by Glenda Larke
“Are they? Not yours, I think. Not so easily.” She sighed. “All we can do is support each other. Right now, I think I had better go back to the ship before Saker finds out I sneaked off on one of the prau.”
“Foolish. But… unbelievably brave.” He smiled at her. “I will remember.”
My heart, he thought, has long since mended.
40
Sliver of Hope
Sorrel, seated amidships in the pinnace, looked over her shoulder as the three of them sailed out of the lagoon and into the open ocean, on their way to Batuguli. Dawn was breaking over the sea to the east, and Ardhi had said it was a two-hour sail to reach their destination. Piper was in the capable arms of Surgeon Barklee once more, but she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt at leaving her behind.
Is there no shorter way, by road?” she asked Ardhi.
“We don’t have roads.”
“All right, by path, then.”
“We sail everywhere. That’s as it should be. We live on the coast. The interior is the home of the Raja’s Chenderawasi. We do not trespass there without a reason.”
“Why would the Rani ask us to meet her at this particular place?” Saker asked. He gave the sail an anxious glance as he spoke. Ardhi had earlier given him a quick lesson on managing the mainsheet, but from the look on his face, he wasn’t sure he could.
“To remind me of my past, of my guilt,” Ardhi said. “It’s not far from the forest pool where the Raja was murdered. It’s on the bay where the Lowmians anchored after listening to my drunken rambling.” He shrugged. “I can hardly blame her.”
It hurts you nonetheless, Sorrel thought. But then, that’s what the Rani wants, I suppose. She wanted to say something to comfort him, but had no idea what words could possibly assuage such hurt. When you know you are to blame, there is nothing anyone can say to make it better.
As the boat scudded along the coast, she tried not to consider the past or worry over what was about to occur, but even the scenery conspired to unsettle her. The interior Ardhi referred to was rugged and forbidding, utterly unlike the hills of her childhood or anywhere she’d lived since. In appearance, these were not hills, but mountains. Crags and peaks and ridges towered high enough to be scraped by the frowning underside of passing clouds. The steep slopes were streaked with the tears of waterfalls, and every cranny, every hollow, every protuberance was draped in lavish verdure. It was magnificent–and terrifying. There was nothing subtle. Nothing gentle. Nothing tamed.
Sweet Va, we barely tickled the foothills on our walk to see the Rani. These people live on the fringe of something… She hunted for the right word. Primal, perhaps? Ancient, certainly.
The beaches and the fringing reefs were so beautiful they took her breath away, but that scenery was alien to someone from the Va-cherished Hemisphere. The sunlight was brighter here, the colours more brazen, the fish more gaudy. The white sands glared; the blue of the ocean dazzled.
“What are you thinking?” Ardhi asked.
“That this place makes me feel pale and colourless.”
He shook his head. “You could never be colourless.”
Saker gave him a surprised glance and Sorrel blushed. Ardhi changed the subject, ordering Saker to haul on the sheet. The sail flapped, then caught the wind as the boat changed direction and sped on its way.
“Have you had any luck with your bird lookouts?” she asked Saker.
He shook his head. “I’ve ten or so patrolling. I think they are doing what I ask, which is to look for ships as they hunt food, but it’s like–like talking to Piper. You can’t be sure how much she understands, or how long she will remember what you told her, or whether her crying means, ‘I’ve hurt myself ’, or ‘I’m scared’, or ‘I’m hungry’.” He sighed. “I hate controlling them. They should be wild and free.”
“And perhaps that is one reason why you have that particular witchery,” Ardhi said. “You respect the birds.”
“I don’t remember thinking about birds one way or another before the witchery was granted.”
“A Shenat witan would always respect living creatures, though,” she said. “Why do you think you were granted the ability to climb, Ardhi?”
“It happened after Raja Wiramulia died.” He frowned. “I’m not sure, but it could have been to be a good sailor on one of your tall ships. It’s dangerous there in the rigging. Sakti needed me alive.”
