Motherstone Read online

  ‘You can’t,’ Nick cried. ‘There’s Susan.’

  ‘Yeah, I ain’t fergotten.’

  ‘Was she there? With the army? With the king?’

  ‘No, she weren’t. No one’s seen ’er. Not since that time on the sand.’

  ‘Then …’

  ‘No,’ Jimmy said sharply. ‘She ain’t dead. I dunno where she is but she ain’t dead.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because of Ben. He ain’t felt it.’

  Nick looked at the bear drinking placidly from the fountain. He lifted his head and looked at Nick and suddenly Susan was there, in his mind – Susan alive. His knees went weak with relief. He sat down beside Jimmy.

  ‘He don’t know where she is, Nick. He can’t tell. She’s a big country. She’s a bloddy nightmare. Makes Rotorua look like a Turkish bath. Steam an’ boilin’ pools an’ lakes of mud. Lava runnin’ like tomato soup. An’ sand, hot sand, fries yer like an egg. Ole Ben, he likes the ice. He couldn’ take it. Bloddy near pegged out. So we come back. But he knows she ain’t snuffed it. He would’ve felt. Like a kind’ve needle going in. That’s what it’s like when someone dies that they’re friendly with.’

  ‘Then where is she?’

  ‘Wish I knew. But I reckon she’s out of them Hotlands. It’s swarming with them geezers now, painted red an’ blue. They’d have her if she was there, head on a pole. Ole Ben, he reckons we should look down by the coast. Reckon ’e wants ter catch a fish or two, the cunnin’ ole bogger.’

  ‘Let’s go then. Let’s go now.’

  ‘In the mornin’, eh. We gotter rest. And Dawn’s on ’er way.’

  ‘Dawn?’

  ‘She went down south. Teamed up with ’er mate. They’re comin’ back. Be here termorrer. Ben can tell. Now I gotter get some shuteye, Nick. Been walkin’ five days straight. Me feet’s all swollen up like Christmas puddin’s.’

  ‘I’ll find you a room in the tower,’ Soona said. ‘What about Ben?’

  ‘He can doss down here. Might catch some goldfish in them pools, eh ole feller?’

  When Nick passed Jimmy’s door on his way to bed the old man was snoring like a sawmill. In the morning Limpy came and took them to the Council Hall. Yellowclaw had arrived and made his report, but Dawn and her Varg were out in Wildwood. The bear was shy of humans, Jimmy said, and would not come in.

  ‘We’ll team up with them later on today when we take orf.’

  ‘Are we going today?’

  ‘No use wastin’ time. You fit enough?’

  ‘I could run a marathon,’ Nick said.

  Yellowclaw came and gave him a friendly pat with one of his wings. ‘You’re thinner, Nick. And you have scars. And harder now. And older. That is plain. You have grown up fast.’

  ‘No news of Susan?’

  ‘None. She’s not with this Osro and his army, we’re sure of that. But Silverwing and I will search with you. There’s no more we can do for Kenno.’

  ‘Is Osro’s army big?’

  ‘The tribes are massing. Men so fierce and so in love with killing they remind me of Bloodcats. Women too, with spears and clubs and axes. And babies strapped on their backs. There are thousands of them. How this Osro bends them to his will we do not know. Kenno’s army will need all its courage. And there is talk of a Weapon – some new thing that shoots fire at the sky.’

  ‘That’s how Osro holds them, with fire.’

  ‘Birds cannot fight it. This will be a battle fought by humans.’

  Nick looked at Kenno. He sat in a raised chair at one end of a huge oval table. Around were thirty or thirty-five men, no women. They were merchants and shopkeepers of the town, Nick supposed; and several were ex-priests, for they raised their hands by habit to where Ferris bones had hung from their necks. They were soft men, or withered; quick and cunning men of property, who would naturally find places on this – what was it called? – interim council. Alongside them, Kenno the fisherman was brown and weatherbeaten, slow and strong – and confused. Nick saw how he turned his head as if he wondered how he had come here. And then he blinked, and set his mouth. When he spoke the others inclined their heads, agreed with him, but Nick had the feeling he spoke words they chose. They talked of conscripting men, appointing generals, arming regiments. Of contracts for this and that. ‘Yes, yes,’ Kenno said, ‘as long as we are ready. The details of payment I leave to you.’

