‘He really hasn’t grown,’ Paragian whispered. ‘I know you told me, but… He’s exactly the same. How can this be?’
‘The mystery of the gifts is still being unravelled,’ Reoden said and she led him and his devotee back to the tent.
Imoshen watched as Sardeon finished his exercises. The boy turned and looked up to her, meeting her eyes. Her gift surged.
He knew. He was sharp.
Cerafeoni called the next set of moves. Sardeon’s natural elegance made every kick and strike a thing of beauty and precision. Meanwhile, Ronnyn moved with the grace of a born dancer. They were well suited. And they had become fast friends, but with every passing year the age difference would pull them further apart…
Imoshen went back to the tent, where they were sipping their spiced wine. She knelt next to Reoden.
‘…so you see,’ the healer was saying, ‘even though he is seventeen tomorrow, I cannot return him to the brotherhood. He’s welcome to stay with me for…’
‘Forever?’ Paragian sounded devastated. ‘Will he be like this forever?’
‘We don’t know,’ Reoden admitted. ‘We just don’t know.’
JARAILE WAS DETERMINED not to slow down the army, so she rode without complaint all through that first long day. Sorne kept them marching from dawn until well after dark when the men ate a cold meal and slept on the ground. But he insisted on erecting a tent for her comfort.
‘Jaraile, you are their queen. Let them treat you like a queen,’ he told her.
So he set up a brazier to keep her warm and a hot meal was prepared for her and her barons. Dekornz was the youngest at fourteen; Dittor’s brother had joined the church and never expected to be leading men. Baron Ramanol was the most experienced of the lot of them, and the closest he’d come to war was keeping his brother company during the siege of the Wyrd city. Then there was Aingeru, who listened and said little. Also present were the king’s guard and Dekornz’s tutor. The only person not at the table was Sorne, and it was his opinion she most wanted to hear.
As the men talked, Jaraile gathered the barons who supported Eskarnor each had a core following of ruthless ex-mercenaries. The old Chalcedonian aristocracy despised the southern barons and feared their men. They talked of how Eskarnor’s army would be camped in the fields outside the port. Baron Ramanol did not like their chances without superior numbers. When they all retired for the night, Sorne slipped out of the private chamber at the back of the tent to join her.
‘You heard them?’ she asked. ‘They’re saying it will be pure butchery if we go up against Eskarnor’s men. They’re saying there is no way we can use the lie of the land to our advantage, because there’s hardly a hill within sight of the port.’
‘Then we will have to use guile and lead Eskarnor into making an error. In the early days of his campaign, after half his barons deserted him and he’d invaded Maygharia, I once saw Charald lure a larger army into a devious pincer manoeuvre.’
‘Show me what you mean.’
Sorne demonstrated with the remains of someone’s meal, moving the food around the plate. ‘The ground was flat and the opposing armies lined up like so, facing each other. Charald put his best men in the centre, with instructions to retreat on his signal. When they did, the opposing army gave chase, pouring into the gap created by their retreat and the two sides of Charald’s men closed around them in a pincer attack.’
‘So simple.’
‘Not easy to do. Pick the wrong moment and you’ll be routed. If the men commanding the arms of the pincer don’t close in quickly enough, your army will be divided.’
‘Still, could we do that?’
‘This battle happened before Eskarnor joined our army. But he’s cunning. He may not fall for the ruse.’
She nodded. She knew how smart the baron was.
Just then a messenger arrived, looking for Sorne.
Jaraile watched as Sorne unfolded the message and read it.
He lifted his head, his expression solemn. He turned to the messenger. ‘I’ll write a reply. Take it straight to Baron Kerminzto, and I’ll thank you not to speak a word of this on your way out.’
The man nodded.
Sorne handed Jaraile the message and sat down to write. Nitzane was injured, half his men were lost, half of her kinsman’s men were also dead and the port blockaded.
Her heart raced. She felt sick with shock and horror. ‘How could everything go so wrong?’
‘Wait.’ Sorne held up his hand as he finished writing. ‘I’ve told Kerminzto we’ll be there within a couple of days and to do nothing until we arrive.’
He sealed the message and handed it to the man who left.
‘Give me that.’ Sorne held out his hand and Jaraile passed him the original message. He burned it.
