The Demon Horsemen (16 page)

‘Hunter?’ Chase replied, now recognising the young man’s features behind the red beard and long hair.

‘I thought you were dead,’ Hunter said.

Chase smirked. ‘Apparently not.’

‘And you are Swift,’ said Trapper to the assassin. She nodded curtly.

‘Then we welcome friends!’ declared a third man, a tall individual with visibly scarred forehead and cheeks.

Trapper bowed his head and said quietly, ‘Permit me to introduce King Inheritor.’

S
cripture did not emerge from his study for the rest of the cycle. His meals were delivered to his door and the empty bowls removed from the doorstep by an acolyte. He refused visitors. One evening, an acolyte reported to Word that he’d seen a dull blue light briefly emanating from beneath the door to Scripture’s chamber. The news became a topic for discussion among the Seers, but when nothing further was observed after several days they gave up imploring him to come out and went back to their daily routines.

Law returned to the island to oversee the stockpiling of euphoria and the shipping of supplies through the new portal. Without Prayer’s companionship, Creator was glad to keep busy conducting experiments with the help of his acolyte team. He shifted his focus from the airbirds, now under construction in the factories, to the star-reacher technology that had been long overlooked since Seer Reason’s experiments. Later, he would coordinate the acolytes responsible for the distribution of euphoria throughout the city and the daily prayers.

Word focussed his attention on recording the events that had taken place in recent weeks, during his time acting as the diplomat between the Seers and King
Shadow, and training three acolytes he deemed were ready to become Seers. Prayer’s unexpected ascension into Paradise had opened the door for the graduation of the new Seers and, in Scripture’s enforced absence, Word had taken on the responsibility for preparing them. One, the acolyte Hope who had flown the first airbird, was taking the name of Newday. But even when Word slid a message under Scripture’s door to announce the date for the official investiture of the new Seers, Scripture remained silent.

The Seers met regularly to practise communicating by mindspeak, the enlightenment enabling them to send ideas as images over short distances. Creator coordinated the weekly sessions, and they quickly learned to combine as a group to send an image across a larger distance to a single receiver. They travelled via the portal to the Fallen Star Islands and practised the same skill there, discovering that the island vastly increased their individual range and ability to use mindspeak.

‘
The island is a Conduit
,’ Word wrote in his records. ‘
When we are there, our Blessing is increased fivefold. The island, with its crops of euphoria and its conductive qualities, is a veritable gift from Jarudha to hasten the arrival of the Last Days
.’

Yet, for all his fervour, Word was haunted by the images that Prayer had projected after passing through the island portal into the bleak world beyond. The desolate landscape, the dark corridor, the blue light, and the final image of the Demon Horseman—for who else could it be?—should have been inspirational images but they made him uneasy. That Scripture had retreated so quickly to his chamber afterwards, and the others never mentioned the incident, made him even more uncertain. When he wrote in his record,
We have witnessed a terrible miracle
, he was struggling with
Prayer’s fate, his own faith no longer the rock of his being. A few days later he amended the record to read,
We have witnessed Jarudha’s wrath
.

He called his brethren together, in the absence of His Eminence, and invested Hope and two older acolytes into their new rank, ending the half-day ritual with the simple statement, ‘I present to you Jarudha’s newest servants and your colleagues, Seer Pelican, Seer Moon and Seer Newday.’ The Seers greeted their new colleagues with a communal signing of the holy Jarudhan circle, and so their ranks were expanded. Prayer’s vacancy was filled, but Word’s discomfort did not subside.

Word was visiting Creator with the three new Seers in tow when Law burst into the chamber. ‘You have to come quickly!’ he cried. ‘The Ranu have landed on our island! They’re invading!’

Although shocked, Word quickly composed himself, ordered Creator to alert their colleagues, and followed Law into the main prayer hall where the portal link to the Fallen Star Islands glowed. Pelican, Moon and Newday accompanied them.

‘What happened?’ Word asked.

Law quickly explained. ‘A second Ranu metal ship appeared in the entrance to the harbour overnight, one with a tall thin mast. I thought it was an ill omen, and when a fleet of dragon eggs lifted from the deck of the ship, landed on our shore and Ranu soldiers disembarked, I left the temple through the portal.’

