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Authors: Lisanne Norman

thefiremargins (46 page)

BOOK: thefiremargins
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* * *

 

It had taken several days work to dislodge the rockfall at the base of the monastery's hill. Ahead of them, the tunnel began to open up, then it was once more clogged with dirt and debris. Outside the tunnel entrance, the pile of rubble and earth was steadily growing, and the builders were getting anxious to return to their official Guild work.
This left Kusac with only his group of twenty-nine Brothers, a good proportion of whom were on guard duty at any given time. Ni'Zulhu and he arranged the shifts so there were always eight people digging at a time. With all the electronic surveillance on the combined estates, during the day the duty rosters were light enough that they could cope. Everyone's spirits were lifted a little when they'd excavated enough of the cavern entrance to see another sloping tunnel off to their left, obviously heading upward into the secondary, and larger, cavern complex.
Kusac's return to the Forces semi-active list meant a resumption of his training sessions at the Warrior Guild in Nazule. Not so for Carrie. Thankfully there had been no more dream replays but she found herself glad that the work at the hill was going slowly as she didn't have the energy to stir far from the house.
With Garras working on the dig, and Kusac at Nazule with T'Chebbi, she kept Vanna company. She didn't want Vanna to be left alone for any length of time now that her friend was in the last two weeks of her pregnancy. The first day she went round, Vanna took one look at Carrie and requested protein supplements from Jack for her.
"I know this is an En'Shalla cub, Carrie," she said, "but your body just doesn't produce enough of what the infant needs from you. Vartra Himself would approve of you taking supplements." Fussing over Carrie made Vanna fret less about herself, and Carrie stoically put up with it.
Brynne had decided to help the diggers and though relations between him and Garras were civilized, they were not good. By an unspoken agreement, they worked on different teams.
It was discovered that the upward tunnel had less rubble in it, being only partially filled with the detritus of over a thousand years. The team digging there were making good progress when two weeks into the work, the first finds were made— in the main cavern.
"Hey! Bones! I've found bones!" yelled Rulla, grabbing hold of the protruding end of a piece of ivory-colored material.
"Don't pull at it like that!" exclaimed Jack. "It's fragile, you'll ..."
With a yowl of surprise, Rulla went flying backward, grasping a knuckle-ended piece of broken bone in one hand.
"... break it," he finished with a sigh.
"Sorry. How was I to know it would break so easily? I thought bones were bones."
"Not when they're over a thousand years old, they aren't," said Jack, going over to take the piece from him. "Where did you find it?"
Rulla scrambled up, dusting off his jacket as he answered. "Over there." He pointed to the spot where he'd been working.
A crowd quickly gathered round Jack as he used a small brush to gently remove the earth around the rest of the bone, all the while explaining how and why he was doing it.
Finally, the rest of the bone lay exposed on its bed of soil. "Well, there you have your first lesson in archeology," said Jack, brushing the loose earth from around it, "and your first Valtegan leg bone."
"Valtegan?" demanded Garras. "Are you sure?"
Jack looked up at him. "I'm a physician, Garras. I know as much about your people as I do about my own. If I say this isn't a Sholan bone, and that I'm pretty certain it's Valtegan, you can be sure I know what I'm talking about."
Garras lowered his ears in apology. "I didn't mean to imply a mistake, Jack, only surprise that we'd found Valtegan remains so soon."
"Well, we'll soon know when we find the rest of him," said Jack, beginning to carefully undercut the soil around the relic. "We knew there would likely be bodies down here. If this was the entrance, then I imagine it saw the fiercest fighting."
Garras turned round to face the others. "Back to work, everyone," he said. "We know we're on the right track now." As the top tunnel team wandered reluctantly back to work, Garras bent down beside Jack. "What do you want us to do?"
"Carry on working at the face," he said. "Just make sure not to disturb the earth near me. I've no wish to be buried like our scaly friend!"
Garras nodded. "This find has given us all more enthusiasm to continue," he said. "It couldn't have come at a better time."
"This is a slow process, Garras," said Jack, picking carefully away at the underside of the bone, "and we haven't the time to take it as slowly as it needs, I'm afraid. We'll have to leave that to the professionals from Earth. We need to find evidence that this was a secret base for telepaths— anything we can that will connect this place to some of the replay dreams Carrie and Kaid have had. A lot of fascinating archeological information is going to have to be sacrificed to do that, but," he looked up at Garras with a grin, "every now and then we can take the time out to properly excavate any really interesting finds."
"Have you had any news from the archaeologists at the site in the Kysubi plains yet?"
"Not much. Just that they're on to something big— a major town is buried under all those fields. They've done their scans and are currently deciding what area they think will yield the most finds. I've a feeling their choice is more likely to be dictated by which fields are lying fallow this winter than what they hope to find in a given area! I did hear that they're coming up with large numbers of small green stones unlike any other mineral yet found on Shola, though."
"Interesting. I wonder what conditions created them, where they come from."

