The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence (37 page)

Darq was not convinced that Ookami’s deductions were correct; he believed they were colored by the Ikutama’s fury and shame. He had not revealed much to Ookami of what Zu had said, because he knew Ookami would at the very least disapprove and disagree. Darq knew that Ookami would be right to do so too, which threatened to shatter the rather fond fantasies he had begun to concoct in his head. As they rode though these ancient lands that breathed in relief and spread their glory in the wake of human passing, Darq found it hard to credit that shadowy factions were competing to control Wraeththu. Perhaps it was true in places like Almagabra and Megalithica, but here…? It seemed unlikely. Still, it was pleasant to imagine himself a king, issuing just decrees and having hara look up to him. He felt slightly perplexed about these daydreams, since he didn’t usually much care for idealism.

In the days of human occupation, Anakhai had been a landlocked country, some of whose sister lands to the east were next to the coast of an inland body of water now known as the Sea of Shadows. The lands around this sea formed Jaddayoth. Between Jaddayoth and Anakhai lay the land of Thaine in the north, Florinada in the southwest, and Huldah in the southeast; the boundaries between these lands were vague. Some hara, living on what could be regarded as the borders, spoke of themselves as Thainish in one village, then Anakhai in a village two miles down the road. The Anakhai had phyles and phylarchs, like any other tribe, but it seemed their government was loose. Each local phylarch operated a benevolent kind of feudalism within his territory.

Ookami intimated to Darq it would be best if they skirted Jaddayoth, since the harish populations were higher there and many were in contact with, if not allies of, Almagabra. Although Darq was interested to see what Jaddayoth might be like, he also enjoyed traveling through Anakhai – which in itself was a vast country – so did not object. ‘We’ll visit the Carvanzya Range of Thaine,’ Ookami said. ‘They’re haunted mountains and you’ll like them. Humans believed that paranormal creatures lived there, like vampires and werewolves.’

‘Sounds great,’ Darq agreed. He wondered if there was any possibility he could come face to face with a vampire.

The further they traveled east, so the more primal the land seemed to become. Darq felt it had a definite personality, watchful and brooding, but given to occasional spurts of exuberance. He began to sense once more shadow riders among the trees in the dense forests they rode through. He was unsure if they were the same ones from back home in Samway, or just of the same type. They did not show themselves to him, but were flickering presences at the edge of his perception, and Darq was well aware how Zu had once used them to try and summon him.

Summer had faded into autumn, bringing with it that wild, hopeful yet melancholy aspect that is the spirit of the season. Darq and Ookami had celebrated Smoketide with a local community, and now as Shadetide approached and the weather drew in its limbs, Ookami wondered whether they should consider settling in one place for the winter.

‘We’re far from what hara would call civilization here,’ he said. ‘These are the forgotten lands, and are all the better for it.’

‘If you think it’s safe to stay somewhere, then it will be,’ Darq said. ‘I’d like to stay in the mountains.’

Ookami laughed. ‘The weather will be harsh.’

‘I don’t mind.’

Darq and Ookami came upon Nezreka late one afternoon. They were following a fairly well-defined if little-used thoroughfare through a mountain forest, close to the border with Thaine. Dusk was stealing in and orange leaves swirled in the air.  The road beneath the horses’ hooves was treacherous and slippery with sodden leaves, and the air smelled tartly of the harsh season to come; a scent of frost and pine drifted down from the higher slopes.  Darq and Ookami were riding in silence, Darq almost dozing in his saddle. Soon, they would find a place to camp for the night. Perhaps they would knock upon the door of an isolated cottage where lamps burned inside; the archetypal symbol of welcome and respite for travelers.

Darq was brought to full wakefulness by the fact that Ookami had brought his horse to a halt. He was staring intently at the trees to their right.

‘What is it?’ Darq asked.

‘There are wards in the trees,’ Ookami replied. He dismounted and went to the side of the road, peering intently into the shadowy depths of the forest.

Darq walked Follet over to him. ‘Wards? What against?’

‘Wards of concealment,’ Ookami replied. He turned to Darq and smiled. ‘And there’s a hidden track leading up the mountain here. I believe there’s a settlement nearby, but a veiled one.’

‘Perfect,’ Darq said, grinning. ‘Let’s find it.’

