Sunlord (32 page)

"I'd say they would be preparing to head back home,"
continued Josian. "Leave at first light and rejoin their families
now that they think you're dead."

"But you stayed...to help me?"

Josian laughed. "Perhaps some would call me
foolish."

"I truly thank you for it, and you will be rewarded
by Abas." Locantar heaved himself to his feet, still feeling
part-naked without his staff. "So we are alone."

The other stood too and gazed down upon the sleeping
camp. The numerous campfires spotted about the makeshift tents
winked in the darkness. Here and there Josian caught a glimpse of
movement as the night watchmen strolled about their duty. From this
vantage the crumbled ruins which Shata had set his tent upon took
on another dimension, the shadows seemingly giving the mounds of
rock definition. Josian imagined he could see the outline of what
may have been an ancient castle, the wall laid and pulverised with
the passing of time.

Locantar breathed the air heavily, holding it into
his lungs as he thought. "There is a narrow path to our right,
leading down to the camp."

"Yes, that is how I climbed up here in the first
place, although I would call it a goat trail rather than a
path."

Locantar's white eyes stared at some distant unseen
object. "The trail curves about and reaches the bottom near Shata's
tent." It was a statement, not a question.

"That is true, but we'd have to get around the
guard's," Josian mused, scratching his chin in thought. "We could
keep our backs to the cliff and circle around...yes, that would
bring us around the back of the chemist's tent. I have a knife, so
we could easily slice through the back of it."

"Then it is set."

Josian nodded affirmatively. He started to help
Locantar, but then realised that the old man had an advantage in
the dark - he was used to walking sightless. Josian found himself
following Locantar's weaving shadow moving easily and confidently
through the rubble covering the top of the cliff, his black robe
ripped and dirty yet conveying an impression of authority.

The trail was much easier travel than the part of the
cliff they had just climbed, for here the land flattened out a
little as it banked away down to the plainlands below. After a few
minutes both reached the ground, treading carefully now as they
were once again in the heart of the camp. To their right a camp
fire blazed and some currach spoke among themselves in quiet tones,
individual words lost on the wind. From the left came the gentle
cracking of canvas snapping in the breeze. Looking that way, Josian
saw the dark shadow of Shata's tent silhouetted against the night
sky.

They crouched behind a finger of rock, sitting in
deep shadows and trying not to crack twigs and leaves at their
feet. Josian finished surveying the area and put his mouth to
Locantar's ear.

"I can see Shata's tent. The chemist's is on the
other side of it. But I can't see any guards."

Locantar shook his head. His voice was a harsh
whisper. "I hear movement from outside the tent. I'd say at least
four guards stand by the door."

Josian strained his eyes, and just when he was about
to give up, he caught a flicker of movement in the shadows. "You're
right. We'll go around the back, then."

Locantar agreed and they stood from their refuge.
Josian moved as silently as he could, easing his weight upon his
feet before stepping forward. Thankfully the ground here was spongy
and grassy and no leaves crunched underfoot. Wild thoughts ran
through the young man's mind; this all seemed so unreal, so
disjointed from reality. He saw himself from a distance, a former
farmhand dressed in black pawing his way through night shadows,
aware that one false move would bring a knife to his throat. Time
seemed suspended as he placed one foot before the other, watching
as the shadow that was Shata's tent loom past. He suddenly froze as
Locantar laid a restraining hand upon his shoulder. He dared not
move or even breath - even his heart seemed to be beating way too
loud.

Locantar's black robed arm extended and pointed
ahead. The slight rustle of the coarse fabric was the only noise
the old blind man made.

Josian tried intently to pierce the shadows but
finally gave up. The shadow of the tent effectively cut off all
moonlight, creating absolute darkness. Then his ears caught a
sound, a faint shifting sound as somebody moved in the dark. Then
his eyes discerned a shadow in the shadows move. As it moved Josian
saw it was a humanoid form, resolving itself from vague shadows
around. Now that his eyes had seen the shadow he could easily tell
that a guard waiting not two metres from where they stood.

