The Dreaming Void

INIGO'S THIRD DREAM

It was a glorious summer evening, the bright sun tinting to copper over the Eggshaper Guild compound while Edeard walked across the main nine-sided courtyard. He took a contented breath as he watched the team of five ge-chimps cleaning the last patch of kimoss off the kennel roof. Their strong little claw hands were tearing up long dusty strips of the thick purple vegetation, exposing the pale slate. The kennels were the last of the courtyard buildings to be spruced up. Roofs and gutterings all around the other sides were clean and repaired. There were no more leaks down on to the young genistars, no more drains overflowing every time it rained. The walls had also benefited from the new chimp team renovating the Guild compound. The mass of gurkvine had been pruned back to neat fluttering yellow rectangles between doors and windows, allowing the apprentice stonemasons to restore the mortar joins in the walls. An additional benefit of the long-neglected pruning was a bumper crop of fruit this year, with dangling clusters of succulent claret-coloured berries hanging almost to the ground.

Edeard stopped to allow Gonat and Evox herd the ge-horse foals into the stables for the night. 'All brushed down and ready? he asked the two young apprentices. He cast his farsight over the animals, checking their short, rough fur for smears of dirt.

'Of course they are, Evox exclaimed indignantly. 'I do know how to instruct a ge-monkey, Edeard.

Edeard grinned good-naturedly, struck by the way he now sounded like Akeem in the way he presided over the guild's three new apprentices. He could sense Sancia in a stall over in the default stables, sitting quietly in a chair as her third hand flowed around an egg, subtly sculpting the nature of the embryonic genistar. The youngsters were talented. Impatient, naturally, but eager to learn. Two of the new ge-horses had been sculpted by Evox, who was inordinately proud of the foals.

Taking on the apprentices had been a real turning point for Akeem and Edeard. Evox had joined them barely a week after the fateful Witham caravan last year. Sancia and Gonat had moved in to the apprentice dormitory before winter set in; and now two more farmers were already discussing sending children to the Guild, at least for the coming winter months. After a hectic six months of initiation and adjustment, things had settled down in the compound. Edeard even found he had some of that most luxurious commodity: spare time. And that was on top of having the compound's ge-chimp team to start the desperately needed renovation. With the apprentices honing their instructional skills, the chimps had performed some internal restoration, whitewashing walls, cleaning floors and even preserving food in jars and casks. This coming winter season wouldn't be anything like as bleak as those past.

'How are the cats? Gonat asked.

'Just going to inspect them, Edeard said. So successful had the ge-cats been at extracting water, that the council had commissioned a second well to be dug at the other end of the cliff face behind the village. As well as producing replacements for the existing well, Edeard now had to supervise a whole new nest. In truth they didn't last as long as he'd hoped, barely two years. And they were still inordinately difficult to sculpt. 'Don't forget we have a delivery from Doddit farm in the morning. Make sure there's enough room in the stores.

'Yes, Gonat and Evox groaned. They mentally pushed and goaded the frisky foals into their stable before Edeard could heap any more tasks on them. The whole courtyard resonated to the hoots, snarls, bleating, and barks of various genera. With the apprentices now capable of basic sculpting, the Guild had suddenly doubled hatching rates. There were a full twenty defaults in the stables; Akeem had consulted with Wedard on building more. The majority of the animals still went out to the farms, but most houses in the village had cleaned out their disused nests and asked for a ge-chimp or a monkey. The demand for ge-wolves since the Witham caravan had increased dramatically. It was all kind of what Edeard had wanted, but he was still disheartened by the way the older villagers refused to let him give them a simple refresher course in instruction, gruffly informing him they'd been ordering genistars round since before his parents were born. True enough; but if you'd been doing it wrong since then nothing was going to change, and they'd wind up with a lot of badly behaved genistars cavorting round Ashwell annoying everyone. So Edeard surreptitiously tried to make sure that the village children had a decent grounding in the ability. The Lady's Mother, Lorellan, helped in her own quiet way by allowing Edeard to sit in on her own instructions to the village youth. Nobody dared protest about that.

Edeard reached the main hall, and sped up the stairs, pleased to be away from the courtyard. One further side effect of their Guild's rising fortune and greater genistar numbers was the stronger smell seeping out from the stables. He'd moved out of the apprentice dormitory the week Evox arrived, taking over a journeyman's room. 'I can't confirm you as a Master yet, Akeem had said gravely, 'no matter what you did beyond these walls, or how proficient you are. Guild procedures must be followed. To be a Master you must have served at least five years as a journeyman.

'I understand, Edeard had replied, secretly laughing at the formality. Lady help us from the way old people try to keep the world in order…

'And I'll thank you to take the Guild a little more seriously, please, Akeem had snapped.

Edeard rapidly wound down his amusement. Akeem seemed able to sense any emotion, however well-hidden.

His new room actually had some furniture in it. A decent desk he'd commissioned himself from the Carpentry Guild; a cupboard and a chest of drawers — needed to store his growing new wardrobe. His cot had a soft mattress of goose down. After some gruesome disasters, he'd eventually got the finer points of laundry ritual over to his personal ge-monkey; so once a week he had fresh sheets, scented with lavender from the herb bed in the compound's small kitchen garden — also now properly maintained.

He washed quickly, using the big china jug of water. The Guild compound wasn't yet connected up to the village's rudimentary water pipe network, but Melzar had promised it would be done by the end of the month. Both he and the smithy were trying to design a domestic stove which would heat water for individual cottages, producing various ungainly contraptions with pipes coiled round them. So far the pipes had all burst or leaked, but they were making progress.

Edeard scraped Akeem's ancient spare razor over his straggly chin hairs, wincing at the little cuts the jagged blade made. A new razor was next on his list of commissions — and a decent mirror. The ge-chimps had left a pile of newly washed clothes from which he chose a loose white cotton shirt, wearing it with his smart drosilk trousers. He'd found several weaver women in the village who would willingly make clothes for him in return for ge-spiders. Akeem called the unregistered trade enterprising, cautioning that it must not interfere with their official commissions. He still had the boots he'd bought in Witham. A little worn now after a year, but they remained comfortable and intact; the only problem was how tight they were becoming. He'd put on nearly two inches of height in the last year, not that he'd bulked out at all. His horror was that he'd wind up looking like Fahin as he put on more height without the corresponding girth.

He opened the top of the small stone barrel in the corner opposite the fire and removed the leather shoulder bag. It was one place relatively immune from casual farsight. He checked the bag's contents hadn't been discovered by the other apprentices, and slung its strap over his arm.

'Very dapper, Akeem observed.

Edeard jumped, clutching the bag in an obviously guilty fashion. He hadn't noticed the old Master sitting in the main hall. Everyone had been trying to duplicate the way the bandits had shielded themselves, with varying degrees of success. Edeard wasn't sure how much mental effort Akeem put into the effect. He'd always had the ability to just sit quietly and blend naturally into the background.

'Thank you, Edeard replied. He self-consciously tugged at the bottom of his shirt.

'Off out, are you? Akeem asked with sly amusement, he gestured at the long table set for five. He'd made nothing of the bag.

'Er, yes. My tasks are complete. I'll start sculpting the new horses and dogs for Jibit's farm tomorrow. Three of the defaults are ovulating; the males are in their pens.

'Some things are definitely easier for other species, Akeem observed, and gave Edeard's clothes another meaningful look. 'So which of our town's fine establishments are you gracing tonight?

'Um, I can't afford the tavern. It's just me and some of the other apprentices getting together, that's all.

'How lovely. Are any of your fellow apprentices female by any chance?

Edeard clamped down hard on his thoughts, but there was nothing he could do about his burning cheeks. 'I guess Zehar will be there. Possibly Calindy. He shrugged his innocence in such matters.

For once Akeem appeared awkward, though he'd put a strong shield around his own thoughts. 'Lad… perhaps some time we should talk about such things.

'Things? Edeard muttered in alarm.

'Girls, Edeard. After all, you are sixteen now. I'm sure you notice them these days. You do know what to ask Doc Seneo for if uh… circumstances become favourable.

