139
Changes
Something was shaking him. Anaph tried to ignore it; he was tired. “Doan bug me”, he muttered, “Ize sleepin’.”
“For two days”, a voice agreed. He couldn’t place it; he didn’t care. Then it hit. He rolled over.
“Two days?” Anaph tried to remember: he’d asked for what books they wanted, and reached.... “What happened? I was trying for books.”
“You got books.” There was something she wasn’t saying. “Do you feel whole?”
Whole? A Druid without his staff, whole? But as he thought of it, he realized it was close. That was comforting; it brought balance. Balance allowed his spirit to stand, to stretch. It was like breathing, and in a way was breathing, just on a different level where instead of air molecules, life-motes flowed in and out. “Yeah”, he replied quietly, “I feel whole. Just... thin.”
She regarded him with the “I’ll have no nonsense” analytical yet motherly sort of look universal to nurses where he’d grown up. “Drained?”
His nod told the story; still, he spoke. “Definitely drained. Not weak, though... but no endurance.”
Like a battery with enough oomph to start the car, but don’t let it stop! he thought.
She nodded. “Rest until some of the others are awake. And just because your staff stands upright by itself doesn’t mean you should try.” The admonition was delivered in friendly fashion, yet Anaph still wanted to get his staff from just around the corner. He decided he could survive it, and went back to sleep.
When he awoke again, Aaron Lum was there, leafing through a book, and using Vaidyanaath’s head as a reading stand. The Indian’s chest rose and fell steadily; Anaph hadn’t been the only one sleeping. Aaron saw Anaph’s eyes open, closed the book and set it on Vaidyanaath’s ear. “Not a great ear plus, but he sleeps soundly.” The affection in Aaron’s tone warmed Anaph.
“That’s one I snagged?” asked Anaph softly.
“Right – Smythe-Masterson’s
History of Ores and Refining. Not my field, but interesting.” He laughed, a dry, wry sort of laugh. “I don’t think there will be much to do in molecular circuits for a while.” A haunted look dimmed his eyes. “At least we won’t be making nukes, either.
“So.” He set the book on the stand. “I’m supposed to ask if you’d like to go for a ride.”
Anaph wasn’t sure he had the energy – but there were ways for Druids to cheat, so he went with the affirmative.
Waiting for him outside, where the sun was bright, the sky that intense blue only a cold winter high pressure system brings, and three inches of glistening crystalline-white snow covered everything except a few tracks, was a familiar face. “Anaph-Drûdh, apologies. My legs are good for riding, but I still walk poorly.” The stirrups on his saddle were set a finger or two higher than usual, perhaps for support, but at the moment those legs were dangling. The rider caught Anaph’s glance, and grinned. “Shannon says dangling is good for them. Shannon says he’s not really serious. But it feels better without the pressure all the time.”
The Druid was down the first step when Vaidyanaath caught up. “You say there’s no magic – but what your Healers and Druids did with him, that’s magic.” Anaph shrugged; he didn’t feel like playing word games, and his senses were already reaching out to examine the wonder before him. A few steps, a few strides – weaker enough it made him unhappy – and he stopped where he could lean on horse and staff and look up.
“Konan – on a horse again.” He gently stroked the youngster’s left thigh, which was closest to him. The energies seemed more vibrant than his own! “How long?”
“On Snowdrift? Three days.” Anaph almost laughed at the name for the not-quite-all-white animal, seemingly a reference to the event that had originally cost Konan legs and arms both. Konan caught that, too, and sobered a touch. “He’s white, and he likes kicking up snow – if I give him his head, he’ll wander out of our way to kick at a drift. Keiila says that’s good for me. Sometimes snowdrifts scare me a little, but she says if I face them that will end.”
The reasoning sounded a little too modern to Anaph. “Keiila is new, isn’t she.”
Konan nodded. “She’s a ‘Yankee’, from ‘Bellingham’ in ‘Columbia Province’. Her lover is Sheila, from ‘Muskegon’ in ‘Great Lakes Province’. They say those are not on this world?”
“No, they’re not”, Anaph agreed. “Where I was born isn’t on this world – along with Rigel and all his people. Does that trouble you?”
Konan stared at the horizon, where medium-sized snow clouds were dusting mountaintops, for nearly a minute. He sucked in a deep breath and sighed once, then again a dozen seconds later, and again a third time. “You are the same as we are. Lumina K·nay’zee is with child from Pedhrûánåg ap Crûánåch.” Another sigh. “You gave many children to women of the Servant Village. If you were not people as we, could that be so?” He shook his head. “The Source gives many things. If it gives different worlds with other peoples, how is that a trouble?” He stared again, then slapped his legs, one at a time. “From the Source I have new arms and legs, from the Source I have all of you. The first does not trouble me – the second does not trouble me.”
