Read The Plains of Kallanash Online
Authors: Pauline M. Ross
“One of the books I brought down from the higher levels for you.”
He went and fetched it from their apartment, and spread the pages out on the table while Mia and Hurst bent over it, peering at the tiny script and strangely devised lettering.
“Here,” Dethin said, pointing. “‘Until the One shall come forth to set us free and the Prophecy shall be fulfilled in all its terms.’ See?”
“But it doesn’t say what the terms are?”
“No, not there. I’ve found a couple of other references, but nothing very specific. Perhaps it’s a great secret and it’s not written down anywhere. They don’t read or write, do they?”
“So I’ve heard. And they must take the oath using their strange hand signals. Not so much secret, as no one else can understand them. And there’s nothing else in this book about it?”
“Not that I’ve found. Mind you, I haven’t read every last word, just skimmed it, really. It hurts my eyes to read too much at once.”
“Do you want me to look through it, see if I can find something?” Mia said.
“Oh – would you?” Relief flooded his face. “I’d be grateful. I’m – not used to reading much anymore.”
In the end, it wasn’t Mia who found the prophecy, it was Gaminor. She had brought all her favourite books down from the top of the tower, and after talking to Dethin, she and Gullinor had set to work trawling through everything they had which mentioned the Silent Guards. So one day at the noon meal, Sylinor and Pashinor came to find Dethin, big smiles on their faces, and a massive wooden-bound book under one arm.
“Gaminor and Gullinor send their compliments,” Sylinor said, “and think you should have a look at this.”
He set the book down on the table and opened it at a page marked with a thin strip of leather. The pages were yellowed with age but otherwise unblemished and free of dust. It was the type made with single pages, not strips joined together.
“Here, look. The prophecy.”
“‘We the Guardians of all the Temples of the Inner Plains of Kallanash do solemnly swear to uphold…’ This is their oath,” Dethin said, puzzled.
“Yes, yes, it’s in the oath. Right at the bottom, look – here. From
‘And we desire no other…’”
Dethin turned back to the book. “‘And we desire no other life, keeping ourselves with pride only to the company of our brothers and forsaking the comfort of wife or child, for every day of our lives, whether that be long or short, until the day foretold shall come to pass, when the One will free us from our servitude; the Gods shall send Him, and He shall be like no man of this world; He shall come from Outside to free all the people from Oppression and bring Joy to those bound to the will of others; and He shall declare an end to our time of bondage, allowing us to choose each of us his own path in life. He shall declare Himself to us in the shadow of the Great Temple, and He shall prove Himself by His great powers, given to Him by grace of the Gods, and the proof of it will lie in the power of His voice, and in the Turning of the Worm.’
”
“What in the Vortex does that mean?” Hurst asked in bewildered tones.
Mia could feel bubbles of excitement rising inside. “Isn’t it obvious? An outsider, who’ll free them from oppression and – turning the worm? Who do we know who’s turned the worm?”
“Dethin? The
keelarim
?” Hurst began to smile. “And the power of his voice! Of course! I think you’re right.”
She laughed from pure pleasure.
“Come on,” Hurst said, grabbing her hand. “Let’s show this to Tanist.”
Dethin was the only one unconvinced by the argument that he was the subject of the prophecy.
“The Silent Guards know nothing about the
keelarim
,” he muttered. “How is that going to help?”
“Let’s put you in the shadow of the Great Temple,” Tanist said, “and you can talk to them and we’ll see what happens.”
“And if they don’t accept me? We’ll have the same situation as last time, us against the Silent Guards
and
a lot of Skirmishers, and a second withdrawal would make us look weak.”
“We still have our swords. We’ve talked a few Karningholders out of their opposition, so we should have greater numbers this time. If it comes to it, we’ll fight for it. But if we can avoid that… It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”
Hurst rather liked the idea of Dethin simply talking his way out of trouble. He remembered how willing the Silent Guards had been to defer to him at the top of the tower, when he had made his pretty speech about freedom and oppression. He certainly had a way with words. If he could do that again, and the Silent Guards laid down their weapons, they could take over the Great Temple without bloodshed, and how good that would be! He need only tell them of the
keelarim
, he supposed, since there was probably no way of summoning a few to demonstrate his power. Although there were endless tunnels below the Great Temple – maybe a few connected to
keelarim
holes.
It was going to take a few days to arrange to bring all their supporters together, and Hurst found himself at something of a loose end. Tanist sent for him less often, perhaps a way of gently easing him out of the political machinations in readiness for a return to the Karning with Mia. He didn’t mind that. He had always been happier to be active, and sitting around in endless meetings bored him witless. His brother Klemmast, now the preferred second-in-command, was much better suited to such a task.
So he got back into regular training, often with Dethin, now that Mia was up and about. The three of them ate all their meals together, spent the stillness in their apartment and often spent the evenings together too, Hurst teaching Dethin to play crowns while Mia read, or sometimes they all read, the three of them sitting in companionable silence with books open before them. Then they all went to bed together, and that still felt right.