Edeard's expression was frozen into place as he prayed to the Lady for this horror to end. 'I… er, yes. Yes I do. Thank you. Go to Doc Seneo and ask for a phial of vinak juice? Oh dear Lady, I'd rather chop it off altogether.

Akeem sat back in his chair and let his gaze rise to the ceiling. 'Ah, I remember my own youthful amorous adventures back in Makkathran. Oh those city girls in all their finery; the ones of good family would do nothing else all day long but pamper and groom themselves for the parties and balls that were thrown at night. Edeard I so wish you could see them. There isn't one you wouldn't fall in love with at first sight. Of course, they all had the devil in them when you got their bodice off, but what a vision they were.

'I have to go or I'll be late, Edeard blurted. Someone of Akeem's age shouldn't be allowed to use words like amorous and bodice.

'Of course, the old Master seemed amused by something. 'I have been selfish keeping you here.

'I'm not that late.

'And I don't mean tonight.

'Uh…

'I'm not up to instructing you any more, Edeard. You have almost outgrown your Master. I think you should go to Makkathran to study at the Guild in their Blue Tower. My name may still be remembered. At the very least my title demands some prerogatives; I can write you a letter of sponsorship.

'I… No. No, I can't possibly go.

'Why not? Akeem asked mildly.

'To Makkathran? Me? It's, no. Anyway, it's… it's so far away I don't even know how far. How would I get there?

'Same way everyone does, my boy, you travel in one of the caravans. This is not impossible or remote, Edeard. You must learn to lift your eyes above the horizon, especially in this province. I would not see you stifled by Ashwell. For that is what surely will happen if you remain. I do not want your talent wasted. There is more to this world, this life, than a single village alone on the edge of the wilderness. Why, just travelling to Makkathran will show you that.

'I will hardly waste my talent by staying here. The village needs me. Look what has happened already with more genistars.

'Ah really? This village is already nervous about you, Edeard. You are strong, you are smart. They are neither. Oh don't get me wrong, this is a pleasant place for someone like me to live out my remaining days. But it is not for you. Ashwell has endured for centuries before you; it will endure for centuries yet. Trust me. A place and people this stubborn and rooted in what they are will not vanish into the black heart of Honious without you. I will write your letter this week. The Barkus caravan is due before the end of the month. 1 know Barkus of old, he owes me some favours. You can leave with them.

'This month? he whispered in astonishment. 'So soon?

'Yes. There is no benefit in delay. My mind is clear on this matter.

'The new ge-cats…

'I can manage, Edeard. Please, don't make this any more difficult for me.

Edeard walked over to the old Master. 'Thank you, sir. This is— He grinned. 'Beyond imagination.

'Ha. We'll see how much you thank me in a year's time. The Masters of the Blue Tower are not nearly as lax as I have grown. They will have a fine time beating obedience into you. Your bones will be black and blue before the first day is half-gone.

'I will endure, Edeard said. He laid a hand on the man's shoulder, for once allowing the love he felt to shine in his mind. 'I will prove you right to them. Whatever happens I will endure, for you. I will never give them cause to doubt your pupil. And I will make you proud.

Akeem gripped the hand, squeezing strongly. 'I am already proud. Now come. You are dallying while your friends carouse. Leave now, and I will have yet another fine meal with our three juvenile dunderwits, listening to their profound talk and answering their challenging questions.

Edeard laughed. 'I am a bad apprentice deserting my Master thus.

'Indeed you are. Now go, for the Lady's sake. Let me summon up what is left of my courage else I shall flee to the tavern.

Edeard turned and walked out of the hall. He almost stopped, wanting to ask what Akeem had meant by they are already nervous about you. He would enquire tomorrow.

'Edeard, Akeem called.

'Yes, Master?

'A word of caution. Stay silent that you are leaving, even to your friends. Envy is not a pretty blossom, and it has a custom of breeding resentment.

'Yes, Master.

The sun had dropped to the top of the rampart wall by the time Edeard hurried up a lane off the main street, heading for the granite cliff at the back of the village. Already the glowing colours of the night sky were emerging through the day's blue like trees out of morning mist. Old Buluku was directly overhead. The vulpine serpent manifesting as a violet stream that slithered through the heavens in a fashion which none of Querencia's few astronomers could ever fathom. It certainly didn't shift with the seasons, nor even orbit round the sun. As Edeard watched, a sliver of electric-blue light rippled lazily along its length, a journey which would take several minutes, too weak to cast a shadow across the dry mud of the lane. Odin's Sea was already drifting towards the northern horizon. A roughly oval patch of glowing blue and green mist that visited the summer nights. The Lady's teachings were that it formed the heart of the Void, where the souls of men and women were carried by the Skylords so they could dream away the rest of existence in quiet bliss. It was only the good and the worthy who were blessed with such a voyage, and the Skylords hadn't been seen in Querencia's skies for so long they were nothing but legend and a faith kept by the Lady's followers. Protruding from the ragged edges of Odin's Sea were the reefs, scarlet promontories upon which Skylords carrying the souls of those less worthy were wrecked and began their long fall into Honious and oblivion.

Edeard often wondered if so many unworthy humans had been carried aloft by the Skylords that there were simply no more of the great creatures left. It would be so typical that humans should bring such casual destruction to this universe. Thankfully, the Lady's teachings said that it was humans who had declined in spirit; that was why the Empyrean Lady had been anointed by the Firstlifes to guide humans back to the path which would once again lead them to the Heart of the Void. It was a sad fact that not many people listened to the Lady's kind words these days.

'Calling to the Skylords? a voice asked.

Edeard smiled and turned. His farsight had kept watch on her since she stepped out of the church ten minutes ago. One of the reasons he'd chosen this particular route. Salrana emerged from the shadows of the market place. Behind the deserted stalls, the church curved up above the rest of the village buildings with quiet purpose. Its crystal roof glimmered in refraction from the altar lanterns.

'They didn't answer, he said. 'They never do.

'One day they will. Besides you're not quite ready to sail into the Heart yet.

'No. I'm not. Edeard couldn't quite match her humour. He might as well have been travelling into the Heart given the distance to Makkathran. How will she cope with me leaving?

He wasn't the only one growing up this summer. Salrana had also put on several inches over the last couple of years; her shoulders were broad as if she was growing into a typical sturdy farmer's girl, but whereas her contemporaries were thickening out ready for their century of toil on the land she remained slim and agile. Her plain blue and white novice robe had grown quite tight, which always made Edeard glance at her in a wholly inappropriate fashion. Not that there was any helping it, she was losing her puppy fat to reveal the sharpest cheekbones he'd ever seen. Everyone could see how beautiful she was going to be. Thankfully, she still suffered from spots and her auburn hair remained wild and girlish, otherwise being in her presence would be intolerable. As it was, he viewed her friendship with delight and dismay in equal measure. She was far too young to be wanting to bed, though he couldn't help wondering how long it would be before she was old enough. Such thoughts made him fearful that the Lady would strike him down with some giant lightning bolt roaring out from Honious itself. Though of course Her priestesses did marry.

Irrelevant now. Even if I do come back, it won't be for years. She'll be with some village oaf and have three children.

'You're in a funny mood, Salrana said, all innocent and curious. 'Is everything all right?

'Yeah. Actually it is. I've had some good news. Great news. He held up a hand. 'And I will tell you later, I promise.

'Gosh, a secret and in Ashwell. Bet I find out by noon tomorrow.

'Bet you don't.

'Bet me what?

'No. I'm being unfair. It's a private thing.

'Now you're just being cruel. I'll pray to the Lady for your redemption.

'That's very kind.

She stood right up close to him, still smiling sweetly. 'So are you off up to the caves?

'Er, yeah, one or two of the others said they might go in. I thought I'd see.

'So when do I get asked?

'I don't think Mother Lorellan would want you in the caves at night.

'Pha. There's a lot of things the good Mother doesn't know I do. She shook her hair defiantly, squaring her shoulders. The aggressive pose lasted a couple of seconds before she started giggling.

'Well I'll pray she doesn't find out, he told her.

'Thank you, Edeard. Her hand rubbed playfully along his arm. 'Who'd have thought it just a few years ago. Both of us happy. And you: one of the lads now.

