by Emma Miles
Catya shuddered and wriggled in her chair to hide her discomfort.
‘She has never spoken of magic as far as I can recall.’ Rosa frowned. ‘Except to speculate about Jorrun and what he did in his tower along with all the other young ladies. I’ve never seen her possess any books on magic, in fact she was not over-fond of reading. Or studying.’ She sighed. ‘No, I cannot see it, but I might be wrong.’
‘I’m not sure what we can do about this. We won’t hear back from Jorrun in a long while. We may just have to leave it in Dia’s capable hand—’
There was a loud knock on the door.
‘Come!’ Tantony called out.
The door opened and Kurghan stuck his head through the gap. ‘Excuse me, Merkis.’ He glanced around at the others in the room, his gaze laying longest on Temerran before he looked back to Tantony. ‘May I speak freely?’
‘Please do.’
He stepped in and closed the door behind him. ‘My niece has just come back from Taurmaline. It’s not good, Merkis.’ Kurghan swallowed. ‘Dia has been arrested for witchcraft against the King.’
‘No!’ Catya leapt up, her heart leaping to her throat. ‘That’s nonsense!’
Temerran stood more slowly, placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘It is indeed.’
‘What do we do?’ Rosa looked around at them all.
‘Nothing in a rush,’ Tantony said sternly. He gestured for Catya and Temerran to sit back down. He drew in a deep breath. ‘Right. We need to go to Taurmaline to see for ourselves what’s going on. Rosa, write to the Queen and ask if you can visit with her.’
‘No.’ Rosa shook her head, looking down at her hands before turning to meet her husband’s eyes. ‘That will give her the chance to say no. We turn up and act surprised we’re not expected. It’s not unknown for a letter to go astray.’
Tantony nodded. ‘We’ll do that. Catya … Catya we’ll need you to stay and look after the Raven—’
‘No!’ She protested ‘I need t—’
‘You need to stay here with Temerran,’ Tantony emphasised. ‘And you’re the only one to go into Jorrun’s Tower. We need to take someone we trust with us to Taurmaline to get word back to you if we need you to join us.’ He looked from Temerran to Catya. ‘Someone who can hole up in an inn or something with a raven to send back.’
‘I’ll do it.’ Kurghan offered at once. ‘I have family in Taurmaline, I can stay with them. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve run off on a quest with you.’
Tantony grinned. ‘Very well. We’ll need to make a few preparations, but we’ll get going as soon as may be.’
‘If things get bad, if you can’t get Dia out,’ Temerran said. ‘Let me know sooner rather than later. My magic has its limits, but it might be enough.’
Tantony nodded, then reached his hand across the table. Temerran took it and they shook.
Catya wrapped her arms about herself and looked at Rosa across the desk. The older woman wasn’t Kesta, but she remembered Kesta’s words that Rosa was wiser than the both of them. Anxiety was a storm in her belly, but there was hope there too.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kesta; Covenet of Chem
Kesta turned the page, running her finger down it as her eyes devoured the words hungrily. She drew in a sharp breath, then bit at the end of her thumb, before releasing it to turn the next page. She sat back in her chair, rubbing at the back of her neck. The large volume on the table in front of her she’d found on the shelves, up on the balcony, one night as she lay unable to sleep. It contained instructions on magics she’d never heard of before, including how to briefly alter the structure of some objects so you could pass something living through them. She recalled the two times Jorrun had tricked her with that very magic, including their wedding day. She grinned to herself, she couldn’t wait to surprise him and pay him back somehow.
Her smile fell away, and she looked back down at the book. There was some other incredibly powerful stuff in this book, some of which she’d witnessed Dryn Dunham doing. Could she do any of these things? Was she strong enough?
A knock at the door made her flinch and she quickly closed the book.
‘Come in!’
Captain Rece stepped into the library, glancing around before giving her a polite bow. ‘Master, may I speak to you about something … about something a bit delicate?’
‘You can always speak to me about anything.’ She gestured to the chair beside her.
