The Barren Land
The Shepherd, Book I
A Novel by Jeffrey B. Linn
All Rights Reserved

Chapter VIII

The horses' hooves kicked up gray dust that settled immediately. Even our voices seemed muted. We left the path early on, not wishing to announce ourselves, or be diverted. Twigs snapped and fell noiselessly as we pushed through brambles and shrubs. Nothing stirred in the whole land as the hours passed except what we disturbed in our travels. I felt that we could so easily be observed, that even the land watched us, passively reviling us. Eventually we came to a great hedge of briars and plunged in. After several moments' thrashing and various complaints from the horses, we emerged face to face with an imposing wall made up of irregular chunks of igneous rock. We skirted the wall and came to a road which led to the doors of the city, towering timbers lacquered in pitch and lashed together with immense iron links. Here we realized abruptly that Nebiah was no longer among us.

The gatekeeper was dumbfounded. "Perhaps she's--" He was interrupted by the sound of a gong. Presently the heavy doors began to swing open. In the entrance stood a woman, dressed in a mottled green robe. She had feathers and shells woven into her graying locks.

"Welcome travelers!" she called out cordially. "You are expected. Bring your horses within where they will be cared for, and please attend our welcome."

The gatekeeper leaned slightly toward the swarthy fellow and they exchanged a fusillade of whispers. Then he motioned us to follow him in.

mentor had a few words of his own, "This is very odd, boy," he hissed. "Either the Shepherd has smoothed the way for us, or--" He fell silent as we passed the woman. She beamed at us. mentor nodded to her.

Our horses were led off to a stable to the left, and we were escorted to a dais which stood in the center of the square directly beyond the city gate.

"Bhrata, how do you read her?" I overheard the gatekeeper say.

"A devotee of Bios, the 'life force' " replied the man in the jerkin.

As we ascended the platform, people milling in the square took notice and began to assemble. There were chairs and after exchanging glances we tentatively sat down. Two chairs had been moved forward, closer to the podium, and a man in a hemp robe sat in one of them. I had a start because at first he appeared to have two heads. Then I realized that his double was a very life-like sculpture, with human hair neatly arranged, attached to the shoulder of his cloak.

"And him?" said the gatekeeper.

"He follows Distazo, the so-called duality," said Bhrata.

The gatekeeper moved to ascend the podium, but the woman deftly beat him to it. She held out her hand for quiet.

"Today we welcome strangers from the plain," she began.

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