Empire's Legacy- The Complete Trilogy

by Marian L Thorpe

She took his wrist, felt his pulse, then laid the back of her hand on his forehead. Tali watched intensely.

  “No fever,” my mother finally proclaimed. “He needs sleep, water, and food.”

  “You are my aunt, I think,” he said quietly.

  “I am,” my mother said. “Gwen. Try to sleep.”

  We waited in silence as Garth closed his eyes, dozing. Tali sat beside him, not quite touching him. I sheathed my knife, watching him, seeing again the resemblance to his sister. I wanted him, very much, to be telling the truth.

  Sara and Gille arrived about twenty minutes later. Garth opened his eyes at their approach, and stood, clumsily, his bound hands hindering him.

  “Garth,” Tali said, fighting to keep her voice even. “Once of the Empire’s seventh regiment. My son. He says he reports to Dern and can speak only to you three.” She turned to go back into the hall, but Gille stopped her.

  “Stay,” she said. “You too, Lena.”

  “Gille,” Tali said. “I can’t.”

  “Come over here,” Gille said, walking Tali further down the porch. Snatches of their words reached me.

  “I cannot let myself believe him,” Tali said. Whatever Gille replied I did not hear, but Tali shook her head.

  “…not after Maya,” I heard.

  “You will witness,” Gille said clearly. “I request it, as council leader.”

  I thought Tali would refuse, but she just nodded, letting Gille lead her back to where we waited. I looked away. I did not want Tali to know I had overheard.

  Gille addressed Garth. “I am Gille, and this is Sara. We are the council leaders, along with Gwen. Whatever you have to say to us, Tali, as your mother, should hear, and I think Lena should, too.”

  He nodded, slowly.

  “I was to speak to the council, but also to anyone else you chose to be present.” He paused, searching for words. “What my mother said is true. I report to Dern.”

  “You are a spy?” Gille spoke calmly without a hint of surprise in her voice.

  “I am. One of maybe a half-dozen on Leste. How I came to serve the Empire in this way is not a pretty story, but I am to tell you the whole of it.” He straightened, looking from Gille to the others. “I was taken from here unwilling, and unwilling I was schooled as a soldier. I had—I have—no talent for fighting. The regiment saw this and offered me training as a medic. But even that was not to my liking. At fourteen, I ran away.”

  Tali gasped.

  “The seventh were on the move along the south coast. There was a trading ship from Leste preparing to sail from one of the retirement farms. I found my way aboard at night. They were happy to take me. Leste does not love the Empire.” He cleared his throat. “May I have some more water?”

  Sara held the cup to his lips. He drank, then thanked her and went on. “For over three years, I worked on that ship and on the jetties of Leste. I grew to like the sea, and I learned the language. Then, nearly four years ago, while we were trading in a harbour along the south coast, Skua arrived. I thought I was safe, dressed as a Lestian, my hair long, and speaking their language. Somehow, Dern recognized me. He had me captured and taken to him. The penalty for desertion is death. He offered me an alternative.” He spoke flatly, without emotion. I hugged myself, listening, thinking of what Dern had told me all those weeks before, of the price paid by those boys who could not bring themselves to serve.

  “For these last few years, I have spied on Leste for the Empire. We trade frequently with the retirement farms, which made it easy enough to leave messages, and I was privy to much of the planning of the invasion. Kolmas trusts me. Also, I am betrothed to his niece.” That startled me. Betrothed? He went on. “Dann was more suspicious and did not want me to be aboard ship, but Kolmas insisted. With my medic’s training, I could care for the wounded.”

  “What did you tell the Lestians about Tirvan?” Tali asked, her voice just barely audible.

  “Nothing.” Garth shook his head. “They do not know this is my birth village. I claimed to have been born inland, so they were not interested. Kolmas had traded here, before I was part of his crew. The invasion plans were based on his recollections.”

  “What were your instructions for the invasion?” Gille asked quietly.

  “To help the village if I could. I was supposed to stay with the catboat; I was going to burn it, but at the last minute Dann ordered me to go with him. He wanted me where he could watch me, I think. I pretended clumsiness on the path and fell twice. Dann lost patience with me and sent me to Kolmas. I slipped over the wall into the field and worked my way up to the caves. I thought if the battle went against you, I might be able to be of use.”

