'Why do you want me to—'
'Do you understand!' Gorian shook him.
'Ow, yes. Yes. Let go.'
Gorian did so and stood back up, the smile on his face again. 'We shouldn't fight, you and I. We are father and son, no matter what you think right now.'
'We wouldn't fight if you took me back home.'
Gorian's eyes flashed. Kessian backed off a pace.
'Last time,' he said quietly but in a tone of voice that made Kessian shiver. 'I mean it.' He reached down and grabbed Kessian's hand. 'Let's go. Keep quiet until you're spoken to.'
Kessian felt sick all over again. But he'd lost his appetite now. Gorian was gripping his wrist too tight. He wanted to pull away but dared not. Instead, he looked about him and tried to see what the fuss was about. The snow was all turned to slush where the soldiers had marched on it, churned with mud. It was very slippery. Kessian shook his arm to try and free his hand.
'It's all right, I'm not going to run or anything.'
Gorian looked down briefly and let him go. 'No, I don't suppose you are.'
They passed between two dazzling white cliffs and were heading up a slope towards more and more mountains and snow. The wind was cold in the valley and Kessian rubbed his mittened hands together.
'How far are we going?'
'Can you see those people at the top of the rise?' 'Yes.'
'There. That's where everyone is that I need you to see.' 'Why?'
'Because I said so, and because it will teach you some important things.'
More learning. It was always learning. Even at the Academy they had time to play. Here, there was no time at all.
'And don't think that about me, boy,' said Gorian.
'I wasn't thinking anything,' said Kessian, unable to keep the whine from his voice.
Unexpectedly, Gorian laughed.
'You know I was just like you at your age.'
'Were you?' Kessian didn't think it very likely.
'Of course. Like father, like son. Always picking at the corners, always kicking against authority, testing my boundaries. And so you should. It'll make you strong in mind.'
Kessian smiled.
'Just try and learn when to stop,' said Gorian, patting his shoulder. 'That's the difficult part.
Kessian wondered if he should try and be a bit like Gorian. At the Academy, understanding and tolerance were everything. Out here, being in charge was the best thing. And everyone listened to Gorian. They might even be scared of him. Gorian didn't seem to mind which it was.
'What did I help you do?'
'Watch out.'
Gorian's sharp tone stopped him in his tracks. At his feet lay a whole human arm. The fingers were curled around an axe and there was a ring on one finger. Kessian choked on a scream and stepped back, looking away. But suddenly, all he could see were arrows, spears, stones, blood and bones. Bits of people. And even one or two almost whole bodies, crushed and mangled. He gagged and put his hand to his mouth and nose though there was no smell. Just this horrible mess.
'What is it?' he asked weakly.
'This is a battlefield,' said Gorian. 'But a very special one.' Kessian wanted to back away. To turn and run. Dark was smeared over the slush. He'd thought it mud only it wasn't. 'Why?' It was the last thing he wanted to ask.
'Because if a man loses his arm on a normal battlefield, he falls beside it to die. Not our men, not our army. They carry on, do you see?'
Kessian shook his head. 'I don't—' 'Come over here.'
Gorian was moving to stand by a body with a spear in its lower back. A rock had all but crushed its head. Kessian tried to be strong but he gagged again. His heart was pounding and he thought he was going to be sick. It felt so bad here. Like sickness. Ossacer would know what it was.
Gorian knelt by the broken body and placed a hand on its neck. Kessian felt a rush of energy through the earth and the man's legs jerked and his fists clenched and unclenched.
'You're healing him!' breathed Kessian, his nausea forgotten.
'Oh no,' said Gorian. 'You cannot heal a man who is dead already. But you can make him live again. And move. Come and touch him. Tell me what you feel.'
Kessian backed off shaking his head but with his eyes locked on the reanimated man. The body twitched and writhed. It made no sound. He felt a pain low in his stomach. The man clawed at the back of his head, trying to move the rock that lay on his shattered skull. Gorian rolled it away, wiping gore off on his cloak. Kessian dropped to his knees and was sick. He couldn't help it. There was nothing left of his head. The whole back of it was splintered and the brain inside was smeared over rock, bone and slush. His face was pressed into the ground. He was trying to turn it up but he couldn't do it.
'It's all right, Kessian. Don't be ashamed. This one doesn't look too pretty, does he?'
'We mustn't meddle with the cycle of life,' said Kessian. 'He should be returned to the embrace of God.' He retched and spat. His mouth tasted horrible.
'Direct from the Omniscient's scriptures no doubt,' said Gorian. 'But the scriptures are old. We are the new power and the Order is scared of us because of what we understand. We all worship the Omniscient, Kessian, but we must be allowed to do his work in the best ways we can.'
'But—'
'Do you think this man wants to return to the earth? I gave him another chance. Is that not a miracle?'
Kessian was confused. This man was broken beyond repair. He reached out with his mind and recoiled from what he felt. 'He is in agony,' he said.
Gorian looked across at him, a slight frown on his face.
'Does that matter? He was not breathing and now he is. Now, admittedly this subject isn't useful to me. His back is broken so he cannot support his torso and there is little muscle left in his neck to turn his head. It doesn't matter. The point is that I can do it and you can do it too, if I show you. And to answer an earlier question, your natural use of energies is amazing. I can use the well of power you draw in to help me make these people live again.'
Kessian heard him. He even understood all the words. But it made no sense.
