Shadowless: Book 1 of the Ilmaen Quartet

by Helen Bell

  He charged the man five hundredths, quite a high sum, but the customer did not quibble. Naylan managed to keep the surprise off his face until the man had gone, then leant across to speak to Kerin.

  ‘Sure I can’t interest you in joining the partnership, lad?’ he enquired, eyeing the money meaningfully.

  ‘I’m afraid not.’ Kerin grinned as he reached for the takings pocket on his work apron. Naylan dismissed the need for it with a wave of his hand.

  ‘Ah, go on, you pocket that yourself, lad.’ Kerin did with thanks, mindful of their lack of cash. Naylan had talked this past evening about wages, but he clearly would not be able to pay much and Kerin was thinking of the future. He did not like to tempt fate, but they had to be ready to spirit Jastur away and lie low. He knew how to live off the land, and Vel would be able to add a few more tricks to his. Even so living like that was tough on a fit body; and Jastur seemed likely to come out of Karn in a bad state. He wished Renia had been clearer on that. Her concern for Jastur continued to nag at him.

  Naylan leant across him, ostensibly to tidy the goods on display, and murmured, ‘Laddie is back.’

  To Naylan, Kerin was 'lad' and he used 'laddie' for Vel. 'Laddie' usually involved more decibels, as though Naylan thought Vel was deaf rather than unfamiliar with his language. This time Naylan simply nodded Vel an acknowledgement of his return and turned away. Kerin looked at his friend's face, and saw why; there were no words to bring comfort to such complete distress.

  He will ask to go on to the next port, Kerin suddenly thought, his previous faith in his friend gone and his heart sinking; and I must tell him no. He stood and waited for the question to come.

  ‘Kerin –’ Vel forced the words out ‘– what's the one possibility we didn't allow for?’

  He tried to fit a possibility to Vel’s expression, and horrible realization dawned.

  ‘The ship foundered?’

  ‘A ship sank, the night of the storm.’ Vel clarified the doubt, but his face spoke of hopelessness. ‘About a mile south-west of here. There were no survivors, no positive identification of the ship by the authorities.’

  ‘It might not have been the Dawn Wind then.’

  ‘The flotsam that's been thrown up: it's the same cargo as the Dawn Wind was carrying.’

  ‘You still can't be sure. Look…’ Kerin nearly made the offer, stopped himself. He couldn’t do it.

  ‘No. You were right; we've wasted too much time. Let’s not lose Jastur as well. We should turn east now – I think we should start today.’

  Kerin went and asked Naylan quietly if it would be inconvenient to move on. Naylan shook his head; business was slow here. He gazed keenly back at Kerin.

  ‘It's more than just not finding them, isn't it?’

  ‘Yes. He found out that a ship sank near here, the night of the storm.’

  ‘Your ship?’

  Kerin shrugged in angry uncertainty.

  ‘Hell only knows; the harbour authorities don't. But it had the same cargo. Damn, I don't know what to think. But he's upset, and wants to get out of here.’

  ‘All right. I sent Bighur for his lunch; as soon as he's back, we can start winding down. We'll eat at an inn before we go and get a good stiff drink down Laddie, eh? Ah, talk of the little devil, here comes Bighur now.’

  They broke the stall down and left Bighur to mind the wagon while they went to eat and drown Vel’s sorrows. Naylan offered Kerin a drink too, and to his surprise found himself asking for mulled wine. He never drank mulled wine. Except that one time…

  Renia had been a comfort to him that night, just sitting there. But she had thought he had asked her to stay to talk, and so she had felt obliged to say something. He looked at Vel, a picture of misery, and felt the same urge to talk himself. Yet there was nothing he could think to say or ask that would not be painful, so he did not. If it had been the Dawn Wind that foundered, and they were gone – the thought hollowed him out, and he could not get past it.

  Naylan brought over a tray of meat, gravy and fried vegetables, and a trencher each to eat it off. They picked at it wordlessly, pushed most of it aside. The landlord came to clear away, and Naylan ordered another round of drinks, which seemed to go down far easier.

