A Dragon From the Desert, page 28
Ghoran said, “it remind me of head of Thrad in the Northlands.”
“I suppose that’s bigger,” Jay said.
“Yes,” Ghoran said. “Thrad head bigger than whole body of statue. We think body in earth beneath but now I no so sure.”
“Who made it?” Ruth asked. “The Solari never settled as far north as your homeland.”
“Old Ones build him,” Ghoran said. “Carving very different. It covered in runes and magic crackle from it.”
Ruth said, “I have heard that the Eldrim build in a very different style from us because their senses are so different from ours.”
Jay and I shuffled our feet uncomfortably and looked away. Discussing the Old Ones was not something that you did where I grew up. Showing too much knowledge of them or curiosity about them was frowned upon.
Ghoran did not seem dismayed. “So I hear. In Northlands they worshipped as gods still.”
The way he said it left it ambiguous as to whether he worshipped them or not. He had probably been brought up in the Old Faith the way many people in the Bleak Lands still were in isolated communities. It would not be politic him to mention that here. Particularly not when there were representatives of the Church within easy earshot. They were probably already suspicious of him. Then again, they seemed suspicious of everybody.
“Have you ever seen an Old One?” Ruth asked. She stared intently at Ghoran.
“Once, late at night, in the distance.”
Jay forgot to use his mocking tone. “What did it look like?”
We were all quiet now. Ghoran looked out to sea and his face was a mask as if he was trying to hide some deep emotion. “Like big bird.”
Jay laughed. “Maybe it was a big bird.”
“Maybe,” Ghoran said. “If big bird turn into most beautiful woman you ever see. Stark naked and glow with silver light like the moon.”
Jay’s laughter died in his throat. “You saw this?”
“Yes. She dance across ridge in light of stars. Sing too. I hear in the distance. I lucky. Many men hear song, follow and never come back.”
I had a sense that he was not telling us everything.
We were silent for a moment. The waves crashed against the shore. Jay walked along the beach and jumped onto the body of the fallen stone giant. He ran up onto the shoulder, showing a sense of balance you would not have expected in a boy so chubby.
It struck me then that he too was not what he appeared to be. He looked like an overweight friendly lad, but he was prepared to kill people with his crossbow or his blade if need be.
I wondered about the way my mistress had mentioned locksmiths when she talked about him. It seemed as if she knew something about Jay that I did not.
Jay stood on the crumbling shoulder and jumped up and down and waved at us like a child at play. Ruth laughed.
Ghoran stooped and picked up a stone from the sand and tossed it in Jay’s direction, not trying to hit him. I did not doubt he could have done that if he wanted to. Instead he sent it ricocheting off the stonework near enough to be frightening.
“Hey, cut it out,” Jay shouted. Ghoran bent down and picked up another stone and tossed it. Jay pretended to wobble on his perch. He was very convincing but somehow, he never fell.
Ruth kept laughing. I wasn’t tempted to throw stones myself. I didn’t want to see Jay fall into the water. I had no idea how deep it was and whether there might be more of the statue hidden beneath it.
From behind us, came a call from one of the soldiers, telling us it was time to get back, that the caravan was going to move off.
The four of us looked at each other. We were happy, smiling. Something of enchantment clung to this place. Jay was right about that. He made his way back to the beach and we trudged up the sand back towards the caravan to which we belonged.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I cannot pick out many details of that afternoon from my memory. Just a vague impression that it was warm, and the sky was a clear blue and seagulls flew overhead cawing.
My dragonling screeched back at them and flapped his wings as if he was tempted to pursue but he never did. Perhaps it was all for show. He was simply preening himself and preparing for the life of a hunter. My mistress must have read her book. That’s what she normally did as I guided the cart.
It’s funny how memory slips away. Some things about that day I can recall more clearly than events that happened this morning. Most of it has gone now, slipped away down the stream of time, going wherever our memories go, lost with everything else I have forgotten. I wish I could remember it all. I wish I knew a spell that would let me do so but I don’t and so I must rely on my own imperfect recollection. And that is one of the sadnesses of life, even for wizards.
Chapter Thirty
In the distance, the ruins my mistress had talked about hove into view. Once they might have been a palace or fortress or some combination of both. Whatever it had been, it had long ago crumbled. It was in the same Solari style as the fallen soldier on the beach, made from the same stone. It had the same colour and the same sense of time having eroded their shape. The years are hungry beasts and they devour everything in the end.
The soldiers stopped singing. Desultory conversation echoed down the line. The scouts raced ahead to check out the ruins. Despite my mistress’s reassurances, I wondered if they were haunted.
Mistress Iliana surveyed the stonework lazily, like someone who has seen a thing a hundred times before then her eyes returned to the text in her hand. It was covered in strange runes. They were not the ones that Ruth was teaching me. They did not have the look of the magical symbols that encoded her spells either. I was tempted to ask what she was reading but I knew she would not thank me for the interruption. A frown of concentration cracked the paint on her brow. What could have been that was so important? I swore that one day I would find out. I would find out everything.
