Shadowless: Book 1 of the Ilmaen Quartet

by Helen Bell

  ‘I’m so famished I’ll have it cold. Can I also have the willow bark powder from my pack? It’ll help me sleep.’

  He fetched both for her. Renia measured out a portion of the powdered bark, took it dry with a grimace and washed it down with the broth. When she had finished it all she set the bowl down and started to settle under the covers.

  ‘A moment longer, Renia, if you don’t mind?’ Kerin sat on the edge of her bed as she pushed herself up on her elbows, looking at him enquiringly.

  ‘You felt sure there was a reason why you should make this journey. I think I may know what it is. This.’ He opened the pouch, lifted the Eagle out and laid it on the blanket. In the dim room it caught the lamplight, shadow and sparkle. ‘This marks me. Hardly anyone will know my face, but they will know this. We were lucky today, stopped by opportunists who grabbed the first things they saw. In Ilmaen, if my enemies find me with the Eagle on me, it will mean death for me, and possibly all of us. From this point on I dare not carry it any more; yet on the other hand it must be safe and within my reach. It is the only proof of my identity I have, until we find someone who knows me well enough to recognize me. That is true of very few people, in the highest circles in Ilmaen, and you know who one of them is. If Lemno gets hold of me first, only the Eagle can prevent me from being laughed at all the way to the gallows as a pretender. So I need you to keep it safe for me, and to put it in the right hands if fate dictates.’

  Renia stared at the Eagle. He guessed she still associated it with her vision and shrank from the idea of even touching it. ‘Must I? It wants to be with you, not me,’ she said, faltering as she realized that made no sense.

  ‘It’s a piece of metal, Renia. It can’t want anything.’

  ‘You know I’m not good at explaining these things, but there's something about it that's keeping you safe… like a talisman. I'm scared that if you give it to me you'll lose that protection. Can't you keep it in your pack?’

  ‘If they suspect me, they will search my pack. It’s still a risk even if you have it, I know. In extremity it’s better that you should run with it and leave me than that we should both be caught. But I need to have it near enough to back up my story with the right people, and if you have it I know exactly where it is all the time. Your hands are the safest. Please, Renia.’

  He was determined, that was plain. And she was too tired to argue any more tonight.

  ‘Very well. But promise me, the moment it's safe to do so, you'll take it back. The very moment.’

  ‘I promise.’ He took off the pouch, put the Eagle back in it, hung it round her neck. She lay down again, testing the weight of it. If it were possible, she looked more unhappy about this than she had about being left behind. It couldn’t be helped.

  He closed the door gently behind him as he left. Turning around to find someone beside him, he only just checked the instinctive reaction that could have broken an innocent neck; Jesral blocked his path. How long she had been there he could only guess; he had not heard her come into the house. ‘Is Vel back?’ he whispered, recovering himself. She shook her head. Her face was pale and serious-looking. She held one finger to her lips and beckoned him to follow her to the settle on the far side of the room. Once seated there, as far away as they could get from the bedrooms, she leant forward to speak in a whisper.

  ‘I know about the Eagle.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ His voice was all innocence.

  ‘The walls are paper-thin in this house. A lesson you seem slow to learn, sir.’

  His expression turned dangerous, and she had the sense to fear it. She took a deep breath and continued carefully.

  ‘Perhaps you found his body and took it off him. Perhaps you are him. Either way you should know that – how shall I say it? – unofficial but highly authorized people from Ilmaen have been in the village in the last few weeks and are after both the Eagle and its owner. And given the conversation I just overheard, sir, I’d say I’m looking at the owner now.’

  ‘Supposing your assumption is right, it could be a very dangerous piece of information for you to hold.’ Despite the implicit threat in Kerin’s words she returned his gaze calmly; so she still had some other card to play. It must be a good one, for her to take such a risk.

  ‘I know. What choice would the real owner have other than to kill me? The only other option I can think of would be for him to take me along on his journey too. Now that would be difficult if I was unwilling to go – but very easy if I was willing. After all, by going along freely I’d be making myself part of the conspiracy. I couldn’t betray the Eagle’s owner without condemning myself.’

