Awakening Page 15

‘Come,’ Jared laid a hand on his arm, ‘the sun’s rising, let’s hunt. We need to eat, we have a long way to go yet.’

  A pale flush of light was creeping along the horizon, highlighting the sharp crests of the distant mountains. Tallis’s throat felt dry and he closed his hands into fists. Jared’s face was gaunt with weariness and there was a hard set to his mouth that had never been there before. Seeing his earth brother like this made him sick to his stomach, but he said nothing. He would not sully Jared’s sacrifice with words of regret.

  He looked toward the west, feeling the familiar tugging in his gut, that hated compulsion that sought to pull him away from the lands that he loved. He had never known why he felt it, but perhaps the Guides did. Maybe they had always known he was not one of their own and had planted this need in his soul to be rid of him. And yet they were sending them east. Nothing made sense anymore. Putting his head down, he followed his earth brother as he began the hunt.

  They caught enough meat for two days, cooking it and wrapping it, then continued on toward the mountains. Jared gave Tallis a piece of cloth to use as a haldar and they sucked enough water from the roots of the desert shrubs to keep them going. Travelling mostly at night, and in the cooler mornings, they rested for the hours when the sun was hottest.

  And every day the massive line of rock grew closer. The Black Mountains stretched as far as Tallis could see, fading to a shadowy glimmer along the edge of the horizon. Sharp peaks reached into the pale light of dawn like black teeth biting the sky, and he wondered how they would ever find a pass through.

  On the second day, they stopped to rest beneath the scant shade of a small prickled shrub. Sleeping for close to six hours, Tallis woke as the sun was dropping in the sky. He lay there for a moment, watching the light through the veil of his head cloth. Sand coated his skin, sticking to the sweat on his neck and forehead, and his mouth was dry. Beside him, Jared was still snoring. He sat up, unwinding the cloth from about his head, and reached for the water skin. Taking a small swig he rubbed the sand off his forehead and looked away from the mountains to the desert. They would be skirting Raknah lands by now. Some two leagues to the east lay the border of their claimed lands, marked by deep rifts in the sand and rock that were almost impossible to see until you were nearly upon them.

  The faint disc of the moon was visible in the sky and he stared up at it and thought about his mother and the sister he’d never seen. Perhaps they should go west, to the Wetlanders’ country? He was gazing, almost blindly, when two black dots appeared above the horizon. For a moment he just stared at them, lost in a weary haze, but then his mind focussed. An ache in his head stabbed at him and his limbs were suddenly nerveless as he registered what they were. He stared as the huge wings became discernible. The fateful day in the desert rushed suddenly back over him and turning he grabbed Jared’s shoulder.

  ‘Wake up!’ He shook Jared hard. He stirred.

  ‘What?’ He lifted his head, blinking, then froze, staring beyond Tallis’s shoulder at the oncoming creatures. His eyes widened and he scrambled out from under the shrub, reaching for his knife. Tallis, his heart pounding, picked up Jared’s smaller blade. They were out in the open with nowhere to hide. Why hadn’t they thought? He cursed their stupidity. There was nowhere to run.

  The serpents drew closer and pain tightened like a vice around Tallis’s skull. He barely registered Jared standing beside him. Blood roared through his head and with growing panic he realised it was happening again. Jared was saying something and had grabbed his arm, but his words seemed to come from far away. The world was dislocating around him. All he could see was the serpents coming, and all he could hear were whispers, like wind rattling the doors of his mind, demanding to be loosed.

  The setting sun was in his eyes, the serpents only dark shadows against the sky, but he felt them – the deep thumping vibration of their blood. The whispers became louder. He could barely think. It dizzied him. He staggered and with dread felt something rising up from deep within. He tried to deny it, struggling to cling to the part of himself he knew, but the thing within was stronger.

  Hovering above, the serpents gleamed with many colours. Their crested heads tilted down to gaze at them, and on their backs sat men in strange garb. These were not the beasts from before! But the thought came to him too late as the thing inside unleashed itself. Words unknown formed on his tongue. The smaller beast seemed to reel back, but the larger, and closest one, reared its head and shrieked and the sound was like a hammer to his skull. Tallis’s knees hit earth and at the last moment he looked up into a knowing green eye before he fell into the black.

