Kitabı oku: «The Redemption of Althalus», sayfa 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘Just exactly where’s this war?’ Eliar asked as he trotted along beside Althalus’ horse, ‘and what kind of people are we going to be fighting?’

‘War?’ Althalus asked.

‘People don’t rent soldiers just for show, Althalus. I’m fairly sure you didn’t go to all the trouble of getting me away from Andine just because you were lonesome. Sergeant Khalor always told us that we should find out as much about the people we’re going to be fighting as we possibly can.’

‘Your sergeant’s a very wise man, Eliar.’

‘We all looked up to him – even though he could be awfully picky about details sometimes. I’ll swear that he can talk about one speck of rust on a sword for half a day.’

‘Some soldiers are like that, I suppose,’ Althalus said. ‘I don’t get all that excited about it myself. A rusty sword kills somebody as well as a polished one does.’

‘We’re going to get along just fine,’ Eliar said, grinning broadly. ‘Now, then, who am I supposed to fight?’

‘The war we’re involved with isn’t exactly like an ordinary war – at least not yet. We haven’t quite reached the point of armies and battlefields.’

‘We’re still choosing up sides?’

Althalus blinked, and then he laughed. ‘That might just come closer to what we’re doing than anything I’ve heard so far.’

‘Watch your mouth,’ Emmy’s thought had a slight edge to it.

Althalus laughed again. ‘That’s why we absolutely had to get our hands on the Knife, Eliar,’ he told the boy. ‘It’s the only thing that can tell us who’s on our side. The ones we want can read it. Others can’t. Emmy can read more of it than you and I can, and it tells her where we’re supposed to go to recruit the people we’ll need.’

‘She’s not really a cat, then, is she? My mother’s got a cat, but all her cat does is eat and sleep and chase mice. If Emmy’s that important, you took an awful chance when you traded her for the Knife the way you did. Andine’s a very strange little lady. You’re lucky she didn’t chain Emmy to her bed-post.’

‘The way she had you chained to that pillar in her throne room?’

Eliar shuddered. ‘That was a real bad time for me, Althalus. The way she used to look at me gave me the wibblies. She’d sit there for hours playing with my knife and staring right straight at me. Women are very strange, aren’t they?’

‘Oh, yes, Eliar. Indeed they are.’

Shortly before noon, Althalus noticed a farmstead some distance back from the road they were following, and he turned into the lane that led toward the house. ‘Let’s get you mounted, Eliar,’ he said.

‘I can keep up with you on foot, Althalus.’

‘Possibly, but we’ve got a long way to go. I’ll talk with the farmer here and see what he’s got to offer.’

While Althalus spoke with the seedy-looking farmer, Eliar carefully examined the farm horses in the large corral behind the farmhouse. ‘This one’, he said, rubbing the ears of a large sorrel horse.

The farmer started to object, but he changed his mind when Althalus jingled his purse.

‘You paid him too much,’ Eliar said as they rode away from the farm.

‘The money doesn’t really mean anything.’

‘Money always means something – unless you just made it up in the same way you make up the food we eat.’ Then he looked sharply at Althalus. ‘You did, didn’t you?’ he demanded. ‘You just reared back, waved your hand, and there was a great big pile of gold, wasn’t there?’

‘No, as a matter of fact, I –’ Althalus stopped, his eyes suddenly going very wide. ‘Can I do that?’ he sent his startled question at Emmy, who was dozing in the hood of his cloak.

‘Probably, yes.’

‘Then why did you make me dig it up?’

‘Honest work’s good for you, pet. Besides, it doesn’t exactly work that way. Food’s one thing, but minerals are quite a bit different.’

‘Why?’

‘They just are, Althalus. There’s certain balance involved that we shouldn’t tamper with.’

‘Would you like to explain that?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

They rode hard for the next couple of days until they were some distance away from Osthos, and then they slowed to give their horses a bit of rest. The plains of Treborea, drought-stricken and barren under the hot summer sun, were depressing, so Althalus passed the time telling Eliar slightly elaborated stories about his adventures back in the days before he’d gone to the House at the End of the World. Like all Arums, Eliar enjoyed good stories, and he was exactly the kind of audience that warmed Althalus’ heart.

