In the Earth Abides the Flame (21 page)

'To keep them hidden, to keep them unknown. That's why they need your help.'

'Foilzie, my love,' the man said tenderly, squeezing her arm, 'both you and Ferdie, when he was alive, gave us so much. Without aid from you, and a few others like you, we could not have survived. How could we refuse you in your time of need?'

The old woman smiled widely. 'I know you believe you owe Ferdie and I a debt,' she said, 'but don't do this because you want to pay me back, do it because you're convinced it's the right thing to do.'

'I'm not so sure about that,' he said, running his hand over his shiny bald pate. 'Foilzie, you are so trusting, it's easy for you to forget how important our secrecy is to us. Any betrayal will cost many lives.'

'These ones have taken so many risks on your behalf, on everyone's behalf, even though they don't know you exist. It's time someone took a risk for them.'

The man nodded. Foilzie was a simple, direct woman. One could always hear truth in her words, which was why she was beloved of Escaigne, of all the factions in that entangled place. Taking in the northerners was the right thing to do, even if ultimately they suffered for it. Still, he wasn't prepared to throw lives away carelessly. Someone would be assigned the task of watching these refugees.

The shed served as a safe hiding place for the Company that afternoon, where Leith was able to rest and recover fully from the trials of the previous forty-eight hours. According to Foilzie, the Instruian Guard still swarmed through the streets of the city, driving honest citizens into their homes with the fervour of their questioning. It remained unsafe to move until well after dark.

'But where are we to be taken?' Kurr's question was asked on behalf of them all.

'To Escaigne,' said the bald man. 'To safety.'

'How far do we have to travel? How do we get past the guards on the streets and the watch they have placed on the bridges?' asked Indrett. Uncomfortable with the presence of the bald man, who kept his name to himself, the Company plied him with questions.

'We of Escaigne are skilled in avoiding the guards.'

'Where is Escaigne? It is not one of the Sixteen Kingdoms of the Falthan Council'

Phemanderac had studied the maps, travelling extensively through central Faltha in the previous year, encountering plenty of talk about this mysterious place, yet no one had been able to supply him with a satisfactory answer.

'No, it is not one of the Sixteen, yet it is Falthan territory; a sovereign state, yet without a king.'

'We heard something of Escaigne in the market, yet everyone who told us of Escaigne had a different idea of what and where it was.' Indrett shook her head.

'I can make nothing of this riddle,' Kurr said.

'Good. There's a reason why we want the location of our state to remain a secret. Foilzie has kept you ignorant of Instruian history,' said the bald man. 'Nevertheless, I will seek to remedy this as we journey there. Shall we go?'

In answer the Company stood and made ready. The Haufuth was heard to mutter: 'Whoever heard of a journey made on an empty stomach?'

Out into the deserted side streets they ventured. After a tense ten minutes or so they came to a part of the city Leith recognised: they were perhaps two hundred yards from the market when their guide stopped, produced a number of cloths and gave one to each of them. 'Blindfolds,'

he said. 'You must wear them on the journey. Escaigne is a secret.'

Farr muttered darkly, but allowed himself to be blindfolded. Likely he realised that they had no choice; their lives depended on this man.

Leith tried to work out where they were being taken, but after a few turns he became thoroughly confused. For a time they walked on the cobbles of a road, then on the soft sand of an alleyway. At one point their guide whispered: 'Down!' and they sank to their haunches, holding their breath, but Leith could neither see nor hear whatever it was they were hiding from. More sand followed, then they stopped while the man knocked, and listened in the silence for an answer which must have come because the man whispered something, then a door opened and the refugees were hurried inside a building.

'Your weapons may not be taken into Escaigne,' said their guide.

'Then I will not be taken there,' Farr responded harshly. 'I go nowhere without my sword and my staff.'

'So be it. Perhaps I could save time by summoning the Instruian Guard now? I don't think you grasp the situation you are in. You northerners either find sanctuary in Escaigne or face the wrath of Instruere. Rest assured you will go to your death in The Pinion with neither your sword nor your staff.'

'Don't be a fool,' Kurr said to the Vinkullen man. 'Lay them down. We are not in a position of strength.'