  He woke to the sound of men talking. He was lying on his side, it was night, and there was a dull ache behind his eyes. He remembered there had been serpents in the sky, voices and a great green eye. He spun around, dust clouding as he leaped to his feet.

  ‘Finally, I thought I was going to have to smother you to stop the snoring.’

  Jared sat cross-legged next to him, facing a fire. Tallis squinted, his head throbbing.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Jared asked.

  ‘Alive.’ He looked at two men sitting on the other side of the fire watching him.

  ‘This is Bren.’ Jared indicated the younger man. ‘And Attar. They were riding the serpents. They come from the city near the great water.’

  The men regarded him silently. Their skin was sun browned and they wore their hair cropped close to their skulls. Both were dressed in long-sleeved dark shirts and leather vests. The younger man had yellow hair and was fingering something in his lap. They both wore long blades.

  ‘Are we captives?’ Tallis said.

  The man Jared had called Attar raised his eyebrows. ‘What would I want a couple of clansmen for? No, we are merely travellers.’

  His gaze was mild enough, but his answer didn’t ease the tension in Tallis’s gut. Slowly he sat down beside Jared. His head ached dully and there was a metallic taste coating his tongue.

  ‘Where are the serpents?’ he asked.

  ‘Hunting.’ Attar watched him closely. His accent was strange and harsh. A few days’ beard growth covered his heavy jaw and a small scar ran across one eyebrow. Tallis judged he would be taller than Jared when standing, and his shoulders were thick and wide.

  ‘Hunting for what?’ Jared asked and the older man smiled showing surprisingly white teeth.

  ‘Whatever they can find. A beast their size can’t afford to be fussy.’ He chuckled as he saw Jared’s eyes flick to Tallis. ‘Don’t worry, they say human flesh is too rancid for their tastes. We drink too much wine, they say it sours the meat!’

  His teeth glinted in the firelight as he grinned, and beside him the yellow-haired Bren snorted and shook his head, his narrow features showing irritation as he threw the piece of wood he’d been toying with onto the fire.

  ‘They say that,’ Tallis repeated Attar’s words and the older man’s eyes slid to him. He nodded. ‘They do.’ The smile receded as he looked at Tallis with a close, appraising gaze.

  Did Attar mean he talked with the serpents? Did he know what a clansman thought of those who did? His mouth dried and the words of another older man came to him: I saw what you did, I know what you are. He swallowed and looked away and silence hovered among them, until Attar suddenly slapped his hands on his leather leg coverings.

  ‘Let’s eat! Bren.’ He turned to the younger man who nodded and, casting a veiled glance at Jared and Tallis, disappeared into the dark. He returned quickly with a pack and started pulling out parcels of food and cooking utensils.

  ‘So, what clan are you from?’ Attar rested his hands casually on his crossed legs.

  Jared flicked a glance at Tallis. ‘You would not know it.’

  ‘I might. I know more than most coast dwellers about the desert people. I stayed once with the Baal, many years ago, but I can tell you’re not of their Clan. They don’t braid their hair the same, although you,’ he looked at Tallis, ‘your hair is dark enough to be o
f their lot.’

  ‘Why did you stay with the Baal?’ Tallis ignored his question.

  ‘I was injured and lost. What are two clansmen doing so far from any clan’s well?’

  ‘That is not a wetlander’s concern,’ Tallis said bluntly. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Attar gave a laugh. ‘I like you.’ He pointed a finger at him. ‘And I will tell you, if you answer me this: what did you say to my serpent?’

  Tallis froze. Attar’s smile was still there, but it did not reach his eyes. Bren glanced up from the pot he was stirring over the fire.

  ‘I did not speak to your serpent.’ Tallis flicked a glance at Jared who had become very still and was watching the older man, his hand hovering over his knife.

  ‘Aah, but I think you did,’ Attar said and without looking at Jared added, ‘My blade is longer than yours, clansman, and I have survived many fights with warriors more seasoned than you.’

  By the fire Bren stopped stirring, watching them.

  ‘I mean your clansman no harm, Jared.’ Attar kept his eyes on Tallis. ‘If I had wanted to harm him, I would have done so already.’

