Drogoya: Book 3 Circles of Light series, page 4
Babach found Voron pacing, frantically worried, in the lower sitting room. The Observer slumped in Chakar’s armchair. He allowed himself only the briefest of rests then climbed back to his feet.
‘Come along boy, we must open the ways down here. There are many to shelter, although nowhere near as many as I would have wished.’
Voron did not speak as he watched Observer Babach move along the passages. A finger raised, a murmured word, and rock dissolved into doorways. Room after room appeared, large and small. Finally Babach turned back to Voron, a sad smile on his face.
‘Chakar had long prepared for something like this, while always hoping it would never be needed.’ He tilted his head. ‘Go and open the doors Voron, and bring them down here. The worst injured will go in the first large room on the right.’
Voron wrote down the names of all who came down the ladder, through the tiny cellar and into the underground world. Lyeto did not seem as surprised as any of the others at the extensive cavern he saw under Chakar’s cottage. He noticed Voron’s speculative eye on him and gave a tired smile.
‘I guessed there was a cellar of some size here, but I did not know how great it would be,’ he said.
Melena and two boys began to prepare a meal in one of the larger rooms Babach had designated as their common room. The first sitting room, where Sava guarded Chakar’s armchair, was left by unspoken agreement to Babach and Voron. Babach gathered the mobile survivors into the common room.
‘Many of you have learned from Chakar, the fact that the long serving Sacrifice is not worthy of your trust. More than that, I have to tell you, impress upon you, that he is our enemy. Beneath these rocks he cannot trace us – he will believe all at the Oblaka died in the fires set by the three minions he placed among us.’
While there were several shocked murmurs, many others in the room nodded in understanding.
‘Chakar and I have spent years trying to ascertain from whence Cho Petak came. All we have discovered points in the same direction. The Lost Realms.’
In the deep silence that followed, a wailing cry came from the room where lay the desperately hurt ones, quickly cut off as a door was closed.
‘But where is Observer Chakar?’ a young voice asked tremulously.
Babach lowered himself to a stool and bent his head for a moment. Then he looked up again.
‘Observer Chakar and the Offering, Ren Salar, are in the Night Lands.’
This time there was no silence only an increasing buzz of questions. Babach raised a hand.
‘Voron, fetch the scrolls if you would. I will explain all I can before we sleep. And I will continue to sleep above, in the cottage. Let Cho Petak know the Oblaka does not lie deserted.’
Voron promised himself he would argue the old man out of that decision as he hurried to fetch the maps and documents received from the Night Lands. Voron had nothing but admiration and respect for Babach as he explained, repeated, answered questions, without once raising his voice or showing anything other than a serene patience. Voron knew the old man was exhausted, angry and worried, yet no sign did he give of those feelings. Finally it was Voron who could take no more.
‘Enough for now,’ he said, standing up, his hand on Babach’s shoulder. ‘We will all try to sleep and begin again tomorrow. You must remember though, none of you can leave the shelter of these caves without betraying your presence to any who may be far watching. I will come to check the injured throughout the night. Tomorrow we will arrange rotas for necessary work – cooking, cleaning and so on, and the healers among you must also work strict shifts. We are few: we must find the best ways of living and working down here as quickly as we can. But now, we all need to rest.’
He caught Lyeto’s eyes and the student nodded, getting to his feet too and herding the knots of young people out to their allotted sleeping quarters. Voron helped Babach up, thinking how very young these survivors seemed. He was only just past thirty and yet none of these could be even twenty five.
After a broken night, checking the badly burned patients and fretting over Babach’s obstinate insistence on going up to the cottage, Voron rose before dawn. He went quietly to the washing cave, then on to the viewing ledge, his mind already occupied with what he had to do this day. He turned onto the ledge and stopped abruptly.
A naked woman, long grey hair tousled around her shoulders and back, lay slumped along the inner cliff wall. Cautiously he approached and knelt beside her. Strands of hair rippled as she breathed. Voron carefully pushed her hair back and stared in disbelief at the unconscious face of the Offering, Finn Rah. He raced back to his cubby hole room, grabbed a quilt from the bed and rushed back to the ledge. He wrapped the quilt over the woman’s shoulders, rolled her gently towards him then scooped her up in his arms. She weighed next to nothing as Voron hurried along to the first sitting room. Holding his burden to his chest, he pulled cushions from the armchairs, laid them before the fire and put Finn Rah upon them.
