by Den Patrick
‘Letters were sent to me, but I’ve not had word for months.’
The Darga cleared his throat and Kimi realised she was holding her breath. ‘Much has happened with our ruling tribe,’ said Chulu-Agakh. ‘And it gives me great sadness to have to tell you.’
The Darga of Bestam gifted Kimi with two tents and presented her with food, tea and servants, though Kimi declined the latter.
‘And your brother is coming here?’ said Tief. They were sitting around the fire after breakfast. Kimi prodded the fire with a stick, raking through the ashes as if some meaning might be hidden there. Marozvolk had wandered into town and Taiga was tidying up the tent.
‘It’s customary for the new Xhan to travel the country and go to each of the port towns. That way everyone knows where he is and can make tribute to him.’
‘And if the Xhan doesn’t come calling?’ asked Tief.
‘Then you know that you are out of favour and that your time as Darga is coming to an end.’ Kimi stopped prodding the ashes and snapped the stick in two. ‘But Chulu-Agakh has had word the Xhantsulgarat is on its way here. My brother will be here soon.’ She snapped the stick into smaller pieces and eyed the flames with a stern expression. Tief shifted around until he was sitting closer to Kimi, then lit his pipe and smoked a while.
‘We’ve been through a fair bit, you and I.’ Kimi nodded and forced a smile, though in truth she felt the beginnings of hot tears behind her eyes. ‘We’ve seen some bits and pieces, and we’ve finally escaped that island, and that counts for something.’ Tief sighed. ‘But to come all this way only to … I’m sorry, Kimi.’
‘My father was never any good at giving me what I wanted,’ said Kimi. ‘And now he’s gone and I can’t warn him about the trouble in the north. I can’t …’ Her head drooped forward and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Tief slipped an arm around her shoulders.
‘But you and your brother, that has to be a better relationship than the one you had with your father, right?’
Kimi raised her head and dashed away the tears that tracked down her cheeks. ‘We only had each other growing up. But I’ve been away five years and a lot can happen to a person. Chulu-Agakh said he’d heard rumours from more than a few of his close friends at court. They’re saying Tsen poisoned my father, but no one can prove it.’
Tief stared at her as the words sank in. ‘Should we really be meeting with him? If he’s ruthless enough to poison your father then there’s no telling what he may do to you.’
‘I have no choice. Word of my arrival has already spread. I am expected to be here to meet my brother—’
‘So he can kill you?’ Tief shook his head with a scowl. ‘I think I’d rather steal a boat and take my chances in Izhoria.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’
Bestam doubled in size over the course of two nights. The Xhantsulgarat had all the characteristics of a thriving bazaar, a circus, and most importantly a royal court. The tents were large and dyed in vibrant colours. All manner of merchants and nobles wandered the temporary town looking for entertainment and opportunity.
‘This will surely set the cat among the crows,’ said Chulu-Agakh. ‘Are you sure you want to go through with this?’ Kimi and Marozvolk waited outside the main tent with the Darga.
‘I have to see Tsen,’ said Kimi quietly. ‘I have to know if it’s true or not.’
‘This is madness,’ said Marozvolk. ‘If it is true then he’s hardly going to let you go free and do as you wish.’ The renegade Vigilant stepped closer. ‘I won’t be able to protect you once we’re in there, this is the royal court.’
‘And I am a princess of the ruling tribe.’ Kimi took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. ‘I still have some sway.’
‘But you have been gone a long time,’ said Chulu-Agakh. ‘And things are much changed.’
A soldier came for them, bowing respectfully to Chulu-Agakh, then gestured that they follow. Kimi took another deep breath and entered the royal tent. The interior was a riot of sky blue and purple silks and incense burned from braziers with the strong scent of sandalwood. Bronze charms the size of birds spun and dangled from the ceiling, some chiming faintly, barely audible over the voices of the three dozen courtiers. Grim-faced horse and cattle traders rubbed shoulders with silk-robed watercleansers. The horse and cattle trade had been a male profession for as long as anyone could remember. They were lean and surly men who usually displayed their wealth with bright red robes, yet all were dressed in solemn black out of respect to the grieving Xhan. The watercleansers by contrast were only ever women, touched by the arcane. They acknowledged the dead Xhan with a sash of black worn at the waist, yet retained their blue robes. A handful of high-ranking soldiers and aides were scattered throughout the tent, but Kimi recognised none of them.
