†††††
The lower slopes of the Durrains were still in shadow, the sun not yet over the peaks. My pack lay on the grass, beside Cillian’s, a bird bow and arrows strapped to it. Bedrolls hung below the packs, and two walking staffs leaned against a boulder.
“The track will take you up to some meadows,” the soldier holding our horses said. “There’s good hunting there, mountain hare and deer and grouse. There are game trails leading out of the meadows, but where they go?” He shrugged. “There are lots of stories. Some of them may be true. I guess you’ll find out.” He paused. “I envy you that.”
I looked up at the path, bending out of sight among the boulders and the scrubby trees. Snow clung to the peaks, even now, halfway to summer. Cillian stood beside me, saying nothing. Part of me wished I was going alone; part of me knew that would be folly. I still did not know if I liked him, or could trust him. I was wary of his cynicism and his cold, tactical, thinking, but I had no choice. He was my companion in exile, at least until we crossed these mountains. If we crossed these mountains. He probably felt the same about me.
I turned back to the soldier. “Any advice, Galen?” I asked.
“Stay together. Stay dry. Take it slowly. The higher you go, the harder it is to climb. Let your body get used to it. You’re not in any hurry; remember that.”
I nodded. “You will send word?” I said.
“I will,” he said. “I have your letter. And if the Emperor will allow me to ride as his messenger, I’ll go, tell her how proud she should be of you.”
Another half-truth. Better that way, I thought. Maybe half-truths were all we ever had, as Callan had suggested. I picked up the pack, shrugging it onto my shoulders, adjusting the straps. Beside me, Cillian did the same. I reached for my staff, settling my hand around its smooth surface, looping its leather strap around my wrist. I looked up at the path before me. A memory rose, a stone hall, morning light, words spoken: What may still lie beyond the mountains and the seas. Deep inside, I felt a frisson of anticipation, almost excitement.
“Lena,” my father called. I turned.
“Go with the god,” he said. “Both of you.”
I nodded. I glanced at Cillian. He gestured me forward. I turned back to the path, away from the Empire, away from Linrathe, and began to climb.
The Characters of
Empire’s Hostage
Characters who are a direct part of the story are in bold.
Characters who are mentioned by name but not directly a part of the story are in plain type.
Ardan – a man of Linrathe, Lieutenant to Donnalch
Ǻsmund – a prince of Varsland, brother to Fritjof
Bartol – the Eirën of Bartolstorp in Linrathe
Birel – Casyn's soldier-servant
Callan – the Emperor
Caro – a cook for the Empire's army
Casse – a retired Council-leader of Tirvan
Casyn – a General of the Empire, Callan's brother
Cillian – a man of Linrathe,
attached to the Ti'ach na Perras
Colm - Callan's twin and advisor
Cormiac – an officer of the Empire
Dagney – the Lady of the Ti'ach na Perras,
scáeli and teacher
Darel – a Cadet of the Empire, Turlo's son
Daria – a trader of Karst
Dern – the Captain of Skua
Dessa – a boatbuilder of Tirvan
Dian – a Guardswoman of the Empire, from Han
Donnalch – the Teannasach of Linrathe
Elga – a fisherwoman of Berge
Finn – a Lieutenant of the Empire
Fritjof – Härskaran of Varsland
Galen – Lena's father, a border scout
Garth – a Watch-Commander of the Empire,
Maya's brother
Gregor – a soldier of Linrathe
Gwen – a midwife and healer of Tirvan, Lena's mother
Halle – a Guardswoman of the Empire, from Karst
Herlief – Härskaran of Varsland, deceased;
father to Ǻsmund and Fritjof
Huld – a woman of Bartolstorp
Ianthe – a woman of Karst, Tice's sister
Isa – a cook at the Ti'ach na Perras
Jordis – a student at the Ti'ach na Perras
Kebhan – a boy of Linrathe, son to Lorcann