  ‘Why is his chair higher than the others?’ Nick whispered.

  ‘They voted it to him. He did not want it,’ Soona said.

  ‘They’ll vote him emperor next,’ Jimmy growled. Nick said nothing, but agreed. He did not think the common people would vote. Somehow the times would never be right for elections. Kenno would be king or emperor, or maybe just president for life. These men would manage him and he would not know. And then, when his usefulness was done, someone would organize a coup. And they would execute the ‘tyrants’. Perhaps they would throw them off Sheercliff. Kenno and poor Limpy. Soona too …

  His reverie was broken by a noise at the door. A man hurried in, waving a piece of paper, and ran round the table to Kenno’s chair. Kenno looked at the paper, then handed it to the secretary beside him. Of course, Nick thought, he can’t read. That must be handy for the ones who managed him. The secretary – a hungry-looking ex-priest – scanned the paper. His eyes gleamed. He whispered to Kenno and they conferred with the man who had come in. Then Kenno said, ‘Council members, our scientists have uncovered the secret of Osro’s Weapon. Here is their report. It is hard to understand, but I will ask the Chief Scientist to tell it simply.’ He had a chair brought and the man sat down and began to talk. His excitement infected everyone at the table.

  ‘Men of O, it is this. Osro had a store of ancient books and there he found the pathway to his Weapon. Whatever his faults, he was a great man. Years he must have studied, hidden behind the false wall in his cell. His calculations – the intricacy of them. And his apparatus, experiments, they take the breath away – ’

  ‘Enough of this,’ cried a fat man halfway round the table. ‘Speak of the Weapon. Can you make it?’

  ‘Yes. I have a team. They are working now. The mechanics are difficult. But, six days, seven, it will be done. And the materials. I have sent men out. There are deposits south along the coast, and inland, in the mountains, at the back of the Throat of the Underworld. Osro had the places marked. And trees are being tapped for oils. All is under way.’

  ‘What does it do, this Weapon?’

  The Chief Scientist sighed. He raised his glowing eyes. ‘Marvels of destruction.’

  ‘Be precise.’

  ‘We make a construction of multiple chambers. And place in each an ingredient. Metal. Vapour. Oil. And bring them together – with great care. With absolute precision. And contain their meeting, and direct their force …’

  ‘Force?’

  ‘A beam. A beam of – something. Light or fire, we do not know.’

  ‘What does it do?’

  The man drew in his breath. ‘What does it not do? It will burn trees and melt stone. And shrivel men to ashes, more quickly than that.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘It will make lakes boil. It will sear down buildings, wood or brick or marble, it matters not.’

  ‘How wide is the beam?’

  ‘It can be widened or narrowed. Made stronger or weaker. That is simple.’

  ‘The range?’

  ‘With it I can melt the tops of the mountains beyond Wildwood.’

  ‘Ha!’ cried the fat man excitedly.

  ‘But Osro has the Weapon,’ Kenno said.

  ‘Then we must have more and better ones,’ the fat man said. ‘And strike before he is ready. Then we can go further north. The tribes there are even more primitive than the Hotlanders. It will be our mission to conquer and civilize them. And then, the riches, the trade.’

  ‘Hold!’ Kenno said. ‘We will have no talk of conquest. Our war against Osro is defensive.’

  ‘And you mustn’t make these weapons
,’ Nick cried. ‘You must capture Osro before he can use his.’

  ‘Who is this boy?’ the fat man said.

  ‘By what right does he speak?’ another asked.

  ‘Father,’ Soona called out, ‘Nick is right. Please don’t make it. The old tales say it consumes its maker.’

  ‘And it is forbidden to Birdfolk,’ Yellowclaw said. ‘The Weapon is evil. We can have no part in this war.’

  ‘Would you have us sit here while Osro conquers us?’ Kenno said.

  ‘Capture him. Before he makes his Weapon. We will help in that.’

  ‘It is made already. He knew the way,’ the scientist cried.

  ‘Then Birdfolk must withdraw from your battle.’

  ‘Withdraw from our Council Hall too,’ the fat man said. ‘Withdraw over your mountains. We do not need you. We have the Weapon.’