'I was in a fight before they accepted me. 7 killed people. Even now he could still see the face of the bandit before the man smashed into the tree, the astonishment and fear.

'Of course you were, that's a typical boy thing. That's why you're going into the caves again tonight. We all have to find a way to live here, Edeard. We're going to be in Ashwell for a long long time.

He couldn't answer, just gave her a fixed smile.

'And watch out for that Zehar. She's already bragging how she intends to have you. She was very descriptive. For a baker's apprentice.

'She. Is? She wants…?

Salrana's face was devilsome. 'Oh yes. She blew him a kiss, giggling. 'Let me know the details. I'm dying to know if you can really do such wicked things. Then her back was to him, her skirt held high by both hands, and she went racing off down the slope, giggling all the way.

Edeard let out a long breath. His emotions were as unsteady as his legs. If there was ever a reason to stay in Ashwell, he was looking at it. His farsight followed her long after she'd turned a corner on to main street, making sure she was safe as she ran along on her errand.

There were a number of caves burrowing into the cliffs behind Ashwell. A lot of them had been expanded over the decades, modified into storerooms for the long winter months, where the temperature and moisture hardly varied at all. Several of the larger were used as barns. Edeard wasn't interested in those. Instead, he headed for a small oddly angled fissure in the rock on the western end of the cliff, only thirty yards from where the encircling wall began. He had to scramble up a pile of smoothed boulders to reach it, then grip the upper lip and swing himself into the darkness. Anyone larger than him would have real trouble passing through the gap; he'd only be able to use it for another year or so himself. Once inside, the passage opened up, and the soft background babble of the village's longtalk cut off abruptly. His immediate world contracted to a dank gloomy blackness; even his farsight ability couldn't perceive through such a depth of rock. All he could sense was the open cavity around him. Only after he'd gone round a curve did he see a glint of yellow light ahead.

Seven apprentices were gathered in the narrow cave with its high crevice apex, sitting round a couple of battered old lamps whose wicks were chuffing out a lot of smoke. Their talk stopped as he entered, then their smiles bloomed in welcome. It was a gratifying sensation of belonging. Even Obron raised a cheery hand. Fahin beckoned him over. Edeard was very conscious of Zehar watching him with a near-feline intent, and gave her a nervous grin. Her answering smile was carnivorous.

'Didn't think you were coming, Fahin said.

'I got delayed slightly, Edeard explained. He opened his bag and pulled out the large wine bottle, which earned him some appreciative whistles as he held it up.

Fahin leaned in closer. 'Thought you were running scared of Zehar, he murmured in a knowing whisper.

'Sweet Lady, has she told everyone but me?

'I overheard it from Marilee. She was trying to get Kelina to take some vinak juice from Seneo's pharmacology store. I assumed you were party to it.

'No, Edeard growled.

'Okay. Well should the need arise, and I do mean rise, just ask me. I can get you a phial without anyone being any the wiser, especially Seneo.

'I shall remember it well, thank you.

Fahin nodded, as if unconcerned. An attitude confirmed by his passive surface thoughts. He unbuckled his ancient physick satchel and took out some dried kestric leaves. The pair of them became the centre of some not very subtle attention from the other apprentices in the cave.

Edeard shifted position and opened the wine. It was dark red, which Akeem always claimed was a sign of quality. Edeard was never certain. All the wine available in Ashwell had a strong taste which lingered well into the next day. He supposed he'd get used to it eventually, but as for actually liking it… 'Fahin, where do you see yourself in fifty years?

The doctor's tall apprentice glanced up from the little slate pestle he was preparing. 'You're very serious tonight, my friend. Mind you, she does have that affect on people.

For an instant Edeard thought he was talking about Salrana, then Fahin's eyes glanced over at Zehar, a movement amplified by his over-size lenses.

'No, Edeard said irritably. 'Seriously, come on: fifty years' time. What are you working towards?

'Why I'll be doctor, of course. Seneo is actually a lot older than most people realize. And she says I am her most promising apprentice in decades. He began grinding the kestric leaves with smooth easy motions of the mortar.

'That's it? Village doctor?

'Yes. Fahin wasn't looking at Edeard any more, his thoughts took on an edge. 'I'm not like you, Edeard; Honious take me, I'm not even like Obron. I'm sure you're going to build our Eggshaper Guild to greatness over the next century. You'll probably be Mayor inside thirty years. Ashwell's name will spread, people will come, and this land will flourish once again. We all hope that from you. So, given the circumstances, village doctor and your friend in such times is no small goal after all'

'You truly think I will do that?

'You can do it. Fahin mashed up the last flakes of leaf into a thin powder. 'Either that or you'll lead a barbarian army to sack Makkathran and overthrow the old order. You have the strength to do either. I saw it. We all did. That sort of strength attracts people.

'Don't say that, Edeard said. 'Not even in jest.

'Who's jesting? Fahin poured the kestric powder into a small white clay pipe, adding some tobacco.

Edeard stared at his friend in some alarm. 7s this what people think? Is this why I make them nervous?

'You know the gate guards say they still farsight your fastfoxes at night sometimes, Fahin said. 'Do you keep them out there?

'What? No! I sent it away when we got back; you were with me, you saw me do it. And how would the guards know that, the old fools. They're asleep most of the night anyway, and they can't tell one animal from another at any distance.

'These fastfoxes have collars.

'They're not mine! he insisted. 'Wait, there's more than one? You know I only mastered one. When did they see them? he asked in curiosity.

Fahin struck a match and sucked hard on his pipe stem, pulling the flame down into the bowl. 'I'm not sure, he puffed out some smoke. 'A couple of months now.

'Why did nobody tell me? I could find out if they are real.

'Why indeed? The match went out, and Fahin took a deep drag. Almost immediately, his eyes lost focus.

Edeard stared at his friend with growing dismay. They all gathered up here for a drink and a smoke and talk, just as apprentices had done since Ashwell was founded. But lately Fahin was smoking on a near-nightly basis. It was a habit which had grown steadily ever since they got back from the Witham caravan.

'Sweet Lady, Edeard muttered as the other apprentices came over. Maybe leaving this place is the right thing to do. Fahin passed the pipe up to Genril. A smiling Zehar held out a hand for Edeard's wine. He deliberately took a huge swig before handing it over.

The first thing Edeard did when he woke up was retch horribly. When he tried to turn over he banged his temple hard on cold floorboards. It took a moment to realize, but he wasn't lying on his nice soft mattress. For some reason he was sprawled on the floor beside the cot, still fully dressed apart from one boot. And he stank!

He groaned again and felt the acid rising in his throat. Gave up all attempts at control and threw up spectacularly. As he did so the fear hit, squeezing cold sweat from every pore. He was shaking as he wiped pitifully at the fluid dribbling from his lips, nearly weeping with the misery. Hangovers he could take, even those from red wine, but this was more than just the payback for overindulgence. He'd felt like this before. The forest. The bandit ambush.

His body was reacting to the alcohol and a couple of puffs on the pipe. While his mind was yelling at some deep instinctive level of the mortal danger closing in out of the surrounding darkness. He forced himself to sit up. A thin pastel light from the night sky washed round the shutters revealing his small room. Nothing was amiss, apart from himself. He whimpered from the sheer intensity of fright pouring through him, expecting something terrible to envelop him at any second. The hangover made his head throb painfully. It was hard to concentrate, but he slowly managed to summon up some farsight and scan round.

The three apprentices were asleep in their dormitory. He forced the ability further, almost crying out from the pain sparking behind his eyes. Akeem, too, was asleep on his bed. Out in the courtyard, the young genistars dozed the night away, shuffling and shaking as was their style. A couple of cats trod delicately along the roofs as they tracked small rodents. By the gate, the ge-wolf in its traditional stone guardkennal lay curled up on its legs, big head swaying slowly as it obediently kept watch on the road outside.

Edeard groaned with the effort of searching so far, and let his farsight wither to nothing. He was still shaking and cold. The front of his shirt was disgustingly sticky, and the smell was getting worse. Nausea threatened to return. He struggled out of the shirt and lurched over to the nightstand where there was a glass of water and took several large gulps. In the drawer at the bottom of the little stand was a pouch of dried jewn petals soaked in an oil which Fahin had prepared. He opened it, closed his eyes and shoved one of the petals into his mouth. It tasted foul, but he took one final gulp from the glass, forcing it down.