The witchery knows…
Or was it Va? Or the unseen guardians? The Avian Chenderawasi? All three? She was no longer certain of anything.
An hour later they sailed into a bay. Halfway along the beach, boulders were piled up into a tumbled heap, interrupting the curve of the sand.
“That’s where we’re going,” Ardhi said.
“Now I understand why the Rani chose this place,” Saker said. “It’s so she can stand on top of the tallest rock over there and look down on us on the beach.”
Ardhi ignored that, and his face was unreadable, but Sorrel noticed the slight tightening of his hand on the tiller. What was the matter with the two of them? It was as if they didn’t like one another any more. Ardhi turned the boat towards the sandy shore, and when the wind had spilled from the sail, he ran the pinnace up on to the sand. As they left the boat, a bird gave a call from the trees. She spun around, but saw nothing. The sound carried, loud and mellow, filling the air.
“One of the guardians,” Ardhi said, “telling the Rani we’re here.”
It was hot on the exposed sand, so she walked over to the shadow cast by the largest of the boulders. Ardhi and Saker stayed where they were, neither of them talking. She looked from one to the other, wondering what had gone wrong. It’s Saker, she thought. He was not only devastated by the idea that Piper could grow up to be something evil, but also tormented that he couldn’t do anything about it. He’d thought that bringing her to the islands would solve something, and it hadn’t.
How tired I am, she thought with surprise. Tired of going where the current takes us. When do I get to make the decisions?
Even now, because she couldn’t speak to the Rani herself, she was extraneous. She couldn’t argue the case for Piper. She couldn’t even understand what was happening until one of the men explained afterwards. Rage coursed through her.
I count, she thought. And so does Piper. It wasn’t right that either of them were just so much flotsam on the surface of the ocean, unable to chart their own course.
A moment later, a shadow swept across the sands. Sorrel looked up in time to see the Rani glide overhead, the air whispering through her feathers. She had something gripped in her claws. She landed on the tallest boulder and Sorrel almost laughed. Saker had the Rani’s measure.
Ardhi was tight-lipped as he kneeled and made a gesture of abeyance. Saker removed his hat and bowed as well, but Sorrel–in a fit of pique and bravado–stood ramrod straight and looked the bird straight in the eye.
Your magic brought me here against my will, she thought. And I think that I am just fed up with the arrogance of royalty!
Saker was annoyed. What in all this forsaken land was Sorrel doing, standing there as if they weren’t the ones who wanted something? Piper’s future depended on what was about to be decided! He glared at her, but she wasn’t looking his way.
I have discussed this matter with our elders and we have made decisions, the Rani said. She smoothed down some of her ruffled feathers with her beak and shook out her tail.
“We will abide by them,” Ardhi said.
But the lascar didn’t possess the right to decide that for Sorrel and him, Saker thought, his annoyance growing.
There is more than one problem here, the Rani continued. We desire to halt your traders coming to our islands until such time as you have proved your worth and integrity. That first problem is ours, rather than yours.
She turned her head to eye Saker beadily, as if she counted him as one of those lacking worth and integrity. The second problem is one we share: the future possibilit
y of a sorcerer on the throne of this land you call Lowmeer. If this occurs, no one is safe anywhere, including the Pulauan Chenderawasi. A sorcerer abides by no rules save his own.
The third problem pertains to the child you guard. This is your problem, not ours, as is the fourth problem, the sorcerer who sired her. Do you agree with this assessment?
Ardhi looked across at him, and Saker nodded.
“Yes,” said Ardhi. “Although that latter sorcerer might be a problem to you too. He has an interest in the spice trade.”
She flared her neck ruff as if that statement had unsettled her. The first problem Chenderawasi humans will solve themselves. They will sell their nutmeg in Serinaga, or sell to those Pashali who come here and are known to us already. If any more of your ships come, they will be sunk. Your task will be to extend that message to your Rajas, so that they are warned.
“That will be done,” Ardhi agreed.