Kira – a woman of Tirvan, Lena's sister
Kyreth – an apprentice healer of Berge
Lara – a girl of Tirvan, Siane's daughter
Leik – a prince of Varsland, Fritjof's son
Lena – a Guardswoman of the Empire, from Tirvan
Lorcann – a man of Linrathe, brother to Donnalch
Marta – a midwife and healer of Berge
Maya – a woman of Casilla, once Lena's lover
Miach – a soldier of Linrathe
Niáll – a man of Linrathe, in Fritjof's service
Niav – a student at the Ti'ach na Perras
Pel – a Cadet of the Empire, Tali's son
Perras – the Comiádh of the Ti'ach na Perras
Piet – a fisherman of Linrathe
Rikter – a Cadet of the Empire
Risa – a shepherd at Berge
Rothny – Fräskaran of Varsland, Fritjof's wife
Ruar – a boy of Linrathe, Donnalch's son
Siane – a record-keeper of Tirvan, deceased
Sorley – a student at the Ti'ach na Perras
Tali – a woman of Tirvan, Garth and Maya's mother
Tice – a potter of Tirvan, deceased
Toli – a man of Bartolstorp
Torunn – Konë of Bartolstorp, wife to Bartol
Turlo – a General of the Empire
Valle – a child of Casilla, Tice and Garth's son
The Vocabulary
of Empire's Hostage
The languages spoken in the Empire's Legacy trilogy are my inventions, but they are based on existing or historic languages. Pronunciations and grammar may not follow the conventions of those languages. Roughly, Casilan is based on Latin; Kurzemën is derived from a mix of Baltic languages, Linrathan primarily from Gaelic, both Scottish and Irish, and Marái'sta from Scandinavian languages.
Each word is followed by its pronunciation and then its meaning.
Abhaínne – av-anne – river
Af – av – with
Ag – ag – with
Allech'i – a-leck-hee – please
An – an – a
Arnek – ar-neck – arnica
Athir – att-hurr – father
Basi – ba-shee – pass
Be'atha – bay-att-a – food
Bluth – blutt – blood
Cailzie – kall-yah – capercaillie
Canri'ad – kan-ree-ath – lieutenant
Colúir – col-oo-urr – pigeon
Comiádh – ko-mi-ath – professor
Dalta(i) – dal-ta(tay) – student(s)
Danta – dan-tha – saga
Deir'anai – day-urr-an-i– (we will speak) later
Din – deen – your
Dhuarach – thurr-arash – dull, dulled
Dhur – thurr – dark
Eirën – ay-er-en – landholder (male)
En – an – an
Flodden – vlodden – river
Fo – vo – from
Föla – vo-la – blood
Forla – vor-lah – sorry
Fräskaran – vre-skar-an – queen
Fuádain – vwa-dai-een – peregrine falcon
Fuisce – vwi-schah – whiskey
Geälis – gi-ah-lish – shining
Gistel – gee-stel – hostage
Glaéder – glee-there – welcome (literally, you gladden)
Hallah – ha-lah – hall
Handa – han-tha- direction, position
Harr – harr – landholder, nobleman
Härskaran – herr-skar-an – king
Ja – yah –
yes
Konë – koon-eh –headwoman, wife of landholder
Ladhar – lath-arr – lute
Leannan – lee-ann-an – dearest
Lissande – lish-and-eh – shining
Liun – linn – heather
Lys – lish – light
Marái'sta – mar-uh-ee-stah – of the Marai
(referring to language)
Marren – mah-ren – south
Mathúyr – mat-oo-ur – musician
Mattai – math-ay – dull, dulled
Meas – may-as – thank you
Mer heirthra – Mer hett-ra – I am honoured
Merliún – mer-lee-oon – merlin
Min – min – mine
Motulva – mooth-ul-fa – arnica
Na – na – of, coming from
Na – nah – no
Scáeli – schaa-lee – bard
Secca – sekka – a throwing knife
Snámh'a – shanv-ahh – dipper (a type of wren)
Sostrae – shost-ree – sisters
Takkë – tack-uh – thank you
Tar'an – tah-rann – bread
Te – tay – to
Teannasach – tee-na-shah – chieftain
Ti'ach(a) – tee-ach(ah) – college(s)
Tien – tinn – a
Torp – torp – land held by an Eirën or Harr
Torpari – tor-par-ee – farmworkers, peasants
Tuki – too-kee – a prop for a falcon
Vaëre – fah-ur-ay – please
Vann – fahn – water
Yn – un– and
Empire's Exile
for
Anne Bennett
And the memory of
Mick Cole
The swallows gather, summer passes,
The grapes hang dark and sweet;
Heavy are the vines,
Heavy is my heart,
Endless is the road beneath my feet.
