Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series Read online

  ‘If I am the Dragon Lord, then I must seek out the silver one.’ He raised his voice over Fenj’s hiss of dismay. ‘Yes. I will find Gremara.’

  Much later, Tika lay curled by the fire, wide awake, and thinking of Fenj’s story of the silver Dragon, and of Mim declaring that he would find her. She sat up, pushing a pillow between her back and the wall. So many things to think of. How had all this happened? She heard Baras say something in the darker end of the hall, and then Gan’s murmured reply. Soft footsteps came towards the hearth and Gan eased himself onto a pile of pillows with a stifled groan.

  ‘You could always use the chambers above,’ Tika remarked. ‘And sleep in a bed. Mim and I stay here because of the Dragons and Nolli.’

  ‘I know, but there is still an air of unpleasantness up there. We all seem to prefer being nearer the Dragons too.’ He smiled at her in the flickering firelight.

  ‘Gan, should you come south with us? You are the Captain of the Lady’s Guards.’

  ‘Soran is well able to do that job, and I think it is time we let humans attempt things that we have always imagined we alone can do. Yes,’ he grinned at Tika’s doubting glance. ‘I’ve thought a lot, both of things Nolli’s said and of what I have seen happening on this journey already.’

  ‘How old are you Gan?’

  Gan looked a little disconcerted at the question. ‘In your way of reckoning age, I would be thought very old, but among the People I am not yet deemed middle aged.’ He thought for a while. ‘If I were human born, I would be between thirty and forty Cycles I suppose. Why do you ask?’

  ‘I just wondered. Did you know that Farn might go exploring with Brin in a couple of Cycles time?’

  ‘No.’ Gan was startled. ‘I thought you were soul bonded, had to stay together. Or do you mean to say you will also go wandering with them?’

  ‘From what Fenj and Kija have told me, we will always be linked. Wherever we are – even leagues apart – we will know if the other is hurt or sick or happy or sad. But after the first Cycle or two, the strong link we have now, when we hurt if we are apart, will weaken somewhat. Both Fenj and Kija say that Farn is of the same nature as Brin and will want to roam far and wide.’

  Not sure how upset Tika was by this information, Gan hesitated before saying:

  ‘Farn thinks Brin is the most marvellous Dragon in the world. That has been clear since Brin first joined us.’

  ‘Hmm. I know. It’s just that I can’t imagine not having Farn nearby. I expect I’m just selfish though. But it will not happen so for Mim and Ashta. He is part Dragon now and has been Named Dragon Lord. I think they will never be far apart as I fear Farn and I will be.’

  Gan looked at her helplessly, not knowing how he could offer the smallest crumb of comfort.

  Chapter Three

  After the midday meal a few days later, Motass approached Gan.

  ‘Excuse me Sir, but I think you should speak with my brother.’

  ‘Your brother – Jal? He fought for the Guardian yes?’ Gan frowned for a moment. ‘The healers had to remove his arm did they not? I did enquire, but they told me he was too fevered to be questioned.’

  ‘That’s right Sir, but the fever’s lifted now.’ Motass looked uncomfortable. ‘Sir, he said he were the Guardian’s Chief of Fighters. He asked what’s been happening and I told him most of it. Well Sir, when I said as how the Lady Iska and Lord Bark was dead and all, well he wept like a baby Sir. One of the healers came and sent me off. Said Jal needed rest again. I never seed Jal weep Sir, not for nothing nor no one. But you won’t – you know – have to hexecute him, will you Sir? I don’t think he was willingly here. Not really Sir.’

  ‘He is a prisoner and will be treated as such, but have I had any prisoners executed who prove worthy of my trust Motass?’

  ‘Well Sir, I always feared you might one day do for me Sir.’

  Gan looked horrified. ‘Motass, that was an idle threat to a half wild young boy. You tried to slice through my kneecaps when we first met, if you recall.’

  Motass continued to look worried and Gan sighed.

  ‘I will talk to Jal later today and I will judge him as I have all other prisoners.’

  ‘Thank you Sir.’ Motass hurried off to the lower levels where Baras was still in the process of checking all tunnels and chambers.