‘Did the soldiers see you?’

‘No,’ Law said. ‘And I closed the portal after me.’

Word smiled grimly. ‘You did the right thing,’ he told Law. ‘The Ranu might not know about portals, but we cannot risk giving them easy access to us.’

‘So what do we do now?’ Law asked.

‘First we find out what the Ranu are up to.’ Word turned to Newday. ‘Bring everyone down here and make sure they all have at least two doses of enlightenment. We have to make a new portal to the island, one that opens in the cave, and then we have to recreate one in the cave to return here. We’ll find out what the Ranu are intending to do with our islands.’

Surrounded by an entourage of soldiers in white uniforms, A Ahmud Ki strolled triumphantly along the settlement’s main street, savouring his clever ploy to capture the heart of the Kerwyn drug trade. He noted that many of the buildings in the settlement were new, suggesting that the enterprise had recently been invigorated for some reason. He stopped outside the Jarudhan temple and gestured for the soldiers to bring an acolyte to him. When a shaved youth was presented, A Ahmud Ki asked in Kerwyn, ‘What’s your name?’

Eyes averted, the acolyte answered, ‘Lightning.’

A Ahmud Ki nodded and smiled. ‘A strong name.’ Noting the acolyte’s deferential attitude, he said, ‘Our Ranu republic is a democracy. All men have equal rights. You don’t have to look away just because I hold a position of power.’ When the acolyte didn’t respond, A Ahmud Ki added, ‘Please look at me.’

The youth raised his brown eyes and stared at the tall, lithe man in his elegant white uniform. He was immediately mesmerised by the president’s handsome facial features and grey eyes.

‘Much better,’ said A Ahmud Ki. ‘I am President Ki. Have you heard of me?’ The acolyte nodded. ‘Good. So who manages this settlement? Who is in charge?’

‘Seer Law,’ Lightning replied.

‘And where will I find him?’

‘He is normally in the temple.’

‘Then will you be so kind as to ask him to come out and meet me?’

‘Yes,’ the acolyte said. He made his way through the soldiers to the temple door, where he made the sign of the circle before entering. He reappeared and approached A Ahmud Ki apologetically. ‘Seer Law is not inside.’

‘Where else might he be?’

Lightning shrugged. ‘It is almost time for the midday prayer. Seer Law leads it in the temple. He should be here.’

A Ahmud Ki put a hand on the acolyte’s shoulder. ‘Then we will wait for him in the temple together,’ he said, and he led Lightning inside, his bodyguards filing in behind them.

Standing in the cave mouth, Word lifted a farseer device and peered through the tube at the settlement. A host of Ranu soldiers in their conspicuous white uniforms congregated outside the temple and three Ranu dreadnoughts sat at anchor in the harbour. No one else moved in the streets, or along the paths to the euphoria plantations.

‘What do we do?’ Law whispered.

Word lowered the farseer. ‘The Ranu are clearly not just visiting,’ he said quietly. ‘Someone will have to talk to them to discern their intentions.’ He looked at Law.

‘You want me to go down there?’

‘I imagine they would be expecting you,’ Word replied.

Law met Word’s calm gaze, his eyes revealing his fear. ‘If you think that would be best,’ he said reluctantly.

‘We need to know,’ Word said. ‘Take a dose of enlightenment and I will listen through your mind and be with you.’ A sharp memory of Prayer’s last
experience flashed into his thoughts, but he suppressed it. He wondered if Law had the same doubt. ‘If you need us, we will come down.’

Law paused, then nodded. ‘I’ll find out what they want.’

‘Jarudha’s hand protect you,’ Word offered and made the holy sign. ‘Go by a circuitous route. We don’t want the Ranu to know which direction you’ve come from. We’ll have a portal ready for when you return.’

Law smiled grimly and headed out of the cave’s protection.

A Ahmud Ki held up the phial of purple powder to study it in the daylight streaming through the temple window. ‘This is the drug your people take?’ he asked.

‘It is Jarudha’s gift to them,’ the acolyte replied, reciting the mantra he’d learned from Law. ‘It lets them relax after a long working day and brings them closer to the eternal bliss they will receive in Paradise.’

