Empire of the Saviours (Chronicles of/Cosmic Warlord 1) (43 page)

CHAPTER 10:

For and from the sin of being

‘A
h, you’re awake, dear one. You slept a good number of hours. How do you feel?’

‘I am well, friend Anupal, thank you,’ Freda replied, shading her eyes against the bright sky. ‘Where are we?’

‘Heading south. Would you be able to run, do you think? We would make better time that way. The world never stops or waits for anyone, you see, not even me. If we do not get to where we need to be on time, it might not even be there any more, and we might never find it, for places are people as well as rocks, trees and buildings. Places are moments in time. Do you understand what I mean, dear one?’

She stuck her tongue out in concentration. ‘So if I went back to the mine now, it wouldn’t be the same place?’

‘Precisely.’ He smiled approvingly. ‘Some of the same rocks would still be there, but others wouldn’t. Some of the same people would be there, but some wouldn’t and there’d probably be new ones. Certainly it wouldn’t be an entirely different place, but it would be different enough in very important ways.’

She could see that. Without Norfred there, the mine would never be the same place for her. ‘So a place can only ever be visited once? There’s no going back to it … in time? That’s strange. And also very sad, Anupal.’

Her observation slightly caught him out. He’d never thought of it like that before. Yes, it was sad really. The wonderful places he’d known but would never see again. They could not be recovered. Such a shame that the mortals of this world had such short lives, like leaves on a tree waiting to fall. He forced the corners of his mouth up. ‘But let us not be melancholic or downhearted, dear one, for we are in a good place now. We have each other, yes?’

‘Yes, Anupal.’ She nodded, mimicking his smile, although it made her cheeks grind. ‘I have a question, though. If we do not know if a place will be there when we get there, how do we know where we’re going in the first place?’

‘Ah! And here is the nature of the will. Your will must decide what it wants or needs and then create that place by travelling there on time. With most places, there isn’t much need to rush, but with others you are tested to your limits. And some places are impossible to find, just fantasy.’

‘I see. What is it your will wants or needs then, Anupal?’

‘Why, I have been told there are people in the south who might also become my friends if I arrive there in time to do things for them. Do you remember I said I try to do good things to make good friends? That is enough for me. What is it you want or need, dear one?’

Freda hesitated. He’d told her what he wanted, so it only seemed right she told him the same. And he was her friend. ‘Well, I need to find someone called Jan, who either went east or south, although I don’t know what east is. And I need to … to …’

‘Is that a stutter you have? Be not afraid to tell me, dear one,’ the Peculiar said and touched her injured hand.

His touch sent a sparkling thrill through her. Other than Torpeth, he was the only person ever to touch her in a way that wasn’t hurtful. He didn’t feel as warm and firm as Torpeth – in fact, his light fingers felt like a spider that had scuttled over her once – but it excited her nevertheless. In a rush, she said, ‘I need to find three lost temples so that I can then find Haven.’

His head jerked up and back as if she’d punched him. She was suddenly worried she’d upset him, but then his lips took on their habitual smile. ‘Do you indeed, dear one? Curious places to need to visit, and they may well test us to our limits, but I will help you find them if you help me make these new friends and promise to go with me to the Great Temple one day.’

‘What is the Great Temple? Is it one of the lost temples?’

‘Nothing quite so interesting, I’m afraid. It sounds far grander than it really is. It’s just my home, that’s all. I need to go there to rest sometimes, but I could not bear to be parted from you, my friend.’

‘I will go there if it makes you happy, Anupal.’

‘That’s good. We are agreed and now of one mind and will. We are one, Freda.’

‘We are one,’ she echoed. It sounded nice, if a little strange.

‘Then let us run together, Freda! I will race you. First to the horizon, that line in the distance.’

Exhilarated by the idea, she dived off the wagon and into the ground. The road here was paved, so there weren’t too many tree roots in the ground to slow her down. She came back up and coursed forward, her flesh intermingling and speeding through the road’s substance.

‘Hey, not fair!’ the Peculiar yelled as he leapt to set the horse free, giving it a mental command to follow on behind them. Then he lengthened his perfect limbs and began to sprint after her. He skimmed over the ground, only lightly touching it every ten metres or so. He quickly overtook her and then created a cape for himself so that he could soar and swoop at even greater speeds.

