The Raven Coven

by Emma Miles

  ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but the baby takes all my energy these days,’ she said. She found herself frowning at his wide, green eyes.

  ‘There is no need to apologise, your majesty.’ He continued to stare at her, his smile fading. ‘Be careful, your majesty, there is a darkness around yo—’

  ‘What?’ She pulled her hand free. ‘What are you talking about.’

  ‘Dark thoughts,’ he said. ‘Dark words.’

  She opened her mouth to protest, to berate him, but no sound would come. Breathing hard, she turned and hurried from the hall, several of her ladies scampering after her. Had they heard?

  ‘Leave me in peace!’ she snapped over her shoulder. ‘Can’t you see I’m tired and going to bed?’

  ‘Is there anything we can do, your majesty?’ Sonay asked. ‘Some chamomile te—’

  Ayline stepped into her room and slammed the door in the girl’s face. Lerra immediately scrambled up off her mattress on the floor.

  ‘Help me out of my dress!’ Ayline demanded.

  The girl did so and Ayline wondered if she noticed the sweat that seemed to trickle down her back. What had that Borrowman meant by dark words? What did he know? Fear locked her spine as she climbed quickly under her blankets. She waved a hand to dismiss Lerra but bade her leave the candles lit. Darkness seemed to press against her bedroom window, the leaded panels of glass seeming a flimsy defence against the night.

  ***

  Ayline awoke to the sound of rapid whispering in her outer chamber. Grabbing her robe she went over to the door and wrenched it open.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  She froze when she saw Sonay, red-faced and crying. ‘Oh, your majesty! It’s the worst news! Lady Larissa has been found dead in her bed and the King has ordered the guards gather all the Borrowmen and escort them to the audience room.’

  ‘Help me get dressed, quickly.’ She had to rub at her nose to hide the wild grin that wanted to grow there, at the same time as her heart pounded and fear seemed to weaken the muscles of her knees.

  As soon as she was dressed, she rushed out into the hall, only to come face to face with Inari, calmly replacing candles in the sconces. One side of his mouth twitched upward into a smile, it wasn’t a pleasant smile, there was no humour in his eyes.

  ‘What have you done?’ she hissed.

  ‘What you asked.’ He regarded her unblinking. ‘Removed our enemy as well as destroyed the peace between the Fulmers and the Borrows. Oh, and by the way, I think you’ll find your husband’s nightmares will stop now the witch is dead.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  His eyes grew hard. ‘Use that pretty little head of yours, Ayline.’

  She gasped. ‘How dare you address me that way!’

  He continued to smile at her, his cold, dead smile.

  A chill swept through Ayline’s heart and grabbing her skirts she all but ran to the audience room.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Osun; Covenet of Chem

  It was almost eerily quiet after the bustle and energy of the Elden delegation’s visit. Beside Osun his clerk’s quill scratched away at his parchment and he sighed over the figures. Cassien was sitting by the door reading, he was one of the very few people brave enough to dare borrow a book from the palace library even though he could barely read. Jorrun still slept in there, up on the balcony, refusing to use any of the bedrooms of the palace. Osun could understand why although he preferred not to think too deeply about it.

  ‘Well, things are actually getting better,’ the clerk said. ‘Even with the increased wages and the need for more food. Did you want to start looking at improvements across the city?’

  ‘No, not yet.’ Osun tapped at his lip. ‘We’ll continue to concentrate on defences and restoring order for the moment. Get me some surveys done though, see what the city needs and we’ll prioritise what we can. Did you look through my fath—’ Osun gritted his teeth. ‘Did you get a chance to look through Dryn’s ledgers?’

  ‘I did, master. He was very shrewd in the running of Navere. I … hope that doesn’t offend you?’

  Osun stood up and paced across the study, Cassien glanced up from his book. ‘How can the truth offend?’ Osun replied. ‘If what he did worked, we’d be foolish not to learn from it.’

  ‘Very good, master.’ The clerk didn’t look up, but dipped his pen. Osun narrowed his eyes. The man was one of the Rowen Order, but it was too soon to say if they could trust him or not. ‘Get me those reports as soon as you ca—’

  Someone knocked at the door and Cassien dropped his book, his right hand going to his sword as he stood to open the door with his left. One of the palace guards stood there, bowing quickly.

