The Namura Stone (8 page)

ON THE SEVENTH day, Diva got up with a feeling of heaviness in her heart. She knew that the time had come for them to leave. Even Raven was subdued, seemingly also aware that the holiday she had been enjoying had come to an end. The two of them ate their breakfast in an unusual silence, and then Raven gave each of the two girls who had been looking after her a hug. They returned the hug and then backed away shyly out of the tent.

When Diva finally lifted the flap and walked out hand in hand with her daughter, they found the whole village assembled once more. Tallen was waiting near the path through the marshes, and the rest of the Namuri lined the way to where he and the sibyla were standing.

But, by the tent, Diva could see the tall figure of a man. His bearing was proud, but contained. There was an uncanny stillness about him, and she could see that he had no hands. This then was the Namuri who had sacrificed his life to the protection of the clan; the man who had taught Tallen all the paths through the marshes; the man who had lived so that others would not die. It was the first time she had seen him.

Diva turned slowly to the man. Then she stopped, a couple of metres in front of him. She could feel the silence as if it were the humming of a thousand cicadas. She stared into the eyes of the man who had saved both her and her daughter’s lives and then drew her dagger and held it up in front of her face, bending her head as a sign of respect.

“You honour this unworthy Namuri,” he said.

Diva looked into the man’s eyes and saw that there was no hatred there. Instead he was regarding her with understanding. She sheathed her dagger again.

“We are only responsible for our own acts,” he said. “You must let your cousin write his own future. Yours is written in blue namura stone, and I salute you for your courage.”

She didn’t know what he meant, but she inclined her head again, and then took Raven’s small hand and moved slowly away from the man who had survived Tartalus, towards the sibyla.

Diva felt uncommonly humble as she walked slowly past the waiting clan members. As she and Raven passed, each of them gave a slight bow, and then opened their hands, allowing the two visitors to see the blue namura stones each villager was holding. As mother and daughter passed by them, each man and woman covered the stone again, raised it to their foreheads, and turned, so that they were facing out away from the path.

Diva smiled at Tallen as she came up to him and the sibyla. He looked rested, she saw, although the unhappy twist to his face was still there.

Raven ran up when she saw him, shouting.

“T’an, T’an!”

He swung her up onto his shoulder. “I bet you haven’t been behaving yourself, young lady!”

Raven was hurt. “Have!”

“Really? I heard you had led your two carers a pretty dance!”

She shook her head. “’Aven b’ave!”

“Hmm. I certainly hope so.”

Diva turned to the sibyla, who was covering something with her palm. As she saw where Diva was looking, she allowed the cloth to slip. Diva gasped. Lying on the deeply lined palm were two gold necklaces, from each of which hung a namura stone. The bigger one was full of fire and glitter, but the smaller one was cut differently and seemed to contain almost all its fire within the stone itself.

“We do not believe in making jewellery of the namura stones,” she said. “But we have made exceptions for you both. This is for you, Raven of Xiantha.” Tallen inclined himself and his burden, bringing Raven closer to the sibyla so that she could pass the smaller gold chain over the girl’s jet locks. “Its inner glow will light you through difficult times before it accompanies you safely back here, one day.” For a moment Diva thought that the old woman might be going to say something more, but she didn’t, merely standing as the young girl thanked her prettily and fingered the new trinket at her neck.

Then the ancient woman turned to Diva and offered her the necklace. No words were needed. Diva thanked her with her eyes and slipped the stone over her head. It settled on its golden chain, just below her collar bone, and she seemed to feel an immediate, comforting warmth spread through her. She smiled at the woman and gave a ceremonious bow. The sibyla bowed back. Then her eyes seemed to cloud over. “This stone will come back to us,” she said in a strange voice, “brought by the being who travels through space – the Voice in the wind. This I can see.”

  Diva looked at her. “I won’t?”

The sibyla’s old eyes looked deep into hers. “You will never leave us,” the old woman said simply.

Diva felt a lump in her throat. “I have done nothing to deserve such an honour,” she said.

“It can mean as much to pass a few days in silence with a dying woman as to clash with swords on the battlefield, where souls lie agonizing.”

