of disguising our movements from my parishioners. More than the usual number of people were hanging or working round the village street that morning and the fields by the road side seemed very busy too. Everywhere people waved cheerful farewells, but their eyes were curious.

Only after midmorning when we were well into the next parish, did we stop seeing people I knew. I was glad. I could see only trouble stemming from Cardun coming to know that their village healer had not taken the safe turn towards the city of Gallia, but the illegal and highly dangerous route into Moria instead.

Every now and then soft rain fell and the air was chill. I leaned against Tomas' back and tried to relax, but I was unused to riding pillion and by midday when we reached the crossroads, I was saddle sore and looking forward to getting down.

"There's Parrus," Tomas called back to me.

Parrus was sitting on the ground beside the shrine to Tansa. He was dressed in the sober blue robes of a Borgonese merchant. It had been agreed, (not by me of course, because I hadn't been consulted) that he should call himself Ren Parrus Latrides, making me Enna Dion Latrides.

He greeted us with relieved pleasure. When I got down from the saddle and could finally see more than Tomas' back I realized why he was so relieved.

On the other side of the crossroad sheltered by the trees sat a big group of Wanderers. There must have been 30 or 40 of them, just sitting or lying on the grass by the road.

"What are they doing here?" said Tomas.

"How should I know?" said Parrus defensively. "They were here when I got here. Just sitting about. Give me the creeps. Damned Moonies."

"Parrus!" I said. Moonies was a pretty common term of abuse for Wanderers, a reference to their moon white skin and pale hair, but I'd never liked it and now knowing what I did about my own family, I was ashamed to hear it in front of my brothers.

Tomas just shrugged. "Well you should have asked them, you fool. They don't bite, you know."

He had turned on his heel and was crossing the road before Parrus had time to let out an outraged noise.

"Well, to hell with you too," muttered Parrus at his back.

"A word of advice, Parrus," said Hamel gravely. "There's a lot of Wanderer blood in our family as there is in a lot of Morians." Then he turned and followed Tomas.

"I wouldn't admit to it if I were him," said Parrus to me softly. "It's hardly a badge of honor."

"Well some Morians don't admit and some do. I'm surprised at you calling them names like some badly-educated lout ..."

"Well you kept pretty quiet about your Wanderer blood," said Parrus. "In fact you kept quiet about a lot of things. Didn't you trust me or something?"

I couldn't think of anything to say to that, because the answer was, no I didn't trust him. I felt myself turning red.

"Not to worry," said Parrus almost kindly. He stroked my arm. "Your secret's safe with me."

We watched my brothers on the other side of the road. They made the traditional five movement gesture of Wanderer greeting and bowed.

"Huh!" said Parrus crossly. "Here I was sitting politely enough, minding my own business and one of them came over and gave me one of their stupid foretellings. Then I had to sit here the rest of the morning with them watching me."

I suddenly remembered the Wanderer man in black. His foretelling was coming true. How odd!

"What was your foretelling?" I asked interested.

"He said I should follow my heart not the Duke. When I asked him what he meant, he just turned and went away."

"Strange," I said.

"Dammed annoying is what it was. Anyway enough of that. Sit down. How did it go? I think I managed to get away without anyone seeing me."

"Why on earth do you want to come with us?" I asked. "And why didn't you ask me?"

"Your brothers said it would be all right."

"So?" I said sharply, annoyed at his presumption.

He shrugged. "They seem to know what they're doing."

"But why?" I said again. "The danger of the Witch Hunters ... That's real."

He shrugged. "I don't know. You're not the only one who's worried about necromancy in Moria, you know. I'm a mage for God's sake. And I'm sick of rotting at Cardun. Anyway what sort of a fellow would I be if I let you go off into Moria just like that?"

Was he actually worried about me? How ... odd. I found myself looking at him curiously. He reddened slightly.

"You're the best healer Cardun has ever had," he said quickly. "And they are my parish."

"Dion!"

Tomas beckoned me to come over.

Hamel came to meet me.

"They said they were curious to see you, Dion. It seems you've got a good reputation among them."

