Broken World Book Two - StarSword (28 page)

Talsy bit her
lip. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I don't want
you to get hurt, that's why. I see the way you rely on him, you're
not happy unless he's around. He's like a drug you can't do
without, and it's not right."

"Why should you
care, anyway?"

Kieran ran a
hand through his hair. "Damn it, I know what it's like, and how
much it hurts when they leave. My father never got over Dancer, and
I still miss him to this day. Some people get addicted to Mujar,
and can't live without them."

"Well I won't
have to," she retorted. "Chanter will never leave me."

"You have no
future with him. He's not a Trueman. He's different, alien. He's
the child of another god."

"That doesn't
mean he can't love me."

"It does! He
doesn't have Truemen emotions; he's not capable of it. It's not his
fault. If he had a choice he would probably want to love you, but
he can't."

She stepped
closer to him, her hands clenched, and glared up at him with such
fury that he retreated a pace. "You're the one who's trying to hurt
me. Your poisoned words are born out of envy for Mujar. It makes me
wonder if you're truly chosen or another traitor in our midst."

"You know I'm
chosen." He shook his head. "You just can't accept the truth, can
you? It hurts to hear it, but if you accept it now, you could save
yourself a lot of pain later on."

Talsy pushed
him, forcing him back a step. "Go away! Leave me alone! I don't
want to listen to your poisonous, envious lies!"

He gripped her
arms. "Ask the woman who's with the chosen we brought with us,
she's been through it already!"

"No! It's
different for me!"

"It's not! You
may be the First Chosen, but in the end you're just another girl
who's fallen in love with a Mujar!"

Talsy wrenched
free and slapped him as hard as she could, jerking his head to the
side. He stepped back, averted his face and raised a hand to his
reddening cheek while Talsy fumed, glaring at his profile. A soft
snarl startled her, and they looked around. A wolf sat a few feet
away, watching them with vivid blue eyes.

"Chanter!"
Talsy started towards him, pausing as he shifted to man form in a
frozen moment. He stepped back, his eyes fixed on the Prince, and
she stopped her rush to greet him. The Mujar bristled with wild
power.

"Go to Sheera,
Talsy," he said. "She comes with the rest of the chosen, over
there." He pointed into the forest.

Talsy glanced
at Kieran, who watched the Mujar with narrowed eyes. She hesitated,
and Chanter gestured.

"Go."

With a snort,
she swung away and strode off through the snow in the direction he
had indicated.

Kieran shifted
as the Mujar gazed after Talsy before facing him.

"Come, walk
with me," he said, turning away.

Kieran
followed, his mind whirling with worried thoughts as they walked
deeper into the forest for several minutes, then Chanter stopped
and turned to face him again.

"You're right,
Prince Kieran, and you're wrong. I do love Talsy, but not in the
way you do. If you wish to win her, as I think you do, you're going
about it the wrong way."

Kieran relaxed
at the Mujar's soft, calm words. "I thought you were angry."

"No. I am
Mujar, and we are the children of a different god, as you said. We
don't have Truemen emotions. We do feel anger, but what you said
does not annoy me. I would never hurt Talsy, yet I cannot give her
what she wants. In the end she will be hurt, you're right."

Kieran looked
puzzled. "Why are you talking to me now? You never have
before."

Chanter smiled.
"Isn't this what you've wanted, to have me answer your questions?
I've decided that it's time I did, and you need guidance. You've
proven yourself worthy of my trust and council."

His smile
faded, and he sighed. "Don't argue with her about me, you'll only
make her resent you. She's not as stupid as she sometimes acts, and
she knows that her love for me is futile, I have told her. To win
her you need to be kind and patient, comfort her when she needs it,
but don't try to convince her to stop loving me, it won't
work."

"How can I ever
compete with a damned Mujar?" Kieran growled.

"You can't."
Chanter gazed at him, then chuckled. "The damned Mujar, the
accursed undying, the golden beast men with the shining eyes. To
Truemen we are all of these things, and more."