  “What were you promised, if the Empire was victorious?” My mother spoke.

  “A second chance to serve the Empire, aboard Skua,” Garth said, quietly.

  “And you wanted this, or were you more afraid of death?” Tali asked.

  Garth met his mother’s eyes. “When Dern first found me, and offered me the choice of spying or court-martial, I agreed to spy because I knew that the alternative was death. But when Leste began to plot against the Empire, I realized where my allegiance truly lay.”

  “And your betrothed?” I said.

  He flushed. “I had to behave like any Lestian man of twenty to remain unsuspected. I regret the betrothal. She is a gentle girl, who does not deserve such deception. I have done many things I am not proud of in these past few years. I will make redress where I can, if I can.”

  Gille spoke. “The council will confer. Tali, please join us. We will not be long, Lena.” As they walked into the night, I could hear the murmur of their voices, but not the words.

  “Kirthan,” I said, testing the name. He smiled, just a brief movement of his lips.

  “That is how ‘Garth’ is rendered in Lestian. Tice is your friend?”

  “And my cohort-second,” I said. “I don’t know if you can make sufficient redress, there. That is between her and you, and the council.”

  I leaned back against the wall of the council hall. My reaction to him confused me. He confused me. He is so much like Maya, and yet not. A gentle breeze moved the air. The moon sank closer to the sea. Inside, I could hear movement, and the occasional moan from an injured prisoner.

  “Where is Maya?” Garth asked suddenly.

  I straightened. “Gone. She chose exile, rather than fight.”

  “But you stayed?”

  “You are not the only one looking for a second chance, Garth,” I said angrily. “When this is over, I will find her.”

  “I missed her so much, those first years. I hoped to see her again.”

  When the council returned, Gille spoke. “We think it best,” Gille said without preamble, “that you are kept in custody, Garth, for two reasons. While we are inclined to believe your story, until we have confirmation from Dern, we cannot be entirely convinced. And secondly, were you to be given your freedom, your role would become immediately apparent to the other prisoners. We would not endanger your life. We will chain your hands and feet, loosely enough to allow you some movement, and confine you to a cottage under guard.”

  “It is fair.”

  “No it’s not,” I said, indignant. “Mother, Gille, he’s telling the truth. I know he is.”

  “Is he?” Gille said sternly. “He admits to a web of lies, Lena, going back many years.” She softened. “I said we were inclined to believe him, but you must see we have to be sure.”

  I looked from her to Garth. “It is fair,” he repeated.

  The spurt of anger Gille’s words had engendered subsided. If Garth thought it fair, why should I argue? I nodded. “Where?” I asked.

  “The forge cottage,” Gille said. “It’s far enough from the hall and easy to guard.”

  Tali chained his feet, loosely enough to allow him a shuffling walk, her deft fingers finding ways to touch her son briefly. I unbound his wrists and let him eat the bread and cheese and apples Sara brought. Then Tali loosely shackle
d his arms again, and we escorted him to the forge cottage, matching our pace to his slow shuffle. He stumbled once, and I put out a hand to steady him. My fingers tingled where I had touched him.

  At the cottage, he lay down on the bed, chains clinking, and closed his eyes. Tali covered him with the blanket.

  “We’ll send someone to keep watch,” Gille said. “Tali, Lena, watch him till then.”

  Do they not trust me alone with him? Then I saw Tali’s face, watching Garth, trying for impassivity and failing. “He is so like Maya,” I said. She nodded. Did she see the resemblance to Maya, or to Mar, their father and her dead love? Or just her son. In the normal course of events, she would never have seen him again after he was sent, drugged and unknowing, with the men. I left her with him and went out into the night.

  When a swordswoman came to take the first watch, I briefed her on the limits of his freedom. Tali joined us outside. The first hint of dawn lightened the eastern sky as we walked down the hill. At the meeting hall, I poured a cup of tea from the ever-present kettle, going back outside to where I could see the training ground from the porch. I sat on the bench, sipping the hot, sweet tea. My arm throbbed, and I could not get warm. I looked at my hands. I had killed two men in the last twenty-four hours, cut both their throats, one in a fair fight, one in pity. I had trained and practiced, yet the last day felt like a dream. Months of training seemed to have more substance than one day of battle.

