“What do you know of Casyn?”
“He is great general, they say,” Kolmas replied cautiously, “who won many battles.”
I nodded. “He is a fair man. We will tell him that when you saw the battle was lost, you surrendered, and that you have helped as much as you can. I do not think you need to worry if you accept the Empire’s victory.”
“If the Empire can feed us, many will accept,” he replied, so quietly I had to strain to hear. “Some men said, ask the Emperor to lead us, not fight, but our king said no, fight. So we fought. But to say our king is wrong is treason, so I do not say that. What I think, I keep here.” He touched his chest.
“Say that to Casyn.”
Skua sailed into the cove to drop anchor an hour later. So many prisoners requested the privy once she had anchored that we set up a rotation, taking them out in pairs to see the ship. When the small boat launched, even from our height, I thought I could recognize Casyn and Dern.
The hours passed. We brought all the men inside to feed them. We gave them tea, adding the spices they liked. Their little shows of bravado had given way to a subdued acceptance, and mostly they sat, blankets around their shoulders against the chill of evening, sipping their tea. Kolmas watched them. I had grown to respect him.
I heard the footsteps on the path outside and straightened. The west door opened, and Casyn came in. Dern followed him, and behind him, Gille. Dern’s eyes searched the room. He smiled when they found me. I grinned back, all restraint gone in the relief of seeing them safe. Casyn saw me, too, just a hint of smile touching his eyes.
“Lena,” he said. “You lead the guard, tonight.”
“I do,” I said, hoping I could keep my face suitably schooled.
“I have spoken with the other Cohort-Leaders already,” he said. “Well done. I know there has been sorrow for you, and for the village, but across the Empire the women’s villages prevailed, and the Empire stands. Be proud, Cohort-Leader.”
“Thank you,” I said, unexpected tears pricking at my eyes, all levity gone from me. Casyn’s eyes moved to Kolmas.
“Do you lead these men?” Casyn asked.
“I am Kolmas. I was captain,” he answered. “These men were mine, yes. Some were my crew before. Some came to my boat only to fight. Some were sent to me, soldiers, but they are dead. I did not lead them. But these, yes.” He spoke evenly, with neither pride nor humility. Casyn, nodded in his grave manner.
“I am Casyn, General of the Empire. Leste has fallen. Your king is our prisoner. Your women and children are unhurt. Your men have two choices. Swear fealty to the Emperor and the laws of the Empire, and we will take them home to freedom. Refuse, and they become slaves. Death awaits a rebellious slave.”
“Freedom?” Kolmas said. “To farm and trade, as we have always lived, or to be soldiers of the Empire?”
“You must swear to the laws of the Empire,” Casyn replied. “The Empire requires all men to be soldiers.”
“And our women?” Kolmas asked.
“Will learn to farm and fish, and work metal and wood, as all women of the Empire do,” Casyn said patiently.
“Only this, or slavery?”
“Why should there be choice?” Casyn asked, reason in his voice. “Leste was the aggressor. You invaded. We fought back, and not only kept our own lands but conquered yours. Enslaving you all would have been fair. But instead we offer you freedom for fealty.”
“Freedom? This is not freedom, but I will swear, Casyn General, and I will advise my men to do the same. I do not see choice. Our woman and children are hungry. Do I bend my knee to you?”
“No,” Casyn said. “Speak to your men, first. Tomorrow, we will hear your oaths.” Kolmas nodded, sinking onto his haunches, his eyes shadowed. Casyn turned to me.
“Cohort-Leader,” he said, “you and your guard are relieved. Skua’s men will stand watch tonight.” He stepped aside to let the soldiers who had waited outside enter. As they filed in, Danel flashed me a quick grin.
“Anwyl leads this watch,” Dern said. “Lena, will you explain your routines?”
As succinctly as possible, I told Anwyl, who greeted me with a quick grin, how we managed the guard. Five minutes later, I stepped out onto the porch of the hall where Casyn and Dern had waited.
Casyn stepped forward to grip my shoulder, a military gesture. “I am glad to see you safe,” he said, his smile broader now.
