Threshold

41

IT was dark by the time all the men and women had been taken to quarters within the Abyss, and I thought they would need tender care over the next months if they were to resume full and contented lives.

Just as we approached the stairwell and Boaz laid his hand on the door, there came an urgent shout from behind us.

One of the sentries hurried up to us. “Three men,” he gasped.

“Stone-men?” Zabrze asked.

“No, Mighty One. Men as you or I, but I do not know them.”

“Where?”

“They are not far behind me, Mighty One.”

“You go ahead,” Zabrze said to us, but we all shook our heads. Strange men meant news.

The three men, escorted by several more sentries and four men from the unit Zabrze had stationed to watch over the lower hills, arrived and bowed low to him.

All three were travel-stained and weary; two of them wore insignia on their armbands that I had not seen previously.

“Ataphet,” Zabrze said to one man. “What news?”

“Mighty One,” Ataphet said. “I was the only one of my group to get through. I delivered my message, and –”

“And?” Zabrze had moved forward a step. “And?”

“And,” one of the other two men said, “we come as personal emissaries from Prince Iraldur.” He introduced himself and his companion, but their names flew over my head. Iraldur of Darsis!

“And?” I think Zabrze barely restrained himself from clutching at the man’s tunic.

“My Prince sends personal messages of goodwill and friendship to you and your esteemed wife…”

I glanced at Isphet. Zabrze’s esteemed wife was not the same one Iraldur had once known.

“…and,” the man hurried on as Zabrze gestured in irritation, “my Prince asks me to inform you that he, too, has argument with this Threshold and its appetite –”

“Why?”

“Mighty One, our western borderlands have been raided over past months by men of rock that neither swords nor pikes can halt. Scores of men and women have been marched into land that has been turned to stone itself.”

“Oh, dear gods,” Zabrze murmured, and passed a hand over his eyes. “I was afraid of this.”

“Mighty One, my Prince begs me to inform you that he will support you in whatever way you deem necessary to halt this abomination, but that he knows not what to do. He waits just inside Darsis’ border with Ashdod, an army at his back, and he waits for word from you.”

“I thank you, my good man. This is news I have long waited to hear.”

“Mighty One,” the man stepped forward, his face anxious. “My companions and I have journeyed long and hard to reach you here. Three nights ago we were woken by a great trampling of feet, and a moaning that tore into our souls.”

My heart pounded, and Boaz clutched at my hand.

“Mighty One, to the north-east of here marches a great army composed of walking rocks.”

“It marches south…south to us?”

“No, Mighty One. It marches north-east. North to meet Iraldur of Darsis.”

His moaning woke me, and it terrified me, for it was the moaning of the stone-men.

“Boaz!” I grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “Boaz!”

He jerked into wakefulness, his eyes wide and terrified. “Tirzah.”

“Of what did you dream, Boaz, to make such moan?”

“Nothing, Tirzah. It was nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“No, I will not believe that. I know you too well now not to spot a deception. Boaz, you moaned as if you were a stone-man yourself.”

He was silent, and then decided to tell me the truth. “I dreamed of Nzame. It was almost as if he were here with me…whispering into my ear…laughing at me.”

“And of what did he speak?”

“Tirzah –”

“No, tell me.”

He sighed. “He told me to take you and flee to Viland. He said that his appetite would never stretch that far. He said our cause was hopeless.”

Boaz rolled over to face me. “Tirzah, perhaps he made some sense. Perhaps if you did return to –”

“No! I am needed here. Ten thousand stone-men wait to be transformed, and as yet only you, I and Isphet can help.”

The Graces had done their best, and their best was very good, but Yaqob would remain abed for weeks if not months, and even then would walk poorly for the rest of his life. I had wondered, drifting into sleep earlier, if his injuries were not entirely accidental, and if the Soulenai had decided it were better if one of us, at least, remained in the relative safety of the Abyss.

“No,” I said more softly. “I must come with you.”

Zabrze had given his soldiers a day in which to prepare, and then we would begin our march north. The stone-men shuffled but slowly, and if we pushed the pace we should be able to reach Iraldur before them.

Nevertheless, Zabrze had sent runners north this very night, not only sending word of our own imminent arrival, but advice on how these stone-men could be combated.

I stroked Boaz’s arm. “You talked with Nzame through Kofte, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “There was nothing of Kofte left, save that dreadful nose. I touched briefly with Nzame. I wanted to know…I needed…”

“To know what you can do to defeat him, Boaz?” My voice was hard-edged. “And did you find out?”

“I found out what I needed, Tirzah. I will not risk that again. Not if I find a hundred of those black, glassy men before me.”

“Boaz, can you defeat Nzame?”

He laughed, and gathered me into his arms so that I could not see his face. “Of course I can, beloved. I have no wish to leave you.”

But his laughter was forced, and his body tense, and I did not believe him.

