Across the Face of the World (71 page)

'Couldn't he come himself? Why send a youngster? What is wrong with this town?'

'Come this way, if you please,' said the small boy politely, and tugged at Mahnum's sleeve again.

Down the main street and away from the stares of the towns¬people they went, and through a maze of narrow side streets until they halted at a brown wooden door. The boy knocked and after a moment they were admitted by an old man.

'This is my aulfather,' whispered the little boy. 'You rescued his daughter from the Widuz.'

The leathery-faced old man led him into a small sitting room, and bade him take a seat. J

could do without this right now, Mahnum thought. What 1 need is a chance to think things through.

'You could probably do without this right now,' wheezed the old man. 'I imagine you would rather have some time to yourself. I hear that things did not go too well for you in your meeting with the elders.'

'You seem to know a surprising amount,' said Mahnum with raised eyebrows.

'I know you are thinking of behaving rashly,' the old man replied evenly. 'You rescued my daughter and gave me back my heart, and in exchange I will give you information that might save your life, and your mission.'

'What do you know of my mission?' The Firanese Trader was incredulous.

'It is vital that you escape this town before the Widuz lose patience and come for you. They have access to farmers and their families trapped in their fields, and may yet offer the elders a trade. There is a small gate in the wall, equidistant from each of the main gates and invisible to anyone from the outside, through which you might escape under cover of night. You'll have a greater chance than even Jethart's blade would give you.'

Mahnum looked gratefully into the man's clear eyes. 'How is your daughter?' he asked gently.

The old man sighed. 'She is well, and her family rejoice that she is back among them, but she will never be the same. She has seen too much. My daughter saw her friends fed to the deep hole, and she lived in terror of following them.'

'All the Treikans showed courage in our escape.'

'Not like our elders?' the old man said, again reading Mahnum's thoughts with uncanny accuracy. 'Inch Chanter was once a border village, full of hunters and warriors ready to try their strength against the feared Widuz. But now the border has been pushed westwards and our people have grown soft. All they want is to be left alone.'

'And so they shall, if you will show me the gate.'

'You don't want to spend another moment in this town,' the little boy's aulfather guessed correctly. 'However, if you try to escape before dark you will not spend many more moments on this earth. Be my guest for the evening meal.'

Mahnum laughed, his heart eased for the first time in many days. 'My son is alive, and soon I will be free to pursue him. Until then it will be an honour to sup with a man of such surprising wisdom.'

Under the cover of darkness, the old man led Mahnum to the outer wall, then along some distance to the left until he located the small wooden door.

'Goodbye, my friend,' the Trader said. 'I am in your debt.'

'1 hope that soon we will all be in yours,' came the whispered reply. 'Now draw that sword, in case the Widuz are patrolling the walls. They have not done so thus far, so you should be safe, but it is best to take no chances.' He struggled with the bolt, then slid it open with effort. 'This door hasn't been used for many years, not since the days when Inch Chanter was an outpost in disputed territory. I'm surprised the bolt gave way so easily. Perhaps it has been oiled recently.' And he smiled.

'Quick. On with you. This is not the time to dally! Once you are out on the erse, turn to the southeast and strike out cross¬country for a mile or so, until you come to a narrow lane.

Follow this to a farmhouse. My youngest son and his family live there. They will give you a bed for the night, should you wish it.'

'I have slept enough. My son is five days ahead of me, and I will not rest until I have found him.'

'So be it. Fuir af Himinn! Go with the blessing of the Most High!'

Through the door Mahnum squeezed, then out into the open and across the fields of the erse he ran, stooped low to avoid detec¬tion. He ran for perhaps ten minutes, then found the lane the old man had described. He did not stop, refusing even to slow down as he ran past the farmhouse with its welcoming lights.

* * *

Mahnum found the Westway a week or so later just north of Laverock, driving himself relentlessly through the pain and into the mind-numbing repetitiveness of simply placing one foot before the other. Whenever he crossed a ridge or found himself on a piece of higher ground, he turned and searched the horizon behind him for any sign of pursuit; as the days passed, the habit was dropped as it became obvious he was not being followed.

