Across the Face of the World (12 page)

Hal spoke: 'Father warned me that he was told in Andratan of Bhrudwan spies at every Court in Faltha. His interrogator gloated that every king in the land would soon be in the palm of his hand. We must choose our confidants with care.'

The old farmer grunted his agreement. 'So no help will come from the King. But what about the villagers? How long would it take to raise an army from Vapnatak and the surrounding districts?'

The Haufuth laughed in his throat. 'I'll tell you how long. Never! Mahnum and Indrett are somebody else's problem, not theirs. And as for the Bhrudwan threat - well, they simply would not believe it. I'm not sure I believe it! We teach our villagers that all the "Destroyer"

stories are fables. Is Bhrudwo a serious threat? None of the village Haufuths will think so. I wouldn't have thought so either, but how else do I explain a man being pursued across the face of the world?'

'Believe me when I say that Bhrudwo is no fable,' Kurr stated gravely.

The Haufuth shook his head sadly. 'I don't know what to believe any more,' he concluded.

The old farmer ground his teeth in frustration. 'For the love of the Most High! You came to me with the story, and now you don't believe it? It really doesn't matter what you think; someone has carried away two people from your village. What are you going to do about it?

And there is talk of an invasion. We should tell someone about it. So we still have things to do, no matter what we believe. We still have decisions to make.'

'Like, exactly what we are supposed to do now,' said the Haufuth.

Merin came into the room and closed the shutters against the oncoming twilight. She smiled fondly at her husband, lit the lamps and then went out.

'One moment!' the Haufuth stood and called after her. 'Do we have any cheese? Cheese helps me think.'

'None in the house,' came the reply. 'I'll send someone over to Herza's for it.'

The big man resumed his seat, grinning. 'Got to think ahead!' he explained, shrugging his shoulders.

Kurr stood to speak. By now there was no doubt: his deep-set grey eyes burned with a fire which none of those present had noticed in their previous dealings with the farmer. The old man had undergone some sort of transformation. No longer a grumpy landsman, he was now a sharp-witted adviser.

'Well, it seems obvious to me that we are faced with a choice between doing two impossible things.' He stretched forth a bony hand and counted them off as he spoke. 'On the one hand we have to convince the kings of northern and southern Faltha, sixteen sovereign states in all, to take seriously a threat from the Destroyer. Who are we, northern provincials, that they would consent to hear us, let alone believe us? We have not a shred of proof to strengthen our hand.

Yet I guess that we have less than twelve months to do it.

'On the other hand Mahnum and his wife have been adbucted by a band of killers whose only conceivable objective is to ascer¬tain what they know, then kill them and return to Bhrudwo without being apprehended. The Trader and his wife face certain death unless they are rescued.

'So here is our cruel dilemma! Do we rescue our friends or warn the kings of Faltha? We need to do both. We have the power to do neither. Yet we must attempt something or wait here and let our doom, Faltha's doom, roll towards us, eventually to overwhelm us.'

A deep silence followed his words.

'I am sure we are agreed that something must be attempted?' he prompted eventually.

The other three nodded slowly in answer.

'So which one to attempt?' asked the farmer. 'How to choose?'

'If we chose to warn the kings,' the Haufuth said, thinking care¬fully, 'how would we do it?

Travel around the sixteen kingdoms?'

'That would take a lifetime,' Kurr responded. 'But perhaps there is a better way. Ever since the Bhrudwan invasion a thousand years ago, each of the sixteen kings has posted an ambassador to Instruere, the great City of Faltha. The Haufuth knows what I'm talking about. Either of you boys heard of it?' He turned to the brothers.

Hal nodded his head slowly.

'Instruere?' Leith said. 'No .. .'

'You would have, if you had attended to your lessons,' the Haufuth growled at him. 'It was the capital of the world even before the Bhrudwans invaded a thousand years ago. The Destroyer was said to have made his palace there. I told you all about it.'

Leith frowned in concentration. He liked learning; he had shown a flair for it when he was younger, enough to be teased for it, anyway. But these days he never seemed able to focus on his lessons.