Pickles ’n’ pox, Saker thought. “I don’t think you realise the power of the cannon that ships from Lowmeer and Ardrone—”
That is not your concern, she interrupted. Next time we will be prepared. We have sakti, and it will be used, just as you must use your witcheries to save yourselves from the sorcerers.
Ardhi dug him in the ribs with an elbow, and Saker subsided.
So we will solve the first problem, and you will solve the others. But we will aid you with those. She bent her head to pick up one of the items she’d been carrying in her claws. One of these is for each of the twins. She dropped what she was carrying down to Sorrel, who, startled, just managed to catch the falling items.
She turned them over and over in her hands. They were identical circlets woven from soft golden filaments. She guessed they had been made from the Raja Wiramulia’s regalia plumes.
“What are they for?” Saker asked.
While a sorcerer wears this, the sorcerer’s evil will remain subdued, their power weak. The children should begin wearing these as soon as possible. Your dilemma will be this: once the children are old enough, they can remove it, or someone else can. And once they’ve removed it, or someone else has, they’ll never want to put it back on again. Be wary, for their sorcerer parent will sense its presence, the same way he smells that smudge on your hand, Saker.
“So,” he said, “it’s a temporary solution.” He looked over at Sorrel. “I’ll explain later.”
The best solution for everybody would be to kill both children, the Rani added.
“That’s the one thing we won’t do.”
She clapped her beak together several times, and he guessed it was a gesture of scorn, an Avian snort of disgust as if to say there was no understanding humans. Allow them to live, then you must remember, their children will also be sorcerous.
There is one other thing we have to help you, she continued. Ardhi, you have your kris. If you choose to stay in Chenderawasi, you must surrender it to me. If you intend to leave, then you may take it with you, and use it in the service of ridding the world of these sorcerers. You other two humans will need something stronger than the witcheries you have. We have little knowledge of your world or your sorcerers, so what we have crafted is simple and may or may not help. Because we cannot trust you, it is also limited.
She leaned over the edge again, this time dropping two pieces of bambu down to Saker. They were identical, about the length and width of his thumb. One end was solid, the other had been corked with a carved stopper, also made of bambu, all of it carved with intricate patterns. Wordlessly, Saker handed one over to Sorrel.
Each contains three small pieces from the Raja’s glory plumes. Each piece can be used only once. Beware, for there is often a sting in the tail. Ardhi knows.
“Thank you,” Saker said. “But—”
That’s all. Ardhi knows the stories. She looked from him to Ardhi to Sorrel. You have accomplished much together as a ternion. Yet two males and a breeding female rarely works when neither male is subordinate, so remember: those who fly alone, die alone. Think well on that.
“Ardhi must make his own choices,” he said. “I have no right to ask him to leave Chenderawasi again.”
Perhaps not, she agreed. But it is more complex than that, isn’t it, Ardhi? Just remember, the cockbird may pose the question, but it’s the hen that has the answer.
With those words she lifted into the air and was gone in a burr of beating wings.
Saker stared at Ardhi, speechless.
There was a long silence, while Sorrel looked from one to the other, waiting for them to explain what had happened.
“Oh, blistering pox,” Saker muttered finally.
“Right,” Sorrel said. “I want to know every word that was said. Every. Single. Word.”
The wind conspired against her. Saker gave a sketchy outline of the Rani’s words as they pushed the boat back into the sea, but after that, a rough sea made talking difficult. Words were snatched away as soon as they were uttered, and steering the boat and managing the sail occupied the men’s full attention. A proper discussion would have to wait, and so would an explanation of why the Rani’s final words had silenced the two men so effectively.
Sorrel held on to the two pieces of bambu and the two circlets. She didn’t dare unstopper the bambu in the wind, but she did examine the woven circles. They were gold-coloured, but it was obvious they weren’t metal. They were far too light and if she had not kept a grip on them, the wind would have ripped them away. They were both the same: strands of golden filaments woven into one flexible chain without a catch, to be worn around the neck, she assumed. From what Saker had told her, it came from tail feathers. She had no idea how it could be so strong, but it obviously was.
