Читать книгу The Three Sisters - Rebecca Locksley - Страница 8

Ezratah felt a sudden liking for Yani. He knew he should probably disapprove, but his pleasure at winning the fight seemed as innocent as a child's with a toy. The natives often had a certain appealing simplicity about them. Now, how to bring up the subject of the meeting at the stones?

'You must be going to fight in the St Stefan's day tournament,' he said to open the subject of travelling.

'Tournament? In Olbia?'

'Yes. Didn't you know? This is an important feast time. The midsummer festival of light is over and the harvest festival of Stefan, the warrior saint, occurs. Prince Alexus Scarvan hosts a tournament for all warriors, native and Mirayan. So you are not going to fight in it?'

'Oh yes, if there is a tournament and I may fight in it then I shall certainly do so.'

'So what takes you to Olbia in the first place?'

'To fight in the tournament,' smiled Yani teasingly. 'As you say, it is the feast of St Stefan.'

For a moment Ezratah was at a loss for words. A native had never spoken teasingly to him before. It was as if this fellow believed himself equal and something in Ezratah protested this. It took him a moment or two to regain his balance. In the meantime Yani took over the conversation.

'Are you going to Olbia too? Is there a tournament for mages?'

'I would have thought you were a mage yourself when I met you earlier,' Ezratah said. If the fellow was going to treat him as an equal there was no need to tiptoe around him, was there?

'Why?' Yani said with a wide-eyed innocence that Ezratah suspected was satirical.

'You used magic to get into that stone circle.'

'Did I? I really wouldn't like to say. They are a Tari secret, the stone circles.'

'Tari?' Ezratah asked.

Suddenly the table lurched. The mage's ale toppled into his lap.

'Fire and earth!' Yani swore. 'Get away, you beast. It's a dog.'

Ezratah pulled his robe away from his body before the beer could soak through to his skin. Using magic, he pulled the liquid off his robe and dropped it back into the cup. The unseen dog was well gone by the time he had leisure to pay attention to it.

The wench came to the table to replace Ezratah's beer with one that was not full of dust and bits of cloth. 'Lord,' she said softly in Seagani, and Ezratah was surprised to find that she was addressing the Tari. 'Lord, it is not safe for you to stay here tonight. Some of the other guests are angry that you beat their friends. They are sure to attack you in the night.'

'It's a cruel night to be out on the road. You are certain of this?'

The wench went back to the bar for another two cups of ale.

When she returned she said, 'When you leave here, turn to the left. There will be someone there who will lead you to a safe place to stay.'

'Why does she call you lord?' Ezratah asked when she was gone. 'Are you one?'

'No,' Yani said 'But her people have great respect for mine.'

'Your people? The Tari? And why is that?'

'I've never been much on history,' Yani shrugged.

'Fascinating,' Ezratah said sarcastically. 'So no one ever explained to you why they respect you?'

'If you ask them, perhaps they will tell you,' Yani replied blandly. She lifted up her cup and drained it in one gulp. 'Ahh!' she said with a sigh of satisfaction. 'Well now. I think it is time to go. The wench is nodding at me.'

She stopped and looked at Ezratah for a moment as if considering something. Then she said, 'Tell me, how will the other Mirayans take your disloyalty? You are welcome to come with me if you wish.'

Ezratah thought he would probably be safe enough in a backward place like this. He was unlikely to meet anyone with comparable magical powers. But he had no wish to lose track of the Tari, so he accepted the invitation.

As they walked through the bar, there was a low cheer of approval. Several people put out their hands and the Tari shook them all and muttered some words. At the door Yani turned, touched the posts and to Ezratah's astonishment, said, 'May the Circle of Life enfold and bless this house and everybody in it.'

There were nods and smiles all around.

It was raining heavily outside. Yani and Ezratah pulled their cloaks around themselves as the cold drops hit them in the face. When they moved away from the door of the tavern a figure slipped forward, took the Tari's arm and led them down the street and into a stinking, muddy lane. Soon they found themselves on the outskirts of the settlement, moving very unsteadily down a slippery path that led through a grove of trees.

A sacred grove, thought Ezratah with a tingle of excitement, before he remembered that such things no longer existed here in Southern Seagan now the religious edicts had been passed. Prince Alexus Scarvan had outlawed all the sacred groves in Southern Seagan and the shamans who served in them. A little voice at the back of his mind began to accuse him of idiocy. Here he was, alone and unprotected among people who were not his own kind and who had all sorts of strange beliefs. He had even heard stories of human sacrifice in the sacred groves.