  ‘There is a man come from Margith to see you, master,’ the guard said. ‘Name of Farkle Warne.’

  Osun’s mouth automatically formed itself into a smile and his heart swelled, his hand moved up to touch his face. Farkle! For a moment he couldn’t find his voice. He shook his head. ‘Show him to the audience room.’ He turned to Cassien. ‘Who is with me today?’

  ‘Jorrun.’ Cassien informed him.

  ‘Good.’ He felt less relief than he used to that Kesta hadn’t been assigned to him today. She mostly spent her days still with the palace sisters but on occasion took a turn to sit in on audiences with one or two of the other women. They’d tried to get the guards of the palace to address the palace women of blood as ‘mistress,’ but it had been a step too far too soon for most of them. ‘Sister’ seemed to sit more comfortably with the Chemmen. A few insisted on calling Kesta ‘Master.’ It was a start. He turned to the clerk.

  ‘I’ll get this finished off,’ the man reassured him.

  Osun gave a nod and stepped out of the door Cassien held open for him. Two guards remained outside his study, but two others stepped away from the door to follow them along the hall and down the stairs. They entered the audience room through a door at the rear; Jorrun was waiting with Jagna, Jorrun already on his feet. They’d settled on setting three large and sturdy chairs at the top end of the hall facing down its long length to the door. To either side several other chairs fanned out for when all the coven met. Osun couldn’t help but smile at the large green banner.

  ‘Osun?’

  He waved a hand toward his half-brother. ‘The accounts have improved a little,’ he mumbled in reply, sitting in the central seat and indicating the guard should let in their guest. Jorrun and Jagna settled in the chairs to either side of him.

  The doors opened and a ragged figure stepped in, leaning on the arm of one of the palace guards. Osun drew in a sharp breath and all good humour left him. He jumped to his feet and hurried toward the seemingly old man, evoking a cry of alarm from Cassien. Osun barely heard Jorrun tell the young man to stay back.

  ‘Farkle?’ Osun slowed to peer at the man’s almost skeletal face. Farkle barely seemed able to lift his feet and his back was bent over as he clutched at the guard. ‘What has befallen you?’ He turned toward the servant who waited on them only to find Jorrun had already brought one of the chairs down the hall. The guard settled Farkle in it and then stepped back.

  Farkle gave Osun a thin-lipped smile that somehow revolted him, although he hid it as best he could. ‘My illness has finally got the better of me, master Osun.’

  ‘Please, call me brother as you always have. Why on earth did you travel here if you’re so ill?’ Osun barely glanced at Cassien who’d brought two more chairs over for Osun and Jorrun.

  ‘My son is settled.’ Farkle gave a wheeze. Dread settled like a stone in Osun’s stomach as he regarded the man’s face. He was dying, painfully slowly, but right there before his eyes. ‘My affairs in order. I wanted to see for myself how my old friend Osun had done for himself, see his grand palace and his coven of women!’ Farkle gave a shake of his head and a spark of amusement came back to his rheumy eyes. ‘Also, I’ve never seen the sea.’

  ‘What, never?’ Cassien exclaimed.

  Osun hissed at him
to shush. ‘Your son is settled? Is there good news then from Margith?’

  Farkle nodded. ‘Tembre took your advice and used stealth and guile to take Margith rather than risk his small coven in an attack of force. He won over servants, then guards, then one or two of the sitting coven. He now holds Margith and credits it to your careful planning.’

  Osun clenched his fists, biting back the cry of triumph he wanted to give.

  ‘He sends gifts as thanks but also a few words. He says he still doesn’t hold with giving women power, but, as agreed, he will harm none in his keeping.’

  ‘It’s a start.’

  Osun looked around at Jorrun, seeing the tension in his shoulders and the lines above the bridge of his nose.

  ‘Forgive me.’ Osun sat back a little. ‘Farkle let me introduce you to my birth-brother, Jorrun. Jorrun, this is my … this is my friend, Farkle Warne.’ The word felt alien on his lips and was like a wriggling snake in his heart. He didn’t have friends, only contacts, but somehow that was suddenly what Farkle was, now, when it was almost too late. It made him feel sick, a strange fear flickering in his soul.