'Why?'
'Come here.' Gorian's gesture was insistent and Kessian pushed himself back to his feet and dragged himself over to the body that was still jerking soundlessly. 'I know you can do this so just listen. Ossacer will have taught you. Place your hand where mine is and open your mind to the energy map of this subject. Remember, he was dead until I touched him. I want you to tell me how you think I managed to make him live and move again.'
‘I
don't want to touch him,' said Kessian. 'Please don't make me.'
The wind was whistling north along the valley, gaining strength. He was cold and he was scared. He shivered, wanting the nightmare to end only he knew it wouldn't. Tears broke around his eyes and ran down his face. At his feet, the body twitched violently and was still.
'All right,' said Gorian, sounding irritable. 'He isn't in pain any more if that makes you feel better.'
Kessian felt some semblance of normality return to the earth and the world around him. The clamouring and complaint he sensed in the fibres of energy subsided.
'The earth is angry you did that,' said Kessian.
Gorian's eyes locked on to his, the power in that gaze almost overwhelming. But there was light in his eyes, and joy.
'You could feel that?'
‘I
couldn't shut it out. Why do you think I was sick?' 'Don't get sharp with me, Kessian. This is important.' 'Why?'
'Because it means you can feel something it took me years to feel.
It makes you even better, even more useful, than I thought you were.' 'Oh.'
Gorian frowned. 'You should feel glad about that. This is a wild land. Power is everything.'
Kessian said nothing for a moment. He felt uncomfortable, like he'd seen something he shouldn't and was about to-be found out.
'I still don't know what we're doing here.'
'I've told you,' said Gorian. 'Taking the Ascendants from the shadows. Putting us where we belong.' 'All of us?'
Gorian ruffled Kessian's hair inside his cloak hood. 'All who believe as I do. Come on.'
Kessian stared down at the body one last time.
'Why do you want to make the dead live again?'
'Because we need our own army. We have no country of our own like the Conquord or the Kingdom of Tsard and we must not rely on others. These people, the dead that I can give life to once again, will be ours to command. They will fight for us and be loyal only to us.' There was an odd light in Gorian's eyes, a grim delight. 'They will want nothing, they will need nothing but our blessing to continue walking. What do you think about that? Your own fighting force?'
Kessian had wooden soldiers at home. One of the carpenters on the Hill made him a whole maniple and a miniature catapult. Gorian's tone made the dead sound like toys.
'They should be granted rest in God's embrace,' said Kessian.
'These are soldiers!' Gorian's shout bounced off the valley sides and Kessian winced. 'There is not one among them who wanted to die or whose time had been called by God. Every one of them wanted to live on. I give them that chance. Don't you understand? I am helping them and in return, they fight for me. It's so simple, Kessian, why don't you get it?'
'But in that place you took me to
...'
'Wystrial,' said Gorian.
'They were not soldiers. Just ordinary people.'
Gorian sighed. 'There was a plague there. Terribly unfortunate. And you're right, it killed ordinary people. Some of those we managed to make live again and they helped us load ships, didn't they? And now they are returned again to God's embrace. But there were soldiers too. The garrison and lots of legionaries. None of these people chose to die. These were good honest people and a horrible death found them. I gave them life again and here they are. Is that not a good thing?' 'I suppose,' said Kessian.
'And if you were in their shoes, and your life was snatched from you even though you were faithful to the Omniscient, would you not choose to live and breathe and walk again if you could?'
Kessian considered for a moment and felt his mood brighten. 'I would.'
Gorian nodded and smiled. 'As would I. However briefly. And whatever I was asked to do. And if an Ascendant has saved them, is it not right that they leave their prior allegiance and work for that Ascendant?'
'I suppose so,' said Kessian.
'That's all there is to it. Now come on, come and meet the king and think on the good we are doing for the unfortunate dead.'
He was right, of course. No one chose to be dead. Old people, like very sick people, sometimes said they'd had enough and welcomed a return to the earth but that was about as far as it went. It was a strange thing to consider. You could get second chances at many things but never at life once you were dead. Until now.
'What does it feel like to be woken up after you've been dead?' asked Kessian once they were well on their way.
Ahead, he could see the slope rising up to the top of the valley. A lot of people were up there. They were standing in two groups. One was still and he realised who they were. The other was bigger and hard at work setting up a new camp. There were already a lot of fires alight. He could already imagine the warmth just as he could see it through the excited energy trails in the air. His mother had taught him loads about fire. He loved it.
'I don't know,' said Gorian. 'It's a very good question. We'll research it together, how's that?'
'Why don't we just ask one of them?' asked Kessian.
'Because they may not speak their opinion,' said Gorian.
'Why not?'
'Because they do not need to speak to do the work they must do. How do you think someone feels if their last memory is of death and they open their eyes on God's blessed earth once again?'
Kessian thought for a moment. 'I think they might be frightened. They might think it was their next cycle on the earth beginning but then they might think they were lucky that they had another chance at the old one.'
Gorian chuckled. 'I think so too. And because of that, there is no need to speak, is there? I speak for them instead.'
Kessian shook his head although it didn't make much sense. Gorian was sure and there were things he understood better than anyone. The two of them fell silent and Kessian found his eyes drawn more and more towards the reawakened dead standing or sitting silent up on the rise to his left. There was quite a distance between them and the regular Tsardon army.