  Gan shook his head and was then approached by the chamberlain of the stronghold, who bowed deeply and continuously, until Gan caught his shoulder to force the man to remain upright.

  ‘Yoral, I have explained, several times, that excessive bowing is required by none of us.’ He could feel the man still trying to lean forward. He gave up. ‘What is it then Yoral?’

  ‘Lord, we have scoured all the chambers in the three levels above. Lord, we have scoured them all twice. Except of course the chambers of the Guardian, the previous Guardian that is, Lord.’ Yoral ended, scrupulously accurate as ever.

  ‘Right Yoral. I will inspect them later today.’ Gan groaned inwardly.

  ‘Your instructions Lord?’

  ‘Is the stronghold well stocked or are we running low on any supplies?’

  ‘Officer Trem has obtained fresh cheeses from the Delvers, Lord. The Guardian, the previous Guardian, never stocked much cheese. We will need more flour soon though, Lord. It is near the time when a new load of flour is usually delivered.’

  ‘Where do you get it? Rhaki never traded with Gaharn.’ Gan was surprised.

  ‘From what I have heard from the Fighters who brought any goods in, the flour was from some small farms near the White River. I have never been outside of this stronghold Lord, I apologise that I have no idea where that might be.’

  ‘Did you tell Officer Trem that?’

  Yoral looked stricken. ‘No Lord, it has only just occurred to me.’

  ‘Never mind,’ Gan found himself patting the man’s shoulder, and put his hands behind his back. ‘I will speak to him myself later.’ How many more things to do ‘later’, he wondered. ‘Anything else we need? How about wood for fuel? Where does that come from?’

  ‘Fighters bring wagon loads of logs Lord, every twenty days or so. But we use the black rock for cooking fires and heating the lower areas.’

  ‘Black rock?’

  ‘Yes Lord.’ Yoral began bowing again and Gan restrained himself from yelling at the man to stand still.

  ‘I would like to see what you mean by ‘black rock’ later. Until then, just carry on your usual duties.’

  ‘Yes, at once, Lord.’

  Later, always something to do later which should probably have been done sooner, Gan thought as he strode towards the slope leading to the upper levels. The first three chambers had been allocated to the healers, and less than a dozen wounded men of both Fighters and Guards were there still needing care. A servant was leaving one of the rooms as Gan reached the door. She bobbed a curtsey and held the door open for him.

  A healer looked up from a table close to a narrow slit of a window, on which snowflakes flattened themselves yet again.

  ‘Sir.’ The healer smiled, his face tired, and indicated a chair at the side of the table. Scrolls covered the table and an ink smudge decorated the healer’s cheek.

  ‘All the men are mending. Even Jal and Binek at last.’

  Binek was one of the Guards who had received a relatively minor wound but suffered a severe infection from it.

  The healer flicked a glance at the four beds in the room, only two of which were occupied.

  ‘The other five are in the next chamber as they were fit enough to get a bit noisy. These two still need quiet and rest.’

  ‘Motass suggested his brother Jal was well enough to talk to me.’

  The healer frowned and chewed the end of his pen. ‘Something troubles him indeed. It is not our practise to heal minds without consultation with many healers and the patient themselves. But something in Jal’s mind has slowed his mending.’

  ‘His arm?’

  ‘His arm is clean. There is no inf
ection in him now, but he is greatly weakened and his body is shocked by the loss of that arm even though Jal accepts it.’

  The healer got up to see if Jal was awake while Gan waited where he was. The healer’s voice rose, calling Gan.

  ‘He is awake now and willing to speak to you.’ As he put a chair by the bed for Gan, he added: ‘You’ll see if he tires. Please leave him to rest when he does.’

  Gan sat down and stared at Motass’s brother. He looked a good twenty-five Cycles older than Motass although Gan knew he was barely a dozen years the elder. His right arm had been amputated just above the elbow joint, and the stump was wrapped in clean white bandages. Jal’s face was drawn, dark smudges ringed his eyes but those eyes were steady as he returned Gan’s stare, not bright with fever.

  ‘You are Lord Gan, Motass’s Chief of Guards Sir?’

