by Emma Miles
‘Consider this.’ Jagna reached out to grab a map and unrolled it on the desk. ‘If we took the city of Mayliz, then we would hold a line right through the centre of Chem, basically have control of the trade routes that cross east to west.’ His finger ran down the parchment and he didn’t see the look Osun exchanged with Jorrun. Taking Karinna’s old seat appealed to them both for more reasons than one.
‘It has merit,’ Osun replied slowly. ‘But as you say we are not in a position to hold both here and Mayliz at the moment. When the women are better able to wield their magic perh—’
‘Talking of women,’ Jagna leaned forward over the desk. ‘How would you feel about some of us taking wives?’
Jorrun took a step forward, fist clenched. ‘What do you mean by taking?’
Jagna’s mouth fell open, but he recovered quickly and waved both hands at Jorrun. ‘No, no, nothing like that! I mean by consent. I … well, Estre and I have an understanding. She’s a bit older than me but she’s so smart and her magic is, I think, stronger than mine. She would make a perfect companion to me in ruling another Seat and I’m sure she could teach other women as Kesta does.’
‘And what does Estre think of all this?’ Jorrun’s eyes narrowed and he placed his hands palms down on the desk. Even Osun shrank back.
‘She is happy with the idea.’
Osun and Jorrun’s eyes met. ‘Another genuine marriage would be good for the palace and our plans for Chem.’ Osun chewed at his bottom lip. ‘Get Kesta to talk with Estre, if she’s happy then I don’t think we should say no.’
Jorrun nodded slowly, removing his hands and straightening up from the table.
‘You should think of looking for a wife too, Osun.’ Jagna grinned.
Osun flinched. He didn’t know why but the idea terrified him. An image of Kesta’s face, of the way she’d looked at him after she learnt he’d lain with Milaiya, forced itself into his mind and he clenched his fists under the table. ‘I don’t have time for that,’ he said with a tightened jaw. ‘Do we have any petitioners this afternoon?’ He turned to Jorrun.
‘Three.’ Jorrun sighed. ‘I can deal with them with Kesta if you want to spend time with Farkle?’
‘No, I’d best see them. Would you ask Calayna to join us in the audience room?’
‘Of course,’ Jorrun nodded, and with a glance through narrowed eyes at Jagna, he left the room.
***
Osun watched the skin trader stride out of the audience chamber, if the guards hadn’t been holding the doors open, he was certain the man would have slammed them shut behind him.
‘He has a point though,’ Calayna said slowly.
‘What?’ Osun turned to his right to stare at her in surprise. Kesta stopped stalking up and down behind the chairs like an angry cat and came to stand behind Jorrun. ‘What point?’ she demanded.
The tattooed woman leaned forward to look at Kesta, then Osun. ‘Some families have traded in people for decades, their entire fortunes are bound to it and they know no other way of life.’
Kesta snorted and opened her mouth, but Jorrun grabbed her wrist and Osun quickly spoke first. ‘I see where you’re coming from but don’t entirely agree. At the end of the day they are traders and can adapt to sell other goods.’
‘You will make powerful enemies,’ Calayna warned. ‘Changing things within the privacy of the palace is one thing, but trying to alter the entire economic base of Chem is another matter.’
Osun put his head in his hands and breathed out loudly. His head ached.
‘Don’t give up!’ He looked up to see Kesta looking down at him with her wide green eyes. ‘We knew this would take time, we just have to be clever.’
‘A gradual change would be best.’ Jorrun nodded. ‘Give a year’s notice for the cessation of the skin trade in Navere. Perhaps offer a reduction in trade tax for any new venture they might take up?’
Kesta drew in a sharp breath. ‘I have an idea. The slave market could be turned into a trade centre for goods from Elden, the Fulmers, and the Borrows. Give those awful men the first choice to run it, make it something exclusive and exciting to visit.’
‘It would draw in trade from the other cities.’ Calayna sat up. ‘Bring wealth to Navere. Surely the traders would grab such an opportunity?’
‘Some would.’ Jorrun winced. ‘Some enjoy their trade all too much and will miss the feeling of power the skin trade gives them.’
