The Raven Coven

by Emma Miles

  Chapter Four

  Dia Icante; Fulmer Island

  Worvig burst into the hall and spotting Dia, skidded to a halt.

  ‘Another boat!’

  Dia passed her scroll to her apprentice, Pirelle, and with a quick shake of her head strode across the room to join her chieftain. ‘Where?’

  ‘Just a mile down the coast.’ Worvig was red-faced and breathing hard. He was a large man, taller and broader than most islanders, as was his brother, Dia’s husband. The lines about his hazel eyes increased as he frowned. ‘Just women and children by the looks of things.’

  ‘Even so.’ Dia indicated to one of the warriors guarding the Hold. ‘Get thirty men, quickly, and follow.’

  ‘Yes, Icante.’ The man turned at once to obey.

  ‘Where’s Heara?’ Worvig glanced around them.

  ‘Out training Catya.’ Dia pursed her lips. ‘She’ll be along no doubt. Arrus?’

  ‘Stayed to watch the boat.’

  Dia nodded. ‘Come on then.’ She broke into a run and, with a groan, Worvig caught up and matched her pace.

  Over the last three months, several ships of varying sizes had arrived in the Fulmer Islands carrying refugees from the Borrows. Some of them had fled to the coast of Chem after the conquest of the Borrow Islands only to be attacked there and driven out or captured as slaves. Others had spent days at sea before returning to their ruined homes. Few of the survivors, it seemed, were able to endure it there for long.

  They reached the small cove where the boat had set in. Arrus and two other warriors were standing amidst the seaweed of the high tideline. The boat was partially pulled up onto the beach but only one person had gotten out, a woman about ten years older than Dia with iron-grey streaking her otherwise brown, curly hair. Her eyes were a pale hazel, and she watched Dia without fear. Dia made her way across to Arrus who gave her a nod and relaxed his stance a little. With a glance over her shoulder Dia saw the rest of the warriors were on their way.

  She touched Arrus’ arm and took a few steps toward the boat. Raising one hand she called flames to her fingertips. Several of the women and children in the boat cried out in alarm.

  ‘Just so you know,’ she said to the Borrowwoman.

  The woman nodded and Dia extinguished her flame.

  She already knew the answer, but she asked anyway. ‘I am Dia, Icante of the Fulmers. Why are you here?’

  ‘I am Grya, Matriarch of Nisten Isle.’ She indicated behind her with her head. ‘We seek safety.’

  ‘Your men have raided the Fulmers for years, killing and enslaving our people. Why would we help you?’

  ‘Because you are a mother.’

  The words hit her like a stone to her temple, like a slicing open of her heart. Dia swallowed, forcing the muscles of her face to relax to hide her emotions.

  ‘We’ll give you food and allow you to rest here for one night, but you must go back to the Borrows.’

  Grya turned as if to spit but stopped herself. ‘The Borrows are cursed. The birds and animals have fled. Those that can’t leave suffer illness and nightmares. We’ve tried to tolerate the land, but it’s impossible.’

  ‘I’ve been told the effects of the blood spells will pass. They have done so here and in Elden.’

  ‘We can’t live on the sea until that happens.’

  The two women regarded each other. Dia sighed. ‘Our resources are not limitless. You will work for your food and shelter. You will live by our laws and be judged by them. You must return to the Borrows when it’s safe to do so and let none of your descendants attack here again. Is that acceptable?’

  Grya stepped forward and reached out her hand. Dia saw Arrus’s hand go to his sword. She waved her husband away. Calling up her knowing she wasn’t surprised by the mixture of hope, exhaustion, and desperate fear she felt from the people in the boat. Grya was a different matter. There was a lot of pride and confidence there. The woman would bear watching.

  She crossed the distance between them and took Grya’s hand firmly. ‘You’ll stay outside the Hold, but we’ll ensure you have the materials to build reasonable shelters. This man here is Worvig Silene. He and these warriors will escort you to the Hold.’

  ‘Thank you, Icante.’ She winced as though the words brought her pain.

  Dia looked her up and down before making her way back up the beach.

  ‘We can’t keep taking them in,’ Arrus complained under his breath with a scowl.

  ‘No, we can’t,’ Dia agreed. They climbed up over the rocks to the coastal path. ‘I think it’s time we made use of our new Elden Ambassador, Merkis Vilnue, see if he can get Bractius to accept a few Borrow refugees.’

