Empire of the Saviours (Chronicles of/Cosmic Warlord 1) (54 page)

‘Freda, could you hear anything of what Wayfar was saying?’ Jillan asked in the dark, more so that he would have a voice to hold on to, rather than because he had any real interest in the contents of the answer.

The rock woman slowed in her progress through the rock. ‘It wasn’t very nice to listen to, so I tried to shut my ears to it. There were a lot of bad words. Anger … and sadness. Some of it didn’t make sense, as if his mind was broken like his body. Broken words. Then he begged for people to listen to him and answer him – anybody, anyone. So then I felt bad about not listening.’

Jillan knew something of how the god felt, or thought he did, crouched here in the dark, not knowing up from down. He couldn’t see his hands. He was disembodied and lost. Actually, perhaps he could feel his hands, but hadn’t one of the woodmen in Godsend lost a leg when it got trapped under a tree and sworn for the rest of his life that he could still feel it?

‘So you did listen, then?’ Jillan pressed.

‘Yes, friend Jillan. It was like he wanted me to do something for him, but he didn’t say what. Help him, I suppose. But I don’t know how. Friend Jillan, we are under the city now. How should we find your parents? I sense many, many people.’

‘I guess that they are keeping them in the punishment chambers, which are usually the lowest place in every town or city. Can you tell where they are?’

‘Over here,’ she chewed.

Where the hell are we?
asked a faint voice.
You haven’t got yourself killed and buried already, have you?

Taint!
Jillan shouted in mental relief.

Honestly, boy, you need to pay more attention. I’ve been shouting at you for ages
.

Sorry. I couldn’t hear you. Where did you go?

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, what with Miserath’s presence reducing me to a whisper and then Wayfar making such a din. He can be such a baby sometimes. Thank goodness he can’t get down here into the rock with us. But this is the Saint’s city, so you may lose me again soon. You didn’t make any agreement with him, did you?

With who? The Saint?

No, you idiot. With Miserath
.

I … had to. There was no other choice
.

What? There’s always a choice. Surely you’ve been through enough to know that by now. Having freedom to choose is the whole point. Jillan, what did you agree to?

Er … as part of the agreement, I can’t tell anyone
.

What! Oh, he’s cunning. Look, telling me is just like talking to yourself. I’m in your head after all
.

I can’t. It’s to help my parents
.

There was a sigh.
No agreement with the Great Deceiver can turn out well. I leave you alone for five minutes and off you go dooming the entire world, your parents included
.

Don’t say that!
Jillan trembled.

What else do you want me to say, Jillan? That it’ll all be all right? That you’ll rescue your parents, you’ll save Godsend and you’ll all live happily ever after? I wish I could, I wish I could
.

There has to be a way!

Does there really?
the taint replied quietly.

Jedadiah had never liked small spaces. His body always felt squeezed and he couldn’t breathe. It was even worse here because he was chained as well. They’d put manacles on him after he’d begun to panic as they put him in the cell and he’d lashed out and broken the heads of two of the guards. In the end it had taken six of them to wrestle him to the ground and get him in here. He’d cried and pleaded with them, but they’d ignored him. Even when they’d gone, he’d continued to beg until his voice had given out. He’d strained against the manacles for hours, all but cutting his wrists open, until his strength had also failed him.

He wanted to give up. He wanted to die. But there was some reason why that wasn’t allowed. What was it? He’d been chosen somehow, and had promised never to give up. Yes, she’d chosen him. He saw her face before him and his breathing eased for a few blessed moments. His beloved Maria. And their blessed son, Jillan, whose eyes sparkled with such mischief but also such life, whose brow only creased in laughter with the joy he shared with everyone, whose smile was all the brighter for the unhappiness he showed when he saw misery around him, who never faltered when his will to help others caused him pain; Jillan, who made Jedadiah feel so humble, privileged and undeserving. Surely it was only what every parent felt for their child, but surely no child made their parent feel it more than Jillan. He was just a normal boy really, but was everything to Jedadiah, absolutely everything. He saw Jillan before him now and felt strength return to his heart and mind.

‘You shouldn’t be here.’

‘I came to rescue you, Father.’

Jedadiah blinked. ‘Jillan? How …? You should be somewhere safe!’

