Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law Read online

  Taff led the boy away, followed by the horses. Kieran picked up the stone, surprised by its weight, and cradled it in his arms as he headed towards the village. The two Aggapae followed, and Talsy grabbed Chanter as he tried to wander off, tugging him after them.

  Kieran's hut seemed to grow smaller when the three men filled it. The Aggapae sat on the only chairs, and Kieran poured mead for them. Talsy leant against the wall and Chanter stood beside her, looking uncomfortable under Jesher's relentless stare. Kieran found a box to sit on and pulled it up to the table. The remnant of the Staff of Law lay in a corner where he had placed it.

  "What is that thing?" Jesher gestured to the grey stone, his eyes never leaving Chanter.

  Talsy answered, "It's a piece of the Staff of Law, which was broken almost seven moons ago."

  Jesher shook his head. "What's that?"

  Talsy explained, keeping it as brief as possible, and by the end Jesher's eyes had left the Mujar and settled upon her face.

  "The world is dying?"

  She nodded.

  "I've seen no sign of it."

  "Nothing unusual has happened?"

  He contemplated his mug of mead. "Well, there's that damned magician wielding fire. That's strange."

  Talsy glanced at Chanter, whose eyes had narrowed. "A Trueman?"

  Jesher snorted at her disbelief. "What else? I saw him myself. He looked a lot like your friend, whom you claim to be Mujar."

  Talsy shot Chanter a surprised look, but the Mujar shook his head, warning her not to pursue the conversation, and she bit her lip in vexation.

  Kieran looked at Chanter. "I suppose, since these people carry a Mujar talisman, that they're chosen?"

  The Mujar shrugged. "Probably."

  "May I see it?" The Prince turned to Jesher, who tore his gaze from Chanter with an effort. The headman hesitated, glancing at Brin. Obviously he was reluctant to display this sacred relic to strangers, but, since Chanter was unarmed and Talsy just a girl, the only possible threat was Kieran, whose sword was sheathed. He pulled a pouch from inside his tunic and took out a dull brown pebble.

  Talsy smiled, thinking how typical that was. No ancient, mysterious objects or precious jewels served as magical talismans on this world. Truemen were condemned to treasuring the most ordinary stones as priceless, while those that they valued were powerless. Jesher held the stone in his palm for Kieran to study, but when the Prince reached for it, he pulled it away.

  Kieran smiled. "I'm not going to eat it."

  Jesher opened his mouth to reply when Chanter stepped forward and made a graceful gesture. The stone leapt from the headman's palm and shot through the air to the Mujar, who caught it and held it up to inspect. Jesher leapt up with an indignant yell, followed by the spear-toting Brin, and the Aggapae closed on the Mujar. Chanter stepped back, bumping into the wall, and Talsy sprang to his defence.

  "Leave him! He's not going to steal it."

  Jesher growled and drew a wicked looking knife from his belt, but Chanter held out the stone. The headman took it from his palm, glaring at the Mujar before examining the pebble. Satisfied that he had not been hoodwinked, he sheathed his knife and everyone relaxed. Kieran took his hand off the hilt of his sword with a sigh.

  "Well, is it real?"

  Chanter nodded, and Talsy turned to him. "But why would a Mujar give that to Lowmen? Mujar don't help Lowmen."

  "He wasn't helping the Lowmen, he was helping the horses."

  The Aggapae settled back into their chairs, the headman tucking away his precious stone. He scowled at Chanter as he picked up his mug and drained it. Kieran refilled it, and the tension leaked from the air as the men sipped their mead. After a short silence, the conversation resumed, the Aggapae asking questions and answering them in turn. Talsy found their relationship with the horses fascinating, and questioned them about it. The headman answered her with pride, recounting the tale of the god of horses and his gift to them. She knew that the black stallion he spoke of had been Mujar, and shot Chanter a smile.

  The talks went on through the afternoon, leading to a discussion on sharing the valley, which the Aggapae were happy to allow in return for the wall's protection. Jesher's gaze lingered often on Chanter's crippled arm, and Talsy got the impression that it was the lack of a hand that convinced him that Chanter was not Mujar. Sheera brought bowls of rich meaty stew, and the conversation stopped while it was consumed.