Rece glanced at her, his shoulders were hunched up, he sat on the edge of the chair. ‘Today I had to discipline two of my men.’
Kesta straightened, her stomach tightening.
Rece swallowed before going on. ‘They’d been fighting, they’d knocked the hells out of each other. It seems … it seems the fight was over one of the Raven Sisters. Vilai. I questioned them both and it turns out that one of them has been seeking to win, um, favours from the young sister, by bringing her gifts. He discovered she was … well, she has been lying with the other.’ Rece could barely meet her eyes. ‘I thought you should know.’
Kesta rubbed at her temple. This was going to be tricky, but at least the men had attacked each other rather than Vilai.
‘Take your helmet off, Rece.’
He stared at her as though she’d asked him to strip naked.
‘Go on.’ She nodded toward it.
Reluctantly he reached up and undid the strap, placing the helmet on the table. There were flecks of grey in his brown hair, especially above his ears.
‘Good.’ She smiled. ‘Now, I want you to listen to me, but wait until I finish before you react.’
He nodded.
‘Okay.’ She thought for a moment, looking up at the stained-glass window before turning back to him. ‘Explain it like this to your men. In the past, when it was considered women here were property, the man who owned a woman gave permission about who could lie with his women – including giving permission to himself. Now, in this palace, and soon in Navere, women own themselves, just as a man owns himself. A woman grants the permission about who can lie with her and a man grants the permission about who can lie with him. If Vilai has made no promises, then she may deny permission to the first of your men and grant it to the other at any point she chooses. However.’ She held up her hand, seeing that Rece was itching to speak. ‘I will speak with Vilai and explain to her that she needs to make her intentions clear, especially now when things are so new and delicate.
‘In my land, the Fulmers, men and women have sex with whomever they wish without commitment, but they generally make it known to each other if they are looking for something permanent. It saves misunderstanding and the chance of someone being hurt. If they fall in love and wish to make a promise to be exclusive with each other, then a walker will perform a hand fasting ceremony – a marriage. Please explain that to your men, and I will have a talk with the women.’
Rece nodded, he’d gone a little red in the face.
‘I’ll do that, master.’
‘Just Kesta, when you’re not wearing your helmet.’
His eyes widened and he glanced toward his helmet. He nodded slowly and met her eyes. ‘So, you have no objection to, um, relations between men and women of the palace?’
‘Of course not. As long as it’s consensual on both parts. In fact, if, in time, anyone wished to make a permanent arrangement I’d be delighted to perform a hand fasting ceremony.’
Was she mistaken or had Rece’s face reddened a little more? Was there someone the captain was thinking of? She decided not to pry.
‘You’ve given me a great idea, actually. I might see if anyone from the Rowen Order is brave enough to get married here at the palace.’
‘Maybe if we did it in a subtle way,’ Rece agreed reluctantly.
She called up her knowing and felt his concern.
‘Yes, I think subtle would be best too.’ She sighed. ‘Has the Elden ship arrived yet?’
Rece shook his head. ‘We are not expecting Merkis Teliff unt
il later today.’
‘Is there anyone waiting for an audience with me this morning?’
‘Yes.’ Rece frowned deeply. ‘There are two priests demanding to speak to a master.’
Kesta screwed her face up in disgust, then stood so quickly she made Rece jump. She patted his shoulder. ‘Come on, let’s get this over with.’
There were two guards waiting outside the library and they fell in behind Kesta and Rece. The captain opened the door to the audience room and checked it before holding the door open to let Kesta precede him. Calayna was waiting, pacing nervously, her shoulders sagged on seeing Kesta and she hurried over.
‘Some priests have come.’
‘I know.’ Kesta still had her knowing open and she sent reassurance toward the tattooed woman. She put an arm about Calayna’s shoulders and steered her back toward the chairs. Looking over her shoulder, she addressed Rece also. ‘In reality, how much control do the priests of Chem have?’