"I didn't mean
it like that; I meant that no Trueman can hope to compete with a
Mujar's perfection, never mind his powers."

"I know what
you meant. You can't, so don't try. I can't change my man form; it
was given to us for a reason."

"To make
Truemen envious."

"Not always,"
Chanter shook his head. "It was meant to bring out the best and the
worst in your race. Some envied and hated us for it; a few loved
and admired us. The chosen are those who love us, even if some fear
us too, that's allowed. I know that you fear me, and you're torn
between love and hate because of Talsy. Yet her feelings for me are
none of my doing. It's neither her fault nor mine."

"So what can I
do?"

"Be yourself.
Be Trueman. Stay with her when my duty takes me away. I can never
love her as a woman, for there are no female Mujar, as such, so
that love is denied me. Dancer loved you, never doubt that. He left
when you were hurt because the law forbade him to help you, and he
could not bear to see you suffer. Your father never asked for clan
bond, did he?"

Kieran shook
his head. "Only companionship."

"So Dancer
could offer you no more. It wasn't in the bargain, and you had done
him no service to earn a Wish."

The Prince
gazed around at the forest and sighed a cloud of steam. "Then how
do you love her?"

Chanter smiled.
"As I love this world and everything in it. But she's special.
She's the First Chosen, and perhaps I love her more than anything
else."

Kieran frowned.
"Have you lain with her?"

"No." Chanter
looked away, his eyes hidden by the sweep of black lashes. "That
would not be a good idea."

"Why?"

The Mujar shook
his head and turned away, but Kieran grabbed his arm and swung him
back to face him. To his surprise, Chanter offered no resistance,
merely raising his eyes in a look that made Kieran release him.

"You said that
you would answer my questions, and I'm asking you one. Why?"

"Are you not
content that I have not? Leave it be. I have not, nor will I."

"What would it
do to her?"

"That matters
not. It won't happen."

Chanter marched
away into the forest, heading back towards the river. After
pondering his words, Kieran followed.

At the camp,
Talsy chatted to Sheera, and Chanter sat close by with his usual
enigmatic expression, sipping a steaming mug of tea. Kieran found
that his jealousy had left him, and when he saw them together now
he felt only pity for them. Talsy for her impossible dream and for
the Mujar who could never fulfil it. Roth made a place for him by
the fire and he settled down opposite Talsy, meeting her smug
glance with an impassive one.

With almost
three hundred people inside the stone shelter now, the atmosphere
had become cosy and three more fires had been lighted. Many of the
chosen who had just joined them rested or ate. The rebels had
shared out their clothing amongst the less fortunate, and all were
garbed warmly, if rather shabbily.

Tyrander
glanced around the dusty room, his eyes coming to rest on the
imposing portrait of his grandfather hanging on the far wall. He
had not been in this room for many years, and it brought back a lot
of memories. He was calmer now, and almost sober. After venting his
rage and frustration by hacking most of the furniture in his room
to pieces, then attacking the walls and floor, he had called for
strong black tea and imbibed a great deal of it. When most of the
fog had been washed from his brain, the situation only looked
bleaker.

The Mujar had
won. Not only had he thwarted Tyrander's plans to use him to defend
the city, he had freed the traitors and revived the girl. He glared
at the painting of his grandfather.

"You never
wrote that they were so cunning, Grandfather," he addressed it. "In
fact, you said that they were quite stupid. You were wrong, they
were never stupid. I used the knowledge from your book, and it
failed me."

Tyrander
approached the great dusty tome on its wooden stand in the centre
of the room that had once been his grandfather's study. The
leather-bound book was closed, and the golden letters on its cover
read 'The Book of Mujar'.

Tyrander gave a
bitter laugh. "You knew nothing, you old coot. All your learning
was but a drop in the ocean. They never told you anything
important, they were too clever for that."

Opening the
heavy book at random, he let the cover fall with a bang, disturbing
years of dust. The page bore a drawing of a naked Mujar, his body
coloured with gold leaf, his eyes picked out with fragments of blue
butterfly wing. The flowing writing on the opposite page seemed to
leap out at him, and he read it.