The sun is setting, the moon is rising,
The night is long and sweet;
I am gone at dawn.
I am gone at day,
Endless is the road beneath my feet.
The cold is deeper, the winters longer,
Summer is short but sweet;
I will remember,
I'll not forget you,
Endless is the road beneath my feet.
Tice’s song
Part I
You shall leave everything you love most dearly: this is the arrow that the bow of exile first lets fly. Dante
Chapter One
I did not turn back to look at the land I was leaving, after Galen brought us to the path into the Durrains. I began to climb, always looking forward, and up. Anger fueled that climb, at first, cold fury at the sentence of exile. Perhaps I should have been grateful; I hadn't been executed, as I'd expected to be. My Emperor had given me a chance, small as it was.
“Take it slowly,” Galen had said. He'd been further into the Durrains than anyone, but even he had no idea how high they were, or how wide. After a couple of hours of climbing, I needed to stop. I'd recovered from serious illness, including an infection in my lungs, not many weeks earlier. I hated showing weakness in front of Cillian, but if I were to have any chance of surviving in these mountains, I could not let pride override pragmatism.
We reached a small grassy meadow, scattered with boulders patched yellow and orange with lichen. I made my way to one of them, sitting down thankfully. I eased my pack off. Cillian had chosen a boulder a few paces away.
“Sorry,” I said. “But I need a rest. I'm not as strong as I should be, after the illness.”
“No matter,” he answered. “Galen told us to take it slowly.” He drank from his waterskin, sparingly. “Perhaps we should talk.”
“About?”
“What we can expect from each other, as travelling companions,” he said evenly. “I can build a fire, and pitch a tent, and use the stars to find my way, fairly well. I cannot use a bow, or butcher an animal. Or cook food, beyond a simple porridge and tea.” His words were precise, with just enough difference in pronunciation to remind me our common tongue was not his native language.
“I can hunt,” I replied, “and butcher what I kill. I can't cook much, either, but I can roast a rabbit over a fire. And I can navigate by the stars, too.”
“I will be more dependent on you than you will be on me,” he observed.
“That's not a good situation,” I said. “You can't hunt at all?”
“No. Except to fly a falcon.”
“I should teach you to use a bow, then,” I decided. “If I am injured, or worse, dead, you need to be able to feed yourself.” We had two small bows meant for birds and small animals, and a dozen arrows each. I hadn't realized that Cillian had no idea how to use his.
“That might be best,” he agreed. He glanced up the mountain.
“Another few minutes,” I said. He nodded.
“You should decide,” he said, “as you are the one recovering.” He drank another small mouthful of water. “One more thing, Lena. I would like this to be understood from the beginning. I am used to travelling on my own, rarely with a companion and never with a woman. I will respect your privacy, and you are in no danger from me.”
“Nor are you from me,” I said drily. I'd meant it to be amusing, but what flashed across his face looked like relief, to me. What had he thought I expected? “Seriously, Cillian, thank you,” I said. “It is good to be clear, from the beginning. I have travelled alone with men, and even in the Empire there can be moments of awkwardness. Shall we go? When we stop at mid-day, I'll give you a lesson with the bow.”