 

* * *

 

The door to Sorli's study opened, and without ceremony, Esken walked in, pausing only long enough to pull up a chair.
"Have you read the book?" he asked, sitting down opposite the senior member of his tutorial staff.
Sorli sat back in his own chair, suppressing a sigh. Master Esken had become increasingly neglectful of his staff's feelings of late. He hoped the rift between him and the Clan Lord was soon healed. Life would be so much more pleasant again.
"I have, Master Esken. It was heavy going, though. I only completed my initial analysis half an hour ago. I still need to cross-reference it to other reputable sources." He started to rise. "May I offer you a drink?"
"No time, Sorli. I'm too busy to stay long. Just give me your first impressions."
Sorli reached for his comp pad. "I came across several warnings that were to be passed on to those training for the position of Guild Master. They've been repeated by each successive Master in turn throughout the book. It seems our ancestors were anticipating trouble. Have you ever read this volume, Master Esken?"
"I had a look at the book when I was training for this Office, of course." Esken paused for a moment, obviously reminiscing. "Suddenly having the wisdom and secrets of many of the past Guild Masters at your fingertips is an incentive for any trainee master to study books such as this, Sorli." He sighed. "But I do wish they hadn't wrapped up what they had to say in so many innuendos and mysteries."
Sorli grunted. "They give obscure a new meaning."
Esken looked at him sharply. "I hope you're not becoming judgmental, Sorli."
The Tutor assumed a slightly outraged expression.
Esken had the grace to glance away as he said, "I'm afraid when I first looked at them, I got mired in all that ancient history too. I promised myself I'd come back to it when I had time. It's surprising how closely ancient wisdoms are apt to resemble the day-to-day ramblings of senile predecessors, Sorli. No doubt you've already found that out for yourself, though." He sighed. "So what were the points you considered vital?"
Sorli looked at his comp pad. "They are, Firstly,
Record all visions and dreams pertaining to Vartra, for at times He enlightens his Chosen with true insights.
Secondly,
Bless all contrivances of ancient days, that they become Holy, for they hold the Green Seeds of New Regret.
Thirdly,
Cherish and keep close our Brother Priests of Stronghold, who were once our Claws and will be so again.
Fourthly— and here, Master Esken, I confess I wonder if some relevance to present times is implied—
Be ever vigilant against the False Priest, agent of Demons, tool of their Retribution, through whose Leadership the Griefs of our Past may yet destroy our Future.
"
Sorli paused and awaited Esken's reaction.
The Guild Master nodded. "That's more or less as I remember it, Sorli. Don't bother cross-referencing, I've done enough on that already. Essentially the same warnings go back a full eight generations earlier, and forward to our time. There are gaps, of course, but since the warnings span them, we can assume they remained essentially unchanged. Each Master in the records restates these warnings. My predecessor, Myaddu, thought them no more than ancient superstitions, but she was uneasy enough about the second injunction for me to maintain her policy of swift and thorough Blessings of the ruins."
"Obviously there's more to it than she thought, Master Esken. Twelve hundred years; that's a long time for so many superstitions to survive. I was unaware our records went back that far."
"So was I until I looked. Combine those warnings, Sorli. What do you get?"
"I find myself thinking of Fyak." He hadn't wanted to voice his fears lest words give them substance.
Esken did not disagree.
At last Sorli looked up. "It seems, Master Esken, that we're seeing a picture of a past we never suspected until Valtegan bones were found in our ruined cities. That one factor puts all our ancient writings into a completely different context." He scanned the pad, seeking some comfort in his notes. "My opinion has to be that this past is rushing to catch up with us now. How, I don't pretend to know."