Chulu-Agakh sank to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor before the Xhan. Kimi and Marozvolk did the same, as the crowd whispered to one another. Tsen-Baina Jet stepped forward and helped Chulu-Agakh to his feet then clapped him hard on the shoulder. Kimi barely recognised her brother. Little Tsen was gone, the slim youth with the surly cast in his eye had become something more. Here was a man of heavy muscle, who held his head high, dressed in the finest leathers and a cloak of startling blue.
‘My father spoke very highly of you, Chulu-Agakh. He said you were a straight-talking man without pretence.’ Tsen eyed Marozvolk for a moment. ‘But what’s this? Have you brought me gifts in order to win my favour?’
‘I am humbled by your father’s praise,’ said Chulu-Agakh. ‘But I think there has been some mistake in communication. The women I bring are not gifts.’
Tsen circled Chulu-Agakh and inspected Marozvolk. ‘Is it not strange that you seem to have a woman for a bodyguard, Darga Bestam?’
‘One sword is much like another when it finds you, your highness,’ replied Chulu-Agakh. ‘The person wielding it hardly matters.’ That provoked a few chuckles and Kimi saw a flash of annoyance cross Tsen’s face. Perhaps the surly boy she remembered had not gone so far after all.
‘And this one?’ Tsen approached Kimi. ‘Does she lay well?’
The laughter stopped and all eyes turned to Chulu-Agakh, waiting to see if the Darga might take offence.
‘Your highness, has word not reached you that your sister has returned?’ Chulu-Agakh struggled to keep the pained expression from his face. ‘It is she that stands before you.’
Tsen stared at Kimi and for the briefest moment she saw the bloom of recognition in his eyes. Then he turned his back and took his seat on the throne.
‘I have no sister,’ he said with disgust. ‘She was taken by the Empire a long time ago.’
Kimi felt as if a sinkhole had yawned open beneath her feet and almost staggered at her brother’s dismissal. Her life as a sister, a daughter, a princess, had suddenly been crushed.
‘And now I have returned,’ she said, but struggled to make herself heard above the courtiers who openly gossiped and speculated. Tsen-Baina Jet held up his hand for silence once he was seated and the crowd obeyed.
‘My family received word that my sister died while held captive. It was the letter that told of her passing that broke my father’s heart. He did not recover, as you are all aware.’
‘I can assure you I am very much alive, little brother,’ said Kimi, her voice loud and her anger clear for all to hear.
‘You will not address me in such a way,’ shouted Tsen, lurching to his feet.
‘I am Kimi Enkhtuya of the Jet Tribe, daughter in exile, a political prisoner of the hated Empire.’ The courtiers barely hid their shock, to see someone shout back at the Xhan. ‘And you are not the boy I left behind five years ago!’
‘Take them away,’ said Tsen-Baina Jet, with a wave of his hand. ‘I will not tolerate such disgusting lies.’
‘But your highness,’ said Chulu-Agakh. ‘I believe she tells the truth. I respectfully—’
‘And I believe you should stop spea
king, Darga Bestam,’ said the Xhan. ‘My patience has a limit, and you are not so valuable that you cannot be replaced.’
Kimi looked to Marozvolk in a daze as they were bundled out of the tent by guards.
‘He did it,’ she whispered in disbelief. ‘He killed my father. The rumours are true.’
‘And now he’s going to kill us,’ said Marozvolk. She clenched her jaw in frustration.
‘He killed our father,’ said Kimi again, her gaze unfocused. ‘My little brother …’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Silverdust
They did not stay in Steinwick long, much to Silverdust’s relief. The soldiers had two days to rest and a cart was purchased for the journey ahead. Silverdust did not leave his room during that time, barely communicating with the soldiers who brought his meals. Streig was noticeably absent and Silverdust poured his meals out of the window. Before long they were leaving the cheerless, smoky town and the garrison of Imperial soldiers who remained there. Envoy de Vries and Father Orlov rode in the cart, along with the supplies.