Althalus did cheat just a little, though, as they rode along. Every time Eliar’s attention started to wander, a chicken leg or a chunk of still-warm bread would immediately recapture it. The arrangement worked out rather well, actually.

Emmy, however, found long naps much more interesting than the stories, for some reason.

Eliar more or less took over the care of their horses when they set up camp each night. Althalus produced the hay and oats their mounts needed, and not infrequently he was obliged to provide water for them as well. Eliar did the actual work, though, and the horses seemed quite fond of him. All in all, Althalus rather liked the arrangement.

They passed the walled city of Leupon a few days later, crossed the River Kanthon, and entered the lands of the Equeros. The lake country was not as parched as the plains of Perquaine and Treborea had been, and the population there had not been forced to huddle around slowly diminishing water holes or along river banks.

It took them about ten days to cross Equero, and then they entered mankind’s ancestral homeland of Medyo. Five days later they reached the place where the River Medyo forked and where the ruins of the city of Awes was located.

‘What happened here?’ Eliar asked as they stood on the west bank of the river waiting for the barge that – for a price – ferried travelers across to the ruins.

‘There was a war, I’m told,’ Althalus replied. ‘The way I understand it, back in those days the priesthood ruled all of Medyo and the surrounding lands. They got a little too greedy finally, and the army decided that the world might be a nicer place without so many priests, so they marched in to see if they could arrange that. The priests had an army of their own, and those two armies had some extended discussions in the streets of Awes.’

‘It must have been a long, long time ago. They’ve got full-grown trees standing in the streets over there.’

‘Althalus,’ Emmy’s voice murmured, ‘I need to talk with Eliar directly, so I’m going to borrow your voice. I think it might be easier if he’s holding me while we do this.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Just do it, Althalus’, she replied. ‘Don’t keep asking silly questions.’

Althalus took her up and held her out to their youthful companion. ‘Here’, he said. ‘Emmy wants to talk to you. Hold her.’

Eliar put his hands behind his back. ‘I think I’d rather not’, he said.

‘You’d better get over that. Take her, Eliar.’

‘I don’t understand cat-talk, Althalus,’ Eliar protested, taking Emmy with obvious reluctance.

‘I’m sure she’ll make you understand.’

‘Get out of the way, Althalus,’ Emmy’s voice commanded. ‘Count trees or something. I’m going to be using your voice, so don’t interfere.’ Then Althalus heard his own voice saying, ‘Can you hear me, Eliar?’ His voice seemed lighter, and it had a higher pitch.

‘Of course I can hear you, Althalus’, Eliar replied. ‘You’re only a few feet away. Your voice sounds a little odd, though.’

‘I’m not Althalus, Eliar,’ the voice coming from Althalus’ lips said. ‘I’m just using his voice. Look at me, not at him.’

Eliar looked down at Emmy with astonishment.

Emmy wrinkled her nose. ‘You need a bath,’ she said.

‘I’ve been a little busy. Ma’am,’ the boy replied.

‘You can pet me, if you’d like,’ she suggested.

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Eliar began to stroke her.

‘Not quite so hard.’

‘Sorry, Ma’am.’

‘He’s such a nice boy’, Emmy murmured in her borrowed voice. ‘All right, Eliar, listen to me very carefully. There’s a distinct chance that we’ll encounter enemies over there on the other side of the river. What do you do when you meet an enemy?’

‘Kill him, Ma’am.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Emmy!’ Althalus overrode her usurpation of his voice.

‘Stay out of this, Althalus. This is between the boy and me. Now then, Eliar, we’ll be meeting priests over there. I want you to show the Knife to every one of them we meet. Can you pretend to be stupid?’

Eliar made a rueful kind of face. ‘Ma’am,’ he said, ‘I’m a country boy from the highlands of Arum. We invented stupid.’

‘I’d really prefer it if you called me “Emmy”, Eliar; we don’t have to be so formal. This is the way I want you to do this: when we talk to a priest, put on your best Arum expression and hold the Knife out for him to see. Then you say, “Excuse me, yer priestship, but kin you tell me what’s wrote on this here Knife?”’