‘We could take a look,’ Ookami said. ‘I like the idea of a hidden settlement. It’d be a good place for us – if the hara there are welcoming. That depends on their reasons for hiding their home, I suppose.’ He remounted his horse and urged it into what appeared to be dense foliage, but it was merely a screen of ferns that parted like a curtain before him. Beyond lay a narrow trail, heading into darkness.

‘Like a ghost story,’ Darq said. ‘We’re going to find something intriguing, I sense it.’

Darq and Ookami followed the trail, which led upwards between broad leaf trees. After half an hour or so, they came to a deep pass, where dark cliffs loomed over the path. Here, the horses’ hoof-beats echoed eerily.  There was no sign of life and all was silent. Darq’s flesh prickled in a pleasurable way. The idea of a hidden settlement was appealing to him. He sensed a secret, a feeling that built in him slowly as he and Ookami traveled further from the road they’d left behind.

At the end of the pass, the path opened out slightly to reveal a high wooden wall, constructed of split pine trunks, the tips of which were carved into points. Ookami and Darq had come across few Anakhai settlements that were walled. The thick wooden gates were covered in stylised carvings of what appeared to be animal totems. Upon it was inscribed the word Nezreka.  Atop the wooden palisades, guards could be seen, none of whom, Darq thought, would be able to speak Megalithican. He and Ookami had picked up a smattering of Anakhai but, as once they’d been told by a Megalithican har they’d met, who had lived in Anakhai for over a decade, the language was so complex it was very difficult to speak it fluently. It might take a lifetime to learn it. The guards stood motionless and stared down with stern expressions.

Ookami called up to them, repeating the simple phrases he had learned concerning the availability of food and lodging. The only word he received in response was ‘no’. He turned to Darq. ‘The sun has all but set. I think we should go back down the pass. There were homesteads some miles back on the main track. We’re wasting our time here.’

‘This is where I want to stay,’ Darq said. He urged Follet forward and gazed up at the guards. He saw only their expressionless faces shadowed by wide-brimmed hats. The guards carried spears with strangely ornate steel blades at their tips. They were quite beautiful weapons, in fact. ‘Tiahaara,’ Darq called. ‘We wish to speak with your phylarch. We carry news.’

Ookami sighed deeply. ‘Darq…’

Darq ignored him. He projected with all of his will a sense of curiosity into the guards, so that when they looked down at him they would see a secret as delicious as the one they no doubt concealed behind their walls. For some moments, the guards stared at him silently, then they conferred. One called down a word that Darq recognised as ‘wait’. He glanced at Ookami, who raised his eyebrows.

The word ‘wait’ was not an exaggeration, since it took over twenty minutes for any further exchange to take place, by which time it was dark. Ookami tried to suggest that perhaps they should leave, but after Darq’s insistent refusal, held his tongue. Darq felt a brush of mind touch and was warmed by it; Ookami trusted Darq’s instincts. The Ikutama too felt there was something significant about this place.

Eventually Darq felt a shiver of scrutiny steal through his skin. It was like a fan of light coursing down his body and he guessed that somehar of considerable psychic ability within Nezreka was scanning them. Eventually, a har wearing a dark hooded cloak appeared on the palisade. He called down, ‘You!’ in Megalithican.

‘You speak our language?’ Darq called back.

‘We do not welcome strangers here,’ said the har.

‘We wish to speak to your phylarch,’ Darq said. ‘We pose no threat, as you know, since you scanned us.’

The har said nothing to this, but disappeared from view. Presently, the gates creaked open a short way and he came through them. ‘What do you want with us?’ he asked. He wore a long indigo-colored robe and many glittering rings upon his hands, where the fingernails were long. His face was long and bony, and strangely weathered for a har. Dusty-looking, fair plaits hung over his chest to his waist.

‘I wish to speak with your phylarch,’ Darq said.

‘Our phylarch doesn’t receive visits from strangers,’ said the har. ‘That is my function. What do you want?’

Darq was now completely at a loss. He’d said they had news, but what could he make up that might possibly interest these reclusive hara? While his mind worked frantically to formulate a plan, Ookami urged his horse forward.

‘Tiahaar, there are strange processes in motion, which will affect even these faraway corners of the world,’ Ookami said. ‘It would be best to arm yourself with knowledge.’

‘And you have taken it upon yourself to impart this knowledge,’ said the Nezreka sourly. He folded his arms. ‘Which tribe do you represent? Who seeks our allegiance?’