I could not help being flattered by this, but it was an odd meeting. The leader of the Wanderers got up as I approached and bowed and greeted me with their special gesture and I followed as best I could. Then they all sat there looking at me, their dark almond-shaped eyes expressionless and unreadable and as deep as silent wells. I could understand how Parrus would have been unnerved, waiting here all morning alone with these people. They were real wild Wanderers, the type that didn't even try to blend in with the rest of the Peninsula folk. They wore Wanderer-Brown garb and their hair was plaited and intertwined with twigs and feathers. In their ears were heavy rings of metal or bone. They were an unusual group for Wanderers. Wanderers mostly travel in family groups and there are always children playing about among them, but this group had neither old people nor children.

”The omens are good for the Duke's journey into Gallia,” said the leader to Tomas continuing the previous conversation.

"Is that a foretelling," said Tomas quickly.

The Wanderer smiled thinly.

"The future changes even as we begin to live it," he said. "Let us call it simply a well-founded hope. We wish you luck on your journey Enna. The omens are promising for that also."

He bowed and sat down with his face turned away indicating that the conversation was finished.

"Well," said Tomas later as we rode away down the road. "This bodes well. They say they're planning to follow the Gallian army into Moria. They expect them in the next three days."

"Are they going to join it then?" I asked thinking again of how there had only been young people in the group.

"Possibly" said Tomas. "Usually they regard any kind of violence as an abomination. Even skill in fighting is disliked by them."

He had changed horses with Parrus so that now, as was proper, I was riding pillion behind my supposed husband. This meant I could see Tomas and Hamel's faces but not Parrus'.

Still I knew very well what he must look like as he said in a scoffing tone, "So they're just going to sit there for several days doing nothing, are they?"

My brothers exchanged a tolerant but amused glance. I couldn't help feeling embarrassed at how narrow-minded Parrus sounded. I resisted the strong temptation to poke him in the ribs.

"I imagine there'll be a few more of them when the Duke does come," said Hamel. "I got the impression this was a general movement. He must be going to win. Otherwise surely they wouldn't follow him."

"Humph," said Parrus, earning another amused glance from my brothers. This time however I was too interested in what my brothers were saying to worry.

"Do you really think so?" I asked. I had always been fascinated by the Wanderer's powers of foretelling which were very much respected, even in Gallia where they were not well known. Wanderers were very reluctant to talk about such things to outsiders but it seemed my brothers knew something about the subject and I was determined to get it out of them.

"So do you think it is a sign that he will win?"

"Now, be careful." said Tomas, "There's nothing certain about foretelling. Like that Wanderer said. Our actions now are forever changing the future. Just because they say it's their fate to follow the Duke doesn't necessarily mean he's going to win this War, though it is a good sign."

"Well it would be pretty stupid to follow the Duke if they've foreseen he's going to lose, wouldn't it?" said Parrus.

"Foretelling isn't as simple as that," said Tomas. "It's not like the foretelling of our mages where they cast a spell and if they are lucky get a vague idea of the outcome of events. Though Wanderers do do that and do it well, their foretellers have the ability to see visions of events in the future. But they have no idea how those events will come about."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well take those Wanderers we just passed. They may be waiting at the border because, one or more likely, several of their foretellers has seen a vision of their following the Ducal Army into Gallia. And other foreteller may have seen visions of them living happily in Gallia in the future. But they can't really be sure if it is the first vision that leads to the second. This war may end in a terrible rout for the Duke and they may wind up living happily in Gallia for completely different reasons in the future."

"Well it hardly seems much good then, does it?" snorted Parrus.

"It is a thing to be very careful of and the Wanderers are. The truth is not the truth till it comes true they say. They only act on prophecies after careful discussion with each other and with people called Judges. They are those to whom it is given to be able to see when a prophecy should be acted upon. Our mother is supposed to have had this gift. She was much respected among them for it."

I remembered what Hamel had said about her knowing the right thing to do. I wanted to ask more but Hamel interrupted.

"Glassybri ahead," he said.

I froze. I had been so interested in what Tomas had been saying that I had forgotten that this ride was taking us into Moria. If Glassybri was in sight we must already be over the border. I was committed.