  As the late afternoon sun sent fingers of golden light questing through the gaps in the stone walls to dapple the interior with flecks of brightness, a tall, well-built woman with long chestnut hair and a strong face thrust open the door. Her brown eyes scanned the room, lingered on Chanter and came to rest on Jesher.

  "Husband, the herd awaits."

  One strong tanned hand rested on the slender shoulder of the dark-haired youth beside her, whom Talsy recognised as Shan. The boy looked rested and refreshed, his long brown hair tied back and his grey eyes searching for the stone that lay in the corner.

  Jesher stood up, followed by Brin. "My wife," he introduced the woman, "Shella."

  Outside, horses' hooves grated on rock. The boy freed himself from his mother's hold and went over to the piece of staff, running his hands over it. He looked up at his father.

  "It is important, isn't it?"

  Jesher smiled. "It seems so, boy. Your effort in carrying it here was not wasted, for these are the people who want it." He glanced around. "But for what purpose I don't know."

  "We're going to find the rest of it and restore it, with Chanter's help." Talsy looked at the Mujar, who seemed uninterested. "Then we can bring back the law of the land."

  "Is that what it's for?" Shan asked.

  She nodded. "It's a piece of the Staff of Law, which kept all things in order."

  Jesher glanced at his wife, who looked impatient. "I'll tell you all about it tonight, Shan. Right now, we must return to the herd."

  Shan followed his mother outside, and, when Talsy emerged behind Brin, she found four horses waiting for their riders. Shan climbed onto the back of the black colt, Brin and Shella went to their respective steeds, and Jesher turned to thank Kieran for his hospitality.

  A loud bang came from far down the valley, the sound rolling through it like a thunderclap. Everyone turned to stare in the direction of the wall, barely visible in the distance. Jesher scowled and shook his head.

  "Poor Jorn."

  "Who?" Talsy asked.

  "Jorn, our horseless one. He was left behind by the herd today, and he must have been shut out when the gate closed. Now the Arrad and their wizard have reached the wall. No doubt they will make him suffer before he dies." He cast a meaningful glance at Shan.

  Talsy turned to Kieran. "We should see if we can help him."

  The Prince gazed at the distant wall. "I'd like to get rid of that abomination of a wizard."

  Jesher shot them a disbelieving look. "You cannot mean to open the gate? The Arrad are many and fearless. We lost twelve seasoned warriors and six horses to them. Jorn is probably already dead. He could not hope to outrun them, they're mounted. If you open the gate they'll invade and we'll have to fight them."

  Kieran's hand caressed the hilt of the Starsword. "They won't get in. If your man's still alive, we should rescue him. And even if he isn't, we should teach these Arrad a lesson."

  Talsy looked around for Chanter, but the Mujar had disappeared again. Kieran noted his absence and gave a grunt of annoyance. "Come on, we don't need him." He set off through the village.

  Talsy trotted after him. "I'm not so sure about that. The wizard has magical powers."

  "So has this." Kieran patted the sheathed sword. "Will you leave that man out there to die? I know Chanter would."

  "We can't open the gate!"

  The Prince stopped and turned to look back at the Aggapae, who stood gazing after them in apparent indecision. "Jesher! We need you to open the gate."

  The headman appeared to shake himself from his thoughts. Leap
ing aboard the big grey stallion, he cantered after them, followed by the others. He held out a hand to Kieran. "Ride with me, we'll get there a lot faster."

  Kieran accepted his hand and swung up behind him, while Brin helped Talsy to scramble onto his blue roan. The horses cantered through the village, followed by the curious stares of the chosen who had emerged from their huts at the sound of the thunderclap. A second thunderclap echoed around the mountains in a series of rumbling reverberations.

  Chanter paused on his way back to the hut, where he had planned to return to the restful state from which Talsy had so rudely dragged him earlier. He sighed as the horses cantered away. Why did Lowmen insist on getting into trouble, and why was Talsy always in the thick of it? Kieran's reasons were noble, but the Starsword did not make him invincible. Tyrander had shown him that. If this Lowman mage was as powerful as he appeared to be from the thunderclaps his magic caused, Kieran was perhaps overrating his abilities, even with the sword. Chanter had woven into its fabric words of power that invoked fire and parted rock, amongst other things, but the sword lacked any defence against magic, since previously the only wielders of that sort of power were Mujar.