The climb grew steeper. At one particularly difficult spot, Cillian went ahead, reaching down to offer me a hand several times. I cursed my frailty silently: I should be good at this. The game trail levelled out, but he stayed ahead of me. He moved with grace, balancing easily on the rocks. Watching him, a memory tugged, but stayed hidden.
Only when we stopped to eat did I realize what that memory was. He'd crouched to open his pack, straightening after finding what he wanted in one fluid move.
“Cillian,” I asked, “do you dance?”
“An unusual question to be asked on a mountainside,” he observed. “But yes, I do. Why do you ask?”
I had flushed at his tone. “Our potter, Tice, was from Karst, where they dance from earliest childhood. You move like her, a bit.”
“Do I? I did not learn from earliest childhood, but from about twelve. Dancing is a necessary ability for what I was ordained to become, by Perras's and the Teannasach's decree.” Food in hand, he sat on the grass. I did the same, a comfortable distance away.
“What did you do, in Linrathe? Jordis said you were a student, but that can't be right, can it?”
“Why would you concern yourself with what I did? It is in the past.”
“It may be,” I answered, ignoring the rebuff, “but we're going to be travelling companions for the gods know how long. We probably should get to know each other, don't you think?”
“If you wish, although I do not see why it matters.” He ran a hand through his hair, already unkempt. “Jordis was not incorrect. All ti'achan, even Perras and Dagney, are students for all our lives. But primarily I have been, or rather I was, for a dozen years now, a travelling teacher, to the estates of any Harr or Eirën who wished their nearly-grown sons, or sometimes daughters, to have a winter spent in learning. But that duty was almost an excuse for the second, which was to be a toscaire. An emissary, you would say. I brought news and ideas to the Harr or Eirën, and gathered their thoughts, and the news and rumours they had heard, and took them back to the Ti'acha, and our leaders.”
“What sort of ideas?”
“Whether they supported Donnalch for Teannasach, for one, and then after he had been chosen, what their support for his plans were.”
“Why didn't you fight?” I asked abruptly.
“Fighting is not required of all men in Linrathe
,” he said. “Those of us attached to a Ti'ach are exempt, and as a toscaire I had to be seen as impartial, or I would not be trusted with honest thoughts.” There is something evasive in his answer, I thought, even though it sounds plausible.
“So, like our young officers, as a—an emissary—you were trained in protocols, in how to behave and act around all ranks of people?”
“Yes. Even to the halls of King Herlief, in Varsland.”
“That training wasn't evident the first week or so I knew you.” I hadn't planned to say that. “I'm sorry, Cillian,” I said. “That was rude.”
“As to that, an apology is due you, for the way I treated you when you first came to the Ti'ach, if not for later as well.”
“Apology accepted,” I said lightly. “But why? Will you tell me that?”
He shook his head. “Not at this moment. It is not something I would have spoken of, except to Perras or Dagney, and I lost that opportunity.”
That had sounded honest. We might be together in exile, but that didn't mean we needed to be privy to each other's secrets, or innermost thoughts and feelings. I finished my cheese and oatcakes. “Shall we begin with the bow?”
Teaching Cillian to string the bow went smoothly. I demonstrated the hold, and how to position his hand to draw, and then I asked him to try. His arm pointed down too much. I reached up to adjust it, one hand under his shoulder blade, one on his arm. He flinched, moving away from me.
“You don't like to be touched?” I asked. I'd thought it had been only the idea of sleeping close to me on the boat we'd stolen that had disconcerted him.
“No,” he answered. “I do not. But now I expect it, try again.”
I kept my touch as light as possible, using fingertips only to position his arm and shoulder. His stance was off, too, I realized. “Cillian,” I said. “I need to straighten your body. I'm going to touch you just above your hips. All right?” He nodded. I moved him. “Now, stand there and relax,” I said. “You're far too tense.”
Empire's Legacy- The Complete Trilogy Page 63
