Melforger (The Melforger Chronicles) (34 page)

“Where’s he gone?” asked Raf nervously.

“
Ishranga
, do not fear, I will bring your Elder and the go-between. Then we talk.”

“I seem to have been doing a lot of that recently,” said Raf wryly. “To be honest, I… I was hoping you’d be able to tell me a few things.”

“Yes?”

“Well… what did you mean about the disease?”

Her face grew serious and she made a half-hearted hiss. “It is everywhere, this disease. Here on the plains, in your forest, in the mountains. Everywhere.”

“What is it? Is there a cure? Or can
you
cure it?”

Shima’sidu hissed again, shaking her head. “Not Shima’sidu.” She pointed and rattled her beads at him, “But you,
ishranga,
you can do this thing.”

“Me?”

“You are strong… I will teach you.” She tilted her head back and let out another grating ululation.

S
tan Dawsley stared down at the floor of the room. He could hear the guards talking in low voices outside the locked doors, and beyond them, in the distance, loud music. The fact that the Festival was up and running here in Three Ways contributed no small amount to his simmering anger.

His thoughts returned to young Derril Robson, who had last been seen leading a party of soldiers to the crossroads. Stan refused to believe that he’d fallen into a collapsed hole as the Miernan Captain had reported. Derril was as sure-footed a forester as anyone. And the edges of the collapse that Stan had glimpsed before his arrest were suspiciously neat.

Standing up, he started pacing again, only to stop as the doors were opened. He turned and crossed his arms to face the gaudily dressed man who had entered.

“Dawsley. The Foreman wants to see you.”

Stan glared at him. “Does he? Well I think I’ll just stay right here if you don’t mind, Brinchley.” He stepped forward. “When the other Foremen hear about this…”

Brinchley clicked his jeweled fingers and two brawny Miernan soldiers stepped in through the door and marched up to Dawsley. They grabbed his shoulders with thick arms and marched towards the door. Once outside, they led Stan through a throng of soldiers seated at tables, straight into another office. Here, the fat and richly dressed Miernan sat talking with Foreman Allium.

Allium looked up. “Perfect timing.” He nodded at Brinchley who bowed and left.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” he said to the soldiers, who released Dawsley and stood to the side.

Allium took a grape from a bowl on the tabletop and ate it, looking at Dawsley. “You have forced me to make a difficult decision, Councilman. Despite my orders to avoid the southern passage, -”

“Orders? Since when is a Councilman answerable to orders about where he can travel?”

“Since the southern Forest started falling apart,” snapped Allium in his high-pitched voice. “Reports of collapses cover my desk, as well as the story about this Robson boy falling through one just south of our own village. And what do you do but go wandering down there, despite me stationing soldiers there for our safety! It’s lucky you didn’t trigger another collapse and bring down more
Ancients
.”

“Safety? The only collapse I saw was a huge hole that had been made by these Miernan soldiers. If only we’d known you would go on to hire foreign thugs to do your dirty work when you were elected!”

Allium’s face tightened. “These ‘thugs’ you talk of are our future business partners. Honestly, Dawsley, how you made it to the Council I have no idea. You should be thankful that I, at least, have the vision to elevate Three Ways to its proper place.”

“By stealing the Festival from Eirdale?”

“Eirdale couldn’t possibly have catered for this sort of event. Not only are they too small, but they’re struggling the most with these collapses. They’re grateful that we’ve stepped in to rescue it.”

“Interesting then that when I last spoke with Foreman Manyara, he still seemed to believe it was being hosted there this year. He was very much looking forward to the opportunity, I remember, as was everyone else, including our Three Ways folk.”

Allium looked at Dawsley frostily and reached for another grape. The Miernan suddenly chuckled, clapping his hands together. “You were right about him, Allium. Stubborn and foolish.” The
smile faded. “If he has this opinion, it’s likely others will too, yes?”

Allium nodded irritably. “But the Festival will be over soon. We can deal with the rest afterwards.”

“How can you be so… flippant?” snarled Dawsley. “These villagers trusted you with -”

“Actually,” interrupted Allium, turning around. “I think that’s enough of you, Dawsley. I’ve no need of you anymore.”

“Your days as Foreman are numbered, Allium! I’ll see to that. When they hear about -”

“Quite so, quite so. I agree, it would be a nuisance,” said Allium with a firm nod. Dawsley paused, confused. “I think it best if we kept you alone with your unhelpful thoughts until after the Festival. Perhaps longer.” He glanced at the soldiers. “If you please, gentlemen?”

The guards looked at Nabolek who nodded and then they seized Dawsley’s arms.

“You can’t do this, Allium!” stuttered Dawsley. “I am a Councilman!”

“Not for very long.” Allium jerked his head towards the door dismissively. As Dawsley was dragged out of the room shouting, he picked through the bowl of grapes and, finding one to his satisfaction, popped it into his mouth. 

Nabolek stood up, his pendulous belly swinging as he walked towards the door. “What was all that about collapses?”

“A stroke of luck. The southerners have had some sort of tree disease problem.”

“A
problem
?” said Nabolek. “The ground collapsing is not a problem, Allium, it is a catastrophe! I had always understood the forest platform to be completely stable. Why haven’t I been told about this issue before?”

