Dark Days, page 5
part #1 of The Albatar Chronicles Series
“The Lady hasn’t abandoned the Outer World, Kaz, although sequestered here in Albatar, it might seem as if she has. Even now, some of Her servants still labour against the foe under much more difficult circumstances than any you would find within Albatar’s borders. And perhaps, one day, you’ll travel there yourself as part of a team from the Abbey. For now, remember that the gorgone threat takes many forms. Where subterfuge is required, they use it, and where an overt presence is required, they provide that also. There’s a lot more to this world of ours than what you see within Albatar’s borders. And even within Alabatar’s borders, more happens than you yet know.” Then her face softened, and she smiled. “And although things look dark at times, the Lady watches over us. Remember that Kaz.” The Abbot rose, collected her cup and plate, and left before Kazari could say anything more.
She sat there, in the early dawn light, eating the last of her warm bread, sipping from her mug, and pondering. There was a lot more to the world around her than she’d realised. But even so, there was comfort in what the Abbot had told her. Still, she did wonder who the sept’s third Dancer was, and why she hadn’t been told of them. In fact, now she thought about it, it seemed as if the information had been deliberately kept from her. She wondered why.
Chapter Seven: Chator
As Kazari turned Stumpy’s head away from the Abbey and towards Chator, thoughts chased themselves around her mind like kittens around a ball of wool. She absent-mindedly patted her horse on his warm neck. She’d grown fond of Stumpy. He was sure and steady, and she’d learned to trust him. It was a far cry from the first time she’d ridden him all those months ago. Then, she’d struggled against the pain of muscles unaccustomed to riding. Now, she sat his saddle easily, lulled by his rhythmic strides as he stepped along steadily behind Andiss’ much larger horse.
When her training was complete, and she was a fully-fledged Hunter, she’d be able to choose her own mount, but at this point, Stumpy was everything she wanted or needed in a horse. He was responsive, steady, and reliable; and she’d come to consider him a friend. Despite her niggling worry about seeing her family again, the spring sunlight warmed her, and Stumpy’s strides lulled her, giving her some much needed respite from the air of urgency that had permeated the Abbey.
She realised that she was gently stroking the amethyst on its black leather thong around her neck. It was warm to touch, comforting, a reminder that the Lady was ever-present, watching over her Hunters. Kazari looked sideways at Sendar, riding beside her as usual. He’d been quieter than he usually was since the announcement that they’d be travelling to Chator and Athos. They’d been busy readying themselves for the journey, and during such a task, Sendar normally enlivened it with quips and conversation; this time he’d been unaccustomedly morose. When she’d asked him about his family, he’d simply shrugged and said: “My family is poor.” She wondered what ‘my family is poor’ really meant, and what filled his thoughts so full he’d abandoned his sense of humour.
She was also curious about this ‘Alexando’, whoever he was. Apart from mentioning his name, neither the Abbot, nor Javon or Andiss had spoken of him again. Kazari wondered why the Abbot thought he could help. Mentally, she shrugged, and turned her thoughts to other things – undoubtedly she’d find out in time.
She wondered if she’d meet Sendar’s family, and then began to worry again about meeting her own. At least there were five days solid riding before they arrived in Chator, and it would be longer still until they finally reached Athos. Perhaps she’d have stopped thinking about it by then. Her fingers drifted to the scar on her face. The image of her mother’s expression hovered before her, and her stomach churned. Some of those who pledge to the Lady die, Kazari – they die….The remembered words echoed in her skull once again, and she pulled her hand guiltily from the scar.
“Keep your wits about you, you two!” called Javon. Kazari started, disturbing Stumpy so that he snorted and bobbed his head. “Keep your eyes peeled, and Kaz, let us know if you sense anything odd.”
“Yes Javon,” Kazari replied, hearing Sendar echo her words. She drew in a deep breath, testing, but there was nothing. They were only just outside the Abbey – of course there was nothing. But then the memory of the monster that had crawled over the Abbey wall only a few months ago slithered through her mind on scaly feet, and a chill ran down her spine. It had come close without any of the Lady’s servants detecting it, and they still didn’t know how, or why. Or even what it was. She shivered and took a quick glance around.