  Jorrun gave a bow. ‘I’ve heard good things about you, brother Warne.’

  ‘And I of you.’ Farkle nodded back. ‘They wait outside.’

  ‘They?’ Jorrun turned pale.

  ‘Three women of Margith palace.’

  Jorrun shot to his feet and pointed to one of the guards who hurriedly opened the doors. Captain Rece was waiting outside with three girls. The youngest was about eight with curly black hair and brown eyes, the next perhaps four years older with lighter, straight hair. Between the two of them and holding their hands was a girl close to womanhood with straight black hair and bright blue eyes. Her features were unmistakably Dunham. Farkle fumbled in his jacket to take out a scroll which Jorrun took from him. Osun held his breath, watching his brother’s eyes travel over the words, his hands were shaking.

  ‘The girls …’ Jorrun cleared his throat and Osun thought his heart would race straight out of his chest. ‘Two were sold from here. Rey’s daughter, Hylem. Calayna’s daughter, Sevi …’

  ‘Jorrun?’ Osun demanded, standing up.

  ‘And the eldest girl was sold from Mayliz to Margith. She is my … she is our …’ Jorrun seemed to sway on his feet. ‘She is our niece, Osun. Kussim.’

  Osun blinked twice, unable to breathe for a moment. ‘Cass, go and get Kesta. Get all the ladies! Now!’

  Cassien almost ran for the door as Osun carefully took the scroll from Jorrun’s hands. ‘Bring them in, please, Rece.’

  The three girls had barely taken a step into the room before they almost fell to the floor to bow, with their foreheads pressed against the cold stone. Captain Rece glanced at Osun, his face gone scarlet as though he expected to be blamed. He grabbed at the youngest girl’s arm and tried to lift her to her feet. Osun found it interesting how quickly Rece and some of the other guards had come to see such things as shameful. Perhaps they always had.

  ‘No, stand please, sisters.’ Osun changed the tone of his voice to be gentle, without reprimand. ‘In this palace you do not bow.’

  He felt a surge of pride as Kussim looked up at him, then slowly got to her feet. The two younger girls copied, their eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

  ‘We are the Raven Coven,’ Osun went on. Jorrun stepped up silently beside him. ‘Our coven includes women who have power.’

  Kussim’s blue eyes flickered up to his again and a frown settled on her face.

  ‘My name is Osun, this is Jorrun. Kussim, we are your uncles.’ The last word came out as a harsh whisper as his chest muscles clenched and his throat tightened. All his life he could count the people he loved on the fingers of one hand, now here he was with friends, and a larger family.

  Kussim swallowed but didn’t speak. Jorrun realised before he did.

  ‘Kussim, you do not need permission to speak here.’

  The doors burst open and the guards were almost trampled as the women came running in. Sevi and Hylem were immediately surrounded, leaving Kussim alone facing Osun and Jorrun. Kesta walked into the audience room at a more sedate pace, Azrael hovering at her shoulder. Her eyes sought out Jorrun at once and she quickened her pace.

  ‘Cass gave us the news.’ She briefly touched Jorrun’s arm, the skin above her nose crinkling in concern. She glanced at Osun, smiled at Kussim and then her eyes widened and her mouth fell open at the sight of Farkle. ‘Who is our guest? Have you not offered him some water or better still hot tea or soup?’ Even as she spoke, she beckoned over one of the servants and issued him with polite instructions. The man smiled and nodded his head in a bow before hurrying away. Osun immediately felt defensive, he hated how the Fulmer woman could always make him feel guilty and bring up unwanted emotions, like lancing poison he didn’t even know was there.

  He gritted his teeth but forced himself to politeness. ‘This is my friend, Farkle Warne, from Margith. He escorted our girls here.’

  ‘We will have a room ready for you in just a moment, I’m sure you would like some time to recover from your long journey,’ Kesta said.

  ‘I was never a good traveller even before my body betrayed me.’ Farkle gave a shake of his head and pursed his thin lips. ‘I would appreciate a rest, um … mistress?’

  ‘Just Kesta.’ She smiled and without realising it, Osun smiled also.

