The Harvest Tide Project (22 page)

He did not appear surprised when two Parsinors wearing masks and cloaks slid down the banks on either side and drew swords. The driver, who obviously had no illusions about the speed of his vehicle, did not even try to get back into the cab.

‘I’m not going to fight you,’ he called. ‘Take what you have to, just don’t hurt me. The wife would murder me if I came home injured.’

‘We only want your wagon,’ the bigger Parsinor told him, and Taya’s jaw dropped when she recognised Draegar’s voice. ‘We’re only borrowing it. We’ll bring it back when we’re finished with it.’

‘I’m sure,’ replied the driver dourly.

‘You have my word,’ Draegar assured him. ‘Go back to the storyhouse in the village and wait there. Your goods will be delivered; you can count on that. Just stay in the village and we will return your wagon. Leave the village, and we will have to dump it in a river somewhere. Do you understand?’

‘Aye.’

‘Good.’ The two Parsinors lifted the tree out of the way and another, smaller masked man slipped down the bank on the left and climbed into the cab. With a quick glance at the tarpaulin-covered pile on his truck, the driver shook his head and started walking back in the direction of the village.

‘You’re not going to believe this,’ Taya whispered to the others, ducking her head back under.

‘We know,’ Lorkrin groaned.

‘Move over,’ they heard Draegar say. ‘You’re going to have to drive.’ The second Parsinor seemed to have gone.

‘But I’ve never driven a wagon before in my life. Why can’t you do it?’ came Groach’s voice.

‘Because they don’t make vehicles for Parsinors,’ Draegar growled. ‘How am I supposed to work the
pedals
with feet like these? Drive, get on with it. The sooner we get going, the sooner you can be back in Noran.’

There was the sound of grating gears, then Groach took the brake off and the wagon swerved backwards into a ditch. The botanist shouted an apology, shifted out of reverse and gunned the engine, throwing them forward and
nearly pitching them into the ditch on the other side.

‘By the gods!’ Draegar roared, ripping off his mask and cloak. ‘Whatever made them give up on horses?’

‘I’ve got it, I’ve got it,’ Groach cried out, as the truck lurched back and the engine stalled.

Cursing under his breath, Draegar got down from the cab, pulled the crank handle from its clips, and walked around to the front of the wagon, inserting the handle and cranking it until the engine started once more. Groach put it into gear and turned the large, wooden steering wheel to straighten the vehicle out on the road. Then in jolts and starts they made their way forward.

‘I told you we should have kept walking,’ Hilspeth
murmured
to the Myunans.

‘He’s going to have a fit if he finds us here,’ Lorkrin hissed.

‘I think he’ll probably kill Shessil long before that
happens
,’ Taya told him.

Groach’s control of the wagon improved gradually, until he was able to make it go forwards without grinding the gears or stalling the engine too often. He did have problems keeping it out from the edges of the road, but at least they were heading in the right direction.

‘Have you any idea what you’re going to do when we get there?’ Draegar asked him.

‘I’m not sure,’ the botanist replied. ‘But my friends from the project are in Noran. He must still be using them. Once I tell them what they’re working on, they won’t take it any
further
. With their help, I might be able to stop Namen from doing whatever it is he wants to do.’

‘It’s my bet that he will use it in the Kartharic Peaks,’
Draegar
said. ‘The Karthars are strong and a war with them would
be costly. With the esh as his weapon, he could kill the
Karthars
in their thousands.’

The wagon coughed and spluttered its way along the road, the afternoon sun glinting off its bodywork, and dust and pebbles spitting from under its wheels. The noise and smoke meant that keeping a low profile was impossible, but its passengers, both those in the cab and those concealed behind them, hoped that they would slip into Noran
unnoticed
among all the other vehicles that were making the same journey. The flaw in this plan became apparent as they came around a curve in the road, and encountered a convoy of wagons carrying the same load as themselves. The eight flatbed trucks were being escorted by three battlewagons. Groach brought the truck to a skidding halt, but they had already been seen. The vehicles were refuelling at a bule-oil depot in the front yard of a tavern. A battlewagon reversed up to them and an officer waved them forward.

‘Crumble cones? Group up with the rest. We’re trying to keep as many of you together as possible, but you’re coming from all over the place. Have you enough bule oil? This depot is almost out and the next one is two hours’ drive away.’

‘I … I think we have enough,’ Groach stammered,
checking
the gauges in front of him. ‘We don’t have to join up with you if it’s going to cause you trouble. We’re managing all right on our own.’

‘We’re not taking any chances with hijackers,’ the Whipholder barked. ‘Who’s the Parsinor?’

‘G— g— guard,’ said Groach. ‘A friend who’s come along … in case of hijackers.’

