Scatterlings Page 11

  ‘They could not accuse Aran of anything because he would have the right to demand public mindbond, as a soon-to-be-warden, and that would make their own thoughts public. Even if they believed him a traitor, they would not admit it openly. Aran must be warned to watch his back from now on. How did you get mixed up with him?’

  ‘It’s a long story. They found out I didn’t belong to the clan I had told them. Aran’s servant brought me to him, but when I mentioned you and the scatterlings, Meer made it obvious neither of them believed in the Offering. Then this servant turned out to be some sort of rebel. He said he knew you and Era.’

  ‘Bors,’ Ford said, half to himself. ‘But you said Aran offered to help the rebels. He told this to Bors?’

  Merlin nodded. ‘Something he had overheard stopped him believing in the Offering,’ Merlin said. ‘Meer wanted to run away and join you, but Bors told him he could help you better from the inside, as a warden.’

  Ford shook his head. ‘It is hard to believe Aran would risk warden status for us. Bors told him he was a rebel?’

  Merlin nodded. ‘Bors said he said he trusted Aran but that Aran would need approval from someone else before he could meet the other rebels,’ she said.

  ‘Bramble is careful,’ Ford said with a glimmer of laughter. Merlin remembered this name had been mentioned by Sear when she was with the scatterlings. It seemed Bramble was a secret contact within the Valley. ‘I wish I could be there when those two meet face to face. That will be a shock to poor Aran. You say Meer was with Aran when Delpha came?’

  Merlin nodded and Ford smiled reminiscently. He did not look as if he were thinking about his sister. Merlin wondered if sister and brother meant related by blood among the clan-people. Aran and Meer behaved like lovers, but both claimed Ford as brother. And there was no mention of mother and father. She shook her head. She could ponder on the intricacies of clan society later.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  Ford chewed his lip. ‘The influence of a warden would be a gift from the gods . . . If I could be sure about Aran . . .’ He frowned. ‘Well, I will decide what to do about this later. We have to get out of here.’

  This was accomplished with unexpected ease. Apart from the barred door, there were no other security measures. Danna led her through a door concealed behind a trundle bed in one of the rooms. The temple door was unguarded since those Offered had nowhere else to go. Those who changed their mind generally did so by throwing themselves in the bottomless well. This proved to be a deep, narrow cleft in one of the temple chambers.

  Grinning, Ford told her to drop a scrap of cloth into the well. A breeze blowing up from the gap suggested the chasm led to some sort of subterranean passage. The scrap of golden silk snagged neatly a short way down. Ford explained this would convince the wardens she had taken the swift way out of her dilemma. Catching sight of the finery she wore underneath the rough cloak, his eyes widened.

  ‘Well, you certainly know how to take care of yourself, don’t you? Fallon silk, if I’m not mistaken?’

  Merlin couldn’t help smiling at his look. His cheer was infectious and she felt less gloomy about her own fate, though she was sorry Danna had refused to come with them.

  ‘The kid’s got a death-wish,’ Ford said callously when she voiced her regret.

  ‘Perhaps I have a death-wish,’ the long-silent William whispered, startling Merlin. Both the William voice and her mechanical advisor had spoken to her less since she had come to the Valley, as if the new knowledge she gained left no room for them. She felt a queer stab of fear at the thought of losing the voices for they were her sole link with her previous existence.

  ‘Isn’t this risky?’ Merlin asked as Ford led her boldly out through the front door of the temple. ‘What if someone recognises me?’

  ‘Don’t think about it,’ Ford said imperturbably.

  ‘Why are we going back into the Valley? I thought you said there was a tunnel in the back of the temple. I suppose you want to pick up some Fallon silk too?’ she enquired.

  Ford leered at her humorously, then his expression changed. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m going to see Aran.’

  ‘What!’ Merlin was aghast. ‘But we can’t. Even if he is telling the truth about wanting to help, you’ll get him into terrible trouble if I’m seen there. And this Delpha . . .’

  ‘I know Delpha,’ Ford said so grimly she was silenced.

  In fact, it was unlikely they would be noticed. The crowds who had surrounded the temple and pool had long since departed, and the Lord wardens’ table was empty. The trading area was still brightly lit and barter was apparently good for there were hundreds of people milling about.

