The Broken World Book One - Children of Another God (17 page)

Jashon snarled,
"They're damned worthless yellow -" He broke off as Tranton elbowed
him.

Cusak paced
around, glaring at the Mujar, who concentrated on his meal. "Why
only three days?"

Chanter glanced
up. "It's enough."

"What do you
mean, enough? What if the Hashon Jahar are still there after three
days?"

The Mujar
shrugged and spooned his porridge.

Cusak reddened
and stepped towards him. "Answer me, damn you!"

Talsy stood up
and blocked his way. "He granted you three days, and he means that
it's enough to repay you for freeing him. No Mujar will be trapped
by a limitless promise of aid, it takes away their freedom." She
remembered, with deep shame, her attempt to make him stay with her
indefinitely, which in turn reminded her of the finite nature of
the clan bond. How would she react, on the day he broke it and
left? Would she also be angry and curse him?

Cusak snarled,
"And then the Black Riders will attack us anyway."

"If they're
still waiting."

"You'll die
too. Doesn't he look after his clan?"

Talsy opened
her mouth to answer, but Chanter said, "No harm will come to my
clan."

The governor's
eyes narrowed. "If your clan is still in the city, you'll have to
stay, won't you?"

The Mujar
nodded. "But only she will be safe."

Talsy's heart
swelled, and tears burnt her eyes. It did not matter that it was
the clan bond that made him take care of her, or that his feelings
towards her were a mystery and likely to remain so. If, indeed, he
had any. Her affection for him could not be denied, and his loyalty
to their bond filled her with joy.

Cusak looked
incensed, and Jashon burst out, "You bastard! You -" He broke off
as the governor held up a hand.

Cusak spoke
calmly. "Mujar, what if I offered you clan bond?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I have a
clan."

"Her?" Cusak
gestured at Talsy. "I can offer you much more. Better comforts,
more food, anything you want."

"No." The Mujar
raised an impassive gaze.

Cusak
approached Chanter, who rose to his feet and backed away.

Talsy stepped
between them again. "Leave him alone. If you harm him now, you
break the Wish and he'll leave you with no protection at all." She
had no idea if this was true, but it sounded good, and stopped
Cusak in his tracks.

The governor
glared at her, his hands clenched. From his thunderous expression,
she knew that the only thing he found more irritating than an
obstinate Mujar was an uppity slip of a Trueman girl. Unable to
threaten Chanter, he focussed his anger on her.

"You're an
insolent little bitch."

Tranton plucked
at the governor's sleeve, distracting him. "Your Grace, how long
before the Hashon Jahar get here?"

Cusak swung
away, scowling. "The last scout said a couple of hours, no
more."

Talsy returned
to her meal, and Chanter sat beside her, shooting the governor
guarded looks. Cusak leant on the railing and glared at the distant
forests beyond the cultivated fields around the city. When he
finished his food, Chanter rose and went to lean against the rail
on the far side of the tower. Talsy joined him, and he glanced at
her.

"They should
not stay here."

"Why? Oh." She
remembered her reaction to her first experience of a manifestation
of the Powers. The thought of these cruel, proud men cowering in
terror at Chanter's power appealed to her, and she was tempted to
say nothing. Chanter frowned, and she sighed, rolled her eyes and
approached Tranton. Not caring whether they took her advice or not,
she informed the hirsute man of Chanter's warning, leaving him to
persuade the governor, if he could. Evidently he was unsuccessful,
for Cusak stayed, though a few of the advisors left.

The wait seemed
much longer than two hours. Tension stretched the time, the
atmosphere thick with hatred and resentment. Cusak glared at
Chanter, and Talsy glowered back, irked by his lack of gratitude on
top of everything else. Jashon's thin face was fixed in a permanent
scowl, while Tranton studied the scene with a supercilious smile.
Chanter watched the wheeling crows, apparently disinterested in the
Truemen and their ill-concealed emotions. His nostrils flared as
the breeze lifted the hair from his neck.