‘We’re much obliged, but we’ll handle any problems from
here on in,’ the Noranian told Draegar. ‘Just stay out of the way from now on.’

Draegar nodded, saying nothing.

‘Get it in line!’ Groach was instructed. ‘Move ahead of us and close up behind the last wagon.’

It took three attempts for the botanist to get the vehicle in gear before pulling ahead of the battlewagon and joining the convoy. Groach exchanged looks with Draegar and the Parsinor shook his head. There was no going back now. Behind them, a small hand let the tarpaulin drop back into place.

‘Aw, bowels.’

‘Lorkrin, mind your language!’

17 P
HYSIOLOGY
R
ATHER THAN
B
OTANY

Emos had taken to the air again, and he was incredibly weary when he landed in the yard in front of
The Lush Oasis
, but he knew he was not far behind now and he was sure he would find news of Draegar here. Both he and the botanist had come here and the vehicle that was carrying Taya and Lorkrin had passed by; all of which had left Emos tired and confused. He suspected that the Parsinor had sent the
children
to Brodfan with the woman, but that they had defied him. He still did not know why everyone seemed so keen to get to Noran. He slunched back into human form, shrugged the backpack from his tired shoulders and pushed the door open.

Cholsch greeted him as he walked in.

‘Emos Harprag! Well, this is a day for seeing old friends! Why, you just missed Draegar. He was here only this
afternoon
. What brings you to our little oasis?’

‘My niece and nephew, Cholsch. It’s good to see you, too. How are you? How is Temina?’

‘The old ball and chain? The same as always. But what’s this about your niece and nephew? Why would they be in
these parts?’ A tankard of mead appeared as if by magic in front of Emos.

‘That’s what I’m trying to find out. You said Draegar had been here?’

‘Yes, lit out in a hurry for Noran with some new friend of his.’ Cholsch leaned closer and lowered his voice. ‘Had to borrow that man’s wagon. Unfortunate state of affairs.’

He nodded to a man who sat at a table on the other side of the room, well on his way to being thoroughly drunk. Emos gave him a glance and turned back to the Parsinor, who
continued
talking as he polished some empty tankards;

‘Ol’ Draegar was goin’ on about the Noranians havin’ some kind of mighty weapon they was goin’ to use against the Karthars – said he had to get to Noran to stop them. Didn’t know what he was goin’ on about myself, but I helped him as best I could, settin’ him up with transport an’ all.’

Emos stopped in mid-gulp and lowered his mug.

‘What kind of weapon?’

‘That was the bit that didn’t make sense. Think he’s got too used to tellin’ those stories of his. He said the Noranians was goin’ to use the esh to kill all those Karthars.’

The drive had taken them through the night and most of the following day, and Groach was congratulating himself that he had only bumped into the wagon in front of his three times. But at last the city of Noran was in sight. They rolled on past the sentry posts, down the mountain road and out onto the plain where the city grew day by day. As they drove through the streets, Draegar wrinkled his nose at the stink of
too many dwellings packed too close together, and the industrial smoke that hung in the air like a fog. The convoy moved rapidly, troops clearing the streets in front of them all the way to the river. When Groach finally pulled in, they saw that the docks along the riverside were lined with vehicles, all carrying crumble cones. These were being unloaded, packed carefully into crates and hoisted aboard waiting barges. Groach was waved into a loading space beside another truck.

He and Draegar jumped down and waited until no one was watching. Then they slipped into the milling teams of loaders and found their way down one of the alleys that led between the rows of warehouses. Groach took the lead, heading for the city gardens and the area where he knew the Harvest Tide staff to be working. Around them, life in Noran carried on at its hectic pace.

The streets were busy with people going about their daily routines: market carts pulled by donkeys, horses, oxen and oil-powered engines mixed with the men and women moving between the shops and factories. The buildings were a combination of wood and brick, with gabled roofs, balconies and walkways that stretched across the streets. The houses were all clean, tidy and well maintained. The cobbled streets were free of mud and rubbish, but the air was thick, cold and humid. There were no beggars on the streets, but Draegar knew that this was only because the
soldiers
gathered them up and put them to work in the mines, not because there were no poor people in Noran.

Groach walked along roads, guiding himself by chimneys. He had rarely been allowed out of the buildings where he and his colleagues worked, and never without an armed
guard. But he had looked out on the city so often from the upper-storey windows that he knew the roofs and chimneys of the place better than any free man. And so he was able to steer them to the compound where he knew he would find his friends.

‘This is it,’ he said as they stood before a high wall that extended for hundreds of paces in either direction. ‘They’ll all be in here.’

‘How do we get in?’ Draegar asked.

‘
We
don’t,’ Groach replied. ‘There are too many guards inside. I can get in, but you will have to stay outside.’