Allium smiled. “Don’t let it worry you, Nabolek. It doesn’t affect us up here. It’s probably just a weak patch they’ve over-farmed, or where someone’s built a fire illegally. It happens occasionally. This was perfectly timed though, to make for a useful scapegoat that we could use to ensure our people remain here instead of travelling down to Eirdale. Brinchley has been talking to the Council members, making sure they all start to worry about the ground opening underneath them. Nothing
too
panicky, but enough to keep them and the rest of Three Ways uninterested in venturing south. With any luck, it’ll also play straight into our hands when the Festival is over, if there’s any opposition to my plan.”

“Luck? I prefer to be in control of situations, Allium. And I do not like the idea of people becoming argumentative here in Three Ways. Especially not with what you plan afterwards. It has ramifications for my own plans as well. If enough of them become unhappy like that man, it could be a completely different sort of problem to deal with.”

“Quite,” replied Allium peering into the distance. “After the Festival the real challenge begins. But with your men around, most will hold their tongues. They’re not a very confrontational lot, these foresters.” He turned to the Miernan. “You’re absolutely sure nothing can get through the crossroads?” Nabolek smiled confidently. “Because our success relies on maintaining this communications gap between us and the Eirdalers until the Festival has been savored to our satisfaction and the Senators are satisfied.”

“And afterwards? If the idea of you being appointed Baron is as unpopular as Dawsley leads me to believe …” Nabolek stroked his beard. “It seems to me, Foreman, that the southern forest holds little value for the moment. My soldiers will certainly extinguish any interest in the short term, and Captain Lethar assures me that access to and from the south is impossible for the indefinite future.”

“Yes, well I hope he has skills other than cutting down our trees.” Allium ignored the flicker of irritation on Nabolek’s face. “However, once the Festival finishes, I will deliver my plan to the Overcouncil and convince them that this is the best thing for the Forest.”

“And if there are any violent attempts to get past the blockade? It seems to me that it might be necessary for my men to take a more persuasive role, yes? I don’t want to go to all the trouble of
winning over the Senators and building this valuable trading link only to have it ruined by this southern rabble. We must protect our interests for the long term, as well. As the potential future Baron, you really should have thought this through already. You need to consider how you will run the forest, and how you will
control
it.”

Allium looked at him. “You have some ideas?”

“It is almost certain that these southerners will persist in making their point afterwards, and with increasing organization. It’s obvious to anyone with military experience. But, whereas you seem content to just wait and see if unwanted problems flourish, like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, I am not. I like to be in control of the situation.”

“Control?” Allium asked. “Well, I would obviously welcome advice from you before you leave. And, assuming the Senators endorse me, once I am Baron I can request military assistance if absolutely necessary, correct?”

“You are too slow, Foreman, too reactive. I could foresee these sorts of issues long ago. I took the liberty of calling for a few reinforcements from my garrison in the Pass. They should arrive here in less than a week.”

“That’s very generous of you, Nabolek. I appreciate your trust in me, although I’m not completely sure that I need more men, to be honest. I mean, I have almost eighty men at my disposal already. I would have thought that was sufficient to handle things once you leave.”

“Leave? With these new problems? Not a chance, Foreman. Besides, as disciplined as my soldiers are, I’d rather not test their loyalty so far from home with a stranger. I will remain here, temporarily, to assist you in any way I can and ensure everything goes well. These southerners - and the locals – will quickly learn to behave.”

T
iponi waited until the small pot of water started boiling on their tiny fire, before lifting it off and filling the mug. In the bitterly cold night air, the steam slowly drifted upwards, a solid swirling mass in the crisp moonlight. With the pit to shelter them from the crosswinds, it was only when it reached above the stony sides that the steam was whisked away to dissolve into the darkness beyond.

Giving it a stir, Tiponi held the mug up, a coy smile playing on his face.

Raf took it and glared at the iMahli. “Enough, Tiponi. You’re being stupid.”

Bolyai clicked his tongue. “It’s not every day a go-between is banished. And even less common that he’s unbanished. Add in finding out that it was all because of
your
intervention, and I can understand why he’s a bit relieved and somewhat grateful.”

Tiponi nodded. “It is so.”

Raf grunted in annoyance and took a sip from the mug, savoring the odd flavor of herbs that the water had been infused with.

“You like it,
ishranga
?”

“Look, you can stop calling me that,” said Raf. “We’ve travelled together and you know me; simply Raf. Just because she -” he nodded his head back towards the opening in the rocks behind him, “- calls me that, doesn’t mean anybody else has to.”

Tiponi dipped his head and then crouched down on his haunches again. Around the ledge, the warriors who had terrified Raf so much before stood silently in the shadows, facing out towards the dark plains. Behind them, inside in her rocky lair, the
ishranga
had turned in for the night a while ago. Invisible up in the blackness of the craggy peak opposite them, he knew that the iMahli archers were stationed there as well. It was an unsettling place.

As if reading his mind, Bolyai muttered, ”How does it feel, boy? Knowing they work for you, now?” Raf shrugged. “Notorious iMahli deathguards watching over you… You’ve certainly come a long way from home.” Bolyai gave a brief dry chuckle, and then stared at the small flickering flames. “You’re not going to tell me what happened in there?”

Raf fiddled with a fingernail. “It’s difficult to explain, El-”

“Of course it is,” mumbled Bolyai. He looked back at the dark crevice. “I’ve no idea how you got past the deathguards, but you certainly made quite a racket once you got in there. Gave me a blinding headache and we almost lost one of the ostriches at one point, but Tiponi’s got some quick hands, fortunately.” He rubbed his hands together for warmth. “Whatever it was, it must have been impressive to have her fawning all over you like that. You’d think she’d have a little more dignity.”

Raf squirmed on the cold stone and sipped from the mug again. “Elder…”

“Hm?”