Vaidyanaath stared and blinked. “You’re quite a thinker.”
Konan shrugged. “I watched moons go by, and by, and by, while my arms and legs grew again. What could I do that was useful but think?” He smiled with a touch of irony. “Healers talked to me. I couldn’t go anywhere -- until the Konan-chair”, he qualified with a slightly embarrassed grin, “so they could talk and have an audience. Respect meant listening. How could I not respect those who were making me whole again? Listening, I had to think, because some wished answers. Thinking, I learned to think more.” He shrugged. “So thinking became my companion – when I had visitors, I thought, and when I was alone, I thought.” He glanced around the Healer compound. “I became a messenger, on wheels and now hooves. While a messenger travels, there is time, so I filled it with thinking.”
Anaph wanted to hug him, but that little switch of hands to slap his legs strongly suggested his legs weren’t quite enough to depend on for his balance. “Maybe we should have Wise Men along with Wise Women!” he proposed. “You could be the first.”
Konan shook his head. “I heard a word Lord Ryan used, and asked Lumina. It is what I would like to be – an ambassador. Lord Rigel needs people to speak for him – to the Celts, to the Escobars. Perhaps to the British”, he added after a moment’s pause, then grimaced. “Not to the Quistadors – they seem cruel.”
Aaron laughed. “They have an Inquisition – of course they’re cruel!” His expression soured, then: an attendant had arrived with horses, leading two, and keeping an eye on Gloaming, who walked by himself and came up to Anaph without guidance.
“Hey, fellow”, Anaph said fondly, “I think we’re supposed to take these others for a walk. I’m ready if you are.”
Vaidyanaath swung into the saddle methodically, a lot like he was following an instruction manual. Aaron grimaced, tried... and missed, as the horse, sensing this human’s uncertainty, stepped away. Anaph flicked his staff with a finger once and again, drawing the mare’s attention. Then he just looked at her with raised eyebrows, until she looked away and down.
“She’ll behave now”, Konan told Aaron with a sort of proprietary look at Anaph. “She knows if she doesn’t obey Anaph-Drûdh, he’ll have Titanium deal with her.
“‘Titanium’?” Aaron asked. “Is that a horse? Someone named a horse after a metal?”
“He’s the king of horses, and he picked Squire Austin to ride him”, Konan asserted, a little defensive.
“Right – the horse picked him”, Aaron responded skeptically.
Anaph chuckled. “Ask yourself how a teenager caught a horse no other horse can come close to outrunning – it doesn’t look so silly, then. And these horses are smarter than our homes.”
Aaron considered for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, maybe – but why ‘king of the horses’?”
“Because all the horses do what Titanium wants”, Konan informed him. “Even ones that never met him.” He glanced at Anaph. “I know the accounts of the escapades with the Escobar.”
Anaph nodded. “I heard – their work horses heeded him, too. Aaron, I wouldn’t have believed it, but I’ve seen it. Austin can stand on Titanium’s back, facing backwards, and tell him where to go – and he does.” He recalled the escape from Others out on the savanna. “But when Titanium thinks he knows better, he does things his way.”
Vaidyanaath grinned. “Can he count to five?” he asked, teasing.
The Druid shrugged. “Ask him.” A nudge from a large nose drew his attention; the two “Yankees’” jaws dropped as Gloaming half-knelt to let the weakened rider ascend. Anaph just grinned at them, one raised eyebrow effectively asking, “Well?” Then he did use the word. “Well, where are we riding?”
“Around, then to see someone”, Konan replied. “Riding gives him time to get ready.” He didn’t expand on that, leaving his hearers to wonder if something complicated was ahead, or it was another patient at Healer Hall.
The ride was quiet. Aaron and Vaidyanaath knew the immediate area from their recovery period after the, in everyone’s opinion, deficient Snatch; Anaph was testing muscles and reflexes still suffering from something he didn’t yet understand – but was confident he would; it must have been something about the snag attempt. As he pondered, he realized he’d noticed something was odd just a moment after he’d touched his staff – but there wasn’t anyone who could confirm it! No one else had tried to snag something across world lines.
Konan’s legs grew weary, so he turned their course toward one of the outer buildings. It was all Healer Hall; it just wasn’t one hall, one building, unless covered walkways between counted. But the name didn’t just mean the buildings, what Ryan called a campus, it was like the word “House” – a noble House was all the people in it, and Healer Hall was all the Healers and their helpers.
“Is he ready?” Konan asked, dismounting onto a platform that two attendants cranked lower.