Silverdust glided along behind the cart. His patience with the Envoy had grown thin and he had no wish to be near Father Orlov. Streig walked alongside the Exarch, while the rest of the soldiers marched ahead of the cart.
I have not seen you recently.
‘They kept me busy in Steinwick,’ said the soldier. ‘It comes from being the youngest in the troop. You get all the shit jobs.’
And am I one of these shit jobs? Streig had taken off his helmet and stowed it on the cart. The expression on his face told Silverdust exactly what he had suspected.
‘You’re a job no one else wants,’ said Streig after pausing a moment to choose his words.
So I am under guard then, on Envoy de Vries’ orders?
Streig nodded, his mouth a tight line as if he wanted to say more.
And none of your comrades care to walk beside me keeping watch?
Streig nodded again but said nothing.
So I am indeed the shit job.
‘Like there’s anything I could do to stop you doing what you wanted.’ Streig shook his head and shot a dark look towards Envoy de Vries. ‘For all I know you shoot fireballs out of your arse and strangle people with a thought.’
Despite your flippancy you are painfully close to the truth. Except the part about by my nether regions.
Streig laughed with embarrassment and looked away. ‘Where the Hel are we, anyway? What is this place?’
They had turned south-east after leaving Steinwick and each long day of travel took them across a barren featureless steppe. The ground was stony and sandy grit swirled around their feet at the wind’s insistence. Yellow grasses grew in tufts and small shrubs clung to life through sheer stubbornness. The horizon was always too far away and the sky above them too vast.
This paradise is Novaya Zemlya. The Emperor’s so-called ‘new land’.
‘I’ve never heard of it,’ said Streig. ‘We’ve not seen a single village or town in a week. Not one that had a living soul in it.’
No one comes here because the ground yields no crops. A person needs to eat to raise a house and a family.
‘You don’t,’ said Streig.
I thought we had agreed that my lack of appetite was one of those things you don’t ask questions about.
‘As you wish,’ said Streig, though Silverdust could sense his frustration and the curiosity behind it. The cart had come to a stop a few dozen feet ahead of them. ‘You should join us by the fire tonight,’ said the young soldier. ‘Pretend to sleep if you have to. The soldiers are unsettled by your strange ways and you’re attracting attention when it’s clear to me you’d rather not.’
You are attentive as always, Streig. I had noticed the very same thing and will do as you say. Besides, I may not need sustenance but conversation is always welcome.
The young soldier gave a small and tightly guarded smile, then sighed with relief. It had been a risk for a lowly soldier to suggest a course of action to a lofty Exarch.
I will not forget this kindness you have done me, Streig.
An uneasy look crossed Streig’s face and Silverdust sensed the young soldier’s distress.
Why do you keep doing these small, and not so small, kindnesses?
Streig’s armour clattered as he shrugged. ‘Damned if I know why, but I trust you far more than I trust that Envoy. I don’t like her. And I don’t like her fancy ways, or the way she talks to us. That’s all.’
And the other soldiers?
‘They don’t care for her either. And not just the Envoy. The older soldiers are tired of the Empire and want a quiet life. The last thing they need is a war with the south.’
Silverdust thought on Streig’s words. The men escorting him were unwilling pawns, loyal only by the narrowest of margins. What might it take to undermine that loyalty even further?
Silverdust sat on the ground, though in truth he had no need to sit. The many miles had not tired him, one of the advantages of being dead. The soldiers were sullen and quiet with the Exarch in their midst. They concentrated on their food, only glancing at Silverdust from the corner of their eyes if they dared to glance at all. Father Orlov and the Envoy continued to speak as if nothing had changed. Silverdust watched as a few soldiers sidled up to Streig and asked him what was going on in conspiratorial whispers. Why had the strange and aloof Exarch joined them at the camp fire now, weeks into the journey?
‘I don’t know,’ replied the young soldier. ‘You’d have to ask him.’
Food was brought and Silverdust made a show of clutching his stomach.
‘Are you not eating tonight, Exarch?’ said the Envoy.
I am unwell and my appetite is greatly diminished. I will be fine, it is a passing thing, nothing more.