‘Probably not with a straight face, Emmy,’ Eliar said, laughing. ‘Is there really anybody in the whole world who’s that simple-minded?’

‘You’d be surprised, Eliar. Practice saying it until you can do it without coming down with the giggles. Now, most of the priests won’t be able to make any sense out of what’s written on the Knife. They’ll either admit that they can’t read it, or they’ll pretend to be too busy to take the time. The one we’re looking for will read it in exactly the same way you did when you read it, and the Knife will sing to you as soon as he reads it aloud.’

‘I sort of thought that was what was going to happen, Emmy. What’s this got to do with enemies, though?’

‘If you do happen to show the Knife to an enemy, he’ll scream and try to cover his eyes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the sight of the Knife will hurt him – probably more than anything has hurt him in his entire life. As soon as somebody does that, drive the Knife right into his heart.’

‘All right, Emmy.’

‘No problems? No questions?’

‘No, Emmy, none at all. You’re in charge of things. If you tell me to do something, I’ll do it. Sergeant Khalor always told us that we’re supposed to obey orders immediately without asking any stupid questions, and your orders are really very simple. If somebody screams when I show him the Knife, he’ll be dead before the echo fades away.’

Emmy reached up one soft paw and stroked his cheek. ‘You’re such a good boy, Eliar,’ she purred.

‘Thank you, Emmy. I try my best.’

‘I hope you’ve been listening very carefully, Althalus. Maybe you should have taken some notes for future reference. It saves so much time when people know how to follow orders without all the endless discussion I get from some people I know.’

‘Can I have my voice back now?’

‘Yes, pet, you may. I’m done with it – at least for right now. I’ll let you know when I need it again.’

The barge took them across the west fork of the River Medyo, and they rode on into the ruins of the city. The priests who lived there wore cowled robes, for the most part, and they had built crude hovels among the ruins. There were some noticeable differences between the various groups of priests. Those who lived in the northern part of the ruins wore black robes, the ones in central Awes were robed in white, and the ones closest to the river fork wore brown. Althalus noted that they tended not to talk to each other very much – except to argue.

‘No, you’ve got it all wrong,’ a black-robed priest from the northern end of town was saying to a fat priest in a white robe. ‘The Wolf was in the ninth house when that happened, not the tenth.’

‘My charts don’t lie,’ the chubby priest replied hotly. ‘The sun had moved to the fourth house by then, and that definitely moved the Wolf to the tenth.’

‘What are they talking about?’ Althalus silently demanded of Emmy.

‘Astrology. It’s one of the cornerstones of religion.’

‘Which religion?’

‘Most of them, actually. Religion’s based on a desire to know what’s going to happen in the future. Astrologers believe that the stars control that.’

‘Are they right?’

‘Why would the stars care what happens here? Besides, most of the stars the priests argue about don’t actually exist any more.’

‘I think that one missed me, Em.’

‘The stars are fire, and fires eventually burn out.’

‘If they’re burned out, why are the priests still arguing about them?’

‘Because they don’t know that they’ve burned out.’

‘All they have to do is look, Em.’

‘It doesn’t quite work that way, Althalus. The stars are a lot farther away than people realize, and it takes a long time for their light to reach us. Probably about half of what you see when you look up at night isn’t really there any more. To put it another way, the priests are trying to predict the future by looking at the ghosts of dead stars.’

Althalus shrugged. ‘It gives them something to do, I suppose.’ He looked around at the ruined buildings and rubble-strewn streets. The robed and cowled priests were moving about singly or in small groups, but there were more conventionally dressed men in Awes as well. He saw one man who’d set up what appeared to be a shop next to a partially collapsed wall. The man had a rough table with pots, pans and kettles on it.

‘Welcome friends,’ the fellow said hopefully, rubbing his hands together. ‘Look and buy. Look and buy. I have the best pots and kettles in all of Awes, and my prices are the lowest you’ll find in any shop here.’

‘Be careful, Althalus,’ Emmy murmured. ‘That’s Khnom. He works for Ghend.’