  ‘Most of the people will be there,’ Ford said as they hurried along the dark path back to the tented area. Many of the torches that had lit the path previously were burnt out and those that remained were blown to a frail blue flicker by a cold rising breeze. Merlin pulled her cloak around her. Ford wore no more than a coarse cloak and loin cloth, yet seemed impervious to the chill in the air.

  ‘Do you remember where the Fallon tents were?’ he asked in a low voice as they approached the tent sleeping area. There was no one in sight and the wind flapped at the tents, snapping cloth and blowing a fine hail of sand into their faces. Merlin squinted against the onslaught.

  ’There.’ She pointed. ‘The tent they took me to is on the far side. But what if they’re not there? What if they’re not alone?’

  ‘We’ll worry about that when we get there.’

  ‘What if Delpha . . .?’ Merlin began, but Ford made an impatient chopping motion with his fingers. They made their way through the tents in silence until Merlin saw the tent Bors had brought her to, just before Aran had arrived with Meer.

  ‘This can’t be Aran’s tent. It’s too plain. His taste runs to the ornate.’

  Merlin remembered Bors’ look of surprise when Aran had entered the tent. ‘Bors brought me here. Maybe it was his tent.’

  ‘Well, well. What have we here? An escaped criminal flown to Meer’s tent like a homing bird?’

  Merlin swung round in horror.

  Delpha lifted a purple silk-clad arm, painted eyes widening at the sight of Ford. ‘And you! How did you get past the gate-guards, I wonder, scatterling?’

  9

  ‘It would be a mistake to call the guards,’ Ford said.

  Delpha paused in the act of crying out, apparently struck by the lack of fear in Ford’s voice. ‘A mistake for you, certainly.’

  Ford smiled and Delpha’s smugness evaporated. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Only that I would tell them I came to meet you, and that you had been helping us for a long time, but that your hunger to be a warden overrode everything. I would tell them you arranged to have me meet you here in a second attempt to implicate Aran.’

  ‘But this is Meer’s tent,’ Delpha sneered. ‘Why would I meet you here?’

  ‘You are very clever. I would let the warden understand that you dared not make Aran look too much of a fool. Especially after you failed to have him charged tonight. Only a fool would meet a rebel in his own tent. You told me to meet you here, and then you called the guards to expose your plot. I would be full of outrage at your betrayal. I would tell them everything.’

  ‘You would not be believed,’ Delpha snarled.

  Ford smiled. ‘I would be very convincing. First I would refuse to talk, and when they tortured me, just a little, I would sing like a bird.’

  ’I would demand mindbond!’

  ‘Would you? From what I hear, the Lord wardens are none too keen on the revealing of mindbond these days. I daresay they would find it simpler to kill us both.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘This is a bluff,’ Delpha said finally.

  ‘Then call it,’ Ford retorted. ‘But remember, mud sticks. You ought to know that better than anyone.’

  There was another silence. Indecision showed clearly on Delpha’s thin features. ‘What do yo
u expect me to do?’ he hissed, golden eyes blazing with malice.

  ‘Go about your business, Delpha. Forget you’ve seen me here,’ Ford commanded imperiously.

  Delpha’s face suffused with angry colour. Then his expression cleared. ‘Very well.’ He turned to depart.

  Merlin felt immediately uneasy at his swift capitulation.

  ‘Oh, Delpha?’ Ford called.

  The dark man looked over his shoulder, his hooded eyes in shadow.

  ‘Don’t get any ideas about organising some accidental discovery of us,’ Ford said smoothly. ‘I promise you, if the guards come, I’ll drag you into the whole thing. I’m very inventive. By the time I’ve finished, they’ll be hungry to execute you alongside me.’

  Delpha glared at Ford and Merlin saw this was exactly what he had intended.

  ‘You’ll barter for this,’ Delpha snarled. ‘My oath on it.’

  ‘Your oath is dung,’ Ford said icily.

  ‘Do you think he’ll do anything?’ Merlin asked when he had gone.

  The smugness faded from Ford’s features. ‘I don’t know. But I’ll have to see Aran away from here. And I must warn him about Delpha.’

