Across the Face of the World (8 page)

Then his breath caught in his throat as he recognised the girl behind the mask. The Falla was being played by Stella.

Everything happened too quickly for Leith to think. All his plans evaporated in the face of the dark feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Lanka in his Snaer mask reached out for the Falla in a cumber¬some embrace, then began to move woodenly across the circle towards her. She fluttered about in a series of quick movements, darting in a seemingly random pattern about the circle, always contriving to stay just out of the reach of the black figure. The fragile Falla brushed past the tall Snaer, who stooped and missed. Leith forgot all about acting in that moment. His head went white and black at the same time; he could neither think nor feel. In a crazed departure from the traditional story, he began to circle around the Snaer and Falla even before winter had made spring his captive. He went to grab Stella but missed as she spun to avoid him, a spin that put her in the path of the black hulk of winter. In a moment the tall frame of the boy from Brookside swallowed her up, and Leith went sprawling to the ground on the other side of the circle. The crowd cheered loudly. The capture of spring and the humili¬ation of summer could not have been more perfectly choreographed.

Leith got to his feet. The fall had brought him to his senses. It was the sheerest luck that had prevented disaster. Now he began to move slowly around behind the black figure and his captive. His character did not have the strength to wrest the Falla from the powerful Snaer by force, so he had to use guile. Usually this was accomplished by simple stealth, sneaking her away while the snow-figure pretended not to look. Leith began to think. How could he show up this Snaer? After his humiliating fall, mere victory would not do.

He made it to the edge of the circle directly behind the Snaer without being noticed. Leith was not sure whether it was good acting by the tall youth, or whether he genuinely did not see the masked Sumar, but the narrow eyes of the black mask had not made any attempt to follow his progress. Stella was expecting the traditional end to the Play, and began gently to free herself from the grip of the Snaer. Leith went towards her but, instead of making to steal her away, threw himself to the ground in front of the tall figure of winter.

The villagers gasped. The Sumar was face down in the dirt, arms extended, pleading for the release of the Falla.

The move obviously caught the Snaer by surprise, as moments passed with no response. Leith lay prostrate on the ground, hoping the youth in black would react the way he expected.

Slowly the Snaer raised a black-booted foot and placed it on Leith's neck, uttering a great cry of triumph. The humiliation of the Sumar was complete.

But it was the move Leith had been looking for. He shot an arm out, grabbed the Snaer's other foot and pulled it hard towards him. The huge figure tottered, then fell backwards, scattering a group of villagers and crashing into the side of the tent. The alert Falla had pushed against the tall frame as soon as she felt the boy overbal-ancing, and had sprung free before she, too, was carried to the ground. Leith gathered her tenderly in his right arm and moved over to where the Snaer lay struggling to rise. The Sumar placed a boot on the figure's neck, and gestured for the Falla to do the same. Spring and summer had combined in a totally unexpected way to defeat winter.

Leith cleared his throat, then shouted the ritual words: 'Winter is on the wane; a new year is at hand!'

For a moment there was silence, then the tent erupted as the inhabitants of the Vale cheered and clapped their approval.

Leith was in a daze as he and Stella, still at his side, found them¬selves surrounded by villagers. They even applauded Lanka as he got to his feet, ruefully rubbing bruised elbows.

Leith could hear the Haufuth's booming voice over the crowd: 'If I hadn't checked myself that all three were kept apart, I would have sworn they arranged the whole thing.'

'You took liberties with the story, boy,' a familiar voice rasped at his side. In spite of his blunt words, even Kurr seemed to approve. Everyone seemed to have something good to say.

Leith and Stella took off their masks and looked at each other. There was something of laughter in her gaze, as though she knew what he had tried to do and thought it foolish. They both knew that it was she who had saved him from embarrassment and earned the plaudits of the crowd. Even so, he had to fight for control of his voice.

'Thank you,' he said. It was the first time he had spoken to her since the day, months ago now, when he had invited her to walk by the lake with him. She nodded and turned away. The look she gave him could have meant anything.