“And waiting”, one answered, handing Konan one crutch, then another. A glance toward the sky conveyed the impatience of the one in question, so the other three dismounted, Anaph telling Gloaming to be close – and the other two to stay with Gloaming. To Aaron, it was a testimony to the contention that the horses were intelligent that the attendants didn’t bother at all to tie them up, though a boy and a girl came to rub them down lightly.
“Versorix, Anaph’s here”, Konan announced as still another attendant – this one with green trim on her sleeves, meaning she had the Healer spark. “Time to confess!” The tone of voice was teasing; the two had plainly gotten to know each other at least a little.
“About time”, came the grumbling reply as the small party entered what Lumina was calling a “recovery room”, for lack of a better term. “Drûdh-ri, I am sorry. I saw a chance, and took it.” In explanation, he held up a copy of
History of Ores and Refining, the very same book Aaron had been perusing. Aaron held up his to show he still had it. Just then Ryan came in from the room’s bathroom, and held up another.
“Here’s the third one”, he announced. “I’ve looked through, and they’re identical – same stray marks, same bent pages, same stains.” He glanced at Versorix. “My model is from Star Trek, but he can tell it.”
The Healer who’d opened the door still stood there. “Tea is coming”, she informed them. “And herb biscuits. You need your strength, too”, she admonished the “Yankees”. “I may only have green trim, but I can see your health.” With that she exited at a trot.
Ryan handed out seating – folding chairs that looked just like those in any gym-auditorium back in either home of the Snatched. Anaph grinned at the sight; Aaron chuckled – but Vaidyanaath bit his lower lip. “Too much the same, too different”, he whispered.
“It’s like that all the way around”, Ryan responded. “Our two worlds are close enough in many ways we feel comfortable together easily. But little details remind us they aren’t the same world.” He didn’t push the thought. “But that’s not the topic”, he concluded as he retrieved his own chair and sat. “Versorix, take it.”
The Druid, plainly an older Celt, his back slightly crooked, both bent forward and to the right, scooted back and forth a little, seeking a comfortable upright position. “Yes. Anaph, we sought books. Eraigh found the pair, and you guided us. You focused us, and reached out. I saw how you were not taking the books, but their pattern – the books would be formed here, of material from here, though gathered I understand not how. I wondered, and I saw the chance. It had to be done then, in the instant, not hesitating, so I did not. I repeated your bringing the pattern, so it left there once, but came here more.” He looked away, embarrassed. “I meant just one more, but once I began, I was caught in my act, and it repeated again.” He took a sip of tea to hide his embarrassment and shame.
“There’s a sort of partial fourth set”, Ryan explained. “More a mass of sort-of paper with ink. I’ve peeled some back, and the first nine pages match these.” He held up his copy. “There are three copies of the
Imperial Handbook of Physical and Chemical Properties, too – and almost a fourth.” He grinned. “Your book stack started forming at the bottom, so we have all but the first thirty pages of that one. Some of the Yankees are working to duplicate those by hand, so we’ll have four full copies. Nine pages will be fat; someone came up with a way to peel the almost-solid pages free and use one of the Crafthall’s glues to strengthen them, but it made the fibers swell.”
He sobered. “Anaph, that fiber seemed odd, so I burned a pinch. There’s plastic in it. Aaron, I asked Loren and he said your home doesn’t use plastic fiber in paper. So we looked closer, and Patryk found a definite difference – why he knew, I don’t know, but your version didn’t have a dedication page, and this does.”
“I saw it: ‘For Bronwynn, may Her Majesty rest in light eternal, and brother Bran, long may he reign’.” He shook his head. “Our Bronwynn was born a twin, but Bran was killed in a boating accident. He was awesome; the Empire loved him.” The pain of loss struck again, as it had with Rigel and the others, at least once they’d had time to slow down from just trying to survive. “Here he’s their King.” Aaron swallowed hard as he looked at Anaph. “How long... no, how far from our world is this?”
Ryan answered. “No way to tell. If Bran’s death or survival is the branch point, it’s right next door. If something else was, well, it’s in the neighborhood or we wouldn’t have gotten these books.”
“I think”, Vaidyanaath said slowly, “that we are more valuable to you than if we were from your own world. Our differences give us things to talk about, and see in new ways. We see possibilities you don’t, and you see ones we don’t. Now, seeing this difference.... But the vital item here is the plastic fiber in the paper: knowing that one who died as Prince in our world is now King in another because she who is our Queen died early, to us, is interesting, but knowing of plastic in paper may set us thinking of different solutions to problems we have not as yet faced.”