"Nor do I, Sorli, nor do I. But as I said, you endorse my own conclusions."
"Remember the references to the '
Demons of Fire
'
?
Fyak mentions them, often and loudly, as do his Faithful. Too much of a coincidence?" Sorli warmed to his theme. "Fyak preaches the destruction of all telepaths, blaming them for causing the Cataclysm by conspiring with these demons. He warns his people those days will return unless they follow his teachings. Our lowland people care very little about religious dogma, they scent no danger in his rantings. To them he is obviously mad. Yet the desert tribes seem susceptible; their ears are wide open to his words, insane though his notions about social restructuring seem to us."
Esken held up his hand. "You've no need to convince me, Sorli. Are you therefore suggesting that the Valtegans are the demons, and Fyak the False Priest?"
"Yes, Master Esken. Interestingly enough, the region where Fyak lairs used to be called Khezy'ipik. Our name for it is Chezy."
"Khezy'ipik ...?"
"Recently, in my spare time, I've been assimilating the data that the Keissian, Jo, made available to us on the Valtegan language, in case we should ever need it. That name, Khezy'ipik, has a Valtegan ring to it."
"Ah. Does it?" Esken stood up. "I think I'll have that drink after all."
While he was occupied with the c'shar brewer, Sorli continued: "We now know Valtegan bones are regularly being found at all five sites where the Terran archeologists are digging. They obviously had a reasonably large presence on Shola. Also, large quantities of green stones— the
Green Seeds of New Regret?
— have been found in areas that appear to have been exclusively Valtegan. No purpose has been found for them as yet."
"I hate to admit it, Sorli, but it might be politic to let our opposition to the digging drop. No need for a major about-face. Just let the matter quietly die." He resumed his seat.
Sorli decided it was best not to comment on his Guild Master's decision. "Do you know that I can't find any mention of where Fyak comes from? Nor of a god called Kezule?"
"To hell with him and his God!" said Esken unexpectedly. "What we're going to
do
about him is more to the point!"
"We ought to give this new information to the relevant authorities," said Sorli. "Our traditional role is to facilitate communications, after all."
"I imagine the Forces' attention is already sharply focussed on Fyak," Esken said drily. "He's attacked the Laasoi guildhouse, abducted one Telepath, brain-damaged two more beyond hope of recovery, and caused the deaths of at least four others."
"Empire building?" suggested Sorli.
"Possibly, but we still have the dire warnings against investigating our past, and against demons to take into consideration. In the circumstances ..."
"Perhaps Father Lijou is already downwind of this question?" He was reluctant to add that Ghyan, currently serving in Vartra's newly appointed Shrine on the Valsgarth estate, might also be able to help. Ghyan's connections to the Aldatan clan would only inflame Esken's feud with Konis over the issue of the new Leska pairs. That particular insult had not yet been forgotten. Then he thought of what might be at stake and changed his mind.
"Master Esken, maybe you should approach Ghyan as well as Father Lijou. Lately we haven't kept as close contact with Stronghold as, according to those ancient texts, we should; they may have a lot to tell us. Our Leskas' dreams have always been relayed to Ghyan, and I know he, in turn, sends them on to Lijou. Neither of them reports back to us unless we specifically request it."
"It looks like I'm going to contact them, doesn't it? We have to be beyond personal politics. My differences with Clan Lord Aldatan must take second place."
As Esken stopped to take a drink of his c'shar, Sorli heaved an inward sigh of relief at his decision.
"Don't talk to anyone else regarding this matter, Sorli," Esken continued, "When we have something more solid, then we can approach the appropriate people."
"Will we be making this information available to the committee collating all the guild records?"
"All in good time, Sorli," said Esken, draining his mug and getting up.