  Tallis did not doubt him. He held out a hand to Jared, sending him a warning look. The last thing they needed now was a fight. Slowly, Jared’s hand eased away from his blade, but the tension was still palpable.

  ‘Food’s done,’ Bren said into the silence and filled three bowls.

  ‘You two will have to share.’ He passed a bowl and scoop to Tallis.

  A delicious, meaty aroma wafted up to his nostrils. Bren had made a stew from some kind of dried meat and a plant he had never seen before. It was rich and filling, the meat more tender than the usual dried goat they travelled with. There was pan bread with a spice mixed into it that made the inside of his mouth tingle with its hot flavour.

  ‘He makes a fine meal,’ Attar said nodding at Bren who ignored him. ‘You like it?’

  Tallis shrugged and Attar chuckled. ‘Not like clan food is it?’

  ‘S’cause it’s not sand goat,’ Bren said around a mouthful of food. ‘May as well eat your leg covers as eat that.’

  Attar grinned. ‘That’s why clansmen are so tough.’ He looked at them, but Tallis didn’t respond. The big man’s humour masked his intentions and Tallis didn’t like the way he watched him. Attar had let the question of the serpent go too easily and he didn’t seem the type of man who gave up until he had the answer he sought.

  They ate the rest of the meal in silence until, with a belch, Attar tossed his empty bowl to Bren and shifting to lay on one side, propped himself up on his elbow and poked at the fire with a stick.

  ‘Now,’ he looked at them, ‘I will tell you why we are here. We were sent to investigate attacks reported north of your lands. Some rogue serpents have been slaughtering villages there, and further toward the coast. Do you know if the clans have heard of this?’

  Tallis stopped chewing and Jared’s hand froze in the act of scooping up food.

  ‘The serpents have killed many,’ Attar continued. ‘Two villages were destroyed.’

  Tallis swallowed a suddenly tasteless lump of meat and looked at Jared. They had not thought about the beasts attacking beyond the clan lands.

  ‘Have you heard of them?’ Attar said again and tapped his stick on the ground.

  Jared stared at him, his eyes dark, and Tallis knew the same question was running through his earth brother’s mind: could they trust these men?

  ‘How do we know these serpents you speak of are not the very beasts you ride?’ Jared said.

  Attar’s dark eyes looked at him shrewdly. ‘Well, that’s an interesting question. I’d say you did think our serpents were them when you first saw us, clansman, and that you know now they are not because you have seen the very beasts we are hunting for.’ His stick poked at the fire again. ‘Why are you hiding it?’

  ‘Clans do not answer to wetlanders,’ Jared retorted. ‘We fight our own battles, take care of our own.’

  ‘Yes,’ Attar replied. ‘But these serpents are not of your lands, it’s not your battle.’

  ‘And yet you seek them here in our lands,’ Tallis said quietly, locking gazes with the warrior.

  Attar stared back at him, his expression inscrutable. Tallis flicked his eyes to Jared who was watching with distrust plain on his face. But what was the point of keeping it from them? They may no longer be Clan, but these beasts were threatening the lives of those they still cared for. He tilted his head minutely at Jared who, after a moment and with a set jaw, nodded his slightly.

  ‘One of our hunting parties was attacked ten days ago,’ he said to the warrior. ‘And I heard other clans have suffered the same, though they lost more than we.’

  Attar nodded grimly. ‘I thought as much. You were there?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jared said.

  ‘What were they like?’

  ‘They were very much like your serpents in size, but their hide was black. There were two of them.’

  ‘How is it you were not all killed?’

  ‘We held our spears up; they must have decided we were too much trouble. They flew off.’

  The warrior’s eyebrows lifted. ‘They flew off and none were hurt?’

  He was trying to protect him. ‘One was killed,’ Tallis said shortly and looked at the fire. The image of Haldane falling to the sand, of his blood turning it red gripped him.

  Attar said nothing for a moment, but he could feel the man’s eyes on him. ‘I’m sorry for your clan’s loss, but after seeing what they have done to those beyond your lands I find it amazing that you lost only one. What did you say to them, clansman? Did you speak to them as you spoke to my serpent?’

  Tallis kept staring into the fire and didn’t answer.