“Could be”, Ryan conceded. “But to me the great treasure is that we have three originals of one and four of the other. That base means we can make more copies directly, and that means fewer transmission errors.”
“Soon we won’t need copyists”, Aaron pointed out. “Five of my ‘Yankees’” – he’d given up and let the name bestowed because of a novel he looked forward to reading – “have taken over your printing Craft.” He almost glared at the book he held. “Curses! If we could have gotten Lord Templeton’s
Guide, we’d be so much closer to miniaturizing the type....” An “Aha!” moment struck. “Oh – we have to turn this into Lady Rita’s ‘common script’, don’t we? Oh, well”, he sighed, “We had British Common, with an alphabet that didn’t work well for everyone; at least she had the foresight to design an alphabet that covers all the sounds your varied languages have.”
“And room for more”, Anaph related. “She refused to say everything has to be spelled with just the letters she made.” He grinned. “That’s why she really deserves the title ‘Wise Woman’.”
“Britain’s pattern in my land”, Vaidyanaath commented. “Adopt native customs, and conquer through acceptance. Oh, there were armed conflicts, but the real conquest was in blending what was British with what was best of India. Here you have adopted valuable customs, and so make the people your own along with the customs.”
“Lord Rigel has aided everyone, not conquered us!” Konan protested, though with slight evident doubt.
Anaph sighed. He knew the truth of what Artur had seen, and the inevitability; since their king called Rigel “Ard Righ”, the rest would, in time – and he suspected their time was getting short – and it was time to check on that.
“Versorix, you mentioned Eraigh – is he here?”
Konan tried to jump up, but his muscles betrayed him; Ryan’s arm saved him. “I can bring him – he wants to see you, Drûdh-ri.”
Anaph’s laugh was cheering. “Only Druids should call me that, Konan. But yes, bring him.” He looked at the empty tea cups around him. “And another pot of tea, if possible.” Konan went; within a minute their Healer attendant arrived with more tea. She also paused and put her hand to each forehead, even Ryan’s, which brought a wry grin.
“You’re my ‘control’”, she informed him pertly. “The Healer spoke of it. We each know what health is, but it aids to have a reference where possible. And”, she added in a change of topic, “you have been eating too little fruit and only muscle meat. Change, or I shall inform Lumina. The rest of you are worn; you need rest and gentle exercise.” She turned wistful. “A sadness that the swimming pool is not finished.” Leaving a Ryan staring with his jaw down, she twirled and left.
Anaph had to laugh. “Right under your nose, and you didn’t know!”
Ryan shook his head. “I want to be in charge too much. This should make me happy – people are doing things on their own, but more, it means they’re finding resources on their own, which means less stress on mine. Though the Crafts are in charge of resources; that was easy to delegate.”
Eraigh’s first question was whether Anaph had heard Versorix’ explanation. Then came an apology. “Drûdh-ri, I saw what he was doing and helped. I had to even the energies, or – I thought we were going to lose one.” They all understood what he meant.
Anaph nodded understanding. “Better all of us knocked out and weak than our number reduced. It was the right choice, Hall-Druid.
“But a question: what did you notice of the Snatcher?”
Eraigh had to think, and they gave him time; this was plainly important to Anaph. Eraigh finally frowned. “Very little. Only at the end; it guided the... gathering of the material to form the books.”
Anaph nodded grimly. “I thought the same thing. Ryan, I have to tell Rigel. Konan, the Healers will object, but I have to go.”
Konan nodded; he wasn’t going to argue with the Chief Druid. “I can gather what we’ll need. Lumina K·nay’zee will require you take Healers.”
“Fine. But we need to go fast.” The Druid looked troubled. “This seems bad to me.”
Rigel looked out over the ramparts of a wing of the wall at Hills’ Edge, a barrier that blocked everything from the castle still under construction west to the first serious hill, where a tower rose that would dominate the area – it was tall enough that arrows from it would nearly reach the castle, though not with any accuracy. That would provide excellent support to the castle – and vice versa – with rifles, in case of attack. In recognition of the likely form of that attack, funnels were built into the wall at regular intervals, and cauldrons near most of them; there fat and oil already being collected and stored would be boiled, to flow down not so much on the attackers, but on the wall, to keep Others from getting a grip for climbing.
“You’re stalling”, Rita noted. “Why?”
“I decided I don’t want to be away for the weddings. We should all be there.”
She nodded; that had been her guess, so her answer was ready. “That doesn’t mean we have to sit here. There’s time to get from here to the lakes and back. You could use the trip to check on conditions for bringing a real expedition. Think, Rye – you want an impressive force to visit the British, and it wouldn’t hurt for the lords in the Constant Hills to see some serious strength. Besides, we need to take a caravan of trade goods – not just Deere’s plows, but little things that people make and can sell. And” – she paused, grinning until he started to look less serious – “did you forget Osvaldo’s Council delegation, who came to verify there aren’t any other Escobars?”