  Gan nodded. ‘And your little brother will have changed since you last saw him no doubt.’

  ‘I felt sorry for him for a while. Taken as your prisoner, I was told. Then a few Cycles later, the Guardian was in Return, letting it be known he had great rewards to offer good fighting men.’ He grimaced and tried to move himself further up against his pillows. He glanced at Gan, then quickly away.

  ‘The People have power – all of you. But he made me, and some others, believe we were defending him and his northern Realm against all the People in Gaharn. He said you were all jealous of his strength and were evil. He was the one was evil Sir.’

  He reached for a mug of water from the table by his bed with his left hand, and moistened his fever-cracked lips.

  ‘I make no excuses you understand, Sir. I was fool enough to believe him and by the time we found out how he was, it was too late.’

  ‘Too late?’ Gan prompted.

  Jal sighed. ‘You saw the beasts – Cansharsi he called them. Linvaks, Shardi, he did things to them to change them. He bred them with human women – at least he tried to. The women who didn’t kill themselves mostly died before they gave birth anyway.’

  A silence fell, which Gan allowed to grow, sensing that Jal needed to say what he had to in his own time.

  ‘The Master – we had to call him that – he could get inside you and know what frightened you most. Then he could make you do anything he ordered – or he would make you suffer your nightmare for real.’

  He shrugged, wincing as the stump of his arm jerked on the bed covers.

  ‘Anyway. He sent me in charge of a band of Fighters to capture the Lady Iska. He could do things in your mind – as I said. When we were near Gaharn – I only remember getting there, then the Lady was walking along the path with four Guards and we took her.’

  Another silence descended, Gan patiently waiting.

  ‘He – the Master – gave me herbs to hold against the Lady’s face to keep her sleeping, but I was worried Sir. She felt – kindly.’

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t explain but I was very unhappy at what I was doing but afraid of him more. When we got her here he made Bark look after her. Motass said they are both dead. Poor Lady. Poor Bark.’

  He leaned his head back, tears filling his eyes and his face even more drawn and pale.

  ‘Poor Bark?’

  ‘Yes. He – the Master – treated Bark like an idiot, in front of anyone, me, servants. Since I came here, Bark hardly said a word but I found he wasn’t like the Master although he was one of the People. The servants trusted him and talked to him. He didn’t always answer. Stories said the Master damaged his mind. And he looked so sad the last Seasons.’

  Jal yawned. ‘Sorry Sir.’

  Gan rose. ‘You need rest in bucketfuls Jal. We will talk again, but I do not think you need to worry about your future too much. If you choose to go back to the South Lands, you will be free to do so. If you choose to stay here, there is much you could help us with. You have been used to command men, you could do so again perhaps.’

  ‘Thank you Sir. Motass said you were fair.’ Jal mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open.

  Gan left Jal already asleep and nearly fell over Khosa who sat regally outside the door.

  ‘You may lift me,’ she said coolly.

  Gan did so, feeling things were spiralling evermore rapidly out of his control. She crooned as he held her at his shoulder.

  ‘Some of my children will be arriving soon,’ she said. Her eyes were closed as she hummed at him.

  ‘How many children?’

  ‘A few.’

  ‘Why are you up here Khosa? I must inspect all the upper chambers, then I have

  to speak to Trem. I think.’

  The Kephi’s eyes opened for a moment, then closed languidly again. ‘You sound flustered Gan. I never get flustered. Too tiring.’

  A servant came along the corridor and Gan unceremoniously dumped Khosa into the man’s arms.

  ‘I think the Kephi should check the storerooms for squeakers. Let her earn her keep.’

  The man bowed, his hands gentle over the Kephi, but as he walked on down to the lower levels, an enraged furry face glared back at Gan. Gan laughed. He suspected that ‘earning her keep’ would be considered a dreadful insult to Kephi majesty.

  The rooms were, as Yoral had promised, all spotlessly cleaned. Gan noticed the air of unpleasantness that had seemed to pervade the stronghold, especially the upper levels, was dissipating. It was still most noticeable in the corridor leading to Rhaki’s private quarters though. Gan went back down in search of Trem, thinking how they might seal off that part of the stronghold and try to ignore its existence. At least, until he could think of another solution later. Later. He groaned.