‘And you must think of the slaves also.’ Calayna dampened Osun’s feeling of hope still further. ‘What will become of them? There are many masters who might kill a slave or throw them out to starve rather than make them a servant and pay a wage – no matter how low. As for the women, that’s a whole different pit of vipers to walk through.’
Osun closed his eyes, all he wanted to do was sit in peace in the garden and drink a horn of geranna or two – and he hated geranna. ‘I’m going to have to re-write all the city laws, aren’t I? We should all take some more time to think about this.’ He opened his eyes and turned to Kesta. ‘Your idea is brilliant, though, and exciting. I’ll get enquiries made at once and see which slavers would get on board and if they are people we actually want.’
‘We’ll want a few of the Rowen Order involved in its running,’ Jorrun said.
There was a knock at the door and Captain Rece stepped in, breathing fast and red in the face. He gave a quick bow. ‘Excuse me, masters, there is a man at the gate, he claims to be a messenger from Arkoom. He is from Dunham Coven, a necromancer of the Overlord’s.’
Jorrun shot to his feet, but Osun found himself frozen.
‘Let him in,’ Jorrun said.
‘Should we call all the Raven Coven together?’ Calayna asked as Rece hurried away.
Osun glanced at his brother and Kesta. ‘No, let’s keep our strength, or lack of it, as quiet as possible for the moment, we’ll meet him as we are.’
‘Let me call Azrael, though,’ Kesta suggested.
Osun nodded. ‘Although he should stay out of sight.’
‘Should I demonstrate my strength if the opportunity presents itself?’ she asked.
Osun hesitated.
‘It might be good for Kesta to remain a mystery.’ Calayna shifted in her chair.
‘I’ll leave it to your judgement, Kesta,’ he decided.
‘Could this be a summons to Arkoom?’ Kesta had moved closer to Jorrun, their arms touching.
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions.’ Osun realised his pulse was racing and forcing himself to take in slow, deep breaths, he waved over one of the servants. ‘Bring some good wine and some light snacks to the audience room.’
The man nodded and hurried away.
It was some moments before Captain Rece brought the man in, time enough for Osun’s nerves to have frayed even further. The man wore an expensive dark-green, silk shirt under a calf-skin jacket. A gold chain with a blood amulet hung outside of his clothing and Osun wondered if it were deliberate, he had to refrain from turning to see Kesta’s reaction. If he looked really hard there was some resemblance to the Dunham’s in their visitor’s appearance. He had black hair, but it was curly like a Borrowman’s and his eyes were such a dark brown they were almost black. He was quite young, in his early twenties.
Captain Rece bowed and announced, ‘Masters, this is Gerant Irren, of Dunham Coven, Arkoom, spokesman for the Overlord.’
‘Hmm.’ Osun sat back, a slight smile on his face. Not a Dunham then, but a family with close blood ties. ‘I don’t recall electing a new Overlord?’
The man made no attempt to smile in return but glared at Calayna and Kesta through narrowed eyes. ‘Someone had to take control of Chem after the gods deserted us, but as you say, an election has not taken place. Lord Feren Dunham has called a meeting of the covens at the next full moon in just under a month, I’m making my way around the covens to give out the invitation in person.’
Osun swallowed, but managed to keep his polite smile fixed to his face. ‘I take it an off
icial Overlord will be elected then?’
‘Indeed,’ Gerant nodded, looking from Jorrun to Osun and back again. ‘I’d heard rumour that those who had taken the seat here were Dunhams, is it so?’
Osun raised a hand to point behind him. ‘We are the Raven Coven. I’m Osun Raven, these are Jorrun, Kesta, and Calayna Raven.’
The man lowered his head to look at them from under heavy eyebrows. ‘So that rumour is also true, you have women in your coven. You break the laws of Chem!’
Osun shrugged. ‘I’m writing new ones.’
‘You can’t do that. What you’re doing is unnatural.’ The skin of his face reddened.
‘That depends on your point of view,’ Kesta said, her voice calm and reasonable. ‘In my land it’s perfectly natural for women to lead and use magic, the only reason it isn’t so here is because fearful men decided to make it so. Now men of courage will change it.’
‘Over my dead body.’ Gerant showed his teeth.
‘Careful, Gerant,’ Jorrun said quietly. ‘We can grant that wish. Every Dunham we have met is dead.’