Rigel had in fact forgotten. He groaned. “Okay – we can’t go all the way to Osvaldo without them. But I like the idea of a trip along our supply chain – a group just big enough to be safe, small enough to be quick.” His sigh communicated satisfaction that he reached a resolution. “So, Wise Woman, how long does your plan allow to get ready?”
“Two days”, she answered. “I didn’t think you’d agree till tomorrow.”
Rigel laughed. “Wise, but not all-seeing. That’s good to know.”
“Why would I want to be all-seeing? Rigel, people do gross things I wouldn’t want to see!”
His immediate reaction was shock. Laughter quickly followed. “You really are wise!” he exclaimed. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.”
Anaph was bone-weary and drenched in sweat. Konan was in pain verging on agony, their Healers having fallen prey to weariness the evening before. Only Conal and Yenas, the Rider officers leading their small contingent as escort, seemed alert and sound – but then they rode, and rode, that being what it meant to be Riders.
It was cheating, but Anaph drew Life through his staff, feeding some to Konan as well. The boy was sensitive; he perked up and, still too weary to speak, nodded in thanks. The Druid could have drawn more, but the feeling tended to be addictive. Urien had gone that path, that among others, but Anaph would not. He let the feelings of guilt from essentially skimming admittedly minuscule but still very real bits of Life-energy from every creature in range – or rather almost any creature; he’d learned to exclude those nearby. Again the comparison to Urien came to mind; the boy didn’t care that he was stealing life from those around him, so – all at once Anaph felt a bit perky: was there a way to use that to trap Urien? That he thought in terms of trapping made him sad, but things were what they were, and it was either that or kill him, ultimately.
“A rider comes, lord Druid”, Yenas announced, pointing. Hating himself for the necessity, Anaph drew more Life from the surroundings, reaching farther. He sensed a deer in pain, a predator’s teeth tearing at its guts; that Life he took completely, as a mercy. On the ground a bird flopped, its wing broken, the carrion-eaters already moving in, and that Life, too, he took whole. Just by the ridge, a rabbit, foolish to be out in a day-lit meadow, raced in terror; he ended its suffering and saved it the next, because the raptor was only a second and a bit more away. He chuckled as the bird overshot its mark, the rabbit tumbling limply.
Enjoy the meal, brother hawk, he thought – if it was a hawk; he called all hunting birds here that. Maybe one day he’d study the differences.
Anaph didn’t wait to see if the rider brought a message. “Where’s Lord Rigel?” he asked, wanting to demand. “I need to see him.”
The rider, an Escobar by looks, blinked. “They left for the south...?”
“He’s Anaph-Drûdh”, Konan cut in. “When did they leave?”
“Yesterday, midmorning. Druid, lords, I’m to see what quarters you need.”
Anaph shook his head. “No quarters for me. Yenas and Conal, leave the wearier half of the men behind. Konan, you’re staying, and the Healers.” He looked at Aaron and Vaidyanaath; they both were in pain, learning about the long-distance rider’s close friend “Major Ass-burns”. “Come if you want.” Then, to all, “Two hours rest if you’re coming.”
“Lord Druid, you’re not going to change horses?” the stableboy asked.
“Druids aren’t lords”, Anaph corrected. “No, Gloaming stays with me. There are reasons.” Like the fact that I can link him to my staff and let him draw Life while I sleep.
The boy looked dubious. “If you say so. Oh!” he exclaimed, brightening. You do magic for him!”
The Druid chuckled. “There is no magic. But a Druid’s horse can run longer and farther than most.”
“Except Titanium”, was the rely, “he can run forever.” It was such a matter-of-fact assertion that Anaph left it alone.
Twenty had ridden in; nine rode out. Anaph didn’t argue, only commented. “You left more than half”, he observed to Conal.
“Any of the others would have been worthless in another day. I don’t command the elite. And Yenas was right – we had to leave an officer.”
Anaph decided it made sense, and merely nodded.
“Also”, Conal continued a minute later, “these five are a match for those seven. For effectiveness, they are half.”
Anaph chuckled. “If you’re confident, I’m confident.” He turned to the two “Yankees”. “Stubborn, or tough?”
Aaron grimaced; Vaidyanaath grinned. “You Druid colleague there at the castle sort of massaged our arses. I feel fine – save for a lingering ache, which he said only time would remedy.” He blew a kiss at his boyfriend, a feat beyond him only two days earlier – a fact, since he’d tried it, lost his balance, and fallen. “Dauntless leader here was resistant, the Druid said.”