  ‘The Eagle’s owner might simply choose to leave you here,’ he observed. She thought that one through.

  ‘Mmm, possibly. But it’s risky. He knows my family are thieves and vagabonds. We might conspire to turn him in for money. Worse still, if I am in fact to be trusted and he leaves me behind, he’d face the risk that his trail has already been picked up and could lead to me. He knows they are not fussy about how they get information out of people, so even if he could face the risk to himself, could his conscience stand the pricking?’

  ‘You assume he has a conscience.’ Kerin gave her a half smile, so cold he could sense the fear rise in her. I have misread him! he could see her thinking. He softened the look, sure now that she understood the limits of his tolerance. ‘But he would be either a coward or a fool to signpost his route with corpses.’

  Her sigh was one of relief. ‘I think so too.’

  ‘Remember, there are three in my party who must make the decision,’ he said, dropping all pretence now.

  ‘No, you will decide. You know you will.’ A moment’s thought, and he acknowledged this. ‘Now we really must get to bed,’ she concluded. ‘And if I am not dead in mine by the morning, I’ll assume I should pack.’

  Chapter 10 – Gwrach

  To Kerin’s relief, neither of his companions said anything next morning against the latest change in plan. Renia simply listened and nodded as though she would have done the same thing in his place, and limped away to finalize the packing with Jesral. Vel looked troubled; understandably, with three changes forced on him in one night. Perhaps he was beginning to doubt Kerin’s command of the situation. Kerin wouldn’t have blamed him but cold reason assured him that, given the change in their circumstances, he had made the right decisions.

  It was not exactly a pre-dawn start that they managed, but they were up before most of the village. There was a further delay while Kerin rigged up a blanket saddle for Jesral behind Vel, who followed the procedure with a keen eye; Jesral paid it only desultory attention, something else preoccupying her.

  ‘Ready to try it?’ Kerin asked. She started, nodded, tucked her hair behind both ears and gave him her full attention. Vel mounted up and proffered his hand; Kerin stood by to offer her a boost. She worked out which hand and foot to offer to each of them, then used the crupper to help straighten herself up. There was some awkwardness while she worked out where to hold on to Vel, and how tightly, given her natural curves. Some chemistry was at work between them. Kerin almost smiled, but was sobered by the thought that anything coming of it would only complicate things.

  ‘That’ll be fine,’ she pronounced, swinging her leg back over and sliding down the horse’s flank. ‘Time I said my goodbyes.’

  Vel watched her go. ‘How far do we trust her?’ he asked when he was sure she was out of earshot.

  ‘We do not. One of us watches her at all times, until we have good reason to do otherwise.’ The frown that drew from Vel was expressive, as was the glance backwards at his sword, slung mercenary-fashion on his shoulder at present. Kerin signed Vel to unstrap it and demonstrated how to hitch it to the pommel so that it was within his reach, but not Jesral’s. Vel’s frown remained in place.

  oOo

  They set out. Jesral, keen to contribute, showed them an ancient lane which led north-east to the river. In places it was so overgrown they h
ad to use their swords, but it cut several hours off their journey time along the more-travelled but less direct main road.

  Midday brought them to a hay meadow on a bend of the river. The lower half of it had been recently mown, leading up from the river bank; young bullocks grazed at the far end, and with fresh grass and water to hand were unlikely to need any attention from their owner. The other half was still untouched meadow, colourful with spring flowers. There was no farmstead on this side of the river, so it must be an extension of the farmlands on the other bank. There a field of young grain stretched away, making anyone's approach easily visible. In unspoken agreement they made their rest halt there.

  Renia slid carefully off Bluey, anxious not to jar her ankle; Vel was quickly there to ease her down. Kerin and Jesral tethered the horses with plenty of slack to let them make the most of the fresh grass; the animals needed no prompting. The riders chose a spot near the bank, and food and drink were distributed.

  Afterwards, Vel persuaded Renia to sit and soak her leg in the river before he redressed it. As soon as he mentioned changing the dressing Jesral decided to go for a walk across the meadow.