The water used
in his healing had washed off the blood, and no sign of his ordeal
remained. Once again, he reminded Talsy of a wild creature gazing
out of a cage, longing for the freedom of the wide open spaces that
beckoned from without. Granting her Wish had trapped Chanter, but
in three days he would be free again. She was certain that he would
waste no time quitting this horrible city and the company of its
hateful inhabitants. The Truemen's rancour galled her, and their
sullen silence ate at her nerves.

When Cusak
stiffened, it was almost a relief. He pointed across the fields.
"There they are!"

Everyone stared
at the distant trees, and the black line that obscured their base,
like deep shadow. Too deep. The blackness seeped from the forest
like darkness at dusk. Talsy's heart pounded and her blood turned
cold. Just the sight of them, even from this distance, was
unnerving. The Black Riders. Hashon Jahar. Riders of Death. They
had many names, and stories of their utter ruthlessness preceded
them, carried by those who fled the carnage on swift steeds to warn
others.

Few escaped the
Hashon Jahar, and those who did survived only a short time before
the Black Death caught up with them. Some said that they were
invincible, that they killed only for the pleasure of it and did
not bother to loot the towns they vanquished. Others told stories
of village headmen who went out to meet the Black Riders and offer
their surrender, but never returned, and their villages were
destroyed. No one knew exactly who they were, but most thought they
were a savage tribe from the south, intent on conquering the entire
continent.

Everything
about them was black, from their steeds to their skins. No city,
fortress, town or village had withstood their attack. No one had
ever survived, except... She looked at Chanter.

"You've seen
them before, when they wiped out your clan."

He nodded.

"Did they know
you were Mujar?"

"Yes."

"Who are they?
Why didn't they throw you in a Pit?"

Chanter's eyes
narrowed as he gazed at the distant Riders, and he frowned, clearly
considering her questions. "It would be better to ask what they
are, not who."

"You mean
they're not Truemen?" Talsy's mind raced. "If they're not Truemen,
what are they? Are they of this world?"

He glanced at
her. "Yes."

"Why do they
slaughter us? What do they want?"

"I can't tell
you that."

Talsy watched
the approaching blackness. The leaders left the trees and moved
towards the city in a column that stretched all the way back to the
forest. They moved at a gallop, the speed of their advance making
the column look like a black snake gliding towards the city. Shiny
armour and jet blades flashed in the sunlight; tall lances stitched
the landscape like black thread on green silk.

The thunder of
their horses' hooves came faintly on the wind, bringing with it
deep dread. In the city below, a hush fell as people listened to
death's approach. Many looked up at the tower where the Mujar
stood, one man against an army. Talsy glanced at him again. His
eyes looked like slits of sky. A thought struck her like a
thunderbolt out of the blue, and the question trotted off her
tongue unbidden.

"Do they
die?"

He hesitated,
perhaps surprised by her question, and closed his eyes as if loath
to answer it. When he opened them again, he gazed at the
approaching menace. "No."

"They're
immortal, like you!"

"No." He turned
to face her. "Not like me."

"How many
creatures of this world are immortal?"

"They're not
immortal."

"You just
said..."

He shook his
head, frowning. "I can't tell you any more."

The Black
Riders crossed the cultivated land around the city, the rumble of
their hooves growing louder. The horses continued at a full gallop,
apparently tireless. The city's populace stood still, riveted by
the approaching thunder. Talsy wondered how close Chanter was going
to let them get. Cusak turned to glare at the Mujar.

"It's about
time you did something." He failed to control the tremor in his
voice.

Chanter watched
the Hashon Jahar, who poured across the ploughed fields, eerily
silent but for the thunder of hooves. Talsy could make out
individual riders now, clad in black armour, astride huge steeds,
armoured like their riders. Why did they need armour? She glanced
at Cusak, whose lips where white as he stared at the approaching
army. Behind her, Tranton's wheeze grew louder.

The Black
Riders rode four abreast, and the four behind the leaders swerved
out to ride beside them, then the next four moved to the other
side. They spread out with finely tuned precision, slowing to allow
the ones behind to move to the sides, forming a long line. The
horses tossed their heads and pranced, manes flying in the wind.
Their pace slowed further as those at the back of the column raced
to take up their positions at the ends of the line. Talsy could not
count them. There seemed to be thousands, and more still emerged
from the forest.

