Wayfarer Redemption - Pilgrim Part 26

"- but SpikeFeather and WingRidge and the entire Lake Guard are searching for it. Believe, EvenSong.

Please."

EvenSong stared into her father's eyes, then shrugged and dropped her own gaze.

"Wait," she said softly. "Very well."

She straightened on her stool and reached for the chime. "I shall have servants prepare you apartments. No doubt you are tired after your long journey north."

206.

Zenith lay awake for long hours that night, staring into the cold blackness of her chamber. There was a candle on the table by her bed, but she preferred not to light it.

Better the darkness, where she could think without distraction. Better the darkness, where no-one could read her thoughts.

StarDrifter. G.o.ds! What could she do?

She trusted him, she loved him, and she even found him s.e.xually appealing (was there a woman alive who did not?) but the thought of actually bedding with him made her stomach heave with repulsion. Over the past three days they had kissed several times, and every time they laid mouth on mouth Zenith had thought she was finally learning to conquer that repulsion. But then his hands would become more demanding, his body harder, and Zenith would panic.

Her hands clenched into the bedclothes, and she stared into the oblivion above her. StarDrifter was being so patient, so kind, so tender - so loving and protective, dammit! He was sure, as she'd been sure, that time and patience would cure the damage WolfStar had wrought.

But in these past wakeful hours Zenith had come to realise that her hesitation about being intimate with StarDrifter had nothing at all to do with WolfStar. True, WolfStar had raped and humiliated her, but that in itself formed no barrier to Zenith's sleeping with StarDrifter. StarDrifter was everything WolfStar was not: kind, patient, gentle. Zenith was well aware that StarDrifter's loving would be a very, very different thing to WolfStar's rape.

But that was not the issue. While she and StarDrifter had been talking with FreeFall and EvenSong, Zenith had finally realised just why she felt so uncomfortable about forming an intimate relationship with StarDrifter.

StarDrifter was her grandfather, and her perception of him as her grandfather was the greatest barrier to being able to perceive, and accept, him as a lover. Zenith had realised, as 207-.

she'd sat about the table with her family this afternoon, that if she and StarDrifter had been lovers, and that if EvenSong and FreeFall had realised it, then she would have been consumed with self-disgust and crippled with humiliation. Sleeping with her grandfather?

No matter that FreeFall and EvenSong would not have felt that way, nor even been able to understand it.

They were first cousins, and had indulged in s.e.xual love since childhood. s.e.xual relations between Icarii grandparents and grandchildren were not forbidden, nor even unknown. G.o.ds! EvenSong and FreeFall probably would have welcomed the news that StarDrifter was bedding Zenith! Zenith and StarDrifter could provide the heir to the throne of Talon that EvenSong and FreeFall were unable to.

At that thought, Zenith's stomach literally did heave, and she rolled onto her side and curled up into a tight ball. Pregnant with StarDrifter's child?

No!

Then Zenith was consumed with self-loathing that she should feel so repulsed by the idea of sleeping with StarDrifter, or bearing his child.

There was no-one to stop them, and no-one to blame them, if they did become lovers. There was nothing to stop Zenith loving StarDrifter except her own prudery!

How could she be so ungrateful?

It was StarDrifter who had believed in her enough to beg Faraday to find her when to all others it seemed as if Niah had conquered her completely. It was StarDrifter who had stood guard the long nights when she and Faraday walked through the shadow-lands, StarDrifter who had no thought of his own safety when he attacked WolfStar in order to protect her in those first vulnerable minutes when she reclaimed her body.

StarDrifter. Always StarDrifter had been there for her. And surely now he deserved some reward?

Something back?

208.

She loved him, so why couldn't she give him what he wanted and had every right to expect?

Because she was ashamed. Disgusted by the idea of taking a grandfather as a lover.

Zenith put her hands to her face and wept.

209.

The Arcness Plains It took time to get thirty thousand odd men and horses to move anywhere save in a forced march or a blind panic, and Zared did not want to do it either way. Ten days after Layon had first appeared with her companions to show the men how to weave their shade cloth from the bark of the goat tree, the army was ready to move.