The youth wandered slowly back to the corner where his mother and brother were sitting. He could see a third person there, hooded and cloaked, in earnest conversation with his mother.

The set of the shoulders should have told him, but it did not. He approached, expecting more of the compliments that had made his head spin, but instead his mother motioned for him to sit with them in the dark corner of the vast tent, silencing him with a gesture when he made to speak.

The cloaked figure turned towards him and let the hood fall away momentarily. For a moment Leith could only think of a birch bark carving, then he let out a strangled cry.

It was his father.

FALTHA AND BHRUDWO

'DON'T SAY A WORD!' Leith's mother hissed at him. 'Come now, we're going home. You'll hear all about it on the way.'

They drifted out of the marquee through a side flap, and found themselves in a light snow.

'I've left my coat inside!' Leith exclaimed.

'You can go and get it tomorrow,' his mother said. 'Right now, we need to get home.'

The hooded figure walked beside Leith, putting an arm around his shoulder. 'How have you been, son?'

'All right.' The answer meant nothing, he hadn't been all right, but what else could he say?

How could he tell his father about feelings he didn't understand himself?

They made their way slowly down the side of the hillock and found the path to the main road.

Mahnum ignored the path, taking them on a short cut through the fields.

'We can't use the roads. I cannot afford to be seen by anyone else on their way home,' he whispered. 'We must hurry.'

'Why can't you be seen? Why did we have to leave the tent?' Leith asked, puzzled.

'I don't want anyone knowing I've come back. I'll explain when we get home.' Laced with strain, his voice sounded wearier than Leith ever remembered hearing.

The snow filtered down a little more heavily now. The smell of it was in the air, a crisp smell, not the dampness associated with a heavy fall. The gelid moon sat low on the horizon ahead of them, its fullness occulted by passing cloud streamers. The dull reflected gleam on the snow proved enough light for the small group to find their way across the fields and over the low stone walls to the village.

Mahnum grunted as he climbed over the last fence.

'You're hurt!' Indrett cried.

'Mmmm. A few days ago. It'll be all right with a bit of rest. Not that there's much of that in the offing.' He rubbed his right leg behind the knee. 'This cold's no good for it. You don't realise how cold it gets here until you've been away.'

'Remind me to go away some time, then,' Indrett retorted.

'Almost there,' Hal said gently.

They sat around the low fire and looked at each other for a while. Leith studied the lined, careworn face of his father in the flick¬ering firelight, the face missing from his birch bark carving.

Eventually Hal broke the silence. 'Will you let me look at that leg?'

'Later,' came the reply.

'What happened to it?' Leith asked.

'I was being chased.' Mahnum let out an exhausted sigh. 'For the best part of a year I've been chased from place to place in Faltha and Bhrudwo. Sometimes I thought I'd shaken them off, but they always ended up back on my trail. A week ago they closed in on me as I crossed the borders of Firanes. I set my horse free on the bank of the Fonndelva, then swam it and threw my tunic in from the other side. I ran for the cover of trees but tripped in a rabbit burrow and ricked my knee.' He laughed shortly. 'It prob¬ably saved my life. They rode out of the forest just after I fell. I watched them argue for a minute or two, then they heeled their horses and headed off after my mount.'

'Who were these people chasing you?' Indrett asked her husband.

Mahnum sighed. 'I should tell you the whole story. The problem is, we don't really have the time. Look,' the tired man said earnestly, 'we're going to have to leave this place. It's not safe here any more. It'll probably never be safe around me from now on.'

'Leave?' A chorus of voices rang out.

'Yes. They won't have given up looking for me, and they're sure to find me if I stay here. In fact, they probably already know roughly where I live, but it will have taken them some time to run down my horse. I should be safe for a couple of days at least.'

'Leave Loulea?' his wife asked quietly.

'Maybe even Firanes. We might be able to live in a place like Windrise, or in one of the small hamlets in the far north, but I think we would be safest in a country like Plonya or maybe even Treika.'

Leith's head spun. Leave? His mind was still in the great tent at Falthwaite End, enjoying the accolades of the crowd, watching Stella make her way arrogantly from family to family with her mother Herza beaming proudly in the background. Leave Loulea? He couldn't leave. Not when people were finally noticing him.