'I have never yet been disarmed by an enemy,' Farr insisted stubbornly.

'Then it is fortunate that we are not your enemy,' said their guide, 'for you are about to be disarmed.'

'Perhaps we could debate this further when we reach your land,' said Farr.

'You may take your blindfolds off after your weapons are surrendered,' their guide said in reply. 'We are at the gates of Escaigne now.'

'Already?' Kurr said, surprised. 'But surely we have not yet left Instruere!'

'Lay down your arms, then take off your blindfolds,' their guide repeated patiently. 'Come and find rest in Escaigne.'

Around Leith came the clatter of weapons falling to the floor. With little reluctance he shed the short, stubby blade he had acquired in The Pinion. His fingers loosened the knot holding the cloth across his eyes, and he blinked a few times. It was every bit as dark as when he had been blindfolded.

Along a pitch-black passage they went, following the echoing sound of their guide's footsteps.

'Who lives here?' said the old farmer suddenly. The words came as a shock, almost a violation of the close dark silence. Leith drew away from Kurr.

Unperturbed, their guide responded by throwing open a door at the end of the passage.

Sudden light burst in upon the Company, and for a moment they could not make out details of the room they were in. Leith blinked, and blinked again. The windowless, dimly lit space was packed with people.

'Welcome to Escaigne!' cried their guide.

'But this is still Instruere!' said Kurr, clearly puzzled and a little angry. 'How are we any better off here?'

One or two of the people in the room had risen to their feet. The bald man motioned for them to sit. 'They do not know,' he said. 'Forgive them. They will speak better when they understand better.'

He turned to Kurr. 'This is not Instruere. Scattered throughout the city are small enclaves like this one, never more than two or three rooms, hidden from our enemies. This is Escaigne; they are all Escaigne, we are Escaigne. The Hidden Ones, entangled with the city, but separate from it.'

'Come ye out from her, and be ye separate,' said one of the people, a young man.

'Conform not to her ways, nor be tainted with her evil. In this way shall ye set her free,'

intoned the woman beside him.

'Ye are Escaigne, set apart for purity,' said a third, an older voice from the far side of the room.

'Who lives here?' The bald man repeated Kurr's question. 'Those persecuted and dispossessed by the rulers of the city. No one knows who the first one was, nor why he founded our place of refuge, yet here it is. For the best part of the last decade people have found their way to Escaigne. A man here, a woman there, a family. Gradually the numbers mounted. At first they saw their role as watchers, observing the increasing depravity of the city-dwellers, and they continued to risk visits to the city, but as the regime grew more vicious and the Council of Faltha seized control over Instruere, the people of Escaigne no longer took the risk. Many here have not slept a night in Instruere for a long time. One day soon there will be more of us who were born in Escaigne than those who have fled the city.'

'Does the Council know of your existence?' Kurr asked.

'They know, indeed they know,' said their guide. 'We make sure they know. We want all Instruians to know there is a place of resistance, a place they can find sanctuary, a place from which we will emerge one day to take back what is rightfully ours. They know of Escaigne, and the Council fear us, but they do not know where we are. They do not suspect we are in their midst.'

'How long will we be your guests?' Perdu asked.

'Those few of us who return to the city will keep our ears open. When your names are no longer mentioned, it will be safe for you to leave. Until then, your choice is darkness or death, I'm afraid.'

'Don't you have sunlight in Escaigne? Don't you go out and watch the sunrise?' Perdu sounded nervous. This place must seem the complete negation of his beloved vidda.

'Very few of us come and go between Instruere and Escaigne. As for watching the sunrise, it can be arranged for you if you wish, but would be very risky. The Guard changes at sunrise.'

Leith spoke up quickly, conscious of Perdu's discomfort. 'Please arrange it,' he said. 'I find the dark quite unnerving.'

Hearing these words, Phemanderac thought: the boy matures, the finger grows longer.

