The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence (39 page)

Tava-edzen became Darq’s obsession. On the rare occasions he came across the phylarch, and Tava-edzen’s gaze fell upon him, Darq felt a jolt within his flesh. The phylarch’s eyes were so wise, so
there
; they could see right into a har. But nohar would give Darq information about Tava-edzen, so after Darq had been in Nezreka for around two weeks, he decided to undertake some clandestine research of his own.

The best time to conduct investigations was the hour after breakfast, since most hara were then engaged in the first of their daily activities. Because Nezreka was small, it was difficult to get away from others, but fortune threw a coin in Darq’s direction. One morning, the har who ran the butchery asked Darq if he’d mind taking a delivery of meat to a har who lived alone some miles down the mountain. Apparently, this har was some kind of hermit, who had once been part of the community but now preferred to live alone, for whatever reason. Darq agreed to the task, realising he now had free time and, most importantly, time alone.

He rode Follet like a maniac down the perilous mountain road, so that he skidded and stumbled. The colt didn’t appear to mind, being of a somewhat manic nature anyway. Darq followed the instructions he’d been given on how to find the recluse’s cottage. Here, Darq virtually threw the parcel of meat at the rather astonished har who responded to his shouted summons. Without further pause, Darq took off again, this time, not up the main track but on a path that would take him round the side of Nezreka. The one area where the hunters did not venture was the cliff top behind the town. Darq decided this was the place he would start nosing around. He was sure he’d find something of interest there.

The forest, shrouded in snow, was silent. Darq was aware of excitement building within him. He trotted Follet along the edge of the trees, where a narrow path skirted the precipice from which the land swept downwards to his right, in a tumble of cliffs and rocks. He kept in view the skeins of smoke rising from Nezreka’s chimneys. It would not aid his purpose if he got lost. He could feel the season changing around him, the indefinable frisson in the air that spoke of the approach of Natalia, the winter solstice. It was only three weeks away. At that moment, he decided that by Natalia things would be different. Exactly how they would be so, he’d yet to calculate, but he knew it would be good.

A creature that at first Darq took to be a large dog stepped out onto the path some yards ahead of him. He quickly realised it was a wolf. But didn’t wolves travel in packs? Darq reined Follet to a halt, even though the colt didn’t appear to be that concerned about the predator ahead of them. The wolf stared at Darq and Darq stared back. Then the creature yawned and loped off along the path. It seemed like an invitation. Darq chuckled to himself. At last! Something would be revealed to him now; he was sure of it.

At the top of the path, the trees had been cleared in a circle, and here there was a low round building with a thatched roof. It was quite large, and a plait of smoke curled lazily from a chimney in the centre of the roof. At the top of a short flight of steps was a narrow doorway, lined by wooden pillars and topped by a carved lintel. Beside the steps were piles of logs. The glazed windows, which were also round, had shutters over them that were open. Somehar lived here. Another hermit?

Darq dismounted and led Follet forward. There was no sign of life outside the building, but as he drew nearer, he saw there were outbuildings to the far side. One was a stable, and a pony stood looking out of the top half of the door. When it caught sight or scent of Follet, its head went up and its ears pricked. It uttered a whinny; a greeting or a warning. Follet responded with a grunt.

The wolf had climbed the steps to the front door and now stood in front of it, staring back at Darq. In front of the building was a rail, presumably for tethering horses, so Darq tied Follet’s reins to it. He was filled with a wild kind of bravado, almost driven. He ascended the steps and reached down to stroke the wolf’s head. It opened its mouth and its tongue lolled out, as if it was smiling. Darq knocked on the door. There was no response, but he was sure that somehar inside had heard him and was listening. He knocked again. ‘Hello?’ he called.

He did not expect to get an answer, and was considering trying to open the door himself, when it slipped ajar with a creak. He saw part of a face, a dark eye, looking out at him.

‘Hello,’ Darq said again. ‘I’m from Nezreka. Can I come in?’

The door opened wider. ‘You’re early,’ said the har who now stood revealed at the threshold. As Jezinki and Tava-edzen did, he spoke Megalithican like a westerner, with no local accent. He had a strong feminine aspect, which immediately suggested to Darq this was another drudehar of some kind. The har’s hair was loose and dark, hanging to his waist, and he wore a black robe with dark blue embroidery at the hem and cuffs. Around his forehead was a string hung with coins and acorns, and his eyes were lined faintly with kohl. He was pale-skinned and beautiful, exuding an enticing air of magical power; without doubt an adept.