  Chanter gazed after the group, torn between his longing for peace and quiet and worry for Talsy. Why did they feel that they had to rush to the aid of one foolish Lowman? Sadly, the man would probably die if left outside, but there were hundreds, maybe thousands more chosen outside who would die in the coming years of chaos. He rubbed his stump. If not for his handicap, he could return to his rest, able to fly to her aid in minutes if he had to. Hampered by it, however, he needed to be close at hand in case Kieran's pride proved to be his undoing. Quitting the path that led to his favourite roost, he made his way around the back of the village, heading for the wall.

  The horses slowed as they approached the wall, snorting at the smell of burning and the faint haze of smoke that came over it. Their riders slid off and allowed the animals to retreat, advancing on foot. Harsh words, bellowed in a strange tongue, came faintly from the far side of the stone barrier. Ragged cheers followed each verbal barrage as the owner of the deep voice roused his followers.

  Kieran turned to Jesher. "Use your key."

  The headman quailed at the hoarse shouts from beyond the wall. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

  The Prince drew the Starsword far enough from its scabbard to reveal the silver Mujar mark just below the hilt. Jesher's jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

  "The Stone mark!"

  "Mujar mark."

  "Does this mean that your blade has powers?"

  Kieran nodded. "Open the gate and I'll show you."

  Jesher reached for the leather bag, then paused. "What if Jorn's already dead? Can your sword withstand the wizard's magic?"

  Kieran frowned, pushing the sword back into its sheath. "I'm sure it can. Even if your man's dead, we can rescue those six horses you lost."

  "They weren't stolen," Jesher muttered, "they're dead."

  "What about the Arrad's horses? Wouldn't you like to free them?"

  The headman nodded. "Of course, the Arrad are cruel."

  "Then open the gate."

  Jesher started to open the leather bag, glancing at his wife, who shot him a hard look. He hesitated again. "This is dangerous. You haven't seen the Arrad, you don't know what fearsome warriors they are. What if you fail?"

  "In that unlikely event, there's one who dwells in this valley who's sworn to protect it." He glanced back at Talsy. "And believe me he can, no matter how reluctantly."

  Talsy looked around for the Mujar, then turned to shrug at Kieran, indicating that she had no idea where Chanter was. The Prince gave a growl of annoyance and gestured at the wall.

  "Open the gate. I'll deal with that scum."

  The headman drew his precious stone from the soft leather bag and stepped up to the wall, pressing its mark to the mark on the rock. He retreated as the Mujar mark caught fire, burning with a soft blue light.

  Jesher stuffed the Stone back into its bag and went to stand beside his wife, his hand gripping the hilt of his knife. He had no other weapon, but Brin carried a long fighting spear. The headman hoped that this dark-haired man with the burning black eyes knew what he was doing. A thought struck him, and he stepped forward. The key opened the gate, but they had no way of closing it. Before he could voice this, the rock around the mark shimmered. As before, the wall parted. A perfect line appeared in it, dissecting the mark. The rock drew aside as if it was a giant grey curtain parted by invisible hands. The gate was far taller than a mounted man and wide enough to drive two carts through abreast.

  On the other side of the wall, a tall man stopped in mid-shout and turned to stare at the gate that had appeared behind him. The only warning he had of its existence was the expression on his followers' faces as they gaped in wonder. For a moment he too gaped in awe, then he gathered his wits and wiped the surprised expression off his face. Kieran strode through the portal, followed by Talsy and the Aggapae.

  The wizard wore a headdress of raven's feathers arranged in a formidable crest, a deep widow's peak painted on his brow beneath it. Stylised brows had been painted over his own, almost meeting his hairline in a parody of a Mujar's long brows. His eyes, heavily outlined with sable paint, glared balefully at the newcomers from a thin, saturnine face. His leather outfit was a parody of a Mujar's, and his skin had been tinted a sickly yellow with berry juice.

