Shadow of the Serpent Page 34

  But no danger appeared. All they saw was a blur of water, and all they felt were the bumps as the wheels rolled forward across the gravelly floor of the pool.

  None of the people on the wagon saw the two men who had been trailing them for the past day run out of the undergrowth and stare in astonishment as the whole apparatus, wagon and deleff alike, vanished into a cascade of water jets - vanished and did not reappear.

  * * *

  When the wagon rolled out of the water, it was through a tumble of rocks in a shallow mountain pool from which a little stream took its source. The passengers weren’t as badly affected by the transition as usual, but sat quietly for a while, like people just rousing from a long sleep. As their eyes blinked into better focus, they found themselves looking down at a landscape of rolling hills, misty rain and sighing winds.

  When his energy returned, Jonner scrambled forward to join Cheral on the driving seat and stare around.

  'It looks like Beldrian,' he murmured. 'And it's definitely not Dsheresh. Thank you, Brother, for that at least.'

  Narla, who had come forward to stand behind them, shivered. 'It feels cold.'

  Cheral nodded. 'A typical Beldrian day. It's the rainiest of all the claims. We must try to purchase some oiled woollen cloaks at the first village. Winter is colder up here in the northern claims, and the Beldarin are famous for their weaving and dyeing.'

  As the wagon rolled forward, Jonner cleared his throat. 'Er - Cheral?'

  'Yes.'

  'Do you know where to find the girl?'

  'No.'

  'Then - what are we going to do next?'

  'We're going to go into the city. Temple Beldarik might be under stasis, but there will be someone there who can help us, someone who knows where to find a Sister.'

  'Into Beldarik!' Jonner gulped audibly. 'But that means we'll be walking right into the serpent's lair. I mean, those big shrines in the capitals of each claim - well, they're the most dangerous places there are. It’d be mad even to think of going near one.'

  'Do you have any better idea, then?' Cheral's expression was one which had struck fear into the hearts of recalcitrant novices, and it made Jonner wriggle uncomfortably. 'If so, pray tell me now. I, too, would welcome an easier solution.'

  'Er - no. I don't have any other ideas.'

  'Then sort out your trade goods and leave me to think things through in peace. We must enter the city looking like a family of traders and seize every opportunity that's afforded to us after that.'

  Three days later, the city loomed on the horizon and Jonner sighed. Never one of his favourite places, Beldarik, especially now that Sythia wasn’t there to welcome him. And it had been typical Beldrian weather for all three days since the portal. Drip, drip, drip! He was sick of the damp feeling everything had. Sick of worrying how they were to manage. He suddenly struck one fist into the other. 'I'm a fool!'

  'You aren’t always very wise,' agreed Cheral in her best novice-mistress's voice.

  He gritted his teeth and ignored that comment. 'Sythia's family. We can go to them. Well, we can if they're still there. They'll help us, I know. I always got on very well with her sisters.'

  Cheral didn’t mention her own connections in Beldarik. She was hoping there would be no need for her to contact them. She’d try Jonner's path first in her search for the girl. Taslyn was the daughter of Nardress, the previous Lord Claimant of Peneron, who’d been assassinated by a fanatical follower of the Serpent four years previously.

  Taslyn had been stolen away from her dead mother just after birth, taken by the Sisters at the very moment when Those of the Serpent were trying to smother the newborn babe. This murder had been done, presumably, so that a distant cousin would be unchallenged when he made claim to Peneron after Nardress died - as had eventually happened.

  The midwives had replaced the infant daughter of the Lord Claimant with a dead baby from the Shambles to hide the disappearance of the child, but the Elder Sister at the Temple Penerak knew about the deception, as did the Elder Sister of Temple Beldarik, to which the child had been taken soon after. From there she’d have gone out to a creche. No doubt quite a few senior Sisters would have known where exactly she was, but unfortunately they’d be either under stasis or scattered now. Small possibility of finding them to ask where they had taken the child.