In all his sixteen years he had never felt so wretched. And still the fear wouldn't abate. Tears threatened to clog his eyes as he shivered again, hugging his chest.

What is wrong with me?

He wobbled over to the window and pushed the shutters open. Cool night air flowed in. Odin's Sea had nearly fallen below the horizon, which meant it was no more than a couple of hours past midnight. The low thatched roofs of the village were spread out around him, pale in the wan flickering light of the nebulas. Nothing moved. But for whatever reason the sight of such serenity simply made the fear even worse. For an instant he heard screams, saw flames. His stomach churned and he bent over the window sill.

Lady, why do yon do this to me?

When he straightened up he instinctively looked at the village gate with its twin watchtowers. There was no sign of the guards. But then they were nearly half a mile away and it was night. Edeard gathered his breath and gripped the side of the windows in grim determination. His farsight surged out. If they're all right I'm going straight back to bed.

The towers were built from smooth-faced stone; recent decades had seen them strengthened inside with thick timber bracing. Even so, there were no holes in the walls, just some alarmingly long cracks zigzagging up and down. Their parapets were large enough to hold ten guards who could fire a number of heavy weapons down on anyone foolish enough to storm the gate. Tonight the eastern tower was empty. A solitary man stood on the western parapet underneath the alarm bell. He was facing inwards, looking across the village. Three bodies lay on the flagstones at his feet.

Edeard lurched in shock, and tried to refocus his farsight. It swept in and out before centring back on the parapet. The lone man's thoughts shone with a hue of satisfaction; Edeard felt a filthy mental smile. 'Greetings, the man longtalked.

Edeard's throat contracted, snagging his breath. 'Who are you?

Mental laughter mocked him. 'We know who you are. We know all about you, tough boy. We know what you did to our friends. Because of that you're mine tonight. And I promise you won't die quickly.

Edeard yelped in horror and dived away from the window. Even so he could still feel the tenuous touch of the other's farsight upon him. He put as much strength as he had behind his longtalk, and cried: 'Akeem! Akeem, wake up. The bandits are here. They're in the village.

His mental shout was like some kind of signal. The soft glow of minds materialized in the alleyways and lanes that wound through the cottages and Guild compounds. Edeard screamed. They were everywhere!

So many! Every bandit in the wilderness must be here tonight.

'What in the Lady's name, Akeem's fuzzy thoughts came questioning.

'Bandits, Edeard called again, with voice and mind. 'Hundreds of them. They're already here. He jabbed every ge-wolf in the compound with a mental goad, triggering their attack state. Loud, dangerous snarling rose from the courtyard.

Five bandits appeared in the street outside the Guild, strong and confident, making no further attempt at cover. They didn't have the muddy skin and wild hair of the ones in the forest; these wore simple dark tunics and sturdy boots. There were no bows and arrows, either. Strangely they wore two belts apiece, looped round their shoulders so they crossed over their chest. Little metal boxes were clipped on to the leather, along with a variety of knives. Whispers spilled out of the aether as they longtalked.

Then Edeard sensed the fastfoxes walking beside them; each had two of the tamed and trained beasts.

'Oh sweet Lady, no, he gasped. His mind registered Akeem longtalking the other elders, fast and precise thoughts raising the alarm.

It was too late. Flames appeared among Ashwell's rooftops. Torches thick with oil-fire spun through the air, guided by telekinesis to land full square on thatch roofs. The fire spread quickly, encouraged by the dry months of a good summer. A dreadful orange glow began to cover the village.

The ge-wolves were racing across the Guild courtyard. Edeard extended his third hand with furious intent and slammed the gates open for them. That was when he heard the noise for the first time. An awful thunderous roar as if a hundred pistols were all firing at once. White light flashed across his open window, and his mind felt the dirty glee of the bandits' thoughts coming from the street below. Ge-wolves fell in torment, their minds radiating terrible flares of pain as their flesh was shredded. Some of them managed to survive the strange weapons to collide with fastfoxes. The metallic roaring abated as the animals fought, tearing at each other as they writhed and spun and jumped.

That was when Edeard heard a woman scream. There was too much turmoil, too much anguish storming across Ashwell, for his farsight to track her down, but he knew what the sound meant. What it would mean for every woman in the village caught alive. And girl.

He sent a single piercing thought at the church. 'Salrana!

'Edeard, her panicked longtalk barked back. 'They're here, they're in the church.

His mind found her instantly, farsight zooming in as if he was illuminating her with a powerful beam of light. She was cowering in her room in the Mother's house which formed the back of the church. Inside the dome itself, three bandits were advancing along the empty aisles, radiating triumph and contempt as their fastfoxes stalked along beside them. Mother Lorellan was already out of bed and heading for the church to deal with the desecrators. For a devout woman her mind shone with inordinately strong aggression.

The bandits and their fastfoxes would cut her to ribbons, Edeard knew. 'Get out, he told Salrana. 'Move now. Out of the window and into the garden. Stay ahead of them, keep moving. Head for the market, it's cobbled, there's no fire there. I'll meet you at the corn measure station.

'Oh Edeard!

'Do it. Do it now.

He raced over to the window. It wasn't such a big jump to the street, and the carnage the fastfoxes were wreaking on the surviving ge-wolves was almost over. Whatever victors were left he could take care of them. Flames were racing across the thatch of the terraced cottages opposite. Doors were flung open, and men charged out, shields firm round their bodies, knives held high. The bandits raised their weapons, and the noise began again. Edeard watched numbly as the squat guns spat a blue-purple flame. Somehow they were firing dozens of bullets, reloading themselves impossibly fast. The villagers shook and flailed in agony as the bullets overwhelmed their shields.

'Bastards, Edeard yelled, and jumped.

'No! Don't. Akeem's longtalk was strong enough to make half the village pause. Even the guns were temporarily stilled.

Edeard landed, his bare heel shooting pain up his leg. He turned towards the nearest bandit, crouching as if he was about to go for a wrestling hold. Somehow he sensed both Akeem and the bandit in the guardtower both holding their breath. The bandit in front of him lifted the dark gun, snarling with delight. Edeard reached out with his third hand, closing it round the gun. He wasn't sure if even his shield could withstand quite so many bullets striking at him, but like every gun, you first had to pull the trigger. The bandit's eyes widened in surprise as his own shielding was unable to ward off Edeard's power. Then the street was subject to an unnerved screech as the bandit's fingers were snapped in quick succession. Edeard rotated the gun in front of the bandit's numb gaze until the man was staring right into the muzzle, then pulled back hard on the trigger. The discharge was awesome, even though it lasted barely a second before something snarled inside the gun's mechanism. It blew the bandit's head apart. Tatters of gore lashed down on the muddy street.

Three other bandits raised their guns. Edeard exerted himself, gripping their flesh tight with his third hand, preventing the slightest movement. 'Get them, he told the surviving villagers stumbling out of the blazing cottages.

'Oh, your death will be exquisite, the bandit in the watch-tower sent.

A gun roared behind Edeard. He turned, flinching, to see the fifth bandit falling on his own weapon, borne down by a swarm of ge-chimps which Akeem had instructed.

'I did say "don't", Akeem's longtalk chided.

'Thank you, Edeard replied. The villagers were dispatching the bandits with a ferocity that he found disturbing. Edeard let go of the bloody corpses. Then everyone was turning to him, awaiting guidance.

'Get into the Guild compound, he told them, aware of how it became an eerie echo of Melzar's instructions back in the forest. 'Group together. That will give your shields real strength.

'You, too, lad, Akeem said as Edeard picked up one of the bandit's guns. It was a lot heavier than he was expecting. A sweep with his farsight revealed an internal mechanism that was inordinately complicated. He didn't understand anything about it other than the trigger. There didn't seem to be many bullets left in the metal box in front of the stock. 'I have to help Salrana.

'No. All's lost here. Get out. Live Edeard, please. Just survive tonight. Don't let them win.