  After the evening meal had become the time for discussion of what had been done in the stronghold during that day, and for deciding the order of what needed doing next. But that evening, the talk at the leaders’ end of the table revolved around Gaharn. One of the Snow Dragons had arrived with a message relayed by a Merig. The Gathering of Seniors was in uproar. Emla was staying with Discipline Senior Ryla but hoped to travel back to her House within days, taking Ryla with her.

  Discipline Senior Fayet was belittling all the events that had taken place in the north and fostering a general feeling of scorn and derision towards Emla’s ‘excitability’.

  ‘How far did the poor Merig have to fly?’ asked Dessi.

  ‘I think not far.’ It was Mim who replied. ‘Ashta says the Merigs live only in small family groups. So one family might live here, for instance, and another family, three or four leagues away, the next another few leagues, and so on. Messages could pass with great speed from group to group.’

  ‘But Merigs don’t live in the snow though Mim, so the last in the line would still have to fly quite a lot further, and through the snow and wind.’

  Mim grinned at her. ‘We’ll have to ask the next Merig we see.’

  ‘Merigs have their uses, but they are ill mannered.’ Khosa announced from Lorak’s lap. She had studiously ignored Gan while lavishing affection pointedly on everyone else.

  ‘Did the Merigs say when the Lady would send a relief band of Guards?’ Trem asked.

  ‘Oh yes. Within three days they should be here,’ replied Nolli. Toothless gums shone in the bright lamplight as she smiled. ‘Some of Khosa’s children will be with them.’

  Gan winced.

  It was early morning many leagues across the Wilderness, in the cluster of gigantic extinct volcanoes which the Vagrantians had made their refuge and their home. Herdsmen checked their animals, as it was nearing the birthing Season. Farmers and gardeners were tidying the detritus of the last of the snow, and checking their groves of fruit trees. Although so early in the Cycle, the sun felt warm again at last and people found every excuse to get outside.

  Elyssa paused to watch a group of children skid shrieking across the black paved road in pursuit of a ball, and smiled, turning her face up to the welcome sunlight. She could stand so all day, she thought, but she began to walk briskly on towards the central market place. The shops facing the circul
ar space were open for business. A few shopkeepers had even hopefully pulled the striped awnings out to shade their goods.

  Elyssa nodded to several people and called replies to comments on the lovely morning as she crossed the market place. She turned down a narrow lane lined with shops selling the smaller crafted goods: jewellery, fine cloth, wooden and stone carvings, and emerged at the gateway to the Corvida. The gates of finely wrought iron were, as always, wide open, and as Elyssa walked across the two chains width of gardens to the building, she noticed tiny flowers bursting up at the edges of the paths.

  A few days warmth and it seemed everything wanted to reach out to the sun. With a last glance at the blue sky and the flowering forecourt, Elyssa turned into the Corvida. She took the stairs two at a time and stopped at the second landing to get her breath. She took the next two flights at a steadier pace and arrived at Alya’s door, flushed but at least not puffing.

  She tapped the open door but receiving no reply, poked her head into the room. The big window at the end of the room was open and Elyssa saw that Alya was out on the balcony, bent over some plant tubs. Alya looked up as Elyssa stepped onto the balcony.

  ‘Isn’t it a wonderful day?’ she smiled. She waggled earth-covered fingers at Elyssa. ‘Let me wash and you can ready some tea. I couldn’t resist putting some of the plants back outside.’

  Elyssa was standing by the balcony door sipping her mug of tea when Alya returned and sat at the table. Reluctantly Elyssa turned her back on the window and dropped into a chair opposite Alya.

  ‘It was another long night last night,’ Alya said, holding her mug so that the fragrant steam drifted over her face. ‘No one seems prepared to offer any solutions let alone take any decisions.’ She pushed some of the papers to the side of the table. ‘I’ve been through history after journal after history, and the first recorders had no ideas which would help us now. Temno is firm only to ‘maintain our isolation’, as he puts it.’ She snorted. ‘In other words, pretend nothing’s happened and hope nothing worse does – in his lifetime anyway.’