  Arrus grunted. She looked up at him to see his eyebrows were pinched in tightly over his green-flecked eyes.

  ‘I thought you liked Vilnue?’

  ‘Vilnue won’t be the problem,’ he replied. ‘If we ask Bractius to assist with our refugee problem, he’ll want something in return.’

  ‘You’re probably right.’ She slipped her arm through his, for a man in his late-forties he was still solidly muscled.

  ‘Have you decided who you’ll send as our ambassador?’

  ‘I considered Larissa, but I’ll wait and see if Kesta decides to stay in Elden before I choose a walker. If I sent Larissa, I’d want your brother to go with her.’

  Arrus drew in a long breath. ‘Worvig won’t want to leave here. As for our Kesta, she won’t leave Jorrun again unless the fool makes her.’

  Dia smiled to herself. She had asked Kesta a simple question not long after they’d returned to the Fulmers. If Kesta could live her life again, or be born anew in another life, would Jorrun be the one she prayed to be with, or would she seek another? Her daughter had replied with no hesitation: I would seek Jorrun. It had taken several attempts on her part, but she’d finally given her daughter and Jorrun the opportunity they needed; now they just needed to take it. She couldn’t help feeling some concern about them, they were not people destined to live quiet lives.

  Looking up she saw her best friend and bodyguard hurrying toward them. Heara looked embarrassed.

  ‘Icante, I’m sorr—’

  Dia waved a hand at her. ‘I can handle a few women and children, Heara.’

  Heara frowned. ‘How many?’

  ‘Just under two dozen,’ Arrus replied. ‘We’re keeping them here, this time.’

  Heara looked from Arrus to Dia. ‘I thought we were keeping them away from Fulmer Hold?’

  Dia opened her mouth and sighed. ‘We can’t keep passing the burden on to the other holds. If they cause trouble they’ll be off the islands, no excuses.’ She touched two fingers to her mouth, gazing up at the Hold that stood on a narrow peninsular high up on the cliffs. ‘We may have to be careful of Milaiya. It might not go down well if the Borrowwomen run into a Chem woman.’

  They had already had to send the former slave across to Otter Hold when Jorrun visited. Dia was sure the Thane would have been too polite to say or do anything to the woman who’d tried to kill his half-brother; however, she hadn’t wanted anything to get in the way of him and Kesta.

  ‘Shall I speak to her?’ Heara offered.

  Dia shook her head. ‘I’ll do it. Where is Vilnue?’

  Heara grinned. ‘In the great hall.’

  ‘Very well.’ Dia gave Arrus’s arm a squeeze. ‘See what you can find to help our guests build shelters.’

  She went into the hall and was greeted by laughing and cheering. A group had gathered in a corner to watch what sounded like a fight. Her apprentice, Pirelle, was attempting to intervene, however it was Vilnue who shoved his way past the men and grabbed up two children by the collars to separate them. Dia’s heart sank when she saw who they were, although she wasn’t surprised.

  A voice spoke softly at her shoulder. ‘The boy told her Elden women are stupid and weak.’

  She turned to look at Milaiya, she had a scarf tied about her long, copper hair, but had adopted the Fulmer preferenc
e of wearing trousers and a tunic. She had a habit of not meeting people’s eyes and lowering her head when anyone spoke to her, she clearly still felt vulnerable without her veil.

  ‘Thank you.’ Dia nodded. ‘Will you meet me in my room? Nothing to worry about, but I have some news for you.’

  Milaiya gave her a bow, drifting away with her water urn cradled in her arms.

  Gritting her teeth, Dia strode toward where the crowd were still gathered. On seeing the Icante’s face most of them quickly remembered they had other places to be.

  ‘Well?’ She demanded, looking from Catya to the boy, Gilfy, who both still struggled in Vilnue’s grip.

  Catya glared at her but said nothing. The boy, on the other hand, pointed a finger at Catya. ‘She started it! She said—’

  ‘Islanders take responsibility for their own actions!’ Dia raised a hand. ‘It doesn’t matter what someone says or does, it’s up to you to choose how you react. There are some things that can only be solved by fighting, but a difference of opinion is not one of them!’