  ‘Gentlemen, do you mind if I make some observations, and a suggestion?’ Naylan said at last. ‘We seem to have done all right together, the four of us, but it’s not much farther till we’re due to split up. You seem to want to keep out of sight of the authorities, and I’m not going to ask why; what I don’t know can’t hurt me. I know you’ve got this business in the east that won’t wait and you don’t want to talk about it too much, but if we can keep things going as they are, it’s worth our while for Bighur and me to go east too. If that’s any use to you?’

  Kerin took in what he said, and started to turn to Vel, who put out a hand.

  ‘Don’t even waste time asking me. I’m a fool and the reason we’re not halfway there already.’ He turned to Naylan. ‘I’m sorry I can’t act more grateful for your offer due to the circumstances, but we accept.’

  oOo

  Four days later it was a relief to all on the wagon when they started up out of Parri Citywild. It had reduced the journey time a little, cutting across it rather than going around it; still none of them had enjoyed it much, conscious that they crossed a land of ancient tragedy. A place where once men had built a city so great it held people beyond numbering and then other men had eradicated all life and sign of the city in the Catastrophe, scouring it down to bedrock and beyond. It was a place harmless in itself, but inhospitable; the topsoil was so fragile it would not tolerate farming, and so the area remained a wilderness, one vast boggy heath populated only by herds of wild horses and sheep. The River Sen flowed from it; they had followed the river upstream until it turned to fenland where the Catastrophe weapons had disrupted its course. Vel knew of other Citywilds; Melor and the villagers had spoken of Hampton, which had once been a great port. This was the first time Vel had seen one, and the size was numbing. Up ahead you could, at a distance, make out the transition point where trees began to grow again and know the Citywild was ending. They were within an hour's journey of the edge now; the wild herds did not venture out to graze this close to man and that meant bigger shrubs could grow to either side of, and sometimes on, the barely visible track through the gorse.

  As Naylan followed it, Vel looked back. It was a fair day and seeing was clear, but the edge they had come from was far out of sight, a day and a half’s travel away. And they had only clipped the northern edge of the Citywild; it must be two, three days across the middle. He tried again to envisage how many people it would take to fill it, and then crowded that number on top of itself hundreds of times, just as the city had piled storey upon storey. How terrible, to live like that; how awful, to have so many lives snuffed out in an instant. It felt, as Naylan said, as though this place resented humans after such unchecked destruction. Vel had been to places where the people had made him feel unwelcome, but never before to one where the land itself did.

  Naylan certainly had not wanted to come, doubting the chances of a ferry across the river this near the Citywild and voicing grave concern about how passable the track would be. Kerin had been firm and was proved right. To have taken a more northerly road or headed for the better but more travelled road to the south would have added time he was not prepared to spare. Cutting out a few stubborn bushes blocking the track was a job that Kerin and Vel took upon themselves to do, and Naylan joined them for the last few, seeing how much travelling time had been saved. In the end they had endured no worse than a sobering experience, one they gladly put behind them now.

  Once past the Citywild, they headed north-east to rejoin the main road. Time had been saved, but now they had next week’s meals to earn. They stayed a full day at one town, a day and a half at the next, and stocked up the last afternoon with the intention of making a long run before the next stop. However Naylan’s wagon was feeling the strain of the
route, the extra passengers and additional stores. They had to stop again at the next town for parts to repair a wheel, and that took all their spare money.

  Since it was a bright day and a small, quiet town they took the chance to do a little more business after the wagon was repaired, but it looked as though it might have been a mistake.

  ‘Ho! Is caravan coming,’ sharp-eyed Bighur announced. Fifteen or so brightly coloured wagons entered the square and made a circle nearby. ‘They circus people! We get some fun tonight?’

  ‘No, Bighur,’ Naylan replied. ‘We need to stay ahead of them. If they're going our way, they'll hold us up for too long. We’ll shut up shop as soon as we get a chance.’ He turned to Kerin, aware of his hurry if not his purpose, and pointed out, ‘It'd look odd if we passed up the chance for their business, and caravanners do gossip. Hopefully they won’t want much doing, but if they do, you two stay on the stall and keep yourselves to yourselves. Stand around and have a beer or something; the more you make business look slack, the slacker it’ll be. I’ll manage them.’