Josian was at a loss. Shata must have become paranoid
about protecting his precious gas - putting on nearly double the
usual amount of guards. Josian was at a loss; the thought of
sneaking up to the man and using his knife to silence the guard
flashed briefly in Josian mind but he rejected it hurriedly,
disgusted with himself. The teachings of Religion were far to
strong to let that sort of thought run wild. To kill would bring a
shame and sin so great that his very soul would be in danger.

But if they couldn't kill the guard, what could they
do?

Locantar seemed to have an idea. The old man walked
forward as if strolling down a street in broad daylight. Josian was
still amazed at how easily Locantar found his footing in the
darkness and found it fascinating that night and day were
meaningless to the blind man.

Locantar's approach was silent as it was speedy. In a
few seconds he was directly behind the sitting guard. Josian held
his breath as he heard a muffled thump as the guard's body hit the
ground, unconscious. Everything as silent for a few more seconds,
then finally Locantar came back again.

"What did you do?" asked Josian in an awed, almost
horrified whisper.

Locantar quickly dispelled any suspicious. "He will
sleep and awake much refreshed in the morning. Now, is this the
tent?"

Josian nodded numbly, suddenly aware of the power the
old man wielded. He shook his head, flexed his fingers, then pulled
out his long fishing knife. He squatted down and grasped the coarse
canvas in his hand, and with the other pushed his knife through
it.

The noise was like a peal of thunder to their
sensitive ears. Each individual strain broke before his knife,
popping like gunshots in the darkness. Josian winced and continued
on, hurrying in order to get the task over with. He moved
efficiently for a few more minutes to carve a triangular flap
opening in the canvas of the tent. Once done, he gestured to his
left.

"Shata's tent lies there," he whispered. "I presume
the chemist is in here."

Locantar nodded, his milky white eyes glistening like
pale orbs in the darkness. He followed Josian as he put himself
through the narrow triangular opening.

Josian placed his foot down on grass mat, then the
other. He moved slowly and surely, moving away from the gap in the
tent to allow Locantar some room. He kept his breathing to a ragged
whisper, his wandering eyes futile in the darkness. The air was
still here, and he immediately sensed the confines of the small
tent. Then he heard Locantar step in beside him. The blind man
stood erect for a moment as if probing his surrounds, then strode
boldly forward. Josian winced as he imagined Locantar stumbling
into glass jars and bottles, setting them crashing to the ground.
But nothing came, and Locantar found his way without difficultly.
Seeing his chance, Josian followed the old man's footsteps as they
weaved through the rows of makeshift desks. He almost jumped out of
his skin when he sensed Locantar's mouth at his shoulder. The
latter's lips came a bare millimetre from Josian's ear, the words
nothing more than breath.

"On the count of three, push your hardest on the desk
to your right. Then, when you hear the crash, race for the hole in
the tent and get away as fast as you can."

Josian nodded numbly. He was about to reply when a
muttering broke the darkness. Both froze in their shoes as movement
came from near the back of the tent, as if someone was turning over
in their bed. The dreamlike muttering was punctuated by a sharp
snort as the occupant was suddenly awake.

Josian felt a sudden urge to drop to the ground, to
run away, but Locantar held his shoulder tight. As rational thought
returned Josian realised Locantar was right - they had to stay
frozen and not move a muscle.

Josian held his breath and shut his eyes as he heard
the sleeper grumble some more. He suddenly fell back in fear and
surprise as an oil lamp was lit, casting an orange hue over the
inside of the tent. Josian looked, his eyes squinting against the
sudden light, and saw the bleary eyed chemist with the lamp held
high. The latter's eyes widened in surprise, sleep forgotten
immediately, as he caught sight of the intruders.

Locantar moved like the wind, covering the small gap
separating the two parties in an instant. The chemist dropped the
lamp in surprise and it rolled away, casting dancing shadows over
the roof of the tent. A strangled yelp left the chemist's throat as
he recognised Locantar's form. "You..."