"North out of the Silent Woman Woods," Zared muttered as he sat his horse, studying the pathway as it wound its way through the trees, "and then west, west, west to Carlon, to see how much of its pink and gold beauty remains."

Leagh sat her fine-boned chestnut mare beside him, glad beyond measure to be moving, but fearing the journey ahead. She wished she still had Zenith here for company. She smiled to herself. How could she lack for company in this twenty-thousand strong army? And the man she loved more than any other person beside her day and night?

But it would be better, she thought, if she could have the empathy of a sister-companion.

For an instant her hand touched her belly, but she moved it back to the rein immediately. Best not to think about that. Not now.

Zared turned his horse and studied the ranks of men stretching into the distance behind him. Every horseman had * 210 .

a large roll of the goat tree cloth strapped to the cantle of his saddle. Pack horses further back carried poles gleaned from dead wood and what the trees of the forest had been prepared to give them. There were far fewer poles than men, but each pole could take the corners of four cloths, and there would be enough to set up shelter.

Among his entire command, only the members of the Strike Force were not burdened with any cloth. It was too weighty for them to carry, but there was enough shade for them to shelter with the ground units when they needed to.

What they would have to do, Zared thought, was practice raising poles and cloth as quickly as possible. He decided that for the first few days they would have to stop well before one of the Demons was due to spread his or her horror to give them enough time to erect their safety.

He raised his eyebrows at Theod and, just behind him, his captain of the guard, Gustus. Both men nodded.

The Strike Force was already lining the forest path, ready to take to the skies.

Zared swung his horse back to the empty path and raised his hand, about to signal the march . . .

. . . and stopped, his hand suspended mid-air, amazed.

Standing on the path before him were the two white donkeys, gazing placidly at him, their long white ears flopping every which way over their narrow, bony skulls.

After the donkeys had kicked their way clear of the traces when Faraday had tried to harness them to the cart, they had disappeared into the forest. All presumed they'd wanted to resume their meandering.

The donkeys blinked, snorted, then turned and trotted up the path. One paused just long enough to send an enquiring glance Zared's way.

He shrugged, and waved his hand. "Forward!" he whispered, then collected himself. "Forward!"

The army slowly snaked its way north through the Silent Woman Woods, led by two white donkeys, covered from the 211.air by the Strike Force, and watched by an invisible Isfrael crouched among the branches of an everheart tree.

They reached the edge of the woods by mid-morning.

Beyond the trees, tempest reigned in the swirling grey miasma of Barzula's hour.

There was no storm as such - no roiling winds nor gusting hail - but merely the overwhelming impression of a tempest waiting, waiting with gleaming teeth, to plunge into the mind and sanity of everyone foolish enough to dare the open s.p.a.ces.

Tendrils of the grey haze drifted through the air, clinging to everything it could find.

"G.o.ds," Leagh whispered by Zared's side. "It's sickening! How will we manage to survive that?"

"It is not too late to turn back now," Zared said. "If you wish you can stay here."

He shifted his eyes to all within hearing distance. "I would not begrudge anyone a fear that would not let them leave these Woods."

Men stared back at him, but all stayed their ground.

Leagh shook her head slightly. I will stay with you, her eyes said.

Zared nodded to himself, satisfied, and turned his face back to the exposed landscape. He hoped to every G.o.d in existence that Drago knew what he was saying when he swore shade would protect them from this.

Once the miasma had dissipated, Zared waved his column forwards. The Strike Force wheeling overhead, they rode silently out from the Woods into a desolate landscape.

The two white donkeys trotted some ten paces in front of the army, their ears flopping with irritating cheerfulness. But Zared, Leagh, and every man and Icarii within the force, was sickened by the sight that met their eyes, just as Faraday and Drago had been. The lush Arcness Plains had been ravaged into a desiccated landscape, swept with the 212.

cold winds of Snow-month and left hopeless with the touch of the Demons. Bones lay scattered everywhere across the cracked earth. "We will be lucky indeed to find water in this desert," Herme said, pulling his horse up beside Zared's.