As we approached the high white-washed walls of Glassybri we passed many people going back towards Gallia. They were almost all Gallians, but here and there was a richly clad Ishtaki merchant. If the Ishtaki, those angels of commerce, were leaving, the future must look bad for the Church of the Burning Light. It was difficult for me to see ahead, riding as I was behind Parrus, but finally I could see the tall walls of the town before us. About that time we were forced to halt. A great crowd of people was lined up on the road waiting to enter Glassybri and we joined the queue. The sound of crying babies and complaining donkeys came from the line before us. Every now and then one of the gates seemed to swing open for a short time and the queue would move forward. Our horses snorted restlessly and moved their feet. As we waited, my palms became sweaty with fear though I kept telling myself to be calm. Behind us the line of people grew. In front of us a group of travelling masons and a mercenary played dice in the dust of the road.

Eventually we got close enough to the gates to see that they were letting groups of people through ten at a time.

Once there was shouting behind the gate and the tingling feeling of magic. I craned my head to look but Tomas pushed me back.

"Don't draw attention to yourself. And act like you don't know us. You two will be safer that way."

At that moment the gate swung open in front of us revealing a dark, narrow street within. The soldier at the gate counted ten of us through and the gate swung shut behind us.

Inside, the street was cordoned off and groups of soldiers and hard-faced women in the black and grey garb of Sisters of Light, the nuns of the Burning Light, stood beside it. We were ordered to stop and dismount. Tomas and Hamel had moved away from us so that they stood at the other side of the group. A man in grey and black had approached them.

"Well well," he was saying, "if it isn't Tomas Holyhands." Then I stopped watching them because the same kind of official had come up to us. He looked over the papers Parrus handed him with a disbelieving air.

"Borgonese, Hey? Very convenient. Ren Parrus Latrides. A merchant? Why are you coming into Moria?"

"My wife has a sister deathly ill in Annac. She wants to see her before she dies," said Parrus in his halting Morian.

The official had lost interest in Parrus even before he stopped talking.

"And you," he barked at me. "Answer. Where were you born?"

He questioned me quickly in Morian. Had I not been a native speaker, I might well have got flustered and made some mistake. As it was I was glad I'd spent three days speaking Morian to my brothers. You lose fluency in any language even your own, if you don't speak it.

Then he lifted up a crystal ball and pressed it against my forehead. I knew that ball. It turned blue in the presence of any trace of magic. I hoped Parrus had been careful as I had been not to use magic for the last ten hours. Still I felt frightened. What if they decided to do a mind search?

The official turned and barked at the waiting soldiers, "Search this lot. Jacques, Woody take the woman."

I was seized and pulled ungently towards the cordon. I squeaked in fright and might have used magic against them, but I was wearing the necklace and could do nothing.

"Hey! What are you doing with my wife?" shouted Parrus.

"Stand still," said the leader. He was running the ball over Parrus while one of the soldiers patted him down. Two soldiers began to pull our bags roughly from the saddle.

"Don't worry girlie," said one of my captors, not unkindly. "We have to search for healers."

He pushed me through the cordon where I was seized by two of the hard-faced women and hustled into a nearby alley.

"Am I being arrested for something?" I cried, too scared to think clearly.

"Maybe!" said one of them, a tall dour woman with cold black eyes. "Have you got something to confess?" Then without waiting for an answer, she said, "Now stand still and shut up."

The she began rubbing a crystal ball over me while the other woman pulled the scarf off my head and began running her fingers though my hair. A body search! My blood turned cold. Oh Aumaz. The necklace. She was sure to find it. And wearing such a strange iron necklace was going to look very suspicious. In fright I put my hands over my face and stood so for the whole search, shaking, in a state of the most shameful terror, while they patted over my torso and then lifted my skirts and felt over my legs and through my petticoats. I tried to bring to mind what I must do when they brought in the witch manacles but my mind was too filled with panic. Why did they go on? Why didn't they just get on with bringing on the witch manacles and dragging me off for a mind search? They were just getting a perverse pleasure out of tormenting me.

Suddenly they had finished.

"That's it. You're clean," said the tall one and the other one pushed me out of the alley. "Put on your scarf," said the tall one as she passed me going back to the cordon. "What kind of slut, are you?"