A Ahmud Ki nodded and lowered the phial. ‘You mix it with water?’

‘Some do. Most prefer to mix it with alcohol for a better effect,’ Lightning explained. ‘Although alcohol is not allowed any more.’

A Ahmud Ki raised an eyebrow at Lightning’s final comment. He passed the phial to a soldier, saying, ‘Keep it safe for me,’ then turned his attention to a large book on a rostrum at the front of the temple. He noted its title—
The Word
—then turned to the first page and began to read.

Blessed is he who reads the word of Jarudha, for he will be given the key to eternal life in Paradise. Blessed is he who sees Jarudha’s promise and light, for he will understand that this world is an illusion and the way of rude men a path to the destruction of the soul. Know that this is the Word and the way of Jarudha and he
who follows and believes what is written here will know a joy and peace everlasting.

‘President?’ A Ahmud Ki looked up at a soldier who was indicating the temple entrance where a grey-haired Seer stood in a blue robe. ‘This man is the priest of the island,’ the soldier announced. ‘His name is Law.’

‘It’s quite simple,’ A Ahmud Ki said. ‘These islands are now Ranu land. We’ll give your ships free passage to transport your people safely back to Port of Joy.’

‘But these islands are sacred,’ Law argued.

‘My people understand the importance of the drug plantations and trade,’ A Ahmud Ki said with a faint smile. ‘I know how sacred they are.’

Law glared at the Ranu president, but knew instinctively that there was no negotiating with this powerful man. ‘I will convey the terms to the king,’ he said.

‘The terms are already being delivered to King Shadow by my ambassadors,’ A Ahmud Ki informed him, ‘so you should begin the evacuation of your people. I expect the islands to be entirely in Ranu hands within five days.’ The president stood. ‘I am heading back to Kala. If there are any other matters that arise in the next five days, my captain, Jal Er’Shatal, will deal with them. He has direct communication with me.’

Meeting concluded, A Ahmud Ki exited the temple, followed by his soldiers.

As the temple door closed, Law turned to Lightning. ‘Ring the bell for prayer. You will take it today. I have other urgent matters in Jarudha’s service to attend to. When prayer is finished, you will meet with the other acolytes and organise the following: I want a full count of the number of Ranu soldiers that remain in the settlement and where they are situated. I want to know what weapons they have. Find out how many have
gone to the plantations. Get everyone back to work as usual. Don’t begin evacuating anyone and don’t talk about the Ranu ultimatum.’

He waited for Lightning to confirm that he understood, then left the temple to begin his circuitous return to the cave.

‘Without the supply of raw euphoria we cannot maintain our plans for the Last Days,’ said Seer Moon, his craggy face lit by the soft blue haze of the return portal to Port of Joy.

‘The supplies stockpiled in the temple will last three cycles at best,’ said Law.

Word held up his hand for silence, and remained in a thoughtful pose while Law, Moon, Pelican and Newday waited patiently. Finally, he said, ‘We can’t let the Ranu take the islands.’

‘But how can we stop them?’ Law asked. ‘We don’t have an army here.’

‘We have enlightenment,’ Word responded and held up his phial of purple powder. ‘We are an army if we want to be.’

‘You mean to fight the Ranu?’ Moon whispered.

‘Our predecessors fought their enemies,’ said Word. ‘They were instrumental in the downfall of the Shessian kings and queens. And we are more powerful than they ever dreamed of being.’

‘At what risk?’ Law asked. ‘The Ranu have powerful weapons, more powerful than anything our predecessors faced.’

‘Jarudha will protect us,’ Word replied. ‘He will show us a way.’

‘But we need permission from His Eminence,’ said Moon.

‘And we will get it when he learns what has happened,’ Word argued. ‘Law must remain here to
assure the Ranu that nothing has changed. Pelican will stay in the cave to keep the portal open and protect it from accidental discovery by the Ranu. We will return to Port of Joy and petition His Eminence. He can’t ignore what has happened here. After all, he was the one who predicted the Ranu would be a threat to our plans. Now the Ranu will feel Jarudha’s wrath.’