Locantar smiled quietly and nodded. "I come from the
Church to purge you of your sins."

The chemist had retreated further back along his bed,
clutching his fists to his chest. "I have done nothing," he
cried.

Meanwhile, Josian looked around helplessly, expecting
a guard to come crashing through the door at any moment.

"Your work will bring a foulness to your soul
unsurpassed by any other," muttered Locantar. "After your death you
shall face the fires of your sin."

These words had an obvious effect on the chemist.
Evidently his conscience had been working on this dilemma like a
dog chewing at an old shoe. The more he thought about it, the worse
he felt about his actions. Only Shata's persistent demands kept the
poor stricken currach working, partly in fear and partly in awe of
the powerfully persuasive leader.

But now Locantar's words brought all his uncertainty
to the fore.

"You disgrace your fellows," continued the blind man.
"You bring shame to the currach race."

The chemist was almost crying now, his insectile eyes
wide with fear as Locantar's skeletal hand reached forward. The
chemist's heart missed a beat as the hand pushed against his
face.

"Repent and be free," muttered Locantar.

The chemist flailed wildly at the touch and a
terrible scream left his mouth. An instant later Locantar pulled
his hand free, and the chemist was silent, zombie-like.

The scream had alerted all the guards in a twenty
mile radius.

"We've got to go now," said Locantar calmly.

Josian nodded, but before turning to leave heaved his
weight against the desks. With a crash the glass equipment smashed
into a thousand shards. He pivoted on one foot and lunged out with
the other, pushing the second long table down. Noxious smells
immediately filled the small tent and Josian leapt free.

Another moment and three guards rushed into the tent,
their long bladed halberds lowered threatenly.

But Locantar and Josian had already disappeared out
the back of the tent. Josian leapt through the small triangular
opening and hit the ground smoothly, leg muscles tensing to take up
the landing. Another moment and he was racing, running for all his
was worth behind Locantar.

The old man moved quickly and silently, and Josian
had to push himself to his physical limit just to keep up. They
sprinted past stunned guards before the latter had even known what
happened.

Sleeping forms suddenly loomed out of the darkness
before Josian's galloping feet, and he had no time to think. Before
he knew it, he was leaping through the air, jumping over the top of
the slumbering Leaguesmen.

But it seemed word was passing quicker than they
could run. Josian had to swerve aside as multiple lanterns lit up
before him, forcing him to take a route through the brush. He
suddenly found himself separated from Locantar!

He paused for a brief moment, confirming the old man
was nowhere to be seen. He took off once more, deciding the best he
could do was get away while he could. He kept close to the cliff
and away from the campfires as more and more of the currach
Leaguesmen stirred. He rushed past a clump of trees, leaves
snapping into his face, mere centimetres separating his head and a
passing branches.

He was forced to stop as shout echoed in his path.
Josian dove, hugging the ground in attempt to conceal himself.
Another shout came, this time to his left. He turned his head and
saw a lantern bobbing closer.

Two Leaguesmen converged, shouting to each other in
the confusion, trying to figure out what the disturbance was.
Josian crept forward, but halted immediately as the two currach
seemed to head directly towards his place of concealment. He prayed
quickly and buried his face into the humus, waiting with his heart
in his throat.

The sound of footsteps grew louder. Now he could pick
up snatches of the conversation.

"...somebody's killed the chemist-"

"-the old man Shata caught-"

"..ordered us to search-"

The conversation disintegrated as the Leaguesmen
passed, jogging with lanterns held high not two metres from where
Josian sprawled.

Could that be right? he thought. Could the chemist be
dead?

He had no time for further consideration. As soon as
the Leaguesmen had passed he was on his feet again and running for
all he was worth. His thin body quickly tired but he pushed on
regardless, the corner of his eye catching flickering movements of
light. He ran until he fell exhausted into a clump of brush. He had
ran perhaps four hundred metres and all sounds of pursuit had died
behind him.