I stood there bemused with fear and relief. They hadn't found it. Why hadn't they found it? It was so pointy. I put my hand surreptitiously to my chest. Strangely enough I couldn't feel it either although I could feel the weight of it. Then finally, I remembered something Tomas had told me about how it couldn't be felt. I had been too busy being revolted by the necklace itself to really pay attention at the time. What a fool! All that fear for nothing. Yet how fascinating. An iron necklace that couldn't be felt. And couldn't be magic either or it would have shown up in the crystal ball. So how?

There were two priests seated on horses near the cordon. One of them, an extremely handsome fellow with a finely sculptured face and chestnut hair, glanced lingeringly at me and there was something in that glance that reminded me that I was standing here with my hair all uncovered and coming down. Quickly I smoothed and tucked in my hair, tied my scarf back around my head and started looking for the others.

A moment later the priest caught my attention again, when one of the officials came up to him and said, "This lot's clean, Priest Stalker."

Stalker! Why did that name sound familiar?

I wondered about it as I stood at the edge of the cordon waiting for the other travelers to file out. Parrus came over leading our horse and looking very shaken. We squeezed each others arms, both too relieved to be pretend detachment.

Then I heard Tomas's voice.

"Priest Stalker?" asked my brother politely addressing the handsome priest. "I wonder if I might speak with you."

The priest inclined his head, in much the same way as a saint would graciously accept our homage.

"My name is Tomas Holyhands. You visited our Inn in Annac. The Inn of the Holy Hands. Near the Monastery of the Healing Holy Hands of St Belkis.

"Ah yes I remember it. A lovely place. That explains your colorful name, my brother."

"You spoke with my sister while you were there. Tasha Holyhands! You words were an inspiration to her and after you left she decided to follow you south. Since then I have not seen her. It's almost three months, Holy One."

A strange expression came into the priest eyes. Then I felt something, a frisson of magic. My blood ran cold and I turned away quickly lest he see the knowledge on my face. Priest Stalker was obviously a very powerful priest-mage. This spell was strong but very subtle. What was he doing? I relaxed into the magic and a wave of liking for the priest washed over me. How sinister. He was using magic to make us like and trust him. I was a little shocked. Such magical tricks were forbidden to normal mages and would have brought a severe reprimand and maybe even jail if reported to the White College in Gallia. But here in Moria, of course, the Burning Light made its own rules.

Even though part of me knew quite coldly what he was doing, it was difficult for me to resist the feeling now I had let it in. I found myself nodding and smiling at him. Just like the other three were.

"I do remember her, Tasha Holyhands. Poor troubled creature. She wanted to become a priest-mage, but of course quite impossible for a woman. Forgive me, I know nothing about her. She never caught up with me, I'm afraid. Your Inn is the last place I saw her."

"But you told her of a place. A place she could serve the Church and use her powers."

"Did I? I wonder what I can have said."

There was something in the priest's manner that was not right, but I could not work out what it was because I liked him so much.

"And who are these good people," he said suddenly, running his eyes over us. "More of your family? I remember they were numerous, weren't they?"

"Just some people I met on the road," said Tomas. "My sister, Priest Stalker, can you remember nothing?"

"No I ... Wait, I may have told her of Sanctuary."

"Sanctuary?"

"Aye, it's a community of holy people started by Hierarch Jarraz whose prayers support our efforts to reclaim the Great Plain of Despair. Yes ..."

There was a shout from inside the cordon. A new batch of travelers was being searched. The Priest turned.

"I am needed. Tomas Holyhands, I would be glad to help you. If you call on me tonight at St Agnes Church House, I would be glad to tell you more."

He turned and spurred his horse away.

As we were mounting our horses, they brought a couple through the cordon, wearing witch manacles. Behind them rode the other priest, a very fat man. He was holding up a magic lens, the kind healers used to look at the life force of a patient and crying, "Behold these sinners. Be warned by their disgrace." The soldiers and the women searchers cheered. The malicious cheering reminded me of my flight from Moria back when I was 16 and I shuddered.

"Let's get out of here," said Tomas and we set off. We threaded our way through the narrow streets. I had forgotten the conversation with Darmen Stalker in my distress at seeing the couple in the manacle and so I was surprised when a short time later we halted outside an inn.

"I'll bespeak us some food and some beds," said Hamel as he jumped down from the horse.

