Broken World Book Four - The Staff of Law (30 page)

Wiping away
tears of laughter, she said, “Maybe you should be a comedian.”

Snatching up a
napkin, he draped it over his head and bounced around the kitchen,
pulling faces and keeping Talsy and Danya in stitches. Leaping past
the door, he collided with Dancer, who stepped accidentally into
his path. A flash of blue fire sprang up between them and they
recoiled, Chanter tripping and falling backwards. He burst out
laughing, and Dancer joined in, reaching down to help him to his
feet.

“
Getting some exercise, Father?” the youngster
enquired.

Chanter waved
the napkin. “Becoming a comedian.”

Talsy giggled.
“I’m sure everyone would pay well to see you make an ass of
yourself.”

In a flash of
icy Dolana, Chanter became a grey donkey and let out an
ear-splitting bray. Dancer doubled over with mirth, and Talsy’s gut
ached as she choked, “I didn’t mean literally, Chanter.”

Kieran walked
in, looking confused at the mirthful ruckus. “What on earth is
going on?”

Everyone
collapsed in fresh peals of laughter, the donkey braying loudest of
all. When at last she could speak again, Talsy said, “We were just
discussing how we’re going to support my grandchild, and granddad,
over there, thinks he should become a comedian.”

Kieran stared
at the donkey. “Chanter? Grandchild?” He glanced at Danya. “Oh,
no.”

“
Oh yes,” Talsy giggled, “I’m afraid so.”

Kieran sank
into a chair and Chanter turned back into a man, making Talsy
shiver and rub her arms. Dancer helped himself to a bowl of broth
and joined in the merry gathering around the table, discussing ways
of putting Chanter’s talents to work. The young Mujar looked
surprised and confused when he was roped in as uncle. Mujar had no
concept of family, so this took a lot of explaining, which only
seemed to confuse the youngster even more.

Eventually
Sheera chased them out so she could cook supper, and they went
their separate ways, Danya content that she would be looked after.
After Talsy fed Drummer his broth, she wandered down to the chamber
where the Staff of Law hung in the air above the cracked
depression. Drifts of blood-red sand now covered the floor, piling
up against the walls, lurid in the torchlight. Talsy gazed at the
seamed grey staff, watching the tiny flaring of the lower lines of
law.

“
I must send it back,” Chanter said, emerging from the shadows
and making her jump, “before it fills this valley with
sand.”

“
Where will it go?”

“
Back to where it came from, on the shores of the inland
sea.”

“
One pebble amongst millions.” She sighed. “It’s so reassuring
to see it here, whole again.”

“
Yes, but it doesn’t belong here. Besides, as soon as Drummer
wakes, he and Dancer must find more chosen and we must set out for
the Plains of Redemption.”

“
Why the rush?” she enquired.

“
The Hashon Jahar are on the move again, passing through this
land to that same destination. We have to stay ahead of them if we
want to save all our chosen.”

She suppressed
a shiver at the mention of the Black Riders. “Once you send it
back, it’ll be lost again for all time, won’t it?”

He nodded.
“Unless summoned, but only a Mujar can summon the Staff of Law,
unlike the lesser staffs. Yet that’s how it should be. It was never
meant to be found, and its discovery brought tragedy.”

Talsy walked
up to the staff and ran her fingers along its lines of law,
caressing the gnarled stone. As Chanter had once told her, the
Staff of Law bestowed no sensation, unlike the Staff of Life. Its
surface was chilly to the touch, but otherwise inert. She stepped
back and turned to Chanter.

“
Will you do it now?”

“
Perhaps some should bear witness; otherwise they may become
alarmed by its disappearance.”

They left the
staff in its silent, sandy prison, and Talsy went to tell Sheera of
their intention, knowing that the old seer would spread the word.
Having decided to send the staff back, Chanter wasted no time. The
following day, Talsy invited a group of chosen into the staff’s
chamber to witness the event. She stood before the staff, soaking
up the awe it inspired as she consigned the sight of it to memory
forever. She wished that it could stay here, in the place where it
had been reborn, but the ominous red sand that lapped at the walls
told her that it did not belong in a place such as this. As soon a
muttering crowd had assembled, Chanter faced the staff.