C
reator lowered his notes to watch Scripture enter the invention chamber and approach down the shallow steps. Aware of the news from the Fallen Star Islands, Creator was busily coordinating the manufacture of new quantities of enlightenment at Word’s request. There was a battle looming with the Ranu, and Word’s efforts to draw Scripture from his room had apparently been successful. ‘Your Eminence,’ he said as Scripture reached him. ‘You’ve heard the news?’

‘I’ve heard enough,’ Scripture snapped.

Creator noted the elder Seer’s haggard appearance, the look of a man who had starved himself and hardly slept.

Scripture held up a phial of enlightenment powder. ‘I want you to melt this into crystal form.’ Creator blinked and peered over his nearseers as if he didn’t understand the instruction. ‘Why?’

‘I’ve had an epiphany,’ Scripture replied. ‘In my dreams Jarudha showed me how to amplify the Blessing he has given us.’

‘By crystallising the enlightenment?’

Scripture stared at Creator, his expression suggesting he was irritated by the inventor’s lack of
imagination. ‘I’ve read every single text ever written on the subject of the Demon Horsemen and the Abomination, every text recorded on the Conduit, and Truth and Vision’s search for it. I know what it is. I know how the Abomination used it. Mould the enlightenment into the form of a crystal. Make it like glass, like a prism that takes in the light and breaks it into colours. That is what the Conduit does. It takes in the energy and breaks it into its parts, which makes the Blessing much easier to use. This is the key. This is what Jarudha has shown me.’

Creator’s expression changed from confusion to wonder, and he dropped to his knees before Scripture. ‘Your Eminence,’ he said quietly, ‘I have never been worthy of the role you gave to me.’

‘Get up!’ Scripture snapped. ‘Do as I ask and you will be among the first to walk in Paradise. You are the purest of Jarudha’s servants and I have never doubted the Blessing you were given.’

Creator rose slowly, gazing at Scripture in admiration, a look Scripture silently enjoyed.
Yes
, he thought as he handed the enlightenment phial to his colleague,
I am worthy of your adulation
.

The five assembled Seers stared at the portal in the temple, memories of Prayer’s fate preying on their minds.

‘Only those who truly have faith can walk with me this evening,’ Scripture announced, his blue robe shining in the portal’s glow. ‘We remember how Prayer was taken up. Like you, I have thought long on that matter and how we all felt his fear. His faith failed him at the end. Perhaps he was judged unworthy. This is what we all fear—our unworthiness being revealed before Jarudha and His servants. But you have all seen what has transpired in the past three days. The Ranu
have taken possession of the Fallen Star Islands and in their arrogance believe that they can keep us from what Jarudha has given to us. For this they will be held accountable, I promise you.

‘You all now wear a crystal of amber. Jarudha would not have given me the dream if He did not want us to hold the true power of the Conduit. Where our predecessors chased one Conduit, we have created six. Praise be to Creator for what he has done.’

Word, Pelican, Newday and Moon echoed the sentiment and Creator bowed his head in humility.

‘I locked myself away, as I told you,’ Scripture continued, ‘to find an answer. Jarudha has led me to it, but it is an answer that demands the united strength of the truly faithful.’ He drew a breath, gazing at his brethren. ‘We know that alone we are weak. This is the lesson Prayer gifted to us. We must not stand alone before Jarudha’s servants. When we pass through the portal we must be as one, channelling through my mind as Creator has taught us in the past. You must forget yourself, your mortality, your fears and give yourself entirely over to me. Only then can we open the door to the Last Days and Paradise. This is the gift Jarudha passed to me. This is what you must give to me.’

He stared at the five Seers, each robed in blue, each wearing an amber crystal hanging from a silver chain around his neck. He smiled.

‘This is where Jarudha’s kingdom begins!’ he announced triumphantly.

The nausea made Word stumble, and he sank into the grey dust, feeling as if he might vomit. Portal travel had never weakened him this dramatically before. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at one of the younger Seers, Moon. ‘I’m fine,’ he said and straightened unsteadily.