Quite right. You should listen to your father
.

‘Nowhere’s safe that I can tell, Father.’ He pulled out his blade, lighting up the cell and causing Freda to step back into the shadows.

‘That’s sun-metal, Jillan!’

‘Samnir’s sword.’ He smiled, effortlessly cutting away the manacles from his father’s ankles. ‘Freda, I can’t reach the wrists. Can you do it?’

The rock woman slowly came forward and reluctantly took the sword, holding it at arm’s length from her. She kept her eyes turned away, but managed to free Jedadiah without cutting him. The big man fell to the floor and groaned. Jillan looked down in shock, never having seen his father on his knees like this. He had always been the tallest and strongest man in the world, hadn’t he? Jillan had always felt safe with him around. He couldn’t bear to see him like this. His confidence suddenly fled and now he was scared.

Freda passed the blade back to Jillan and helped Jedadiah up, supporting most of his weight. ‘Friend Jillan, should I take your father out of the city through the rock now?’

‘I-I don’t know. If my father can’t stand, then maybe. It’ll take a long time though, so they might discover he’s gone before I can find mother. She isn’t down here with you, is she, Father?’

Jedadiah shook his head. ‘I’ll be all right once the blood is back in my limbs. Just give me a moment. They took Maria somewhere else. It feels like she’s not too far away. I can lead us there if we’re lucky.’

Jillan shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently.

You really haven’t thought this through very well, have you?

Be quiet! It’ll be all right
.

‘Okay,’ Jedadiah said, in obvious pain. ‘Let’s go, since I assume you’re not going to listen to me telling you just to leave us here and get away while you can.’

‘I’m sorry, Father, I can’t do that.’

‘Stubborn. Just like your mother,’ Jedadiah said with affection. ‘Come on.’

Freda helped them out through the wall of the cell and they moved slowly along a low dank tunnel. They passed other cells, most of them empty but a few with unmoving occupants. Jillan was grateful for the dark so that he did not have to see too much.

They came to the foot of some worn stairs, at the top of which daylight showed. Jillan motioned the others to stay where they were and tiptoed up. A minute later he came back down.

‘Two guards,’ he whispered. ‘Freda, can you go through the rock and hit them on the head?’

The rock woman looked unhappy at that. ‘Do I have to, friend Jillan? I might hurt them so bad that they can’t be mended again. Can’t I just take each of you past the guards through the rock? I can find a quiet place where we can come out of the rock without anyone knowing.’

Less exciting, but eminently more sensible, eh?

‘That’s a better idea. You
are
clever! Can you take both of us at once?’

She shook her head. ‘Your father is too big, friend Jillan. One at a time.’

Long minutes later the three of them were crouched in a natural blind alley that went up over thirty feet between rock faces. Hyvan’s Cross was a maze of sandstone buttes and pillars, a place of narrow defiles, corkscrew paths and scalloped steps up and down. Nothing was quite flat or straight. The city had been created by the wind carving the rock, hollowing it out and engraving it with its will. It had been the home Wayfar gifted to his followers, a home where they might wonder at his divine artistry and lift their worshipful voices in harmony with the transcendent music of his breath. Yet his followers had not been able to match his divinity and had constructed stone buildings in the more open areas, hollowed out extra homes from the rock face, hung rope ladders from higher rooms and created aerial walkways with rope-and-plank bridges – all of which had made the notes of the air discordant and caused the wind to batter the crag, its voice becoming one of fury. The discordance between Wayfar and his followers had only grown, until the inevitable cataclysm of the Saviours’ coming. The followers had fallen and were now mere shadows dancing and flitting chaotically through the city. The sound of Hyvan’s Cross was an eternal lament to the fall of its god. The city had been gouged, tunnelled, mined and fortified as it had been bent to the will of its new ruler and the Empire.

Freda wept as she heard all this on the wind. It called to her, begging her to go to the temple higher up in the city. Yet she could not leave her friends.

‘I sense Maria is that way. We should just try and walk like normal inhabitants,’ Jedadiah whispered.

‘Freda, it’s probably best if you follow us through the rock,’ Jillan suggested.

Freda nodded and sank from view.

