And just like that, he had to approach the causare’s ship or admit that Ardonyx had failed.
‘We’re changing course now,’ he said, and caught Ardonyx’s eye.
His shield-brother returned to the high rear-deck to speak to the helmsman.
‘Excellent.’ Hueryx grinned. ‘I wonder if I can lure the healer into my arms. They say she can control a man’s body to prolong pleasure.’
Tobazim blinked, his mind a jumble of images.
Hueryx laughed and headed back to his end of the ship.
From this day forward, Tobazim would never look on the healer the same way. Not sure if he had been played, he joined Ardonyx to watch the celebrations. The pipers had struck up a lively tune and the dancing had already begun.
‘You can’t lay yourself open to the causare’s power so soon after fighting off gift-addiction,’ Ardonyx said softly.
‘I have to approach her. If I don’t, it weakens our leadership.’
‘I know.’ Ardonyx said the words as if they left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Tobazim gripped the rail as his eager gift tried to break free. He wanted nothing more than to open himself to the causare’s power. He wanted it so desperately, he knew it would be a mistake.
‘Fiant take Hueryx,’ Ardonyx muttered. ‘Kyredeon’s adepts will be watching us. You’ll have to approach her.’
Tobazim nodded. He did not trust his voice. Did not trust himself. Then it came to him. ‘The gift-benediction.’
‘What about it?’
‘I didn’t have the skill to carry out the gift-benediction, you guided me that night. Tonight you aren’t injured. Tonight you can join me and help shield me.’
‘You want me to share a trysting with you and the causare, and shield you from her power?’ Ardonyx’s voice sounded strained.
‘Can you do it?’
Ardonyx swallowed.
‘Can you? Because I can’t go to her alone. I want her too much.’
Ardonyx hesitated.
Tobazim laughed. ‘Come, when are two shield-brothers, so new to leadership, going to get a chance like this to tryst with the most powerful female of our generation?’
Still Ardonyx hesitated.
‘What possible reason could you have for not wanting this?’
‘None, none at all.’
And their ship edged closer to hers.
RONNYN LEANED AGAINST the ship’s rail. Down below on the mid-deck, the empowered lads danced to wild piping. On the upper decks, the T’En women had shared the spiced wine ceremony and the older ones had gone to bed, but now the young ones seemed restless.
‘So beautiful…’ Sardeon stared up at the masts.
The blue light played across his upturned face, making Ronnyn, who had grown used to his beauty, aware of it all over again.
‘Nerazime couldn’t have saved Vittor,’ Sardeon whispered. ‘Sometimes, things are beyond our control.’ He turned to Ronnyn. ‘I couldn’t have saved Lyxie.’
‘Just like I couldn’t have saved Da.’
They sat watching the blue flame in silence.
‘I had no idea that Gift-tutor Sarodyti was a gift-warrior,’ Ronnyn said.
‘Most gift-warriors become gift-tutors, if they live long enough. They know the most about the higher plane.’
‘Why would anyone want to be a gift-warrior?’
‘Stature. Gift-warriors are respected. They take an oath to accept true death.’
Ronnyn swallowed. ‘Stature doesn’t mean that much to me. Nothing could convince me to be a gift-warrior.’
‘It’s not a matter of choice. The empowerer identifies your gift.’ Sardeon gave a dry smile. ‘If your gift-tutor tells you that you don’t have the right kind of gift and mental discipline, you’re supposed to be disappointed but I’d be relieved.’
Ronnyn grinned. Sometimes Sardeon reminded him of Aravelle. She was just as sharp.
He search the fleet for All-father Hueryx’s Victorious and was surprised to find the brotherhood ship right beside theirs and growing ever closer, bringing with it lively, joyous music.
‘They’re dancing on the mid-deck.’ Ronnyn pointed.
‘Celebrating our survival,’ Sardeon said.
Ronnyn frowned. ‘I see Malaunje amongst the dancers. I thought you said we had to keep our distance?’
‘It’s different with the brotherhoods. Their Malaunje have a more intimate relationship with the T’En.’