  ‘Marathin and Haraka were disturbed by what you said to them,’ he pressed him. ‘They still are, that’s why they have gone off to hunt. They are wary of you. What did you say?’

  ‘Not everything can be discussed with a wetlander.’ Jared’s eyes glinted a warning at him across the fire.

  But the warrior ignored him. ‘You desert people.’ He sat up, crossing his legs. ‘In Salmut, the city I come from, men who can communicate with serpents are welcomed. It is a valuable thing, a talent. In Salmut, serpents are valued highly. We have an entire army made of serpents and their riders. And I suspect that what you are able to do is something similar to us, and you should be glad of it. It helped you drive the rogue beasts off didn’t it?’ He waited, but Tallis remained silent. Attar grunted and spat into the fire, his spit sizzling briefly on the coals. ‘You are more closemouthed than a Seducer!’

  ‘And you are an ignorant wetlander,’ Jared retorted, ‘who knows nothing of Clan ways!’

  ‘I know he’s not telling me what he knows.’ Attar pointed a finger at Tallis. ‘He spoke to my serpent and he spoke to the rogues – that is what I know.’

  Jared gave him a silent, stony stare in response.

  Tallis felt cold fingers slide up his spine. To be able to do what he did was not for a man of the clan. He wanted no one to know of it. Even now when he was no longer Clan – when he was nothing – for another to know and to speak of it set fear and shame in him. And yet Attar spoke of it as though it were a gift, as though it could be of use. I saw what you did. I know what you are. Karnit’s words haunted him. He stared into the fire and a small gust of wind blew across their camp sending the firelight dancing across their faces.

  ‘Leave it Attar.’ Bren got up, breaking the tension, and started clearing up the remains of the meal. ‘They are men of the clans, they’ll tell you nothing.’

  But the older man only shrugged and kicked at the fire. ‘Even clansmen talk sometimes,’ he said, looking at Tallis across the flickering orange flames. Tallis set his face and said nothing while Jared gave a snort. ‘We will never talk as much as wetlanders,’ he said, but the heat had gone from his voice and they all sat for a stretch in silence, an unspoken truce called between them.

  Arou
nd them the desert was silent as always. Tallis could not help wondering if his mother Mailun was staring up at the stars, thinking of him. He looked at Jared. His dark face was closed as he stared into the flames, and Tallis knew that he too was thinking of home.

  Suddenly a sharp, clear call sounded in the sky and they both looked up. The call went on and on. It was like the sound of the great desert falcon, high and piercing, and then it changed and it was the sound of the wind as it whistled through a narrow canyon of rock, soft and desolate. It was full of melancholy and sadness.

  ‘Marathin calls for her mate,’ Attar said softly.

  ‘Is Haraka her mate?’ Jared asked.

  ‘No. Her mate died in the battle for the Free Lands a long time ago. And sometimes she calls for him still, though I’m not sure why. The serpents have many secrets and rituals which they do not choose to share with us, much like your clans.’

  ‘The battle for the Free Lands?’ Jared ignored the pointed remark. ‘There are tales in our histories of a time when the Wetlanders fought, but that was many, many years ago.’

  Attar nodded, ‘Over two hundred now.’

  Jared sucked in a breath, ‘How old is she then?’

  ‘Marathin is around three hundred and forty years old,’ he replied with a tinge of pride. ‘Or thereabouts. Serpents don’t always tell you their age.’

  Tallis looked at Jared staring up at the sky, and felt a sudden dark premonition. He remembered again the great green eye of Attar’s serpent looking into his own, and a shiver brushed his skin. The dull ache was growing behind his eyes, it was time to try to get some sleep before it became so painful he couldn’t rest. He picked up his bowl and handed it to Bren who took it without comment.

  Attar sent him a contemplative expression. ‘Why don’t you and your friend come back with us to Salmut? What you have seen – what you know – could help us defeat these rogue serpents.’ His eyes were shadowed in the firelight. ‘You aren’t out here by choice, are you? I know enough of your ways to know that. We are a long way from any of the clan wells.’

  ‘You know nothing of our ways, wetlander,’ Jared said. ‘I am surprised the Baal let you live, if you even spent time in their well as you say. Although I do not believe it.’