  Both of them stop struggling and Vilnue let them go, looking at Dia with raised eyebrows.

  Dia sighed. ‘Catya, go and find Heara. Gilfy, Arrus Silene will have some work for you.’

  ‘Yes, Icante.’ The boy sloped away.

  Dia continued to regard Catya. The young girl had plaited her long brown hair back out of the way making her large blue eyes more prominent. Her face muscles were relaxed and she waited patiently for Dia to speak. She wondered if the girl had learnt how to control and hide her feelings so well from watching Jorrun, or from a need to master her own emotions so early on in life.

  ‘You have nothing to say?’

  ‘No, Icante.’

  ‘You do not wish to defend your actions?’

  Catya turned away with a frown as she thought for a moment. She looked back up at Dia, the frown gone again. ‘I felt I had to prove my side of the argument by demonstrating the truth.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘That I’m a better fighter than him.’ Her fingers curled momentarily into fists, but quickly relaxed again.

  ‘I see.’ Dia took in a deep breath and breathed out slowly.

  ‘Actually, he said he was stronger than her,’ Vilnue interjected.

  Catya scowled up at him.

  ‘Well, that’s a different matter.’ Dia stepped forward and put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘Catya, Gilfy is physically stronger than you, will probably always be stronger than you and you have to accept that. It doesn’t mean you can’t be a better fighter though; but if you can’t understand the difference between physical strength and skill, then you won’t be a better fighter. You need to find a different way to fight that negates his strength, as I’m sure Heara is teaching you. Part of that is knowing when to walk away. Most of the time it’s not necessary to prove what you know is true. The truth stands up for itself. Do you understand what I’m telling you?’

  Catya nodded, her eyes wide and unblinking. ‘Yes, Icante.’

  ‘Good. Then go and find Heara.’

  Catya bowed and darted away and out of the hall at a run.

  Dia turned to regard Vilnue and Pirelle. ‘I’ve agreed to allow some Borrow refugees to stay outside the Hold. We’ll need to find work for them; we should concentrate on trying to increase our food resources. Pirelle, could you please see if any of them have any particularly useful skills?’

  ‘Yes, Icante.’

  ‘Vilnue.’ Dia hesitated and studied his face. Since he’d been assigned to the Fulmers to help fight against Chem, Dia had come to rely on the Elden Merkis as much as she did her own chieftains, more than some even. His sandy hair and greying beard held touches of red, a colour rare among Islanders, it was what had first attracted her best friend to this Eldeman. ‘How likely would your king be to assist us with Borrow refugees?’

  Vilnue shifted his feet and glanced away. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure. It’s not a situation we have encountered before. There have been a few people from the Borrows over the years who’ve arrived in ones and twos looking to settle, which they have done with no difficulties I’m aware of; but the numbers were very few. Would he help?’ The Merkis scratched at his beard and shrugged. ‘All I can do is make him aware of the situation and ask.’

  ‘Please do so.’ Dia nodded, although she got the impression Vilnue already thought the answer would be no.

  Vilnue gave a bow of his head and headed for the doors at the back of the hall to the private rooms where he’d been quartered. Dia took a look around to reassure herself everything had settled before she followed him and climbed the stairs up to her own room. Milaiya was waiting for her.

  ‘Come on in.’ She held the door open and the Chem woman took slow, stilted steps into the room. She didn’t get a lot of sunlight in the room as it faced north, north-east, but the long window looked out over the sea. She indicated a chair and Milaiya sat at once, her hands folded in her lap.

  ‘Are you happy enough here, Milaiya? You are not too alone with Kesta gone?’

  ‘I am happy, Icante,’ she replied without looking up.

  Dia narrowed her eyes and called up her knowing. She wasn’t surprised to find Milaiya was feeling apprehension and sadness. The former slave had tried her best to adjust, but the Fulmers were a huge cultural world away from Chem.

  ‘People have been treating you well?’

  ‘Yes, Icante.’

  ‘Unless it’s a formal occasion, please call me Dia.’ She studied the woman’s bowed head, her hair shone like brass where the light caught it. Milaiya’s confidence had been shattered, but she still had her pride. ‘I wanted to warn you we have some refugees from the Borrows who’ll be staying outside the Hold. Just women and children. I’m sure they would hold no blame against a woman from Chem for their situation, but you may wish to be cautious around them, just in case.’