“
Staff of Law, your restoration is complete. Have you anything
to say before I send you back to the place where you
belong?”

The golden
fire wrote, “Great happiness and sorrow awaits the chosen of the
gods, but, in the generations to come, their kind will bring more
destruction to this world. Even then, I must never be found
again.”

“
How will we bring more destruction after we’ve passed the
final testing?” Talsy asked, frowning.

“
Not you, nor your descendants, but others of your
kind.”

“
What others?”

“
Others of your kind,” the staff repeated.

Talsy looked
at Chanter, who shook his head. “It’s a prophecy. The staff will
say no more.” He addressed it again. “Is this a new law, that you
must never be found again?”

“
No, it is a warning; let it be written amongst
Truemankind.”

“
So it shall,” Chanter averred. “Anything else?”

“
No. Send me back.”

The Mujar
nodded and raised a hand, palm towards the Staff of Law. “Go
back.”

The staff of
ancient stone melted away, replaced by a rod of utter darkness
filled with distant a swirl of stars. The Trueman watchers gasped,
entranced.

Chanter said
again, “Go back.”

The pillar of
darkness shrank into an inconspicuous brown pebble that floated in
the air.

The Mujar
spoke a final time. “Go back.”

The pebble
vanished, and a concerted sigh went through the audience as the
room became empty without the formidable presence of the Staff of
Law. People stared at the place where it had stood, bereft, while
some wept. Talsy shared their sorrow. Its presence had been a
solid, comforting part of their lives since its restoration. Every
day, people had come here to gaze upon it, to watch the flaring of
its golden laws and draw courage from its passive, ordering
power.

Eventually, it
would have become an object of worship, as Truemen tended to do
with objects of great power. Before that happened, however, it
would have driven everyone from the valley with its creeping red
desert and lifeless sphere of influence. It was better that it had
been returned to its home, where it could not be found again. Since
only she and the Mujar could understand the staff’s writing, Talsy
told the chosen of its warning and asked that someone write it down
for posterity.

On a distant
stony shore swept by an inland sea’s salty waters, a pebble dropped
from the sky. A gull swooped at the movement, then veered away with
a cry of disappointment. A wave washed over the dull brown pebble,
so like its neighbours that to glance away for an instant was to
lose it forever. When the wave withdrew, the pebble was lost.

Drummer woke
three days after the staff was sent back, and rose weakly from his
bed. Talsy helped him to the kitchen, where he lived for a week,
ate like a starving child and put on almost all the weight he had
lost. His mind seemed to be a blank slate, cleansed of all memory
of being Travain and all that had happened to him. Although now he
could draw upon racial memories previously denied him, like any
young Mujar in a new environment, his curiosity was insatiable and
his questions endless. Since he did not have the energy to explore
his new world, he probed the minds of those around him. His
constant queries nearly drove Sheera to distraction, and she piled
food in front of him to fill his mouth with something other than
questions. When at last his hunger abated, he had filled out to a
slightly heavier build than Chanter, shorter and broader than his
father, but lacking Travain’s excess flesh.

Drummer did
not recognise Talsy, and, when Chanter explained who she was,
became confused and uncertain, having no notion of the meaning of
the word ‘mother’. Mujar rarely argued, but he could not understand
what Chanter told him, and said so repeatedly, frustrating
Chanter’s attempts to explain how he had been brought into the
world. The idea that he had somehow come from Talsy’s body was
beyond his comprehension, though he tried to assimilate this
astounding information.

He shook his
head, regarding her doubtfully. “She’s Trueman.”

Chanter leant
tiredly on the table. “I know. Once you were half Trueman, when the
laws were broken, now you’re pure.”

“
Mujar come from the land.”