“And I you,” I said. Dern swept me up in a hard, brief hug, which I returned fiercely.
“I heard how Tice died,” he murmured. “I am sorry, Lena.”
I looked from one to the other. “Have you seen Garth?”
“We have,” Casyn said, “but only briefly. We have much to talk about. You need not worry for him.”
“Will he be chained again?” I asked.
“No,” Casyn said. “He will face some hard questions, but no more.”
“Tali,” Dern said, “was most persuasive.” He grinned, his teeth flashing white in the night. Tension drained from my shoulders and neck. I looked down toward the harbour. On the common, bonfires blazed, and I could hear music and laughter. Sudden joy bubbled up in me. It was over.
“Shall we join the celebrations?” I suggested, grinning. “I think I need some wine.”
I pulled myself out of bed the next morning well after the sun had risen. Garth had slept in Pel’s room last night. He had been quiet at the bonfires, leaving early but bidding me to stay.
Downstairs, I drank two mugs of water then set the kettle to boil. I stretched, considering food. I heard footsteps on the porch, and Tali came in, bringing cold air and the tang of woodsmoke with her.
“Good morning,” she said. She had a mug in her hand. “Are you making more tea?”
“Yes, do you want some?”
“I could use another cup.” She put her mug on the table.
“Have you had breakfast?”
“No,” she said. “I don’t want much. What about you?”
“I thought maybe some bread and jam.”
“That would be good.” She took the bread from the bin and sliced it. The kettle sang. I made the tea, setting the table with butter and blackberry jam. Tali brought the plates and knives, and we pulled up chairs.
I spread butter and a spoonful of blackberry jam on the bread and took a bite. The sweet-and-sour of the jam burst against my tongue. I had helped pick the blackberries only a few weeks before. “Lena,” Tali said, when she had eaten her slice of bread and jam, “there is something I want to say to you before you leave.”
“Yes?” I sipped my tea.
“Do you remember how upset Maya was when I had Pel?”
“She thought you should have been loyal to her father, even though he was dead. We had a big fight about it. I told her she was being stupid.” I remembered the shouting and the tears, the extreme passions of twelve-year-olds. We hadn’t spoken for days. In the hugs and kisses of reconciliation, we had taken our first tentative steps towards becoming lovers.
“We had similar arguments,” Tali said. “I would be careful, Lena, of ever letting her know about your relationship with Garth.”
“But we talked about liaisons,” I protested. “We both accepted it. It won’t change things between Maya and me.”
“If this were truly a Festival liaison, I would believe that. But what is between you and Garth seems like more.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
She held up a hand. “Let me finish. Only you can know what’s between you and my son. But can’t you see that Maya would have difficulty accepting it for many reasons? For you to take another lover might be hard enough, but for that lover to be Garth, her beloved and lost brother? She will feel that you have both betrayed her.”
I sat silent. The truth of Tali’s words hurt. “Tali,” I said finally, “it is only because he is Maya’s brother that I could be with him. I said no to Dern. But I won’t tell her. And he too will keep the secret.”
“I thi
nk that is wise.”
I sighed. “Perhaps I should have said yes to Dern and not turned to Garth. But I couldn’t keep being strong alone, Tali, in those days after the killings, and he reminded me so much of Maya.”
“I am not blaming you. We all need comfort and love, and memories are rarely enough. I waited twelve years to have Pel, but his father was neither the first nor the last man I held in my arms during Festival, regardless of my love for Mar. Perhaps Maya will have learned this, too, on the road.”
“Maybe,” I said. The thought had occurred to me in the night hours when sleep would not come. “I hope so. I’d be happier if I knew she was not alone.”
Tali stood. “Come here,” she said. I went into her arms, and she held me tightly for some moments. “Go safely, and be strong. And come back. We need you here.”
“I will,” I said, fighting tears. “I will.”
When she released me, I saw tears glinting in her eyes as well. She smiled. “And now I had best get to work.”
“I need to see Dessa,” I said. “If she won’t lease Dovekie, I’m not sure how I’ll pay for this journey.”
