They struggled on for day after day,
watching the milestones slowly click by. It was uphill all the way and they all
found it trying, but especially Viola, who lagged behind constantly. This began
to made her feel more and more of a burden to the others. She kept thinking to
herself, if you want to lead them then
you should do it properly
The path was not only
steeply uphill but also boring – the pattern of oak and holly woodland was
repeated endlessly, like a child’s potato print. They began to crave a flat
path or an open sky.
On the tenth day They passed the place where the road diverged
north and west, there was a clear split by one of the milestone but no-one even
suggested that they looked for the western path. They just plodded on up
northwards towards the Tumbrel Massif above them. Hardacre and Viola spent a lot of time
discussing the nagas, primes and Macrocephalos, but they didn’t make a lot of
progress – there were still so many unanswered questions. They agreed, however, that whatever they
found out in Klethropolis would be shared between the Hybitor and Marthian –
there was no mention of the Emperor.
As they laboured
their way uphill the canopy became more and more open, and perhaps because of
this they were able to see the milestones more clearly. The oaks were now
interspersed with other smaller trees, in places hazels and birches, but also brownish-black
barked slender trees with exceptionally tiny leaves. Hardacre didn’t recognise
them at all, and he found this disconcerting – he prided himself on knowing all
of the woody plants that grew in the temperate part of the western continent. As a younger man, when he had had more time to
consider such things, he had voraciously consumed floral guides and
conspectuses, in the hope of finding suitable new plants that might be coaxed
into his master’s garden.
He requested that
they might camp among a cluster of the unusual trees that night and before the
light failed he made copious notes on the unknown plant and took cuttings and
specimens of the bark and fruits. He also had a long discussion with the
parrots, but they had never been anywhere near that area before. They were, however, excited by the prospect
of trying the fruits when they reached maturity, later in the season.
Within an hour of setting out the next
morning, the landscape began to flatten off. Now the vegetation was even
stranger – Hardacre began to count plants that were new to him, there were ten
in two hours and then he stopped counting: this was an entirely different
habitat from any that he’d been in before. He wondered what habitats there were
in Helios, and regretted that the last thing that John would have thought about
when he had been trapped there would have been phytosociology. It seemed very likely to him, however, that
these were plants that the architects had brought with them, and that they had
decided, for whatever reason, not to plant them anywhere else.
The way seemed much clearer
now. Here at the top of the slope there was finally a hint of where the road
might have once have been; just the faintest suggestion of the outlines of the
edges of a wide track way. Everyone was
pleased to see a clear way forward, but Hardacre was concerned. He stopped and got down on to his hands and
knees. He felt the ground where the road seemed to begin and then murmured some
spells. He looked up at the others, who
had begun to gather round him
‘Something isn’t
quite right’
He got up from the
worn road and brushed off the accumulated dust. His voice was uncertain.
‘The road doesn’t
want us here’
Viola, who had been wandering just a little
way ahead of them quite happily, looked surprised and, perhaps, slightly miffed.
‘I don’t feel that at
all…’
Hardacre came up
beside her. Their faces were a study in concentration. Logic and instinct
collided.
‘There is a strong misdirection
spell here, major, a mage enchantment – it’s very powerful. But you obviously
do not feel it…’
‘No I don’t’ she
shook her head.
‘I think it would be
inadvisable to follow the path as it appears…’ he cautioned.
Viola was deeply
unconvinced. But as far as Hardacre was
concerned she was now walking in the wrong direction, anyway. She was not on
the path that he saw at all. But maybe
she knew something that he didn’t.
‘To me the way seems
very clear’ she said, ‘I can smell it’
‘Smell it? Really?’
muttered Kath
‘Yes… really…’
By now everyone had
stopped and they were all sniffing the air, with varying amounts of conviction.
‘I really don’t think
there is anything to smell’ murmured Hardacre, in a tone that gently hinted
that they might be wasting their time. Doubts were crowding into his mind,
however.
Potentilla, always
keen to take a direct approach, dropped to the ground and did a passable
impression of a hound trying pick up a rabbit’s spoor. Simultaneously Dom made
a small, startled noise, but then strangled it. No-one paid him much attention;
they were all distracted by Potentilla’s pantomime dog act.
Hardacre tried to
ignore the lieutenant and concentrate his attention on Viola. He knew well, and
from bitter experience, that it was never sensible to doubt her intuitions.
‘Dr Fielding’ he said, gesturing to Kath, ‘I
wonder if you’d help us in a little test’
Kath shrugged and
walked towards them. Hardacre took this as an agreement.
‘I want you to
blindfold Major Viola’
Viola frowned,
‘whatever for?’ she asked
‘Please bear with me,
madam’
Dom searched inside his
bag and pulled a strip of cloth. He handed it to Kath, feeling a little like a
stage magician’s assistant. Kath wrapped
the strip around Viola’s head.
‘What’s going on?’
asked Dom.
‘Wait a moment, Mr
Shavosky’ said Hardacre. He put a finger up to his lips.
He walked to where he
believed that the track was most obvious. He turned and opened his hands and
nodded questioningly seeking silent support. Kath, Potentilla and the parrots
nodded enthusiastically. For a moment Hardacre thought Potentilla might be
about to clap, but a glance stopped her dead. He walked further down where he
imagined the path continued, looking back every now and then to check that they
agreed. Only Dom looked uncertain, but four out of five seemed good enough.
He returned to the
group. He removed the blindfold from Viola, who still had very little idea what
was going on.
‘Would you be so kind
as to show us the path, please, major’
Viola was puzzled,
but she also felt a tight knot of concern balling up in the centre of her stomach.
No, not another test? She really
didn’t relish it. She took a deep breath and walked down the faintly, but as far
as she was concerned clearly defined track.
She had walked about
fifty yards when she heard a collective murmur behind her. She turned.
‘Where are you going?’
asked Kath, her face screwed up with puzzlement. Viola’s heart sank. She now
knew exactly what was going on.
‘Where do you think
I’m going?’ she barked, ripping off the blindfold, ‘down the stupid enchanted
road that none of the rest of you can even see!’
Hardacre beckoned for
her to come back. There was a buzz of surprise, mixed with relief, throughout
the party. Kath was delighted.
‘This is doubly good’
she said, ‘first, it looks like your Quiena senses are coming up trumps again,
and, second – no-one will be able to follow us unless they can overcome the
enchantment’
‘And it’s a very
strong enchantment’ chipped in Hardacre, ‘it will take a long time to counter,
if it can be countered at all’
Viola looked
unconvinced, but she knew that what they were saying was true; but it really
didn’t explain why this had happened again.
She picked up her pack and forged on – knowing that she had no other
choice
Dom was the last to
gather up his stuff and follow her. In all the commotion, no one had thought to
ask him directly what he thought about the route, and he was very glad of it.
He would have also known the way, he wasn’t really sure why, but he could think
of one possible reason. But if he was right –and the idea was almost too
strange to countenance – was Viola like him? What could they have in common? Was
she a mule too?
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