by Clare London
I shook my head, and my tone was harsh. “Everyone needed help to survive here. Women were as one with the men.” I could feel the tension around me, the air tightening as if in a real vise. “The men fell sick, it’s true, but someone discovered a cure. It was given to the babies, the new generation, breeding a hardier kind to survive here in the future. But in the meantime, there’d been many men lost, and the women apparently survived better. So they took control of the group and the cure—and the surviving men. Finally, when there was no other opposition to them at that time, they took control of the world around them.” I twisted Eila’s arm, not harshly, but enough that her Exile brand was clearly visible, the slender figure within the plain border. “This more basic version shows things more clearly. The strange medical symbols are a memorial to the one who discovered the cure. The women supported him at that time, they worked with him. But over time that balance became distorted. This design has been captured and corrupted as a brand for the ruling family, seeking to keep their power by hereditary right.” I turned to stare at Flora. “By the royal family, under the control of a Queen.” I turned again, gazing out at the men and women whose shocked eyes met me from behind her. “Examine your own brands, any of you who may have come from the Royal Household!” I cried. “Look at this woman’s. At your honorable visitor’s! Can you say for certain they show the figure of a Queen—or a mere man?”
“Maen!” Flora cried out beside me.
“That’s the true meaning of the Devotions,” I continued relentlessly. “Devotion to a cause, not to a woman.”
Eila’s eyes were wide and astonished. “This is a child’s tale, a myth you’ve created to confuse us. Maybe you’re still a servant of the city, come to cause chaos among us.”
“Look at your own men,” I said. “They survive without Devotions, don’t they? And the society you have here is returning to that original place, where men and women share influence and power. The generations have passed and the danger of living on this planet without chemical help has passed. You are living proof of the alternative society that can—and should—be supported. The Exiles are the ones who live truly in this world, not the citizens.”
The air around me hung pregnant with restrained, startled breath—then started to hum with the sound of excited people.
“If it’s true….” Eila’s voice began as a whisper then grew more urgent as she turned to Flora. “These documents could be used against the Queen, couldn’t they? Think of their importance, the pressure we could bring to bear! We could use them to obtain better supplies, better conditions. She’d never want anything revealed that might undermine her hereditary position.”
“We need to see these Histories,” said Brod. There was a murmur of assent around him. “These could make all the difference to our position here.”
“Your Queen has had them in her Library for all your life,” I said bitterly. “Only now does anyone pay them attention.”
Flora flushed with anger, but she must have known it was the truth. “Time spent with our young scribe friend has changed you, I see. But Brod’s right, they’ll be of advantage to us, and more than just instruments of blackmail. If we have this evidence, we can seek negotiation with Seleste. We may not even need to proceed with our attack.”
Suddenly a new voice cut through our discussion: Veli. Brod hovered possessively at her shoulder. The eyes of both of them were full of hostility and suspicion toward me. “The Gold Warrior can fetch them for us,” she said, her voice carrying clearly across the group. “He knows his way in and out of the city and the way the Guard works. He’s brought up the subject of these documents, yet where are they? Do they exist, or is it some elaborate lie to undermine our attack? Make him fetch them back here. Make him pay for the trouble he’s bringing down on us, bringing the Guard in pursuit to the camp.”
“No one knows I’m here except for the scribe,” I said.
She laughed loudly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Maen, they’ll find you this time. The Queen won’t be humiliated twice. I know what happened to you both, remember, when you returned to the city last time. I’ve heard the whole story. But if you go back now, you can hold off any attack on us until we’ve made our own. Maybe you can bring these mysterious documents out to us so we can really hold her to ransom. How many of us truly believe your loyalties have changed, or even that they can? Prove it to us.”
“No,” I said. Almost everyone had turned to stare at me now, their feet shuffling on the bare ground as they moved, their faces confused or confrontational. I stared straight at Flora, determined to make my position clear to her. “I won’t go back. I’ve made my choice. I no longer report to any of them—to any of you. Kiel can bring the records to you.”
Flora shook her head. “The scribe is loyal, but he’s too inexperienced. And he has no one to ask for help without running the risk of discovery and death. You wouldn’t wish that on him, Maen, would you?” Her eyes glinted in the glimmering morning light.
“You won’t blackmail me that way,” I replied calmly, though fear for Kiel had spiked suddenly in my gut. “You have soldiers of your own. You can send some of them in to remove the records. I can tell you where they are.”
One of the stocky men beside Flora bent to mutter in her ear and she frowned. “They cannot go yet,” she said. “I don’t have any single man with the right skills or sufficient knowledge of the city defenses. I couldn’t guarantee which—if any—of them could get through, let alone approach the Library, steal the records, and then return.”
“You have a poor opinion of the men here. And yet you plan a full attack on the city itself?” I said harshly.
For the first time, she was disconcerted. “We have enough men for an armed assault on the House of Physic. That’s all. We’ve been drawing the city’s attention to the western gate for a few months, to hide our true purpose. I expect the main defense to be concentrated there, leaving the eastern side less protected. Then we’ll rely on our stealth, concentrating our attack on the one location. I know we don’t have the best weapons or the trained men the city breeds. We expect to lose many soldiers, but they’re prepared for that. They always are.” Her expression was disturbed. “They’ve been readying themselves for this, Maen. We’ll move on the city in only a few days’ time. We need the supplies stored at Physic. We need to take control of that Household, if only for a limited time. We don’t have the resources to release part of the force for another mission, not now.”