"No Hamel," said Tomas. "Only food for the moment. I'll see to the horses."

It was early afternoon and the dining room of the inn was almost empty. Hamel found a seat by the fire and by the time Tomas came in from seeing to the horses, the maid was bringing out bowls full of savory smelling stew and a plate of bread and cheese.

Hamel waited till the maid was gone before he asked the question that was obviously most urgently on his mind.

"Are we not going to stay here tonight? What about this meeting with Darmen Stalker?"

"I'm not fully sure that I should go and see him," said Tomas.

I sat quietly and ate my stew while the men argued in low voices; Parrus adding his urgings to Hamel's. They all of them felt that they were closer to finding Tasha than they had yet been, but Tomas was mistrustful of Darmen Stalker, who was, after all, Hierarch Jarraz's secretary. Though initially I had planned to let the men decide because I thought my fear of the Witch Hunters might be clouding my judgment, I gradually became more and more sure that Tomas was right and that I must stop him from going to see Stalker.

"That man was using magic to make us like him," I said, breaking into the discussion. "I don't think we should trust him."

There was a stunned silence.

"You can't know that," snapped Parrus. "I didn't feel anything."

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I was more powerful than he, but instead I said, "I've felt such things before. It's not an unusual technique for Witch Hunter's to use if they can."

"You speak like some kind of expert," sneered Parrus.

"Well I'd obviously know more about it than you," I snapped.

"For God's sake keep your voices down," hissed Tomas. "Dion's right. I wondered why I liked him so much all of a sudden. I'd been dreaming of punching his face up till then. I knew something was wrong."

"You might ask yourself what kinds of things I saw before I fled Moria five years ago, Parrus," I hissed, unable to resist snapping at him. "I've dealt with Witch Hunters before. They're very cunning. Why was that Stalker man so interested in whether the rest of us were family? Because magic runs in families and they know it. It was always their habit in Mangalore to round up and put the blood relations of mages to mind search."

"There is no sin in having magical powers," said Hamel. "Only in using them outside the church."

"All they need to do is subject Tomas to a mind search and all will be revealed," I went on "They might not have the manpower to mind search everyone who comes into Glassybri but put that Stalker in a room alone with Tomas and what's to stop him. He's a priest-mage of some power."

"Aye," said Tomas. "Right then, I say we keep going. We've found out the main thing. That she may be, or have been, in the Great Waste at this Sanctuary place."

"If the dreams take place there," I said, "This Sanctuary is no sanctuary."

Hamel was silent for a moment.

"You're certain? That he was making us like him, I mean?" he asked.

"Oh yes."

"So am I now," said Tomas

"Aumaz! How underhand. I'm with you then. We'll go."

Parrus shrugged his shoulders, irritably. "Well if you want to go about this the most difficult way ..." he said. "She's your sister."

Tomas pushed his chair out from the table.

"Finish your meal. I'll go see to the horses." He squeezed my shoulder as he passed. "Thank you for backing me up, sister. I feel we are doing the right thing."

"Yes," said Parrus crossly. "I'm sure you've been a big help, Dion."

Hamel smiled sympathetically at me.

I couldn't help being hurt by Parrus' remark, and it was not until I was following him out into the courtyard, that I realized why he was so annoyed at me. Of course. I had bested him in magic and his pride was hurt. I'd had experiences like this with Parrus before, each one of them confirming that I had been right not to tell him about my powers. It probably hadn't helped that I had bested him at magic that was traditionally the province of mages too. Mages tended to be very touchy about the difference between healing magic and the far more highly regarded magic practiced by only male mages. That was probably the reason he was so scoffing about Wanderer prophecy too.

When we joined him in the inn yard, Tomas was standing by the horses talking heatedly with a small man with protruding rabbit like teeth.

"No!" Tomas was saying.

"So who's she then?" said the small man nodding at me.

"This is my sister," said Tomas sharply.

"Don't look much like you."

"She's my half sister," snapped Tomas. He grabbed the little man by the shirt and pulled his face up to his. "Look Nab, just push off. The place is crawling with Traps and I've got nothing for you.".

"Customer," muttered Tomas to Parrus' questioning look, as the little man disappeared into the crowded stable yard.

We mounted up and left Glassybri as quickly as we could.