  The overall impression would have been comical if it had not been so insulting, and Talsy's heart swelled with rage. How dare a Lowman ape a Mujar! In fact, why would they? Mujar were hated, reviled, shunned and ultimately thrown into a Pit. Yet this man's costume was not a mockery, but rather a brave attempt to look like a creature that he had never seen in order to rationalise his newfound powers, gifted to him by the lack of law. The most startling aspect of his disguise was the bright blue eyes he had painted on his eyelids, visible for a split second when he blinked.

  Kieran stopped several feet from the wizard and glared into the man's brown eyes. Talsy glanced around and spotted their victim, a middle-aged Aggapae farmer bound to a stake on his knees. He showed signs of rough treatment, cuts and bruises on his face and arms. The unfortunate Jorn looked horrified when Jesher, Shella, Brin and Shan emerged from the gate, somewhat less boldly than Kieran. The rest of the Arrad ringed the portal in a semi-circle, mounted on thin, rough looking horses.

  Dried sweat and dirt streaked the animals' harsh coats, shoddy saddles chafed bony withers and rusty bits cut tender mouths. Their hides showed the scars of abuse and patches of white hair from healed spur cuts and saddle sores. The men who sat on them were over fed and soft looking, their hair and skin oiled. The pelts of wild animals clad their pot-bellied forms, and bright feathers from rare birds sprigged their oily braids. Talsy had never seen a bunch that looked less worthy than this one.

  The wizard, recovering from his surprise, straightened with an expansive gesture and spoke in a heavily accented Trueman tongue that she understood, a dialect hill clans sometimes used.

  "Well! We are honoured!" He glanced back at his men and grinned, revealing yellow teeth. "So you've decided to face the mighty Arrad, instead of cowering in your little haven like whipped curs!"

  His comments were directed at Jesher, but Kieran replied, "We've come for the man you've taken prisoner, and your horses."

  The wizard looked stunned, then threw back his head and guffawed. "Do you hear that, men? They've come for our horses!"

  The Arrad joined in the wizard's laughter with a little more restraint, perhaps realising that these people were either mad, or they had some trick up their sleeve. The mage appeared to have no such doubts. He exuded confidence like a slug oozes slime and stepped closer to the Prince.

  "In case you hadn't noticed, I have certain, er, powers," he confided, "and there's only six of you, and four hundred of us."

  Kieran nodded. "I've noticed. My advice to you is to leave your animals and go, then maybe I'll sp
are your lives."

  The wizard's face went slack in an almost comical expression of astonishment, then he roared with laughter again. "I must say, little man, you have a lot of balls."

  Kieran scowled. "Only the usual number, but I have a lot more than that."

  "Really? Do you have anything like this?"

  The mage turned and raised his arms, muttering a string of odd guttural words. He made a throwing gesture, and a tree beside the wall exploded into flame with a deafening boom. Talsy sensed an odd cold tingle run through her as the fire appeared, as if someone had dropped ice in her blood. The Arrad's horses whinnied in fear and tried to back away, but the cruel jabbing of their riders' spurs held them in place. The beasts clearly did not have the energy to cavort or fight, some looked ready to drop.

  Although Talsy and the Aggapae jumped at the explosion and Jorn cringed, Kieran remained unflinching. He drew the Starsword with a hiss of steel.

  "Actually, I do," he murmured. The wizard stared at the star-filled blade while Kieran looked around for a suitable target. His eyes skipped past living trees and alighted on a boulder next to the Arrad. He raised the sword, making the mage step smartly aside, and pointed it at the rock.

  "Fire."

  The rock turned molten, tiny white flames dancing over it, then slumped and flowed across the ground. The horses shied, earning more jabs and jerks on their mouths. Kieran lowered the sword and glared at the mage.

  "Now, unless you want to be the next target, I advise you to take your men and leave on foot."

  Talsy's heart warmed with pride as the mage seemed to shrink, a glint of fear invading his eyes. He stepped back, and his men muttered, shifting in their saddles. If only Chanter would use his power with a little more showmanship, she mused, he could be even more impressive and really put these Lowmen in their place. At this crucial time, however, the Mujar was nowhere to be seen.