Waking Olympus (The Singers of the Dark Book 1) (12 page)

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Authors: Peter Yard

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Waking Olympus (The Singers of the Dark Book 1)
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"I will be fine, Tei. I — I just remembered a whole lot of things, all at once."

He told her. Not all of it, just a summary. A bloody, chilling summary.

"Gods! Damn! Here I thought you were some clueless child shielded from the real world. This was a mistake. I've got us into danger. I wasn't thinking."

"I am fine. Really. We'll get out of here. Tonight. I really don't want to stay any longer. Too many memories here."

"It will be too dark to leave, it will also look very suspicious. We can leave first thing tomorrow. You've been here before?"

"No. Just the slaves and the attitude. Makes me very uncomfortable."

They got back onto the main thoroughfare heading back the way they came. Some others were on the same path. They were the overseers from the excavation.

Mikel approached one. Tei reached out to stop him, too late.

"Hello sir, Mark Oconnor, a merchant from Bethor. Recently set up my business. I thought I'd visit the Plains to see what the Cities needed." He offered his hand. The other fellow accepted it.

He was dressed in a dark waistcoat, with light colored britches, he couldn't tell the colors in the fading light.

"See our quartermaster, he should be able to supply you with a list. It would be very welcome."

"Looks like you're digging. Foundations for a new building? Or perhaps a metal mining venture?"

"Those would be boring but more useful. Lindin is pretty much mined out these days. My own family got rich stripping the skyscrapers way back. Nothing profitable about this however, I have to babysit a group of academics from the College of Bethor. Some archeological 'dig'. Looking for surviving parts of the Lindin Library." He ended it with a conspiratorial sneer.

They talked about the weather, the opportunity for hunting in the area, fishing. All poor from what the overseer said. Then they farewelled him.

"Mikel? How did you do that? How could you just shut that off?" Tei looked worried.
 

"When I was young I had to block it out. So I used the hope of a new life, a new way of looking at the world. It turned my old world into a bad evil dream, irrelevant and best forgotten. Now I not only have hope but anger. I can reject everything they stand for with glee; deceiving them is a joy."

Tei put her arm in his, holding on to him, not just an act now. Even in the fading light, she could see the tears in his eyes.

At daybreak next morning they left.

There had been some rain in the area they were going through. The grass was bright green, glistening with raindrops like diamonds, bright starlike points sparkling from individual drops, the clouds rapidly breaking up and disappearing to the west, the sun low in the east. Insects were buzzing, the world looked too clear and perfect to be real.

"Mikel? Are you all right?"

Mikel was in the lead, which was unusual, and hadn't said a word in more than an hour.

"Not really. Still so many terrible things in my head. Let's talk about something else. Hey, what was that fellow talking about? An 'archeological dig'? Since when was Bethor interested in broadening their minds? I smell a rat, or a lot of rats."

The hardness in his tone was new. Whatever he had remembered had changed him, Tei wasn't sure if this would make him a liability. She had seen others blinded by hate leading their team into certain death, ignoring all reason and strategy. It only ended in slaughter. Fortunately, Mikel was still a novice and not in command of anything. This admission made her wonder why he was still on this trail with her, why didn't she just send him back?

"Hmm. Can't say. You are right, it is very unusual. Who would fund it and why?"

"Why excavate a library? Surely, all the papyrus would have long since decayed?" he said.

Tei almost stopped as if startled. "That's it! I was so busy trying not to get noticed it didn't occur to me before. The Cities when they were in decline transferred a lot of their knowledge to paper and papyrus, but they also converted some of it into a permanent form. There were stories that the Cities made some books of thin sheets of nickel with information printed onto it. Lindin had the greatest library. They must be after designs of weapons. They would only do that …"

"If they were going to start a war. A very big war."

Tei didn't speak anymore because she was afraid of sharing her suspicions about what would come next.

Mikel did not speak because the memory of his last message to the Center was fresh in his mind, and now there was a vision of an army of enslavers on the march. It hurt so much he wanted to physically scream, instead he picked up the pace. He knew he would be part of this war one way or another. He didn't fear it now, he welcomed it.