The land was greening in the early spring. The previous day’s storm had washed everything clean, and the fresh scent of growing things lent a richness to the air. Green-robed Growers worked the fields to the north of the Abbey, occasionally raising a hand in greeting as the four black-garbed Hunters rode by. For a moment, Kazari found herself envying them as they laughed and talked together, all the while nurturing the crops they grew. She’d once thought to join them herself. But then reality asserted itself. Even knowing what she now knew, even having suffered through more physical and emotional hardship than she’d thought possible, she knew in her bones that being the Lady’s Hunter satisfied her in ways she hadn’t even known existed.
Even the puffing and gasping and the aching muscles, were nothing compared to the satisfaction she felt after dispatching a gorgone. Not, during, she qualified, but after. It was one less monster to threaten her people. Still, she was only human, and for a moment, the peaceful fulfilment in the Growers she saw before her generated a sense of longing. Intellectually Kazari knew that even the Growers, nurturing their crops, must feel the anxiety that pervaded the Abbey, but their fight was not usually on the frontlines against the gorgone foes as hers was.
But even her own sept had had secrets she’d only just become privy to – the Gifts that now manifested themselves within her. Clearly the Healers and Intercessors had similar skills, and although she didn’t know the details, she’d seen some of their Gifts at work – and known of them for many years, now that she thought about it. As they rode, Kazari mused on what Gifts the other septs might have tucked away. She supposed that some, like Healing, were supportive, rather than offensive in the fight against evil, but as she thought upon the subject, she speculated that the Navigators must have some Gifts similar to the Hunters, given their roles. The memory of their blazing arrows was still etched in her memory.
Three days later, Kazari dismounted and stretched, running her hand down Stumpy’s warm neck. She led him to a small creek to drink and then began to remove his tack and rub him down. He snorted, and tickled the back of her neck with his whiskery nose as she picked up his legs one by one to check his hooves.
“Silly horse,” she laughed, patting him, and then hobbled him and left him to graze, as she carried her gear over to the campfire Javon had started in a small hollow.
Andiss set water to boil as Sendar dragged up a log to use as a seat. The four Hunters ate quietly, watching the play of flames in the fire, enjoying themselves, camping in the freshness of the spring evening away from the busyness of the Abbey. In two days, they’d arrive in Chator, where they would be accommodated at the chapel with the local incumbent.
Kazari remembered Enda’s joyous homecoming two years previously. Dari’s sister hadn’t seemed nervous at all. Like the others who’d returned for visits, she’d stayed with the incumbents – a pair of Intercessors – but her visits to her family’s home had been celebrations, and there hadn’t been any hint of awkwardness that Kazari had seen. And she was sure she would have, because she’d been there so frequently as Dari’s guest.
“Have you been home, Sendar?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied, and a hint of discomfort entered his voice. “Not long before you joined the sept.”
“Was it all right?”
There was a long silence, and just as Kazari was about to repeat her question, Sendar spoke.
“In the end, yes it was, but it was difficult at the beginning.” He stood and stirred the coals of the fire, sending a gout of sparks into the air. He busied himself for a moment, setting the water to boil for more tea, and then turned and looked at Kazari, silhouetted against the brightness of the fire so she couldn’t read his face. “I told you my family was poor?”
She nodded.
“The hardest bit was going back and seeing my family’s poverty. I’d go back to the chapel each day knowing that I’d be eating better than they were, and wearing good, well-made clothing, while they struggled to make sure everyone was warm.”
Kazari felt a lump form in her throat.
