The Fenimeldiyaan: Displaced Time - Chapter 7

Apollo drifted in and out of sleep, hearing whispered voices speaking in Varagan while Jezebel’s conjured illness spread throughout his body.  He had no idea of the passage of time, nor did he care.  He had hoped that he would die an old man, surrounded by people who loved him.  However, it seemed that he was fated to perish in the home of a stranger, with only two guards as witnesses.

Sometime later, he heard an animated conversation.  He recognised one of the speakers to be Lord Vedat, but the other was unknown to him.

Lord Vedat leaned down and patted Apollo on the shoulder.  “Apollo, please wake up.  The feeder priest be here to conduct yer banishing ceremony”.

“Uh, what?”  Apollo struggled to open his eyes, noticing the giant who stood beside the Varagan Lord.  The newcomer made Lord Vedat seem small in comparison.  He was naked except for a black leather band around his neck.  He had many more facial piercings than Lord Vedat, as well as plenty of tribal tattoos adorning his vast body.

“I be Fhadre Ozgur and I be here to cure ye of the curse”.  He projected telepathically to get around the language barrier.  “First ye need to eat to get yer strength up for the ritual”.

Apollo let out a faint rasping chuckle, finding it amusing that the man had been described as a feeder priest.

Fhadre Ozgur produced a metal bowl filled with reddish-brown meat, which he proceeded to spoon-feed to Apollo.  The meat turned out to be raw and extremely spicy.  Apollo struggled to swallow it at first but after a few more spoonfuls found that he liked the flavour and wanted more.  The more he ate, the hungrier he felt.  Reminded of Morgan’s prodigious appetite, he laughed again.

“Good, good”.  The priest projected in an encouraging tone, stroking Apollo’s forehead while scraping the last of the meat from the bowl.  “The special food be working.  Twill help with the ritual”.

After that, the priest murmured an incantation and Apollo fell asleep, completely oblivious to the complex ritual being conducted.

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Cold water splashed into Gerald’s face, breaking him out of a most enjoyable dream in which he had been teaching his young son the art of sword-fighting.  The grimy face of Celeste looked down at him, grinning and brandishing what looked like a brown candle.  “Rise and shine, Gerald.  Wake up and smell the cordite!”  He waved the explosive stick under Gerald’s nose and chuckled.

Gerald groaned and heaved himself out of bed while Celeste juggled with three of the candle-like sticks.  “I hope them things won’t go off in here”.

“Not til I light ‘em up”.  The beaming grin on Celeste’s dirt-smeared face did nothing to reassure Gerald.

Outside in a small courtyard, the skinny little Par-Varah drilled his team with the confidence of a seasoned battle commander.  “Barracks 39, situated in the Shenkaya District.  Three hundred new recruits were shipped in a few days ago to begin their military training.  The time be ripe for some serious sabotage, me amigos.  We go in via the sewage tunnels, plant our seeds of doom and let them flower into magnificent flames.  When they’ve shed their load, little will remain of Barracks 39 and its personnel.  Twill set them Cyad bullies back a long way in their plans.  Any questions?”

“Do I get a gun?” Veerna piped up, winking at Celeste.

Celeste grinned and wagged his finger at her.  “Clearly, me dear, ye know little about the nature of explosives.  They be delicate flowers and need to be treated with a gentle loving touch.  That means no firearms.  If ye were to discharge a laser rifle by accident, ye’ll be blowing us up along with the barracks.  Not quite according to plan, eh?”

“Spoilsport” Veerna grumbled, affecting a sulky demeanour.  “No kisses for you later, Les!”

“I’ll have to bear the disappointment” Celeste quipped, sniffing loudly and wiping away non-existent tears.  “Come on, amigos, let’s move out.  Yer carriages await”.

The carriages turned out to be two old utility trucks.  The team of intrepid saboteurs packed themselves into the vehicles.  Not trusting Veerna, Gerald made sure that he got in the same truck as her.

Celeste climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.  Another operative drove the second truck.

They parked a short distance from the sewage plant and went the rest of the way on foot through miles of filthy stinking tunnels.  The team paid no heed to the dirty water which they sloshed through, not even complaining when it rose from ankle height to waist height.