Edeard started running up the street, wincing every time his boot-less foot touched the ground. 'They won't destroy this village.

'They already have, lad. Take cover. Get out.

He sent his farsight flowing out ahead, alert for any bandits. Saw a fastfox loping along an alley. When it emerged Edeard was almost level with it; he pushed his third hand into the creature's skull and ripped its brain apart. It fell in the evil wavering light of burning thatch. The street was a gulley of leaping flame, as bright as any dawn. Screams shouts and gunfire split the harsh, constant flame-growl.

'You are good, aren't you? the watchtower bandit taunted.

Edeard pushed his farsight into the tower, but the man was no longer there. A quick scan of the surrounding area revealed nothing except the broken main gates and dead village guards. 'Where did he go? Edeard asked fretfully. 'Akeem, help, I can't sense half of them. He actually heard a gun mechanism snik smoothly, and hardened his shield. The blast of bullets came from a cottage he'd just passed. He got lucky, he decided afterwards, not all of the bullets hit him, the bandit's aim was off. That and his mind picked up a quiet longtalked, 'No, not him. Even so, the force of the shots which did hit was enough to send him sprawling backwards, half dazed. He instinctively lashed out with his third hand to the source of the shots. A bandit went staggering across the road, shaking his head. Edeard reached up to the furnace of thatch above, and tugged hard. Dense waves of flame peeled off the disintegrating roof and splashed down over the bandit, driving him to his knees. His screams were thankfully muffled.

'Are you all right? Akeem asked.

Edeard groaned as he rolled back to his feet, There were flames everywhere, their ferocity sending huge sparking balls of thatch high into the sky. Windows and doors were belching out twisting orange streamers. The heat was intense on his bare torso, he was sure he could feel his skin starting to crack and blister. 'I'm here, he replied. 'But I can't sense them, I don't know where they are. And he knew the watchtower bandit was coming, slipping stealthily through the swirling flames and sagging walls.

'Try this, Akeem said. His longtalk voice became stretched as if rising to birdsong. It seemed to fill Edeard's skull. A knowledge gift, thoughts and sometimes memories that explained how to perform a specific mental task. Edeard had absorbed hundreds of basic explanations on the art of sculpting but this was far more complex. As the song ended he began to shape his farsight and third hand together into a symbiotic force that wove a darkness through the air around him. It was like standing in the middle of a thick patch of fog.

'Now please, Akeem pleaded. 'Get out. Do not waste your life, Edeard, don't make some futile gesture. Please. Remember: the Blue Tower in Makkathran. Go there. Be someone.

'I can't leave you! he cried into the terrible night.

'The village is already lost. Now go. Go, Edeard. Don't let everything be wasted.

Edeard wanted to shout out that his Master was wrong, that his valiant apprentice friends and strong Masters like Melzar and Wedard were leading the fight back. But looking at the fiery devastation around him he knew it wasn't true. The screams were still filling the air, along with the snarl of fastfoxes and the deadly clamour of guns. Resistance was contracting to a few Guild compounds and halls. The rest of the village was burning to ruin. There was nothing to be saved. Except Salrana.

Edeard forced himself to his feet and started running towards the market again. Once, a bandit hurried past him along the street, not five yards away. The man never knew how close they were. Edeard could so easily have killed him, extracted some vengeance. But that would have shown the watchtower bandit where he was, and even through his anger and desperation Edeard knew he had neither the skill nor strength to win that confrontation.

He sped past three more bandits before charging into the marketplace. The square was surrounded by a wall of flame, but it was cooler amid the stalls. Two bandits were holding down a woman, laughing while the third of their band raped her. Their fastfoxes prowled round the little group, keeping guard.

Edeard just couldn't ignore it. He even recognized the woman though he didn't know her name; she worked at the tannery, helping prepare the hides.

The first the bandits knew of anything amiss was when their fastfoxes suddenly stopped circling. All six beasts swung their heads round, huge jaws opening to ready fangs the size of human fingers.

'What— one of the bandits managed to say. He brought his gun up, but it was too late. The fastfoxes leapt. More screams echoed out around the stalls.

'Ah, there you are, a longtalk voice gloated. 'I was worried you'd run away from me.

Edeard snarled into the smoke-wreathed sky. Try as he might, he couldn't track where the longtalk was originating.

'Now what are you doing there, apart from slaughtering my comrades? Oh yes, I see.

Edeard was aware of Salrana hunched up behind the counter in the corn measure stall, glancing upwards with a puzzled expression. He started to sprint towards her.

'He's in the marketplace, the bandit announced across the whole village. 'Close in.

Edeard sensed bandits turning to head towards him.

'Oh she is lovely. The very young one from the church, isn't it? Yes, I recognize her. Well congratulations, my tough little friend. Good choice. She's certainly worth risking everything for.

Edeard reached the corn measure stall, and dropped his concealment. Salrana gasped in astonishment as he appeared in front of her.

'Got you.

Edeard was only too well aware of the urgent satisfaction in the bandit's longtalk. There was the tiniest flashover of pounding feet, leg muscles straining with effort to get there, to capture the feared hoy.

'Right at the end I'm going to cut your eyelids off so you have no choice but to watch while I fuck her, the bandit said, twining his longtalk with a burst of dark pleasure. 'It'll be the last thing you see before you die. But you'll go straight to Honious knowing this; I'll keep her for my own. She's coming with me, tough boy. And I'll put her to work every single night. Your girl is going to spend the next decade bearing my children.

'Get up, Edeard yelled, and tugged at Salrana's arm. She was crying, her limbs limp and unresponsive. 'Don't let him get me, she wept. 'Please, Edeard. Kill me. I couldn't stand that. I couldn't, I'd rather spend eternity in Honious.

'Never, he said; his arms went round her and he enfolded her within his concealment.

'Get the fastfoxes in the market, the bandit ordered. 'Track him. Find his scent.

'Come on, Edeard whispered. He started for the main entrance, then stopped. Over ten bandits with their fastfoxes were heading up the street towards him. They ignored the frantic chickens and gibbering ge-chimps that were running away from the swirl of lethal flames consuming the buildings. 'Lady! He searched round, not daring to use his farsight in case the diabolical bandit could detect that.

'I don't care if the fire's making it hard to track. Find him!

The bandit's tone was angry, which was the first piece of good news Edeard had encountered all night. Now he glanced round, he saw just how awesome the fire had become. Every building was alight. A foul smoke tower billowed hundreds of feet over the village, blocking the constellations and nebulas. Below its dismal occlusion, walls were collapsing, sending avalanches of burning furniture and broken joists across the lanes. Even the bandits were becoming wary as the smaller alleys were blocked. Of course, the blazing destruction was also closing off Edeard's escape routes. What he needed was a distraction, and fast. His third hand shoved a pile of beer barrels, sending them toppling over. Several burst open. A wave of beer lapped across the cobbles, spreading wide. As the same time he grabbed the minds of as many genistars he could reach, and pulled them into the market, offering them sanctuary. The animals bounded over the stalls, stampeding down the narrow aisles. Flustered fastfoxes charged after them, shaking off their mental restraints to obey more basic hunter instincts.

Almost clever, the bandit announced. 'You think that'll cover your smell? Well why don't you avoid this, tough guy?

The bandits in the market square formed a loose line, and began firing, sweeping their blazing gun muzzles in wide arcs. Genistars howled and whimpered as the bullets chewed through their flesh. They jumped and sprinted for cover as lines of bullets swept after them. Fastfoxes snarled in hatred and distress as they too were hit. Dozens of animals tumbled lifeless on to the cobbles. Blood mingled with beer, washing down the slope.

Edeard and Salrana hunched down as bullets thudded into the stalls around them. Wood splinters whirled through the air. They started to crawl. It wasn't long before the guns stopped. Edeard waited for the next longtalk taunt, but it didn't come. 'Hurry, he urged her. Holding hands, they ran for the alley which led round tbe back of the Carpentry Guild compound. Bandits and their fastfoxes were on patrol around the walls. The inside of the compound burned like a brazier as fire consumed the woodworking halls and timber stores, sending vast plumes of flame into the smoke-clotted sky. The slate roof of the main building had al ready collapsed. Edeard wondered if anyone was still alive inside, maybe sheltering in the cellars. Surely Obron would have found a way. He couldn't imagine a world without Obron.