  ’Then you believe he meant what he said about helping you?’

  Ford nodded. ‘Delpha just convinced me.’

  The sound of footsteps outside made them freeze. The tent flap swung open. It was Bors.

  ‘Ford!’ he cried. ‘You are early!’ His eyes widened as he noticed Merlin. ‘So, you spoke the truth.’ He looked back at Ford. ‘Why did you bring her here? Delpha must not see you here of all places . . .’

  ‘He has already been here.’

  Bors paled. ‘But . . .’

  Ford slapped him on the back. ‘It’s all right. I threatened to implicate him if he reported me. I don’t know how long that will hold. I must talk to Aran. Can you get him to meet me somewhere away from here?’

  ‘She told you, then?’ Bors asked.

  Ford nodded. ‘You believe he is truly converted?’

  ‘It was only a matter of time,’ Bors said. ‘I’ll bring him to you. Go to Gawlor’s tents. They’re nearest the temple this year. I’ll bring Aran there. And Meer. She longs to see you.’

  Ford smiled in a distinctly unbrotherly manner and Merlin felt irritated. It was hardly the time for a romantic interlude. And besides, weren’t they brother and sister?

  ‘Are we going?’ she asked crossly.

  Gawlor’s tents proved less glamorous than Fallon’s, as workaday as the burly Bors. Without hesitation, Ford led her to a small storage tent where he said they would wait. It was almost morning before Aran came. Bors was with him, but not Meer.

  Aran and Ford stared at one another, seeming uncertain how to begin.

  ‘You look well, Ford, though you dress like the Hill Region savages,’ Aran said.

  ’And you look as pretty as ever, brother,’ Ford grinned.

  Aran responded with a sheepish smile.

  ‘That must be why they are thinking of making you a warden.’

  Aran shook his head. ‘Once I would have been proud. Then, I honoured the wardens. I don’t know how you came to be here, but I’m glad. Will you let me help you?’

  ‘We need all the help we can get. How far are you prepared to go?’

  ‘As far as is needed,’ Aran said grimly. ‘I was a fool not to see the truth before now. Maybe worse than a fool.’

  ‘I won’t say no to that,’ Ford said.

  Aran looked at him sharply, then laughed. ‘Same old Ford. You look older,’ he added soberly.

  ‘I am,’ Ford said, equally serious. ‘It’s a hard life. I’m glad you talked Meer out of it. You and she have made a match of it?’

  Aran reddened. ‘I . . .’

  Ford shook his head dismissively. ‘Times move on. This is her tent, where is she?’

  ‘Feasting. I did not tell her you were here. She will be angry with me, but I fear for her. She is too headstrong for good sense.’

  Ford smiled, and it seemed to Merlin there was a flicker of sadness in his face. ‘It would take someone as devious as you to let her think she has her head.’

  Bors coughed. ‘Aran, you should not stay here too long. Delpha the snake will notice your absence and wonder.’

  Aran nodded. ‘He is right, Ford. What can I do to help the rebels?’

  Ford turned to Bors. ‘How long before you can organise a meeting with Bramble and the others?’

  ‘Tomorrow night, as luck would have it, but you will have to stay out of sight until then, for all our sakes,’ Bors said. ‘You will need to vouch for Aran before Bramble will agree to mindbond with a warden-to-be, and they will not accept him as one of us until he has mindbonded.’

  ‘Why can’t you vouch for him?’

  Bors smiled sheepishly. ‘Bramble thinks I am too partisan. I have spent too much time trying to persuade them he would join us if we showed him proof. Even now they will have none of him until you came to speak for him. I thought we would have a long wait.’

  Aran gave the big man a gratified look.

  ‘Was she pleased at the thought of having a rebel warden?’ Ford asked.

  Bors smiled. ‘I think you will find Bramble has much to tell you, but I will leave that to your meeting.’

  Aran shook his head. ‘I had no idea this rebellion was so organised. And who is this Bramble?’

  ‘Identities will be exchanged later. You will be a real asset to us, Aran,’ Ford said. ‘I am glad you have joined us.’

  Aran shook his head in wonder. ‘I remember you as a dreamer . . .’