 

* * *

 

Vanna was restless today. Carrie watched from the depths of her chair as her friend got up for perhaps the fifth time and began pacing the room. Instinct, coupled with the knowledge Taizia had given her, convinced her that Vanna was likely to go into labor today. The very fact she didn't feel a need to rest was significant in itself in these latter days of her pregnancy.
"This Derwent Human is strange, Carrie," she was saying as she paused by her desk. "I don't understand him. He must be talented or he wouldn't be on Shola, but ..." She broke off with a sigh and began pacing again, tail flicking rhythmically from side to side.
"But what, Vanna?"
"He attends the lectures at the Guild but refuses to take the tests so they can gauge his progress. He's also refused to have an aura scan, or cooperate in any attempts to chart his talents!"
"Then why is he here?"
Vanna stopped by the settee, carefully sitting down and pulling her legs up so she could stretch her gravid body out more comfortably.
"That's what I've been asking myself. I believe it may be that he's more interested in letting us hear
his
ideas. Several times he's been reprimanded for telling his theories to groups of Sholan students in the Guild refectory. He's even had the temerity to try preaching to Guardian Dhaika at Vartra's Retreat! If he goes on like this, they'll exclude him from the Guild, maybe even request his return to Earth. I can't say I'd be sorry."
"What's he been saying that's so radical?" asked Carrie, remembering her own early clashes with the Telepath Guild over its rigid ethical code. She watched Vanna continue to make herself more comfortable, suddenly realizing that her friend had never seemed so feline, so alien, as she did now.
"He's saying that our Talent is a gift from the Mother Goddess. Not the Green Goddess, you realize,
his
Goddess, and that we should be worshipping her and no one else."
Carrie frowned. "What's so bad about that?"
"Our work as telepaths bears no relationship to our religious beliefs, Carrie. You know that. Telling the young ones that the two are connected is wrong, very wrong. As for telling them which God or Goddess they should worship! That's a very personal matter, one to be discussed with the appropriate priests, not with someone who's a stranger to our culture."
"You shouldn't let it worry you, Vanna. It sounds to me like Master Esken's going to solve the problem for you. I don't know why you're letting yourself get so worked up about it. How did you hear about all this anyway? You haven't left the estate for weeks now."
"Brynne's friend Terry keeps me generally informed," she said. "As for the business at the Retreat, Brynne took Derwent there to look around. He was as embarrassed as I was at the way the man behaved! You're right, though. You know, I wouldn't be so concerned if it didn't involve Brynne. He's been seeing a lot of Derwent since the day that one arrived. Brynne told me last week that it was as if he'd had one of those visions that we all had when we first formed our links. He knew he had to be at the Guildhouse to meet one of the new arrivals from Earth, and he knew the one he was waiting for was Derwent the minute he set eyes on him."
"Stranger things have happened to us, Vanna. I'm the last one to say what is and isn't possible."
Vanna sighed. "I know. There's more. Derwent even stays apart from the other Terrans. He lives in a suite at the Accommodation Guildhouse in Valsgarth. Brynne goes there regularly to see him, and he won't tell me why! He's keeping something from me, Carrie," she said, pushing herself up on one elbow. "I may not have been able to use my talent for the last two months, but there's nothing wrong with my instincts and he's definitely hiding something from me! What are he and Derwent doing that I can't be told?"
Carrie eased herself out of her chair and went over to her friend, sitting on the floor beside her. Reaching up she took Vanna's hand in hers. "You're getting too worked up about it, Vanna," she said soothingly. "I'm sure it's nothing much to worry about. You and Brynne have been getting along so much better this last couple of weeks."
"That's only because of the cub," Vanna said fretfully. "I don't think he's really changed, nor does Garras."