Poking the fire until it brightened, he swung the kettle over it and turned back to the woman. He laid the back of his hand to her cheek and frowned at the chill he felt. He sped off for more covers from his own bed which he piled around her, then sat waiting for the kettle to boil. He was making berry tea when she groaned. He went back to her side, raising her head and shoulders and pushing more cushions beneath. Her face was drawn with exhaustion, her closed eyes shadowed and dark. The eyelids fluttered open and green pupilled, silver eyes stared up at him blankly.
‘Hush. You are at the Oblaka. What’s left of the Oblaka that is,’ Voron heard himself babbling and stopped. ‘How came you to be on the ledge? What can I do to help you?’
‘You can give me some tea, unless you have something stronger which would be preferable.’
The voice was faint but still held the acerbic tone Voron remembered from lectures he’d attended in the Menedula.
‘I have nothing stronger I’m afraid,’ Voron apologised, fetching the mug of tea he had just poured for himself.
A thin hand reached eagerly for the drink but trembled so violently that Voron had to hold the mug as Finn Rah drank.
‘Where are Babach or Chakar?’ she demanded, her voice stronger.
Voron sat back on his heels. Clearly the Offering knew this system of caves beneath Chakar’s cottage, but what should Voron tell her?
‘The truth please, at once.’ Finn read his thoughts with no difficulty. ‘And more tea while you’re about it.’
Slowly at first then with gathering speed, Voron told her everything: everything from the time of his close questioning by Master Krolik, and his subsequent flight from the Menedula with Ren Salar, to the burning of the Oblaka the previous night.
Finn Rah struggled upright in the cocoon of covers Voron had wrapped her in. A quilt slipped from her shoulder and she belatedly realised her nakedness.
‘If you could find me a shirt, trousers?’ she raised a brow at him.
‘Oh. Oh yes.’ Voron went back to one of the many shallow caves he had seen packed with just such items. He picked up two shirts at random and a pair of soft woollen trousers. The first sounds came to him of others beginning to stir in the newly opened rooms further on as he trotted back to the sitting room.
He found Babach in Chakar’s armchair talking earnestly to their newest arrival. Finn took the clothes without a glance at them and dragged a shirt over her head. Babach and Voron politely averted their eyes as she pulled on the trousers. She stood up but swayed perilously and Babach caught her, forcing her to sit back on the heap of bedding by the fire.
Babach went to the table, retrieving the maps and papers he had shown to the gathering last night, and handed them wordlessly to Finn Rah.
‘We must check the injured,’ the old man said to Voron.
Three of the eleven most dreadfully burned had died and Babach gave murmured instructions to Lyeto. He mentioned only vaguely that the Offering Finn Rah had arrived here a few hours ago. He stressed that Finn Rah was a deeply loved and trusted friend of both himself and Observer Chakar when he glimpsed a few suspicious faces.
Voron and Babach returned to their sitting room to find Finn Rah making more tea and hooting companionably to Sava, who swayed from foot to foot in delight on Chakar’s chair. Quietly, Finn recounted what she had seen and heard in the Menedula before she fled. She told of several burning farms and an entire village in flames.
‘How did you get here?’ Voron asked, feeling he was missing something.
Finn met Babach’s eyes and sighed. ‘I used the oldest magic that Myata taught. I became a pigeon, and I flew here.’
Voron could only stare, knowing she spoke the simple truth.
‘Babach it is dangerous for you in the cottage above.’ Finn turned her attention to the old man. ‘Cho Petak will surely check more than once. It is too dangerous.’
Babach smiled sweetly and tugged his braided beard. ‘I have to be there in case the Plavats return.’
Finn sat cross legged on her nest of covers and considered. ‘If Chakar and Ren came back and saw the destruction, would they still check inside here?’
