As Zurenne held out a graciously inviting hand, Ilysh copied her gesture.
‘Good day, Lady Zurenne, Lady Ilysh.’ Jilseth made no move to urge her horse forward. ‘May I make known to you Kheda of the Southern Reaches.’
‘Good day to you.’ Zurenne wasn’t sure she’d heard the name correctly through the rustle of feathers and indignant cooing from the cloth-swathed box which the rider was cherishing on his saddle bow.
That posed another question. Why would the magewoman bring courier doves when her wizardry could carry her words across hundreds of leagues in an instant?
The rider put back his hood. Awkwardly, with one hand clutching his reins as well as steadying the dove cage, he unwound his scarf.
Lysha gasped and took a step backwards. Kusint swore in the Forest tongue and moved in front of both women, his hand going to his sword hilt.
Zurenne heard Reven yell an urgent summons. ‘Halferan! Guards to the gate! All of you curs!’
The newcomer’s skin was the rich chestnut of his horse’s flank. An Archipelagan or a man of mixed blood? His eyes were leaf green and his close-clipped hair and beard were dark and wiry brown rather than the inky black of the Aldabreshin corsairs who had ravaged Halferan.
‘Mama?’ Ilysh breathed, pressing close to her mother’s side for reassurance.
‘Good day.’ Zurenne heard her voice rise perilously high and swallowed hard. ‘You are from Relshaz?’
She managed to speak loudly enough to be heard by the troopers rallying behind her.
‘No, my lady.’ The man raised his voice to be clearly heard within the manor’s gates, calm and sonorous and speaking in precise and courtly Tormalin. ‘I was born in the Daish domain of the southernmost Archipelago. I bring you greetings and good wishes from the wives of Khusro Rina.’
Zurenne couldn’t think what to say, distracted by ominous murmuring from Reven and the troopers behind her, by Ilysh’s trembling presence at her side, by Kusint’s ferocious scowl as he looked to her for guidance.
‘Velindre of Hadrumal vouches for Kheda of the Southern Reaches and I am here to guarantee both his good conduct and his personal safety.’
Jilseth’s pointed words silenced the muttering guardsmen. Zurenne breathed a little more easily. Hopefully no man with the wits that Saedrin gave a blackbeetle would risk wizardly ire by attacking this unforeseen visitor, who was after all, unarmed. She could see no sword or dagger at the tall man’s belt as he shrugged his shoulders free of his flowing cape.
She hastily gathered her wits. ‘Kusint, please see that our visitors’ horses are stabled and tended. Ask Mistress Rauffe to prepare two guest chambers.’
For one heart-stopping moment, she feared that Kusint would defy her, still standing squarely in the entrance. After a long moment, the Forest-born captain stepped backwards. He still made sure that he stood in front of Halferan’s ladies as the stranger rode past with Jilseth.
‘Sergeant Reven!’ Zurenne clapped her hands to demand the gaping youth’s attention. ‘Send word to the kitchens. Ask Mistress Doratine to send a tisane tray and food for our guests to the muniment room’s audience chamber.’
Reven took to his heels like a startled hare. Trimon only knew what rumours would go racing around the manor, Zurenne reflected, once Reven had told Doratine who had just ridden though Halferan’s gates.
‘Lady Ilysh.’ She slipped her arm through the crook of her daughter’s elbow.
Lysha lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, her father’s determination reflected in her eyes.
Kusint walked on her other side, hand still on his sword hilt, watching as Jilseth and the newcomer dismounted and their horses were led away towards the stables.
‘Mama—’ Ilysh murmured as Linset and Weltray escorted the visitors towards the baronial tower.
‘I know.’ Zurenne walked more quickly. They reached the steps first, hurrying inside to the audience chamber. ‘Raselle, take Neeny upstairs.’
‘Why was the lady wizard on a horse?’ Esnina jumped down from the window seat, her embroidery abandoned.
‘I don’t know, Neeny. Raselle, as quick as you can, if you please,’ Zurenne urged from the doorway.
‘Of course, my lady.’ Flustered, the maid gathered up pin cushion and scissors, folding fine white fabric into her work basket.
‘Neeny, hurry up!’ Lysha wrapped her sister’s needle case and silks in the creased and grubby runner.
‘I’ll do it!’ Indignant, Esnina snatched at the embroidery, spilling the multi-coloured silks everywhere.
‘Girls!’ Zurenne’s exasperation silenced whatever retort had been on tip of Ilysh’s tongue.
After one look at her mother’s face, Esnina dropped to her knees and swept up the fallen silks. Ilysh crouched low to help before ushering the little girl past their mother and into the hallway after Raselle.