‘In terms of this life, of political and financial influence, quite a lot,’ Rece replied. ‘As conduits to the Gods, the priests can own your soul. Which god you choose can determine the path of your life. Although they have no voice in the Seats, they can certainly manipulate those that do.’
Kesta nodded. ‘Is it rude for me to ask which god you chose as your patron?’
Rece looked down at the floor, bringing his heels together. ‘I’ve always followed Seveda, the god of healing.’
Kesta opened her mouth, but closed her teeth quickly down tight. For a guard to follow the god of healing rather than the god of war seemed … well, a contradiction. Yet … for the man that stood in front of her, it somehow made sense. She turned to Calayna who was watching the captain, her mis-matched eyes unblinking. Realising she was staring, Calayna shook herself.
‘For women the priests mean nothing,’ she said. ‘Mostly. There are times when women are sent to the priests as gifts, as payment. To be used and ultimatel—’
‘No.’ Kesta raised both her hands. ‘I don’t want to know more or I’m likely to kill them the moment they step in.’
Rece stepped toward her in alarm. ‘Killing a priest condemns your soul to hell.’
‘Yes, I’m sure they tell you that.’ She clenched her fists and realised she was breathing fast. She forced herself to relax. ‘Calayna, come sit to my left. Rece, when you’re ready, let them in.’
The poor captain looked from her to Calayna, his mouth open and his eyes wide, but he gave a quick bow and strode across to the main doors. He instructed one of his men to let the priests in, himself standing to one side, staring straight ahead and as stiff as a broom, though his right hand rested on his sword hilt.
The doors opened and two men crept in, both with shaven heads and wearing blood-red robes. The taller of the two wore a necklace made of rat skulls dipped in gold, the shorter a simple black pendant with a large red stone set in it. It wasn’t hard for Kesta to guess these were priests of the death god, Hacren.
‘What is this abomination!’ Spittle flew from the tall one’s mouth. His eyes bulged and his face reddened.
Kesta feigned confusion, she looked behind her and then up at the raven banner. ‘What? This?’ She pointed. ‘I rather like it, actually. We did stitch it rather quickly, but it’s not that bad a job.’
‘How dare you speak, creature!’ The priest’s face was almost purple.
Kesta shrugged. ‘Well, you’re talking to me. It would be rude not to answer.’
‘You will be flogged! Burned! Where is your master?’
Kesta stood. Calayna shrank back in her chair. Rece glanced at her but otherwise didn’t move; he knew what was coming.
‘I have no master,’ Kesta said quietly, lowering her head but keeping her eyes fixed on the priests.
‘Then it’s true!’ The priest hissed, spitting on the floor. ‘This palace is a nest of demons!’
Kesta placed her hand behind her back, feeling her power flow to her fingertips. As furious as she was, she had to stay in control of her emotions. ‘No, this is just a place of truth, where men and women understand they are equal upon the earth and under the sky. Your old masters destroyed themselves with greed and arrogance, not understanding that power is a fragile thing that can be taken away with little warning. Cruelty only rules for so long before the oppressed will fight back, all it takes is someone to lead the way.’
The priest turned his head sideways to regard her with one eye. He reminded her of a bird trying to sight its prey to strike at, it made her feel sick. ‘You are right that the old masters destroyed themselves, but it’s not you who will rule in their place. The time of the gods is coming. Hacren is coming. Weak pretenders like you, abominations like you, will be his slaves!’
Fear gripped Kesta’s heart but she tried to keep it from her voice. ‘Send your god.’ She brought her hands around in front of her, flames leaping up from her fingers. The priests staggered back, the shorter raising his arms in front of his face. ‘And I’ll discuss my “weakness” with him.’
She heard Calayna gasp and Rece flinched.
Kesta called up wind and hurled the two priests down the hall to thud against the doors. Rece tensed, drawing his shoulders in, but he stood firm. Kesta strolled toward the two fallen men as they dragged themselves up, recalling the fire to her hands. ‘Like it or not,’ she said. ‘I’m a master and Navere is under my protection. I won’t interfere with your business if you don’t interfere with mine. Understand I do not fear you. If a god claims my soul then it’s between me and her. Hurt any of my people, threaten any of my people, and you will see your hell very soon!’
