Strange Land (The Young Ancients Book 15) (2 page)

Laroque made a face and glared at Roget, but
did
put his blade away. That was a sign that he understood, even if he didn't want to see his Captain crawling around and begging. Sara had to admit it wasn't her first choice of things to do either. Nothing else had worked yet though, and it was pretty certain that just handing out food wouldn't do the trick. If they wanted to get these people the help they needed then someone, probably her, was going to have to try a different way of interacting with them.

Her First Mate looked down at the deck, his face confused.

"I don't know nothing about that. If'n the Captain says it's the right way, then we go and beg like puppies for scraps. I can't say I like it. We could just kill a few and tell the rest to fall into line or else they'll have a taste of the same." Then he shook his head, negating the words. "Except the stubborn bastards won't do it, even then. They'd let themselves starve first, prayers to Him on their lips.
Fools
. This is
clear
on His way o' getting them help. Sending folk off o' the Moon above to bring to them. From His own heaven in the stars."

There was a lot said in a few words there. The first thing was that the First Mate had spoken of
Him
in an almost reverent tone. He wasn't a brilliant man, but he clearly wasn't a believer either. Still, there it was. The words held no sense of mocking or patronizing, either. When he said them he
pretended
to believe, even if he didn't. Probably because he didn't think anyone would be able to hear him if he did otherwise. Not among his own people.

She would need to do the same, she thought. It was going to leave a bitter taste in her mouth, lying about something a whole people held so dear, but she nodded.

"Don't worry men, I won't make
you
crawl on the ground to get these people to do what's needed. I'll do that part. That's my part in this. No need for all of us to get dirt over our clothes. Terry didn't ask for you to be shamed in this." No, just
her
. The only good part about it was that the boy was probably one of the last people on any world that would have asked such a thing, if he wasn't willing to do it himself. Everyone knew how noble he was. In the
old
meaning of the word too. The real one.

He just couldn't go and do it yet. So he sent...
Her
. A person that had only met him a few times.

What she'd said got everyone to be nearly silent as they loaded on to the little magical boat, that looked exactly like a wooden skiff. It even had oars, which were used to row the thing to the sandy beach. For all intents and purposes it was a thing that couldn't be told for what it was. Honestly she wasn't certain that all of the men going with her knew that it was magical at all. They were good at ignoring things like that, the people of Tellerand.

If so, that was fine with her.

It was mid-afternoon, but there was a heavy cover of cloud to keep it from being too warm. The scent from the water was musky and a bit sour, since too many things had died in the normally life filled waters in the last months. On the shore was a collection of people, waiting for them. They'd started a small fire and stood around it. The smoke billowed whitely as they stared. Mainly men, but a few dark clothed women in long dresses were waiting near the back. There was a young girl there too, who was passing around what seemed to be cups, with water in it.

Sara knew it
had
to be that, since these people didn't have anything else to drink. They'd be lucky if even that was clean and pure.

On the whole they were a somber looking crowd. Dour and humorless. The clothing wasn't
horrible
, but it was all a bit run down looking. All black or gray too. With one exception. A single woman in a brown dress who stood off to the far side, away from the rest of the people. No one looked at her. After the first glance even Roget turned his face away. If the other men did, Sara couldn't tell. Most of them just worked at what they were doing, holding an oar down and keeping the strokes timed to the others.

A gray bearded man wearing a heavy looking wooden cross around his neck on a simple rope, held up his right hand, waving to them when they got close enough to be heard. The pounding of the salt water against the sand made it hard to make it all out.

"We welcome you strangers. Are..." He looked up to the heavens, his face going a bit strange. More so than was polite really. Disgust played on his lips, and he seemed nearly
scared
for some reason. "Are you the people... that come with food? We're close to having none. We have good clean water, given us by the All High. We will share that with you. If you have need, we might part with some small bit to eat, but... I fear we truly don't have much."

Given that his second line to them had been asking if
they
were the ones smuggling food in, Sara had to bet they didn't have much left. Still, this man was offering what they had to them, or part of it. Even though it would clearly be a hardship. They were all thin enough that missing a meal or two would really hurt. No one told the man to shush however, or looked angry about his offer to help them, if it was needed.

Sara didn't wait, jumping out of the boat directly into the water. Her clothing was black, and she wore trousers, which was probably a mistake, given who she had to talk to, but did keep her from drowning as she paddled to the shore. The others followed in the boat, she noticed. Probably showing they were sane. Then, she was the tallest person there, and could walk her way in from a good bit further away than the others could.

The last bit of the trip took some effort, and the salt water made her eyes burn.

The damp would make it harder for people to see she wasn't really crying. It was important to seem like you meant it when you begged. That had been in every lesson she'd ever been given on the topic. There were rules to that kind of thing, and she knew them all. At least for her own people. The trick here would be adapting to what these people needed of her, even as she spoke and tried to produce real tears for them. It wouldn't be enough to be realistic, she needed to be
heartrending
. As soon as she got ten feet from the collection of people, she knelt, hands going out in front of her, as if about to beg forgiveness. It was embarrassing, but that was the point.

When she spoke it was in her accented Tellerand.

"We have food, and the ability to make more. Please... Please take it. It is..." Sara didn't know how to put what she wanted to say clearly. She didn't
want
to lie to these people, but she also had a job to do. One that made her being manipulative and a bit less than honest all right. That's what she told herself anyway. Finally she just stammered through it, as they all stared at her.
Horrified
. Some of the women in the back looked away, so as to not see her in such a state. "The food, all of it, is... magic. But good and healthy to eat. The... We were sent by the All High. It is His power that lets us come here."