‘Then Ghend knew that we were coming here?’

‘Maybe not. He might have just spread his agents out to watch for us. Fix Khnom’s face in your mind. We’ll probably run across him again.’

‘Was there anything in particular you were looking for, friend?’ the ostensible merchant asked. He was a small-sized man, and he seemed to be very careful not to look Althalus in the eye.

‘Actually, I need some information, neighbor,’ Althalus replied. ‘I’m not familiar with the proprieties here in Awes. Can I just set up shop in any ruined building that’s empty?’

‘That wouldn’t be a good idea,’ the merchant advised. ‘Most of the business that goes on here in Awes takes place in this middle part of town, and the white-robes who control it sort of expect a “donation” from you before you open for business.’

‘A bribe, you mean?’

I wouldn’t use that word to their faces. Pretend to be some religious simpleton. All priests love feeble-minded parishioners.’ Khnom cast a sly, sidelong glance at Althalus to see how his somewhat sacrilegious remark had gone over.

Althalus kept his face bland. ‘What are their feelings about us pitching our tents at the back of the shop?’ he asked.

‘They’d rather that we didn’t – and you probably wouldn’t want to. They pray a lot, and they’re noisy about it. The rest of us businessmen have a sort of community over by what’s left of the east wall of the city.’

‘How do these priests get the money to buy anything?’

‘They sell horoscopes to gullible people who believe in that nonsense, and they charge a fairly steep price.’

‘Good. They swindle their parishioners, and then we swindle them. I love doing business with a man who devoutly believes he’s more clever than I am. Thanks for the information.’

‘Glad I could help. Do you need any pots or pans?’

‘Not right at the moment, no. Thanks all the same.’

‘He knows who you are, Althalus,’ Emmy’s voice warned.

‘Yes, I know. He’s clever, I’ll give him that, but he’s not really a merchant.’

‘How did you know that?’

‘He didn’t once ask me what line I was in. That’s the first question any merchant asks. No merchant wants a competitor right across the street. Should we get rid of him? Eliar and I could kill him right now.’

‘No. You two aren’t the ones who are supposed to deal with Khnom. Just be careful around him, that’s all.’

‘Where do we go now?’ Eliar asked.

‘There’s a merchant community over by the east wall,’ Althalus replied. ‘We’ll set up camp there and start looking for the one we want first thing in the morning.’

‘Could you make me some soap?’ Eliar asked as they led their horses off down the rubble-strewn street.

‘Probably. Why?’

‘Emmy wants me to take a bath. Is that the first thing that pops into every woman’s mind? Every time I’d visit my mother back home, those were usually the first words that came out of her mouth.’

‘You don’t like bathing, I take it?’

‘Oh, I’ll bathe if it really gets necessary, but once a week’s usually enough, isn’t it? Unless you’ve been cleaning the stables, of course.’

‘Emmy’s got a very sharp nose, Eliar. Let’s neither of us go out of our way to offend her.’

‘You too, Althalus,’ Emmy’s voice murmured.

‘I don’t need a bath, Em,’ he silently protested.

‘You’re wrong. You definitely need a bath. You’ve been riding for several weeks now, and you’ve got a very horsey fragrance about you. Bathe. Soon. Please.’

They started out early the following morning, and after a few awkward starts Eliar became more proficient. His open, boyish face helped quite a bit as he hopefully approached each hooded priest with his question. Most of the priests, Althalus noticed, refused to come right out and admit that they couldn’t read the alien script carved into the Knife-blade Eliar showed them. Their usual response was a brusque, ‘I’m too busy for that kind of nonsense.’ Several they encountered, however, offered to translate – for a price. One hollow-eyed fanatic launched a blistering denunciation, declaring that any script that he couldn’t read was obviously the handwriting of the devil himself.

Althalus and Eliar left him in the middle of the street still preaching to nobody in particular.

‘Here comes another one,’ Eliar said quietly. ‘Maybe we can start making wagers about what they’ll say when I show them the Knife. This one looks like an “I’m too busy” sort of fellow to me.’

‘I’d put him in the “I’ll have to charge you for a reading” crowd,’ Althalus replied, grinning.