  I should not have refused Dern, I thought. I had wanted love, not realizing that the comfort, and perhaps the pleasure, would have been enough. I wish I had said yes. When had I last touched someone, except to correct a hold, or to console? Or to kill.

  I sat, struggling to sort out my feelings, as Salle approached from the northern edge of the village. I greeted her and sent her in for tea. One by one, the women of my cohort arrived. When most were present, we moved out to the training ground. The eastern stars had faded quickly. Somewhere a cock crowed. Ten of us stood on the field. Freya, wounded and resting, made eleven.

  “Has anyone seen Tice?” I asked. No one had. Somewhere out there, the last man waited, hidden. “Sleep,” I ordered. “Half of you until noon, half until tonight.”

  I sent the cohort to their beds, with much grumbling from Camy and Aline, and waited for Tice. As the sky changed from dawn grey to blue, a knot of apprehension tightened in my gut. I waited another ten minutes, then reported to Gille, to begin a different search.

  I walked down under the willows, wondering if Tice had fallen asleep in the branches. Finally, I spotted her leaning against a trunk, not sixty feet from where I had sent her back on patrol. “Tice,” I called. “Wake up!”

  She did not move. “Tice,” I shouted again. A wave of fear washed through me—fear and cold certainty. I grabbed a branch to swing myself up into the tree, climbing quickly. I put out my hand to touch her, feeling the chill of her dead flesh.

  “Tice!” I tried to turn her towards me. My hands found the knife, embedded in her back. “Oh, Tice,” I moaned. I leaned forward, resting my head on her shoulder. My hand found hers and held it.

  I had sent Tice back on patrol when I knew her anger might distract her. Clearly and coldly, I analysed what I had done. I had sent her back when I should have sent her home, and I had done so to prevent a confrontation between her and Garth that I did not want to have to handle. I had failed as a leader. The thought turned my heart to lead. I let go of her hand, placing it so it did not dangle helplessly, and sat up. I pulled the knife from her back. The blade gleamed with blood. A drop fell on my hand. I threw the knife into the earth beneath the tree, wiping my hands on my tunic. I could not move her by myself. I would wake Salle. My cohort alone would handle this.

  Salle and I lowered Tice’s body carefully down from the willow, placing it on the stretcher. Then we carried her through the village to her cottage. My mother waited. I had gone to tell her, and fetch the stretcher, while Salle dressed. We laid Tice on her bed, and then I sent Salle away. I removed her clothes, and my mother and I washed the body and dressed it again. We worked in silence except for brief words of instruction or direction.

  When we finished, we sat at the kitchen table. The cat was nowhere to be seen. “Mother,” I said. “Tice told me of her son.”

  “We will send word to Karst. Do not worry yourself. You are exhausted and need sleep.”

  “There is more, though. Did Tice speak of the father to the council?”

  “Only that he was a Lestian trader,” she replied. “We did not need to know more, as he was not of the Empire.” She sighed. “Tice was very private, Lena, as you must know.”

  “Yes, but she told me the father’s name. She said he was a young Lestian, called Kirthan. But the boat was Kolmas’s, Mother, and Kirthan is the Lestian form of Garth.”

  My mother looked at me, startled. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded, tiredly. “Yes. She told me of it weeks ago, a few days before Skua sailed. But when she and I captured Garth, Mother, she called him Kirthan, and he acknowledged her.”

  “He will have to be told of the child,” my mother said, slowly, “but not yet.”

  “Will you tell Sara and Gille?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But not Tali, not yet. Nor must you, Lena.”

  “I won’t,” I said. There were footsteps outside. Casse came in the door.

  “I will sit with her, Lena,” she said quietly. “You need to rest.”

  “Thank you, Casse,” my mother said, before I could protest. She touched my shoulder. “Come, Lena. You must sleep.”