Jedadiah and Jillan came out of their hiding place and made their way round wide columns, across small plazas and past cleverly terraced gardens. They passed a good number of women out browsing the goods of traders, squads of Heroes marching in files and children playing chase, but only received cursory glances in this place of so many.

‘How are we ever to find our way out of here?’ Jedadiah worried out loud.

Jillan knew his father had never liked crowds or the confined spaces of towns. ‘Don’t worry. Once we have Mother, all we need to do is follow the slope down. Thomas and my friends will be waiting near the gates into the city. I will pretend to be one of Thomas’s apprentices and leave on his wagon. Freda can take you and mother through the wall one by one.’

‘Thomas Ironshoe?’

‘Yes!’ Jillan grinned.

Jedadiah returned his son’s smile and ruffled his hair like he’d always done before. Jillan had always seemed to mind it back in Godsend, but not now.

Freda came out of the rock, the small woman in her arms, and placed her before Jillan and his father. She watched curiously as the reunited family hugged each other for a long time, as if they would never let go. Jillan’s father kissed the small woman and picked both her and his son up in one go. Jillan was laughing, Maria was crying. Why was the small woman crying? Yet Jillan and his father didn’t seem to mind. Kisses, a caressed cheek, forehead rested against forehead.

Then Maria was pulling away. ‘I prayed you would not come. Oh, why did you have to come here, my beloved son?’

Jillan looked crestfallen. ‘But I had to rescue you, Mother.’

‘It’s all right, Maria. We’re together again,’ Jillan’s father said, reaching for her, but she slapped his hand away.

‘You should know better than that, Jedadiah!’

Jillan’s father looked hurt. ‘But we can go somewhere, leave the Empire,’ he begged.

Pain in Maria’s eyes as she squeezed them shut and said tightly, ‘We have been Drawn, Jedadiah. We can never be free of the Empire. But the Saint will protect us. We can be a family again if we remain here.’

‘No!’ Jillan’s father drew back aghast. ‘This place is a prison. They will Draw our dear Jillan to the Saviours too, you know that. You cannot want that for him, Maria, not now we know how important he is. You cannot! What are you saying? Why won’t you look at me?’

‘Mother? What’s wrong? Just come with us down to the gates, where Thomas and my friends are waiting. Then we can all go home. Back to our house in Godsend. Just like before. There is a plague there, but I think I know how to help everyone.’

Her eyes came open and she gazed proudly at her son, her smile brave and trembling, her eyes shining with tears of heartbreak. She could not deny him, could not help nodding. ‘Then let us go, sweetheart, and be a family once more, if only for a little while. But you must promise me you will be brave, no matter what happens.’

‘Of course, Mother.’

‘Promise me, Jillan!’

‘I promise.’

‘Good. Jedadiah, help me as we go,’ she said, squeezing her husband’s massive hand hard and laying her other hand on Jillan’s shoulder.

They made their way down through the city as quickly as they could without risking undue attention. Freda moved through walls and stayed in the shadows as she ghosted along behind them. Several times it seemed like they were doubling back on themselves but they always made sure to spiral downwards. Their footsteps echoed in the narrow passages as if there were an army coming after them from just around the last bend, and Jillan found himself glancing back time and again.
Nearly there, nearly there
, he panted in time to his footfall and heartbeat.

At long last they came to a wide tunnel through a squat bluff, beyond which they could see an apron of open ground down to the wall encircling the crag. Was that Thomas’s wagon he could see down there inside the wall? Yes, the blacksmith was showing off his wares to a few Heroes.

They moved without hesitation into the tunnel, their strides lengthening. Like clouds passing over the sun, dark shapes began to move across the far end of the tunnel. Jillan craned his head left and right, trying to make them out.
No. Don’t let it be anything bad
. Hard boots filled the tunnel, and then a voice all around them, dripping with menace, stopped them in their tracks.

‘Is this how you repay my hospitality and indulgence then, little pagans? You think you can creep away without even a thank you? I know we haven’t always seen … eye to eye, Jillan, but there is such a thing as basic manners. Not exactly courteous to be stealing my guests away, now is it? Did you think I wouldn’t know? Had you forgotten that
the Saint always knows
? What say you, Captain Skathis?’