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outer access panel to reveal the inner workings of the pump’s motor。 Now； in the fading light of
twilight； he removed the motor’s burnt…out starter and replaced it with a new one； mindful to say a
prayer to the machine spirit inside it as he tightened and re…checked the connections。
Taking a spouted canister from beside the foot of the pump he dribbled a few drops of unguent
from it into the workings。 Then； satisfied everything was in order； he reached out for the large lever
at the side and worked it slowly up and down a dozen times to prime the pump before pressing the
ignition stud to start the motor。 Abruptly； the pump shuddered into noisy life； the motor whining as
it strained to pull water up from aquifers lying deep below the ground。 For a moment； Larn
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congratulated himself on a job well done。 Until； just as the first few muddy drops of water emerged
from the mouth of the pump to stain the dry earth of the irrigation trench before it； the motor
coughed and died。
Disappointed； Larn pressed the ignition stud again。 This time though； the motor stayed sullenly
silent。 Leaning forward； he carefully inspected the parts of the mechanism once more — checking
the connections for corrosion； making sure the moving parts were well…lubricated and free from grit；
searching for broken wires or worn components — all the things the mechanician…acolyte in
Ferrusville had warned them about the last time the pump was serviced。 Frustratingly； Larn could
find nothing wrong。 As far as he could see； the pump should be working。
Finally； reluctantly forced to concede defeat； Larn lifted the discarded access panel and began to
screw it into place once more。 He had so badly wanted to be able to fix the pump； with harvest time
still three weeks away； it was important the farm’s irrigation system should be in good working
order。 Granted； it had been a good season so far and the wheat was growing well but the life of a
farmer was always enslaved to the weather。 Without the irrigation system to fall back upon； a couple
of dry weeks now could mean the difference between feast and famine for an entire year。
But in the end he knew that was only part of it。 Standing there； looking down at the pump after
he had screwed the panel back in place； Larn realised his reasons for wanting to see it repaired went
far beyond such practical considerations。 Like it or not； tomorrow he would be leaving the farm
forever and saying farewell to the only land and life he had ever known； never to return。 He
understood now that he had felt the need to perform some last act of service to those he would be
leaving behind。 He had wanted to complete some final labour on their behalf。 An act of penance
almost； to give closure to his grief。
This morning； when his father had asked him to look at the pump and see if he could fix it； it had
seemed the perfect opportunity to achieve that aim。 Now though； the recalcitrant machine spirits
inside the pump and his own lack of knowledge had conspired against him。 No matter how hard he
tried； the pump was broken beyond his powers to repair it and his last act of penance would go
unfulfilled。
Larn collected his tools together and made ready to turn for home； only to pause again as he
noticed a change in the sunset。 Ahead； the sun had already half disappeared below the horizon；
while the sky around it had turned a deeper and more angry red。 What gave him pause was not the
sun or the sky； but the fields below them。 Where once they had been bathed in spectacular shades of
gold and amber； now the colour of the fields had become more uniform； changing to a dark and
unsettling shade of brownish red； like the colour of blood。 At the same time the evening breeze had
risen almost imperceptibly； catching the rows of wheat in the fields and causing them to flow and
shift before Larn’s eyes as though the fields themselves had become some vast and restless sea。 It
could almost be a sea of blood； he said to himself； the very thought of it causing him to shiver a
little。
A sea of blood。
And； try as hard as he might； he could read no good omen in that sign。
By the time Larn had put his tools away； the sun had all but set。 Leaving the barn behind； he walked
towards the farmhouse； the yellow glow of lamplight barely visible ahead of him through the slats of
the wooden shutters now closed over the farmhouse windows。 Stepping onto the porch Larn lifted
the latch to the front door and walked inside； carefully removing his boots at the threshold so as not
to track mud from the fields into the hallway。 Then； leaving the boots just inside the doorway； he
walked down the hall towards the kitchen； unconsciously making the sign of the aquila with his
fingers as he passed the open door of the sitting room with its devotional picture of the Emperor
hung over the fireplace。
Reaching the kitchen he found it deserted； the smell of woodsmoke and the delicious aromas of
all his favourite foods rising from the pans simmering on the stove。 Roasted xorncob； boiled derna
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beans； alpaca stew and taysenbeny pie： together； the dishes of the last meal he would ever eat at
home。 Abruptly it occurred to him； in whatever years of his life might yet come； those selfsame
aromas would forever now be linked with a feeling of desperate sadness。
Ahead； the kitchen table was already laid out with plates and cutlery ready for the meal。 As he
stepped past the table toward the sink； he remembered returning from the fields two nights earlier to
find his parents sitting in the kitchen waiting for him； the black…edged parchment of the induction
notice lying mutely on the table between them。 From the first it had been obvious they had both
been crying； their eyes red and raw from grief。 He had not needed to ask them the reason for their
tears。 Their expressions； and the Imperial eagle embossed on the surface of the parchment； had said
it all。
Now； as he moved past the table Larn spotted the same parchment lying folded in half on top of
one of the kitchen cupboards。 Diverted from his original intentions； he walked towards it。 Then；