‘Come now.’ Osun stood quickly and Gerant took a step back. ‘We have gotten off to a bad start. We have different ways here but there is no need for us to be enemies. Will you remain as our guest tonight and eat with us? We can show you our trade plans and how adapting in Navere and opening up our harbour will benefit Chem, especially in our present economic climate. I’m sure Feren would like to hear what we’re doing and why we have made our little changes. Perhaps you could tell us more about your lord and his own plans so we can consider Navere’s vote at the full moon?’
Gerant’s mouth opened and closed several times before he stuttered, ‘Well, yes, that’s a very reasonable offer, but … but can I trust that a coven who so flouts the laws of Chem will hold to the laws of hospitality?’
‘I swear by the gods none will harm you under this roof so long as you yourself harm none,’ Osun said without missing a beat.
Gerant gave a bow. ‘Then I accept.’
‘Captain Rece here will escort you to a guest room.’
Rece’s eyes widened a little, but he nodded. Osun would have to trust the captain to arrange a room at short notice that would keep Gerant suitably out of the way.
‘Someone will escort you to dinner in about an hour.’ Osun smiled.
Gerant gave a slight bow of his head, his eyes darting to Kesta and Calayna again, before he followed the captain out.
As soon as the door closed, Calayna turned to him. ‘Osun, you really are good! You defused that so deftly.’
Osun gave a slight shake of his head, not able to meet her eyes. ‘We need him to think us friends when we arrive in Arkoom, or we are doomed before we set out.’
‘We’re going then?’ The skin above Kesta’s nose and around her eyes crinkled in concern. ‘In a month?’ She turned to look at Jorrun who also avoided her gaze. ‘We’re not ready.’
‘Ready or not,’ Jorrun replied. ‘We have to go.’
‘But the women can’t shield yet, let alone fight.’
‘They would have to stay here.’ Osun plucked up the courage to meet her mis-matched eyes. ‘With you. To protect the palace and Navere.’
‘No!’ Kesta spun about to look down at Jorrun. ‘I need to go, to fight with you to take Arkoom.’
Jorrun stood and touched her cheek gently with three fingers. ‘One of us has to stay to defend the women, we can’t take them with us to Arkoom with things as they are. You stay, or I stay.’
Osun swallowed and held his breath, Kesta turned to look at him and he could almost see the thoughts that stormed behind her eyes.
Her voice was barely a whisper, ‘I’ll have to stay.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dia; Fulmer Island
Dia sat bolt upright, gasping for air. Her heart pounded against her ribs and sweat ran down over her collarbone.
‘Dia?’ Arrus stirred sleepily at her side. ‘What is it?’
She breathed out slowly through her mouth, calling flames to her fingers and looking quickly around her familiar bedroom.
‘Dia?’ Arrus propped himself up on an elbow.
She shook her head. ‘I was having a nightmare.’ Her throat was still raw from crying, the skin around her eyes sore. It was several hours since she’d received news that Larissa was dead and that Temerran was being held for it. She still couldn’t believe it, it made no sense. How had things gone so wrong?
‘Did you dream of Larissa?’ Arrus prompted.
‘No.’ She frowned, lighting a candle from a distance and settling back against her pillow. ‘I don’t think so. I dreamt of Fulmer Island, only there were Eldemen warriors everywhere and …’
‘And?’
She swallowed, looking up at the wooden beams. ‘They were hanging people; I think they were walkers.’
Arrus leaned over to kiss her cheek and then took her hand in his larger one to stroke her fingers. ‘It’s hardly surprising you’re so unsettled. Have you decided what to do?’
‘I must go to Taurmaline and look into this myself, what else can I do? Bractius can’t even tell me how she died.’
‘I don’t like i—’
‘I know.’ She reached over and placed her free hand on his stomach, feeling it rise as he breathed in. ‘But she was a walker, and this threatens the fledgling peace between Elden, the Fulmers, and the Borrows. I’d normally say you should stay here and Worvig should come with me as he knows Taurmaline, but I think you should come.’
‘Of course I’m coming,’ he replied.
‘It’s Everlyn I’m torn about.’ She sighed. ‘With Larissa dead and Kesta still in Chem it’s Everlyn I’d turn to next to look after the Fulmers with Pirelle in my absence, yet she’s the one I’ll most need with me in Elden.’