They came to a crossroads, and Salrana made to turn right.

'Not that way, he hissed.

'But that's down to the wall, she whispered back.

'They'll be expecting that. The fastfoxes will scent us if we try to climb over the ramparts.

'Where are we going then?

'Up towards the cliff.

'But… won't they search the caves?

'We're not sheltering in the caves, he assured her. He found a dozen genistars still alive nearby, mainly dogs, with a couple of chimps and even a foal; and ordered them to walk across and around the track they were leaving to lay false scents. Though he suspected not even fastfoxes would be able to track them with so much smoke and ash in the air.

It took a couple of minutes to reach the site where the new well was being dug. So far Wedard and his team had only excavated five yards down, with barely the top third lined in stone. 'In you go, Edeard told her. There was a small ladder leading down to the wooden framework at the bottom of the hole where ge-monkeys spent their days digging into the stone and clay.

'They'll look in here, Salrana said desperately.

'Only if it's open, Edeard said grimly, and gestured at the big stone cap which would seal the shaft once it was complete.

'You can move that? she asked incredulously.

'We'll find out in a minute. But I'm pretty sure no one can farsight through it.

Salrana started down the crude ladder, her mind seething with fright. Edeard followed her, stopping when his head was level with the rim. This was the biggest gamble, the one on which both their lives now depended, but he couldn't think of any way out of the village, not past the fastfoxes and alert bandits. He fired a longtalk query directly at the Eggshaper Gild compound. 'Akeem? he asked quietly. There was no reply. He still didn't dare use his farsight. With a last furious look at the raging firestorm which was his home, he reached out with his third hand and lifted the huge slab of stone. It skimmed silently through the air, keeping a couple of inches off the ground before settling on the top of the well shaft with a slow grinding sound. The orange glow of the flames, the sound of collapsing masonry and human anguish cut off abruptly.

Edeard waited for hours. He and Salrana clung to each other on the planking at the bottom of the pit, drawing what comfort they could from each other. Eventually, she fell into a troubled sleep, twitching and moaning. He wouldn't allow himself the luxury.

Is this all my fault? Were they seeking revenge for the ambush in the forest? But they started it. His worst guilt came from a single thought which nagged and nagged at his soul. Could I have done more? Now he was sober and the worst of the hangover had abated, he kept thinking about the sensation which had woken him so abruptly. It was the same as the alarm he'd felt in the forest, a foresight that something was wrong. Normally the senior priestesses of the Empyrean Lady claimed to have a modest timesense; granted of course by the Lady Herself. So such a thing was possible. If I hadn't been so stupid. If I hadn't wasted the warning…

He didn't want to open the stone cap. The scene which he knew would greet them was almost too much to contemplate. My fault. All my fault.

A few hours after they took refuge, some slices of pale light seeped in round the edge of the cap where the stone rim wasn't quite level. Still Edeard waited. The rise of the sun wasn't going to automatically make the bandits go away. There was nothing left for them to fear for tens of miles. It would be the villages now who would wait for the fall of each night with dread.

'We never suspected they were so well organized, Edeard said bitterly. 'Me of all people, I should have realized.

'Don't be silly, she said. In the dark she reached out for him again, her slim arm going round his waist. 'How could you have known? This is something beyond even the Mother to see.

'Did Mother Lorellan have a timesense?

'Not much of one, no. Yesterday evening she was concerned about something, but she couldn't define it.

'She couldn't see her own murder? What kind of timesense is that?

Salrana started sobbing again.

'Oh Lady, I'm so sorry, he said, and hugged her tight. 'I didn't think. I'm so stupid.

'No Edeard. You came to help me. Me, out of everybody in Ashwell; all your friends, your Master. Why? Why me?

'I… All those years, it was like just me and you against the world. You were the only friend I had. I don't think I would have made it without you. The number of times I thought about running off into the wild.

She shook her head in dismay. 'Then you'd have been a bandit, you would have been one of the invaders last night.

'Don't say that. Not ever. I hate them. First my parents, now… He couldn't help it, he hung his head and started weeping. 'Everything. Everything's gone. I couldn't help them. Everybody was scared of how strong I am, and when they really needed me I was useless.

'Not useless, she said. 'You helped me.

They spent a long time just pressed together. Edeard's tears dried up after a while. He wiped at his face, feeling stupid and miserable. Salrana's hands came up to cup his face. 'Would you like me? she whispered.

'Er… I. No. It was a very difficult thing to say.

'No? Her thoughts, already fragile, fountained a wave of bewildered hurt. 'I thought—

'Not now, he said, and gripped her hands. He knew what it was, the shattering grief, the loneliness and fright; all so evident in her thoughts. She needed comfort, and physical intimacy was the strongest comfort of all. Given his own shaky emotional state it would have been heartening for him, too. But he cared too much, and it would have felt too much like taking advantage. 'I really would, but you're young. Too young.

'Linem had a child last year, she wasn't quite as old as I am today.

He couldn't help but grin. 'What kind of example is that for a novice to set to her flock?

'Flock of one.

Edeard's humour faded. 'Yes: one.

Salrana looked up at the stone cap. 'Do you think any of them are left?

'Some, yes. Of course. Ashwell village is stubborn and resilient, that's what Akeem always said. That's how it's resisted change so effectively for the last few centuries.

'You really wanted to?

'I— He found it disconcerting the way she could jump between topics so lightly, especially when that was one of the subjects in question. 'Yes, he admitted cautiously. 'You must know how beautiful you're becoming.

'Liar! I have to visit Doc Seneo three times a week to get ointment for my face.

'You are growing up lovely, he insisted quietly.

'Thank you, Edeard. You're really sweet, you know. I've never thought of any other boy. It's always been you.

'Um. Right.

'It would be terrible to die a virgin, wouldn't it?

'Lady! You are the worst novice in the whole Void.

'Don't be so silly. The Lady must have enjoyed a good love life. She was Rah's wife. Half of Makkathran claim to be descended from them. That's a lot of children.

'This has to be blasphemy.

'No. It's being human. That's why the Lady was anointed by the Firstlifes, to remind us how to discover our true nature again.

'Well right now we need to think survival'

'I know. So how old do I have to be? Your age?

'Um, probably, yes. Yes, that's about right.

'Can't wait. Did you go with Zehar last night?

'Not— Hey, that is not your concern. For some stupid reason, he suddenly wished he had given in to Zehar's advances. She'll be dead now; quickly if she was lucky.

'You're going to be my husband. I'm entitled to know all about your old lovers.

'I'm not your husband.

'Not yet, she taunted. 'My timesense says you will be.

He threw up his hands in defeat.

'How long are we going to stay in here? she asked.

'I'm not sure. Even if there's nothing left to scare them off, they won't want to stay too long. The other villages will know what's happened by now. The smoke must have reached halfway to Odin's Sea, and the farms would have fled, longshouting all the way. I expect the province will raise the militia and give chase.

'A militia? Can they do that?

'Each province has the right to form a militia in times of crisis, he said, trying to remember the details Akeem had imparted about Querencia's constitutional law. 'And this definitely qualifies. As to the practical details, I expect the bandits will be long gone before any decent force can get here, never mind chase them into the wilderness. And those guns they had. He held up his trophy, frowning at the outlandish design. No doubting its power, though. 'I've never heard of anything like these before. It's like something humans owned from before the flight into the Void.

'So that's it? There's no justice.

'There will be, as long as I remain alive they will curse their boldness of this day. It is their own death they have brought to our village.

She clutched at him. 'Don't go after them. Please, Edeard. They live out there, it's their wilderness, they know this kind of life, the killing and brutality, they know nothing else. I couldn't stand it if they caught you.

'I had no notion to do it right away.

'Thank you.

'Okay, I think it's the afternoon now. Let's take a look.

'All right. But if they're still there and they see us… I can't be his whore, Edeard.

'Neither of us will be caught, he promised, and meant it. For emphasis he patted his gun. 'Now let's see what's out there. He started to apply his third hand to the cool stone. Lips touched his. His mouth opened in response and the kiss went on for a long time.

