The Second God (14 page)

I was too choked with misery to speak, or do anything except cling to him.

“Everything we do is a risk,” he went on calmly. “
Life
is a risk. We cannot avoid risk without avoiding life itself.”

When did he become so wise? Years of court life had given him perspective, perhaps. I knew he was right. And love – that was the greatest risk of all. To love another human being, you had to open yourself completely, holding nothing back. You put your heart, your happiness, your very soul, in the hands of another person. You made yourself utterly vulnerable to sorrow, and betrayal, and loss. And yet, wasn’t it worth it? Every time I woke to see Arran beside me, every time he looked at me from across a room, affection in his face, every time I emerged, exhausted, from a long meeting to see his smiling face, I knew it was worth it. And even if all that disappeared tomorrow, it would still have been worth it.

“You really want to do this?” I croaked, my throat tight.

“I do. I want us to be united, the three of us, to do things together. I never want to be left behind again.”

I laughed in a burst of delight. “Yes! That would be wonderful. I’ve been selfish, haven’t I? Thinking only of how it would affect me. But this isn’t just about me, it’s about you and Ly and the future of both the Blood Clans and Bennamore.”

“But it is also a very personal thing,” he said seriously. “It will change us all, for good or ill.”

“And yet you still want to try it.”

“I do.”

“And you want to fly an eagle.”

He grinned. “That, too, of course. Who would not?”

“Well, then, we will do this. We will blood-bond with Ly, no matter the consequences.”

Once again, I travelled north, riding with Arran in slow procession. In vain I’d protested that I would be leaving Bennamore, going into the heart of the Clanlands, and all those accompanying scribes and waiting women and guards would have to turn round at the border and go straight back to Kingswell. I was still Drashonor, still one of the most powerful people in the realm, and it was unthinkable for me to go anywhere without a full escort.

How I envied Ly, gliding serenely above us on Diamond. He’d never managed to deal with horses. Their minds weren’t receptive to his bonding power, panicking whenever he was near, and he was terrified of riding a creature that he couldn’t control with his mind. So he flew while we rode, and disappeared at night to sleep alone. I knew exactly where he was, though. He could never hide from me, for his magic blazed in my mind as large as the moon.

At Lakeside, Mother wept all over Arran and me as if she would never see us again, Cal hugged me tight and Sallorna gave us both jade necklaces imbued with spells for good fortune on long journeys. The Kellon offered us the resources of his modest hall, but we needed nothing, beyond a room for one night. We’d brought everything we’d need from Kingswell.

The following morning we set off on foot. It surprised me how little we took with us. Arran carried his sword and shield, a couple of knives, a bow and quiver. Ly had his own hunting equipment, and I had a small pack with some food supplies, my herbs and a brewing pot. I took a navigation stone and map, too, and some salves and bandages, but I hoped not to need them. Apart from water flasks, a blanket and cloak each, that was all. Everything else we needed for food or shelter, we would make or catch or prepare on the spot. Or Ly would, rather. We were very much in his hands. Arran had done a little camping as a boy, and later during his Elite training, but he was far from able to survive in the wild, and I had no skills to contribute. It was as much as I could do to get dressed each morning without help.

But we had to spend a moon living in the wilderness, so Ly told us, to allow the blood-bond the time to work.
“To show its temperament”,
as Ly put it. At least it was high summer, the nights would be warm and we were coming up to brightmoon, so we had only a few hours of darkness to get through each night.

The eagles went with us, but Arran had to walk so we all walked. He had already chosen his eagle, a large male a little darker than the others, whom he had named Midnight. Several other birds from Kingswell, and a couple from Lakeside tagged along, too, still taking a protective interest in Sunshine. Or perhaps they were just curious about what we were doing.

We set off to the west, with the small town and the breeze-ruffled lake soon left behind. The two men strode forwards purposefully, eyes shining with suppressed excitement, as if it were just a pleasant adventure, a modest break in routine. If they had any reservations about the irrevocable step we were taking, they made no mention of them. I trudged behind them, my head full of doubts that I tried in vain to suppress.

The level grassland near the lake, smoothed by generations of Clanfolk, was easy walking, but it soon gave way to rougher ground and then woodland, which gradually became dense forest. In the times of war, a road had been carved through to carry the wagons and riders, and for a while we followed that. The road surface, whether wood or stone, had been covered over with leaf litter and other debris now, and new growth sprouted everywhere, but it was easier walking than the deep forest on either side, a maze of fallen trees and tangled bushes.