Behind him, Freda came on like an earthquake, deliberately shaking his flighted stride whenever he was forced to touch down. The Peculiar laughed like a delighted child, though he hardly had the breath for it. He inevitably slowed and Freda managed to draw level with him.

What an amazing creature she was. Part of the reason the Peculiar had suggested they run was so that he could test her. The fact she could keep up was amazing in itself, but over a longer distance, with her relentless and stone-based stamina, she might even be able to overhaul him, for he would eventually tire. No wonder the elseworlders wanted her for themselves.

Yet that fool Goza had simply intended to have her for a snack. Did that mean the elseworlders weren’t actually aware of her potential? That would mean they were also likely to be unaware of her quest for the lost temples, the old gods and Haven. All the better for him then. Could it be that this simple golem would finally deliver him the Geas where all else had failed? Incredible if it were so, but tellingly ironic. Where his scheming and manipulation were too often frustrated, faith and innocence found a way. And he had never met one as innocent as her. He found that she charmed him as much as his nature despised her. In some ways it would be a shame to reach that moment when all her illusions were shattered and she was thereby destroyed. But it was the way of things, the essence of his being and the nature of his will. As it had always been, so it would always be, and getting there still gave him pleasure.

Thomas guided their wagon out of the trees and onto a route that passed through a cluster of small dimly lit buildings just as it was getting dark. ‘Welcome to Linder’s Drop! May not be much to look at, but there are a few outlying farms too and a meeting house yonder. My forge is just beyond the stream there.’

‘It’s quiet,’ Jillan said, looking around owlishly.

‘There are people watching us though,’ Ash said, rubbing the back of his neck as if it prickled.

‘The people here are shy and gentle,’ Thomas said softly. ‘They are rightly suspicious of strangers. Some of the other forest communities are far more belligerent than we are. But the people will all come to say hello in the morning, you’ll see, once Bion has had a chance to size you up and has given the all-clear.’

‘Bion is your wizard, yes?’ Aspin nodded. ‘Is he your holy man?’

Thomas chewed on his answer for a moment or two. ‘In a manner of speaking. People will ask him to explain things from time to time, and he’ll choose either to answer them or not. It’s not always clear if he’s giving an answer or avoiding it, though. Once I asked him something quite simple and he remained silent. I thought he was refusing to answer and left him sitting on his rock. But he found me the next day and spoke the answer, explaining that he’d been so busy working it out that he hadn’t even noticed me leave. He says strange things quite a lot that I’m sure are responses to things he’s been asked years before. But is he holy? We don’t worship him and he doesn’t lead us in worship, if that’s what you mean. Each of us chooses our own relationship with the Geas, making observances to the gods as we also choose.’

‘Does he have matted hair, walk around naked and eat pine nuts all the time?’ Aspin asked.

‘Er … no. He is hunched, well dressed, constantly smokes a pipe and eats more than any ten men put together without ever getting any bigger. Suffice to say, he doesn’t get invited to dinner by anyone any more.’

‘Sounds as bad as my wolf friend, although the wolf doesn’t usually wait to be invited. When I’m having dinner, he tends to be of the opinion that I’ve stolen the food from the forest, and since the forest belongs to him I’ve stolen it from him. He therefore has no qualms about taking it back if he chooses.’

‘Then I pray Bion and the wolf do not meet, lest the wolf give the wizard ideas.’

They all laughed, although Jillan had long since tired of the back and forth between Thomas and Ash. He needed to get to Hyvan’s Cross to free his parents. Everything else was an unwelcome distraction at best and a dangerous loss of time at worst. He understood Aspin’s argument that coming to Linder’s Drop might be a useful means to an end, but he was finding it hard to have faith in anyone or anything any more.

Well, it was your parents who told you to find this Thomas Ironshoe in the first place, remember?
the taint observed.

‘Do
you
trust him then?’ Jillan asked silently.

Me? Ha! I don’t trust anyone, do I? I hardly trust myself sometimes
.

‘Precisely.’

That would mean your parents were wrong then, wouldn’t it?

‘I suppose,’ Jillan conceded.

Parents make mistakes all the time, I imagine. Thomas said he hadn’t seen them in how long? Perhaps he’s changed in that time
.

‘Changed how?’

How do I know?
You’ve
changed in just the short time you’ve been away from Godsend, haven’t you? People change. It doesn’t mean it’s impossible to have faith in anyone or anything though
.