Babach lifted his hands. ‘Perhaps. Perhaps not, if Chakar could not find my mind.’
‘I will take turns with you.’ It was a statement leaving no room for any argument.
Babach slept above for the next two nights, while Finn spent some hours in the cottage during the days. Two more students died of their burns and a daily routine was established among the eighty new residents.
Baryet arrived with the dawn on the third morning, left the scroll case and announced he had family matters to attend to some leagues up the coast. He informed Babach that he would be back in two days time and would then leave at once for the Night Lands. That night, Cho Petak did check the Oblaka once more, and he found Babach’s mind signature. The Sacrifice in his high rooms in the Menedula smiled, raised his left hand and pointed the little finger to the north west.
Finn Rah found the Observer when she went up to the cottage the next morning. He was alive, barely, conscious only through a huge effort of will. Finn summoned Voron and Lyeto and they smothered the deep burns with cooling salves. Babach seemed to sleep then and Finn told Voron she thought he should leave.
‘When that Plavat comes back, you must take Babach to Chakar.’
Voron nodded although he was appalled at the idea of five days on Baryet’s back with a desperately sick Babach.
Lyeto nodded too. ‘She is right,’ he told Voron as though Finn wasn’t there. ‘Cho Petak will now believe that no one survives here. It will give us a little more time. Babach will die within days if he stays here I think,’ he glanced at Finn and she tightened her lips in silent agreement.
‘They may have healers in the Night Lands who can better deal with these injuries. Voron, you must take him. And warn them of what has befallen us. It may be our only chance to survive, and theirs too.’
Chapter Four
Lashek was delighted to have the opportunity to be one of the first Vagrantians to set foot on their ancient lands again. He resembled a prosperous farmer rather than a leader of his people and Lord Seboth found himself warming to the Speaker of Segra Circle.
On the second day of his visit, Tika found Lashek alone in one of the many small gardens hidden within Seboth’s sprawling manor. He was kneeling, bent over a tired looking plant, brushing his fingers lightly over its drooping leaves and muttering softly. He glanced up at Tika and beckoned her to join him. She knelt at his side and heard more clearly the words he spoke. She looked from Lashek to the plant and back in confusion.
The Speaker was saying a nursery rhyme, very similar to ones Tika herself had heard in the women and children’s quarters in Return. Lashek sat back, smiling with satisfaction. Tika glanced at the plant. She gaped. The leaves now positively bristled with vigorous life. Tika regarded the plant thoughtfully.
‘I was hoping to speak with you Lashek,’ she said. ‘Do you know the story of my soul bonding with Farn, and how Lady Emla’s friends, Kemti and Iska, may the stars guard her memory, freed my mind from its restrictions?’
Lashek stood up, holding out a grubby hand to Tika.
‘Mim told us something of it.’
He led her to a bench and they sat on the sun warmed stone.
‘Have you noticed anything about Seboth and his brother?’ she asked casually.
Lashek chuckled and waited for her to say more.
Her silvered eyes flashed briefly up at him, the pupils green as the new shoots in the garden around.
‘I thought, perhaps, you might know how to free the power they have within them.’
‘That would be a serious matter my dear. Sapphreans today still regard power, magic, with the greatest suspicion.’
‘But Seboth is very different from most. He is also held in high regard by the other Lords.’
Lashek pondered a while. ‘If you can find me some of those exquisite pastries we were given yesterday, you might persuade me to discuss the matter with Lord Seboth,’ he said solemnly.
Tika grinned at him and jumped up. ‘As good as done, Speaker Lashek.’
She raced off into the building and Lashek closed his eyes, turning his face up to the sun. Perhaps the child was right. If one of the Sapphrean Lords was shown to have the magic in him, and used it as it should always and only be used? Feet pounded back along the flagged path and Lashek opened one eye. He inspected the dish Tika held beneath his nose and beamed in pleasure.
‘I do believe I am quite persuaded dear child.’