  Cheral frowned. The Sisterhood would never have locked all its knowledge inside the stasis field. They would have left some message for any Sister who came searching. If Jonner's plan didn’t work, it was up to her to find the message. Brother, look down!' she breathed. 'Help me now.'

  The wagon rolled over the High Bridge across the fast-flowing Belder River. The bridge was famous throughout the Twelve Claims for its beautiful lines and intricately carved stonework, but none of the three people riding the wagon paid the delicate carvings any attention. They were staring apprehensively at the jostling crowds.

  The glances people cast at Jonner, now riding alone on the driving seat of the wagon, weren’t always friendly and sometimes openly hostile, but no one made any move against them and no one attempted to drag the women away to force them to make sacrifice. The deleff continued to plod slowly through the streets in the direction of the market field where they’d be able to browse while the traders conducted their business.

  And if the deleff were still content to be there in Beldarik, thought Cheral, there could be no immediate danger their passengers, surely?

  To Jonner's relief, their route didn’t take them past the main shrine, though he could see its black triangular banners flapping above the rooftops. He seemed to sense the evil coming from that direction, but pushed that feeling away. He wasn't a Sister, gifted with special senses. He must just be imagining things. But he wasn't imagining the incense that wafted through the streets with the devout followers of the Serpent adding new sticks to the clusters burning at each corner. He shook his head from time to time, when the heavy fumes seemed to cloud his brain, and once he murmured, 'Brother, look down!' as a particularly heavy cloud of dirty smoke drifted across the road.

  Cheral and Narla were now wearing dark robes and had their hair bundled up in coarse net snoods. They sat in the rear of the wagon, out of sight of passers-by, their eyes mostly downcast as was seemly in public.

  Narla was trembling in fear, for this city seemed to her to have an aura of pain and terror, but Cheral had gone beyond fear and grown angry. She was deliberately using that anger to fuel her courage. How dared Those of the Serpent spoil the city she loved, the city where she and her husband had lived and raised their children? How dared they?

  What, she wondered, had happened to her descendants during these years of discord? Were any of them still living here? Had her line continued? Had it produced more Sisters? Sometimes it was hard not knowing these things, but she’d accepted long ago that her duty lay with the Sisterhood, and now with the Kindred.

  Things were changing, but would they ever change so that a woman chosen to serve the God could still keep in touch with her family, so that those chosen as Sisters need not give up so much?

  Temple Beldarik stood on a slight rise just north of the central part of the city. The early temple builders had always sought the highest ground, which had later been resented by some of the Lords Claimant. Cheral pointed the temple out to Narla as they caught a glimpse of it across the rooftops, but there was no sign of the stasis field that was presumably keeping it safe from the depredations of those infected with discord madness. Tears came into Cheral's eyes as she remembered the happy times in the temple, the Gatherings, the dancing and singing, the joy and beauty. She blinked the tears away angrily. This was no time for weakness. It was up to her to protect her companions and fulfil their Brother's quest. She would not give in to this evil.

  As they drew into the market place, they found three or four other wagons standing where once thirty or more would have waited for custom. The deleff were clustered together in one corner of the market field that adjoined the square
, and when the new wagon came into sight, they moved forward a little, as if to greet the newcomers, snuffling and tossing their heads.

  The two deleff pulling Jonner's wagon came to a halt a short distance from the other traders and walked out of their harness. Not until they had trampled across into the grazing field did the man in dark robes, who had been waiting in his cubicle at the corner of the square, come forward to accost the newcomers. His whole bearing shouted of self-importance and arrogance, but he was a small man, with a narrow mean face, who would go unnoticed in any crowd were it not for his robes and whip.

  'Name!' he demanded, offering no greeting.

  'Masner.' Jonner replied, choosing a name at random.

  'Any women with you?'

  'Of course there are. You don't think I'd do my own cooking and washing, do you?' said Jonner.

  'Very proper sentiment. See that your womenfolk stay near the wagon, then. We're not having their sort let loose in our city.' He paused and eyed Jonner. 'You seem to be a sensible sort of fellow. Haven't you ever thought of joining the Serpent?' His voice became persuasive. 'You would gain great pleasure, and know that you were working against the evil ways of those perverted hags.'