  Two of the caravanners were eying the wagon and came over. One was an eye-catching man, smartly dressed: dark and lean with flashing black eyes. Naylan stepped away from the stall to greet them; they spoke for a while, then Naylan and the man shook hands before the man strode away and Naylan headed back to the wagon.

  ‘Bighur!’ Naylan roared, and Bighur trotted obediently after him as he went up the wagon steps. There was much clattering and cursing inside, until they emerged carrying a portable grindstone.

  ‘Who’d have a knife-throwing act and nothing to sharpen the knives?’ Naylan muttered grimly. Bighur said nothing, too busy struggling with his end. They staggered over to the ring of wagons and began setting up. Caravanners approached them from all directions; there looked to be a score or more knives to sharpen.

  Vel sighed. ‘I’ll get us some beers, then,’ he murmured and ducked under the stall counter.

  He returned with two bottles from their stores; opened them both deftly and passed Kerin one. He had just taken a pull from his when he stopped short and looked back at the circle of caravans.

  ‘What is it?’ Kerin asked.

  ‘It’s Jez!’ said Vel in disbelief.

  ‘Where?’ Kerin tried to follow where he was looking.

  ‘Just going into that blue and grey wagon.’

  Kerin found the wagon he meant, just as the door shut. ‘Ah, I didn’t see. Vel? …Vel!’

  He had put the bottle down and was striding purposefully towards the wagon. Kerin dared do no more than that fierce whisper or he would risk drawing attention.

  Too late. Vel was managing to draw enough attention on his own. He had barely entered the ring of caravans before he was challenged by the dark man. Naylan had seen what was going on; Kerin lipread his silent oath as he hurried over to intervene. There was a brief conversation, polite on the dark man’s side, urgent on Vel’s. The man suddenly drew himself up, offered Vel entry to the circle with a flourish and watched him hurry to the blue and grey wagon. Then he turned and the flashing black eyes looked directly at Kerin for several seconds before glancing away.

  Kerin cursed roundly, ran his eye over the stall’s contents and palmed a long knife.

  oOo

  In Atune's wagon, Jesral was tidying up while Renia finished giving Atune a wash, the old woman holding the bowl on her lap so Renia had both hands free to work. She brought Atune a rag and, not having the words in Ilmaenese, mimed that she wanted Atune to blow her nose on it. Atune muttered something indecipherable and doubtless rude, but when Renia would not give way the old woman forced her weak hand up to take the rag off her, rather than suffer the indignity of having her nose blown for her.

  ‘There,’ Renia declared triumphantly, ‘you can get your arm up if you try. So you can brush your hair yourself as well.’

  ‘Tricksy child. You've been in that one's company too long.’

  Jesral heard, and poked her tongue out at Atune.

  ‘Jez, have you seen Atune's brush?’ Renia asked.

  ‘It's on the shelf above you. Did someone outside just call me?’

  ‘I’m not sure, you spoke over it,’ Renia said, listening hard because the call had caught her attention in some way too. Jesral shrugged and finished folding the last blanket. ‘They can wait till I’m done.’ Then the call came again, much nearer, and the van swayed as the caller ran up the steps and flung the door open.

  Jesral found herself face to face with Vel. The sight struck her dumb. He grabbed Jesral by the shoulders, proving himself no ghost.

  ‘You're all right!’ he gasped. ‘And Ren?’ He caught sight of her then and beamed at her.

  ‘Oh, my God,’ Jesral said in a small voice. ‘My God. I thought you were dead.’ And she burst into tears, flung her arms round his waist and pressed her face against him to try to stop her tears. When it did not work, she let go and caught him a thumping blow across the arm.

  ‘You bastard! Don't you ever do anything like that again, you hear me?’

  ‘I didn’t do it on purpose, Jez,’ he pointed out reasonably. He got his previous treatment in reverse order, a sideswipe first before she hugged him again. He held her uncertainly and looked in bemusement at Renia before noticing Atune with a start.

  ‘My apologies, Ma’am, for bursting in like this, but I’m so pleased to see them again...’

  Atune waved his apology aside.

  ‘You carry on, they need cheering up,’ she told him, so he turned back to Renia. She just sat where she was, the little half-smile on her face starting to turn into the question she desperately needed to ask.