'Those sixteen ambassadors make up the Council of Faltha,' Kurr continued impatiently. 'They have the authority to make decisions on behalf of their kings. The reality is that the Council of Faltha governs Instruere, and whoever governs Instruere governs the world. They have more power in Faltha than any of the kings. All we need to do is to go and see them.'

'Hundreds of leagues or more in the middle of winter? We'd never make it.' The fat headman shook his head.

'Over a thousand leagues, actually. But what else can we do? Invite them to come here?'

There was a short silence. Leith sensed that Kurr's patience might not last much longer.

'How to choose?' said the Haufuth nervously, his smallish eyes flicking from one person to another, never resting on anyone. 'In my view, the choice we have is between swift death and slow death. Should we pursue these foul rogues and fall into their hands, our lives will be ended quickly. I'm not really in favour of that outcome. All very well for the heroes of story and legend. If any of you are Conal Greatheart in disguise, or even one of his band, time to speak up. No? Well, taking on the Bhrudwan warriors is not realistic. On the other hand, if we fail to persuade this Council of Faltha that Bhrudwo threatens us all, they won't kill us, but death is no less certain - for many others, if not for us. The Falthans I know could not long resist the likes of those who have taken Mahnum captive. Even if the waves of war do not wash up this far, our crops and our sons will be required of us. Certainly every¬thing we treasure will wither and die.

'Now I, for one, favour the enterprise which provides the greater chance of success. The time it will take us to reach Instruere and summon the council may allow further evidence to surface of Bhrudwo's intentions. If the knowledge of these intentions dies with us in some lonely hollow, nothing will remain to stop the Destroyer catching Faltha off guard for a second time.

'And even more important than the threat of invasion itself is the knowledge that some of the kings of the Sixteen Kingdoms are traitors to Faltha. If we can get that information to the council, they may be able to act to depose the Bhrudwan pawns, so that we can get a united army together to face our ancient enemy.

'I'm sorry, boys,' he said, licking his lips nervously, turning to Leith and his brother, 'but when I put two people against thou¬sands, even though they are two people I love, I can make only one choice. I believe that by now your mother and father truly are dead.' The Haufuth spread his hands wide. 'I'm sorry! I choose the sensible path. I choose to try to save Faltha.'

It was out, it had been said. They were dead. Leith put his head in his hands.

The old farmer stood and strode over to the door, hands behind his back. 'Now is the time to give up dreams of heroic destiny. Politics, not heroics, will save Faltha from the murderous armies. Yes, we should travel to Instruere and tell our story. But not to the council; not yet.

We will need to find a sponsor, someone with influence on the council, someone to plead our cause and convince Faltha to investigate our claims. Someone not corrupted by Bhrudwo's taint. For all we know, there may be traitors even on the council! Without a sponsor we will not get past the Iron Door of the Outer Chamber.'

He took a step forward, and lowered his voice. 'I know such a sponsor.'

'Someone with power and influence in Instruere?' The Haufuth's voice was laced with disbelief. 'Who?'

'I'll explain in a moment,' the old farmer rasped, clearly annoyed at the interruption to his argument. 'As for the fate of Mahnum and Indrett, I agree with the Haufuth. They are dead.

Why should the Bhrudwans keep them alive, since it is their knowledge that is dangerous?

My reasoning says: forget them! I do not wish to die on a foolish expedition without direction or hope. I appreciate how this must make you feel,' he said to the boys, trying to soften his voice but not succeeding. 'He was a good man, and she was kind, for a southerner. But we cannot allow sentiment to inter¬fere with sense.'

'Then it is settled!' boomed the Haufuth. 'As soon as we can gather—'

The scraping of a chair interrupted the big man. Hal struggled to his feet. He faced the older men, leaning on the arm of a chair, his face like stone. The Haufuth lapsed into silence.

'Nothing has been settled.' Hal spoke softly. '1 have listened carefully to you both, without interrupting. Now be quiet and listen to me.' He held them with adamant eyes. 'There are others here who have not yet had their say. It is their turn. Then we will speak of decisions.'

The Haufuth's face burned. What the youth said was true; Kurr and he had dominated the discussion, forgetting about the boys. As the host, he was keenly aware of his lack of manners.

