She Who Has No Name (The Legacy Trilogy) (41 page)

‘I notice Sir Ferse has developed a cunning grip of the Old Tongue, Master Celios,’ Samuel mentioned and the old man looked at him with surprise.

‘Eh?’ he said, and he crooked his neck to have his ear towards the men.  ‘Why, so he does.  Incredible.’

‘He never mentioned it before.  How would he learn such a thing?’

Master Celios assessed Samuel suspiciously and then cast his eye to Eric.  ‘I couldn’t say.  Even I don’t know everything about the man.’

‘Are commoners even allowed to learn the Old Tongue?’ Eric asked.

‘I don’t see why not,’ the twitchy magician replied.  ‘Won’t do them any good if they can’t use magic. 
Personally,
I don’t like commoners learning the Old Tongue because we can talk about them freely if they don’t.  And it gives us another reason to be better than them.’

Daneel
went ahead,
scouting their path
,
and came galloping down from the next rise when he saw the smoke rings rising.  He whooped with joy and pulled the pipe from Balten’s hands to have
a puff
at it; the surly magician furrowed his brow with annoyance.

‘Samuel,’ Master Celios said.  ‘Go and see what that foolish girl is doing, before she hurts herself or falls off a precipice.’

Samuel did as he was told and went to approach the Koian girl.  It was difficult to tell, but she had seemed sullen since Lady Wind had been left behind.

‘What are you doing there?’ he asked her, but the girl ignored him and squatted down on her haunches to rest.  Samuel walked around her and tried to observe her face, but she kept her nose down and turned away from him.  ‘What a stubborn creature you are.  Is it so difficult being a god?’

She would not be bullied into a conversation and so Samuel squatt
ed down
beside her.  It was actually good to squat for a moment
and
he could feel the stiffness of climbing easing out of his legs.  He caught a glimpse of Ambassador Canyon looking their way, but the man seemed unconcerned, or perhaps he was more focussed on his tobacco.

‘I am guessing it would be lonely having everyone treat you like that and wearing those strange clothes.  We magicians are also outcasts in many ways.’

‘You know nothing about it, Magician,’ she said, looking at him
,
revealing a hint of her angled eyes in the shadows beneath her hood.  ‘I am not lonely.  I am a god.  I am not taunted or teased like an outcast.  We have nothing in common.  Magicians in our land are thrown from the cliffs at birth.’

‘So I
have
heard,’ Samuel replied.  He took a moment to think of another tactic, for he was intent on making her speak to see if he could find any cracks in her hard exterior, or any traces of humanity.  ‘Do you feel strange without your costumes?’

‘Do you?’ she asked him curtly.

Samuel looked at his robes.  ‘We choose to wear these clothes, as a symbol of our abilities and responsibilities.  I’m as used to them now as my own skin.’

‘Then how would you
feel without your skin?’ she said, pointedly.  ‘My rituals are based on traditions older than these mountains.  Your Order is just a pebble rolling down a hill.  Tomorrow it will be gone and forgotten.’  And she flicked a stone with her nail, sending it clacking away
down the mountain
, as if to demonstrate.

‘But you must feel liberated to be out of those strange clothes?  I used to enjoy putting on common clothes and sneaking out into the streets of Cintar as someone unknown.  I must admit, it’s been a long time since I did that, but I still remember the joy of such freedom.’

The girl tilted her head at this, but he still could not see into her hood.  She stood up and stretched her arms wide and Samuel took
this as
his cue to stand also.  She turned towards him, and then the sun shone in the perfect position to illuminate her face.  She was looking up to the clouds and Samuel took the opportunity to observe her features before she noticed him.

‘I did that
,
too, Magician—a long time ago when I was a girl.  I sneaked from my temple and ran through the streets.  It was interesting to watch the people doing their things and hear them talking together.’

‘So you were not born a god?’ he asked her.

‘I have always been a god!’ she said and she glowered at him before turning away once more.  It seemed she had two states of being: neutral and annoyed.  He had to admit he was intrigued by the woman, for her strange life, preciously guarded away from the world and constantly engaged in bizarre customs and rituals
,
had left her ignorant of many simple things in the world and devoid of social engagement.  He felt pity for her in a way and he wondered if he could find a
means
to open her up to human contact.

‘I didn’t mean to offend you.  I meant you were a little girl then.  Not always...like this.’

‘I am born and reborn through an endless cycle.  The body I inhabit grows from child to woman, of course, but I am a woman in appearances alone.  I do not succumb to common sickness or injury, and I am not cursed with the womanly blight of bearing children.  Eventually, I will leave this casing of flesh and begin a new life, as does a butterfly.’

He was about to correct her on her mistaken biology, but stopped himself
,
deciding it was not worth complicating the discussion.  ‘Do you remember these lives?’ he asked her.

‘My memories live in the ninety-nine blessed texts and the forty-nine most holy scriptures.  My past lives are recorded in these and my glories will be appended to them at my death.’

‘But you say you are a god, so how can you die?’

‘Open your ears, Magician.  This body will die as all things must
—
the birds and the flowers and the water oxen and the cats and the other such things.  I will live on—eternally and forever.’