“Right, we be here” Celeste announced, unpacking the explosives from his waterproof rucksack and distributing them.  “Time to work our magic.  Shine brightly, me dears!  Ten-span fuses.  Wait til I give the order, then light ‘em up and run for yer lives!”

Total chaos ensued.  Explosions went off all around, followed by the sound of falling masonry.  Smoke billowed in the tunnels, making it difficult to see.  Gerald lit his fuse and ran as fast as he could, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his lame leg.  He had no idea if the others had got out in time.  All he could think of was Elsa.  He had to survive for her sake.  He wanted that dream of teaching his son to become reality.

When he arrived back at the place where the saboteurs had parked the trucks, he felt both relieved and dismayed to discover that he was the last one to arrive.  Everyone, including a smirking Veerna, swarmed around, high-fiving and congratulating each other.

“Great job, amigos!” Celeste sounded triumphant.  “The whole barracks will have to be rebuilt from the foundations upwards.  Back to base for a well-earned rest and a few jars of me home-brewed wine!”

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“Tis complicated” Andreas stated.  “I were in the midst of tracing Apollo’s and River’s time-streams.  Adding Rachel’s into the mix might make things easier, assuming that they’ve all been sent to the same time-index.  Tis highly unlikely that the portal would’ve sent them to three different locations and times”.

“Does that mean you’ve got to start all over again with your equations?” Morgan asked.

“Only with Rachel’s time-stream” Andreas answered.  “I should be able to pick up the other two easily enough.  Watch over Daren and guard the warehouse while I be working”.

Resigned to another long wait, Morgan paced up and down while Ewan stood by the door.  Daren remained in a deep sleep.

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“The baby be doing fine” Remyn stated, giving Elaine a cheery smile.  “I’ll start the mind merge now.  Twill involve more than a simple merge.  I need to suppress the traumatic memories so that your sister can relax and heal”.

The healer leaned over the bed and placed his hands on the sides of Elsa’s head, initiating contact with her mind.  Painful memories blasted at him in a chaotic torrent, causing him to stagger.  He used a meditation technique to calm both himself and his patient, then proceeded to re-order the young woman’s mind.

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Apollo slipped in and out of consciousness for some time. The ritual seemed to have done its work, for the black veins returned to their normal colouring and he felt no pain. After a while, he fell into a deep sleep for some time. When he woke up, he found Vedat hovering over him with concern. When Vedat saw Apollo looking at him, his face split in a smile. “Ah!” he said. “Ye be awake! How do ye feel?”

Apollo tried to sit up, but found his limbs lacked the strength. He let himself fall back onto the bed. “Like I’ve been attacked from the inside,” he mumbled. “I owe you my life, Lord Vedat. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Vedat smiled and stroked Apollo’s arm. “Ye do not have to,” he assured the healer.

Apollo shook his head. “You don’t understand. Rachel and I were trying to escape. She couldn’t bear slavery any longer. I’m afraid that her running away might result in more harm coming to her,” he said, and found himself spilling everything — from the moment Jezebel had sent him and River to the past, to now, including Rachel’s fear of being controlled and alone as well as Gyul’s warning that someone wanted to abduct and use them to kill someone. He finished and hesitated before going on, “I was reluctant to try to escape, thinking we might be safer with you, but she was too stubborn. I am greatly sorry, but we aren’t from here. You have been most kind, but when my friends come for me, I’d like to go home. I have a friend here who can repay you what you paid for myself and Rachel. In the meantime, once I’ve recovered, I promise to work faithfully for you until Andreas and Morgan come for me.”

He trailed off. “I’m very afraid that Rachel and River may have ended up in the hands of that man who wants us to kill someone,” he added softly. “They might threaten the safety of your home to reach me. I will do my best to protect you and your family, and serve you until a time comes that I must leave. I owe you my life, Lord Vedat. I hope to repay that somehow.”

