Quest for Knowledge (Volume 1 of the FirstWorld Saga) - Christopher Jackson-Ash (black female authors .txt) 📗
- Author: Christopher Jackson-Ash
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Ju winced as the baby kicked. She hoped that her father didn’t misinterpret the action. She was torn between her duties. The duty to her husband to keep secret the special things they had spoken about; the duty to her father to show him due respect; and the duty to her chief to honour and obey him. She made her decision and the baby kicked her twice as hard. “I don’t completely understand him. He uses words in his own language that I don’t understand when our words cannot explain something. At night, he often cries out in his sleep and I do not always understand him. He often repeats one word, which seems to be a name. I hear it because it is so like mine. He calls for Juliana.” She paused, expecting a response from her father but got none.
“I only know that he is special to me. I cannot describe how he makes me feel. I have never felt so alive. It’s like my whole body is on fire but in a good way. He uses a word that I don’t understand but says we are soulmates.” She groaned as a sharp pain shot through her body and the baby kicked her again.
“Your time is close,” her father said. “It may surprise you but your mother and I felt like that at one time. I hope that she’s waiting for me on the other side and we’ll feel like it again. You didn’t invent it. Is the baby his?”
“What we have is different. I have talked to my friends about it. Even those who are just joined. What we have goes much further than they feel. The baby isn’t his but he will be a true father. Does that not say much about him?”
Her father only grunted. She knew that he was punishing himself for letting two different men take her.
She decided to tell him her biggest secrets. “The one who came first,” she swallowed hard, “The one who came first took me by force. He made me bleed and he hurt me.” She had to bite her tongue to stop herself screaming as another sharp pain threatened to tear her apart. She imagined it must be like being speared. “Simon was not like that. Even though you had decreed that we were joined and he was the same man. Even though the druid had told me what must be. Even though I was heavy with child. I encouraged him. He was gentle. He would never hurt me.”
Yo stared at his only child, shook his head and eventually spoke so quietly that Ju struggled to make out the words. “You would have had a brother had not Death taken him and your mother on the birthing stone. He would be a proud man now with children of his own. The tribe would have a new leader and I would meet Death with contentment. Now everyone jostles for position and I fear for the tribe’s stability when I’m gone. Chaos is waiting in the shadows by the fire. Some talk of Simon as the next leader. Where did he come from? How can we be sure he won’t go back and disappear like the first one?”
Ju thought about the long nights they had lain in each other’s arms planning the future. Occasionally, she could get him to drop his guard and talk about his past. “All I know is that he is running away from something terrible. He is afraid of what he might turn into if he were to return. He is a good man but he fears turning into an evil one. He has found peace here and has great plans to improve our lives. Please don’t think that I have been possessed. Please don’t have me stoned. I believe he comes from the future.”
Yo was about to respond to his daughter’s latest revelation when Ju screamed and pulled herself upright. As the contraction subsided she felt a pop and warm liquid like water ran down her legs and pooled on the cave floor.
“Wa!” Yo shouted, struggling to his feet. “Get in here!” The old medicine woman calmly walked in followed by a group of three other women. “It’s time. I’m going to see my child’s child.”
Second Delve
Everlasting Heroes must be like Melbourne trams or London buses. Manfred was still trying to come to terms with Ubadah’s story. I have been searching half my life for a Hero and then two turn up at the same time. Not only that, one of them was practically under my nose the whole time. I really must be going senile. They had been in Tamarlan for two days now and he had had the time to recuperate a little from the rigours of the journey, enjoy some reasonable food for a change, and savour a few pints of foaming ale. Beer was Manfred’s last remaining vice and he was determined never to miss an opportunity to indulge. He had taken the time, though, to talk in detail with Ubadah and had tried to understand both Ubadah’s and Dammar’s motivations. So far, he had drawn a blank. At least Gamyon seemed to have come to terms with Ubadah’s arrival and seemed relieved now that he knew that his regency was safe. That hadn’t stopped him taking Manfred aside for a quiet word, ‘just to make sure you take him away from here with you when you leave’. Manfred had to smile. Always the pragmatist, he thought. He had taken breakfast with Gamying and Aglaral. They were both eager to find out what Manfred’s plans were and to meet Ubadah. They also reminded Manfred of a thorny little problem he had been putting off: Kris. Now, as he sat puffing on his old briar pipe; ok so he still had other vices too; he was pondering on the problem. Kris seemed to be an enigma. Something inside him told Manfred that he needed to solve the puzzle. I hate it when my gut tells me something that my head can’t understand.