'Just in case, Salrana murmured, pressed up against him. 'I wanted us both to know what it was like.

'I… I'm glad, he said sheepishly.

This time it was a lot harder to move the huge stone slab. It was only after he started he realized how exhausted he was, and hungry, and scared. But he shifted the stone a couple of inches until a slim crescent of mundane grey sky was visible. There were no excited shouts or farsight probes down into the pit. He couldn't send his own farsight across much distance given the tiny gap and the fact he was still below ground. Instead, his mind called out to the Guild's sole ge-eagle. His relief when the majestic bird replied was profound. It was perched up on the cliffs, distressed and bewildered. What it showed him when it took flight swiftly brought his mood back down again.

There was nothing left. Nothing. Every cottage was a pile of smouldering rubble; the Guild compounds with their sturdy stone walls had collapsed. He could barely make out the street pattern. A thin layer of grubby smog drifted slowly over the ruins.

When the eagle swooped in lower, he could see the bodies. Charred clothes flapped limply on blackened flesh. Worse still were the parts that stuck out of the debris. Motion caught the eagle's attention, and it pivoted neatly on a wingtip.

Old Fromal was sitting beside the ruins of his house, head in his hands, rocking back and forth, his filthy old face streaked by tears. There was a small boy, naked, running round and round the wrecked market stalls. He was bruised and bleeding, his face drawn into a fierce rictus of determination, not looking at anything in the physical world.

'They're gone, Edeard said. 'Let's go out. He dropped the bated gun and shoved the slab aside.

The stench was the worst of it; cloying smell of the smoking wood remnants saturated with burnt meat. Edeard almost vomited at the impact. It wasn't all genistars and domestic animals that were roasting. He tore a strip of cloth from his ragged trousers, damped it in a puddle, and tied it over his face.

They halted the running boy, who was in a shock too deep for reason to reach. Led old man Fromal away from the hot coals that had been his home for a hundred and twenty-two years. Found little Sagat cowering in the upturned barrels beside the working well.

Seven. That was how many they and the eagle found. Seven survivors out of a village numbering over four hundred souls.

They gathered together just outside the broken gates, in the shadow of the useless rampart walls, where the reek of the corpses wasn't so bad. Edeard went back in a couple of times, trying to find some clothes and food, though his heart was never in the search.

That was how the posse from Thorpe-By-Water village found them just before dusk. Over a hundred men riding horses and ge-horses, well armed, with ge-wolves loping along beside them. They could barely believe the sight which awaited them, nor did they want to accept it was organized bandits who were responsible. Instead of giving chase and delivering justice, they turned and rode back to Thorpe-By-Water in case their own loved ones were threatened. The survivors were taken with them. None of them ever returned.

Edeard used his longtalk to tell Salrana: 'The caravan is here.

'Where? she answered back. 'I can't sense them.

'They've just reached Molby's farm, they should be at the village bridge in another hour or so.

'That's a long way to farsee, even for you.

'The ge-eagle helps, he admitted.

'Cheat!

Edeard laughed. 'I'll meet you in the square in half an hour.

'All right.

He finished instructing the flock of ge-chimps clearing out the stables and excused himself with Tonri, the senior apprentice. All he got for his courtesy was an indifferent grunt. Thorpe-By-Water's Eggshaper Guild hadn't exactly welcomed him with open arms. There was a huge question about his actual status. The Master hadn't yet confirmed him as a journeyman. Edeard's request that he should be recognized as such had generated a lot of resentment among the other apprentices, who believed he should be the junior. That his talent was so obviously greater than any of them, even the Master, didn't help the situation.

Salrana had been accepted a lot more readily into the Lady's Church by Thorpe-By-Water's Mother. But she wasn't happy, either. 'This will never be our home, she told Edeard sadly after their first week. Thorpe-By-Water's residents didn't exactly shun the refugees from Ashwell, but they weren't made welcome. Rulan province now lived in fear of the bandits. If they could strike Ashwell, which was three days' ride from the edge of the wilderness, they could strike anywhere in the province. Life had changed irrevocably. There were patrols out in the farmlands and forests constantly now; and craftsmen were having to leave aside all nonurgent tasks to strengthen village walls. Everyone in the Rulan province was going to be poorer this winter.

Edeard walked into the market square to the same averted glances he'd been getting every day for the last three weeks. With its stalls and cobbled floor it was remarkably similar to the one in Ashwell. Larger, of course, Thorpe-By-Water was a bigger village, built in a fork of the River Gwash, providing it with natural protection along two sides. A canal moat had been dug between the two fast flowing water courses, with a sturdy drawbridge in the middle, completing the defences. Edeard thought that might make them safer than Ashwell. There really was only one real point of entry. Unless the bandits used boats. Where would bandits get enough boats from…

His farsight was casually aware of Salrana hurrying towards him. They greeted each other in front of one of the many fish stalls. She was dressed in the blue and white novice robe of the lady, one which was slightly baggy this time.

'Almost like before, Edeard said, looking her up and down. He was quietly aware of the glances she was drawing from the other young men in the market.

She wriggled inside it, pulling at the long flared sleeves. 'I'd forgotten how prickly this fabric is when it's new, she said. 'I only ever had one new one before at Ashwell, for my initiation ceremony; the rest were all second-hand. But the Mother here has had five made for me. She gave his clothes an assessment. 'Still not found a weaver?

Edeard rubbed at his ancient shirt with its strange mis-coloured patches. His trousers were too short as well, and the boots were so old the leather was cracked along the top. 'You need money for a weaver to make a shirt. Apprentices are clothed by their Guild. And apprentices without status get the pick of everything the others don't want.

'He still hasn't confirmed your journeyman status?

'No. It's all politics. His own journeymen are totally inept, and that's mostly thanks to his poor training. They lose at least six out of every ten eggs. That's just pitiful. Even Akeem's apprentices didn't lose that many. They're also five years older than me, so putting me on their level would be an admission of how rubbish he actually is. I didn't appreciate what I'd got with Akeem. He fell silent at the painful memory. They should have made time to recover the bodies, to give their village a proper funeral blessed by the Lady.

'You knew, she said supportively.

'Yes. Thanks. They wandered through the market, Edeard looking enviously at the various clothes on display. As an apprentice he wasn't allowed to trade any eggs he sculpted, they all belonged to the Guild. Akeem had been decently flexible about it, believing in a quiet rewards system. But now Edeard found himself with no money, no friends, and no respect. It was like being ten years old again.

'One of the patrols came in last night, Salrana said as they walked. 'The Mother was at the meeting of village elders this morning; the patrol leader told them they'd found no sign of bandits, let alone a large group of them. Apparently there's talk about cutting down the patrols.

'Idiots, Edeard grunted. 'What were they expecting to find? We told them the bandits can conceal themselves.

'I know. Her expression turned awkward. 'Our word doesn't count for much.

'What do they think destroyed Ashwell?

'Give them some grace, Edeard; their whole world is being turned upside down right now. That's never easy.

'Whereas we've had a cosy ride.

'That's not nice.

'Sorry. He took a long breath. 'I just hate this: after all we went through, and we get treated as if we're the problem. I really should have kept that gun. He'd left it at the bottom of the well shaft, not wanting any part of a bandit legacy. The gun was pure evil. Ever since, he'd been trying to draw the fidgety little components he'd sensed inside. Thorpe-By-Water's blacksmith had laughed when he'd taken the sketches to him, telling him no such thing could be made. Now people were becoming sceptical about the whole repeat-shooting-gun story.

'You did the right thing, she said. 'How awful would life be if everyone had a weapon like that.

'It's pretty awful that the bandits have it and we don't, he snapped at her. 'What's to stop them sweeping through the whole province? Then further? How about the entire region?

'That won't happen.

'No, it won't, because the governor will raise an army. Thankfully, there are more of us than them, so we can win no matter how terrible their weapons are. But that will mean bloodshed on a scale we've never known. He wanted to beat his fists against the nearest stall. 'How did they get that gun? Do you think they found one of the ships we came in?

'Maybe they never left the ship they came in, she said in a small voice.