'Traders are always going on journeys,' his father was saying. 'I've just decided to take my family with me this time. After all, I have been away the best part of two years.'

'They'll never understand such a hasty departure,' Indrett replied. 'The story will spread throughout the district. Surely if your pursuers follow you here they will find a hundred willing guides to direct them to us.'

'We've no time to say goodbye to the village. In fact, it would he dangerous if the villagers knew. It will be dangerous anyway lor anyone remaining here, but I can't do anything about that. Perhaps you can bid a few friends farewell early in the morning -those you know will keep their mouths closed for a while at least

while I wait on the North Road for you. Eventually the story will get out, but by then we'll be well on the road. We won't be found.'

Indrett cast an earnest look at her husband. 'But why flee at all? Why not tell the village what has happened? They'll set these strangers right! And if need be the men from Vapnatak would come and help. Then, when we've sent these people packing, we can settle into a quiet life.'

There was no mistaking the hope in her voice.

'You don't understand. I tell you, we must go! Not just for our own sakes, but because the village is in danger. You don't know these people. They are relentless, remorseless. They'll dispose of anyone in their way. There aren't enough men in Vapnatak to keep them at bay. I'd leave tonight if we weren't all so tired.'

'These men who follow you, how many are there?' Hal asked.

'Four,' Mahnum stated quietly.

'Only four!' Indrett looked puzzled. 'What could four do against a hundred?'

'Kill them very swiftly,' the tall man said grimly. 'Or kill them slowly, or any way they chose.

I've seen them do it. These four could take a city. They would go through this village and leave no one alive if they thought it would get them closer to me. It didn't take me a year to get here because I lost my way. No, I tried to lead them anywhere else but here. However, I couldn't shake them off and here I am. And I don't mind telling you, the sooner we leave this village the better I'll feel.'

'Who are these four pursuers?' Leith asked.

'They are Bhrudwan warriors, Maghdi Dasht. In our language, Heart of the Desert. We know them better by their Falthan name: Lords of Fear. A thousand years ago the Maghdi were in the vanguard of the Bhrudwan armies that conquered Faltha. They are a secret society, a sort of brotherhood dedicated to violence. Ordinary Bhrudwans are petrified of them.'

'Mahnum,' Indrett inquired worriedly, 'what makes you so important that four killers would track you across the northern world for a year? What do they want with you? If you've got some¬thing they want, why not give it to them?'

'Because what I have, what they want, is inside my head. It wouldn't do me any good to give it to them. They'd kill me anyway. It's what I know that makes me dangerous, and they want me dead before I can tell anyone else. You remember that I was sent on a mission to Bhrudwo by the Court of Firanes. It seems that some vague rumours had come to the attention of the King, rumours of the rise of Bhrudwan power. He wanted them investigated and so sent for me. In his dotage, he had forgotten I had given up trading and moved back north to start a new life with the jewel of his Court.' He smiled at Indrett, but she did not respond. 'You remember the day: the envoys would not listen to reason. You remember how I felt. It seemed like some half-baked story had been fabricated in order to send me to certain death, based on some petty jealousy at the Court, and the senile old fool of a king had signed the orders. Only it wasn't a half-baked story,' Mahnum said, lowering his voice. 'The rumours are true. Bhrudwo is preparing for war. That knowledge alone is enough to mark me for death in the minds of those who pursue me. But I know more, much more; more than my pursuers know themselves. And this knowledge must be delivered to the King. Though what he'll do with it.. .' The Trader shook his head.

'The old King is dead, Mahnum. He died a month ago. The Prince is not yet old enough to claim the throne, and Wisula has acceded as Regent. The news arrived at the village not three weeks since.'

Mahnum stared at his wife, aghast. 'Wisula? How could they?' He heaved a long, drawn-out sigh. 'Wisula! Oh Lord Most High! This changes everything.'

Hal stood up and approached his foster father. 'What did you find out in Bhrudwo? Whatever it is, you've suffered for it. Tell us. Let us share the burden.'