‘I haven’t changed.’

Of course you have
.

‘How?’

You’ve become far more annoying and you ask far more stupid questions than before
.

‘Not true. Minister Praxis said I always asked too many ignorant questions too.’

Yes, and it was your questions that started all this in the first place. Have you learned nothing by asking them? Why can’t you just stay quiet and behave yourself like everyone else? Why can’t you just do as everyone tells you, eh?

‘Because then nothing would ever change. The bad things would last forever.’

Precisely. Nothing would ever change, and where would we be then, eh? It’s important you remember that and have faith in it from hereon in
.

‘What do you mean? Taint, answer me! Why is it important I remember that? Taint, please. Is it to do with Thomas? Is it to do with freeing my parents?’

But there was only silence and now they were pulling up to a long two-storey wood-beamed building with lime-washed plaster between the pillars and cross-beams. Lanterns shone from behind half-closed shutters and a coal fire glowed invitingly deep within. There was the tantalising smell of freshly baked bread and the air was rich with stewed meat and vegetables. Adjoining the main house was a large shed containing a brute of an anvil and a full range of buckets, pincers, hammers, some surely taller than a man, and other tools.

‘This is your home?’ Aspin asked in awe.

‘Giants must have built it,’ Ash whispered.

Thomas smiled with some pride. ‘Honest hard work – and the help of my neighbours and the wizard, of course. But I need such a place to contain my good wife and our three girls, for verily they are forces of nature, as you will soon see for yourselves. What say you, Jillan? Was it worth the visit?’

Jillan was spared the need to answer as a gale of shrieks and excitement assailed them.

‘Papa! Papa!’

‘Papa is home!’

‘And he has brought visitors, Mama!’

‘Did you bring us ribbons, Papa?’ called the youngest of the voices. ‘You promised me a yellow one!’

Thomas looked at his companions ruefully. ‘Some say I spoil them, but I am powerless before them.’ Then he jumped down from the wagon and spread his arms wide as three girls burst from the house and threw themselves at him all at once. Large as Thomas was, they almost bowled him over. Fluttering eyes looked over their father’s shoulder and around the side of him at Jillan, Aspin and Ash.

‘Look at that one, Betha! He’s your age.’

‘No, Ausa, he’s older. Too old for me. Yuck!’

‘Not that one. That one!’

‘Oo, yes!’

Only the youngest noticed her father’s loss of hair.

‘Don’t worry, it’ll grow back once Bion’s found a magic cowpat large enough to cover my head,’ he said, and she giggled. ‘Now, Stara, may I introduce you to my good friend Jillan. Stara, Jillan saved my life.’

Stara stared and stared. Then she became bashful and hid behind her father, until he dragged her back out and forced her to face Jillan. She suddenly thrust her hand out and an embarrassed Jillan had to clamber down and shake it. Stara then wouldn’t let his hand go and pulled him after her and up the several stairs into the house.

‘Mama!’ Stara called. ‘This is Jillan and he saved Papa’s life!’

‘Then he shall have pride of place at the table and will be toasted by us all. Stara, lay extra places. Maybe Jillan will help.’

Wooden bowls and spoons were thrust into Jillan’s hands as Stara directed him towards a large dining table. He’d hardly managed a nod to the homely looking woman in the kitchen area. She wore a startlingly white dress, like all her daughters.
How on earth did they manage to keep them clean?
He looked down at his soiled and torn clothes guiltily. His mother would have told him off at length for coming home like this.

‘Here, slow-snail, I’ll do it,’ Stara said energetically and whipped the bowls back out of his hands.

He dropped several spoons.

‘Clumsy claws!’ she giggled and swept them up before he could bend down.

Ash and Aspin entered, each with one of Thomas’s daughters on his arm. Ash was with Ausa, a tall china-skinned brunette, while Aspin escorted Betha, a dimpled auburn. Stara was suddenly before Jillan again with twinkling eyes and rosy cheeks. ‘Come sit next to me,’ she breathed, her breath smelling of cinnamon, which was also the colour of her hair. She put her hands to his shoulders and pushed him round the table to the top chair. Thomas’s other daughters peeled away to help their mother bring through piled trenchers of food, while Thomas poured beakers of ale from a keg and waved Aspin and Ash over to seats at the table.