picking up the parchment and unfolding it； he found himself once more reading the words written
there below the official masthead。
Citizens of Jumael IV； the parchment read。 Rejoice！ In accordance with Imperial Law and the
powers of his Office； your Governor has decreed two new regiments of the Imperial Guard are to be
raised from among his people。 Furthermore； he has ordered those conscripted to these new
regiments are to be assembled with all due haste； so that they may begin their training without delay
and take their place among the most Holy and Righteous armies of the Blessed Emperor of All
Mankind。
From there the parchment went on to list the names of those who had been conscripted； outlining
the details of the mustering process and emphasising the penalties awaiting anyone who failed to
report。 Larn did not need to read the rest of it — in the last two days he had read the parchment so
many times he knew the words by heart。 Yet despite all that； as though unable to stop picking at the
scab of a half…healed wound； he continued to read the words written on the parchment before him。
“Arvin？” He heard his mother’s voice behind him； breaking his chain of thought。 “You startled
me； standing there like that。 I didn’t hear you come in。”
Turning； Larn saw his mother standing beside him； a jar of kuedin seeds in her hand and her
eyes red with recently dried tears。
“I just got here； Ma；” he said； feeling vaguely embarrassed as he put the parchment back where
he had found it。 “I finished my chores； and thought I should wash my hands before dinner。”
For a moment his mother stood there quietly staring at him。 Facing her in uncomfortable silence；
Larn realised how hard it was for her to speak at all now she knew she would be losing him
tomorrow。 It lent their every word a deeper meaning； making even the most simple of conversations
difficult while with every instant there was the threat that a single ill…chosen word might release the
painful tide of grief welling up inside her。
“You took your boots off？” she said at last； retreating to the commonplace in search of safety。
“Yes； Ma。 I left them just inside the hallway。”
“Good；” she said。 “You’d better clean them tonight； so as to be ready for tomorrow…” At that
word his mother paused； her voice on the edge of breaking； her teeth biting her lower lip and her
eyelids closed as though warding off a distant sensation of pain。 Then； half turning away so he could
no longer see her eyes； she spoke again。
“But anyway； you can do that later；” she said。 “For now； you’d better go down to the cellar。
Your Pa’s already down there and he said he wanted to see you when you got back from the fields。”
Turning further away from him now； she moved over to the stove and lifted the lid off one of the
pans to drop a handful of kuedin seeds into it。 Ever the dutiful son； Larn turned away。 Towards the
cellar and his father。
The cellar steps creaked noisily as Larn made his way down them。 Despite the noise； at first his
father did not seem to notice his approach。 Lost in concentration； he sat bent over his workbench at
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the far end of the cellar； a whetstone in his hand as he sharpened his wool…shears。 For a moment；
watching his father unawares as he worked； Larn felt almost like a ghost — as though he had passed
from his family’s world already and they could no longer see or hear him。 Then； finding the thought
of it gave him a shiver； he spoke at last and broke the silence。
“You wanted to see me； Pa？”
Starting at the sound of his voice； his father laid the shears and the whetstone down before
turning to look towards his son and smile。
“You startled me； Arv；” he said。 “Zell’s oath； but you can ind to。 So；
did you manage to fix the pump？”
“Sorry； Pa。” Larn said。 “I tried replacing the starter and every other thing I could think of； but
none of it worked。”
“You tried your best； son；” his father said。 “That’s all that matters。 Besides； the machine spirits
in that pump are so old and ornery the damned thing never worked right half the time anyway I’ll
have to see if I can get a mechanician to come out from Ferrasville to give it a good look…over next
week。 In the meantime； the rain’s been pretty good so we shouldn’t have a problem。 But anyway；
there was something else I wanted to see you about。 Why don’t you grab yourself a stool so the two
of us men can talk？”
Pulling an extra stool from beneath the workbench； his father gestured for him to sit down。
Then； waiting until he saw his son had made himself comfortable； he began once more。
“I don’t suppose I ever told you too much about your great…grandfather before； did I？” he said。
“I know he was an off…worlder； Pa。” Larn said； earnestly。 “And I know his name was Augustus；
same as my middle name is。”
“True enough；” his father replied。 “It was a tradition on your great…grandfather’s world to pass
on a family name to the first…born son in every generation。 Course； he was long dead by the time
you were born。 Mind you； he died even before I was born。 But he was a good man； and so we did it
to honour him all the same。 A good man should always be honoured； they say； no matter how long
he’s been dead。”
For a moment； his face grave and thoughtful； his father fell silent。 Then； as though he had made
some decision； he raised his face up to look his son clearly in the eye and spoke again。
“As I say； your great…grandfather was dead long before I could have known him； Arvie。 But
when I was seventeen and just about to come of age my father called me down into this cellar and
told me the tale of him — just like I’m about to tell you now。 You see； my father had decided that
before I became a man it was important I knew where I came from。 And I’m glad he did； cause what
he told me then has stood me in good stead ever since。 Just like I’m hoping that what I’m going to
tell you now will stand you in good stead likewise。 Course； with what’s happened in the last few
days — and where you’re bound for — I’ve got extra reasons for telling it to you。 Reasons that；
Emperor love him； my own father never had to face。 But that’s the way of