Gan, Sket and Riff became most friendly with Olam, Seboth’s brother and Armschief. They gave him many details previously omitted, in long talks about the battle for the Stronghold. Olam told Seboth that he would be glad to have three such men beside him in a fight. Neither Seboth nor his brother missed the fact that the three were, even now, constantly protective of Tika and, by association, of Elyssa and Maressa. Seboth had accepted the presence of the two armsmen, after his initial surprise, as equals and friends of Tika and Gan.
Kephis being unknown in Sapphrea, Khosa, Queen of the Kephis of the Golden Lady’s Estate, was given great attention. She stalked the corridors and rooms of Seboth’s manor, orange tail regally upright, and expected doors to be instantly opened for her. She avoided most of the children, who evinced a distressing delight in pulling the royal tail. This evening, she was arranged upon Lallia’s knees before the fire, buzzing contentedly as Lallia kept up a constant stroking of her back.
Tika broached the subject of power, carefully watching the reactions of the three Sapphreans. The conversation dodged and twisted around the main point until Khosa sat up, giving an enormous yawn.
‘What the child is trying to say, is that all three of you have the potential within you to use the power.’
Maressa and Elyssa closed their eyes. Tika glared at the Kephi. Lashek, Gan and Ren kept their gaze fixed on the Sapphreans. Mixed emotions warred on all three faces, Lallia and Olam both turning to Seboth to provide a reply to the Kephi’s outrageous statement. Eventually, Seboth gave a nervous laugh.
‘It must be obvious to you all that I am not sure whether to regard this news as a blessing or a curse.’
‘Discuss it between you, think about what it might mean. Make no decision now about whether you wish to learn more or not. But just let me demonstrate something.’
Lashek rose to stand before the Lord of Far.
‘If it helps you, close your eyes. But try to see with your mind’s eye: look through my forehead and see what you will.’
Lallia closed her eyes but Seboth and Olam kept theirs open, staring hard at Lashek’s lined brow. Lallia suddenly tightened her grip on Khosa who slitted her eyes in annoyance. Olam’s jaw sagged while Seboth’s eyes widened in surprise.
‘It is like a jewelled web that I see,’ Seboth whispered, Olam and Lallia nodding agreement.
‘Enough.’ Lashek returned to his chair. ‘I swear to you that I did nothing except open my own mind to yours. It was the power, or magic, within you that, for the first time perhaps, you consciously focused. I must tell you that we do not crash into each others’ minds. If I tried to enter your minds you would know at once. One of the first things we teach our children is to respect the privacy of others’ thoughts.’
Seboth nodded then glanced at his wife and brother. ‘It grows late and Lashek has given us plenty to think on. We will speak more on this matter tomorrow. Now we will leave you to yourselves.’
Goodnights were exchanged and the door closed behind the Sapphreans. Elyssa giggled.
‘I wager they will be practising that half the night!’
Gan grinned. ‘No wager, Lady Elyssa.’
‘Gan, I feel drawn to the west,’ Tika said abruptly. ‘Is it possible for us to go into the salt lands?’
‘I have made some enquiries. I also feel we should go in that direction – stars know why.’
‘It is where the Valsheban cities lie buried,’ Lashek said softly. ‘And I wish I could accompany you, but I promised Thryssa that I would join her in Gaharn. I was allowed four days only here,’ he said mournfully.
‘Brin has flown over to the Bitter Sea several times. He says there are occasional patches of green. He stopped at one and found clear water.’
‘What did you find out Gan?’ Lashek asked.
‘Hunters do occasionally go two or three days on foot, and they report no fresh water.’
‘I will ask Brin to check as accurately as he can,’ said Tika.
Lashek smiled. ‘Why not ask Maressa? After all, air mages are taught to estimate distances rather precisely.’
Tika blushed. ‘I’m sorry. I forget how differently you use the power. Would you do it Maressa?’
‘Of course,’ Maressa replied calmly. ‘On condition that I can come too.’
‘I had assumed we would all go,’ Tika sounded indignant.
Ren cleared his throat. ‘On horses – I mean, koninas?’ he asked warily.
Gan patted Ren’s shoulder. ‘I think we would take at least six koninas: Sket and Riff are quite happy with them. If Seboth is agreeable to our journeying to the coast, I do not doubt that he will send at least two of his own armsmen with us.’
