David Farland - Beyond the Gate

“I have heard this rumor, too,” Ceravanne admitted reluctantly, eyeing Gallen for his reaction. “But mark my words, the Immortals will not let their human soldiers cross the oceans. They will not carry their war to the Inhuman, whatever the provocation.”

“Pity, Inhuman does not feel same,” the Caldurian guard said. “No one has counted people of Babel, but they outnumber humans. They will strike first, and they will strike hard. Humans can’t stand against them.”

“You seem certain,” Ceravanne said, setting down her fork, watching the Caldurian for a confirmation.

The Caldurian shrugged. “I hear things.”

“What kinds of things?” Ceravanne asked.

“Rumors.” Aherly laughed, too nervously. “Rumors are all you’ve heard.”

The Caldurian studied his face, and seemed to take a warning from it, as if perhaps it was unsafe to speak further. “Rumors,” she agreed.

That night in Gallen and Maggie’s room, when the waves rode high and the boat tossed on the sea, Orick lay sprawled on the floor while Ceravanne reclined on his stomach, as if it were a pillow. Gallen and Maggie gathered round and held a council, speaking softly.

“What is this about a war?” Gallen demanded from Ceravanne, his voice almost a hiss. “You said nothing about it last night!”

“It’s a rumor started by the Immortals,” Ceravanne said. “So long as the hosts of the Inhuman believe that we have troops massed and prepared, we hope that they will not march against us. Meanwhile, we are trying to gather armies. A muster has gone out. Our lords fear that now that the dronon have left, the Inhuman will try to seize power. As to whether the Inhuman has gathered armies, we do not know. So far, we have heard only rumors, no more substantial than those we have spread ourselves.”

“What if those rumors are true?” Gallen asked, incredulous. “You want us to march into an armed country?”

“We have no choice,” Ceravanne said. “But think of this: if armies are now gathering, a muster could work to our advantage by drawing soldiers away from Moree. It could aid our quest.

“Gallen, you must understand something,” Ceravanne said. “We don’t know how many foes we are up against. As the Caldurian told you, the people of Babel have never been numbered, and we can’t even guess how many have joined the Inhuman. But there is one thing we do know: we know the quality of their troops. The Tekkar are swift and brutal in ways you cannot comprehend. They live in dark warrens carved into the stones, and no one can guess their numbers. They alone would sorely test our defenses. Their swift-winged scouts can fly long and far, coordinating armies in ways that we cannot match. And there are thousands of lesser races in Babel, each with its own unique strengths.

“Gallen, the message we sent to the rebels was recorded six months ago. It took a long time to contact you. I’ve been waiting for you now for months, and you may have come too late to do much good. It may be that we cannot avert a war.

“I fear that the hosts of the Inhuman will sweep across Northland, and the human hosts of Tremonthin may be decimated.

“But no matter what our quest may accomplish, we must at least try.”

“If I’d known this last night,” Gallen said, “we could have hurried!”

“Hurried where?” Ceravanne said. “It would have been foolish to try to leave port in the dark, even if we’d had a trustworthy captain handy who was willing. We left as soon as we could, and we cannot make the wind blow us any faster. We’ve hired a lofty ship-but until we reach port in Babel, you and I have no power to even begin the race to Moree.

“Gallen, there may be more dangers ahead than I have told you, depending on our route. There are peoples in Babel who do not think as we do, and we may be unsafe among them. Some, like the Derrits, are uncivilized and eat other peoples for food. Some, like the Tekkar, are civilized and more brutal. And we are just as likely to find unexpected friends. It has been five hundred years since I left Babel, and I do not know what people occupy the lands now. Mostly, I fear the Inhuman and its Tekkar. But I do not want to burden you with possible dangers.”

“Tell me this, then, at least,” Gallen said. “Why are you here? Why did you insist on coming? Why do you insist on facing the Inhuman yourself?”

“I came for many reasons,” Ceravanne said. “I came because you need a guide, and few in the human lands could do this. I came because I fear that you may not have the heart to do what is required, and I hoped to give you strength, and to help rally the people of Babel to our need, if possible.” She leaned closer and said softly, “Gallen, it is not enough to destroy the Inhuman-I have come to undo the damage it has wrought.”

“Ooh! How can you do that?” Gallen asked.

“I’m not sure,” Ceravanne said. “I can only try.” She plainly did not want to say any more.

“Right, then,” Gallen mumbled. He turned away from her in frustration, bit his upper lip. There were volumes that needed to be spoken between them, but they would not be spoken now. “We must take stock of our situation.

“What did you think of our dinner guests tonight?” Gallen asked, looking between Ceravanne, Orick, and Maggie. “It seems to me that other folks had secrets to keep. Not just us. I don’t trust Zell’a Cree.”

“Why not?” Ceravanne asked.

“He claimed to be a merchant, but when I asked what he sold, he didn’t tell. Every merchant I’ve ever met is quick to grab your collar, and if he’s any good, he’ll try to unload half his wares before you get away. That man is no merchant, and he’s no human.”

“He is a Tosken,” Ceravanne said. “Outwardly, he can pass as human. Inwardly, he is something else entirely. Still, they are a peaceful people.”

“You don’t think he is dangerous?” Gallen asked.

“He has no fear-of death, of pain, of strangers. And because he has no fear, he is not likely to harm us.”

“And what of the captain?” Maggie said, bending down close to Gallen, taking his hand in hers. “He practically admits that he transports those who are in league with the Inhuman.”

“If he were secretly in league with the Inhuman, would he admit to transporting them?” Ceravanne asked. “No, I think he is like any merchant. He would rather make money than ask dangerous questions.”

“And if he is loyal only to money,” Orick said, “then he’s loyal only to those who pay the most-or last. As long as our purse has a bottom, I won’t trust him.”

“Tallea said she was loyal to the truth,” Maggie whispered.

“Yes,” Orick said, excited. “A curious sentiment. Which truth, do you think? And why did she leave Moree? To escape the Inhuman?”

“She’s not loyal to the Inhuman,” Ceravanne said.

“How can you know? Maggie asked.

“She wore no belt.”

“What do you mean?” Gallen asked.

“Tallea is a Caldurian,” Ceravanne said. “Her people are often called ‘the Allies.’ They were created long ago-long before the Tharrin were formed-by corporate warlords who sought total devotion from their workers. When they are young, Caldurians may bond to a certain patron, and they remain faithful throughout life. And when they bond, they wear a belt as a sign of their bondage. She is not bonded to Captain Aherly, or to anyone else.”

Orick looked at Ceravanne appreciatively. She seemed to have a keen eye, and he saw now that her presence on this journey would be invaluable.

“Which means that she might hire her services out to us,” Ceravanne considered. “She would make an excellent escort.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have a man?” Maggie asked. “Someone who is stronger?”