  ‘Yes, he’s all right too. He’s outside,’ said Vel. Jesral disentangled herself from him.

  ‘Oh… I have to go and hit him, too,’ she declared tearfully and hurried out of the wagon. Vel went to sit by Renia, and looked at her in a mixture of wonder, relief and happiness.

  ‘Well, here you are,’ he said. ‘And here are you,’ she responded, and they both smiled inanely, until her eyes started to fill. Her brother patted her hand encouragingly. ‘Hey, don’t you cry on me too. You’ve done well, and we’re fine… everything’s fine now.’

  She struggled against the tears, unable to say anything. He wasn’t very good with her crying, she knew. He looked around in desperation, stood and bowed politely to Atune. ‘Ma’am. Velohim Ty’r Athre, at your service.’

  ‘Ahh. The brother! Nice manners,’ she said in an aside to Renia, who had taken the chance to compose herself. ‘I am Atune Lak Sumin, retired leader of this Company. Sorry this stupid body cannot greet you properly. Stroke, you know. Ah, and Jesral brings the other one…’

  They stepped through the door, Kerin closing it behind them. He surveyed the room, took in Atune in the bed, her birdlike eyes boring into him, and gave her a brief acknowledgement before turning to the others.

  ‘It’s good to see you both again. However, we have a problem. We may need to get out of here quickly.’ He lowered his voice beyond Atune’s hearing. ‘The man you spoke to, Vel. I don’t know him, but he knows who I am.’

  ‘No. No, it’s all right,’ Jesral interrupted. ‘He’s… friendly. His name’s Cedas, he heads the Company. He’s agreed to help us, but he… had to know a bit of background first.’

  ‘You told him,’ Kerin interpreted.

  ‘We thought you were dead,’ she defended herself, and the reminder nearly set her off again.

  ‘Well, it's done now; as long as you’re happy you can trust him,’ He looked to Renia, who sighed. ‘He’s kept faith with us so far,’ she assured him, wondering how she would ever explain the rest.

  Kerin sighed and tried to relax, giving them a tight but genuine smile. ‘It’s truly good to see you again. We had all but given up hope that we would. I dare say it was the same for you.’ He caught Atune still watching him, stood and gave her a more formal acknowledgement than before. ‘Madam, we are disturbing you. It would be more polite of us to take our busi
ness outside.’

  A final parting bow and he led the others out of the door and on to the verandah to continue. Atune caught Renia’s sleeve before she followed, jerking her chin towards the door.

  ‘His manners are a bit slower than your brother’s. He seems to have more on his mind,’ she observed. ‘He's a handsome lad, isn't he?’

  ‘Oh, yes, he's very handsome.’

  ‘Nice to have a good-looking man in my bedroom again, though I can’t help thinking he's a bit too young for me.’ Atune's laughter at Renia’s shocked expression was shrill enough to break glass.

  The others were sitting or standing around the wagon’s verandah when she limped outside.

  ‘She won’t hear us,’ Jesral was telling Kerin, low-voiced. ‘Even if she did, we can trust her. I mean, who’s she going to go and tell? She’s bedridden, for God’s sake.’

  Kerin’s doubt was angering Jesral, aimed as it was at a friend. Renia wanted to defend his cautious approach, because she understood it – but having come to know Atune herself, she was inclined to agree with Jesral. Kerin resolved the problem himself: ‘I am sorry, it is my job to be the suspicious one. I trust your judgment. Sit now and tell us how you two come to be here.’

  They had left space on the verandah for Renia, and she settled there as Jesral related their side of the tale.

  ‘I suppose we're doing the same as you – trying to get to Karn. These people are the ones I travelled with before. We got them to turn away from their normal circuit to take us to Karn. Cedas – he's the one in charge – says he'll help us get Jastur out.’

  ‘So he knows about Jastur too,’ Kerin concluded, one of his statements she could read as an accusation.

  ‘We didn't tell him. Apparently there have been rumours that he is in Karn.’ She glanced at Renia, wondering how much to say about Cedas. ‘We were hoping he would come up with a rescue plan. He was a mercenary some years ago, I thought he might know the best way to storm a fort. I don't know about you, but I had no idea how we were going to get Jastur out.’