Free Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law by T C Southwell Page A

Chanter followed with Kieran and Talsy, closing the gate
behind them with a gesture.

 
     
    Chapter Four
     
    "How did he do
it?"
    Talsy lay with
Chanter atop the roof that was his favourite retreat, safe from
prying eyes and interruptions. She made sure that Kieran did not
discover this roost, enjoying her monopoly on Chanter's attention.
Since the previous night, when Chanter had fought the mage, her
curiosity had burnt in her, thwarted when the Mujar had vanished
before they reached the village. Now she stretched out beside him
in the sun, enjoying his closeness as he lay on his back with his
eyes closed.
    "How did who
do what?" he asked.
    "How did the
mage make fire?"
    "Ah. What did
you feel?"
    "Cold." She
shivered at the memory. "Like ice in my blood."
    "Really?" He
opened his eyes and frowned. "Interesting."
    "So?" She
prodded him.
    Chanter stared
at the clouds. "He must have been drawing Crayash from the living
beings around him and channelling it."
    "So much?"
    "People have
plenty of fire in their blood. It's what warms them, and he used
the horses too. It's not true power. It's sort of a vampire
version, taking from others. Had he been alone, he would have been
virtually powerless, or frozen to death."
    "But how did
he do it?" She let her eyes wander over his face while he was
distracted.
    He shrugged.
"Without the law to stop him, it's just a matter of willpower.
Truemen lost the ability to control the elements long ago, but this
world is rich in what you call magic. He probably stumbled across
it quite by accident."
    "You mean
anyone can do it now? Could I?"
    Chanter sat
up, looking so fierce that she recoiled. "No. Don't try. It's
forbidden."
    "But you do
it," she protested.
    "Mujar are
meant to do it. We're designed that way. We know how to control it,
and especially when not to use it. Not all Lowmen can do what he
did. He was different, perhaps already changed by the lack of law.
The gods will frown upon any who take power that they did not
bestow. Do you understand?"
    Chanter
touched the Mujar mark on her brow, sending a tingle through her
blood. "I've given you all the power you need, to call the spirits
to your aid and walk unharmed amongst the beasts. What you cannot
deal with, I'll help you with, but never try to use magic.
    I forbid it.
Obedience, remember?"
    "Okay." She
hesitated, glad when he relaxed and lay back. "How did you snuff it
out?"
    "I took
control of it. So long as I control Crayash, no one else may use it
unless I let them. I could have snuffed out the fire in his blood
if I had wanted to."
    "That would
have killed him," she pointed out.
    "Of course."
Her shocked silence made him look at her. "But I would never do
it."
    "You're
forbidden."
    "No, not
exactly." He paused, thinking. "I suppose I'm incapable of it.
Hypothetically I could, but morally I couldn't. Do you
understand?"
    "Not
really."
    He sighed. "I
don't know how else to explain it. Could you kill a helpless
babe?"
    "No!"
    "Exactly.
Physically you could, but mentally you couldn't. That's how it is
with me." Chanter closed his eyes, and she allowed a short silence
to fall before she changed the subject.
    "You remember
what you said at the gate, about caring for me?"
    "Mmm."
    She paused,
gathering her courage. "Well, amongst Truemen, there's a ceremony
to celebrate the love between two people. It's called marriage.
It's a public declaration of their love, you see, so others know
that the two are bound to each other. They swear to stay together
forever, and to always love each other..."
    "Is there a
point to this?" He opened one eye to look at her. "I know about
Trueman marriage."
    "Yes, there's
a point." She bit her lip, wondering how he would react. "I want us
to get married."
    "Us?" He
opened both eyes in surprise. "You mean you and I?"
    She nodded,
and he chuckled, then sobered, shaking his head at her serious
expression. "What a strange creature you are."
    Glad that he
had not reacted with horror or unreserved refusal, she