“Oh, I imagine she will,” Tali said. She drained her mug and put it down, turning to leave the room. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tali?”
“Yes?” she said from the door.
“Thanks.”
She nodded continuing on her way. I rinsed plates and mugs, put the remaining food away, then went down the hill to speak to Dessa.
“Aye, I’ll take her,” Dessa said. “But you’ll need to clean her up. I don’t have the hands to do that with building two new boats.” We agreed on a price. I borrowed Freya again and we paddled Dovekie around to a small shingle beach where we could haul her out of the water. Using roller logs, we dragged the little boat well up onto the beach, gently laying her to one side. Barnacles encrusted her bottom. I would need to scrape them off and check the boards and caulking for damage.
“Thanks, Freya.”
“Any time,” she said. “I hope Dessa lets me sail her.” We walked together back to the village before I left her to return to the workshop. Climbing up the hill to the field where the Han horses grazed, I saw Dian and Rasa working in the open door of the barn, Grainne with them.
“Lena!” Dian greeted me. “Have you come to bargain?”
“I have. Good morning, Rasa, Grainne.”
“Good morning,” they answered. Packs and harness lay scattered on the floor of the barn, and two of the horses stood tethered. The mare I wanted grazed in the field.
“It’s Clio you want, am I right?” Dian said. I nodded. She went out into the field to catch the little mare, clipping a rope to her head collar. She walked her over. I put out my hand for her to smell me, then rubbed her neck. I liked the look of her, her compact body and calm eye.
“She’s seven,” Dian said, “well-schooled and gentle, for all she’s trained to war. Let’s get her saddled, so you can try her out.” Rasa brought over a saddlecloth and saddle, quickly tacking up the mare. I swung up into the saddle, riding her out into the fields. She obeyed my hands and legs without protest.
After a few minutes, I turned her head to bring her back to the barn. “She’s an easy ride,” I said, dismounting.
“And built for travel,” Rasa said, patting the mare.
“How much do you want for her?” I asked. Dian looked at Rasa.
“You’ll need the tack, too, right?” Rasa asked.
“Yes.”
Rasa named a price. “The Empire would take her for more,” she said, “but they have more money. If you ever want, bring her back to Han, and we’ll take her back.”
“Or Tirvan could keep her as a broodmare here,” Grainne said, “to improve the stock.”
Rasa laughed. “We’ve given you ideas,” she said. She slipped an arm around Grainne for a quick hug. Grainne leaned into her.
“Lena,” she said, her voice diffident. “You should know. I’m going with Rasa and Dian to Han. I want to learn more about breeding horses and training them. You won’t be the only one leaving Tirvan.”
Surprise made me speechless for a moment. “Does the council know?”
“I told Gille yesterday.”
“Well,” I said, “I wish you luck and safe journey, Grainne. Will you send word, somehow, if you learn anything of Maya?”
“Of course,” she said. “I wish you luck on your journey, too. I hope you find her.”
I walked back to Dovekie without seeing the path. The changes have started already. How strange to think of Grainne leaving. Before this summer, she would have kept on working her hill ponies and talking to the men, spring and fall, about their mounts. If Spring Festival and her ponies’ seasons coincided, she might even breed one or two to a small stallion, if the chance arose. But she never would have talked of leaving, or even thought it possible.
My steps brought me to Dovekie. I surveyed my boat. Not too bad, I thought, assessing the barnacles. I found a comfortable bit of driftwood to use as a stool and took up the scraper. Gulls screamed overhead, and waves lapped the shore rhythmically. I bent to the task.
An hour later, I heard the crunch of footsteps on the shingle. I looked up to see Dern approaching. He wore a leather jacket with the fleece turned inward. I sat up, and he smiled down at me.
“Don’t let me keep you from your work.”
“If I had a second scraper, you could help,” I answered.
“I’ve scraped my share of boat’s bottoms,” he said, grinning. Then his voice changed, losing the levity. “How are you? Truly?”
“I’m...all right. I’m leaving Tirvan to find Maya.”