Tallen waited for a couple of moments and then raised his eyes, asking permission to depart. The sibyla nodded, and he led them out of the village and back across the deep marshes.

“We thought it better to reach the crossroads by as discreet a route as possible,” he told her. “—Just in case Tartalus has been hanging around waiting for us. We will reach the normal track only a mile or so from where we are to meet Bennel.”

She nodded. “I am still not sure whether my cousin meant to harm us or not,” she admitted. “I find it hard to believe, yet I could swear that I saw decision on his face.”

“He means you and Raven great harm, I think. I saw an ambitious man – one who will not give up easily. He may be convinced that you and your daughter are the only impediments to his becoming the next Elder of Coriolis.”

“Perhaps. I shall be glad to get off the planet.”

“Yes. This time, so shall I.”

She caught the tone. “You mean that you will come back here to live, one day?”

He hesitated. “The sibyla seems to think that I will, yes. But she would tell me no more, so I know not when, nor why, nor how. She seems to think, though, that I have a distant path to travel before coming back.” He paused for a moment to shift the weight of his precious burden to the other shoulder. “She said that I must serve my emptor first, whether or not the blood oath is broken. She said I would know it, when the time came.”

Diva nodded. “I expect you will.” She stared at the ground. “How do you know where to go?”

He shrugged. “I was shown the ways by my teacher, and the stone guides us. Can you not feel it?”

Diva stepped in front and tried to visualize which would be the right path to take, only to be stopped by a fierce shout as she made a final decision.

“NOT THERE!”

She opened her eyes and stopped with one foot in the air. It looked perfectly safe to her.

Tallen shook his head and tossed a heavy stone from close to where he was himself standing. It settled into what looked just like ordinary sandy soil, and then there was a horrid gurgling sound and the stone disappeared from view.

Diva turned back. “It seems that I don’t hear the stone too well,” she admitted. “Perhaps you should lead the way back to the crossroads?”

Tallen nodded. “Didn’t think a meritocrat would ever be able to feel the stone,” he told her, with not a little satisfaction. Diva stared at his back for a second, and then followed hurriedly on, anxious to keep her own eyes on his exact footsteps.

ALL WAS WELL until they had nearly reached the crossroads. They were still just within the marshes, when a small movement in the reeds on either side of the path in front of them alerted Tallen. He put a hand out immediately to stop Diva, and drew his sword, putting Raven down behind him and motioning with his finger for her to be very quiet. She knew that this was one of the major signs, one of the ones she had to obey instantly.

Diva’s eyes were narrowed, trying to see what was in front of them on the track. Her famous Coriolan dagger had appeared in her hand.

Then there was a commotion to one side, and two large figures appeared from behind a screen of large rushes. Tallen looked back in surprise. They were good; he hadn’t detected any of them as they passed the ambush position.

Diva had glanced back, too. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Elders!”

The Namuri boy glanced at her. Her face was rigid with dislike, and she had stiffened like a dog that had spotted its prey.

“Kwaidian Elders,” she explained. “They must have come to see Tartalus here on Coriolis. But I can’t see him anywhere.”

“Perhaps he is busy forging himself a cast-iron alibi somewhere else?”

Diva went still. Tallen was right. That was the most believable explanation. It was exactly what Tartalus would do if he had decided to act in all seriousness, and get rid of both Diva and Raven in one fell swoop. “Then we must fight, Namuri,” she said, through gritted teeth. “And fight well, for there will be many of them.”

“I hear you, Meritocrat,” said Tallen, his eyes scanning around them. “I am ready.”

Diva glanced across at the boy. He was, indeed, ready. He was slowly circling, his sword in front of him, waiting watchfully for the first attack to come. Then her eyes found Raven, standing absolutely still in the middle of the path, just as she had been taught. Diva felt extremely cross with herself. She should have arranged for a troop of guards to meet them at the edge of the marshland. Six would be furious with her, and rightly so. He had told her over and over again not to underestimate Tartalus. Diva sighed and looked worriedly down at Raven. It was not her own safety she was worried about, but Raven’s.

Tallen noticed the direction of her gaze. “I shall protect her with my life,” he told her, a note of distinct pride in his voice. “The namura stone about her neck will keep her safe, too.”