  Her mother had done a neat job, and it was not so terrible a sight as it had been the day before. The flow of the river, icy cold and clear, plainly soothed it. ‘Ten minutes,’ Vel ordered, and Renia raised no objection. With a glance to Kerin, Vel confirmed that he was off to keep an eye on Jesral. Kerin acknowledged it, and began to pack up their things.

  He finished before the others returned, so joined Renia on the bank. It was warm in the sun and he lay flat out, jacket off and hands beneath his head, eyes half lidded. Through them he could see Renia moving her leg against the cooling water and glancing round at him. Her hand went briefly to the pouch around her neck and away again. She sat gazing across the river.

  Coarse grass stems stabbing him in the neck made Kerin sit up eventually. Renia was still staring at the far bank.

  ‘Look at that field over there,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t it look just like the sea? Light greeny-grey, and lighter still where the wind puts waves into it.’

  ‘It is very like the sea,’ he agreed.

  ‘I miss it already, even though we’ll see it again soon.’

  ‘Ilmaen will be tough for you then. It takes weeks to cross, and everywhere we need to go is inland.’ He sat beside her, relishing how still and calm it felt in this place, despite the waves running through the grain, the flow of the river. He could hear the faint whisper of the wind all around and a skylark rejoicing in springtime far above them. He could just see the skylark, seeming impossibly high to be singing so loud; the sound grew louder still as the bird swooped back down to earth. It stopped abruptly as it landed, deep among the meadow flowers. With no song and an empty field before him, it was possible to imagine he was utterly alone in the world.

  The sudden sense of isolation unnerved Kerin; then Renia spoke and the sensation was gone as fast as it had arrived.

  ‘Jez is keen to help us with the language,’ Renia told him. ‘Have you heard her speak Ilmaenese yet?’

  I have. She has a good grasp, though a strange accent, to my ears. Probably best for you to get tutoring from us both; her accent may be safer than mine is nowadays.’

  ‘She thinks we’ll find it strange over there. Is Ilmaen so very different from Mhrydain?’

  ‘In many ways it is very like. In others it could hardly be more different. Every province has its own style – in houses, clothes, food – and the people differ vastly, from of the colour of their skin to the traditions and beliefs they hold, having come originally from lands far to the north, east and south. I wager you will pick up more in your first two days there than I could tell you in a month.’

  ‘But you must tell me something more! What about this thing with surnames… how changing the way you say it changes what you mean?’

  ‘Well, that is to do with family and inheritance. Jastur and I are Hedsarollen; that is, the children of Sarol; but Jastur alone is Hed Sarol, the heir of Sarol.You will hear Hed used a lot, and also Lak. The words strictly mean male kin and female kin, but they are mostly used about children. Think of it as a narrower version of the system in Mhrydain, where you are a member of a clan, a wider community; Jesral Ty’r Plethu is Jesral of the Plethu house, the same as most of her village are.

  So, let’s imagine your Ilmaenese father was called Horben, Vel would be Velohim Hed Horben – two separate words and the emphasis on Hed, to signify he is the eldest son and heir. Both of you – and any other siblings if you had them – would collectively be known as Hedhorbennen – and you yourself would be Renia Lakhorben, a younger daughter. I had a sister, and she was Jastia Laksarol...’

  He lost the thread of what he was saying. Old memories welled up, memories that hurt.

  ‘I'm sorry,’ Renia apologized, on hearing him use the past tense. His attention was recaptured.

  ‘She died a long time ago.’

  ‘But you still miss her.’

  ‘I do. She was much younger than Jastur and I - eight years younger than me; our mother was ill for a long time when I was very young. Then all in the space of a year she seemed better and was expecting a baby. But it was too much for her. She died having Jastia.

  ‘You know how good sometimes comes out of bad? That was Jastia. She was so lovely, inside and out. In looks she was a little doll, all dark hair and big dark eyes; in character she was such a serious child, five going on fifty we used to say. I never saw her squabble over a toy, or lose her temper, and she always seemed to understand how the world worked much better than I. People would do things that baffled me; but she always made sense of them.

  ‘There was fever in Ilmaen about five years ago. Jastia caught it, and she died. She was six.’