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Gerald sat down in the corner as the other successful saboteurs celebrated. Veerna was sitting directly beside Celeste, her arm entwined around his neck, holding a glass of his wine and laughing. She fitted in so well with the rest of the bloodthirsty, excitable rebels. Gerald rolled a piece of meat around his plate idly.

Boredom was threatening to set in. He didn’t like nor agree with any of the other rebels; they were far too volatile and excitable. Gerald preferred a cool approach to a mission and a simple rest after a successful mission. He leaned back against the wall, breathing in slowly. In his moment of peace, he reached out, trying to feel Elsa from the time difference between them.

He couldn’t.

Meanwhile, Veerna took another sip of wine. “Really, Les, you must learn to make wine that doesn’t taste as good,” she said teasingly. “Otherwise, everyone will be too drunk to listen to your orders!”

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Although at first Elsa struggled against Remyn, fighting him, the calming emanations soothed her, and she relaxed, drifting to sleep while still in the mind merge. Remyn remained in the merge for only a few more moments before releasing her and laying her down gently. Then he covered her with a blanket before turning to the concerned Elaine.

“Well?” she asked, practically bursting with worry.

“She be resting now,” Remyn assured her, patting her shoulder. “She be healing, and she’ll be fine.”

Elaine sat down heavily in the chair they’d brought into the room for her, covering her face. “Thank God,” she whispered, tears streaming down her hidden cheeks. “I thought … I thought …”

After a long moment, she raised her shining eyes to Remyn. “Thank you,” she said simply.

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Rachel groaned, her head fuzzy. It felt like it weighed a million pounds on her neck. She forced her heavy lids open and saw the sickliest-looking man she’d ever seen leaning over her. The surprise made her jump and she nearly cracked her skull against his. “Who the heck are you?” she cried, her voice thick and gravelly from sleep.

The man gave a smile that looked like he’d been caught in a sandstorm in Ali Baba’s Story. “I am Doctor Yozev Kandlin, a renowned medical practitioner and lawyer,” he said. “It is good to see you awake, Lady Andric.”

“You kidnapped me,” she said, staring at him.

“Ahh, ‘liberated’ you is a better term,” Yozev assured her. “I had to sedate you to remove the electronic tracking device implanted in you from your slavery. You are free now, Lady Andric.”

The miserable-looking place didn’t exactly scream “safe” to Rachel. “I know what you want,” she said suddenly. “You want me to kill someone! Gyul warned us about that, at least. Well, I’ll tell you, NO. I will never do what you want me to do. You can offer me anything in the world that you want, it won’t make any difference! You’re a sick, twisted individual and I have just one thing to say to you. Where is River Meer?!”

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Daren woke with a start. “What the devil?” he said shrilly.

“It’s alright,” Morgan said tiredly. “Ewan put you to sleep. Andreas is back to scanning for River.”

Daren looked blankly from one dark-haired young man to the other before shrugging. “Alright,” he said, and settled down to wait. 

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Vedat inclined his head.  “Ye be a true man of honour, Apollo.  I thank ye for yer honesty.  One of me house slaves noticed that Rachel had gone missing and alerted me while ye were undergoing yer banishing ceremony.  I’ve already sent Sahnaz and some of his team out to search for her”.

“What will happen to her if they find her?”  Apollo did not bother trying to hide his anxiety.

“When they find her” Vedat amended.  “She won’t be punished”.  He leaned in close and gave Apollo several arm strokes.  “Ye have a lot to learn about us Varagans.  Outsiders paint a grim picture of us as heartless savages who delight in acts of cruelty and violence.  Tis inaccurate at best and insulting at worst.  Every member of a Varagan household be valued and loved, from the lowliest field slave to the most cosseted concubine.  I only hope that no harm comes to Rachel”.

“And River Meer” Apollo reminded him.  “Although she has powers, she is very naïve and vulnerable”.

“Me people will be on the lookout for her too” Vedat assured him.  “And I’ll ask Fhadre Ozgur to consult with the other priests at his Temple for means of making contact with yer friends.  Such mysteries be in the hands of the Priesthood”.

“Thank you, Lord Vedat”.  Apollo managed a smile.  “I appreciate your understanding”.