‘Apologies,’ said Darq. He eased himself past this har into the building, following the wolf who clearly regarded this place as home. The room beyond the door was a segment of a circle, narrowing almost to a point, but not quite, suggesting there was an inner chamber. Doors led off to either side, presumably to different segments. The room Darq stood in was a kitchen. The wolf had gone directly to a black iron stove set into the right hand wall of the room and now lay down in front of it to lick his paws.

The dark-haired har closed the door. ‘Well?’ he said.

‘What time was I supposed to come?’ Darq asked.

‘I think in a week’s time.’

Darq shrugged. ‘Oh well, I decided to come now.’ He wondered who he’d been mistaken for and how long this charade could continue before the har realised his mistake and threw Darq out. It was important to make a good impression in that time. He took care to guard his thoughts.

‘You’d better sit down,’ said the har. ‘You don’t know who I am, of course. I am Slinque.’ He indicated a chair next to the stove.

Darq sat down. He wasn’t sure what to say now.

Slinque knelt down before him on a brightly patterned rug and pushed his fingers deep into the wolf’s thick pelt. He observed Darq for some moments, then laughed. ‘It’s quite all right, Darquiel. I know who
you
are!’

Darq blinked. ‘You were expecting
me
?’

Slinque nodded. ‘Yes. We should also have expected you early. An oversight.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m a Weaver, as are my brothers Shayd and Stelph. You’ll meet them soon.’

‘A Weaver…. Somehar spoke to me of you.’ Darq glanced down at the animal at his feet. ‘About the wolves.’

‘We know. You wish to take on the wolf. Perhaps you will. Perhaps you already have.’ Slinque stood up. ‘Would you like tea?’

‘Yes… thank you.’

There was a black kettle keeping warm on the stove. Slinque picked up a cloth to lift it. ‘I know why you’re here,’ he said.

‘You do?’ Darq smiled uncertainly. ‘I’m not sure
I
do.’

Again, Slinque laughed. It was a free, ringing sound, like bells announcing the birth of the sun. He set about pouring Darq a mug of tea and shoveled into it a large spoon of sugar. ‘Here, take this. It’ll warm your spirit.’

Darq accepted the crude pottery mug Slinque offered to him. ‘Thank you.’ The tea was so strong, Darq was sure the spoon could stand up in it. When he sipped it, he tasted wood smoke and cut pine, a strangely resinous tang. It was also very hot and scalded his tongue. ‘Why am I here?’ Darq asked.

‘We’ve been waiting for you,’ said Slinque, ‘from the moment of your birth, terrible though it was.’

‘You know me,’ Darq breathed, and he was filled with both relief and anxiety, which felt very odd.

Slinque sat down opposite him in a chair, and arranged his robes fastidiously over his knees. ‘Yes, we know you. Tava-edzen knows you, much though it pains him. That is, he knows you’re significant to him. We’ve always told him his day would come. He denies it, but part of him mourns all he has lost.’

Darq now felt dizzy. He was so full of questions he didn’t know which to ask first. ‘You’re an oracle,’ he said.

Slinque inclined his head. ‘Yes. That’s one of our functions. All leaders of merit need an oracle, don’t you think?’

‘You’re not Anakhai.’

Slinque shook his head. ‘No. Sulh. In the early days of Megalithica, hara of our tribe were much prized by the Uigenna and the Varrs for our abilities as seers. Many of us found ourselves places close to the phylarchs and archons. My brothers and I came with Tava from the west.’

‘I thought as much.’ Darq couldn’t believe these revelations, so utter and so clear, had been this easy to acquire. ‘Tava-edzen was Varr or Uigenna. Which?’

Slinque rested his chin on one hand. ‘Well, technically all tribes came from the Uigenna. Tava did not survive Megalithica long enough to see that. He was one of the first.’

‘Who was he, Slinque?’

The Sulh was silent for a moment. ‘The name will mean nothing to you. Anyway, it’s his privilege to tell you that. He doesn’t know who you are, by the way, and for now you shouldn’t tell him.’

Darq smiled sourly. ‘He doesn’t speak to me, so it’s not likely. Also, I don’t know myself who I am.’

‘I can tell you.’

‘I know. I sense that. But I’ve been told it’s dangerous for me to know. I think that once I do, all hell will let loose.’