‘Now, how will we –’
‘Remember how I told you sometimes the battle is won in the minds of men before one blow falls?’
She nodded and watched the flames until the message was reduced to ash.
‘Our men don’t need to know this.’
‘What possessed Nitzane?’
‘He has always been impulsive. I was hoping Captain Ballendin would be able to advise him, but I imagine Eskarnor manipulated him. Nitzane rode out in challenge with his men. Eskarnor surrounded them, cut them off; this forced Kerminzto to attack, which allowed the remnants of Nitzane’s men to get back inside the gate with the injured baron. But Kerminzto lost of a lot of good men. How Eskarnor must be laughing.’ Sorne ground his teeth.
‘And the port’s under blockade? You said he had no ships.’
‘Eskarnor sent a company of men to steal five ships. The headlands are narrow. They’re not letting anyone in or out.’
‘Aren’t you glad now that I refused to sail back to port?’
He grinned, despite the grim news. ‘Jaraile… King Charald did not appreciate you as he should have.’
She blushed, then held his eyes. ‘Are we riding to our deaths? With the loss of Nitzane and my kinsman’s men, Eskarnor has the larger army. According to Ramanol –’
‘Who’s twenty-two and has never been to war. Numbers are not the only things that win battles. War is not like the counting of tithes.’
She liked the way Sorne talked to her, as if he expected her to understand and valued her judgement. She would never have let Eskarnor manipulate her into riding out from behind perfectly defensible walls. She wanted to grab Nitzane and shake him. Come to think of it, the baron had often made her feel that way.
Sorne poured them both a glass of wine. ‘Eskarnor has more men and they are battle-hardened, while the majority of our men are reluctant warriors. But I’ve been battling against the odds since I was seventeen, and you know what that’s like. We’ll have to be cunning. We’ll have to lure Eskarnor into making a mistake.’
Jaraile went to bed lighter of heart. Until she remembered it was only five days until winter’s cusp. What was she going to do without Sorne?
Chapter Twenty-Three
TOBAZIM WAS SURPRISED when the castle-keep at Shifting-sands Stronghold welcomed them back. Then he realised she wanted them to take Valendia with them when they left.
‘Not that she isn’t a sweet girl,’ the woman said, as she led them up to the baron’s best bedchamber. ‘But she belongs with her own kind, and it’s only three days to winter cusp.’
The castle-keep stopped in front of the chamber door. ‘I’ll send up a meal. I expect you’ll be famished.’ And she bustled off.
Tobazim could feel Graelen’s roused gift as the warrior knocked on the door.
It flew open. ‘Grae?’ Valendia’s brilliant smile faltered as she took in Tobazim and Iraayel. ‘Where’s Sorne? Is he all right?’
‘Sorne’s fine,’ Graelen said.
As they followed Graelen into the chamber, his devotee sent Tobazim a wary look.
‘We’ve formed an alliance,’ Graelen said.
‘You did?’ She threw her arms around him, kissing him.
‘I’m so glad.’
Laughing, he picked her up and kissed her with great tenderness. It was a side of Graelen that Tobazim had never seen, or imagined existed.
The big adept led his devotee over to the chairs by the fireplace. ‘I’m glad you approve, Dia, but our troubles are not over. When we go back to the ship, Tobazim will have to challenge Kyredeon.’
‘Do you want me to leave?’ Iraayel offered.
‘Why?’ Valendia asked.
‘He’s not one of our brotherhood, and we’re discussing brotherhood business,’ Graelen explained.
‘He is brotherhood,’ Tobazim said. ‘If I survive the challenge, he’ll be welcomed as one of us.’
Iraayel flushed and dropped to his knees. ‘Thank you, all-father.’
Tobazim took him by the shoulders and drew him to his feet with a laugh. ‘Let’s not rush things. First we have to deal with Kyredeon.’
They had been gone thirteen days. Tobazim dreaded to think what might have happened in that time. Just then, the servants arrived with their meals. They ate by the fire as they discussed who in the brotherhood would come over to support Tobazim. If enough of them severed their brotherhood links to the all-father, they would weaken Kyredeon. But would it weaken him enough for Tobazim to defeat him? The problem was that the brothers knew if Kyredeon won, he would execute everyone of high rank who had stood against him, and those he let live would have a miserable existence under his rule.
