and gave up the power over the elements.'
Talsy frowned. 'Could we ever get it back?'
'No. It's lost to you forever because you don't understand it anymore, and it can't be taught.'
'Well, unlike those envious bastards who tortured you, I respect your abilities.'
Chanter sighed and leant on the railing. 'They're ignorant. It's not their fault. They've strayed far from their world and the protection and guidance of their god. You, perhaps, have accepted this world better than they.'
Talsy studied the Hashon Jahar, who remained immobile in their orderly ranks, as if they would stay like that forever. Their armour glinted in the flames' blue light, and the heat shimmer distorted their forms so she could not make out their faces.
She looked at Chanter. 'How long do you think they'll wait?'
He shrugged. 'Who knows?'
'Couldn't you… frighten them away?'
'I granted protection, nothing more.'
Talsy nodded. 'But you could do more, couldn't you? You could make the earth swallow them, for instance. After all, if they can't die, you wouldn't be killing.'
'Could you throw a Mujar into a Pit?'
'No! Of course not!'
Chanter smiled. 'Yet he wouldn't die. So I can't make the earth swallow them. There's no need.'
'But Mujar are good, harmless people. These are murderers, destroyers.'
He shook his head. 'That's not for us to judge. We're not gods.'
'I would say it was pretty self-evident. You don't need to be a god to know what they've done.'
'But you don't know why they did it.'
She frowned. 'You know why they do it, don't you? You know what they are, too, so why won't you tell me?'
'I can't.' He turned away. 'Maybe someday I'll be able to, but not now.'
A scowling servant served them lunch, and they spent the rest of the day resting as music and laughter wafted up from the streets below. Talsy took advantage of their inactivity and seclusion to ask Chanter about Mujar, but, while he would not impart any further information on that subject, he did speak freely about his life with the hill clan. She found his reticence frustrating, but told herself that he must have his reasons. That, plus the ease with which he was able to save the city, gave her a little insight into the reasons why Truemen hated Mujar. It did seem cruel and unfair to deny aid that was so easily given, but again she rebuked herself. He must have at least one excellent reason, and she was determined to discover what it was. Until then, she decided, she would not judge him.
When dusk fell, the city quieted as weary revellers retired, safe within the hated Mujar's protection. After dark, the sheet of flame lighted the countryside with leaping blue radiance. A low bank of cloud reflected it, and glinting armour moved in the darkness beyond. The light threw deep shadows into the streets, outshining the few dim lamps. The fiery wall was like a scene from Hell. It drowned out the moonlight and made the world seem darker.
Chanter lay with her until she fell asleep, but she woke later, cold and alone. He stood by the railing, staring at the fire wall.
Talsy rose and joined him. 'What's wrong?'
'The Hashon Jahar tried to cross the river beyond the barrier.'
Talsy followed his gaze. The fire crossed the river upstream, extending the wall to the far bank. It roared from the water, sending up clouds of steam. The Black Riders milled on the bank, their steeds plunging and wheeling away from the flames. Talsy glanced at the Mujar, who watched them with narrowed eyes that glowed in the flames' light.
'What if they try to swim under the fire?' she asked.
'They won't. The barrier extends below the surface.'
'Fire under the water?'
He smiled. 'No, ice.'
'But how can the river flow?'
'It's not a solid wall. The water can pass through it, but not men.'
She gazed at the Black Riders. 'If they can't die, why don't they just walk through the fire?'
'They can be harmed, and they would be so badly burnt that they would not be able to fight once they got through it. And if they did get through, I would raise a wall of ice within the circle. Then, if they had the strength to smash their way through several feet of ice and tried, I would thicken the wall. If they somehow got through the ice, I would raise a wall of rock. They can't win, and they know it. No one can defy the will of a Mujar except another, and if two of us had to fight, which we never would, we would tear the world apart.'
Talsy nodded, reassured. 'So they thought they could sneak past while you were asleep?'
'It seems so, but Mujar don't need to sleep. They know that, but if they thought me inattentive, they were wrong.'
They waited until the Hashon Jahar returned to the fields, where they settled once more. Chanter lay with her until morning, when the servant brought them breakfast. Beyond the fire wall, the Riders had dismounted and stood or sat in groups, their steeds lying on the ploughed ground. Evidently they had settled down for a long wait, but showed no signs of setting up camp, and their horses carried only saddles and armour. They remained mostly motionless and utterly silent, as if dozing. Talsy squinted at them through the fire wall's heat shimmer, but they were too distant and distorted to see clearly.
Talsy spent the morning alone with Chanter, but at lunchtime Tranton came to ask why the fire wall now crossed the river. Talsy told him, and he left to inform the governor. In the city below, life seemed to have returned to normal, apart from the queues of people still climbing the wall to gaze at the fire wall. The bridges groaned under the crowds that came to see the fire that crossed the river, often hidden behind clouds of billowing steam. The day passed uneventfully, as did the night.
In the afternoon of the second day, Talsy decided to go down into the city to buy the supplies they would need to continue their journey, replacing what she had lost. A guard accompanied her, walking behind with a spear at the ready. The people's hostility amazed her, for their hatred seemed to have grown. Many spat at her and shouted insults, their faces twisted with hate. The guardsman was forced to shake his spear many times to keep them at bay. Talsy's anger grew at their ingratitude, and she longed to shout back that they owed their lives to a Mujar, and should be grateful. She knew it would be futile, however, and her shopping was fraught with problems. Many shopkeepers refused to serve her until the soldier made them, and others closed their shops when they saw her coming.
At the armourer, a stony-eyed man glared at her. She asked for a good hunting knife, and he produced a poor rusty thing. A passer-by paused to spit on the street beside her.
'Mujar whore!'
The guard raised his spear, and the man walked off.
Talsy turned back to the armourer. 'I want a good knife, not a piece of rubbish. I have silver.'
The blacksmith shrugged. 'We're all out.'
Boxes of knives glinted behind a bead curtain, and she restrained her anger with an effort. 'Then I'd like to order one made.'
'We're too busy. We have to make swords to fight the Black Riders when the yellow filth leaves.'
'Be glad that the yellow filth is even buying you the time to make them,' she snarled.
The armourer turned away. 'I don't have to listen to you, Mujar slut. Go back to your scum lover.'
Talsy wanted to leap over the counter and throttle him. As she was about to turn away, another man appeared through the curtains. He had a well-trimmed grey beard; his face burnt deep brown from years working near a furnace. He raised an enquiring brow at the younger man.
'What's going on, Ranar?'
'It's the Mujar bitch from the tower.'
'Ah.' The older man looked at Talsy with twinkling grey eyes. 'How can we help you?'
'Father!' Ranar protested.
His father held up a hand. 'Business is business, son.'