They stopped,
and some of the horses reared, fighting their bits. The thunder
faded to a muted rumble as only the hooves of those who still raced
to join the line broke the stillness. The line stretched for miles,
and the last Riders formed up behind the first until they stood in
rows four deep. As they halted, a deathly silence fell, so intense
that it beat at Talsy's ears. A crow’s harsh, ominous caw broke it.
She looked at the governor, noting the film of sweat on his upper
lip. The Hashon Jahar's mounts settled, becoming still. Thousands
of lances lowered in unison, as if a silent signal had been sent.
The destriers leapt into a gallop, the thunder loud after the prior
stillness.

Chanter
straightened, frowning, and she braced herself. The manifestation
of Crayash filled the air with illusory fire. Heat scorched her
skin and flames blinded her. It seemed as if Hell had engulfed her
in its fiery horror, and she closed her eyes, holding her breath.
The manifestation vanished, leaving the governor and his party
yelling and beating at their clothes. Tranton alone remained calm,
and he tried to soothe the irate and embarrassed Cusak.

Despite her
wish to witness their humiliation, Talsy's attention was riveted to
what was happening beyond the city walls. Chanter raised an arm and
pointed towards the river bank on the left. Blue fire erupted from
the earth with roar, rising more than twenty feet high. He moved
his arm around in an arc, and the fire followed. A wall of flame
shot up where he pointed, drawing a ring around the city some fifty
feet from the wall. He turned, the fire following, until his finger
pointed at the river bank to the right of the city, completing the
barrier.

The Hashon
Jahar slowed, their mounts rearing and plunging as they were forced
to halt mere yards from the flames. The Riders raised their lances
in unison, set them upright in their stirrups and became still. It
seemed as if an army of statues faced the city, and Cusak stared at
them with a triumphant, feral grin.

"We did it!" he
cried. "We stopped the Hashon Jahar!"

Talsy frowned
at him, but Chanter smiled as if privy to some secret joke.
Lookouts shouted the news from their vantages all along the city
wall, and a great cheer went up from the streets below. It spread
into the city, swelling into a clamour as people danced and clapped
in wild celebration. Cusak pounded Jashon on the back as if it was
all his doing. Jashon reddened and smiled, ducking his head in a
parody of humble acceptance. Talsy turned away from their orgy of
self-congratulation with a snort and leant against the railing
beside Chanter. He gazed at the Riders, his expression unreadable.
She slipped her hand into his, and he cast her a smile, his eyes
gentle.

Below them, the
crowd danced, and pipes and drums played merry tunes. A queue
formed to mount the steps onto the battlements and stare at the
fiery barrier that guarded the city. Beyond it, the Hashon Jahar
waited. Talsy studied Chanter, expecting to find some sign of
strain from the effort of holding the fire with his will, but he
appeared relaxed, as if this great miracle cost him nothing at all.
The governor clumped down the stairs with his bevy of followers,
and cheering from below told her that he had left the tower to bask
in the crowd's accolades. Talsy was glad to be left alone with
Chanter again, and gazed at the leaping flames.

"How do you do
it?"

Chanter glanced
at her. "The Crayash?" He shrugged. "Willpower."

"Willpower?"
She shook her head. "It can't be that simple."

"It is." He
smiled and gestured at the fire wall. "Every element of this world
is a part of me, as they're a part of everything, though some more
than others. Just as the Crayash within me warms me and is part of
me, so the fire in the world around me is also part of me."

"You mean you
control the world as though it was part of you?"

"It
is
a part
of me. Every particle of this world has a twin within me, formed at
the same time. When the stars came together and started to burn,
this world was formed from dust and gas. I'm made of that same dust
and gas, so controlling the rest of it is just an act of
will."

"I'm also made
of the same elements," she said, "yet I can't control any of it,
not even my body, beyond a certain point."