“I don’t believe in magic”, Aaron growled.
Anaph sighed and slowed Gloaming. “I keep telling you, there’s no magic. It’s a skill, a talent – um, first a talent and then a skill. There are energies–“
“Which you manipulate with your mind, I know. And how does that work, if not magic? Does your brain make some messenger particle that interacts with these Life-energy particles? Then how do they get aimed? What moves them – if they move, either particles hit them or they emit particles. Then there–“
“Ask Ryan”, Anaph interrupted. “He’s working on a field theory for it. I just know he thinks a Druid’s mind maintains a field that can interact with the Life-energy particles. I don’t know anything about messenger particles; if they exist, I don’t see them. Maybe – I’ve thought about this – the first particles I grab with my field emit messenger particles to others, like a chain reaction. I do know that when I start, it takes energy I can feel to direct the energies, and it feels different after. It takes more energy to reach farther, but I don’t think it’s as much as it was area, but in lines.
“Anyway, Ryan thinks it’s enough to start with. I just know it isn’t magic. He can describe it if he wants, or you can; I just want to do it.”
Aaron looked thoughtful. “Okay, I can go with that. But it feels like magic to me. Hey – why would that make it harder for a Druid to... do things to me?”
That was a new one for Anaph. “I’ll guess: he has to make your Life-energies do something. But since they’re yours, he can’t just take control; you have to let him.”
Vaidyanaath laughed. “That works for a model”, he judged. “Turn it over to our physics engineers, and let them run math for it.” He eyed Aaron’s posterior. “Maybe then a Druid can work on your arse. Till then, it’s all mine.” Aaron wiggled the anatomy in question, and immediately regretted it. Anaph chuckled and rode on, picking the pace up again – though his thoughts kept going back to that read end, pondering a threesome.
Every hour, they walked eight minutes, a figure Conal insisted on but for which he had no explanation. It worked, though, just enough to relax muscles weary from riding, short enough that getting back into the saddle came readily. Ground passed under feet and hooves, the sun passed overhead. For the first day, they had the tracks of Rigel’s party to follow; fresh snow ended that the next morning. Conal sent out scouts to look for any traces. For a day there was nothing; then they found a camp.
“They’re still half a day ahead”, the Rider decided, “two days till we catch them”. Conal nodded agreement.
“So on we go”, Anaph said, almost humming it... a song there, just over the edge of his memory. It came to him some eighty minutes later: He Ain’t Heavy. With the name came the rest of the tune, and though he didn’t know any words beyond “So on we go / his welfare is my concern / something, something, something / he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother”, for some reason it lightened his day – or his load, he thought, as another song popped into his head. “Except it isn’t the end of the day, and we aren’t going home”, he said out loud, then sang anyway:
“Sing your way home, at the end of the day,
Sing your way home, drive the shadows away!
Smile every mile, and wherever you roam
it will lighten your load, it will brighten your road,
if you sing your way home!”
By the end, the two Yankees were singing along, Vaidyanaath with tears openly running down his cheeks.
Late afternoon on their fourth day, Conal’s scout came riding back from his far-lead position fast. Earlier an odd spot on the horizon, after an hour’s examination, had been determined to be a large construction site, and they’d headed for it. “Column ahead”, the Rider related. “Banner looks like Lord Rigel’s. They’re headed for the... fortress.” It was as good a word as any, Anaph agreed silently.
“One of Rigel’s allies?” Aaron inquired.
That clicked. “Ally, maybe vassal. It’s a serious trip from here to the Constant Hills. Rigel wants castles strung between, a day apart.” He tried to remember his geography as Rigel and Rita had reported it. “We’re in the right place for the turn to go south to the lake, where the Escobars are building a town. If that’s one of the castles, they’ll be a day apart the rest of the way.”
“How long till we catch them?” asked Conal, all business.
“About two hours after they reach the fortress”, the scout answered, using the word with more confidence since it had been accepted. “They’re not moving as fast as they were.”
Conal looked to Anaph; the Druid knew what the officer wanted. “We’d be getting there after sunset”, he mused. “Not something I like. Conal, how much of an effort to make it a half hour earlier?”
“Not enough we can’t do it. But we could make it three-quarters of an hour.” It was a recommendation, plain enough.
“Let’s do that”, Anaph ordered. “If anyone needs any aid....” He tapped his staff as an explanation.
Dusk was coming on, though that wasn’t a problem because the snow clouds which had been dogging them were scattered, when the next scout had a report. “Riders from the castle. Banners like the Escobars use.”