'The
reproductive activities of Mujar are a mystery, yet they are
capable of mating with Truemen women. They do so rarely, usually
only as a Wish, and are infertile. Some women claim to have borne
Mujar children, but these were found to be pure Trueman. Some
legends say that Mujar are born from great flowers, but this tale
is usually scoffed at and rightly so. Mujar claim that they do not
mate with animals when in beast form, yet this is the most logical
way in which Mujar could propagate. When questioned, Mujar claim to
'come from the land,' and will explain themselves no further.'

Tyrander turned
the page with a snort. "Who cares?"

Leafing through
the book, he glanced at each ornately inscribed chapter, not
knowing what he sought, yet looking for some idea to thwart the
hated Mujar. The last chapter was entitled 'The Staff of Law'.
Tyrander skipped through the details of how his grandfather had
acquired it and learnt to understand its writing. Almost on the
last page, the heading of a short paragraph caught his eye. He read
it quickly, then again, more slowly. Finally he straightened,
brushing dust from his sleeves, and wandered over to the window to
stare out at the deserted oasis that languished under dull grey
skies. For a long time he thought about what he had read, then
turned to gaze up at the portrait on the wall.

"Perhaps you
did do something right, Grandfather. I would never have thought of
it. Thank you."

Tyrander left
the room with new purpose in his stride, closing the door on its
dusty memories and the steely gaze of the old man on the wall.

After the
chosen had rested and eaten, Chanter insisted that they must move
on, and his urgency surprised Talsy. The people left the shelter
and trudged through deep snow into the forest. Chanter ranged far
ahead, mostly out of sight, leaving the chosen to follow his
footprints. Kieran walked beside her, offering help whenever she
floundered. She glared and shook him off, making things worse for
herself by trying to walk faster. Kieran had always irked her with
his quiet ways, and now it wore at her nerves, too much like a
Mujar, which he was not. Since he chose to walk beside her, she
retaliated by talking, hoping to drive him away.

"So did Chanter
tell you to leave me alone?"

He glanced at
her. "No."

"Oh? What did
he tell you?"

He considered
his answer before replying, "Only that it's useless to try to
persuade you of the futility of your dream. He told me that he's
already explained it to you, but you're too stubborn to
listen."

Talsy gasped in
outrage, tripped and almost went headfirst into a snowdrift. Kieran
grabbed her, keeping her upright. She glared and jerked free,
rubbing her arm. "Well, at least you'll stop hounding me about
it."

"Yes."

For a while
they walked in silence, until Talsy thought of a subject guaranteed
to annoy the Prince. "Have you made up with your mother yet?"

He shot her a
hard look. "No."

"Why not?
Surely she deserves some consideration from her son? You should be
helping her, not me."

"She has
help."

Talsy glanced
back at the Queen, who was being aided by her ladies and Ardel, the
advisor. "She's a very nice lady."

He grunted,
staring ahead.

"I wish I had
known my mother."

"You're a
girl."

She snorted.
"If boys didn't need a mother, their fathers should bear them
too."

"I'm not a boy,
I'm a man."

"Are you so
selfish? Even if you don't need her, she needs you."

He glared at
her. "It's none of your business."

"Yes it is. I
like her, I think she deserves better."

"I don't want
to talk about it."

"Well I do. If
you don't, then go walk somewhere else."

Kieran gave a
low growl and stopped, letting her stride away before falling in
with Roth further behind. Talsy smiled and gazed ahead for some
sign of Chanter. Snow squeaked under her feet, and the clear
imprint of the Mujar's boots led her on.

Talsy glanced
around as Sheera fell into step beside her, panting, her face grey
with strain. Concerned, Talsy took her elbow as the old woman
struggled through the deep snow.

"We can slow
down. We don't have to walk this fast."

Sheera waved it
away. "I'm okay," she gasped. "What did you say to Kieran, or
should I say, the Prince?"

Talsy giggled.
"Just asked him about his mother. He hates that."

"Who would have
guessed that he would turn out to be a Prince?"