Arrus grunted. ‘We need to train more walkers for fighting, ironic since we are supposed to be at peace.’
Dia stretched her legs, reaching a cold spot in the sheets with her toes.
‘Perhaps it will be enough to leave Heara here to run things with Worvig and Pirelle?’ Arrus suggested.
Dia laughed. ‘You can tell Heara she is staying behind if you like.’
Arrus chuckled. ‘Fair point. I’m not that brave a man. For what it’s worth, I think take someone other than Everlyn and leave her here. It means someone else gets the experience of dealing with Elden and shadowing you, while Everlyn remains here … just in case.’
Dia nodded, rolling over and letting Arrus snuggle her against him in a hug. ‘That makes sense. I might take Mimeth, she’s young but quite strong. I can practice some battle magic with her on our crossing over.’
She kissed Arrus and then pulled away from him to get up.
‘Where are you going?’ He sat up.
Dia pulled on her trousers and buttoned a jacket over her night shift. ‘To send a messenger to Fox Hold to get Mimeth here as soon as possible. We need to be on our way to Taurmaline.’
Arrus lay back down with a groan. ‘You’re right, of course. Give me a moment and I’ll come with you, I need to sort which warriors to take with us, anyway.’
***
A sick feeling settled in Dia’s stomach as she sighted castle Taurmaline across the lake. She pulled her long cloak more tightly around her body, the strong wind making her blink rapidly to save her eyes from stinging.
‘It’s so big, Icante.’ Mimeth spoke beside her. The young walker had skin darker than most, shoulder length black hair, one brown eye and one hazel.
Dia nodded. ‘It does seem intimidating. So many people will be confusing and overwhelming to your knowing until you learn to filter it out.’
‘Catya, slow down!’
Dia turned around at Heara’s exasperated shout. The young girl was climbing down the main mast with the confidence of a squirrel. She wished Heara had left the girl behind, but she could understand why she hadn’t. Heara had come to love Catya as fiercely as though she were her daughter, but somehow lacked
a mother’s paranoid fear for her safety, not checking the girl near often enough for Dia’s liking.
They were drawing close to the dock and Dia moved out of the way, remaining on the deck so she could keep a watchful eye on the castle and the city. It looked much the same as when she’d left it, which felt somehow obscene considering the death of a beautiful young walker. She sighted Temerran’s glossy ship, the Undine, bobbing at anchor among the comparatively ungainly Elden ships. It hurt somehow, to see it captive there, as though a wild bird had been chained.
They were met by one of the King’s advisor’s, Merkis Dalton, and Dia realised that the King had sent the most important person he could other than meeting her himself. Merkis Vilnue fell in beside his countryman as they were escorted to the castle. The newly made Elden Ambassador had insisted on coming and Dia was glad. She trusted the man and didn’t doubt his friendship and even loyalty to the Fulmers. She couldn’t help but wonder, though, if there was trouble, which side would Vilnue take?
The King met them on the steps to the castle. He looked older to Dia, more lines about his eyes and the skin of his face seemed greyer and less taut. He kissed Dia’s cheek and shook Arrus’s hand in both of his, holding it a moment longer after shaking it.
‘My deepest condolences to you both, and to the Fulmers,’ he said. ‘I still don’t know how this happened under my roof.’
Dia forced herself to thank him. From her knowing she felt his genuine grief, his confusion and a deep, underlying exhaustion. Larissa had said something about him not sleeping, hadn’t she?
‘Please, come within.’ The King gestured for them to walk beside him. Merkis Dalton set about directing the warriors they’d brought with them. Only Mimeth, Heara, and Catya remained with Dia and Arrus. ‘As your young warrior, Dorthai, requested, poor Larissa is laying down in the dungeons. It didn’t seem at all fitting, but it’s cold there and the best we could do to keep …’
‘It’s all right.’ Dia felt sorry for the man and touched his arm. ‘We in the Fulmers believe when the spirit is fled, the body matters not except to return to nourish the land that once nourished it. It’s important to us Larissa comes back to the Fulmers, but we are not offended at where you’ve had to put her. Tell me, do you still hold Temerran under guard?’