‘Many would no doubt seek your allegiance,’ Ookami said, ‘but we represent none of them. We’re travelers, and to be honest with you, we seek a safe haven for the winter, but we’re willing to barter with what we know for lodging.’

The har smiled a little and inclined his head. ‘If that is truth, I respect your honesty, tiahaar. But we’re a private community. There are many settlements – woodshara and trappers – who would offer you shelter. I’d be happy to give you directions to find them.’

Now Darq spoke up. ‘It’s important I have security,’ he said. ‘That’s why we wish to stay here, since it’s obvious this settlement is secure.’

The Nezreka raised his eyebrows. ‘Indeed? And will you be so honest as to tell me why you need that?’

Darq knew he should perhaps glance at Ookami to find out what he thought of that request, or even attempt a brief deep mind touch, but he felt sure the Nezreka would sense that, and any hesitation on his part would look suspicious. He took a breath. ‘I don’t know my parentage,’ he said, ‘but it’s been made known to me that certain factions have an interest in me. I’m interested only in remaining apart from such matters. This is why we’re traveling.’

Darq could see he had pricked the Nezreka’s curiosity now, but perhaps not in the best way. ‘If that is so, I sympathise with your predicament,’ the Nezreka said, ‘but it’s not our way to attract attention to ourselves. In my view, you would be equally safe among the forest phyles.’

‘I know this is where I’m supposed to be,’ Darq insisted. ‘I won’t leave until you let me speak to your phylarch.’

The Nezreka laughed. ‘You are young,’ he said, ‘and autocratic. What are you; some by-blow of Maudrah? You have no authority here, tiahaar. Our phylarch would not be interested in you.’

‘Shouldn’t you let him be the judge of that?’ Darq said. By now, he could feel Ookami’s attention, focused like a dart, warning him to be cautious. The Nezreka was being friendly, to the extent of actually having this conversation, but he still had an unknown number of armed hara stationed upon the walls behind him, and if his tolerance of the situation wore thin, things could get sticky.

‘Tiahaar,’ Ookami said, ‘we respectfully request you ask your phylarch if he would speak to us, and grant us shelter until Bloomtide, perhaps sooner than that. It’s all we ask. If he himself says no, we will depart.’

‘You have great faith he’ll grant you an audience,’ said the Nezreka, and there was a tone in his voice that suggested perhaps they weren’t wrong.

‘Please, tiahaar,’ Darq said, projecting into the words every shred of intention he possessed, as well as a sense of helplessness and need.

‘Very well,’ said the Nezreka. ‘Wait here. I’ll have refreshment sent out to you. We might be a private community, but we’re not inhospitable to those in need.’

‘Thank you,’ Darq said. ‘Really… thank you.’

The Nezreka went back into the settlement and the gates closed behind him. Ookami chuckled.

‘What?’ Darq asked.

Ookami shook his head. ‘Sometimes, my friend, it pays to be different, and for that difference to shine from your face.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He fell beneath your enchantment, that’s all. I can say for certain that normally that Nezreka we met takes pleasure in turning hara away from here, whatever their reason for calling. It’s one of the joys of his job.’

Presently, two hara wearing loose trousers and long embroidered tunics of russet cloth came out of the gates carrying baskets. These contained a fairly sumptuous meal of dried sausage, dark bread, hard-boiled eggs, a slab of butter so hard it was like set wax, and a covered jug of sweet milk. The hara could not speak Megalithican, and were clearly reluctant to communicate in mind touch, but stood to the side and observed Darq and Ookami consume the food. Like the spokeshar, their hair was long and fair, but somehow dusty, as if they put some substance into it to make it look that way. Darq liked their appearance. Their mouths were wide and thin-lipped, but when they smiled at each other, it made lines in their cheeks. They weren’t innocent, like the other hara of Anakhai had seemed so far. They were wry, cautious, and wiry like wolves. As Darq chewed his food, the image of wolves came to him more strongly. He knew then without question: this was one of the secrets of the tribe. The carvings on the gates were of lupine faces, and these hara were like wolves; slinking, suspicious, alert, yet as close as brothers in a pack would be. Weren’t these mountains soaked in folklore about wolves who were really men? Could there be such a thing as were-hara? The thought made him smile. He wished it could be true, although he knew the explanation would be far more prosaic than that.