Iraayel listened to all of this, his eyes following them as they spoke. It was the sort of thing most brotherhood warriors weren’t privy to, let alone a lad of sixteen who had not yet given his vows.
When they had argued themselves back to the start again, Iraayel said, ‘If it’s power you need, why not ask my choice-mother to gift-infuse you?’
Tobazim’s heart leapt and his gift surged at the thought. An infusion of her power could give him the edge he needed.
Valendia turned to Graelen. ‘I thought you said the causare could not interfere in brotherhood business?’
‘She shouldn’t. If the other brotherhoods knew…’ Graelen did not need to spell it out.
‘She won’t be interfering,’ Iraayel said. ‘She will gift-infuse you both as a reward for saving my life. It’s no lie. You did save me at least twice, after all.’ He grinned and shrugged. ‘You can’t help it if by chance she gift-infuses you on the very night you offer challenge to Kyredeon. Coincidence, nothing more.’
‘I like him,’ Graelen told Tobazim. ‘He has a devious mind. But seriously, Tobazim, what he says makes sense. You can’t survive tonight without the causare’s gift-infusion. And you should take Ardonyx as your shield-brother.’
It was everything Tobazim wanted, and it was right there for the taking. But he would find it doubly hard to resist the lure of Imoshen’s gift if he…
‘You wouldn’t be indebted to her, as she’d be rewarding you for saving my life,’ Iraayel said, misinterpreting his hesitation.
‘It’s decided then.’ Graelen stood and went to the balcony, opening the doors to look down on the T’Enatuath’s fleet. ‘We’re in luck. There’s a fog tonight. Kyredeon won’t see us coming. You’ll have time to find Ardonyx and form the shield-brother bond, Tobazim.’ He returned to stand over them. ‘There are too many people relying on you to hesitate now.’
A HAND TOUCHED Imoshen’s shoulder. She looked up to see her hand-of-force standing over her. ‘Yes?’
Kiane signalled for silence and led Imoshen across the packed cabin, stepping over sleeping children and inner circle sisters to the passage, where she turned to face her. ‘Iraayel is here –’
‘Where?’ Imoshen glanced past Kiane’s shoulder to the door at the end of the passage. ‘Why didn’t you bring him in?’
‘He’s with two brotherhood warriors. Tobazim and –’
Ardonyx, of course. Imoshen darted around her and ran down the passage. She had not had a private moment alone with Ardonyx since midsummer, when they had slipped away to tryst. Back then they’d planned for him to win Tobazim’s trust and support the young adept so he could take over the brotherhood. Now they’d come to her with Iraayel.
She threw open the door. The fog was so thick she could barely make out Iraayel standing in a halo of lamplight.
‘You’re back safe!’ She threw her arms around him. Skin to skin, she sensed his gift and knew it was riding him tonight.
‘I’m not alone,’ he warned and beckoned the others.
As a hard-faced gift-warrior stepped out of the fog, Imoshen took a step back.
‘It’s all right,’ Iraayel assured her. ‘This is Graelen. He saved my life, twice. So did Tobazim. You need to gift-infuse them as a reward.’
‘Iraayel…’ Tobazim muttered. He gave the formal obeisance. ‘Causare Imoshen. Apologies for the lad, he’s over-excited.’
Imoshen blinked. Since when did Tobazim assume responsibility for her choice-son? She glanced from one to the other and read a bond, forged by danger and cemented by mutual respect. The same thing united them to Graelen.
‘And this is Dia,’ Iraayel added, drawing a beautiful young Malaunje woman forward. ‘She’s Sorne’s sister.’
‘I’m so glad you’re safe, Valendia.’ As Imoshen took her hands, she read a rich joy in her and identified its source. ‘You are with child, congratulations. If there is ever anything I can do for you, just ask. I owe Sorne more than I can say.’
Valendia blushed and stepped back to join Graelen.
Imoshen turned to Iraayel. ‘Speaking of Sorne, where is he? Did you save the Mieren queen?’
‘Sorne is marching for port with Queen Jaraile at this moment,’ Iraayel said. ‘You need to gift-infuse Tobazim and Graelen tonight, or they’ll be killed and I won’t have a brotherhood to go to.’