When they got back to the camp Tei gathered everyone around and recounted what had happened, leaving out anything that would embarrass Mikel.

Mikel sat away from everyone, just staring at the dirt, or admiring a grass stalk he constantly twiddled with his fingers. He wasn't even listening. He didn't see the occasional glances towards him.

Tarvis came over and sat by his side.

"Tei says that you had some problems in Lindin. Didn't say what exactly. You know …"

Mikel could feel Tarvis coiling like a snake about to strike.

"… I'll be straight with you, your Bethor accent is too good. I heard you practicing it before you went to Lindin. By Zeus son if you try to hurt or betray Tei, or us, I will slit your throat myself. You got it?"

"That's bullshit, Tarvis! I've been in Lind since I was ten years old. I came from a village just north of Bethor. I was a slave in Bethor until the Wizards rescued me."

"Tarvis!" Tei's voice, slow and edged with anger. "Leave him alone. He's okay. He has even more reason to hate Bethor than we do."

Tei gently grabbed Tarvis by the arm and pulled him away. Tarvis, looking back at Mikel slowly understanding.

Later Travis came over and sat next to him. There was only the sound of insects; chirps, clicks, the breeze in the grass, darkness had fallen, a slight rushing sound from the darkness beyond as if the night had a voice. Mikel still felt dangerous, like a booby trap waiting to wreak harm over all those nearby.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier, I didn't know. How are you holding up?" Tarvis said.

"I've been worse."

"Yeah, so I heard. You know, you're not alone in that son. You see everyone here has had to deal with tragedy in their lives, it seems we live in hard times. So they understand. Tei, 'boss lady' herself, do not tell her I said that, lost her twin brother to a bandit attack when she was young. Blames herself, don't tell her I said that either."

He paused, looked at Mikel, then looked away into the dark. "My wife, love of my life, died in childbirth, lost them both."

Mikel looked at him. A focused stare, lasting maybe three seconds, the stare you sometimes see, or receive, when someone re-evaluates another, seeing them truly for the first time.

"I'm sorry. I …"

"We all have our own unique pain. But sharing eases it better than anything else. Don't hide away Mikel."

Tarvis got up and proceeded to light the fire; he built it in such a way that almost no smoke rose from it, he had dug a small pit and placed the fire inside it to reduce the chance of anyone else seeing it, unnecessary here but it was a habit he couldn't break. He used Mikel's fire-starter kit, which he had taken a liking to, then they sat together, silent, occupying a cocoon of yellow, flickering light. Cozy, familiar, with friends.

He didn't know what Tei thought of him now. Did she think him useless for his breakdown in Lindin? Was he a burden she would quickly dispense with, dispatching him back to Lind with an attached note: 'rejected, please don't insult me'. He would just have to push through this. Usually, when this feeling would come over him he would surrender to — or was it embrace? — his curiosity. It had saved not just his life and sanity but his spirit, it had helped make him a better person. He was curious, interested in all things and all people, and surprisingly he found a deep human bond with almost all of them. The hatred in Bethor was an aberration, a wall to keep the truth and companionship out. Or perhaps he was simply naive; no, it
felt
right.

Tei came down the files checking on everyone and scanning, the horizon, the animals, the riders. And Mikel. She matched pace with him.

"How are you?" She sounded concerned, even gentle. "I was very worried back in Lindin. You're a good man, Mikel, a credit to the Wizards. Don't worry, you'll do fine, we're all here to back you up. Any questions?" She smiled.

"Well. There are some things that I have wondered about. No one in Lind could answer them for me. For example, why is Bethor so different? I mean there is the Center, and also the Traders they both respect knowledge and learning. Even tolerance."

"And the original Cities. They were the same. You want to know what made Bethor so crazy?" She said.

"Yes."

He had never understood this. More than anyone he knew what the people of Bethor were capable of, and yet they shared the same origins and culture.