‘And what do you do, as a god?  You must be kept busy, doing all kinds of godly things.’ He was not actually trying to be facetious, but the subject matter allowed him such little leeway.

‘Men have been carved into tiny strips for even speaking to me, Magician, yet you continue to insult me with your idiocy.  I am not the question
-
answerer of a cursed magician,’ and she spat by her feet.  ‘My powers are boundless.  I keep the heavens from falling and the earth from turning to salt.  I keep the children from crying and the elderly from stumbling.  I gather the woes and the worries of my people and
,
in turn
,
I give them my love.  You think I am so terrible, yet you cannot understand my misery.  Far from my people, in this forsaken land, I am empty and without purpose.  The voices are silent and I cannot hear my people.’

‘You can usually hear them?’

‘I hear their voices, their thoughts, their woes and their desires each night in my dreams.  I pass their concerns to Empress Moon and she
,
in turn
,
acts upon them.  In this way, our society remains perfect and peaceful.  Without me, the people are lost.  But now the voices are quiet.  I fear my people have all been killed, and that is a loneliness I cannot bear; far worse than anything you can experience, Magician.’

He was almost feeling sorry for her, when her final statement raised his anger.  ‘You have the audacity, woman, to assume you know about me?  You know nothing about me or what has happened to me.  My parents, my friends and everyone I have ever loved have all been killed!  I have suffered more than a spoilt girl like you will ever know.’

The god-woman’s eyes opened wide
,
glowering with fury in the shadow of her hood.  ‘
Good!
’ she hissed and stormed off towards her countrymen, who had already begun
preparing
the sled. 

Ambassador Canyon looked at Samuel with concern, while Horse’s gaze was stony and
lacking in
emotion.  Only Daneel watched on with open mirth as he began signalling for them to make ready.  Samuel stalked over to the sled and reluctantly began helping Canyon and Horse to finish loading it.

‘She is not used to speaking openly,’ Canyon said.  ‘She is easy to misunderstand and she misunderstands others.’

‘You’re not going to berate me for upsetting her?’

‘No,’ Canyon said.  ‘It would be good for her to learn to speak civilly.  The world she knows has already ended and will never return.  She should get used to things being different.’

It was a surprising statement from the man.

‘Horse,’ Samuel said, changing the topic.  ‘Would you teach me how you fight?’

‘Why would you want him to do that?’ Canyon asked.

‘Magic can be unreliable at times.  Fists can serve better in many circumstances.  I was in quite a number of scraps in my youth and
,
at one time
,
I could hold my own, but it’s been a while.  What do you say?’

‘No,’ Horse said, matter-of-factly, continuing at his work.

‘Why not?’ Samuel asked, hoping to detect if the man was taking any subtle suggestions from Canyon.

Horse stopped and looked at Samuel levelly.  ‘I cannot teach you to fight.  I have seen you move and you already have all the pieces you need.  You just need to put them together in the right way and that is something you must learn for yourself.’

‘It’s a far cry from moving to fighting.  Would you say the same to an acrobat or a dancer?  I’m sure they move even better than me.’

‘Perhaps, but if you ask me—and it seems you are—moving and fighting are exactly the same.  It is only the choice of movements that happen to collide into another man’s face that changes them to fighting.  Very well.  If you want some simple advice, I will just tell you this: as with your spells, to deliver a solid blow you must use your full self to gather energy and direct it into the final point of contact at the precise moment of impact—a large effort into a small space and moment.  As you know, a large enough hammer and a small enough nail can penetrate anything, as long as the force can be passed between them and the nail can survive the blow.  That is the key.  That is all you need to know.  I’ve seen you move and I’ve seen your Turian magic at work.  I cannot teach you anything more.’

‘You could teach me many things, I am sure.’

Horse stopped his work.  ‘Come then.’  He stood away from the sled and motioned for Samuel to follow him.  They moved to a small spot, with Canyon looking on with mirth.

Horse bent and picked up a small pebble.  ‘Very well.  I will show you something even more useful than how to throw a fist.  Most battles are won or lost before the first punch can be thrown.  Opponents must be assessed and strategies made before the onset.  We will bypass all this and go straight to the most important lesson for any battle.  Take this rock,’ and he offered the tiny stone to Samuel, who plucked it from his palm with interest.  ‘I will take this stone from you three times using no force.  There is nothing you can do to stop me, but you should try your best.  Once I do this, I hope you can see what I am trying to teach you.  Then, you will begin to understand something about fighting.’

Samuel was intrigued.  ‘So I should try to prevent you?’

‘Of course.’

‘How will you do it?’ Samuel asked, to which Horse laughed.

‘That’s the whole point of this exercise.  Let us begin now.  Are you ready?’ and he dropped into a ready position, poised as if to attack.

Samuel nodded, not sure what would happen, but Horse shook his head and stood straight once more.  ‘No, that will never do.  If you stand like that
,
I will easily win.  Perhaps I will give you an example.  Give me the stone and I will show you how to properly protect it.’

At this Samuel offered the stone and Horse took it back.  ‘That’s one,’ Horse stated and smiled with satisfaction.  ‘Two more times and I win.’