“Why is it like that?” she asked, uncomfortably aware that the lump had changed the tone of her voice. “Why do some have so much and others so little? Don’t the Writings tell us that we should take care of each other? Athos isn’t like that.” Athos, her own village, was a fairly prosperous place. Some definitely had more than others, but she didn’t know of anyone who wasn’t adequately fed, or decently clothed. But then, perhaps she just hadn’t noticed. Now, after many months away, she wasn’t as certain she knew as much about her home town as she’d thought she had when left.
Andiss nodded, the warm light from the fire casting shadows over the planes of his face.
“They do. The Writings tell us very clearly that those of us who have more, should take care of those who have less. It is the Lady’s will.” He hesitated and then went on. “This is one of the hardest things for anyone to understand, Kazari. What the Writings say is very clear. What humanity does in response is not so simple. As Her servants, we help wherever we are able, but we are only so many, and we can’t do everything that is needful, so the balance falls to those who lead Albatar – the secular authorities.”
“And those secular authorities are only normal human beings, with all the failings and strengths of all of us,” went on Javon. “Some are seduced by greed, others by petty jealousies, and others by selfishness. The end result is that sometimes they place themselves above others, and sometimes those others suffer.” Javon turned to Sendar. “As your family has. And mine, and many others. Much as we of Albatar would like to believe otherwise, we must recognise that despite resisting the gorgone incursions and the chaos of the Outer World, we are not perfect, and that evil finds a foothold wherever it can.”
There was silence while the fire crackled and glowed. Sendar stood motionless, face hidden in the darkness, and Kazari pondered on what Javon and Andiss had said. Why, Lady? she asked silently. But she already knew, deep inside her own self. She wasn’t perfect – no human being was. Within Kazari lurked the potential for evil, despite her pledge to the Lady and to Albatar. In her insecurities, her fears, and her moments of disbelief, lay the potential for wrongdoing.
She wondered if that was how the first gorgone incursion had really begun – in the second king’s weaknesses? In his vanities? She felt vulnerable then. Vulnerable, frightened, and fearful. If a man so respected for his good deeds had still been corrupted by his inner desires, then how did ‘normal’ human beings ever resist? The Writings seemed so clear when she read them, but the doing of what the Writings demanded? Not so much.
Finally, Sendar spoke again.
“Things have improved for my family. Not completely, but somewhat. Alexando from the chapel keeps an eye on them for me. They may not eat like kings and queens, but nowadays they always eat.” Kazari let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. Some of the warmth had come back into Sendar’s voice – a warmth that had been missing for several days. “They work hard, and their vegetable garden is productive most years, but sometimes the taxes are higher than other years, or there is little rain, and in those years they need to hunt to make sure the family is fed. And hunting is…difficult. It requires trespass on the Lord Juster’s hunting preserve. ”
“You mean the crown land adjacent to Chator,” corrected Javon.
“That’s not how Lord Juster sees it,” replied Sendar, “Or how he treats it.” Kazari saw Javon open her mouth to reply, but then shook her head slightly and remained silent.
Sendar swung back to the fire and busied himself with the tea. A few moments later, he handed the refilled mugs around. Kazari sipped hers reflectively, staring into the fire as Sendar perched himself on the log next to her again. His posture was more relaxed than it had been, but the mood around the fire was more thoughtful than the other evenings. When she climbed into her bedding an hour later, her thoughts churned inside her head. This Alexando was most likely an Intercessor then; as an incumbent, it made sense, and she knew from Androvar’s comments that some Intercessors specialised in the care of the mind. Still, she wondered why the Abbot thought he might be able to help her more than the other Intercessors. Even so, it took her a long time to sleep, and even then her dreams were ominous and she spent the night turning restlessly from side to side, trying not to disturb the others.
Chapter Eight: Viper
The next morning, Kazari, scratchy eyed and yawning, tightened Stumpy’s girth. He turned his head and nosed her gently, as if he could sense her fatigue. His warm breath was comforting, and he smelled of horse, a smell she’d come to associate with all of the good things about being a Hunter. Resting her forehead against his shoulder, she felt her tension ease.