They both gasped as one of the brotherhood warriors swung across from the Victorious, dropping lightly onto the mid-deck. The empowered lads spun around in surprise, then circled him warily. Two more brotherhood warriors followed, one landing on the foredeck only a body length from Ronnyn.
Their arrival caused a ripple of surprised comment from the young sisterhood warriors.
‘What’re you doing here, Toreon?’ Nerazime asked.
Her voice struck Ronnyn as odd. For some reason, it made his heart race and tension sing through his body.
Toreon said something soft and his teasing tone made Nerazime give a low, throaty laugh.
Several more brothers swung over. Down on the mid-deck, the empowered lads retreated, and a shiver of excitement travelled through the sisterhood warriors.
‘Come down and join us?’ one of the brotherhood warriors cajoled. ‘Come down and dance.’
The pipers produced a wild tune. Toreon held out his hand and Nerazime took it, leading him down to the mid-deck. The rest of the T’En women followed, their voices breathless and excited.
Ronnyn glanced across to the deck of the Victorious, thinking his sisters were somewhere on that ship. If only he knew where.
As if in answer to his need, Aravelle came out of the foredeck cabins. She carried a pan and tipped the contents over the side, before weaving through the remaining dancers as she headed back to the cabins.
His heart lifted and he ran down the steps to the mid-deck, searching for a rope.
‘What’re you doing?’ Sardeon darted after him, watching in dismay as he tested the rope. ‘You can’t do this.’
‘Why not? They’ve come to visit our ship.’
‘It’s different.’ Sardeon rolled his eyes. ‘If you’re caught, you’ll get in so much trouble.’
‘I’m not asking you to come with me.’ With that he climbed onto the rail and swung across, landing lightly on the mid-deck. No one noticed. Both decks were filled with dancers, the music growing ever faster.
A soft thump made Ronnyn turn.
Sardeon rose from a crouch. ‘I don’t know why I let you do this.’
Ronnyn laughed. ‘Because you can’t stop me.’
And he darted through the dancers, aiming for the door to the foredeck cabins. When he looked down the passage, only the door at the far end was ajar. Lamplight glowed through the gap. He headed for it.
Sardeon followed on his heels.
ARAVELLE SHOOK THE bed-mat, to be sure there were no more glass shards in it, and refolded it.
‘Vella!’
It couldn’t be. She froze with a pillow in both hands and then spun around. It was. ‘Ronnyn!’
He gave that cheeky, forehead-crinkling grin he’d inherited from All-father Hueryx. ‘Miss me?’
She ran and threw her arms around him. He lifted her right off her feet, swung her around, and planted a kiss on her cheek. How could she ever have doubted him? She hadn’t realised how much she missed his gift until she felt it again.
Ronnyn put her down and she pulled back to look at him. The Mieren had broken his nose, but it was fixed now. ‘Show me your arm.’
The twisted muscles had been smoothed out. It was not perfect, but it was not as mangled as it had been. Recalling how he’d suffered without complaint, she was glad. A sudden surge of emotion made her throat feel tight.
She looked up at him. ‘I swear you’ve grown.’
‘Are they treating you well?’ he asked. ‘My choice-mother said you’d be fostered with the all-father’s-voice.�
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Someone moved behind him and she noticed a beautiful T’En girl. A stab of jealousy surprised her. ‘Who’s that?’
‘Him?’ Ronnyn laughed. ‘That’s just Sar, my choice-brother.’
The youth inclined his head ever so slightly. ‘Sardeon Choice-son Reoden, son of All-father Paragian.’
Ronnyn did not give her time to respond. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he urged her to turn a full circle so that he could admire her. ‘Don’t you look fine all dressed up? But why did you cut your beautiful hair? You should have seen it, Sar. It hung like dark red silk to her knees.’
‘Malaunje aren’t allowed to grow their hair past their waist. Ma should never have –’
‘What?’
The beautiful youth rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed? No Malaunje has a plait past their waist.’
Ronnyn shrugged this aside. ‘Well, I liked it. I thought it was pretty.’
Aravelle shrugged this aside. ‘How are Vittor and Tam? How’s baby Ashmyr? Oh, I wish I could see him.’
‘You will. I’ll find a way to bring them all to see you.’