Oh well, it can wait no longer. Manfred emptied his pipe into an ashtray, carefully returned it to one of his many pockets, and rose to seek out Master Kris, erstwhile Bard of Karo. He found him sitting quietly in his room, a guard on the door. The guard let him in without question. Kris smiled at seeing him. That’s unnerving; he must be getting pretty bored and lonely here by himself.
“Kris, we need to talk,” Manfred began.
“It’s OK, Manfred; I have been doing a lot of thinking these past couple of days. I don’t want to go through your mind probe. I would like to tell you everything. I hope that at the end of it, you’ll understand and let me continue with you on your journey.”
“Well, that will depend on what you have to tell me. It won’t be just my decision either. Just take your time and start at the beginning.” Manfred sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Kris as he told his story. Manfred had always thought that he was a good judge of character and he was certain that Kris told him the truth.
“I’m not really a bard, although I seem to have some natural talent for the profession. I am from Karo and I have made the journeys that I told you about, but I was a ship’s cook. We were sailing on the Middle Sea, heading into Dar-el-Beida to find a cargo to bring back to Karo when we were attacked by pirates. Most of the crew were killed. Some of us, the least likely to cause trouble, were kept to be slaves. I continued to work as a cook, but instead of being paid, I would get a beating if the crew didn’t like the food I prepared. I tried to find a way of escaping, but we were watched too closely. We sailed west, further than I had ever been before. I don’t know how far we travelled, but eventually the Middle Sea ended in a narrow strait. We sailed through into a large sea or ocean and turned south. We hugged the coast and sailed for several days before we put into a port town, which I learned was the pirates’ home base. The town was called Cap Ghir and it was linked to an inland city located in a mountain valley, called Taruwdant. Cap Ghir is the hub of a pirate organisation; masterminded from Taruwdant by a man they call the Wolf. He is said to command an army of undead and often takes the form of a wolf and kills prisoners by ripping out their throats. I saw him only once, from a distance, and he reduced me to a quivering jelly of terror. I don’t suppose you find that surprising, since I’m such a coward. I was taken to Taruwdant and put to work in the kitchens. I kept my head down and worked hard. I knew that there was no chance of escape and resigned myself to a lifetime of slavery. I don’t know why, perhaps it was my work ethic or the desire to stay out of trouble, but I was selected for special attention. I was interviewed by a series of people, culminating in a meeting with one of the Wolf’s lieutenants. I now know that he was a wizard. He looked very much like you do, except that his hair was very curly. He said that I had been selected for a special mission, which would earn me my freedom, if I did well. If I failed, I would be tracked down and used as wolf meat. By the time my throat was torn out, I would be begging for death, he told me. He forced his way into my mind. He raped me mentally. I could not keep him out. It was terrible; he knew all of my secrets and fears. He placed images in my mind of what would happen to me if I disobeyed. He gave me a new history, as a bard. He told me I had to travel to Elannort for an important meeting of the Wise. I was to ingratiate myself with you and try to join any expedition that was mounted. I was to learn as much as I could about a powerful sword and the hero who would wield it. I was to pay particular attention to a red-haired boy. I feared for my life, for my very soul. I’m sorry, Manfred. I was too weak to resist his evil.”
Manfred sighed and looked at the pathetic, cowering man in front of him. “I’m sorry, too, Kris. I should not have threatened you with a mind probe. I can help you to heal and to forget. If you will let me into your mind, willingly, I will try to soothe the hurt.”
Kris hesitated and looked concerned but he finally agreed. Manfred laid his hands on the bard’s head and concentrated. He looked into the frightened man’s soul. He had been telling the truth. Frisa the Curly-Haired had planted many evil neural links. It was a wonder that
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