Dark Foundations (18 page)

“He looks at me and he says, ‘Remember, Jorgio, there is only the thinnest line between fear and lack of faith.'”

Jorgio picked up his mug of tea again and sipped it, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. “So I says, ‘Sir, would I get to come back here?' But all he says is this: ‘I make no such promise. In fact, all I can promise you is—'” He broke off, his eyes seeming far away, his broad brow rippled into a frown. He shook his head. “No, that's private that is—what I saw. And it was what I glimpsed, not what he said.

“‘The request will come in a few days,' he says. ‘You will know it when it comes.' And then he was gone.”

There was a long silence in which Merral could hear the sound of flies buzzing in the warm still air and noise of the animals outside.

“My old friend,” Merral said slowly. “You may as well know . . . I came here to ask you to come to Isterrane with us.”

A succession of intense emotions showed on the jowled face. “When?”

“The four o'clock flight tomorrow.”

“Isterrane? I've never been there.”

“Sentinel Vero has a house—Brenito's old house—that needs some gardening. It's by the sea. You'd be out in the country. We need you nearby. Your visions confirm that.”

“Are there any horses?”

“That,” said Merral, with a smile, “can be arranged.”

Jorgio rose awkwardly to his feet and walked to the nearest skylight, his lurching gait seemingly more evident than ever. There, his head just peering over the frame, he stared out over the Institute grounds. Finally, he turned round and a single, heavy tear dribbled down a cheek.

“I'll come with you,” he said, his words drawn out with reluctance. “I had to choose. And I've made my choice. I don't come happily. The King has offered me a long dark road. But I'll start on it at least.”

That evening Merral went with his family and Lloyd to the reception that Warden Enatus had arranged at Wyrent Park, a broad area of spreading trees, grass, and fountains near the civic offices high on Ynysmant.

It was a typical warm summer's evening. The gritty feel to the air was only slightly allayed by the humidity that rose from the lake. All around the crowds mingled under the trees, ate the food, or just listened to the music.

Enatus had invited everyone who was a relative or friend of Merral, a condition that a surprisingly large number of people seem to feel they fulfilled. Merral didn't mind the numbers; after all, being among several hundred people meant that no one expected him to be with Isabella all the time. In fact, they said very little to each other—mainly forced pleasantries spoken with fixed smiles.

We are both acting a part
. That unhappy thought merely strengthened his resolve to make sure the matter between them ended.

Lloyd, still wearing his jacket and sweating slightly, took up a position under a clump of chestnut trees a few meters away from where Merral stood and tried to look relaxed.

Merral talked with a seemingly endless stream of people before his uncle Barrand came over and embraced him heartily. Feeling encouraged by his uncle's apparent high spirits, Merral expressed his sympathy about the closure of Herrandown.

Barrand shrugged. “Oh, ‘the Lord gives and the Lord takes away; blessed be his name.' No, Nephew, it was a decision that had to be made. But it was made swiftly and done well. So, here we all are. We have a house, praise be. They have even found room nearby for my parents.”

“What are you going to be doing?”

“Me? For the next week or so, putting all the equipment from Herrandown in storage. And then?” A smile crossed his ruddy face. “Ho! We will see what the Lord sends us.”

“I have to say, Uncle, I'm delighted to see you in good heart. The last few times I vis—”

“Ah yes,
that
.” Barrand frowned and moved closer as if to ensure that no one overheard his words. “An odd business that.
Most
odd. And I need to apologize to you. I really do. I have now come to realize that something evil came upon us.” He ran his fingers through the curls of his black beard. “Ho! It took me a long time to realize what was happening. Then I saw that I—
we
—had given in to evil and listened to the lies of the enemy of our souls. So, I fasted and prayed.” He breathed out heavily. “
Ha
. What a battle. But in the end, the mist lifted. And I saw we had been tricked. So I decided to fight against it.” He shook his head. “I wish I had known that evening when the meteor fell . . . the meteor that was really the intruders' ship. Instead, I lied to you.”

“So I gathered. And the rest of the family?”

Barrand stroked his beard. “Ah, well, Elana understands what has happened. The others . . .” His face clouded. “Not so far. But we pray on. Ah, here is Elana now. I know
she
wants to talk to you. But before she does, let me say something.” He edged closer to Merral. “This ‘commander' business you are about now. With a ‘Defense Force,' whatever that looks like. Count me in, if you need people. I may not be the most agile man around, and I doubt I'll ever fit into any spacesuit if you want to attack them up there, but I do have a respectable experience with explosives and cutters. Most respectable.” He gave a hard smile that displayed teeth. “And oh, I have some scores to settle.”

Merral clasped his arm. “Uncle, this is one of the best pieces of news I have heard for days. Fight on. And if we can use you, be assured, we will.”

Barrand gave him a broad wink and slapped him heartily on the back before walking away.

As he saw Elana coming over, her curly blonde hair bobbing as she moved, Merral nervously drew in his breath and felt his hands clench as he remembered their troubling encounter at Herrandown.

As Lloyd suddenly stiffened in response, Merral gestured him to relax.

Elana looked up at Merral with a strained face, and then quickly stared at her feet, her cheeks flushed. “Merral,” she said in a barely audible voice, “can I apologize?”

“Apologies are due on both sides,” he said slowly. He knew that he blushed as well.