  ‘I’m still a dreamer, Aran. I dream now of the defeat of the Citizen gods and the freeing of our people. And when that is accomplished, I will find a new dream.’

  Aran looked at Merlin. ‘How does she come into this? Did she tell you what the Rememberer said at the judging?’

  Ford nodded. ‘I know what the Rememberers say of her, but I do not think they read their visions clearly enough yet. Our leader, Sear, thinks her coming is a sign of luck and a signal.’

  Aran looked at Merlin. ‘Did you tell him the rest?’

  Merlin nodded. ‘But I don’t understand how it is with the Rememberers. If they can see so much, how come they can’t see that the Offering is a lie?’

  Ford looked pensive. ‘The Rememberers don’t cleave to any law but their own. They see things on a broader scale. Marthe knows from her visions that the Citizen gods lie, but she says the Rememberers do not interfere with what is to come. I think they have purposes too deep for ordinary folk.’

  ‘I’m not sure I understand that,’ Merlin said in a troubled voice.

  ‘Well, you can ask Marthe yourself since you’ll be coming back with me,’ Ford said.

  ‘Will you go?’ Aran asked Merlin.

  ‘I can’t stay here now, or the wardens will hand me over to the Citizen gods,’ Merlin said tiredly. ‘I have no choice but to take refuge with the scatterlings. But I mean to find out the truth about myself. Whatever it takes, I must.’

  Merlin realised the truth of her words even as she spoke. She had tried to make herself believe it was enough to find a new life, but now she saw that until she understood her own past, she could have no future. She would go with Ford until she decided what to do next.

  After Bors and Aran had gone, both Merlin and Ford slept what little remained of the night. The following day was long and tedious. To Merlin’s annoyance, Ford slept most of the time, snoring occasionally and waking to wolf down the food and drink Bors brought them. He seemed preoccupied and disinclined to talk. Merlin was sorely tempted to slip out of the tent and away from Ford and the rebels and their plots, but she knew she needed Ford to get her out of the Valley. She was not sure if the gate-guardians had her mindprint yet, but they certainly knew what she looked like.

  She thought over all that had happened but without coming up with any new answers or ideas. Finally she slept too, and was wakened after midnight by Ford, who behaved as if she
and not he had slept the day away.

  Bors whispered that they should both pull up their hoods. Merlin was to walk with him, head bowed as if she were very old or blind. Bors feared that someone would recognise her from the Lord wardens’ judging. Ford was to come a little behind them, so that he could go for help if anything went wrong.

  Merlin had thought Bors would lead them somewhere quiet, but instead he took them into the heart of the bustling stalls, crowded with buyers and sellers and flickering orange torch flames lighting wares and faces.

  Merlin dared not do more than peep up occasionally, in case someone saw her face, but she could see they were headed for the rowdiest beer tent she had passed the previous day. Sure enough, Bors led her through the drunken, noisy throng, shoving aside a fat songster to enter the crowded beer tent, a huge dark cavern open all along one side and lit by too few lanterns.

  Bors went to a flap behind the beer seller, who did not seem to notice him pass, and suddenly it was quiet and very dark. Merlin blinked, trying to accustom her eyes to the dimness. The tent cloth must be thick to cut down the outside noise so effectively. The only light in the room came from a small fire built in a pit dug into the earth. A number of hewn logs were laid about the pit as makeshift seats and two people were seated there: a man with a hood pulled forward to cover his face and a sparsely clad Amazon of a woman with dark, muscular arms and a great untidy mop of brown curls falling over one eye.

  At the sound of their entrance, the woman spun on the balls of her feet into a fighting stance, her eyes dangerously purposeful, fingers reaching instinctively for a small dagger in a boot holster. But at once her expression altered.

  ‘Bors. Where is Ford?’ she demanded huskily.

  ’Here!’ Ford announced, coming through the flap with a flourish.

  ‘As usual you are late!’ she responded. ‘Who is that? Bors said only that you would bring Aran to us. I presume you do vouch for your pretty-faced brotherblood?’

  ‘There is more to him than golden curls and fine clothes, Bramble,’ Ford said. ‘And, yes, I do vouch for him.’