The old farmer, however, would have none of it. Striding back from the door, he stood facing Hal, though a head higher, staring down into the cripple's clear brown eyes, his own hard eyes holding dark fury. 'What could you possibly add to the discussion?' he rasped. Are you going to bring your decades of experience to bear on the problem? Does your wide travelling in the North Woods give you insight into how the Council of Faltha will treat our news? Or perhaps some of the foxes and squirrels you talk to have told you which way the Bhrudwan warriors went?' He raised his stick, then jabbed Hal in the stomach with it. 'Face the facts! Your elders have decided what to do. Now sit down, cripple, before I sit you down.'

'Whether I sit or stand, you will listen to logic,' Hal shot right back. The old farmer's eyes opened wide; he had obviously not expected defiance. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hal beat him to it: 'Logic' His voice stayed firm, his words clipped. 'You speak of our dilemma, a choice between two courses of action. This is not the only way to view the problem. Rather, I believe we have only one course of action with two objectives, and by pursuing this course both of these objectives will be met.'

Leith could hear the anger in his brother's voice. Hal was slow to anger, but when roused he was immovable. Leith had seen it with villagers, with his parents, with himself. Hal did not get angry with the person, exactly; it was as though he took offence at the idea he disagreed with, and sought to bring it down. Leith could truly say he had never won an argument with his brother. And if Kurr thought to rile Hal by name-calling, he'd better think of something more insulting than calling him a cripple. His brother had experienced a lifetime of abuse, both crude and subtle, and had learned how to cope.

'Really?' Kurr replied sarcastically. 'And perhaps the great scholar would share the results of his logic?'

The Haufuth groaned, obviously aware that he should interfere, but just as obviously incapable of it.

Hal would not be deterred. 'Listen. We need to rescue Mahnum and Indrett, and we need to warn the Council of Faltha of the coming Bhrudwan attack. Whether or not we can achieve them both, those are our objectives. Do you agree?' he asked, turning to the Haufuth, who nodded.

'The one thing we lack in achieving our second objective is proof,' Hal said quietly. 'Without evidence, our story is just a fairy¬tale. We need evidence. Is that correct?'

Again, the Haufuth's head nodded in agreement. Kurr remained perfectly still.

'Think, now: would a captured enemy soldier, a man from Bhrudwo who has been caught well inside Falthan territory, consti¬tute such evidence? If he could be persuaded to talk, that is?'

The head nodded again, then the Haufuth spoke cautiously: 'If I understand what you are getting at. .. you want us to go after your parents and, in the act of freeing them, capture one of the warriors and present him to the Falthan council?'

'That's right,' said Hal evenly.

They thought about it for a moment. 'Well,' said the Haufuth, 'we might as well add another impossibility to the list. Not that I don't see the sense of what you say. We need evidence, and evidence is fleeing from us at this very moment. But I would have thought it difficult enough to rescue your parents, let alone capture one of the killers. These people are inhuman! What they did at the Favonian village - I don't like the sound of that.'

Hal looked him straight in the eye. 'Neither do I. But I can think of no riskless method of doing what we need to do. I can think of no others to take our place. And I can think of no way to avoid our responsibility, both to Faltha and to two people from this village, without dying an inner death long before the Bhrudwan army gets here.'

Even Kurr looked thoughtful now, though he had not backed away one inch.

'And there is one other matter.' Hal spoke carefully, so there would be no mistaking his meaning. 'There is still one here who has not been heard, and his heart may speak more clearly than our most carefully considered counsels. If he wishes to abandon his father and his mother, so be it. But can you take a heart that longs for the love of a father and kill it, crushing it by cold words of reason, ending hope and sowing seeds of guilt and betrayal?

Which of you would give up your family to a cruel fate without suffering doubt - at the least

— for the rest of your life? Would you not at least make an attempt to rescue them, vain though that attempt may be? If you do not value hearts like this one, then I tell you truly that it does not matter whether Faltha or Bhrudwo rules, for we have fallen into corruption. Listen to the heart of a son. Let it decide our course.'

The attention shifted to Leith. He felt every eye on him, and he wished he had some eloquent words to deliver. Once or twice he ventured to speak, but nothing emerged from his dry mouth.