Huge walls lined the top of the ridge but much of the stonework had crumbled, leaving only massive blocks buried in the earth. Scrub grass grew around them. Once again there were signs of the passage of other caravans. Some people might have been frightened of this place but clearly merchants and others used it as a stopping off point.
We drew up within the ruins. Spider rode around giving orders to set up camp. Everyone had a lazy relaxed feel about them. The more relaxed they got, the more worried Spider looked. I suppose it was his job.
The monks arrived last along with their cart. They were unusually quiet as they surveyed the ruins. Perhaps this had been a holy place once, a monastery or an abbey. Perhaps it had some religious significance. That was one secret I was not so keen to learn. I wanted to have as little as possible to do with Frater Xander and his brethren. Perhaps it was the fact that I was a sorcerer that made me feel that way. I’ve certainly met priests enough who would have said that. But I think it was something else. I simply did not trust the man and, by association, those who accompanied him.
In any case camp was made and servants cooked after fires were lit.
Many soldiers climbed the broken walls, all staring out towards the sea in a specific direction. It was as if they expected to witness something.
I mentioned this to my mistress.
“There are watching for the glow of the lighthouse,” she said. “It will be visible tonight. The sky is clear.”
I began to think that perhaps I should go and join them. I asked her if I could.
“I would not deny you the first sight of that wonder, boy,” she said. I thanked her and raced off to see if I could find Ruth.
The gloom gathered as twilight came on. The large tent was already set up and it seemed as if Lady Alysia was settling in. Ruth emerged with her wax tablet and stylus under her arm, and she smiled when she saw me.
“You are keen for your lesson,” she said.
“I thought we could go and look at the lighthouse first. Everybody else seems to be doing it.”
“Of course,” she said. Perhaps it was my imagination, but she did not seem as keen on it as I would have liked. It did not stop me from guiding her through the camp towards the towering partially tumbled wall.
As we went, I saw a long line of soldiers had drawn up near the monk’s wagon. The clerics had broken out the ale once more to celebrate the coming end of the journey. Jay was in the queue though Ghoran stood apart. I did not want either of my friends joining us, so I slipped along in the shadows as much as I could.
A stair ran from the foot of the ruined wall to the top. It looked old and rickety but it was clearly the only way to get up unless we planned on climbing. I led the way and Ruth followed. Red flapped along above, catching the excitement in the air.
We reached a ledge that might have been the remains of an old floor or perhaps a buttress for the planks of a high wooden ceiling. Soldiers crowded there and stared into the distance but there were fewer of them that I had seen earlier. Many had been lured down by the prospect of free beer.
I glanced back. The crowd was thicker. Fires burned. The cook hunched over his pots. Cowled figures moved through the camp. Frater Xander talked with Vorster and his friends over by the horses. The monk seemed to be feeding them sugar lumps. The thought disturbed me. It was out of character for the man although I could not say how. He had not struck me as one to be kind to animals.
I was going to say something, but Ruth tugged my arm. I turned and looked in the direction she was pointing. A second dawn threatened to break over the horizon, a golden glow to the north-east, slowly intensifying, then vanishing and returning.
It reminded me of the flicker of lightning, but it was much slower, and the light was golden, not the brief actinic glare of the thunderbolt nor the silver of moonlight. There was a strangeness to it unlike anything I had ever seen.
We remained there so long that the others left. It was almost as if we had planned it. I knew I should return to see to my mistress, but I was determined not to leave this spot until Ruth did. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I was overwhelmed by the sense of her nearness.
“What is the glow?” I asked eventually. I did not really expect an answer.
“It is the lighthouse,” said Ruth.
“Why does the light come and go in such a way.”
“There are four stones at the top of it, mounted on a rotating platform. At night, an ancient engine causes the platform to go around so that the light can be seen in all directions.”
I looked at her and smiled. “How do you know so much?”
She looked upset.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s because…” Red chose that moment to squeak loudly and flutter his wings. I don’t know what upset him, but he could not have picked a worse moment. Ruth looked as if she wanted to tell me something important, but his sudden plea for attention distracted her, or perhaps gave her the excuse to keep quiet. It was as if a veil suddenly dropped over her face.
“What’s wrong?” I repeated.
She looked at me with her large brown eyes and said, “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You are upset.” Something in my tone put her on the defensive.
She sighed. “I have been happy these past days in a way I should not have been with…with Lady Alysia so sick. I have been free in a way I have never been before and likely will never be again. It’s all ending now. We are almost at Solsburg. And I must go back to my old life. That’s what that glow means.”
What she was saying did not make much sense to me then. “I’ve been happy too,” I said. “Happier than ever I expected to be. Because you were near me.”
My heart was pounding, and my mouth was dry and what I said felt extraordinarily bold. We had turned to face each other. Our hands touched, and a spark passed between us as powerful as that of any spell. Neither of us really knew how to deal with that. I looked at my feet.
Red screamed again and beat his wings frantically. I almost cursed him. He was ruining the moment whatever it was, but then I noticed what he was trying to draw my attention to. It was quiet, very quiet. There was no singing. There was very little sound of movement beneath us. I looked down and saw figures sprawled.