  He turned to Kussim and saw she was staring at Kesta with eyes so wide they almost bulged. He cleared his throat. ‘Kesta, this young lady here is Kussim. According to the records at Margith she is Dinari’s daughter and, well, mine and Jorrun’s niece.’

  Kesta’s hands went to her mouth and she turned to look at Jorrun. ‘Truly?’

  Jorrun nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbed.

  Kesta reached up to touch Jorrun’s face and then she regarded the young girl. ‘Welcome to Navere, Kussim, this must all be overwhelming for you.’

  Osun wondered if Kesta was using her magic as the girl’s muscles relaxed a little and she finally blinked. Kesta’s eyes narrowed and she glanced at Jorrun and himself before calling over one of the other women.

  ‘Vilai, would you be kind enough to take young Kussim here up to the sisters’ quarters and settle her into a room?’

  Both Osun and Jorrun went to protest but Kesta raised a hand. ‘There will be time, but not now. This room is very busy, noisy and … strange. Let Vilai settle her in and explain how things are.’

  Osun felt a moment of irritation, surprised at how badly he wanted to get to know his niece and learn of his half-sister’s fate, but as he watched pretty Vilai, only a little older than Kussim, steer her toward the door, he realised it was the right thing to do.

  He drew in a deep breath and turning to Farkle offered his arm. ‘Come on then, Farkle, I’ll walk you up and you can tell me how your son is doing. You know there will always be a place here for him should he ever need it.’

  Farkle lifted a shaking hand and rubbed at the corner of his eye with two fingers. ‘Thank you, Osun, you have no idea how much that means to me.’

  Osun felt an uncomfortable tingling in his heart and glancing up he saw Vilai and Kussim disappearing around the corner. He had a horrible, itching suspicion that he would soon understand very well how Farkle felt.

  ***

  Osun watched out of the window. Far below he made out the shapes of Kussim and Vilai among the other women as they took their daily walk around the gardens. Some of the trees were now sparsely clothed and a beautiful patchwork of browns and reds was strewn across the long lawns. They’d taken several quiet dinners with Kussim, just himself, Jorrun, and Kesta, but the girl still barely spoke. Osun was hardly surprised, after all, her father had been Karinna and she’d then been sold on to his son, Adelphy, probably to be given to the most powerful of Adelphy’s followers. Kussim had no news of her mother, having no means to stay in touch after she’d been sold.

  ‘How is Farkle?’ Jorrun asked.

  Osun turned away fr
om the window and back to his study. He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. ‘Not good. I’ve sent a message to his son but I doubt he would get here before his father gives out, even if he set off immediately.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jorrun said.

  Osun swallowed, looking away from his brother. He waved a hand at him and sat heavily in the seat at his desk. He breathed in and out slowly, trying not to think of Farkle but turn his attention to the matter at hand. ‘So, what have we got today then?’

  Jorrun regarded him but said nothing.

  ‘Reports from the city guards.’ Jagna raised the papers he clutched in his hand. ‘As far as I can see there is nothing untoward in them. There are three matters that require your judgement though.’

  Osun held out his hand and Jagna handed him three sheets of paper.

  ‘Would you like me to deal with them?’ Jorrun offered.

  Osun looked up at his brother who was leaning against a bookcase at the side of the room. Jorrun had already managed to alter his loose-fitting Chemmish clothing into something much more elegant and tailored. ‘You do have experience with this sort of thing, but I really should do it myself.’

  ‘There is nothing wrong with delegating.’ Jorrun stood up straighter and unfolded his arms. ‘In fact, I think it’s time we started training some of the women in running the palace and city. We should start with Calayna, get her to shadow you, Osun.’

  Osun nodded. ‘She’d be my first choice for administration and even for matters like this.’ He tapped the reports Jagna had given him. ‘I’ll talk to her this afternoon.’

  ‘There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.’ Jagna pulled out a chair and sat at the desk opposite Osun, he glanced toward Jorrun. ‘I understand that we are not in a strong enough position at present, but I’d like you to consider taking another Seat and, well, letting me hold it.’

  Osun sat back to study his face. The younger man had coloured slightly, but he held Osun’s gaze.