He nodded. “Your mother told me. She also told me how Tice died. I’m sorry, Lena.” He sat down on a piece of driftwood
“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have sent her back on patrol when she was so angry.”
He sighed. “I too have made bad decisions, as I told you once, decisions that cost friends their lives. So has Casyn. You bear some of the responsibility, Lena, but not all of it. Tice let her anger distract her. Or perhaps the man who killed her was simply better with a knife. You will never know. All you can do is accept the choice you made, grieve for Tice, and go on.”
“I’m trying.”
“It takes time. Going to Karst will help. I’m glad you will have company on the road,” he said. I looked up, startled.
“You gave Garth leave?” Hope leapt inside me.
“I did. He told us of his son. I have given him six weeks, plenty of time to ride to Karst. He is to meet us in Casilla after that.”
I stood. “Thank you, Dern.”
“He earned it. He’s been on duty, in a dangerous situation, for three years. Much of our most valuable information came from him. He earned his pardon and his leave.” He half smiled. “You care for him.”
I nodded. “We both love Maya. It’s a bond, and Tice is, too, in a way.” I thought of the dreams I awoke from, dreams where the boy whose throat I had cut became Tice. Garth brought me back from those dreams, most nights. I straightened, looking down at him. “Dern….”
He shook his head. “There is no more you need to say.” He stood to take me briefly in a soldier’s embrace. “Take care, Lena.” I watched him walk away along the shingle, the crunch of his boots on the pebbles fading as he neared the rocks on the headland. I felt tears in my eyes, for the small sorrow of what I could not be for Dern, and for the joy of what he had given Garth.
Chapter Fourteen
Twenty minutes later, I saw Garth running toward me along the beach. I put the scraper down, standing to meet him. He flung his arms around me and swung me, radiant with relief. “Dern told me,” I said, wrapped in his arms. “I’m so pleased, Garth.”
He kissed my hair. “Did he tell you I will be Watch-Commander on Skua when I join her at Casilla?”
I pulled back so I could look at him. “No,” I said, “He didn’t. I don’t know what that means, Garth.”
“I’ll command a watch, six men. It’s a junior position, but not too junior for my age.”
“An officer’s rank, then?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s so hard to believe, Lena. I never thought I would have a second chance.” He looked suddenly younger. The wind caught his hair, and he laughed. “I never thought I would be so happy to be a soldier, either,” he said. “But I’ve learned where my allegiance lies. I will serve the Empire honourably.”
“You will.” I took his hand. “I bought the mare this morning. We need to practice riding.”
“Dern offered me Tasque for the journey. Casyn is going to check his shoes. You should ask him to check your mare’s, too.” He spoke rapidly, the words bubbling out of him. Like Pel.
“I will. She’s called Clio.” I looked back at Dovekie. “If I don’t finish these repairs, we won’t be able leave when we planned. I need few more hours here, at least.”
He grinned. “I will see to the horses. See you tonight.” He kissed me again, a long kiss. I felt my legs soften.
“Go,” I said, but called after him as he started off the beach. “Garth!”
“What?”
“Have you told your mother?”
“She’s next!” he called back, breaking into a run.
That night, Casyn came to Tali’s house. We sat in the kitchen near the fire, Tali mending Pel’s jacket. She hated sewing and scowled over the work. Garth and Pel played xache. Garth had chosen to teach him the game of war, in part to mollify Pel’s disappointment over having to wait until spring for his father to come for him. I sat watching the two brothers moving the game pieces. The tortoiseshell cat, dozing on my lap, purred as I rubbed her ears. She had adopted Tali, not me, but I had the only free lap. I felt as lazy as the cat.
Tali welcomed Casyn, glad of an excuse to stop her mending. He accepted wine, pulling a chair up to the table. We talked casually of the village’s food supply, the health of the prisoners, strategies in xache. When Garth and Pel finished their game, Tali sent Pel to bed over his protests.
“I’ll take him up,” Garth offered, swinging Pel up out of the chair to carry him up the stairs. Casyn watched them go.
Empire's Legacy- The Complete Trilogy Page 21