“It looks like everyone has fallen asleep,” said Ruth.
“That can’t be right,” I said, starting to get nervous and guilty. Mistress Iliana would be looking for me now, and I might be in trouble. At the same time, the hair on the back of my neck prickled.
“Not everybody’s asleep,” said Ruth, “I can still see some people moving down there. Monks maybe. We’d better get back. We’ve been up here a long time.”
Disappointment, nervousness and a strange mix of emotions warred within me. Red screamed again as if he agreed with her. I would have been happy to stay up there all night, and it was not just because I wanted to be with her. I felt as if something was wrong down in the camp, and by staying up here we might avoid whatever it was. There was a tension between my shoulder blades now. I checked at my belt and found my father’s dagger was still there. The feel of its hilt was reassuring in my hand.
Ruth had already started down the stairs, picking her way carefully, one hand on the wall. I followed her down into the oddly quiet camp.
Soldiers sprawled on the ground, quiet as if they had fallen into an enchanted slumber. I wondered if that was what it was. Was there something about these ruins that affected people. I had not felt any magic at work.
Some men stood near their companions, talking to them, asking them what was wrong, wondering whether they sick. I heard someone say that Mistress Iliana should be sent for. I saw Ghoran sitting beside Jay, axe in hand. Jay’s eyes were wide, and he was babbling as if feverish.
Before we reached them, the Northlander got up and picked his way through the camp in the direction of Mistress Iliana’s tent. Part of me wanted to go with him, but part of me also wanted to make sure that Ruth got back safely. There was still that odd tension in the air, a sense of weird menace. Red screeched again and fluttered his wings. He flapped over to where Jay lay and began licking his face.
“There you are,” said Jay. “Where is that big northern bastard? Snuck away again. I don’t feel so good. Must have been something I ate. Always knew Clarin’s cooking would get me one day.”
Ruth bent over him and touched his brow. “He’s sweating, and he feels feverish.”
She must have had plenty of experience of that looking after her mistress, so I was prepared to take her word for it. “It looks like there’s been an outbreak of sickness. Maybe bad water from the spring.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Must be plenty bad judging by the number of men who have gone down with it.”
I stood up and looked around. It seemed as if more than half the soldiers were sick, and the other half stood over them looking more and more worried as men will when they are concerned about their friends and fearing that they might go down with something themselves.
Ruth said, “I don’t think he’s going to die, but there’s definitely something wrong with him. I’d better get back and check on my mistress.”
I wanted to wait with Jay, and I wanted to go with her. Jay must have noticed the expression on my face for he said, “Go. I know you like her. I’ll be fine.”
He closed his eyes and began to snore. I wondered where Ghoran was. Some of the monks were moving through the camp. They bent over some of the sleeping soldiers, and loudly pronounced it was Umbral fever. It was not a disease I had ever heard of, but they seemed to know what they were talking about.
Somewhere in the distance, a horse neighed. I thought it belonged to our riders although the direction seemed wrong. I told myself that one of the horses had probably broken its tether and gone for a wander, but my uneasiness was growing.
Ruth looked in the direction of the coach and the white pavilion and looked at me. “I had really better go,” she said. “Lady Alysia still needs me.”
I nodded and followed her. The tent was quiet, and the usual guards were nowhere to be seen. I said, “Where are the sentries?”
Ruth stepped inside the tent. I took a last look around and followed. A moment later I heard a muffled gasp. I tripped over something on the floor and hit the ground hard. It took me a moment to realise I had stumbled over a body.
I lay on the ground, stunned by fall. Red flapped over me. Another body lay close and I crawled over to it. I found I was looking into the face of Lady Rebeka. The floor under my hands felt sticky in the darkness. I raised them to my face. They smelled of blood.
I pushed myself to my feet and took in more details of the scene within the tent. Lady Alysia lay on her mattress, a dagger protruding from her breast. Another servant sprawled on the floor, a dark patch stained the back of his robe where a blade had obviously gone in. Ruth had her back to the wall and Frater Xander advanced on her, knife in hand.
For a moment, I wondered what he was doing standing there with bloodied dagger in his hand, with him being a monk, but then the knowledge slowly percolated in that he was not a holy man at all.
“Leave her alone!” I shouted. Red screamed defiantly. Frater Xander turned his head to look at me. His eyes narrowed. His lips compressed.
“Get out, boy!” he shouted. “If you want to live.”
“Leave Ruth alone,” I repeated. I tore my dagger from its sheath and brandished it.
Xander smiled. “You’re not even holding that correctly. It should be like this.”
He stabbed at Ruth who leapt to one side.
I raced at him and he twisted with unbelievable speed and tossed his dagger at me. It flew straight and true and would have taken me in the gut had not Red flapped into the way. The little dragon squealed as the knife punctured his breast and flopped to the ground, wings twitching. A stab of pain in my belly almost dropped me.
Xander shook his head, like a man contemplating an unfortunate turn of cards, glanced at Ruth and then at me, trying to decide which of us to kill first. He did not give the impression of being terribly impressed by the fact that I held a weapon, and I strongly suspected he was right not to be.