He had to admit that he liked Dethin. Even though several of his brothers were at the tower now, not to mention cousins and uncles, he still preferred the Warlord’s company above almost anyone else, apart from Mia and his own Companions. He wondered sometimes just what would happen when he and Mia went back to the Karning, whether Dethin would go with them or not, but no one else mentioned it so he didn’t either.
Hurst thought he ought to be jealous of Dethin, but somehow he wasn’t. He would have shared Mia with Jonnor, not liking it but accepting it as the price to be paid for her. But this didn’t feel that way, like a compromise, not anymore. Mia was still his, even when she was sprawled in sleep across Dethin, her arm resting on his chest, one leg still entangled with his. He trusted him, that was what it was. Trusted both of them. And the best of it was that he no longer had to beg, not from Jonnor, not from anyone. Mia herself decided what she wanted, and what she wanted, it seemed, was both of them. It was a good arrangement.
Hurst came often to see his co-husband, Bernast, but his condition was almost unchanged. His physical injuries
– great gashes across his back where he had been flogged, numerous bruises and lines of strange small burns up both arms – had almost healed now, but his mind had not recovered. The wild mutterings, the semi-conscious ramblings, the unpredictable jerks and twitches had all subsided into a deeper, calmer state of sleep. His Companions dressed him each day, and moved him into different positions periodically, but still he lay unmoving, eyes closed, breathing peacefully.
Often when Hurst arrived, one of the Companions would be reading to Bernast. They talked constantly to him, or to each other, including him in the conversation, or else read strips from a book, although Bernast had never been a great reader. Hurst supposed it made the Companions feel better, for it seemed to make no difference to Bernast himself. Sometimes it was a message from Henissa, once communications to the tower were established, full of emotional wishes for Bernast’s recovery, and news about her own good health and the approaching birth of their child. Her pregnancy had prevented her travelling to the Ring for the winter quiet, which was probably just as well. She would have been distraught when Bernast was incarcerated, but in fact she knew nothing of it until he was safe again.
But then, which of them was truly safe now? For all Tanist was head of this Council of his, and no blood had yet been spilled, there was no security for any of them until the Great Temple was taken, and the Trannatta all sent away. Far away, he hoped.
And if they couldn’t take the Great Temple? If they had to fight, Skirmisher against Skirmisher, and with the Silent Guards an unknown third participant, how would that end? Only in grief and pain, and perhaps the end of all their hopes.
No point worrying about it. He would fight for the right to choose his own life, the right not to live in fear and he would fight for those he loved. Beyond that, it was for the Gods to decide.
No, not the Gods. This battle would be settled by Karningers.
~~~
Late one afternoon, when he was beginning to think about meat and a glass or two of wine, Hurst went back to the apartment to find Mia. She was in bed, half dozing, while Dethin read quietly in the window seat.
“Come on, sleepy,” Hurst said, bending down to kiss her. “It’s time to eat.”
“Not yet,” she said. “It’s still daylight. I have time for a bath.”
“Oh – I wish I’d thought of that.”
“Plenty of room for both of us. For all three of us, if it comes to that.”
Hurst was taken aback for a moment, but then he caught Dethin trying not to grin. And as it turned out, there was indeed plenty of room. It felt very intimate bathing together, even though they shared a bed and had all seen each other naked before. Hurst couldn’t help watching as Mia soaped herself all over.
“Let me know if you want a hand with that,” he murmured.
“Not a chance,” she said. “We’ll never get down for meat if you start.”
But she giggled, and tossed the soap at him, and instantly they were splashing about like children. But Dethin sitting opposite them was frozen, staring at Hurst as if transfixed. It made Hurst feel a bit uncomfortable, such unblinking scrutiny.
“What is it?”
“Your leg.”
“Oh. Well, you’ve seen it before, surely? It’s not a thing of great beauty.” He lifted his twisted leg clear of the water, shifting it left and right, and looked questioningly at Dethin.
“It looks
– straighter. Don’t you think?” Dethin said. “And you’re not limping as much lately.”
“Well, I haven’t done much to tire it recently.” He looked at its irregularities more carefully, then shrugged. “I don’t see any difference myself. I know the tower fixes a lot of things, but that
– well, I don’t expect miracles.”
It was when they were dressing afterwards, and Dethin was combing out Mia’s wet hair, that she turned to Hurst and said casually, “Have you thought much about what Tanist said? What we’ll do when all this is settled?”
He hadn’t. He wasn’t one for planning and forethought at the best of times, but it didn’t seem like a question that merited much attention. He shrugged. “I suppose we’ll go back to the Karning, won’t we? To see the children, pick up the threads.”
She was silent. Was that the wrong answer? Or was there was some underlying meaning that he wasn’t getting?
“Isn’t that what we want?”
She was very still, watching him, perhaps measuring his answer against some invisible standard. Dethin had paused, comb in mid-air, but then he returned to his task, his face blank.
Mia took a breath, exhaled. “When you say ‘we’… what does that mean?”