Late in the morning, we came to a wider gash in the forest. A straight road ran as far as the eye could see in both directions. It was called the Imperial Road, although no one knew why. The magical heart of Kingswell, the Imperial City, had equally mysterious origins, for there had never been an empire in this part of the world, or none that were recorded in our histories.

I’d asked my tutor once why they were so named, and she’d smiled and said, “Whenever people cannot understand a thing, they always ascribe it to a higher power. If it arises in nature, why then it must be the work of the gods. And for something constructed, it is the Empire. For we have had Drashons and Princes and Kings, and none of them could have built the Imperial City or the Imperial Road. So it must have been an Emperor.”

At the time, I’d laughed, but standing on the road now, I was struck forcibly by the idea. The Bennamorian war-road, abandoned only five years ago, was already little more than an overgrown track. In another five years it would be lost altogether. Yet the Imperial Road looked much as its makers had left it. Wide enough for twenty men to walk abreast, as straight as a spear, and untainted by weeds or cracked slabs or dirt. The surface was as smooth and level as if it had just been laid. On either side lay a strip of verge, which would be overgrown and lost in a season anywhere else if untended. Here, it looked as if a team of scythers had just passed through.

I’d ridden along this road before, but then I’d been escaping from the Blood Clans, and terrified that Ly would find me and drag me back to be his prisoner again. Now, the circumstances were very different. In Bennamorian law, Ly would always be my prisoner, but I didn’t doubt he was as free now as he’d ever been. Free, and happy to be away from Kingswell, it seemed to me. There was a contentment about him as we left civilisation behind and headed into the wilderness.

“Where does it go to, this road?” Arran said, looking into the distance first one way, then the other.

“Nowhere,” I said. “It starts up a few marks to the south of here, it runs on like this for hundreds of marks, then it just stops.”

“It should connect two great cities,” Arran said. “The southern end must be close to the Imperial City…?”

I shook my head. “Wrong direction. I assume it pre-dates the Catastrophe, so who knows what its original purpose was? But it is pointless now.”

Except for those making war on the Blood Clans, I amended mentally. When we’d pursued our ill-fated attempt to secure the black-bark forest a few years ago, the Imperial Road had made it possible. Then it had echoed to the cries of the oxen-drivers urging their beasts onward, the creaking of wagons and the rattle of many well-armed soldiers marching to war. Now it was silent and still, not even a bird calling.

Ly waited for us just off the road, in the shadows where the trees began again. In front of us was untouched forest, with nothing but the occasional deer track to aid our progress. Before long, we were making wide detours around brambles or bog, and scrambling over fallen trees. Arran solicitously helped me find my way over or around obstacles, and once carried me bodily across a particularly boggy stretch, but I was soon a mess, my hands scratched and my trousers torn.

“Does it get easier?” I puffed, as Ly waited in a sunny clearing for us to catch up.

“That depends what you mean by easier,” he said with his gentle smile.

A shadow passed over us, and as I looked up I caught a glimpse of one of the eagles gliding far above. No brambles for them!

Ly must have seen the expression on my face, for he laughed and shook his head, curls bobbing. “Not yet, Princess! A few more sun-crossings of walking, then we make camp. But when we leave, we will
all
fly.”

Arran grinned, and slapped Ly playfully on the shoulder. I wished I had their confidence. Up above, the eagles floated serenely.

We stopped briefly to eat the parcels of food in our pockets, then carried on. As the afternoon wore away, the forest began to be more open, with massive oaks spreading their branches far above our heads and little growing beneath them in the gloom. We walked in a cavernous hall with great trunks like pillars supporting the green roof, our boots making no sound on the dry earth. Somewhere up above, the eagles flew on in the light, and once or twice I skipped into Sunshine’s head to look down on the unbroken green of the forest. But the light dazzled my eyes, and I found it hard to walk in the half-light below while looking at so much brilliance above. Besides, the endless trees were depressing. When would we ever escape them?

Late in the afternoon, Ly turned aside and led us surely to the banks of a little stream, with a patch of level ground to one side and a welcome glimpse of sky above.

“We will camp here tonight,” he said.