‘Manners!’ Kiane muttered, coming up behind Imoshen. ‘Your choice-mother raised you better than this, lad.’
‘We don’t have time to stand on ceremony. It has to happen now,’ Iraayel said.
‘It’s all right,’ Imoshen told her hand-of-force. As far as Tobazim knew, she had gotten to know him and Ardonyx while they served on the exile-council. So it wouldn’t be strange if she asked after the sea captain. ‘Does Ardonyx know your plans for tonight?’
‘Not yet,’ Tobazim admitted. ‘We came to your ship first. As soon as Kyredeon knows we’re aboard the brotherhood ship, he’ll order his hand-of-force to execute us. The warriors he sent on the mission with us had orders to ensure we did not return.’
‘I suspected as much.’
‘They had orders to kill Iraayel, too,’ Graelen said. ‘And they nearly succeeded.’
Imoshen bristled, her gift gathering force. She gestured to Graelen and Tobazim. ‘Kneel. The rest of you, stand back.’
She would rather gift-infuse Ardonyx and Tobazim, but this would have to do.
When it was done, Kiane escorted them off the ship and Imoshen turned to her choice-son. ‘So you have a brotherhood willing to take you, and all you had to do was rescue the Mieren queen?’
He laughed.
‘Iraayel?’ Saffazi appeared at the passage door, face alight with joy.
He opened his arms. She went to him and threw her arms around him, kissed him, then pulled back and thumped his chest hard. ‘You should have taken me with you. I hated the waiting. It was unbearable!’
He grinned, too happy to argue.
‘Kiane will be back in a moment,’ Imoshen said. ‘Come inside.’
When they slipped into the bathing chamber and bolted the door, she did not protest.
TOBAZIM GAMBLED THAT the brotherhood’s hand-of-force had placed Haromyr and the others on watch again. And this was confirmed when Eryx peered over the side in answer to his soft call.
‘Tobazim, is that you?’
‘Quiet, lower the rope ladder.’
Valendia went first, followed by Graelen, then Tobazim. As he climbed aboard, he heard Imoshen’s oarsman row away.
Haromyr, Athly
n and Eryx grabbed him, hugging him one after the other. They whispered excitedly, their gifts barely contained and, as they responded to the residue of Imoshen’s gift, their power rose along with their voices.
‘Quiet,’ Tobazim warned. Graelen and Valendia stood to one side, for the moment ignored. His gift surged and he saw how they had to be incorporated into his power structure if the challenge was to succeed.
‘You’re drenched in female power again,’ Haromyr whispered. ‘What happened?’
‘We saved the life of the causare’s choice-son.’ Tobazim reached out to Graelen, caught the adept’s forearm and raised it between them. ‘We have formed an alliance.’ And to be sure they knew he meant it, he let his gift defences down just enough to form a shallow link with Graelen, who recognised what he was doing and responded in kind.
‘Harm Grae and you harm me.’ Tobazim said. ‘All of us live or die tonight based on the strength of our trust in each other.’
‘You’re going to challenge Kyredeon?’ Haromyr said. ‘I knew it!’
Tobazim nodded. ‘Now go back to your posts and wait for my signal. Where’s Ardonyx?’
Haromyr glanced up to the high rear-deck.
Relief flooded Tobazim.
The fog was so thick the lights in the rear cabins were just a hazy glow. Tobazim ran across the mid-deck and up the steps to the lower rear-deck, where he parted from Graelen and Valendia with a nod.
Heart racing, he ran up the steps to the high rear-deck.
As Ardonyx turned to face him, Tobazim was shocked to see that he had been beaten. Furious, he crossed the deck, took Ardonyx’s shoulders in his hands and drew him closer to the light. The captain’s features were a mask of bruising and swelling. ‘What did they do to you?’
‘They said you weren’t coming back and tried to break my spirit. But’ – tears blazed in Ardonyx’s eyes – ‘you proved them wrong.’
Tobazim hugged him. ‘When Oriemn’s men tried to kill me, I thought I’d come back to find you dead.’
Ardonyx pulled away, inhaling sharply. ‘You’re radiating Imoshen’s power.’
‘She gift-infused us. Grae and I have formed an alliance –’
‘You and Graelen are shield-brothers?’ Ardonyx took a step back.
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