She stood over the two priests and they cowed away from the fire in her hands.
She withdrew her power and the fire went out. With a cheerful smile she waved at the guards either side of the door. ‘Kindly see these men out.’
The guards hesitated for a moment, eyes wide, before scrambling quickly to obey. Kesta sauntered slowly back toward Calayna, but she didn’t smile, she felt deeply troubled.
‘You shouldn’t have challenged the gods.’ Calayna stared at her. Rece hurried over to join them, his eyes wide and his face pale.
Kesta sighed. ‘We walkers don’t worry much about gods, we’ve never met one. We believe it’s your actions, your deeds, every day that count, not what some deity dictates. Being good because you’re afraid of the consequences is … insincere. Choosing to be a good person, to do the right thing, because your soul knows it should be so …that’s the measure of a truly good person.’
Calayna clasped her hands together under her chin, her eyes still wide. ‘Your words make sense, bu—’
‘But what god has ever helped the women of Chem?’ Kesta said angrily. ‘What god cares for their souls?’ She clenched her teeth, her face flushed, and she had to stop her fingers curling into fists. She looked at their frightened faces and exhaustion rushed through her body. Frustrated, angry tears pressed at her eyes and she blinked them back in annoyance. ‘Calayna, Rece, you’re both good people and it has nothing to do with gods and priests. You just know right from wrong. Please excuse me.’
She hurried from the room, heading back to the sanctuary of the library. She wished so, so much that Jorrun was there, or Rosa, or her mother. She had to content herself with hugging the blanket that still smelt a little of her husband. For some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, the priests had shaken her far more than she wanted to admit.
***
Kesta woke. The small vial of Jorrun’s blood she wore around her neck stung her skin with its heat. She sat up quickly, pulling the scrying bowl toward her and tipping water into it. Her heart was racing and she almost dropped the larger container of Jorrun’s blood as she grabbed for it to spill three drops in the bowl. Jorrun had already called her once this evening, what could be wrong?
His image formed in the water, she could see bare tree limbs moving beyond his head in the darkness. His face was shadowed, his eyes dark, but his mouth moved upwa
rd into a smile on seeing her.
‘Jorrun, are you safe? Why are you calling again?’ She curled her hand around the vial that hung from her neck, waiting for the vibration of his voice through her fingers.
‘I’m safe. I need you to come to Arkoom. I need you to bring the women.’
She stared at him, blinking twice with her mouth open before she shook herself. ‘Arkoom? But … what of Navere? Is it saf—’
‘Navere isn’t important now.’ Jorrun frowned. ‘I need you in Arkoom.’
His image faded and the vial in her hand cooled rapidly. She sat back on her heels, her pulse still rapid. Arkoom? Perhaps Jorrun had defeated Feren and needed her to help hold the capital. Still, to bring all the women and leave Navere undefended, that was … strange. She bit at her thumbnail.
‘He must have his reasons.’
Too disturbed to sleep, she called up her magic to light a lamp and went down the narrow stairs to the main floor of the library. In the days since the priests had visited, she’d begun to learn and practice two of the more powerful magics she’d found in Dryn’s books, as well as pushing the Raven Sisters harder in learning to shield with wind and control fire. They still had a long way to go, but if they continued their lessons on their way to Arkoom, they might at least be able to defend themselves.
She slammed her hand down on the table.
‘No. No, Jorrun, I’m not happy with this.’
She sat at the table, watching the lantern flame dance as she formulated her plan, considering her options and their possible outcomes. As light began to illuminate the coloured glass of the window, she went to find Calayna and Rece.
‘Is this a helmet off kind of meeting?’ Rece asked, as he slumped, bleary-eyed, in one of the chairs.
Kesta waved a hand at him. ‘It’s not a good meeting, that’s for sure. Jorrun has asked me to go to Arkoom.’