However, the pursuit was real, and it was gaining on him. In spite of the stirring words of the old warrior Jethart, who pleaded for a few days' head start for the hero of the Adunlok escape, the elders of Inch Chanter wasted no time telling the Widuz their quarry was no longer within their walls. Immediately the warriors abandoned their siege and set off over the fields in a loping, ground-eating trot.

'How did the Widuz know to head in the same direction as your rescuer?' Jethart asked his daughter angrily. 'They virtually trod in his footsteps.'

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. 'Our leaders must have told them. What way is that to treat one who has done so much for us? We have betrayed him.'

'I fear for him,' her father rasped, his throat tight with emotion, 'but I fear for ourselves more.

What future do we have if our leaders act so shamefully? How can we continue our tenuous hold on the ground of New Deer if we surrender the moral ground so easily? The elders have betrayed the man from Firanes, and they have betrayed me and all I have worked for. Only one thing gives me comfort. My blade is in the hands of one worthy of wielding it.'

The week's wait outside the walls of Inch Chanter had done nothing to ease the wrath of the Widuz. Some had suggested forcing their quarry out by executing the prisoners, or taking more captives from the surrounding farming community. The more level heads counselled prudence. While they would eventually deal with the hated foreigner who had killed their champion and emptied the cells of their sacred city, their eastern neighbours - hated descen¬dants of the First Men though they were - held great power through superior numbers.

Any action which antagonised their powerful neighbours would be regarded as treasonable by Tolmen, and would be punished accordingly. The strategy for survival remained the same: lull them to sleep, so their defences became lax and they grew vulnerable. Proof of the wisdom of this course was already visible, said Tala the brother of Talon: the rulers of the walled city of the plain were willing to surrender the fugitive to them -indeed, had sought them out, begging their favour and wishing to know how best they could assist them. In the old days, he reminded them, they would have faced fierce warriors well before they drew close to the walls.

When the fifth day passed and the fugitive still remained harboured in the town, even the moderates among the Widuz party sought to bring the matter to a swift conclusion. On the sixth morning, however, came the news that their quarry had effected an escape some time during the night, and had made off in the direction of Laverock. This news fuelled an already acri¬monious discussion, with Tala leading the faction who still sought revenge. For a time, it appeared they would come to blows, a fight being averted only when the leader of the moderates announced he was returning home. 'For,' he said, 'we must be in Adunlok for the selection of our new priest: those who are absent will be under a curse. Besides, we lost more than half our number in the assault by the treacherous Tree-men. We can ill afford further losses.'

Talon's brother laughed at him and his four followers as they set out for Clovenhill, a dark smudge on the western horizon. 'There go the shattered shards of the weak, while the strong fashion themselves a cup large enough to contain their revenge. Look, my brothers! Decide in your hearts not to become as he is. Choose instead to show him the head of this foreigner! Let nothing stand in your way! Let all of single mind follow me!'

The small band kept away from the main roads, travelling cross¬country by day and night, held to their hard path by the iron will of their leader. Through Laverock they sliced, turning the town inside-out but obtaining no news of their foe. Their path then took them across the Remparers by a little-known track, one used by the Widuz in days of old long before the First Men dispossessed them, and which rejoined the Westway a few miles south of Inverell.

'My ancestors lived in this valley,' Tala snarled. 'Look at the fields! More food here than in the whole of Widuz. Brothers, this will be ours - in our lifetime!'

As the party drew nearer to their prey they spread out, leaving two only to travel along the Westway itself. The others took to the open fields again as they crossed Deuverre, and the rumours of their passing struck fear into the locals. Deuverre had not seen a Widuz raiding party for many centuries, and did not like the look of this one. The raiders helped themselves to all the food they wanted, and destroyed much of what they did not eat, but still their anger was not assuaged.

The Trader crossed into Deuverre without incident, puzzled that he had not found his son, nor indeed any sign of him. Surely he would have made for Instruere? Unless his companion had other ideas. I wish I knew who he was! But no amount of worrying was going to get him to Instruere a moment sooner, so he dismissed the thoughts and continued his journey.