  ‘Hold!’ Kenno cried. ‘Silence!’ When all was quiet, he turned sadly to Nick and Jimmy and the Birdfolk. ‘We thank you for your help. But our ways must part. We must fight this war, and fight with the Weapon. That is clear. Osro must not rule. He would want the whole of O. No one would be safe. So we must stop him. But Birdfolk and Woodlanders and Varg are safe from us. All the Folk. We seek no conquest.’ He believed it, Nick saw, and he felt overwhelmed with sorrow for Kenno. ‘Now you must go and seek your friend and take her back to Earth. And we must go on with our counsels. That is the way of it. So – goodbye.’

  ‘Father,’ Soona said, ‘I will go with them. Susan is my friend.’

  ‘As you choose, my daughter. Come back safely. If all goes well we will know peace then.’

  They turned and left the chamber, left Kenno and his Councilmen talking of the Weapon, and banded together at the Temple gates. Limpy came to say goodbye. Now that they were leaving, he seemed to regret his sharp words to Nick. They shook hands.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Limpy said, ‘we’ll beat Osro.’

  ‘Look after your father. He needs help,’ Nick replied.

  Limpy did not understand. He embraced his sister and stood waving at the gate, a lopsided figure, until their path took them into the forest.

  Dawn and her Varg were waiting there. The sight of the Woodlander girl lifted Nick’s spirits: her downy, coloured face, her laugh, her quickness. The bears nuzzled each other. Over the trees, Silverwing and Yellowclaw called greetings.

  ‘Which way shall we go, Jimmy?’ Nick said.

  ‘North up through the mountains. Then down to the coast. I’m not going near them Hotlands. Makes me feel like bacon in a pan.’

  ‘That’s a long way.’

  ‘We gotter start somewhere. It ain’t gunner be easy, Nick. She’s a big country.’

  ‘I know. Are you ready, Soona?’

  She was standing apart, looking at her flute. She raised it and blew notes, soft and dark. They echoed in the trees. He frowned at her. ‘Come on. There’s no time for music.’

  She smiled. ‘Nick,’ she said, ‘there’s someone we should ask.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Susan. Can you find a cave for me? One that goes deep into the hills.’

  Chapter Five

  The Hotlands

  For the first time in their five-day march Susan felt more than a thing of rags, led on a string. She felt her heart beating. Tears ran on her cheeks and dripped as hot as candle wax on her arms. Osro had knocked Slarda down and was kicking her. She heard the woman squeal and Osro grunt. It did not matter. They were puppets now, rags and bone. Nick was alive, he was not dead. If that was true (and it was true, for Yellowclaw had said it) Osro could be beaten. For five days she had trodden numbly, expecting her death. She was not afraid now.

  Yellowclaw and the Birdfolk turned in the sky, out of bowshot. She knew how sharp their eyes were, and she smiled at them, said, ‘Thank you.’ They would see.

  ‘Master,’ Slarda cried, ‘you are killing me.’

  Osro kicked again. ‘The boy was dead. You told me. You lied.’

  ‘No, Master. We heard our bolts strike home. We saw him fall. Greely and I.’

  Osro swung to the girl, trembling nearby.

  ‘Saw him. Pierced him with our bolts,’ she cried. ‘We heard his body fall in the river.’

  Osro struck her face flat-handed. ‘I am cursed with fools. The boy tricked you.’

  ‘The Birds are lying, Master.’

  ‘They don’t lie.’

  Slarda said, ‘Does it matter? He can do no harm.’

  ‘I spoke to him of the Weapon. He will tell this Council of Freemen. They will make their own.’

  ‘Master, it is difficult – ’

  ‘It is not. The work is done, written down for them to find.’

  ‘Perhaps he will not speak. He will forget.’

  ‘Perhaps! There is no perhaps. We must raise our army. Strike before they are ready. And we must lose these sky-borne vermin now. Get up. Bring the girl. She is useful yet.’

  He turned across the red dunes towards the rim of jungle. It shimmered in a haze. The sand was the colour of rusty iron. Heat rose from it, throbbing. They walked through ponds of heat. Susan felt if she did not keep her head up she would drown. Steen walked behind, holding her rope. A change had come on Steen since Nick had crushed the Shy in his face. He rarely spoke. He watched Susan with strange puzzled eyes. For two days he had ridden in a litter. Then he walked again, but not as guide. He had lost his hardness, seemed to dream and wonder. The others no longer spoke to him. Slarda took his crossbow. He was useful only as Susan’s guard. She welcomed his turn on her rope. He let it hang more loosely than the others. And sometimes, when they paused on the burning sand, he stood so his shadow fell on her and eased the sun.