She looked forward to hearing all the details, but just as they sailed into the lagoon, Saker received a garbled picture from one of his seabird lookouts.
“A tern has returned. It seems to have sighted a ship just over the horizon,” he told Lord Juster as soon as they had clambered up the pilot’s ladder on to the deck of Golden Petrel. “From the picture I’m getting in my head, it could be a Lowmian vessel.”
“Can you ask it to take a look at the flag?”
Saker shot him a look of irritation. “By all the acorns on an oak, have you any idea of how clay-brained ordinary birds are? It’s almost all I can do to stop them thinking with their stomachs!”
Juster ordered the ship’s company to prepare for immediate sailing.
Sorrel, after retrieving Piper from Barklee, soon discovered that the word “immediate” was more the captain’s optimism than fact. Although the activity on board changed from being merely busy to frenetic, it was obvious departure was still hours away. There was loose cargo and provisions to be properly stowed, Chenderawasi traders and labourers to be paid, sailors on shore leave to be found, sails to be readied.
When she saw several of the new sails had red emblems she did not recognise, and that painted canvas was being draped over the sides of the ship and hung in odd configurations along the deck, she turned to Saker in puzzlement. “What’s going on?”
“He’s changing the appearance of the ship. From a distance, especially as it gets dark, our shape won’t look like Golden Petrel’s. The emblem is a Pashali one. If the Lowmians don’t recognise us, they won’t attack. Juster has decided to leave them to the Chenderawasi to deal with. The islanders don’t want our arguments fought on their soil.”
She was incredulous. “Lord Juster had all this prepared from the time he left Throssel?”
“This ship is a privateer, Sorrel. This is what they do. Pretend to be someone else, fly the wrong flag, deceive the unwary, and then at the last moment reveal their true colours and attack.”
“That–that’s dishonest!”
He quirked an eyebrow and she found herself laughing. “All right, I’m clay-brained, I know.”
“At least this time, he’s doing it so that they leave us alone and aren’t suspicious of anything being awry when they anchor in the lagoon. They’ll fin
d out soon enough, I suppose, when none of their factors are there to greet them.”
Her stomach twisted unpleasantly. “They have cannon. From an anchorage here, they could bombard the town. Innocent people could die!”
“No one has asked for our help,” he said gently. “In fact, quite the opposite. They want us gone.”
“Ardhi—”
“Ardhi is going into Bandar Ruanakula, with Juster’s permission, to warn the mayor, Tuan Sri. Look, why don’t you go below? I’ll come down and see you later, to tell you everything. Juster has a couple of things he wants me to attend to, but really most of the time, we’re just in the way.”
She looked around at the bustle and realised he was right, so she nodded and retreated to her cabin. She played with Piper, fed her when she was hungry, then put her to sleep on her bunk in the mid-afternoon. When she was hungry herself, she picked up some fruit, bread and cheese from the galley and returned to the cabin.
A few minutes later Saker was knocking at her cabin door. She let him in and went to sit on the edge of the bunk. He seated himself on the cabin’s only other item of furniture, a sea chest.
“I want to know everything the Rani told you,” she said.
“That’s why I came,” he said, and launched into an account of all that had transpired between him, Ardhi and the Rani. When he’d finished, she picked up one of the circlets. “Shall I put it on her?” she asked.
He nodded.
She lifted the sleeping child and slipped it over her head. It was too large–large enough for the adult she could one day be. Piper stirred, then settled. “I suppose that offers us some hope–especially if we can keep the Prime away from both the children. At least he doesn’t know that Piper even exists.”
“He has to die, Sorrel. We have to stop him.”
“Just like that? Where did either of us learn how to fight a sorcerer? Someone who already has a position of power–who is even supposed to be your superior!” She picked up one of the bambu pieces, pulled out the stopper and tipped the contents into her palm.