“Welcoming party”, Conal observed. “Wonder if they’ll welcome us?” he mused with a grin.
They got more than expected. Anaph ordered more speed, then the joining of Rigel’s party with the welcoming delegation slowed his quarry. They were less than an hour behind when a group rode down the great stone ramp to meet them.
Austin, letting Titanium pick the pace, reached them first. “You look yummy”, he said to Vaidyanaath, “and you look tasty”, to Aaron. He grinned, to Anaph a different grin than before. The Druid had never really thought about it, but even at its best, Austin’s grin had held a haunted element. Anaph grinned back.
Rigel rode side by side with a middle-aged man definitely of Spanish descent. “Chief Druid, this is Señor Luiz Samuel” – he said it in Spanish fashion, “sam-WELL” – Ortiz-Escobar. Fourth cousin three times removed”, he explained in response to Anaph’s raised eyebrows. “He gets the ‘Escobar’ name because he’s in an all-male line of descent.”
“Well met”, Anaph responded. “Many would be seeking privilege from the connection.”
Luiz shrugged, then spat in the snow. “The Lord Escobar earned his way in the world. Such is the path of any true Escobar.” Then he smiled wryly. “Even so, I have this chance to earn my way because of the name: the Heir and the Regent wished an Escobar to ‘anchor the chain’. So from a small House of no note, I lead now a House of near two thousand, and have all the lands I can see.” The last was accompanied by a languidly waved arm, a skeptical grin, and rolled eyes.
“It’s not much yet”, Rigel responded. “But in time – Anaph, can you move some rock?”
The Druid understood what Rigel wanted: a repeat of what he’d done to bring the hot springs into the cavern. “Here?” Rigel nodded. Anaph sighed. “Show me. I have to study the rock. Last time there was a passage to work with.”
Rigel nodded. “There’s a spring. It’ll support fifty, with horses. Lord Ortiz-Escobar already has eight times that here, and more on the way. They’ve been ‘mining’ what snowdrifts there’ve been, and bringing in barrels, but–“
“But if this is to anchor the chain, he needs water for two-and-a-half thousand. I’ll look at it. Wait a minute – have you tried a well?”
“Almost five meters deep, and the flow unchanged”, the Escobar lord answered. “One burst came, but it was nothing – a crack full of water.”
“In the morning”, Anaph said firmly, settling the matter. “Rigel–“
“Yeah, you came for something important – I guessed that. And?”
“Something’s wrong with the Snatcher.”
Rigel blinked and stared, stared and opened his mouth, then shut it. Finally he chose words. “Once that would have made us all happy – remember?” he asked slowly. “Now... it’s been helpful, sometimes, but still interfering. So – why do I care?”
Anaph stared at the castle under construction ahead. “How ‘bout we ride? Conal, ride wide.” Rigel took the hint and ordered his four to do the same; the Escobar escort took the other side.
“The Yankee batch of Snatched came through... incomplete. That tells me its energy reserves are gone or its primary source screwed up – it didn’t have enough energy to get it all right. But after you left, I got the Druids together and we grabbed some books the Yankees wanted. When we did, Eraigh and I both noticed the Snatcher was only there guiding the formation at this end – the delivery. Eraigh thought it seemed weak, and I agreed.
“If it just had main energy trouble, why didn’t it recharge after the Yankees? If it was just storage trouble, why couldn’t it help more? I think it’s got trouble with both.”
Rigel went over the points silently. “Okay, makes sense – what’s Ryan say?”
Anaph grinned. “I just told you.” They shared a chuckle.
“Fine – so why shouldn’t it make me happy? Did you and Ryan decide that?”
Anaph almost looked like he was reciting. “The Snatcher has been helping. It isn’t trying to twist us or jerk us onto its path any more. It wants us to succeed. So whatever it needs from us, what we’re doing will get us there or help.”
“And why would it spend enough energy to bring us all here”, Aaron cut in on the silence, “maybe hurting itself, if there wasn’t something bloody important that needs done? Why keep Snatching people over the years – centuries – if it wasn’t important? It needs something badly, and you”, he said with emphasis, pointing at Rigel, “are its best chance at a solution.”
“We weren’t brought here for ourselves”, Vaidyanaath asserted, “we were brought here for you. I know about all the wishing, for helpers for Ryan and Devon and the rest of you, for companions so Austin could feel whole” – Austin opened his mouth at that, but the Indian Yankee plowed on – “and then we showed up. Austin, you didn’t ask, did you? You just endured, which is superb, just brilliant, but your friends asked for you. And here we are. We’re not going to jump in and out of bed every time you get randy, but you’ve already got friends who are trying to understand what your world was like for you.” He grinned. “I even have three volunteers trying to work out if there’s a way back and we can do for your father.”