  The Birdfolk were specks. As the day went on she lost any sense that they were real. They were tiny things suspended in a pool. They were specks swimming in her eye. The jungle rose. It was black and green, full of openings where creepers hung like fly-stops in doorways. Blood-red flowers lay in the darkness, beating, pulsing. She stepped into the shade. It was warm and wet. She felt as if she had gone inside an animal’s body. The desert was its skin. This was mouth and gullet. She was swallowed.

  Steen nudged her on. They went down, climbing, sliding, deep into a gully where everything that grew was black or brown and grown too large. Leaves like rubber doormats, limp and fat. Flowers with black trumpets and black tongues, opening wider than an oil drum and giving out a stink like ensilage. She looked up. The sky was gone.

  ‘They cannot see us,’ Osro said. ‘But somewhere we must cross the sands again. Then the tribes will find us and Birds trouble us no more.’

  And, Susan thought, they won’t need me. Insects as large as sparrows were droning up from the gully bed. They made a dancing iridescent flash. One of the women cried with pain. Quietly, unseen, Steen unrolled his blanket and covered Susan’s head.

  ‘Master, we must climb out of here,’ Slarda said. ‘These bloodsuckers are too many to fight.’

  ‘Keep on a while. We must strike in deep.’

  They went down the gully in a whirl and hum of insects. Somewhere on the higher plains a beast was roaring like a Jersey bull. Slarda armed her bow. The gully ended in a swamp where trees grew knee-deep in water red as plum juice. Bubbles rose in it and sat on the surface. Susan wondered if they were eyes, but they burst with a sticky pop and new ones oozed up to replace them. Something was stirring deep down in the water. She knew if she escaped she would not live long in this jungle.

  They climbed into a drier place and the insects fell away. The jungle opened out, with taller trees, and colours more like those of Earth. Susan felt it was like the bush around her home. There were creepers like supple-jack, and others that grabbed like bush lawyer. Ferns grew in the under-storey, and tiny birds looped and darted, catching gnats. Somewhere high, another sang like a tui. Osro led them on for several hours, and Susan knew that if she got away she would have a chance here. There were even fruits she recognized from Wildwood. Steen picked one and g
ave it to her to eat.

  Towards dark they came to broken hills and criss-crossed gullies. Steam rose from hollows in the ground and once shot hissing from a mouth-shaped hole in the side of a hill. She had guessed they were coming to this, for the jungle had been wrapped in a rotten-egg smell for some time. They crossed a little creek where the water ran warm. She hoped that tonight she would be able to wash her face and hands in a hot pool.

  Osro stopped and the guards made camp. Slarda and Greely went off to hunt and came back with the carcase of an animal like a pig. They boiled pieces of it in a pool that bubbled in a cluster of stones. Osro had gone into his shelter. He ate alone. Steen brought Susan meat and fruit, and later let her wash with the women guards in a deep warm basin above the camp. She slept almost comfortably that night. No chance came for escape, but she consoled herself with the knowledge that Nick was alive and free.

  For two more days they travelled north. At times the steam was so dense the jungle seemed on fire. Mud lakes boiled like porridge pots. Cliffs steamed and geysers burst from mounds and roared in jets and sprays and feathers high into the air. Around them the bush was warped and mineral-crusted. The trunks of trees gleamed white and pink and blue.

  They cooked pig-meat and deer-meat, and caught crayfish in cold pools and boiled them in hot. Susan felt almost too well-fed. But she watched everything. She might have to survive alone in this place.

  On the third night Slarda said, ‘Master, tomorrow we will reach the sands again and we must cross.’

  ‘We have the girl. And we can cross at night if we need. There is no danger.’

  ‘Then,’ Slarda said, ‘let us rid ourselves of her. She slows our march.’

  ‘Keep her, keep her,’ Osro said. ‘You can have her soon.’

  He had eaten with them, not in his shelter. He was pleased with himself that night. ‘Earth-girl, you have travelled with the ruler of O. But you do not seem to know who I am.’