Bent forward into the pouring rain, they passed through more trees and by a rickety hummock that was probably a Seagani bothy. Another bigger building loomed ahead. Its door was opened and candlelight beckoned. A barn. More substantial than many Seagani buildings and - Thank Mir! - weatherproof. Ezratah took off his cloak and shook it out. The place was lit by a lantern resting on a little table. There was a man with long, curling hair sitting on a low bench. His face registered shock when he saw the two of them. Ezratah could not tell if it was he or Yani the man was shocked by, but his expression changed quickly to one of bland calm. He had a hard, clever face. Ezratah thought he looked utterly untrustworthy.

Their guide turned out to be a heavily pregnant woman. She turned to Yani and said, 'Lord, do you wish for food?'

'Thank you, but I have my own food. I would not place a burden on this family.'

'It is no burden, lord. We often have extra for guests and it would be an honour to serve you,' the young woman said. Then she turned and saw that Ezratah was Mirayan. Dismay showed on her face.

'There are no beds for natives at the inn so my father rents space here,' she said defensively in trade talk.

'Do not fear,' Yani said in Seagani. 'He aided me against the others and has also offended them.'

The girl nodded and went away, though she shot a suspicious glance at Ezratah as she went. Ezratah wondered if he should continue pretending that he didn't speak Seagani. He had a feeling he had already revealed himself.

Yani turned to the man at the table and introduced himself and Ezratah.

'I am Duprey of the Horse Seagani. It is an honour to make your acquaintance,' replied the man. He stood up and came forward. He had a very bad limp. He was wearing native garb, including the boiled leather tunic that counted for armour among them. His face, however, was not marked by tattoos or tribal marks and he was clean-shaven. He wore his hair shorter than most natives and he was taller too.

Half-breed, thought Ezratah distastefully, for the mongrel mixing of Mirayan and native bloodlines resulted in weaklings and sycophants. That would probably explain the limp too. Though he might have got it in battle, it was the Mirayan practice to cripple convicted thieves in just such a way.

'It is unusual to see one of the Tari,' Duprey said. 'I must count it lucky.'

'I thank you,' Yani said, shaking the man's outstretched hand. Duprey held the Tari's hand for a moment longer than necessary, looking at his face almost as if he recognised him.

Was this Yani some kind of religious leader? When the girl came back with the food, she brought two other women: her middle-aged mother and a thirteen-year-old girl. They asked him to bless them, which he did, saying, 'May the Circle of Life enfold and bless you.' He even blessed the woman's unborn child, putting his hand on her swelling belly to do so.

Though Ezratah thought he had become used to the easy intimacy between native men and women, he could not help being shocked to see how readily the woman let a strange man touch her belly. She seemed to trust the Tari as completely as a child trusts its father. He must be some kind of religious leader.

'He will be a fine son,' Yani said in Seagani. 'Be firm but kind with him and he will be your joy and support for many years.'

'How do you know it is a son?' Ezratah asked after the women had left. 'Or did you just guess?'

Yani looked surprised.

'This close to its birth, I can feel the child's sex in its life spirit. A strong, healthy child.'

'Life spirit?' Ezratah asked.

'Yes, the spirit that flows through everything living and non-living. It binds the world together. Surely you Mirayans must know about life spirit? Even those Archipelagans who believe in other gods know its strength.'

Ezratah was taken aback. 'All life comes from Mir.'

'Is he one of your gods?'

'Mir is the only God. The one true God.'

'But what about this Kerum I've heard talk of?'

'Kerum was his messenger. His son. The priests say he is not separate from Mir but part of him.'

Ezratah was not sure he should discuss such an inflammatory subject as religion among so many strange folk. He sought to change the subject. 'In truth, if you want to know the way our religion works, you should speak with a priest. I am a mage and no expert on religion.'

For some reason this seemed to astonish Yani. The native man obviously understood why, for he shot Ezratah an impertinent, cynical look before returning to silently eating his soup.

There would probably be no harm in trying to find out what the native believed, Ezratah thought. Native superstitions were fascinating and often myths hid an element of fact.

'So this life spirit, does it have a name?' he asked

'No, of course not,' Yani said. 'It's not a person. Though it is conscious in a way of its own. Occasionally it does take on human shape to talk to us.'

'So it's a god?' Ezratah asked.

Yani frowned at him.

'I believe the life spirit is a kind of god,' Duprey said, looking warningly at Yani. The man obviously took Ezratah for a priest, who would be outraged by talk of spirits.