The discussion of the night before had unnerved her. Knowing she wasn’t perfect or knowing that her friends weren’t perfect was one thing, but understanding that some of Albatar’s rulers weren’t – it unsettled her more than she could have believed. No-one could be perfect, she knew, but the rulers of her land were meant to be better. Brought up by her parents to obey the laws of Albatar and to believe that the rulers above her had the best interests of their people at heart, the idea that some of them didn’t take care for the people they ruled, seemed at such odds with what she’d learned as a child. And what if some of them were even worse than neglectful?
She rode beside Javon in silence for some time, pondering. Hunters always worked in pairs, and she’d begun to wonder how they ended up in those pairs. She’d never asked, and so far it hadn’t been covered during her training. Of course, that had been somewhat reorganised since her ability to sense had been discovered and the possibility of a gorgone incursion had raised its head. Perhaps they just fell into partnerships, or maybe there was some other method of determining who would work with whom? She opened her mouth to ask, when the acrid smell of gorgone flickered on the breeze.
She drew Stumpy to an abrupt halt and raised her head, sniffing the wind. It was clean and fresh again. Confused, she turned her head from side to side, and then rode in a circle around the others who’d also stopped and were waiting for her.
“Kaz?” asked Andiss.
“Thought I smelled gorgones,” she replied absently, still sniffing the air.
“But?”
“It seems to have gone now. Perhaps I was wrong?”
Andiss drew up beside her, and Javon and Sendar fanned out to either side. Kazari could read the tension in their postures.
“It’s gone now,” she repeated, “it was there, and then not there.”
A little further along, they paused in a hamlet, where a small, overall-clad urchin approached Kazari, where she was watering the horses at the well while the others purchased lunch at a nearby inn.
“Are you a Hunter?” asked the urchin.
Kazari smiled.
“I am, or at least, I’m learning to be one.”
The urchin scuttled forward and held out a somewhat wilted yellow flower, clutched in a grubby paw.
“This is for you. My Mum says that Hunters are the Lady’s special servants, and says we should thank Her for your service.” The words were oddly phrased, almost archaic, but Kazari recognised them from an old form of the Writings she’d studied in the meditation grove. Dredging back into her memory, she drew out the correct reply.
“This Hunter thanks you for your thanks to the Lady.” She took the flower and tucked it into her top buttonhole as the urchin smiled back at her. “What’s your name, little one?”
“I’m Freda, Hunter.” The words came out in a rush, and then Freda jiggled on the spot, and rushed away.
“Nice flower,” commented Javon when the others rejoined her. Kazari related the story of the urchin, and Javon nodded. “It’s a tradition in some parts, mostly the smaller parts, of Albatar. An old tradition, but a nice one. Some of the larger places could learn from places like this.”
Later in the day, Kazari’s anxiety had reached an almost intolerable peak. There had been hints of gorgone on the wind every hour. Never strong, but definitely there. Every time she signalled a halt, and then all of them would cast about, looking for physical signs of gorgones. They saw none. Kazari began to wonder if her Gift of Sensing was working properly or whether she was just imagining things – or even if she had it at all. But then she’d remember Suborden, and the horrors she’d seen there would refuel her determination. They passed through hamlets and villages, and each time, people came out into the streets to look at The Lady’s Hunters.
The reactions of the people varied widely. In one town, Kazari was given a bouquet of wildflowers by a tiny boy, barely old enough to leave his mother’s side. He’d waved vigorously at her as they rode through. In another, the people had stared, but they had been silent, and Kazari had the feeling that despite the legends, had they stayed there, they would not have been welcomed warmly. She wondered at it, puzzled, opening her mouth to ask Andiss a question as they rode out, but he’d shaken his head at her, and mouthed ’Not now.’
At last, at least a kilometre down the road, he nodded.
“Ask now, Kaz.”
“What’s with the people in that village?” She burst out. “I mean, everyone looks at Hunters, but they…didn’t seem to want us there?”
“They probably didn’t,” Andiss said. “There has been…a…falling away, in some places.”