'Perhaps. I don't know. Why will no one listen to us?

'Because we're children.

He turned to snarl at her, then saw the deep worry in her thoughts, her tired face dabbed with greenish ointment. She was so lovely. Somehow he knew Akeem would approve him risking everything to save her. 'I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm taking it out on you.

'Because I'm the only one who listens, she told him.

'Lady, it's worse here than Ashwell in some ways. The elders are so… backward. They must inbreed like dogs.

Salrana grinned. 'Keep your voice down, she scolded.

'Okay, he grinned back. 'Not much longer now, I hope.

People were gathering along the side of the market square to watch the caravan arrive. Edeard counted thirty-two wagons rolling along the road and over the drawbridge. Most had terrestrial beasts tethered to them; horses, donkeys, oxen, cows; some had pens carrying huge pigs. Ge-wolves padded alongside. There were more outriders with pistols than Edeard remembered from before. The wagons were as large and impressive as he recalled, with their metal-rimmed wheels as tall as him. Most of them were covered by curving canopies of dark oiled cloth, though several were clad in tarred wood almost like tiny mobile cottages. Entire families sat on the driver's bench, waving and smiling as they wound their way into the market. Every summer the caravans would tour the district, trading animals, seeds, eggs, tools, food, drink, and fancy cloth from Makkathran itself. They didn't always visit Ashwell, but Edeard could remember the excitement when they did.

Even before the wagons had stopped, villagers were shouting up at the travelling families, asking what they'd brought. It was a good-natured crowd who had little time for the Mayor's welcoming speech to the caravan leader. Trading was already underway before the formalities were over. Samples of wine and beer were handed down, mostly to apprentices. Edeard chewed on some dried beef that had been flavoured with a spice he'd never tasted before. Salrana picked daintily at trays of fruit and pickled vegetables though she was less restrained when it came to exotic chocolates.

As the evening sky began to darken, Edeard was in considerably better spirits. A lot of the villagers were making for home and supper before returning for the night's traditional festivities. He and Salrana made their way to the lead caravan. The last remaining villagers were leaving, studiously ignoring the Ashwell pair as they did so.

Barkus, the caravan Master, was also as Edeard remembered. A man several decades into his second century, but still hale. He had the largest sideburns Edeard had ever seen, white whiskers bristling round the curve of his jawbone, framing ruddy cheeks. His barrel torso was clad in a red silk shirt and an extravagant blue and gold waistcoat. 'And what can I do for you two? he chortled as Edeard and Salrana edged in close to his wagon; his large family glanced at them and kept about their work, extending the awning on a frame of martoz wood to form an extensive tent. 'I think we've run out of beer samples. He winked at Edeard.

'I want to come with you to Makkathran, we both do.

Barkus let out a booming laugh. Two of his sons sniggered as they pushed the awning pegs into the hard ground. 'Very romantic, I'm sure. I admire your pluck young sir, and you my Lady's lady. But sadly we have no room for passengers. Now I'm sure that if the two of you are to be ah… how shall we say, blessed by an addition, your parents won't be as fearsome as you expect. Trust me. Go home and tell them what's happened.

Salrana drew her shoulders back. 'I am not pregnant. I take my vows of devotion very seriously.

Which blatant lie almost deflated Edeard's indignation. 'I am Edeard and this is Salrana; we're the survivors from Ashwell. He was very aware of the silence his statement caused. Barkus's family were all looking at them. Several strands of farsight emanating from the other side of the wagon swept across them. 'I believe you knew my Master, Akeem.

Barkus nodded sagely. 'You'd best come inside. And the rest of you, get back to work.

The wagon was one of those boasting a wooden cabin. The inside was fitted with beautiful ancient golden wood, intricately carved with a quality which would have eluded Geepalt and his apprentices. Every section of the walls and ceiling were made of doors which came in sizes from some no bigger than Edeard's fist to those taller than he. Barkus opened a pair of horizontal ones, and they folded down into long cushioned benches. Two of the small doors along the apex slid aside to expose misty glass panels. Barkus struck a match and pushed it through a small hole at the end of the glass, lighting a wick. The familiar cosy glow of a jamolar oil flame filled the cabin.

Edeard smiled round, very impressed.

'I remember your Master with great fondness, Barkus said, waving them on to the bench opposite himself. 'He travelled out here with us a long time ago. I was barely your age at the time. Your Mother, too, novice Salrana, always showed us kindness. Both will be missed and mourned. It was a terrible thing.

'Thank you, Edeard said. 'I don't wish to impose, but neither of us can stay in Thorpe-By-Water. We're not very welcome, and in any case it's too close to Ashwell.

'I understand. The whole province is shaken by what happened, though I've heard a great many different versions already. Including, I have to say, a couple which cast you in a less than favourable light, young man. I held my tongue at the telling of such tales because I remember you from our last visit, four summers ago. I also remember what Akeem said about you. He was impressed with your talent, and old Akeem was not easily swayed especially by one so young.

'Edeard risked his life to save me, Salrana said.

'That also I have heard.

'Before that night, Akeem said he wanted me to go to Makkathran to study at the Blue Tower of my Guild. I would — no, I will, see his wish come true.

Barkus smiled softly. 'A worthy goal, young man.

'We will work our passage, Edeard said forcefully. 'I will not freeload.

'Nor I, said Salrana.

'I would expect nothing less, Barkus said. He seemed troubled. 'However, it is a long way, we will not reach Makkathran until next spring, and that is if all goes well. Many caravans have already cut short their regular journey to leave this province. The stories of Ashwell's fate are many, but they have unnerved all of us. As I remember, Akeem said you have a strong third hand?

'That's true. But my talent is in sculpting. There are many wild defaults in the woods and hills of this province. By the time winter falls I can sculpt you a pack of ge-wolves that no bandit gang will ever get past no matter how strong their concealment. I can sculpt them with a stronger sense of smell than any you've used hitherto. I can also sculpt eagles which will circle for miles on every side of the convoy searching out the slightest hint of treachery or ambush.

'I'm sure you can. Even now Barkus was unsure.

'I can also teach you and your families this, Edeard said. He wove his concealment around himself. Barkus gasped, leaning forward blinking. Edeard felt the caravan Master's farsight whipping back and forth across the cabin. He quietly got up and sat next to the startled Barkus, then withdrew his concealment. 'How could the bandits attack you if they can't see you?

'Dear Lady! Barkus grunted. 'I never knew such a thing…

'Akeem gifted this to me.

Barkus regained his composure quickly. 'Did he now. Akeem was right about you, and so I think are half the tales. Very well my dear youngsters, I will accept you both as family tyros. You will come with us as far as Makkathran. And you will indeed work your passage. Let's see if you think such nobility is worthwhile when we reach the Ulfsen mountains. However, Edeard, this arrangement is conditional on you not teaching anyone your concealment trick, do you concur?

'I do, sir. I don't understand why, though.

'You haven't taught it to anyone in Thorpe-By-Water, have you?

'No, sir.

'That's a good political instinct you have there, my boy. Let's just keep it that way, shall we. There's enough trouble infecting our poor old world as it is without everyone sneaking around unseen. Though if you can find a way for farsight to uncover such trickery, I'd be grateful if you would inform me at once.

'Yes, sir.

'Good lad. We leave with the dawn light in three days' time. If you're not here that morning, we still leave. Though I don't suppose your Master will object to your exodus.

'I don't believe he will, sir.

'Makkathran! Edeard said as they hurried away from the wagon. Now Barkus had said he'd take them, all his earlier worries and doubts had dried up. He'd thought that he was running away, that he was being a coward for putting all the provinces between himself and the bandits, for allowing them to deal with the problem and endure their blood being spilt to safeguard the land while he lived a safe comfortable life in the city. But now they were going and that was that. 'Imagine it.

'I can't believe it. Salrana's smile was wide and carefree. 'Do you think it will be as wonderful as the stories we've heard?

'If it is only a tenth as fabulous as they say, it will be beyond anything I have dreamed.

'And we'll be safe, she sighed.

'Yes. He put his arm round her shoulder. In a brotherly fashion! 'We'll be safe. And what splendid lives we'll live in the capital of the world.