‘What gives him away?’

‘He’s cock-eyed. He’s got one eye on the sky watching for Deiwos and the other on the ground looking for a penny that somebody might have dropped.’

‘I just hope he’s not like the last one. The next one who calls my Knife an instrument of the devil is going to get my fist in his face.’

The priest approaching them up the empty street had a gaunt, hungry look about him, and his disconnected eyes and wild hair gave him the appearance of a lunatic. His shabby brown robe was filthy, and there was a powerful odor about him.

‘Excuse me, your worship,’ Eliar said politely, going up to the cock-eyed holy man. ‘I just bought this Knife and it seems to have some kind of writing on the blade. I never got around to learning how to read, so I can’t tell what it says. Could you help me out?’

‘Let me see it,’ the priest growled in a harsh, rasping voice.

Eliar held out his laurel-leaf dagger.

The sudden scream was shockingly loud, echoing from the ruined walls of nearby buildings. The ragged priest stumbled back, covering his eyes with his hands and screaming as if he’d just been dipped in boiling pitch.

‘I hope you won’t take this personally, your worship,’ Eliar said, driving the Knife directly into the shrieking priest’s chest.

The scream cut off abruptly, and the dead man collapsed with not so much as a twitch.

Althalus spun, his eyes searching every vacant window and doorway. As luck had it, they were alone. ‘Get him out of sight!’ he barked at Eliar. ‘Hurry!’

Eliar quickly put the Knife away, seized the fellow’s wrists and dragged him behind a partially collapsed wall. ‘Did anybody see us?’ he asked just a bit breathlessly.

‘I don’t think so,’ Althalus replied. ‘Come here and keep watch. I want to search the body.’

‘What for?’ Eliar stood up. His hands were trembling slightly.

‘Calm down,’ Althalus told him. ‘Get a grip on yourself.’

‘I’m all right, Althalus,’ Eliar said. ‘It’s just that he startled me when he started screaming like that.’

‘Why did you apologize before you killed him?’

‘Just trying to be polite, I guess. Mother taught me to mind my manners. You know how mothers are.’

‘Watch the street. Let me know if somebody happens along.’ Althalus roughly searched the body, not really knowing what he might be looking for, but the dead man’s pockets had absolutely nothing in them. He kicked a bit of rubble over the body, and then he came back out into the street.

‘Did you find anything?’ Eliar asked. His voice still sounded a little excited.

‘Calm down,’ Althalus told him. ‘If you’re going to do this, do it right. People who are all worked up make mistakes.’

Then a black-robed priest came striding up the rubble-littered street toward them. He was a fairly young man, and his hair was a rich auburn color. His dark eyes were flashing indignantly. ‘I saw what you just did!’ he said. ‘You men are murderers!’

‘Shouldn’t you get a few details before you start making accusations like that?’ Althalus said calmly.

‘You killed him in cold blood!’

‘My blood wasn’t particularly cold,’ Althalus said. ‘Was yours, Eliar?’

‘Not really,’ Eliar replied.

‘The man was not a priest. Reverend Sir,’ Althalus told their accuser. ‘Quite the opposite – unless Daeva’s set up a priesthood of his own here lately.’

‘Daeva!’ the youthful priest gasped. ‘How did you know that name?’

‘Is it supposed to be a secret?’ Althalus asked mildly.

‘That information is not supposed to be in the hands of the general population. Ordinary people aren’t equipped to deal with it.’

‘Ordinary people are probably much wiser than you think they are, Reverend,’ Althalus told him. ‘Every family has a few black sheep. There’s nothing really unusual about it. Deiwos and Dweia aren’t really happy that their brother went astray, but it wasn’t really their fault.’

‘You’re a priest, aren’t you?’

‘You make it sound almost like an accusation,’ Althalus said, smiling slightly. ‘Eliar and I sort of work for Deiwos, but I wouldn’t go quite so far as to call us priests. The man Eliar just put to sleep was one of the people who work for Daeva. As soon as we discovered that, we killed him. There’s a war in the works right now, Reverend. Eliar and I are soldiers, and we’re going to fight that war.’