Zared nodded. "Pa.s.s the word back. We drink enough to sustain us. No more."

A movement to his left caught his eye. Something crawled out of a crack, scuttled several paces, and dropped into another crack.

Zared narrowed his eyes, peering as hard as he could, but he could not make it out.

"Another one!" Leagh cried, pointing to a movement directly in front of them.

It stayed above ground long enough to be recognised .. . partly. This one was a lizard of the variety that could normally be found hunting gra.s.shoppers through the gra.s.slands. But was it hunting gra.s.shoppers now?

Zared quietly sent back the order to stand ready. They'd barely been out of the Woods a half-hour - was it going to be like this the entire way to Carlon? Riding heart in mouth, expecting attack by lizards and mice and sundry other insects and rodents?

Suddenly Leagh cried out. Her horse shied violently to one side, crashing into Zared's mount, and almost throwing Zared to the ground.

He steadied himself, and grabbed at Leagh, making sure she was all right.

She nodded, her face tight, and they both looked down on the ground.

There were two lizards there, each half out of a crack in the earth, each tugging at what remained of a baby's head.

Leagh gagged, and turned away.

"Ride on!" Zared ordered, his eyes hard, and the column wheeled to the left to avoid the lizards.

213 *

Ahead, the donkeys started forward from where they'd been waiting patiently.

Zared held his horse back for a moment, then spurred it forward, crushing both lizards and the infant's head beneath its hooves.

They rode through the late morning, past noon, and into the early afternoon. Zared pushed his men and horses as fast as he could, and yet not so fast they would be forced to consume too much water.

The landscape did not change. The plains were stripped of gra.s.s back to the red, drifting earth. Cracks zigzagged as far as the horizon.

"And this is the depths of winter!" Leagh said to Zared. "Imagine what it will be like next summer."

Zared did not answer for a moment, and when he did speak, he kept his eyes straight ahead. "If we have not won out against these Demons by next summer, then I doubt we shall be here to endure its horror."

Pray Drago finds this Sanctuary, Leagh thought. Pray all the G.o.ds of creation he finds it soon. Yet even that thought did not comfort her. Unless this promised Sanctuary sat smack in the centre of Tencendor, then it would be nigh impossible to manage to evacuate all of the nation's peoples into its safety.

And how does one evacuate a nation? Leagh wondered. How, if we must travel through this kind of wasteland?

An hour after noon, the two donkeys abruptly halted, swung about, and stared at Zared.

He reined in his horse, returned the donkeys' stare briefly, then called a halt.

"Mid-afternoon draws nigh," he said, and spoke to Herme. "Quick! The shelters!"

Herme turned without answering, and spoke urgently to the lieutenants and captains behind him.

The army had practiced this manoeuvre a score of times while in the Silent Woman Woods, but out here, so 214.

vulnerable, nervousness and haste made for thickened fingers. The Strike Force dropped out of the sky, helping where they could, but even their normally implacable temperaments were disturbed, and their agile fingers awkward.

Zared sat his horse, watching the sky, the horizon, anything, for some sign that Sheol's time approached.

The scouts had previously announced that the grey miasma swept over the land in the blink of an eye . . .

was there no warning? What if his sense of time was out and they all died in madness while still erecting their pavilions?

The donkeys slowly walked back towards the army.

"Zared, movel" Leagh said behind him, and jolted out of his thoughts, Zared swung his horse about, casting his gaze over the army behind him.

The column of men and horses had rearranged itself into a vastly different formation of seventy-five squares. Each square comprised several hundred men and horses, and each man had unrolled his shade cloth and attached it to those of his neighbours with poles that were shared about. Seventy-five squares of shade.

What happened if a storm hit, as was likely at this time of the year? What if the Demons saw these tempting squares, and blew a tempest down upon them?

"G.o.ds' help you, Drago," Zared muttered, "if this isn't enough!"

He swung down from his horse, unrolled his own length of shade, and helped Leagh attach it into the square they were a.s.signed to.

He glanced anxiously about. "Herme? Theod? Gustus?"

Each man reported in. The squares were up. Everyone was under.

"Then we wait," Zared said. "And watch."