  Jonner shook his head, feigning reluctance. 'I can't. I've got to earn my living. You know how it is with us traders - we're brought up to travel and couldn't settle down in one place. If I so much as go into a shrine, my deleff will leave me.'

  'That's what they all say.' The market keeper was obviously a fanatic. 'Perhaps we could have a drink together one night and discuss things further.'

  'Perhaps we could. But after I've sorted my stuff out. I like to give good value for money. I mean, I might not be able to go into a shrine, but I'm doing you Beldrini a valuable service carrying trade goods across the land in these troubled times.'

  'They all say that, as well.' The man slapped his hand against the small whip which nestled in his belt. 'One day we'll find a way to tame those deleff and then everyone will have to acknowledge our dread lord.

  Everyone. May that day come soon.'

  Jonner allowed a moment to elapse, before muttering, 'If you say so, honoured sir.'

  The man sighed. 'Well, if you're going to be stubborn, the fine is fifty coins.'

  'Fine! What am I being fined for?' yelped Jonner, not needing to feign indignation about this.

  'For not worshipping the Serpent, of course. You don't think you can run loose in our city with no penalties, surely?'

  'But I'll get no profit from this visit if you fine me that much.'

  'Pay it or leave Beldarik immediately. Your choice.'

  Jonner scowled at the ground. It went against the grain to pay so much coin to the shrines. He mentally doubled the price of everything he had on the wagon for sale before he could bring himself to say, 'I'll pay.

  But it'll nearly break me.'

  'You chose to come to Beldarik.' The man held out his hand.

  Jonner fumbled in his belt pouch and counted out the coins carefully, like a man whose life savings are being taken from him. 'I won't be able to come back here,' he grumbled. 'I couldn't afford to pay that much again. You've taken all my profit for the last few months.'

  The man only shrugged. 'Trade somewhere else, then. We can get most of the wares we need from the outlying towns. And the fewer of those great ugly creatures you traders bring into Beldarik, the better, as far as I'm concerned. They're not safe, those deleff aren't. Mad wild beasts, they are. I don't know how you put up with them. It's well known that they sometimes attack innocent people without provocation.'

  As the market keeper spoke, Jonner's deleffal lifted up his head and trumpeted loudly. Jonner glanced round quickly, afraid this meant trouble, but he could see no danger and the deleffal hadn’t moved to lead his companion from the market field.

  'Cursed things!' muttered the man, stowing the fine away quickly in a black leather pouch. 'They always bellow like that when we take the fines. If I never saw another deleff again, it'd be too soon.'

  Even as he spoke, another wagon rolled into the market square and he gave a tight smile of satisfaction as he waited for it to halt. The Lord of the Inner Shrine would be happy with the extra coin, however much he disliked having traders in the city. This Initiate seemed to want more coin every year.

  The two new deleff walked right up to Jonner's wagon before they came to a halt. On the way they swerved suddenly, coming so close to the Servant that he had to step back quickly to get away from the great trampling feet and tossing heads. Again he didn’t attempt to approach the newcomer until the two deleff had left their harness and stamped off into the market field.

  Jonner stood and watched as the new trader jumped down, seeing and sympathising with his expression of dismay as he paid his fine. 'Come far, friend?' he asked, when the Servant had stalked back across to his watch cubicle in the corner of the square.

  'Far enough. Came from the High Alder this trip. Lot of trouble up there. It's getting so that nowhere's safe nowadays. How's an honest trader to earn a living if this goes on, I ask you?'

  Jonner tried not to show his anxiety. 'What's happening in the High Alder, then?'