‘I’m a soldier of Deiwos, too,’ the priest asserted.

‘That hasn’t been established yet, my young friend. There’s a little test you’d have to take first. That’s what you just saw happen here. The fellow lying over behind that wall didn’t pass the test, so Eliar killed him.’

‘The stars haven’t said anything about a war.’

‘Maybe the news hasn’t reached them yet.’

‘The stars know everything.’

‘Maybe. But maybe they’ve been told to keep the information to themselves. If I happened to be the one who’s running this war, I don’t think I’d be scrawling my battle-plans across the sky every night, would you?’

The priest’s eyes grew troubled. ‘You’re attacking the very core of religion,’ he accused.

‘No. I’m attacking a misconception. You look at the sky and imagine that you’re seeing pictures up there, but they aren’t really pictures, are they? They’re just disconnected points of light. There isn’t a Raven up there, or a Wolf, or a Serpent, or any other imaginary picture. The war’s right here, not up there. But this is all beside the point. Let’s find out if you really are one of the soldiers of the Sky-God.’

‘I have taken a vow to serve him,’ the priest asserted devoutly.

‘Did he ever get around to telling you whether or not he accepted your vow?’ Althalus asked slyly. ‘Maybe you don’t qualify.’

The auburn-haired young man’s eyes grew even more troubled.

‘You’re filled with doubts, aren’t you, friend?’ Althalus said sympathetically. ‘I know that feeling very, very well. Sometimes your faith falters and everything you want to believe seems to be nothing but a mockery and a deception – some cruel joke.’

‘I want to believe! I try so hard to make myself believe.’

‘Eliar and I are here to make it easier for you,’ Althalus assured him. ‘Show him the Knife, Eliar.’

‘If you say so,’ Eliar said obediently. He looked at the troubled priest. ‘Don’t get excited about this, Your Worship,’ he said. ‘I’m going to show my Knife to you. I’m not threatening you with it or anything. There’s some writing on the blade that you’re supposed to read to us. If you can’t read it, we’ll shake hands and part friends. If you do happen to see a word on the blade, you’ll be joining us. This is that test Althalus was talking about.’

‘Just show him the Knife, Eliar,’ Althalus said. ‘You don’t have to make a speech to him.’

‘He gets grouchy sometimes,’ Eliar told the now-baffled priest. ‘He’s the oldest man in the world, and you know how grouchy old men get sometimes. We’d better get down to business before he starts jumping up and down and frothing at the mouth.’

‘Eliar!’ Althalus almost shouted. ‘Show him the Knife!’

‘You see what I mean about him?’ Eliar said. He took the Knife out from under his belt and pointed at the complex engraving on the blade. ‘This is what you’re supposed to try to read,’ he explained. ‘The word sort of jumps right out at you, so you don’t really have to work at it too hard.’

‘Eliar!’ Althalus almost pleaded.

‘I’m just trying to help him, Althalus.’ Eliar held the hilt of the dagger firmly in his fist and turned his hand to hold the blade directly in front of the trembling priest’s pale face. ‘What does it say. Your Worship?’ he asked politely.

The youthful priest went paler still, as if every drop of blood had drained from his face. ‘Illuminate,’ he replied so reverently that it seemed almost a prayer.

The dagger in Eliar’s fist broke into joyful song.

‘I knew he was the one, Althalus,’ Eliar said in an off-hand sort of way. ‘That’s why I was trying to sort of ease him into it. You’re a fairly good sergeant, but sometimes you’re just a little rough. You ought to work on that, if you don’t mind my saying so.’

‘Thanks,’ Althalus replied in a flat, almost unfriendly way.

‘It’s part of my job, Althalus,’ Eliar replied, tucking the Knife back under his belt. ‘I’m sort of your second in command, so if I see a way to do things better, I’m supposed to suggest it to you. You don’t have to listen if you don’t want to, of course, but I’d be letting you down if I didn’t say it, wouldn’t I?’

‘Don’t say anything, Althalus,’ Emmy silently commanded.

Althalus sighed. ‘No, dear,’ he replied in a resigned tone.