The intensity of the cloudless blue sky surprised him, as did the endless grey of the landscape that stretched towards a darker smudge, suggesting mountains, in the distance. Scattered across the forbidding plains were stark white trees, their sharp limbs seeming inclined to rip out the sky’s underbelly.

‘This is nothing like I expected,’ said Moon.

‘This is what those who do not inherit Paradise will see,’ Scripture explained. ‘Paradise is reserved only for those who are worthy.’

‘This is an empty place,’ said Newday. ‘Is this where Prayer died?’

‘There is an underground chamber,’ Word explained. ‘Look for a tunnel opening.’

They walked the dust-gripped landscape for what seemed a painfully long time, searching for an opening, the invisible sun’s heat slowly creeping into their pores and making them sweat. ‘Focus on your faith,’ Scripture urged at regular intervals. ‘You are one with me.’

Word focussed as instructed, but the passing time ate at his faith like a determined rodent until he began to doubt that an opening would ever be found. And then they stumbled upon it: a flight of stone steps descending into the earth and darkness.

‘Now it is important to forget yourself and be one with me,’ Scripture warned, and he led them in single file down the staircase.

Word was glad to leave behind the strange world, even to go into darkness, but as his feet touched each stone step memories of Prayer’s fate echoed in his mind and fear lurked in his thoughts. Scripture was leading them into an unknown place where Prayer had met a Demon Horseman, and no one knew if it was possible to return. In his insistence amplifying their Blessing through him, Scripture had gambled all their lives. Only
Law and Pelican remained behind, trapped on the Fallen Star Islands at the mercy of the Ranu. If they were all to perish in this underground realm, this place of emptiness and death, what would become of the future?

The steps ceased and they stood in a dark corridor. Scripture spoke in Word’s mind, but he was talking to everyone in the group.
Focus together. Let me use your minds and I will make light to continue on our way. Shield yourself from fear when we face the Demon Horsemen. Believe. Jarudha walks with you. You are a true disciple.

A moment passed and a white sphere of light appeared, floating above their heads.

Behold what you have made
, Scripture projected.
Have faith
.

With their way lit, the Seers filed along the corridor, Scripture leading, Moon trailing at the rear.

They entered a circular chamber, one that Word noted was different from that he recalled Prayer entering. There was no strange ebony statue at its centre; just emptiness and two openings into corridors. Scripture must have detected his uncertainty because images and words formed in his mind.

Never question what you see. Trust in Jarudha and all will be revealed as he chooses
.

Word recognised it as a direct quotation from
The Word
: a section of early text that exhorted readers to place their entire faith unquestioningly in Jarudha if they truly wanted to see the truth and receive salvation. Blind, unquestioning faith—the kind they expected from the acolytes and from the disciples of their religion. Now he was struggling with it because of his rising fear of the unknown. He chastised himself and focussed on emptying his mind of fear, but he was startled by Scripture’s strident voice.

‘Hear us, those who are destined to scourge the world of sin. We, Jarudha’s faithful disciples, have opened the pathway to the Last Days as promised in all the ancient texts. Come to us that we might lead you to wipe the world free of the impious and the unfaithful, the sinners and the unbelievers who defile all that your master created. Come to us, oh Jarudha’s Demon Horsemen!’

Scripture’s call reverberated in the chamber and along the corridors. When the chamber returned to silence, Word could hear only his own breathing and heartbeat. His entire being screamed silently for him to leave. This place was not safe. If he stayed, he would die like Prayer.

Scripture repeated his exhortation and again the call echoed through the space, followed by silence. Word’s fear threatened to overwhelm him, but then he saw Moon shaking palpably and sweat beading on Pelican’s forehead and he discovered a source of calm in their shared terror. He could be stronger than the younger Seers. After Scripture, he was the eldest, the Seer the others would look to in Scripture’s absence.

I am your ever-faithful servant
, he silently recited.
In the face of death, I seek only to be joined with your spirit. I see only your light and your way
.

Faint light appeared in one of the corridors, light that steadily grew and took on a blue sheen. Spurs clinked and metal boots scraped against stone. The light brightened and the corridor filled with the shape of an armoured man, shining with blue light, as if he were the light itself. In his hand he carried a sword unlike any Word had ever imagined, with a broad blade and serrated edges, a cruel weapon designed to tear chunks from an opponent and inflict ragged wounds that would fester and never heal.