"I'm sure you're wrong," she said. Then she sensed Brynne's arrival at the house. Dzaka had stopped him from entering and was asking why he was there.
She reached for the Terran, and as she made contact, she sensed what Vanna had been talking about. There was an area of his mind that was closed off in such a way that to Carrie at least, being of the same species, instantly drew attention to itself.
What can we do for you, Brynne?
she asked.
He was surprised at her sending to him, but that passed, to be replaced by a faint sense of confusion.
I came as quickly as I could when I realized she was in labor, but I thought Jack would be here.
As Carrie turned her attention back to Vanna, her friend's hand tightened on hers, claws extended and beginning to penetrate. She reached up with her other hand, easing the pressure of Vanna's fingers slightly.
She's just started. Get Dzaka to fetch Jack!
She cut him off and reached for Kusac.
It's time,
she sent.
Bring Garras. Brynne is already here, tell him that.
She sensed her mate's affirmative rather than heard it as she returned all her attention to Vanna.
There was a surprised and pained look on her friend's face as she lay on the settee, her other hand curved protectively around her belly.
"It can't be now," she said. "It's too early!"
"Only by a few days," said Carrie soothingly. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. Dzaka's gone for Jack, Brynne's on his way up, and Kusac's bringing Garras."
"No! I don't want either of them here!" she said, snatching her hand away from Carrie to place it with the other. "It's too early, I tell you!" Her ears were laid back flat and her pupils were enormous.
The door opened and Brynne entered, coming straight over to join them. Like many of the male Terrans, he'd chosen not to dress like the Sholans, and in his jeans and coat he looked completely out of place in the Sholan household.
Vanna's body had relaxed again but now she pushed herself upright, growling. "I don't want you here, Brynne!"
"We agreed I'd be here," he said quietly, crouching down beside Carrie. "Jack's on his way. Is there anything I can do?"
"Yes, leave!" she said, batting at him with one hand.
He caught it in his, exerting his strength against hers as she tried to pull free. "Vanna, you know you agreed, and you know why I have to be here," he said. "Paternity has to be registered. It causes less problems if it's done immediately." He hesitated. "Besides, I want to know you're both all right."
Carrie decided it would be a good idea to move and began to rise to her feet.
Angrily, Vanna swung out at Brynne. Carrie felt a sudden hard blow across her chest. Her mind froze in fear as she went flying backward. Then strong arms caught her in midair, grasping her close for a moment before setting her gently down on her feet.
"Liegena, are you all right?" Dzaka's face was creased with worry as he held her steady.
She passed a shaking hand across her forehead and nodded. "I'm fine, Dzaka. Thank you," she said with feeling as she looked up at him.
He steered her toward the chair, moving his grip to her elbow as she sat down. "I'm glad I was there," he said quietly, then turned to Vanna and Brynne. "Physician Reynolds is on his way," he said.
Vanna's hands were at her mouth in shock as she looked over at Carrie. "Oh, Gods, Carrie! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to ..." she tried to say, but Carrie interrupted her.
"I'm fine, Vanna. No harm done," she said. "Brynne, Jack'll want to examine her. Take her through to her room, would you? It'll save him time when he arrives."
Brynne nodded. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.
"Yes, fine. You see to Vanna."
Lifting Vanna up despite her protests, he carried her from the room. At least the near-accident had taken Vanna's attention away from her resentment of Brynne's presence, Carrie thought as she closed her eyes and relaxed back in her chair. The incident had shaken her more than she realized. Kusac was fretting and mentally she reassured him she was fine.
"Can I get you a drink?" asked Dzaka, hovering be-side her.
"Please," she said. "A c'shar." She found the rather bland drink more palatable than coffee these days.

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