“We?” My voice was cold. To me, the strategic issues were clear. “Are you now the leader of this camp? What choice is it, between an intelligence mission that might bring you priceless information, and a foolhardy attack on a part of the city that is most important to its Queen, and is likely to be far better protected than you expect?”
And then Flora laughed aloud, so enthusiastically that everyone turned to look at her instead of me. “I know what my sister sees in you, soldier! Look at the way you rise to the occasion, look at your strength and confidence—the way you dare to criticize me. You’re wasted as her consort, even if she had persuaded you to submit to her.” She shook her head wonderingly. “I never thought she’d show any weakness for a partner, sexual or otherwise, for she was always the least tolerant of our sisterhood and the most determined in her quest for Queenship and power. No one has ever got in the way of that. Until she saw and wanted you.”
The Exiles were muttering, their expressions a bemused mix of fear, anger, and nervousness. The faces were all around me, a pale wash of blurred bewilderment, and yet I was acutely aware of them all. Brod scowling at me, unsure what to believe; Veli’s gaze cast down, still piqued at my refusal to go back to the city on their ludicrous errand; Eila looking between me and Flora with wariness and sudden surprise in her expression—
I felt a shocking, icy wash of fear swamp over me.
“Where is he?” My voice was so loud it cut across their idle chatter and silenced them all.
“Maen.” Flora lifted a
hand as if to mollify me.
“Where’s Dax?” I repeated. He was no longer standing in the middle of the clearing, no longer exhorting his men. I suddenly realized I hadn’t heard his voice for some time. I’d been so engrossed in my argument with Flora.
Veli laughed, a short, ugly sound from such a pretty, fragile-looking woman. Her eyes glinted, no trace of modesty on her face at all. “He’s doing his duty, Gold Warrior. You should know all about that. His duty to his people and the camp and the future of this cursed planet.”
It took only two strides to reach her. I grasped her arm, trying very hard not to surrender to the urge to hurt her. Her eyes were wild, and I wondered suddenly if she were either ill or insane. Brod reached out to throw off my hand, and a couple of the other men around her stepped forward as if to restrain me.
“Hold!” Flora snapped.
Brod looked furious but fell back, and the other men stepped back into the crowd.
“Tell me!” I growled at Veli.
“He’s gone where you didn’t dare,” she snarled back at me. “You told us about those records, about those ancient books and what they might mean to us. You sent him there!”
I stared at her, my limbs starting to shake with both anger and terror.
“I knew you couldn’t be trusted to be truly committed to us,” she hissed. “To him. He’s a better man than any of you! He’s the leader of this camp, not the disgraced Royal Mistress, not any fugitive soldier from the city itself. Hann understands us—he’s given his life to this camp now, not to a dream, not to passion, not to you!” She glanced quickly around, moistening her lips. “He heard everything you told us. So while you were weaving your sick tales, he was realizing for himself that if the books were real, possessing them could prevent the raid—could save the lives of our soldiers. But they obviously had to be recovered and brought here, and by someone who knew the city, who knew the Guard.” She sucked in a breath as if triumphant. “Hann had already decided there was only one person suitable to go.”
“He’s gone back to the city?” I didn’t need to ask, but the words slipped out unbidden.
She glared back at me. “It took him no time at all to decide what to do. He’s already gone. He’s always been that way, he’s—”
“Impetuous,” I hissed.
“Decisive!” she replied spiritedly. “And he’ll be successful too. How can you compare with him? You’re meant to be such a mighty Warrior, but you refused to help him out by getting them yourself. I heard the way you talked to Flora, and you talk that way to Hann too. You’ll take his body when you like, but you won’t offer to do his work!”
I think I’d have struck the stupid, misguided woman then, but Flora moved between us and I had to let go of Veli. “He’s done the right thing, Maen. He’s a fine soldier and an intelligent man, it won’t take him long, I’m sure. And this could mean all the difference to us. Such evidence would be such a valuable weapon against the Queen. As both I and Veli have said, an opportunity for negotiation between us rather than battle.”
“Or for blackmail, as Eila suggested?” I ground out my words through gritted teeth. I was already assessing the paths out of the camp, judging where he might have gone, how long ago. “You would hold her to ransom, indeed. You’re no better than her. You want the city for your own, admit it!” I turned on Flora, watching her flinch away from my anger. “You’d have taken the Queenship willingly yourself, and would you have been any better a regent?”
Flora was pale, and several of her former soldiers moved threateningly toward me. “I won’t deny I wanted to be Queen. But if what you tell me is true—no woman could continue to rule without challenge.” Her breathing was shallow, but her gaze was steady. “I welcome this, soldier, you have to believe me. I welcome the chance to change this world, but I need the leverage. Else she’ll kill me the minute I step foot in that city again.”
“That’s your problem alone,” I said, cold as stone.