‘And what happens if you can’t get out, or they don’t want to help?’

‘If I can’t get out, I’ll try and get to that window.’ The
botanist
pointed to the second storey of a building that stood inside the wall. ‘I’ll give you a signal … I’ll stand at the window and touch both hands to my head. If you see that, you’re on your own. They have enough barges loaded to fill four or five esh-boats already. If I can get the others to help, we have fungi that will destroy the crumble cones before they even reach the mouth of the river. If I can’t, you’ll have to find some way to do it on your own.’

‘Go, then,’ the Parsinor urged him. ‘And may the gods look kindly on you. I will wait here until sunset. The barges will not leave until morning. There are rocks further down river and no captain will try to pass them at night. Go … and mind yourself, Shessil. The plants of the world would be poorer without you.’

He touched his forehead to Groach’s, and the botanist shook his hand. Then the Parsinor watched him walk away towards one end of the wall. Groach strode around the
corner, made his way up to the gate and waved to the pair of guards who stood there.

‘By Everness, it’s good to be back,’ he announced, turning from one soldier to the other. ‘I believe the Prime Ministrate has been looking for me.’

The two Myunans were arguing about what to do next, when the tarpaulin was whipped aside and two hands grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks. A workman dragged them out and stared at them.

‘What have we got here, eh? Two little troublemakers, I’ll wager.’

Hilspeth, who had been hidden on the other side of the wagon, slipped out and crept around the back. Rushing into view, she put a hand on each of the Myunans’ shoulders.

‘There you are, you little scamps,’ she snapped. ‘How many times have I told you to stay out of the men’s way? Honestly, I can’t take my eyes off you for a moment. Thank you, sir, for finding them. I’m sorry if they have been up to mischief.’

‘Not really, ma’am. Just playing around, I expect. Did the same when I was a lad. But you should keep them away. We’re at the Prime Ministrate’s work here, and it won’t do to have children running about. I’d keep a closer watch on them in future, if I was you.’

‘I will, of course. Sorry again. I promise they’ll get a proper spanking for this.’

‘I hope so. If you don’t beat them, they won’t learn. That’s what I always say.’

‘And right you are, too.’ Hilspeth smiled tightly.

The workman waved to another, and they began to crate the crumble cones. Hilspeth tugged on the collars of the shape-changers, and together they escaped into the crowd.

‘I’ll show him “beating”, that mutton-head,’ muttered Lorkrin. ‘I’d like to see him try it.’

‘Yes, I’m sure you would,’ Hilspeth said to him. ‘But first let’s see what’s going on. It’s getting dark, and I get the
feeling
that those boats aren’t going to be hanging around when morning comes. If Shessil and Draegar have a plan, great. If not, we’re going to have to do something ourselves.’

‘You escaped?’ Mungret asked, with a quizzical expression.

‘Well, not exactly.’ Groach shrugged. ‘The Parsinor was a friend of their uncle’s or something like that. When he heard what they had been up to, he gave them a good shouting at and told me to be on my way.’

‘But our trackers told us that you walked a good way with them. When did you get away from them?’

‘I’m a bit embarrassed about that, actually. The Parsinor thought I was someone important; he was going to hold me for ransom. It took me a while to convince him I was just a botanist and not worth a lot of money. He just told me to shove off. He was a bit peeved he’d dragged me that far.’

‘Well, the Prime Ministrate will be glad to have you back, I can tell you.’ Mungret squeezed his shoulder. ‘We would have rescued you eventually, of course. Don’t doubt for a moment that you are worth a great deal to us, Shessil, a great deal indeed. Your work is vital to Noran.’

‘And it’s work I’m keen to get back to, sir. I’d like to join the others now, if you don’t mind.’

‘Ah, yes. The others. They are uh … out on a research trip; they won’t be back for some days yet. Why don’t you go up to the laboratory and get on with whatever you need to do? I’m sure the Prime Ministrate will want to see you himself as soon as possible.’

Mungret nodded to a guard, and gently nudged Groach in the direction of the stairs. The soldier followed him as he climbed towards the second floor. When he entered the main laboratory, he discovered a score of people working at the tables. He did not recognise any of them. His breath caught in his throat. Had Namen decided to put more people on the project even though they had achieved what they had set out to do?

‘Mr Groach!’ A middle-aged man scurried across the room to shake his hand. ‘It’s an honour to meet you. We’ve been going through your notes, sir, and I must say your ideas on the bubule are quite brilliant. May I congratulate you on your studies? It will be a pleasure to work with you.’

‘I … ah, thank you. I wonder, can you tell me where my colleagues are? They are on a research trip, I believe. Have they gone back to Hortenz?’

The other man froze. Casting his eyes back towards the rest of the new team, he paused for a moment.