‘Ronnyn…’ Sardeon muttered, radiating disapproval. ‘If you acknowledge your Malaunje kin, it must be done in private, with care for their autonomy.’
‘Tell you what, Sar.’ Ronnyn crinkled his forehead in annoyance. ‘Why don’t you go stand in the hall and keep watch? Warn me if someone comes.’
Aravelle hid a smile.
‘Very well.’ Sardeon sent Aravelle a warning look, as if to say, you know better, we must protect him from himself. And the strange thing was, she agreed.
Aravelle waited until Sardeon had stepped into the hall. ‘He’s not happy with you. Is it hard, living with the sisterhood?’
‘No, not at all. Healer Reoden is so kind that at first I felt disloyal for liking her. Where’s Itania? Can I see her?’
‘Not without everyone knowing you’ve come aboard. She’s down below in the cabin with the all-father’s-voice.’
‘I’m glad you’re her choice-daughters. Is she as nice as Healer Reoden?’
‘I don’t think anyone’s as nice as the healer.’ What else could she say? She didn’t want to tell him about Charsoria. As there was nothing he could do to help it would only upset him.
Maybe she was a bad person, but it pleased Aravelle to know that she still meant the world to Ronnyn. Even if she had to be careful of his gift.
‘Ronnyn?’ Sardeon darted through the door. ‘There’s a brotherhood warrior coming. We need to leave.’
‘Over here.’ Aravelle caught Ronnyn’s hand and ran to the door to the bathing chamber. ‘Hide in here. As soon as he enters this cabin, go out the other door and down the passage.’
She shoved them both in and closed the door, just as Voice-of-Reason Dragomyr entered.
He searched the cabin as he strode towards her. ‘I saw a beautiful young T’En woman come in here. What are you up to, Vella?’
She shook her head, remaining silent. No believable lie presented itself.
His gaze went to the only other door.
Instinctively, she spread her hands to prevent him passing her.
He slapped her so fast she didn’t see his hand move. Her feet left the ground and she landed on a pile of bedding with enough force to knock the wind out of her.
Her lip stung. She pressed her hand to her mouth and her fingers came away bright red with blood. ‘Wait.’
Too late, the voice-of-reason threw the door open.
Chapter Forty-Two
RONNYN LAUGHED AS he landed on the mid-deck of his ship, rolled and came to his feet. He felt his gift empower him; felt like he could do anything. Sardeon followed one beat behind him. They steadied each other and looked back.
A brotherhood warrior charged out of the foredeck cabins.
Sardeon tensed. ‘That’s him.’
Ronnyn dropped to the deck, taking Sardeon with him. The pair of them lay there, hearts slamming against their ribs. Underneath the laughter, he could feel Sardeon’s gift, responding to the danger.
After a moment, Ronnyn came to his knees, crawled to the side and peered onto the deck of the brotherhood ship. Sardeon joined him.
‘Is he still looking?’ Sardeon whispered.
‘No.’
They both collapsed, laughing. Ronnyn laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes. Through blurry vision, he saw a pair of elegant bare female feet on the boards in front of him. Wiping his eyes he looked up at Nerazime. The brotherhood warrior she’d been dancing with came over.
The voice-of-reason put her hands on her hips. ‘Just what have you two boys been doing?’
Ronnyn glanced to Sardeon and they both dissolved into laughter again.
Nerazime shook her head. ‘Go to your cabin.’
The brotherhood warrior curled an arm around Nerazime’s waist and lifted her off her feet, drawing her back into the dance, and she didn’t protest.
Sardeon sobered up. ‘We should do what she says.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s like midsummer feast.’ He saw Ronnyn did not understand. ‘A time for unsanctioned trystings.’
Ronnyn tilted his head, intrigued. ‘In what way does trysting differ from shagging?’
‘Shagging is what animals and the Mieren do. Trysting is something else entirely.’ He tugged Ronnyn to his feet. ‘Come on.’
As they neared the door to the foredeck cabins, Reoden stepped out. She studied the revellers, searching for someone.
Nerazime paused in full swing, and the laughter stilled on her face.
Reoden said nothing.
Nerazime completed the circle, slipping under Toreon’s arm and into his embrace.