  Milaiya looked up, her brown eyes wide. ‘I’ll be careful, thank you. I … I certainly understand how anger can … can make you act in vengeance without thinking.’

  Dia nodded, pleased the woman continued to maintain eye contact. ‘If you have any concerns, if there’s anything you need or wish to share, please talk to me. Not as an Icante, but as my daughter’s friend. As my friend.’

  Milaiya looked down again and swallowed. ‘Thank you, Dia.’

  ‘You are enjoying looking after the ponies?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Milaiya’s face became animated and a smile lit her eyes. She leaned forward. ‘And the farrier has been teaching me to care for the hooves!’

  ‘Has he.’ The farrier, Faine, was maybe a couple of years younger than Milaiya and single. Dia didn’t think he was the sort of man to take advantage of the former slave, but it would be worth keeping an eye on. ‘Would you be interested in spending some time with the blacksmith also?’

  Milaiya’s smile widened. ‘Yes, please. I love learning all these new things.’

  Dia’s own heart lightened, and she reached forward to squeeze one of her hands. ‘I’ll see to it then. Would you like to stay and drink some tea?’

  Milaiya hesitated and Dia waited.

  ‘Yes, please.’ Milaiya glanced up at her from under her lashes.

  ***

  When she was alone again, Dia went to the window and gazed out across the sea, placing one hand against the cool glass. She caught her own reflection, her frown increasing the lines around her eyes, before her gaze went further, toward the horizon. Far down below the waves shushed rhythmically against the base of the cliff. Her thoughts turned to her daughter and Dia hoped she was happy, that she and Jorrun had had the sense to find some kind of compromise with which they could live. She couldn’t quite throw off the knot of anxiety in her stomach. She spoke into the empty room. ‘Doroquael, are you here?’

  There was a pop and hiss and shadows danced across the room. Turning she saw the fire-spirit hovering near the fire grate.

  ‘I’m here, Dia.’

  ‘You heard we have mo
re refugees from the Borrows?’

  Doroquael made a crackling sound that may have been words in his own language. ‘I heard. How many now?’

  ‘Nearly two hundred in all.’ She moved away from the window and sat on the bed. ‘It will put a huge strain on our resources, but could mean if the Borrows ever recover, they won’t attack us as they used to. Is there any way for your brothers to know when the spells the necromancers cast will fade and the land feel at peace again?’

  ‘There are no Drakes on the Borrowss.’

  ‘Because of the spells?’

  Doroquael grew larger and brighter, but quickly shrank again. ‘No. The Borrows belongs to the ssea, it’s not a place Drakess can live. We can vissit from our own realm, but not sstay long.’

  She tucked her feet up under her on the bed and leaned against the footboard to gaze at him. ‘Are you saying the Borrows are ruled by water spirits?’

  ‘Yes, those of the ssea.’

  ‘Do such spirits exist around our islands? I’ve never felt one.’

  Doroquael made himself small. ‘No. These islands belong to fire-walkers.’

  Dia looked down at the woven carpet that covered some of the wooden boards. ‘I wonder if I could talk to them, though, if they could do something about this blood curse?’

  ‘Don’t talk to them, Dia!’ Doroquael darted about in a mad circle. ‘They are dangerouss!’

  She made a noise in her throat, neither agreement nor denial. It was something to think about. She stood up and made her way over to the wash stand and leaned over to splash water on her face. Two green eyes stared back up at her. She drew back, heart hammering, her hand going to her chest.

  ‘What iss it?’ Doroquael demanded, darting closer.

  Swallowing, Dia took a step forward. She tensed, holding her breath before she bent her neck and peered back into the bowl. All she saw was her own reflection, one blue eye, one brown.

  Chapter Five

  Kesta; Kingdom of Elden

  Kesta tensed, drawing in her knowing as tightly as she could, she tried to uncurl her fingers, to release the knot in her chest, but the crowded streets of Taurmaline made her feel like she couldn’t breathe. Jorrun walked slightly ahead of her and kept glancing back at her over his shoulder. She had an overwhelming urge to call up her flames and clear the streets. Jorrun touched her arm and nodded toward a set of steps leading up off the main way. She followed and found they were in a narrow lane leading between tightly packed terraced houses. Her muscles relaxed when she saw how few people were using this route.