Neither of us slept again that night.

“Yaqob? Are you awake?”

“Yes, Tirzah. Come in. You must be almost ready to go.”

“Yesterday Zabrze was shouting at everyone. Today he is silent and tense. We leave in an hour.”

I sat down by Yaqob’s bed. The sword lay close to him, and I thought he would have need of it for weeks to come. His legs were now splinted and covered with bandages, but I would never forget their terrible aspect as the stone-man was rolled away.

His colour was good, and I’d heard that he had eaten well over the past day.

“I wish I was coming with you, Tirzah.”

“I am glad you are not, Yaqob.”

We were silent, looking at each other, thinking of the love we’d shared, and of all the things that could have been and yet never would be.

“And those that were stone? I have heard so little of them.”

“They recover, but they will need a great deal of time to recover completely. They sit and think for hours on end with slight frowns on their faces, as if there is something they should remember, but cannot.”

“They do not recall their time as stone?”

“Only in dreams. I think Nzame sometimes still calls to them in their dreams.”

He sighed and looked at the ceiling. “My legs itch damnably, Tirzah.”

“Then they are healing. Should I ask the sword…?”

“No. No, you have done enough – and for that I thank you.”

We sat in silence for some minutes. Eventually I stirred. “Was that Kiath I spotted leaving as I approached, Yaqob?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

“She would be good for you.”

“Don’t you dare dictate to me, Tirzah! Not after what you have done! Kiath shall not provide a salve for your conscience.”

I hung my head and studied my hands. There was nothing I could say to that.

“Be careful, Tirzah. And come back and see me one day.”

I blinked back my tears. I leaned forward to kiss him, then thought better of it. He held out a hand, and I took it.

“Thus we began, thus we end,” he said softly.

I smiled for him now as I had then, but the tears ruined my face, and I snatched my hand from his and fled.

“How was he?” Boaz asked. “He seemed well enough when I said my farewells to him earlier.”

Ah, I thought, but he cannot score your heart with such guilt as he can mine. “He recovers well. We shall not have to fear for him.”

Boaz looked at me, then brushed a betraying tear from my cheek. “He has had his adventure, Tirzah. We still have a way to go.”

“Yes. Are we packed?”

I looked at the packs awaiting us on the bed. We would travel light, for we still had the camels and mules who had given us such good service from the Lhyl across the Lagamaal. They had fed and watered to excess during their leisurely months in the fields above the Abyss, and it would do them good to work off some of their fat in the journey north.

“Are you sure you want to take the goblet and book, Tirzah?”

I had insisted that Holdat pack them. Would I come back? I didn’t know. Even in happy times, the Abyss was a long way from anywhere else. So the goblet and book travelled with me.

“Yes. I am sure.”

“Listen…Zabrze has caused the trumpets to sound. Come on, Tirzah, there are still a few farewells yet to be said.”

We shouldered our packs and walked out into the hallway. There was Isphet, her arms wrapped about her father. It must be doubly hard on Eldonor to lose her so soon after having found her.

We touched his shoulder briefly in farewell, but he only nodded and turned back to his daughter, and we left them in peace, climbing through the stairwell to the top of the cliffs.

Everyone else who was to accompany Zabrze was already above, waiting either here or further down the gorge. There were the imperial soldiers who’d backed Zabrze in his fight against Threshold – some five hundred and forty – and another thousand composed of men from Gesholme and the Abyss. Among that thousand were not only those who could fight, but many of those strongest in the Elemental arts, such as Zeldon and Orteas. They may not be able to wield the same power as Boaz, Isphet or myself, but they would still be useful, and they were friends, and I was glad they would come with us.

We heard the distant braying of a mule; they and the camels were waiting for us further into the hills, carrying not only supplies but all the rope the Abyss could provide.

The Graces were there, Solvadale at their head, and they embraced Boaz and myself, then Isphet as she emerged from the stairwell. There were no words said.

Kiath was there also, holding Zhabroah, now a chortling happy boy some months old. Zabrze would not risk him on this mission. He could well be his only surviving child, and it would be pointless stupidity for Zabrze to insist that his son come with him. But Zabrze was a doting father, and he smiled and pinched the boy’s cheek, and charged Kiath with his care.

Zabrze turned and stood at the lip of the canyon. I held my breath, thinking it an unnecessary bravery, but the crowds lining the balconies of the Steps loved it, and I heard a great roar as Zabrze waved them farewell.

The Abyss may never have been an integral part of Ashdod before, but if Zabrze should win, then I thought it would not remain so isolated in the future.

Far below the frogs sang, even though it was well after dawn.

“Fetizza?” I asked Boaz.

“I do not know,” he said. “I looked for her this morning, but could not find her. She will choose her own way, Tirzah.”

“Yes.” I was overcome with the sadness of loss again, and was glad when Zabrze gave the command to move off.

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