She shook her head. “You did nothing wrong. I just want to say how sorry I am. I don't know what came over me. I was desperate. It was wrong. And that's what I wanted to say.”

She lifted her head and Merral saw a look of release in her blue eyes.

“Thanks,” said Merral, “I admire your courage. It was . . . well . . . awkward. . . . Oh, I don't have the words for it.”

Elana colored again, swept a strand of blonde hair from her forehead in embarrassment, and nodded slightly.

“Anyway,” Merral said, “apology accepted. The matter is forgotten.”

“There's something
wrong
in our world, isn't there?”

He nodded.

“More than the Gate going and the intruders coming?”

“Yes, more than that.”

“I think . . . I think it's like an invisible fungus—an evil, slimy fungus that sneaks into your life.”

“That's a fair way of putting it.”

“And it has spores—we did spores in school last month—and they spread and hatch. And it makes you stop praying, takes your eyes off Jesus and makes you want to do what's wrong.” She stopped and seemed to consider something before looking at him with widened pale blue eyes. “Actually that's not right. It doesn't
make
you.
You
do the wrong things. It's a thing that just encourages you to do wrong. It whispers in your ear and you listen.”

“Ah, that is an excellent statement of the way things are.”

“And we have to fight it.” As she said the words, she seemed to bounce on her feet almost as if she wanted to stamp on this invisible fungus. “And, Merral, that's what I shall try and do. My father has realized it too.”

“I know. Fight on, Elana.”

“I will. Thanks.” She smiled and Merral felt that the young girl was back. Then she glanced around, leaned forward on tiptoe, and whispered in his ear. “You aren't going to marry Isabella, are you?”

“Would I tell
you
?”

“No,” she admitted with a smile. “But don't. She's got the fungus. Real bad.”

Then, with all the agility and awkwardness of her age, she slipped away.

After an hour—and what seemed like a hundred conversations—Merral saw Enatus making his way through the crowds toward him.

“Merral,” the little man said, wiping his shiny red forehead and looking at his watch. “Time for our little presentation. It's being imaged so that the whole town will see it. I hope you like the speech. Isabella played a big part in its writing. I was so grateful.”

In the gloom, Merral noticed the sheaf of papers sticking out of the warden's pocket and was suddenly and powerfully struck with a thought.
I could simply ask if the troubling passage is still there and have Enatus delete it
. He considered the idea for a moment before rejecting it.
What I intend will be much more effective and it will teach Isabella a badly needed lesson.

Enatus led him onto a small platform in a corner of the grounds. Merral glanced around, seeing the crowds gathering and Lloyd standing at the extreme left-hand side of the platform where he could watch the crowd. Suddenly he glimpsed Isabella, her face pale and taut under the lights.
She's close to the steps
so she can come up on the platform if invited
.

Enatus tilted his head toward Merral. “To tell you the whole truth, I'm a bit nervous,” he said, in a confiding aside. “I've never done one of these before. We worked hours on the speech. It's hard—very hard—to get the tone just right.” He adjusted his suit, stroked his mustache, mopped his forehead, and stepped into the circle of light and began speaking.

Merral, who had always rather liked Enatus, soon found the speech eroded his goodwill. It was too long, overwritten, and there was far too much in it of one man's “heroism” and too little of the courage and sacrifice of others. Merral felt sure that even if the speech had been in praise of someone else, he would still have loathed it. Nevertheless, as Enatus turned over what seemed to be an interminable succession of pages, he tried to maintain a look of polite if gently embarrassed interest.

Finally, the warden reached the last page and then paused.

Merral held his breath.
Is the passage in?

Beaming, Enatus turned to face him. “We also gather that you are going to be giving us some long-expected and welcome news about the relationship between you and a certain young lady.”

Merral struggled to contain his anger, as amid applause and whistles, Enatus beckoned him forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of our noble town, will you join with me in a round of applause for Merral Stefan D'Avanos, Commander of the Farholme Defense Force and the first hero of Ynysmant.”

The band gave a drumroll. There were wild cheers and waves of clapping. Merral counted to ten, then walked over and embraced Enatus as if they were the oldest and best of friends, before stepping in his turn into the circle of light.

Enatus took the medal, a heavy bronze disk with blue and yellow stripes on the ribbon, and pinned it to his chest. “Hope you like it,” he whispered with his usual confiding geniality. “We got it off a history file. From the Zulu Wars—whatever they were.”

Merral shook hands and stepped forward, raising a hand to still the crowd. He had memorized his words and felt strangely calm. “Friends, relatives, citizens of my hometown, I have little to say tonight. Although I thank Warden Enatus for his fine words, he was overgenerous. As I heard his description of me, I did wonder who he was referring to.” There was easy laughter. “But seriously, all who were at Fallambet Lake Five that day deserve medals and some—sadly—are not alive to receive them.”

Merral paused, letting his words sink in. “In view of what was said about me, I would like to quote the words of the writer of a psalm. In an age when war was usual, rather than unprecedented, he wrote, ‘Do not put your trust in princes, in mortal men, who cannot save. . . . Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord, his God.'” He took a breath. “Were he here today, the psalm writer would, no doubt, have added ‘Don't put your trust in commanders either.' To think too much of people like myself is to slip into idolatry. Our great—and
only
—defense is the Lord of the Assembly.”