“What? We
– I mean us, of course. The three of us.” The hint of a smile, from both of them. “That hardly needs to be said, surely.”
“I think it
does
need to be said.”
“Why, because of Tanist? Gods, don’t take any notice of him! It’s up to us what we decide to do, isn’t it? It’s nothing to do with anyone else.”
“Of course!” she said, suddenly fierce. “But
we
need to say it. To each other.”
“Oh. You mean, like an oath? Swearing to be true to each other for evermore
– that sort of thing?”
“No oaths,” Dethin said quietly. “We none of us know what might happen in the future, how circumstances may change. Forever is too big a commitment, especially now that everything is fluid.”
“So – what then?” Hurst said, bewildered.
Mia glanced up at him, her face serious. “We have to say what we mean, that’s all. Clearly and unambiguously. We drifted into this situation rather, because it was expedient, but the time is coming when we have to decide what our future will be. Tanist’s right about that, at least. I know exactly what I want, and I’m pretty sure of Dethin too, but I don’t know about you, Hurst. What future do you want?”
“I want us to stay together,” he said at once. “All of us.”
“No reservations?” she asked.
“No. Not anymore. At first – well, of course I was a bit wary of him. He’s a lot better looking than me, after all.” Dethin’s mouth twitched at that. “I was afraid he’d run off with you. But not now. I’m fine with things this way.”
She nodded and smiled. “Good. That’s all right then. And now, if you’ve finished titivating me, Warlord, I’d like something to eat.”
But Hurst hesitated. “Dethin? Are you happy with this?”
Dethin nodded and set the comb down on a table. Hurst couldn’t see his face, and for an instant was left wondering. But when he turned back, he was smiling, just a little. “If Mia is happy, I’m happy,” he said gravely.
“Exactly!” said Hurst, grinning at him.
“So that’s settled,” she said.
~~~
The march to the Great Temple would take place a few days after brightmoon. Hurst would have preferred an earlier date, to take the maximum advantage of the evening light, but Tanist could not make the arrangements with all his supporting forces any earlier. They were camped in the barrens, for there were no open spaces in the Ring large enough to accommodate so many armed men. Tanist would try to persuade the Skirmishers to join the rebellion, and he spoke optimistically of Dethin charming the Silent Guards into laying down their weapons, but if everything failed he was still planning for battle.
“There will be light enough,” Gantor said to Hurst’s worries. “We will be there before noon, and may the Gods help us all if we’re still fighting at moonset.”
All the Skirmishers were to go, while the less well trained warriors from beyond the border (
“the Warlord’s men” as Tanist called them) would stay behind to guard the tower. Mia was to stay too, for after her collapse at the assembly, no one wished to expose her to an even larger gathering. But Hurst and Dethin were both to go, and Hurst fretted about her rather.
“You still have the tunnel,” he reminded her. “If this goes badly, then you and Tenya can escape that way. Keep a pack with food ready at all times, and if you feel anxious, just go.”
“And what about everyone else?” she said gently. “The Nine, the kitchen women, the healers? What about Bernast? I can’t just run away and leave them.”
“The tower is safe enough,” Dethin said. “Keep plenty of food in the living quarters, and stay up there. The ramp is the only way up, and it’s very defensible. Ainsley will be in charge, and that’s the advice I’ve given him. My two Captains, Killin and Cristamond, will be here too, and if it were me, I’d rather trust myself to their swords than the tunnel. You never know who
– or what – you might meet down there.”
It was no comfort to Hurst to imagine Mia cooped up in the tower, perhaps besieged by troops loyal to the Slaves. He hated to leave her, but Klemmast had already left to rejoin his own Skirmishers, so Hurst was back in his role as Tanist’s second in command. He wondered if his own Hundreds might be waiting out there in the barrens with all the others. He had sent no instructions to them, nor had Bernast, but still they might choose to come.
There was no hope of approaching the Great Temple in secrecy. Several thousand men in battle gear could not sneak about unnoticed, and even the small contingent from the tower would have to emerge from the tunnel outside the temple walls and march through the streets. Those from the barrens would have to break camp, make their way to one of the sky ship tunnels and walk right through the mountains as well. They would be lucky not to find their route held against them. No, they could not catch anyone unawares. All they could hope for was superiority of numbers over the Silent Guards and the Skirmishers loyal to them. Or for Dethin to pull off his little act as the One from the prophecy.
They left shortly before dawn, and made their way in silence out of the entrance hall, down the stairs and across the Hall of Magic. Tanist and his Companions led the way, winding back and forth, with the rest following in a long line until the whole floor was a writhing snake of Skirmishers. Hurst laughed inwardly at the incongruity of it. There they were, marching off to battle
– to death, perhaps! – but first they had to follow the black pathway precisely, wherever it led. He recalled the barbarians on their way to battle, spilling outwards like a flood across the plains, singing and beating drums and clashing spear to shield – that was the proper way to approach a battle, he thought, not this silent crawling worm.