“
Yes, well, usually.” Chanter sighed and ran a hand through his
hair, glancing at Talsy, who bit her lip, trying to hide her
anguish. Sheera, who stood by the stove, stirring a bubbling pot,
shook her head in sympathy.

“
Always,” Drummer argued.

“
She’s your mother, Drummer. I’m teaching you this.”

“
I don’t understand, Father.”

Chanter
glanced at Talsy again, unwilling to cause her more pain. The idea
that she had given him life was too alien for Drummer to accept,
and Chanter gave up. “You owe her a great Wish, Drummer. You don’t
remember it, but you do. Will you offer her gratitude?”

“
What did she do for me?”

“
She saved you... from a terrible fate.”

Drummer
frowned. “Why don’t I remember this?”

“
Your suffering obliterated it. Mujar don’t remember such
things.”

The youngster
nodded. “This is true. You are my father Mujar; you would not lie
to me. I accept your word.” Drummer rose and held out his hand to
Talsy, palm up. “Gratitude.”

Talsy nodded,
fighting back the tears that threatened. “Wish.”

“
Wish.”

“
I want you to call me ‘Mother’, respond to the name Travain,
and be my companion when I ask you to.”

Drummer
glanced at his father. “Big wish.”

“
It’s fair.”

“
Then I shall grant it, Father.”

“
Good.” Chanter stood up and took Talsy’s hands. “Does this
please you?”

She nodded.
“You know it does. Thank you.”

Drummer sank
back into his chair as Sheera plonked another bowl of stew down in
front of him with a motherly smile. The young Mujar began to eat,
studying Talsy.

“
This name you wish me to call you, is it a term of
respect?”

“
Yes,” she replied. “It’s the same as calling Chanter
‘Father’.”

“
I see.” He spooned the stew, losing interest.

Chanter led
Talsy out and steered her along the corridor towards the garden.
“Come, let’s go for a walk. I know it’s no consolation for what
you’ve lost, but you have now attained the enviable status of
having three Mujar in your debt, since your Wish with Dancer still
lingers.”

She smiled at
him. “I suppose so, but it wasn’t easy.”

“
No, you’ve paid dearly for the privilege, perhaps too dearly.
But what you’ve done only proves how special you are. No other
Trueman has managed to incur such debt in one Mujar, let alone
three.”

“
I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He chuckled.
“No, I suppose not, especially in Drummer’s case.”

Chanter guided
her to the stone bench under the peach tree, where he stretched out
his legs and settled down to enjoy the warm sunlight. Talsy picked
a peach and nibbled it as she gazed across the garden. Since the
restoration of the laws, life in the valley had become idyllic.
Most had forgotten about the troubles that still dogged the world
outside in the form of the newly risen Hashon Jahar and their
interrupted journey to the Gathering. Many did not want to be
reminded, and leaving the valley would come as a rude uprooting
after seven years. Talsy wished that she could simply forget about
the world outside and enjoy her little portion of happiness.
Especially now. Her hand crept to her belly and clasped it.

“
Chanter.”

“
Mmmm?”

“
I have news... good, I hope.”

“
What is it?”

She drew in a
deep breath. “I’m with child.”

He opened one
eye and smiled. “Kieran?”

“
No!” She scowled at him. “I haven’t lain with him!”

“
Then who?”

“
You, of course.”

“
Impossible.” He shook his head, frowning.

“
It happened before the laws were put back. I thought it would
die when they did, and it was still in the early stages. It would
have been a simple miscarriage... but it didn’t die.”

He sat up, his
expression perplexed. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

“
But it’s happened. I suppose... it must be a Trueman child,
like Danya’s?”

“
No... I don’t know. Travain was only half Mujar at the time,
but if it’s mine...” He rubbed his brow. “Only one thing is
certain. It can’t be a crossbreed. Not a true one.”

“
Then what?”

He pondered
for a moment. “If you conceived a crossbreed child while there were
no laws, and it survived the reinstatement of them, the gods have
allowed it. Perhaps it’s your reward. Perhaps it’s an acceptable
crossbreed, because of that.”