A wide, well-lit (though windowless, like all the rooms of Escaigne) antechamber was found for the Company, and once they were all seated, ordinary-looking people brought them food and drink. The tension that had gripped the northerners this long day oozed slowly away, and they began to relax. 'Something puzzles me,' the Haufuth said, in between his endeavours to stuff a haunch of roast lamb down his throat. 'Where does such excellent food and drink come from? Surely you cannot grow food in the darkness?'

'Most unlike the Haufuth, to concern himself with such things,' the Hermit said quietly.

'I'm surprised we haven't heard something before now,' Kurr added. 'Greatest risk he ever took, in my opinion, travelling from Bandits' Cave with an ascetic'

'I'm afraid I learned more from him than he from me,' said the Hermit.

'Oh dear,' Kurr said sadly. 'Our village tailor is fully employed meeting the needs of our Haufuth. I'm afraid we can offer you no help.'

'Ignore them,' the Haufuth advised their host. 'They are merely jealous, not being as substantial personages as I. But I would like an answer to my question, if it please you. At least if you talk, they will be forced to remain silent.'

'There is much about The Cache, as we call the food stores of Escaigne, that we keep secret,'

the bald man replied carefully. 'Piece it together yourself. If, as you say, we cannot grow food here, we must get it from Instruere. We have access to the area called the Docks, where some of our sympathisers have their employment. We have an almost inexhaustible supply of wealth, as in Escaigne we hold all things in common. Have I supplied you with enough information?'

A number of further questions were asked, then their guide apologised and excused himself, leaving the Company alone in the room. The meal was finished in silence, each member occupied with his or her own thoughts ...

Could it have been real? Had the dream beside the fire in Foilzie's tenement been real? Leith had been puzzling away at it all day. Such a vivid dream, he remembered every bit of it with a clarity he seldom experienced in waking life. The colours had been brighter than real life, the sounds rounder somehow, fuller, nothing like any other dream he had ever experienced. And that was the problem. The whole thing made him suspicious, made him feel he'd made it up.

What do I want most of all? He could answer that honestly. To be appreciated, to be loved, without any threat that those who loved him would abandon him, however noble the cause, and spend two years chasing ghosts in the land of their enemies. Without the object of his love casting that love back in his face by telling all her friends and laughing at him. Without always being better than him, always being right, always having the last word, like a treatise on morality. The dream-fire had offered him the kind of love he wanted. It was too perfect. It had to be an invention of his own mind.

But oh, if only it was true . . .

The air in the chamber was perfectly still. Enraptured by the peace of the moment, Phemanderac untied his well-travelled harp from his knapsack and played a few liquid notes, soft to the edge of hearing. In the confined space the sound seemed to flavour the air, sweetening it with something akin to joy; they took in lungfuls of it.

No one moved, no one dared speak, as all sat spellbound under the glorious weight.

Phemanderac's hand fell to his side. The silence, the absolute Escaignian silence, cocooned them. They were held in stasis.

'I had a dream last night,' Stella said suddenly, and everybody's hearts skipped a beat. 'Can anyone tell me ...' Her voice tailed off as every face turned towards her, and embarrassment enflamed her neck and face.

'You had a dream?' Leith cried. 'I also—'

'Hush!' Phemanderac said, steel in his voice. 'If anyone has dreamed, let her keep it to herself.'

Leith pursed his lips. Did others also hear the voice last night? Do they hear it tonight? He did not ask the question: the moment was still too new, too precious to unwrap. Perhaps, perhaps

...

For many long minutes nothing was said, but for Leith at least the moments were full of inexpressible longing.

'Perhaps we might debate the direction of our path from here,' the Hermit said eventually.

When no one responded, he continued: 'No matter our opinion on the identity of the Right Hand, we must decide whether the Company has any further task to achieve. Do we seek out the Jugom Ark, like our friend Phemanderac suggests? Or do we consider we've done all we can? I must confess I'm sensing a calling to serve the people of Instruere, people like those forced to hide in places like this.'

This stirred the old farmer Kurr into life. 'Any further task to achieve? You may have some sense of success, my friend the Hermit, but I don't. Perhaps you could supply me with a list of the tasks we have successfully completed?'

'I note the presence of two former Bhrudwan captives amongst us,' came the reply with just a touch of asperity.