The Company were halfway across the plain, within two days of Instruere if Kurr's reckoning was correct, when they discovered a sheltered pool between two low, wooded hills. Here they took their rest, and the waters of a mineral spring eased their aches.

'Have you made further headway with the Bhrudwan?' Kurr asked Hal as the others rested their feet in the cool waters. 'Is he likely to be cooperative?'

'It is too early to say,' the cripple replied carefully. 'I have learned his name - Achtal - and think that we should use it when talking to him. He understands a smattering of the common tongue and, while he says little, he has let slip that he was born in the province of Birinjh, nearer Faltha than most other Bhrudwan lands, and that he was in the regular army for five years before being compelled to join the Maghdi Dasht. It seems to me that we have a chance of winning his confidence. I want to allow him to walk without restraint.'

'Of course not,' came the swift reply. 'Perhaps you want also to give him a sword, and for us to bare our necks before it? What foolishness is this?'

'The foolishness of trust,' Hal replied evenly. 'No other wisdom, however appealing, holds the key to this man's heart.'

'Are you quite sure you come from Firanes, and not a browner land?' Kurr was tired, and in that state his thoughts became words more easily. 'Are you one of us?'

Hal took no offence. 'I am as much a Firanese as you,' he said, looking directly into the rheumy eyes of the old farmer. Something passed between them then, an acknowledgement that secrets were known.

And so it was that Mahnum found them, Hal and Kurr in earnest discussion, the others -

including the one he knew and loved so well - bathing in the pool.

'Is there room for me?' he asked quietly.

Indrett's head snapped round in shock, then a smile spread across her features, replaced by a frown as she saw that her husband was alone.

'No, dear one,' he said, 'I have not found him. But he is alive, of that I am sure. He passed through Widuz and escaped their snares, heading in this direction. I thought I would have found him before now, but no doubt he is but a day or two ahead of us - perhaps already safe in Instruere, the first of us to arrive there.' He broke off for a moment as his wife embraced him.

'And you,' he continued, 'are you well? You look - you look ...' Words failed him temporarily, and the love that passed between them was a tangible thing that the rest of the Company could see.

While the couple continued to talk, Kurr climbed the leftmost of the small hills, looking for any sign of the great city in the distance. His return was swift, and he was out of breath as he spoke to the Company.

'Behind us - a group scouring the countryside - could be trouble!' he puffed.

'How many?' Mahnum asked.

'Maybe a dozen, maybe more.'

'How close?'

'A few miles away, but they come quickly.'

'How far have we to go, by your reckoning?'

'The Aleinus is visible on the horizon - two days. A day and a half if we hurry.'

'Then we'd better hurry,' Mahnum said urgently. 'This is what I feared: the Widuz have not given up the chase.' As they gath¬ered their belongings and set their feet to the Westway once again, he told them the story of what had taken place since he left them on the slopes of the volcano. The telling took him the best part of an hour.

'Can we not leave the Westway and simply let them pass?' Perdu asked.

'They were spread across the plain,' Kurr insisted.

'Besides, if Leith is ahead, he might fall into their hands,' Indrett said quietly.

'Then let us turn and fight them!' Farr cried. 'We have defeated the Bhrudwan warriors, more fierce by far than these primitive losian. So why should we flee before them?'

'Count them!' Kurr growled. 'There are too many. Our captive might escape in the confusion, or perhaps be killed. We lost a good man when fighting four Bhrudwans. How many might we lose if we face these Widuz? We will do nothing to jeopardise our quest. We must continue to Instruere. There we will find haven.'

A while later their thoughts turned to food and shelter. 'We cannot stop,' Mahnum insisted.

'They must know they are close to me, and may travel at night as well as by day. We will eat on foot'

And how will we sleep?' Perdu asked.

'On foot.'

After what seemed like forever, the sun rose, the gate opened and Leith and Phemanderac followed other travellers in through Instruere's Inna Gate. As they passed under the intricately fashioned stone archway, Leith experienced a strange sense of fear, an unset¬tling, nagging feeling that refused to let him go throughout the day. If Phemanderac felt it, he did not say.