"Long ago, after the calamity that overcame our world, there was a small fishing port called Benthic. Many refugees flooded there. It was where Benthic Corp had established a fishing fleet, one of the few remaining sources of food. Over the years the name mutated to Bethor. There were petty revolutions, but at least in Bethor they didn't fight with Ancient weapons, as they did in the Cities. But they had too many revolutions. Too much history was lost. They forgot who they were and became different, they started to think they were special, that they had a 'Destiny'. Among the revolutions some people returned to the Cities. But most stayed. Eventually, Bethor took on the Cities, who no longer had any functioning weapons and had lost the ability or will to rebuild. It was a terrible and sad time. Does that answer your question?"

"I guess so. I hadn't realized how traumatic their history was. Before you go I have another question, a little one this time?" He smiled at her. To his surprise she smiled back.

"What was that unusual tech the farmers were selling, as jewelry?"

"Good question. Maybe someday you'll find the answer to it, in short — I don't know. No one knows. It is very old, older than the Ancients, but we don't know what it is. It is hard to find, usually you have to chip it out of solid rock. I have no idea where the farmers got it. But they are pretty aren't they?"

"Indeed and the mystery makes them even more alluring."

"And about that 'calamity' …"

"No. That's enough. And no one knows much about that anyway." She moved her knees and the horse leapt forward. She was back on duty.

thirteen
Eve of a Nightmare

From atop the South Tower of the Palace she looked toward the Lake and southern Lindin. There was a low blue haze over the city shading to a brown smear as she looked to the horizon. Brown floating above the shimmering lake. She thought about Tanten to the East and Lind far to the West. Once they had access to such great knowledge then her own wizards would rise in power, and all that power and knowledge would find her at the nexus. As it should be. She looked down at the people of Lindin going to and fro like mindless ants.

"Look at them all scurrying about. An ignorant mob, unthinking, ignorant of their past, clueless about the present, muddled about the future. I will fix that. Under me they will be educated and learn their own history, they will forget Earth, make their own way in the Universe. The knowledge of the Wizards and Traders comes with strings attached, we will forget the past and its failed morality." She looked about. Her entourage smiled knowingly, she had picked them well. They agreed with her completely and would obey without question.

"Ellis, Mirren, are you clear on your goal?"

"Yes sir, General Markham." Both replied on cue.

One day she would change how they addressed her. But it was too soon to call her 'Empress'.

"A boat to Pareth is waiting for you. I repeat, make it known to Lord Atkins that he will be very well rewarded for his efforts, he will know what I mean."

She waved them off, they saluted and her two lieutenants departed briskly. All of her people had a sense of purpose missing from the rest of the world. It always gave her a thrill to look at them and think of their destiny. All obstacles seemed to fall before her now, now that she had understood what was required, the selfless devotion to the Cause, the sacrifices, the deaths, even those at her hands would be honored one day.

She stood considering the view for another twenty minutes. Thinking how she would rebuild the Cities, educate the Bethor people, and with so many new slaves at their beck and call.

She also considered her revenge, how she would imprison, then torture, so slowly, so creatively, those she had come to despise, and the list was so long, even before she thought outside of Bethor. It almost made her flush with excitement and anticipation, but not yet. Soon.
Be patient
, she told herself. She did this occasionally, her own private pep-talk, to bolster her resolve, especially when she had to do something 'distasteful' which, by her definition, was to practice her revenge on those she knew were innocent.

She left the tower and proceeded, down endless stairs, to the dungeon. Only the light of a brazier and a few oil lamps lit the room she entered. There, strapped to a table, with the odd bruise, spatter of blood, and burn mark, was the subject of her inquiry. The man's name was Marius, he was the owner of the Horse's Whistle Inn, which catered to merchants on the Eastern Road, but now he was of interest because someone noticed him talking to a man and woman, but the woman was overheard later to have a Trader accent. The informant claimed to have heard from an adjoining room. Liz thought this spurious but they might as well see what this innkeeper knew. A pity he was just an ordinary man, still there needed to be sacrifices if the future she planned was to be achieved.

She didn't bother letting him have his name in her mind, which made it easier to ignore his suffering.

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