The warrior strode into the chamber and halted before Scripture, his face hidden behind a visor within a
plate-armour helmet. Word thought the warrior was going to speak, but then he raised his sword. A desperate image of Prayer flashed into Word’s mind and all hope drained from him.
Be strong
! Scripture roared in his head, challenging his fear.

The sword reached its zenith above the warrior’s head and its blade flared with bright blue tongues of flame. Behind him, Word glimpsed a second figure of light emerging from the corridor. And then the scene paused, as if it were a painting or a tapestry like those hanging on the palace walls, and Scripture’s voice roared again in his mind, but this time addressing the warriors.

Stay your sword! Kneel before a disciple of Jarudha
!
Kneel to show your faith
!

Word expected the sword to cleave Scripture in two, as it must have Prayer. When it began to lower slowly, his heart skipped a beat in astonishment and relief, and he felt hope pour into him where fear had fought to take control. But the warrior did not kneel as His Eminence ordered. The second warrior stood at the right side of the first and both held their swords points to the ground.

Focus
! roared Scripture through Word’s mind. Fighting his swirling emotions, Word tried to bring his mind to bear on Scripture and to open his thoughts to him, but he was afraid. He did not understand and yet he understood everything. They were in the presence of the Demon Horsemen, the highest and most potent servants of Jarudha. Truly, they were the deliverers of the Last Days after all. Truly, it was they who were destined to enter the realm of Paradise and sit with Jarudha to watch over eternity. Here he was, standing before the beings to whom he’d committed his entire life, and he was utterly terrified.

Word sat alone in his chamber, unable to suppress the cold fear sliding through his veins. His hands trembled as he opened his personal diary and smoothed down a fresh, crisp page. He stared at the blank paper as if he expected it to marshal his thoughts for him, but his mind was assailed by images of the encounter with the Demon Horsemen; they were seared into his consciousness. He reached for the autoscribe, but the trembling tip stayed poised above the waiting paper for a long time before he could lower it, and the entry began with an ink blot.

Jarudha be blessed
, he scrawled.
Jarudha be praised
. He repeated the phrases three times, unable to move forward. Then he wrote,
I was in the presence of your servants, my Lord, and I was afraid. I am still afraid. Why, oh blessed and awesome Jarudha, am I so racked with fear that my hands shake and I feel ice in my blood?

He laid the autoscribe beside the diary and sat back in his chair, staring at the holy circle embossed on the chamber’s stone wall.
Why am I so afraid?
he silently asked the circle.

Scripture had risked all of their lives to confront the Horsemen, and he was grateful that His Eminence had remembered to close the portal behind them when they returned to the temple.

A knock at his door startled him and he hesitated before querying, ‘Who is it?’

The handle turned and a familiar face appeared, shadowed by the wire-lightning light. ‘It’s time we talked,’ Scripture said, and entered unbidden.

‘Your Eminence,’ Word said, standing and bowing his head.

‘Sit down,’ Scripture snapped. ‘We’re colleagues inside this room.’ He pulled a wooden stool towards
Word’s chair and sat. ‘So,’ he began, ‘what do you think?’

Word blinked. ‘About what, Your—’ He stopped before finishing the title.

‘How will we use the Demon Horsemen?’ Scripture said.

Word raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s not for us to use them,’ he answered cautiously.

Scripture rubbed his eyes, a sigh revealing his intense exhaustion. He straightened his head and looked Word in the eye. ‘Without our combined wills to constrain them, they would have slaughtered us,’ he said quietly. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

That is why I am still afraid
, Word silently admitted. He said, ‘Yes.’

‘They know that we are all tainted with our sins,’ Scripture explained. ‘They smell it on us. They see it in our hearts. Without the Conduit to protect us, we will perish with all the others.’

‘So it seems.’

‘But with the Conduit and our will, we can command them,’ Scripture said confidently.

Word heard a tiny note of triumph in Scripture’s voice, a touch of hubris that had always marked the older man’s leadership. It didn’t ease his fear.