'But it isn't,' Yani said, ignoring Duprey's hint. 'Surely a god would be a separate being from us. The life spirit is part of us all. And I feel it - we Tari feel it always as part of us, making us one with the whole world. When I die the life spirit that animates me will return to the great Circle of Life and become part of the life which animates the world. I shall live again in the life spirit of others who are born after I die.'

'We Seagani also believe in the life spirit and we believe the Tari to have a special closeness to the elements of the universe and the Circle of Life,' Duprey said. 'It is a religious duty to treat them with care and respect.'

'I see,' Ezratah said. 'Are the Tari gods, then?' He could imagine what the priests would make of all this strange talk.

'No no,' Duprey said quickly. 'Just human. But they seek to promote harmony in the world and that is a valuable thing.'

'Harmony?' Ezratah asked, looking questioningly at Yani. Some kind of ritual no doubt.

'When the world is in harmony there is balance and the life spirit can be felt most easily,' Yani said. 'All the actions of a Tari's life should show this concern for harmony.'

It all sounded very cold and intellectual. 'What do ignorant people like peasants pray to when they need consolation with their lot?' Ezratah asked.

'We all commune with the life spirit,' Yani replied. 'We withdraw from the world and listen to it.'

'But is it not true. There is a place in Ermora where a person can experience being part of the great Circle of Life while still being alive,' Duprey said. 'I have heard that there the voice of destiny speaks to the Tari.'

'It is called the Spirit Cave,' Yani said carefully. 'And it exists because the elements that make up the life spirit are strongest and the most in balance in Ermora. There, your outer self becomes invisible and you become only life spirit.'

'Ah,' Ezratah said. Now he felt himself to be on more solid ground. They did have sacred places and gods, just like any other native religion.

'So tell me, Highness,' Duprey said, suddenly speaking directly to Ezratah. 'Are you going to Olbia for the Feast of St Stefan?'

'I am,' Ezratah said.

'So am I.'

'Will you fight there?' Ezratah said in a tone cool enough to discourage the fellow from being too familiar. This Yani was bad enough.

Duprey smiled. 'No. I am somewhat limited in my fighting. But my cousin will fight at St Stefan's. Do you also go to the tournament, lord? And will you fight there?'

'Very probably. But I am going to Olbia in search of my sister, Elena. She was wife to Eldene Mori and taken prisoner at Fleurforet. Perhaps you have heard of her? There is a child too, called Alyx.'

The hair stood up on the back of Ezratah's neck. He suddenly wished he had never come here with this Yani. The fellow had cause to hate Mirayans if he had some alliance with those pestilential Mori.

'The Mirayans hold one of your people captive!' Duprey cried incredulously. He shot a look at Ezratah. 'I'm surprised to see you travelling with a Mirayan if that's so.'

'He stood up for me against his own countrymen,' Yani said. 'So mage, you don't personally have my sister captive, do you?'

'No. Of course not,' Ezratah said, flustered.

'You see,' Yani said. 'There's no reason I should not be harmonious with this particular Mirayan.'

'You should ask him if he was - ' Duprey began.

'And I wasn't at Fleurforet either,' Ezratah snapped. 'The Mori were making raids on Duke Wolf's land and, after warning them, he attacked them. He cannot be blamed for his response after such provocation.'

'I see,' Yani said coolly. 'But did the duke not take land from the Mori in the first place?'

'They weren't using it,' Ezratah protested. 'They were letting it grow wild, making a refuge for wild beasts and outlaws that preyed on his lands.'

'Just because the Mori do not use the land as the Mirayans do is not reason to believe they are not using it at all,' Yani said gently. 'The Mori are hunters, not farmers. A wild forest is like a farm to them.'

Ezratah stared at Yani. What a ridiculous remark! Civilisation and human progress required settlement. His sense of survival warned him not to voice these remarks. He could be in danger here.

Fortunately Duprey changed the subject. 'Will you fight for your sister at St Stefan's, then?'

'Can I?' Yani asked, surprised.

'The winner of St Stefan's tournament may ask for one war captive to be released. Usually it is a Mirayan who wins, but if a native fighter makes a good showing, High Chief Scarvan is generous and allows him to ask for one too. After all, we have so many of our people in captivity.'

'What a strange custom,' Yani said. 'I had thought to simply ask for a ransom.'

Duprey shook his head. 'The Mirayans don't ransom except between themselves. Sometimes you can buy people back, but it depends on the owner. They are valuable, our women, with their spinning and weaving skills. Scarvan and his merchant friends have got very rich exporting woollen cloth to Miraya in the last few years.'

A slander on our good prince - to imply that a nobleman would dirty his hands with trade, thought Ezratah.