“No, Maen.” She shook her head sadly. “You are not so naive. If you want the chance to live in peace with Dax, it’s your problem too.” She glanced around at the faces watching us, all of them shocked and many of them scared by the conflict. “We all need this. We need to be involved, we need to be heard. And Seleste will never hear us unless we can bring some threat to bear against her. For that matter, she’ll never release you—never allow you any other life. You know that’s true, and so does Hann. When he brings the records back, we can study them, and hold off any military attack until I’ve had a chance to talk to Seleste. They’re the key to bringing the Exiles back into the city, and the people of this planet back to a single representation. Isn’t that what you were preaching a moment ago?”
“No!” I cried out, suddenly frightened and angry at the words we were speaking that were all useless, irrelevant—and were wasting my time. “I can’t live in peace with the man I want when you’ve thrown away his life! However good he is, he’ll be recognized in the city—he can’t blend in either as a soldier or as a servant. He’s in terrible danger, and if he’s taken, he’ll endanger you all. He’s never been a servant of the Royal Household, never been in the position to have learned its geography or its ways. You need an agent who knows exactly what’s needed, exactly how the city and its people act. Who knows the relevant Histories, who can find his way around, who has the measure of the Royal Household—and who’s known with a degree of influence.”
She gazed back at me, her eyes dark. For a strange, suspended moment, we stood staring at each other, our spectators stunned into silence alongside us.
“Your determination is a worthy match to your sister’s,” I hissed finally. “I will go back with him.”
“Of course you will,” she said softly. Her voice wasn’t without pity. “This is your chance, Maen, to change the city in the only way that will allow the pair of you to be together.”
“I will go back.” My tone was firm enough to halt all their talk. “I’ll fetch the records and bring them to you here. Give me weapons and a scout to take me back to the cairn, and do it now. I’ll make sure Dax is safe and returns as your leader.” I turned sharply, scattering the men who had gathered around me, curious and fascinated by the ghastly scene. “But that will be the last soldiering I do for either the Exiles or the city that isn’t at my own wish.”
My heart beat painfully fast and my anger was too close to the surface for me to think as clearly as I would have liked. I needed to get moving, to catch him up—to save him.
“I swear that to you all!” I called. “With the oath of a Gold Warrior!”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I REACHED sight of the city walls faster than I ever had before. I passed the cairn and took little notice of the Exile scout running back like a scared rabbit in the direction of the camp, before he could be noticed by anyone from the city. Moving onward, I was desperate to find Dax’s trail. He could travel this terrain so much better than I could. He’d been injured recently, it was true, but he was younger and faster than I was, and he might already have reached the walls. He might be inside the Household; he might be in custody.
He might be dead.
I stopped, crouching down to minimize my outline on the bare mountain slope, breathing too heavily, and conscious I was losing control of myself. I’d get us both killed if I couldn’t contain my panic. But finding Dax again after losing him, and after believing he was dead, was both the best and the worst thing in my life. The best thing because I’d truly come alive again, but the worst thing because now I couldn’t face the thought of him stepping back into mortal danger alone. If he died….
So would I, this time.
I searched around and found a low overhanging ridge that would offer some cover until I could establish which path he’d taken. I crawled sideways underneath it and took some water from the small skin the Exile scout had given me. While it was unlikely anyone would spot Dax on the rocks at this distance, if he’d taken the direct route back down to the wal
ls—the one that our assumed rescuers had taken us a year ago—he’d walk right into the Guard. I knew other ways through, thanks to Kiel and his devious communications with Mistress Flora, but I had no idea whether either of them had shared that information with the Exiles.
And then something alerted me, a tingle of nerves down the back of my neck. I turned to face back out over the scrubland, still crouching but with my hand on the sword Brod had lent me.
“What are you doing here?”
It was Dax, climbing his way down from the cairn.
“THIS IS madness.” Maybe I hadn’t chosen the best way to greet him, but I spat the words out before I could calm myself. I was a clumsy, anguished mixture of relief and anger. “Where were you hiding? There’s nowhere that’s secure enough in daylight. You’ll be seen too easily.”
He frowned. “Go back to the camp. You’re the one who mustn’t be seen here, or you’ll face execution. I didn’t ask you to follow me.”
“Nor did you tell me you were thinking of walking straight back into the city that condemned you to death a year ago—”
“Maen, please!” His face reflected both annoyance and distress. Then when I started to move out from under the overhanging rock, he held out a hand to restrain me and crawled under there to join me. He’d armed himself since we left the cave this morning, with a good quality sword at his back and a short dagger in the side of his belt, but nothing too heavy. He meant this mission to be a short one, to travel light so he could bring back the Histories.
“How did you think you were going to do this?” I couldn’t keep the fury out of my voice. “You left on a whim—on Veli’s whim, it seems. To my knowledge, you’ve never been to the Royal Household or the Library, nor have you any idea whether you’ll be retrieving a slim volume or a pallet full of paper. You don’t know what Guard is placed around the building or the timing of their shifts, whether the scribes are armed or alert to invasion in any way, you have no way to contact us if there’s any change of plan or unforeseen trouble—”