She waited for the man to pick up a rock and try to drive her away, but the other men, her sailors, beached the skiff and to her amazement joined her on the sand. Kneeling humbly before these people, as if asking for their own lives. Even the two men from Vagus, who had no real part of the mission other than what they were being paid for. That
certainly
wasn't making these hidebound people take the food they offered. They were just required to row the oars, and man the deck when told.

To her surprise Laroque started speaking, his hard voice far more mellow than she would have suspected it could be. Humble.
Contrite
.

"This is truth, being spoken. I have seen this woman and her friends, watching them for weeks. They do
nothing
counter to what the All High asks of us, except stint on prayers. They fill
those
moments with good works. They are not the most pious, I have seen this. If'n they are not touched by Him and His ways regardless, then none of us are, I give you. The Captain, this woman before you crying out for you to take her aid, offered her
virtue
just moments ago, if it be needed for you to take what her people offer you. Risking being cast out of her own lands for all time, to allow you to slake your carnal and venal thirst upon her flesh, if you will but help us do His will. If that can be refused, then perhaps you do not seek to do His will as is the way?" There was more in that vein, most of it clearly designed to make people uneasy.

The man was clearly smarter than she'd been thinking, since between begging and suggesting that
they
were the ones being more than a bit evil, not taking the help the One God himself was bringing them, the First mate got the people arrayed on the beach to start nodding along.

Then, without letting her people up, they all knelt, and
prayed
.

Because that made sense, given how most of the people were two or three missed meals from death. Perhaps not that close, but it wasn't what she would have suggested they do first.

It didn't take that long, though it felt a bit useless. She copied the words however, when the others spoke, since she was being watched by the women very closely. Especially the one in brown. The short pale lady had long brown hair, and a cross around her own neck, like several of the men did. A big thing that showed she took her faith seriously. Not that any of these people didn't.

Finally, when that was done, the prayer and supplication portion of things, the others got up. Sara stood too, not knowing if it was the right time for it. Her knees and lower back were starting to hurt though, from being bent half over like she was.

The gray bearded fellow looked troubled. It wasn't some subtle thing, either.

"Magic is of the devil though. Could this be a trick, meant to steal our souls from Him? To corrupt our hearts?"

That was, Sara had been warned, going to be the standard line. That magic, being evil, and only of the devil, who was for this land a kind of spirit that inhabited people and turned them away from the glory of their One God, would warp and twist them away from the path of right and good. At least she'd thought that was what Roget and the others back on Harmony had said.

No one was looking at her, not even the gray bearded elder who spoke for them all. This land was a little against women in some ways, but she didn't think that was what the problem was. Not this time.

From the left, standing away from all the others still, the woman in the brown dress spoke up. Her long dark hair was tied back, and her entire body was covered with plain cloth. There was sand on her knees though, like everyone else. If anything the patches on her dress front were larger and more well worn than the others. This was a person that had been on hard times longer than the rest, it seemed.

Her voice was humble sounding, but still firm.

"Day Leader, this woman, not even one of our own people is willing to have her
virtue
torn asunder to convince us, in our wickedness, that we should accept the bounty of the All High. Should we not at least hold council on it? Are we all perfect beings then? Can we not confuse the path that He sets for us for evil, if it is new and different?" Then the woman went wide eyed and shook her head a little, as everyone except the young girl glared at her.

Well, not the men from Vagus, but even Sara's hired crew did. Including Roget. It was that short pale man in black that shook his own head, and finally smiled however. Explaining in part, with a few simple words.

"Your saint speaks correctly in this. The All High does not seek to cause us pain in this world. There are trials, and tests, but when pushed to the edge of survival those lessons are
always
in adapting to the new and strange. It's in His book."

That there was a book was news to Sara, but she schooled her face and didn't smile as a debate started. Instead she sunk to her knees and started going on a bit. Crying out sadly, telling them how she, how
all
her people in all their lands, wished only for the people of Tellerand to live. It wasn't all that coherent, but real begging never was. Besides, it was, she realized, nearly true. Even if it was humbling to keep having to do it for these people that should have known better already.

It sent a thrill of shame through her, but she did it anyway. Even as people occasionally looked at her in horror. This time her crew didn't follow along with her, but Laroque kept touching the large knife on his side. Not drawing it, but it was clear that the Day Leader was going to be in trouble if something didn't break soon.

In the end it was the young girl that settled the first part of things. Her voice was so small and weak sounding that Sara almost didn't hear her.

"The little ones. We need to think of them before our own needs. Even if this food is prepared by the devil himself. To refuse aid for those in our care is a greater sin than having truck with the darkness."

Sara stood then, as if the young woman's words had released her. The truth was that her back was starting to kill her from being bent over. She dusted off her knees then, and nodded somberly.

"Roget, would you set up one of the food units?" Her accent wasn't perfect, but everyone seemed to understand what she meant, speaking in Tellerand like she was. It wasn't Noram Standard, but it had a lot of similar words. Afrak was actually a lot harder to learn, holding no common ground like that.

The man didn't wait to be invited by the Day Leader. He moved back about fifty paces, and tapped the sigil on one of the amulets he carried in his side pocket. That got a gasp, and real terror from the people watching on the beach. Including some of the men from her crew. She spoke softly to them.

"Hold men. This is only what the All High has provided for these people. The... saint, Timon Baker, spent over a month in communion with Him to create this. No magic can be built without touching that level of things. Without being one with the All High. We
call
it magic, but ask yourselves, is this the kind of thing you were warned of? This is no curse to act in subtle, unseen ways. This is not some hidden and secret thing that the Devil would use to trick you."