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“Not going with Les and the others today, Gerald?” Selonicus enquired, peering in the doorway.

Gerald shook his head.  “Me leg be playing up.  Old battle wound, never healed properly.  Besides, me first mission proved how much of a liability I be.  I were the last to get out, holding everyone else up”.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself”.  Selonicus’s mouth curved into the merest hint of a smile.  “Les gave an excellent report of you.  He said that you were among the steadiest and most reliable on that mission.  Anyway, since I be a healer, I could take a look at your injured leg, see if I can do anything about it”.

“Ah, tis no big deal” Gerald replied.  “I’ve lived with it for long enough now to be used to it.  Ye should save yer strength for healing those with more serious wounds”.

Before Selonicus could say anything further on the subject, Maas Lowenstern materialised in the room with them and launched into a detailed account of events at Corrective School 452, followed by reports on troop movements in the Varicharenzo wilderness.  Selonicus stroked his straggly beard while he listened to his colleague’s updates.  He then brought Maas up to speed on the latest sabotage missions which Celeste’s team had undertaken.  The two sorcerers spent a few minutes discussing strategies for what they called “the next phase”.

Gerald had welcomed being ignored, so had not been expecting Maas to address him directly.  “Tis good to see you again, Gerald Hunt.  I take it you have settled in here?”

“Not exactly” he answered.  “I mean, tis better than being a prisoner but I miss me wife.  She be expecting our first child and I want to get back home in time for the birth”.

“Tis perfectly understandable” Maas acknowledged.  “Unfortunately, we don’t have contact with the Sacred Circle of Chronomages”.

“Aye, ye’ve already told me that several times” Gerald reminded him.  “And I’ve requested several times to be taken to Sartoria.  The Ohrivaal tribe might be able to help me”.

“The Horeb desert be a most inhospitable place”.  Maas spoke in his usual calm manner.  “While the tribes won’t be hostile towards an outsider, neither will they go out of their way to help.  You’d have to prove yourself trustworthy before the tribal elders would consider any requests made of them by a stranger”.

Gerald sighed, having detected the Losinthan’s reluctance.  “I’ve been to their encampment several times and I reckon I know enough about their customs to get by.  I only ask that ye take me there.  I’ll do the rest by meself”.

The two sorcerers conferred telepathically for several minutes, leaving Gerald in agonising suspense.

Maas held out his hand to Gerald.  “I won’t be expected back at 452 for two days.  Tis part of the official leave which the Cyad so generously grants its employees.  Very well, I shall take you to the Ohrivaal encampment.  You’ll have the two days in which to seek assistance from the tribe before I be due to return to my post.  If the elders refuse to help you, you should call for me telepathically and I’ll bring you back here.  Tis the best I can do in the circumstances”.

“Thank ye”.  Gerald took hold of the Losinthan’s hand and the dingy room melted away.

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“Lady Andric, tis never a good idea to listen to idle gossip”.  Yozev leered at her in a most disturbing manner.  “Tis spread about by those who fail to understand the nature of my work.  I labour day and night to eradicate the spread of diseases manufactured by the Cyad’s biological warfare scientists.  Those who seek to belittle my efforts or outright oppose me do so out of jealousy or misplaced loyalty to their Cyad overseers.  Perhaps if you would accompany me on a tour of this facility, you would be reassured as to my intentions and therefore more disposed towards helping rid me of my enemies”.

“You won’t change my mind” Rachel insisted.  “And I’d rather not have a tour of your so-called facility.  I’ve seen enough already.  Just leave me alone!”

“As you wish.  There are none so blind as those who refuse to see the light.  I shall of course have to restrain you.  Perhaps a little alone time will help to convince you to co-operate”.

Rachel made no reply.  Instead she summoned her powers and extended her hand, lightly brushing the odious man’s sweaty brow.  He backed away before she could make proper contact.  Rachel muttered a curse under her breath, realising that her failed attempt had probably made her situation even worse.

Yozev stared at her for a second before crashing to the floor, banging his head on the rough uneven flagstones.

Rachel’s curses turned to prayers of gratitude.  Her powers had worked when she had most needed them.