While he and Arran gathered wood and set about making a fire, I scrabbled round in my pack for the food we’d brought to sustain us on the journey. Once we fixed on a camp, Ly would hunt and cook for us, but for now we had to make do with the supplies we carried. Laying it all out on a flat stone, I gazed at the assortment of packages and bags and small flasks, opening this and that. All of it had been chosen and wrapped by Ly, and many items I couldn’t even identify. Too much for one meal, but what to choose? A little of everything, or just one or two things? It was too difficult.

Ly laughed when he came back, arms full of wood. “Are you having trouble, Princess?”

“I have no idea what we should eat. And what is this?”

“Grains. Very tasty stuffed into a game bird or a hare with a few berries, but no use to us tonight.”

“The cheese, then…”

“No, the cheese has a wax rind,” he said, without impatience. “It will keep for a long time. We will eat the bread, that cold meat there, and one each of those pastries. I picked a few berries on the way, but there is not much ripe fruit yet.”

“Why that meat, rather than the other types?”

“This one is salted, and this is dried, so they will keep for longer. The duck is fresh, so we should eat it first.”

“You see, this is why I should leave the meals to you. Next time, I will gather wood, and you can sort out the food.”

He smiled at me. “As you wish.”

We sat companionably round the fire, eating, drinking some hot concoction of Ly’s and chatting idly about the weather and the camp we would share. Or rather, the two men did. I lay back in the grass and heather, eyes closed. Sunshine and her friends had been hunting, and were currently devouring a couple of goats, so I wasn’t interested in watching the world through her eyes. Instead, I tried Ly’s head, and to my delight, it was open to me. I had the pleasure of watching Arran’s face as he talked, alive with enthusiasm for the camp they would build, and how he could help. It brought home to me everything he’d said about being useful. It pleased me so much that he was happy in our little adventure, but I couldn’t shake the nagging fear in my heart.

After a while, the damp grass chilled me, and I reached for a little of Ly’s magic to warm me. And then a little more, because it felt good and he had plenty to spare now. So relaxing, the sensation of magic flowing through me, soothing my aching legs and seeping into my very bones. It was hard to worry about the future when the present was so restful and pleasant. For a while, there would be no meetings, no disgruntled nobles to be appeased, no Yannassia summoning me, no tedious formal dinners with visiting dignitaries, no threat of war. Just walking through wild forest with the two men I loved best in the world. I took a little more magic and then, exhausted, I fell asleep.

I woke once in the darkness, only the dull embers of the fire giving any light. Someone had covered me with a blanket. I could detect Ly’s magic somewhere just on the far side of the fire. But Arran was invisible to my senses. Rolling over, I discovered him lying next to me, curled up in a cloak, only his blond hair visible. Contented, I wrapped the blanket more tightly around me, and went back to sleep.

~~~~~

By the time we camped for the third night, the endless forest had become a tedious chore. I was heartily sick of trees and their wayward habits. Just when we thought we’d found a clear path for a change, there would be a clearing full of thorn bushes, or a stream, or a line of fallen trees to be climbed over or detoured around. But for several hours now we had been climbing steadily, the trees changing to spindly upland varieties, and I knew from Sunshine’s view that we were not far from open country.

Arran and I collected wood while Ly dug a firepit and sorted out food for us. He’d speared one of the tiny woodland deer that morning, so we had fresh meat to look forward to, and the forest supplied a hundred different varieties of mushroom to choose from. The bread and pastries were gone, but there was plenty of cheese and dried fruit. Not a feast, but Ly’s skills with herbs and sprinkles of this and that managed to make even the plainest meal tasty. I would have loved a glass of decent wine to wash it down, though. That and my books were the only aspects of civilisation that I missed.

Again, I was so tired that I fell asleep almost as soon as we’d finished eating. This time I woke again while it was still light, the moon filling the sky. I turned my head to find Arran’s face a hand-span from my own. He was wide awake, gazing solemnly at me.

“What is it? Why aren’t you asleep?” I whispered.

“No reason. Well, nothing important, anyway.”

“If it keeps you awake, it’s important. Do you want to talk about it?”

He laughed a little sheepishly. “Just… you know.”

“Oh, that.” I laughed too, but the idea was appealing. “Would you like to cuddle?”

“With Ly sleeping only a stone’s throw away?”

“I think he knows what we get up to at night. Besides, we’ll be camping together for a moon. That’s a long time to go without.”