  I let my mother lead me away as if I were a child again. My body, heavy and cold and slow, seemed to take a long time to respond to my thoughts. Outside in the cool morning breeze, I stopped on the path. “I can’t sleep,” I said, almost petulantly. “We have a hunt to finish.”

  “You must sleep,” my mother said. “You are wounded and exhausted. I am ordering you, Lena, as a council leader. Name a cohort-second.” I stared at her, shocked, before the simple practicality of her words sank in.

  “I would have chosen Freya, but it will have to be Salle, now.”

  “Then tell her,” my mother said. “Brief her on tactics, if you can think clearly enough. Then I’ll treat that arm and give you just enough poppy to let you sleep for a few hours. You can lead the search this evening if it’s still needed.”

  I agreed, reluctantly, and with my mother beside me went to wake Salle for the second time. We found her sitting on the porch of the cottage she shared with her sister, Kelle.

  “I need you to be cohort-second, Salle,” I said, after she had greeted us. “And I will need you to lead the search this afternoon.”

  “What would you have me do?” she asked, calmly.

  “Concentrate on the edges of the village, the outbuildings and field barns.” I struggled to think past the fog in my brain. “He’s probably been watching. He’ll have seen us searching in the village.” She nodded, understanding. “Work in pairs. I want no one on her own.” Too late, a voice in my mind said.

  “Grainne and the horsewomen are patrolling the higher fields,” Salle said. “The women preparing graves are guarded by archers. And we’ll be searching the village. Our man will feel harried. Perhaps he’ll make a wrong move.”

  “Perhaps.” Fatigue closed in on my muscles and my mind. I let my mother lead me away. She took me home, to the room where I slept as a girl, and gave me a small cup of wine, warmed and dosed with poppy and other herbs. I did as she told me, though I felt like a husk, hollow and dry. She undressed me, bathed my arm, and bandaged it. Somewhere during that treatment, I slept.

  When I woke, the sun had begun its western descent. In the half-light of the room, a fragment of dream still made disturbing images in my mind: Maya coming home, changed almost beyond recognition. Then I remembered. Tice. The hollow inside me widened into an abyss. I sat up quickly. The room swam. I waited until it stopped then stood, stripped off my clothes, and washed.

  Dr
essed again, I went out to the kitchen. A kettle simmered on the stove, and a mug with dried leaves and honey sat ready on the table. I poured in the water, stirred. My arm felt stiff, but less painful. I flexed it tentatively. I sipped the tea. Anash. I reached for the honeypot to spoon in more, to counteract the bitterness.

  Outside, the day was cool, with a slight haze and a strong on-shore breeze. I walked up to the meeting hall. Around the inner periphery of the octagonal hall, Lise and Casyn had drilled eyebolts deep into the structural timbers. The prisoners stood or sat, shackled to the eyebolts. The severely injured lay on pallets in the centre of the hall. Six women stood guard, escorting pairs of prisoners, chained at hands and feet, out to use the privy and get some exercise. Casyn had estimated that Skua would not return for five or six weeks. We could not keep healthy men constantly chained to the wall for that long a time. These Lestians were no soldiers. Dann and his men would have struggled against the chains, but they had died at the forge. These others, shocked by their defeat and seeing their captain cooperate with Gille, followed his lead.

  Gille was studying a list as I came in. “Food stores,” she said briefly. “We have twenty-odd extra mouths to feed.” Her face softened. “Lena, I am so sorry. Tice found a friend in you, I think, as well as a cohort-leader.”

  “Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling.

  She looked at me sharply. “Are you all right?’

  “I dreamt Maya came home, but I almost couldn’t recognize her. From the poppy, I suppose.”

  “Probably,” Gille agreed. “And not surprising, given how much Garth looks like her.”

  Garth.

  “Lena?’ she asked, concern on her face.

  “I had forgotten about him.” Confusion flooded through me. Yesterday, he had been all I could think of. “How could that happen?”

  “You were shocked and exhausted, and we gave you poppy. He became confused with Maya in your sleeping mind. Nothing more, or less, than that, Lena.”

  “Is he still at the forge cottage?” I could see him in my mind, in the moonlight, with Tice’s knife vibrating in the wall of the barn above him. I remembered her anger, and my response.