Slinque appeared to be amused. ‘Not here, it won’t.’

‘You
want
to tell me, don’t you?’

‘And now, after all your wondering, you’re afraid. That’s understandable.’ Slinque leaned forward, put his hands together and pointed at Darq with them. ‘We want what is best for Tava. You’re part of his destiny, and he can be part of yours. You want that.’

‘Don’t tell me who I am,’ Darq said abruptly. ‘It’s not the right time.’ At that moment, he felt it was the last thing he wanted to know. He wasn’t sure why.

‘You’re right,’ said Slinque. ‘I’m glad you’re wise, because you could have been stupid.’ He leaned back again. ‘You’re here for many reasons, but only one of them really concerns us. When the time comes, you’ll help Tava-edzen, because he was displaced. He was meant to be a great leader, but another was envious and betrayed him. We believe that the history of Megalithica would have turned out very differently if this betrayal hadn’t happened. The Uigenna and the Varrs ended up being controlled by hara who had not left their humanity far enough behind. If Tava had still been in control, he would have grown as the Gelaming grew, as the Unneah, the Colurastes, the Sulh and the Kakkahaar grew. His chance was stolen, and the result was… chaos. All hara were beasts in the beginning, well, most of them.’ Slinque gestured with both hands. ‘Tava would have died, but for my brothers and I. We found him. We brought him here. The greatest punishment we bestowed upon his enemy was awareness. We opened his mind, gave him visions of what is and what will be. But still…’ He shrugged. ‘That enemy is still in power. Our punishment advanced him, which is ironic, really. It was meant to destroy him. We underestimated him. It’s interesting to us that this seems to be a trait of Wraeththu. The har Ponclast, once reviled as the most evil in the world, was given a similar awareness and now flourishes. His star will rise again, though many would say he doesn’t deserve it. That says something, doesn’t it?’

Darq nodded. ‘Yes, although I don’t know all of what you speak. I’m aware of some of the history, but not all of it. I agree with you about Tava-edzen though. His qualities shine out from him.’

‘He berates himself,’ Slinque said airily. ‘He has too good a memory. But it’s very easy for hara to look back now and be annoyed with themselves for being what they were. The point is that they
had
to begin that way. We believe hara had to learn to advance themselves. If they’d simply been created perfect, it would have meant nothing. Still, Tava will not listen to us. He looks at his hands and sees blood, in the same way that his enemy does.’ Slinque made another two-handed gesture. ‘Oh, they’re no longer enemies, of course. It means nothing now.’

‘Who is his enemy?’ Darq asked. ‘I know hardly anything, so it won’t hurt to tell me.’

Slinque paused. ‘Very well. He is the archon of Maudrah, Ariaric, the Lion of Oomadrah.’

Darq shrugged. ‘See… Means nothing. I’ve heard of Maudrah, of course.’

‘Strange, isn’t it,’ Slinque said pensively. ‘All that history meant so much, but to a second generation har raised in Anakhai, it means nothing. The names are meaningless. It’s how it should be.’

‘Yet you want Tava-edzen to regain power.’

‘Yes. He was meant to have it, for the good of his kind. He knows this.’

Darq took another mouthful of the strange tea. ‘He had a dream about me coming here.’

‘He did. It is no doubt recorded, and laid alongside the sheaf of papers that comprise the letters he’s never sent to Maudrah.’

‘Perhaps if he had sent them, the archon would have had him killed.’

Slinque laughed. ‘That’s unlikely. Ariaric has a shrine to Tava. He has shrines to many hara he wronged or loved in vain. His memory too is very good. But Tava should not rise again through Ariaric. The Lion shouldn’t be given that privilege, which he would dearly love to have. If Ariaric knew Tava was alive and well, he could partly forgive himself, and personally I don’t think that should be allowed. Not yet. Anyway, Tava should rise by himself, or rather with the support of those who are not part of his history.’

Darq put down his mug on the floor. His lips had become slightly numbed. ‘Then it’s true that I’m destined to be a leader?’ he asked.

Slinque nodded. ‘I’m afraid you can’t avoid it, Darquiel. But it
will
be contested.’

Darq frowned. ‘By these strange factions I’ve heard about?’

Slinque grimaced. ‘They’re the least of your worries in a worldly sense. No, by your own kin, mostly.’

Darq was surprised by these words. ‘My parents?’ he snapped.