  ‘Oh, Kerin…’ He gave a wan smile.

  ‘I took it badly. Worse than when Mother died even. But Father – it was the end of the world for him. He always had to be tough with Jastur and me – we were the men of the family, it was for our own good. So he spent all his affection on Jastia. The last time I saw him, he was a shell of a man though I failed to realize it at the time, too busy wallowing in my own misery. That was why he sent us to Federin, Jastur and me, so that we would not fall prey to the fever as well – and rather than thank him for his care, I hated him for it.’

  He looked over to see how she reacted to such a confession, and felt the hairs on his neck rise. Without thinking he made the sign for a reincarnationist’s dearest wish: rebirth with loved ones. He looked down at his hands, fingers interlaced against his chest, and laughed in astonishment.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘You. That look was Jastia to the core. You must have had the same nurse when you were babies,’ he joked, trying to recover his lost composure.

  ‘I doubt ordinary children over there would have a nurse. If it’s like Mhrydain, I was probably tied to the kitchen table by my baby reins, and fed raisins soaked in gin if I was gripey.’

  He had to laugh. ‘I had no idea Melor had such inventive ways of raising you! We grew up in very different worlds, didn’t we? Ah, here come the other two. Up with you now.’

  oOo

  They made good use of the journey, practising their Ilmaenese as they rode, while at some of their rest stops Kerin and Vel would work on their sword skills. Since Jesral was helping with the language tutoring, brother and sister had a tutor each, and could then swap to try their skills out on a fresh set of ears. The surprise was how much Vel grasped, considering he had, by Melor’s reckoning, only been five when he had left Ilmaen. Renia's progress was not so fast; but she was dogged about it.

  Jesral had given Kerin a severe dressing down for having so far taught them what she called ‘Court Ilmaenese’, when the object was to blend into ordinary society. Now they used common speech patterns, and the one who struggled with that was Kerin.

  They were two days out from the Three Villages and it was late morning. Kerin and Renia were riding le
vel. The bridleway, for it was not big enough to be called a road, passed along a causeway above the marshy river valley. The river traced a curve northwards here, but the causeway passed straight to the east across the marsh to meet the river where it looped back again. The height of the rushes in the surrounding marsh lessened the feeling of being up high, and fair weather and birdsong made the place seem less lonely than a lowering sky would have done. They had seen no sign of anyone tending the causeway and Kerin suspected it was of ancient building. Beneath the horses’ hooves long-forgotten earthworks must be standing up to the elements, impervious to Nature’s onslaughts.

  Behind Kerin and Renia, Vel and Jesral rode together. Renia, Kerin noticed, was trying to follow what Jesral was saying – she was berating Vel for something; Kerin had not picked up all the conversation. Renia was doing too much listening and not enough speaking. He had made her ask questions, to keep her talking; occasionally he was forced to do the asking if she dried up or, as now, became distracted.

  ‘So, Renia. Tell me what you're going to do when we get to Ilmaen.’

  She answered hesitantly, trying to remember the future tense.

  ‘I'll buy some clothes, so that I'll look like an Ilmaenese girl. And… we'll find where... where your brother stays – I don't know the right word there – and we'll... show him the way out?’

  ‘We'll rescue him.’ Kerin gave her the phrase she was looking for.

  ‘Mmm. We'll rescue Jastur. You'll do it, and Vel and I will help you, because Vel is brave and I’m your friend.’ She must have got the words for 'brave' and 'friend' from Jesral, he had not taught her them yet. He certainly would not have taught her the emphasis she put on ‘friend’ – unwittingly, he trusted, unless this was Jesral’s idea of a joke.

  ‘No, no. You must remember where the emphasis comes on words in Ilmaenese,’ he explained in Mhrydaineg. ‘It makes a difference; you can get yourself into real trouble if you don’t pay attention. You wanted to say ‘tamaani', 'friend', yes? You put the emphasis on the last syllable, and it should have been on the second, ‘tamaani’. Swapping the emphasis to other syllables is used on a lot of words to alter the meaning, slightly twisting the sense in which the word is used.’