She ran to the door, finding to her relief that Yozev had left it unlocked.  Having no idea how long her sleeping spell would last, she dared not waste any time.

Ignoring the heavy fatigue brought on by use of her powers, she ran along the dimly lit corridors, searching for a way out.  When she came to a flight of stairs, she knew that she was heading in the right direction.

Before going through the door at the top of the stairs, she took a few minutes to listen.  It would be pointless dashing out there if Yozev had posted guards.

Hearing nothing, she opened the door a little and peered out.  The main part of the warehouse appeared to be empty, so she ventured forth, hoping that no guards were waiting for her outside.

She paused again at the main double doors, trying to discern if the voices she could hear belonged to Yozev’s guards or to random people out in the street.

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The searing heat of the desert came as a shock to Gerald after the frigid temperatures of Mondias.  Although he missed his favourite long leather coat and breeches which he had left behind at the prison camp, he knew that the drab workers’ overalls would not make him sweat as much as his leather garments.

He thanked Maas and watched the Losinthan sorcerer dematerialising.  Away from the chaotic sabotage missions and the lively chatter of the saboteurs, he found the silence of the desert a welcome respite.

Maas had brought him to the edge of the Ohrivaal territory, so he had some distance to cover before he reached the encampment.  Wiping sweat from his brow, he trudged through the sand, feeling it rippling its welcome beneath his boots.

He had not gone far when two tall naked Sartorian women materialised in front of him.  Both had waist-length dreadlocks and the typical harsh beauty which he had come to recognise as a trait of the desert dwellers.  One of the women appeared to be in the advanced stages of pregnancy; another reminder of how much he missed Elsa.

The pregnant one sent out a telepathic projection.  “Ye be lost, stranger?”

Gerald shook his head.  “I be looking for the Ohrivaal leader”.  He paused, trying to recall the name of Anwyn’s mother.  “Veh-something.  The Matriarch”.  He hoped that they would understand his mangled rendition of their language.

“We have no Matriarch”.  The pregnant woman seemed amused.  “Me Pa be the Ohrivaal Patriarch.  I be Gharia and I will be Matriarch after he be gone to the Beyond.  This be Rhalia, our Hastamage.  Our spiritual leader”.

Gerald introduced himself while the sand continued rippling around his ankles.

Rhalia addressed him for the first time.  “Gerald Hunt, ye be unknown to me.  But the sand recognises ye as a friend of the Ohrivaal.  Sand always knows.  Ye may take shelter in our encampment”.  She reached out and grabbed his forearms, maintaining a tight grip and grinning at him.  “Blessings of the desert be upon ye”.

Without warning, the Hastamage translocated him to the main part of the encampment.  Gharia arrived at the same time and introduced him to her father.

A little while later, Gerald sat amongst the Sartorians, drinking fruit juice and eating some sort of raw spiced meat.

The Patriarch waited for him to finish his meal before initiating a mind merge.  Gerald grimaced but knew that he had to let the man see into his mind in order to establish trust.

Following the mind merge, the Patriarch shook his head, making his long snakelocks dance around.  “Yer thoughts make no sense.  Ye have memories of being here with Carpathians.  Tis true that Sartoria be allied with Varathusia for the purposes of fighting the Cyad, but no Carpathian has ever set foot in Ohrivaal territory.  Their leaders always go to our capital city to discuss the war”.

Gerald sighed, wondering what to do next.  He did not want to admit defeat and recall Maas.  “What about Chronomages?  Do ye know any of them?”

His question prompted another head-shake from the Patriarch.  “Chronomages ain’t welcome among us.  They cause too much disruption.  Time should not be messed with.  Even our Hastamage takes care when relating visions of the future revealed by the sacred Hasta tree”.

“Ye should sleep now” Rhalia suggested.  “We have spare tents for visitors.  Ye may sleep in one of those”.

Gerald allowed her to lead him over to a row of small tents, pitched a short distance away from the main part of the encampment.  Although he felt exhausted, sleep remained elusive.  Worry gnawed at him.  Should he give in and summon Maas or wait and see what the following day brought?