Then he turned swiftly. There were another six men approaching from the other side of the road. Tallen gave a disdainful smile.

“That makes eight. Four each. Think you can manage, Meritocrat?”

Diva’s lips were stretched back from her teeth. “Give me the Kwaidian Elders,” she replied, her voice taut with emotion and adrenaline. “You can have most of the Coriolans.”

Tallen looked gratified. “I’d appreciate that.”

They looked once at each other, and then, with the little girl in the road at both their backs, they turned to defend themselves.

Diva’s face contorted as she leapt for the Kwaidians. There were two of them, both unknown to her, but both dressed in the way Kwaidian Elders always dressed. They looked slightly taken aback at the ferocity of her movement. They were bullies, she realized – keen to inflict damage on living things, but not prepared to be on the receiving end. That would be to her advantage. Her dagger flashed in the sunlight of Coriolis and her breath puffed out into the cool air as she closed with the two Elders.

Raven dared not move, but her legs were still not strong, so she sank down into a sitting position on the beaten earth, feeling around her for some pebbles to play with. She felt rather lonely and couldn’t help thinking that she wished either her mother or Tallen would turn around to play with her. She felt quite cross with them. Then she rediscovered the blue stone hanging around her neck and smiled at it. The greens and blues could still be seen flashing inside it, like fire, sparkling in the light. She lifted it up in her hands and held it against the sky. That way, there were more flames in its interior, and the whole stone seemed for a moment to be edged with a deep cobalt blue. Raven smiled and cooed at it, forgetting everything that was going on around her.

Tallen had dispatched one guard with some ease, but now the fight was in earnest. He had three Coriolans on his sword arm, and knew that his hasty promise to protect Raven would not be easy to maintain. And he had suddenly become aware of something strange. Now that he was about to lose his life and join Petra in the sacred marshes, he had discovered that he wasn’t quite ready. There was something indefinable pulling at him, tugging him to stay above the marshes for some time longer.

He fought on, slipping on the track, and managed to wound one of the other men. They were part of Tartalus’s guard, he saw; he recognized two of them from the recent encounter they had had on their way to the Namuri village.

“Your emptor too scared to come with you this time?” he taunted, panting a little with the effort of the fight.

“You are not worth his personal attention, scum!” came back the quick answer.

Tallen grinned wickedly. “Better Namuri scum than meritocratic sycophants,” he gasped, stepping hurriedly to one side to avoid a particularly nasty jab which threatened his abdomen. “You are merely dogs, barking at your master’s voice.”

“We bite too, dirty thief,” snapped one of the attackers. “My sword will let you know exactly how deep.”

Tallen leapt aside again, just in time, and managed to inflict some small damage on the attacker, who snatched back his sword arm with a cry.

Tallen crowed victory, but then had to turn to the other guard. While he was fully occupied with this man, the one he had just wounded slipped behind the Namuri boy, and grabbed Raven from the path.

Tallen saw the flash of material out of the corner of his eye and gave a bellow. He saw the large, bulky man begin to stride off down the path with his precious burden, but could not follow; his opponent had noticed the slight loss of concentration and was pressing home his advantage, forcing the Namuri boy to focus on one thing at a time.

Diva had already dealt with one of the Kwaidians, who was now nursing a deep cut in his sword arm, one which had efficiently eliminated him from the battle. The other Kwaidian, together with two Coriolan guards, had taken up positions in front of her.

She gave a wicked smile. “So, you are prepared to die for Tartalus, are you?” Her sword arm moved warningly. “I hope he pays you well.”

The Elder from Kwaide – in fact still quite a young man, laughed in her face. “He is like us; he enjoys a chase, a fight, a … hunt.”

“You like hunting people, do you?” Diva’s eyes were glittering. “And you like hunting small children, like Tartalus does?”

The Kwaidian smiled. “I know you. You are the girl who started the war on Kwaide. You are responsible for the Elders losing everything. To kill you and slaughter your daughter will be a pleasure beyond anything: priceless. I will not be able to thank Tartalus enough for allowing me this opportunity.” He smiled.