‘Go inside, boys,’ Reoden ordered sharply, proving she had noticed them. ‘Now.’
‘I told you,’ Sardeon whispered.
They ducked past her and she herded them down the passage to the empowered lads’ cabin, even as the music and laughter called to Ronnyn, stirring his gift.
‘Wait.’ She placed a hand on the door they’d been about to open. ‘Is that your gift I can sense, Sardeon?’
‘It’s back. I can call it.’ He lifted his hand, offering her a taste.
‘That’s good, but…’ She turned her face away. ‘That’s not appropriate. Besides, this power felt different.’
‘Then it was Ronnyn. Show her.’
He took the healer’s arm and called her power.
She pulled back, outraged. ‘How dare you!’
He lifted his hands, frightened by the force of her reaction. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t –’
‘He didn’t mean anything,’ Sardeon insisted.
She grimaced and rubbed her arm as if something repulsive had touched her. But when she lifted her eyes to them, she was the choice-mother Ronnyn knew and loved.
‘I would never do anything to hurt you,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I know. It’s just…’ She reached out to reassure him, but stopped before touching him. And Ronnyn realised there would be no more hugs from adult T’En unless they were both prepared.
‘He’s a summoner. It’s why my gift came back,’ Sardeon said. ‘He’s really lucky. It’s a high-stature gift.’
‘So it is,’ she said. But she seemed sad for him. ‘Off you go.’
‘IMOSHEN?’ EGRAYNE CALLED. ‘You need to see this.’
‘A moment.’ She tucked the blanket around Umaleni, then came to her feet.
Imoshen joined her voice-of-reason at the door to the deck. Wild music reached them. ‘What’s the problem? We all risked our lives tonight and the warriors paid the highest price. They deserve to celebrate.’
Her voice-of-reason said nothing, leading her over to the rail where they could look down on the mid-deck. Imoshen blinked. A dozen or more brotherhood warriors danced with the women from both sisterhoods.
Imoshen’s mouth dropped open. It was like midsummer’s night; a night for licence and daring. The mus
ic and gift readiness stirred Imoshen.
Egrayne snorted. ‘What are you going to do about this?’
‘Nothing.’ Imoshen shrugged. ‘No point fighting battles I can’t win. With everything we’ve been through, this is a natural reaction. They need this, Egrayne.’
Her voice-of-reason turned on her heel and strode off, returning to the cabin.
TOBAZIM WATCHED THE causare from the shadows near the steps. Imoshen said something to her voice-of-reason, who went back inside.
After a moment, Imoshen left the rail, heading for the cabins. The lambent blue light of the heatless flames still clung to the masts and rigging. It made Imoshen’s pale skin and hair glow. A smile played about her generous lips.
His mouth went dry with need and he nudged Ardonyx. ‘You’re the wordsmith. Sweet-talk her before she goes inside.’
His shield-brother laughed and pushed him into the light. ‘Do your own sweet-talking.’
Quick as a cat, the causare turned to face him.
‘Causare, I…’ He could not go on, as raw, primitive need gripped him.
He saw understanding dawn. She’d read him. But with the way he felt, she didn’t need to be a raedan to know what he wanted, not when it was written in his face and his body.
‘Causare.’ He managed to give a gracious obeisance. His voice dropped. ‘Imoshen.’
Her lips parted as she drew in a quick breath. He wanted to kiss those lips. He’d never trysted with a T’En woman, and he wanted the most powerful woman, who could kill with a touch. He must be mad.
But he could not do this alone. One unshielded taste of her gift and he’d be craving her power again. Reaching behind him, he caught Ardonyx’s arm and drew him out of the shadows. ‘My voice-of-reason, your fleet commander…’ If he’d been a wordsmith, he would have reminded her how Ardonyx had taken on the role of defender of the fleet, but all he could do was wait for her signal.
Her gaze went to Ardonyx and he thought she winced.
She turned to leave.
Tobazim caught her bare arm, skin to skin.
With a practised flick, she slipped from his grasp but, during that brief contact, his gift had recognised hers and it raged through him, driving him to place his hand to each side of her against the wall to block her retreat. ‘You reject us? Why?’
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