‘And yet you have not joined us on the cart,’ said Father Orlov. ‘It seems foolish to walk when you are unwell.’ He laced his words with concern, but not for one moment did Silverdust believe the man’s sincerity. ‘You could have told us all about this new power you supposedly have.’ Everyone froze around the camp fire. ‘This ability to see the dead.’ Mumbled conversations between soldiers fell silent and meals were forgotten as all attention turned to Orlov’s challenge.
Do I detect a note of disbelief in your tone, Father Orlov? Silverdust projected the words into the minds of everyone present. If this were to be a public duel, then so be it.
‘Envoy de Vries asked me not to mention it but it seems to be an open secret among our band of travellers.’ None of the soldiers contradicted Father Orlov. Their gazes slipped from the mask with nine stars to Silverdust’s expressionless mirror.
Let us speak of open secrets then, Father. Silverdust rose to a standing position. It had been a long time since he had needed to hold the attention of a crowd.
‘Please do,’ replied Father Orlov.
The light of the fire is a comforting nimbus on this endless steppe. Silverdust turned to look over his shoulder at the darkness beyond. And yet I see lost souls lingering in the darkness beyond, no more than two dozen feet away. They call to me.
‘Bullshit,’ said one of the soldiers. Silverdust caught the Envoy smirking before she covered her mouth with a hand.
The Emperor tired of the Spriggani after the war. He disliked their way of life, hidden in the forests, and he was uncomfortable with their access to the arcane. The Spriggani were rounded up and brought here, to Novaya Zemlya, within a decade of the dragons’ defeat.
Silverdust drifted around the outer edge of the circle, half his form illuminated, half lost to darkness.
‘And does this ancient history lesson have anything to do with this power you’ve convinced the Envoy of?’ said Father Orlov.
The phantoms I can see beyond the light of our fire are the spirits of dead Spriggani. He felt a deep pang of sympathy for the phantoms, caught between their existence here and what waited beyond. The wind picked up and sent the flames of the camp fire dancing erratically.
‘Spriggani?’ said Father Orlov. ‘Then it’s likely they were too lazy to grow crops and died of starvation.’ A few of the soldiers chuckled.
Then why do the ghosts I see before me have their throats cut?
Silverdust moved very quickly and clapped a hand down on Father Orlov’s shoulder. The Vigilant flinched violently, then sprang to his feet, knife in hand.
Careful now, Father. Envoy de Vries has been entrusted to bring me before the Emperor. It would be unfortunate for her if I died before I reached Khlystburg. Though it would take something altogether more powerful to kill a cinderwraith than a humble knife.
‘The Spriggani were vermin,’ shouted Father Orlov. He pointed the knife at Silverdust like an accusing finger. ‘They were vermin who refused to help the Emperor fight the dragons during the war.’
You speak of open secrets between men who serve the Emperor, but you do not know that long ago the Spriggani also waged a war against the dragons. A quiet war, a war of hit-and-run attacks, of guile – using arcane power the Emperor coveted.
‘Careful now, Exarch,’ said the Envoy, ‘you’re painfully close to treason.’ Silverdust paused. How badly he wanted to tear down the lies the Empire told and retold, how badly he wanted a glimmer of truth to exist in the hearts of these unwilling and tired soldiers. If even a splinter of doubt troubled them they might ask more questions and find their own answers. Silverdust looked at the faces of the soldiers and felt his anger subside. This was not the time or the place.
The phantoms cannot harm you, though they may wish otherwise. You should all sleep and rest up for the journey ahead. We are still many miles from Khlystburg.
Silverdust drifted away from the fire and pulled a blanket around his shoulders before sitting on the unmoving cart. He kept watch all night, watching the many dead souls mourning for themselves and their cruel fate.
The following day brought a chilly morning of tense silences. At first light, Father Orlov had stalked away from the camp fire to brood and the Envoy had gone after him. They spent long minutes conversing while the soldiers packed up the simple camp and squinted into the distance at the path ahead. Silverdust resumed his place behind the cart, lost to thoughts of dead Spriggani, last night’s anger settling about him like a pall. The Envoy barked something at the soldiers as she took her place on the cart and Streig slunk towards Silverdust, a frown set on his face.