'I thought the Tari no longer left Ermora,' Duprey continued. 'But now here you are and you tell me your sister was married to Eldene Mori. Was it an alliance?'

'The Tari have little interest in the outside world. But I enjoy travelling and fighting, and my sister loved Eldene Mori. That is all.'

Duprey looked as if he would have liked to ask more but did not, so Ezratah did. 'Is Ermora your land? I've never heard of it. Where is it? And why do the Tari never leave it?'

'Ermora is the holy source of the Tari,' Yani said. 'It is a land where harmony dwells and the life spirit wells to the surface of the world. Magic is in the very air. Why would the Tari ever wish to leave such a place?'

'You are too generous, Lord Yani,' Duprey said. He turned to Ezratah. 'Once the Tari used to roam among us. They are mighty healers and mages and wherever they went, they sought to bring harmony and peace. That was a Golden Age. Then a Seagani king - Southern Seagani, not one of we Horse Seagani - trapped three of them and gave them to a death mage to feed to his demons. After that the Tari turned their backs on us and never again came among us. There is great regret among the people for that especially… ' He shot a quick, careful look at Ezratah. He obviously meant a slur against Mirayans and he dared not go on. Instead he turned to Yani and said, 'It was twenty-four years ago and those responsible for the wrong are all dead now.'

'It is not my decision to make,' Yani said uncomfortably.

'What exactly happened?' Ezratah asked.

'Twenty-four years ago, when the Mirayan death mage, Asgor, was laying waste to the Seagani lands around Olbia, my people sent three mages to combat him,' Yani said.

'Three!' Ezratah cried incredulously. What a ridiculously small number!

'Yes, they wanted to be sure he was defeated,' Yani said, clearly misunderstanding his exclamation. 'It has always been our duty to the Circle of Life to fight such death magic. But the ruler of that region, Gorice - '

'May his name be cursed for all eternity,' Duprey said.

'- was secretly in collusion with the death mage. He took the three captive and turned them over to Asgor, who fed them to his demons. This gave him great power. There is no worse fate for the Tari than to become demon fodder. They are truly destroyed for their essence cannot return to the great Circle of Life to become part of the world again. One of the mages was my father, Garroway.'

'So it was your grandmother, Mathinna, who defeated Asgor!' Duprey cried.

'You know your history.'

'How could a single woman defeat a death mage?' Ezratah cried in astonishment. How could these men even act like they believed such outrageous nonsense?

'What?' Yani cried.

'Highness, we are talking of Tari mages,' Duprey explained. 'And they are a people of such mighty magic that they can defeat death mages and even demons in a single combat. As one who was there said,

As Olbia exhausted lay

beneath the horror of that act

The world cracked open

And a Tari queen came walking

tall and calm,

To wrench the world back into joint

with a single flicker of her eye.'

'Fine words,' Yani said admiringly.

'I wish I had been there to see your grandmother come down that hill,' Duprey said.

'The words you speak are admiring, yet surely there must be some ill feeling over what happened next.'

'What did happen next?' Ezratah asked.

'A Tari, but not Yani's grandmother, made the Tower of Olbia fall into the sea,' Duprey said. 'There is little ill feeling about that: Gorice was giving over his own people to fuel Asgor's spells and they were glad to see him dead. The real disaster happened after that.'

'Hold your tongue you cheeky fellow!' Ezratah snapped. 'The countryside was in chaos when Prince Alexus Scarvan arrived. There were blood beasts and other death servants roaming the land, and no organisation to speak of. That is why they offered him the crown. We Mirayans brought peace and the Seagani should be damned grateful.'

A flash of anger appeared in Duprey's eyes.

'I meant only to refer to the disappearance of the Tari,' he said coolly. 'You speak as one who has a guilty heart.'

The two men glared at each other.

'Good men, let us not have hard words,' Yani said quickly. 'These matters are long past now.'

It was on the tip of Ezratah's tongue to tell the fellow to shut up and moreover to dispute this ridiculous story about Yani's grandmother killing a death mage single-handedly. But he was outnumbered here and far from help. He had been a fool to ever come.

'Will you tell me more about this tournament of St Stefan?' Yani asked peaceably.

'I think I will sleep now,' Ezratah said shortly. He was too annoyed to pander to this arrogant fellow any longer. He retired to a corner of the hayloft, which he warded very thoroughly against enemies before he went to sleep. He lay awake for a time listening to Yani and Duprey talking, but they were not saying anything nasty about Mirayans. The Seagani had travelled much on the peninsula - for nefarious purposes no doubt - and had many sprightly tales to tell, some of them as improbable as the tale of a single female mage overcoming a demonmaster.