Austin looked surprised, then something very much like proud. “Easy”, he claimed. “Just find him, and Anaph and the Snatcher can do the rest.”
Storms sprang up on Anaph’s face, but Rigel waved him to silence. “You’re proposing Snatching his pattern, then just... letting go.” He didn’t need to ask; he’d thought of the same thing himself once when Austin had been clutching him while sobbing into a crumpled blanket.
Austin nodded. “Save them from him”, he said, but it was more viciousness more than concern.
“Because he’s not fit for life?” Aaron bit each word off sharply. “He said that of you, and so you say it of him?”
Anaph’s anger mostly past, he spoke up. “Austin at least has a good reason. Or shouldn’t evil men be judged for their evil?”
Vaidyanaath lifted a hand for attention. “Anaph-druid, can you take only part of a man’s pattern?”
The question got everyone’s interest and attention. Anaph balanced his staff on his right hand while he thought. Half a minute passed. “Yes, but... but how do you mean?”
“An arm. A leg. A hand.” Vaidyanaath grinned. “Or a tongue.”
Rigel stated for a couple of seconds, then burst into laughter. “Oh, justice, yes! He does his evil with his tongue – take it away!”
Austin was grinning. “He signs his stupid laws with his right hand – take it away!”
Aaron looked speculative. “It’s better than murder. But I give you a bet: For a man who hates because of sex, sex is seriously important. It is a measure of his manhood. If Anaph-Druid can send a pattern, even just a memo, and tell him since he hated one son, he is unfit for any more, and then” – he looked delighted suddenly – “Anaph, could you just make his prong disappear – not stop working, not fall off, but disappear?”
“Oh – my – freaking – God!” Rigel swore. “What a message! ‘You have been measured, and found wanting’”, he intoned, sounding very much like the squire in the movie A Knight’s Tale, “and then suddenly he’s got no dick!” His expression turned speculative. “Aaron, tell your wizards to think of a way to spread that message and let others know. I’ve heard of justice.... wow”, he concluded, shaking his head.
Anaph offered perspective. “I don’t think we could do any of it without the Snatcher”, he stated. “So first we have to accomplish what we want here, do what the Snatcher wants, fix its energy problem, and–“
“Do it all to fit in a one-hour broadcast slot”, Aaron joked. “Or can we make it a series?”
“Definitely a series”, Rigel pleaded. “I’m getting too old for one-episode episodes.” Laughing, they called in the escort riders, and passed between structural columns destined to be a gate.
“Conal, you have the dispatches”, Anaph said, running down his mental checklist. “Our pair of Healers are staying here”, he went on, wondering at the bond between the two, who weren’t even related, nor as far as he could tell gay, though they shared a serious physical intimacy; whatever it was, each was more than twice as useful than alone. “Rigel, Rita, Austin, Aaron, and I ride south.” His omission had the desired effect; Vaidyanaath was pulling in breath for a protest. “Vaidyanaath comes with us, to keep Aaron happy and Austin out of his bed–“
“But you can join us”, Vaidyanaath retorted, teasingly.
“Score, Anaph”, Rigel commented.
“– because we’ve agreed it would be nice to have a Branch office”, the Indian concluded, tongue out between lips, mischief in his eyes.
“Checkmate, O Druid!” Rita declared softly. “Vaidyanaath, you know Hebrew?”
“No, but I know someone who does”, he replied, still looking at Anaph.
Anaph looked at Austin, afraid to upset his friend. “Lucky bugger”, Austin said. “Go for it – but when I turn eighteen, I’m not sharing Rigel and Ryan!” Rigel and Rita had to muffle their laughter.
“By invitation only”, Anaph muttered. “Not that I haven’t wished....” He thought briefly, wondering that since Austin had been split off by Rigel’s Rule, he hadn’t really been attracted to anyone. There had been a few of his young warriors during the trek to gather support for a king, and a few more maidens, all discreet, mostly unknown to anyone but his escort back then, but no one he really wanted. His looks at the Yankee pair had been more appreciative and speculative, but now his body seemed to be coming on fire – crotch, thighs, abs, even his armpits were tingling in anticipation and desire.
“Well”, he said at last.. “The Snatcher has its troubles, and we have to leave it on its own for now. But I suppose I at least won’t be sleeping alone tonight.”
Aaron looked at his boyfriend and snickered. “He thinks he’ll be
sleeping”, he passed in a stage whisper.
](/images/smilies/bang.gif "Brick wall ](*,)")