  'The Shrine in Kelandrak has persuaded the Lord Claimant to send out an armed force to subdue the hill country. They're calling it a holy war. Don't know why they bother. It's not as if there's any great wealth to be gained up there. Poor as nerid herders, the Aldrani are, and always have been. But they refuse to acknowledge the Serpent, and that rankles, I suppose. There aren't any shrines up in the mountain country, you know. Not one. It used to be like a breath of peace to go there.' He realised that this sort of talk was risky and looked anxiously round. 'But now the Kelandrani forces have burned the towns in the foothills and the Aldrani who escaped have fled into the high reaches. Poor sods. They're going to be cold and hungry come the winter.'

  Jonner shuddered. 'I'm sorry to hear about the trouble there.' Where would he and Cheral go now if the High Alder were barred to them? They had been counting on finding refuge there.

  'You're not as sorry as I am. It was my favourite trading circuit, that was. You get the best beringa-sap in the world up in the High Alder. And the resins are marvellous. I have a customer in Nulandra who'll pay anything for a good-sized chunk of resin. He carves it into the most marvellous shapes. There were several of his pieces in Temple Nulandrak. Well, I suppose they're there still, behind that barrier. But he'll be disappointed this time, poor fellow. I had to turn round without doing any trading at all. Well, you wouldn't stay there with a bunch of fanatics all geared up to drag everyone into their shrine to make sacrifice, would you? If my deleff hadn't turned and taken my wagon away, I'd have been caught for sure.' He sighed again.

  'It'll be a big loss to me, this trip will, a big loss.'

  Jonner made a sympathetic noise, though he knew that it was unlikely that there’d be an actual loss. The worst a trader usually managed was to cover expenses. There were always ways to make a bit of coin, always.

  And you could pick up your food as you went, too, if you weren't fussy. The traders taught their children all these tricks before they were knee high to a deleff. 'It's a good job I'm not going that way, then,' he said, prudently hiding their destination. 'Look, I've got to unpack my stuff now, but later how about going into town for a drink this evening? I used to know a good ale-house. Man called Pivithin ran it. That's a few years ago now, though.'

  'Oh, Pivithin was still there last time I came through. They say he's in the pay of the shrine now, though.

  Well, how else would he keep his place untouched there on the edge of the Shambles?'

  When Jonner went back to the wagon, Cheral pounced on him. 'What took you so long? What did that Servant say? Why didn’t you come back at once and tell us what was happening?'

  'Because it'd have looked funny, that's why. Those of the Serpent don't like us traders pampering our women in public, so we usually keep apart when they're watching us. And while we're here, just remember w
hat I've told you. Pass me things and measure stuff out, do the cooking and washing, and leave all the selling and talking to me. Oh, and I'm going into town later, to have a drink at Pivithin's, so don't leave the wagon after dusk.'

  'What?' Cheral turned greasy white, as if she’d received a shock. 'What name did you say?'

  'Pivithin. It's a strange name, I know, but that's what he's called, right enough. He runs an ale-house. We always used to drink there when we came to Beldarik.'

  'What does he look like, this Pivithin?'

  Her hand was grasping Jonner's arm so tightly it hurt, but she looked so desperately anxious that he made no protest, just told her what she wanted. 'Short, a bit plump, with a lock of hair that stands up at the back no matter how he slicks it down. Everyone teases him about it, says he must have been frightened by something in his cradle.'

  'They always say that,' she murmured. She let go of Jonner's arm. 'I must go with you tonight.'

  He jerked in shock. 'Go with me! You can't! Haven't I been telling you that - '

  'I must go. I think your Pivithin is a descendant of mine.'

  'Descendant!'

  'I used to live here,' she admitted.

  'Well, why didn't you say so? And there was me, racking my brain to think of someone I could talk to safely in Beldarik.'

  Her face became stern. 'We Sisters try not to contact our families once we've been chosen. And how would I explain the connection to him after all these years?'

  'Ah.'

  She stared into space, then said slowly, 'It's an unusual name, Pivithin, and I've only ever heard it used in my husband's family. If this Pivithin has gone over to the Serpent I shall have to kill him. My honour demands it.' She buried her face in her hands and her words came out muffled. 'Oh, Warral, to think that a descendant of ours would betray our Brother! I'm glad you're not alive to see it.'