Too late. Zurenne saw the maid halt with a stifled squeak of surprise. Esnina yelped and fled for her mother’s skirts.
‘It’s all right, Neeny, truly it is.’ Zurenne gathered her younger daughter close.
Neeny’s nightmares of bloody havoc and incomprehensible death surrounding her had been painfully slow to fade. Zurenne had begun to despair of the child sleeping the night through without waking in floods of tears and urine-soaked bedding.
The newcomer, Kheda, instantly dropped down into a low crouch. Now his green gaze was on a level with Esnina’s white-rimmed eyes.
‘Good day to you, my lady. May I ask, what is your name?’
‘This is Esnina.’ Zurenne tightened her comforting grasp on Neeny’s trembling shoulders. At least astonishment at hearing the man’s courtly Tormalin had kept the child from outright hysteria. ‘And this is Kheda—’ she hesitated over his appellation, as meaningless to Neeny as it was to her. ‘He’s Madam Jilseth’s friend.’
She saw Neeny look at the magewoman. Jilseth answered her with a reassuring smile. Zurenne felt her little daughter’s shudders ease to wary stillness.
The tall man removed the cloth from the wooden-slatted cage he carried. ‘Perhaps you can answer my question, my lady. Are the birds in your dove loft as white as mine?’
Esnina was surprised into a whisper, looking upwards to Zurenne. ‘They look just the same, Mama.’
‘Raselle, take Neeny upstairs.’ Zurenne stooped to kiss the top of her child’s head. ‘I’ll send to the kitchen to see what Doratine has been baking, sweetling. Now, be a good girl.’
Raselle stepped forward to take the child’s hand and led her away towards the staircase. Kheda watched them go, waiting until the pair were well past the turn of the stair before standing up again.
Zurenne realised that he was even taller than Kusint. The Forest youth was still standing by the tower’s entrance, glowering at the Aldabreshin man’s back.
‘Please, come in.’ She gestured towards the audience chamber door.
The Archipelagan smiled as he shed his cloak. He wore a plain black doublet and breeches, his clothes and boots as creased and grimy as Corrain’s had been on his return from Duryea. Zurenne wondered how long he had been travelling.
He draped the heavy cloth over one arm. ‘Your small daughter, she is six or seven summers old?’
‘Six.’ Reminiscence softening the man’s eyes piqued Zurenne’s curiosity. ‘Do you have children?’
He nodded. ‘I do.’
Zurenne waited for him to say something further but nothing was forthcoming. She turned hastily and led the way through the anteroom into the audience chamber.
Ilysh was standing behind the long table, hands folded at her waist. ‘Please take a seat.’
Zurenne wondered if anyone else heard the infinitesimal tremor in Lysha’s words. She offered what reassurance she could in her smile as she joined her daughter.
‘Thank you, Lady Ilysh, for your welcome to Halferan.’ Jilseth pulled out chairs for herself and the Aldabreshi.
‘You are always welcome, Madam Mage.’ Ilysh sat down and
glanced at her mother, her eyes beseeching her help.
‘You said that you had news for us?’ Taking the chair beside Lysha, Zurenne saw Kusint standing stony faced by the door. His eyes were still fixed on the Archipelagan and his hand rested on his sword despite the visitor’s lack of weapons. ‘From Col?’
‘Not as yet,’ Jilseth apologised. ‘I can scry for Baron Corrain if you wish, though I am sure one of my fellow mages in the city would have alerted us if anything had befallen his ship.’
‘Then what are you doing here?’ Ilysh managed to ask with reasonable courtesy.
Jilseth looked at the Archipelagan Kheda. As he explained, his resonant voice was as sombre as his expression.
‘As I believe you know, Aldabreshin traders in Relshaz have gone from refusing to do business with mainland merchants who have any dealings with wizards to stirring up the city’s riff-raff to attack the wizards themselves. There are those in the Archipelago who would go further still. Some propose ending trade with the mainland, to remove any possible risk of magical attack, for whatever reason.’
‘Planir is most concerned by the hostility to wizards now spreading on the mainland beyond Relshaz,’ Jilseth interjected. ‘He knows this will only worsen if Hadrumal is blamed for the wholesale ruination of trade with the Archipelago.’
‘What has this to do with us?’ Zurenne was as bemused as Ilysh.
Kheda leaned forward, resting muscular forearms on the table. ‘Khusro Rina is a stargazer, revered far and wide throughout the Archipelago’s northern and western reaches. He has seen ominous omens, warning of disaster ahead if a schism becomes established between the mainland and the Aldabreshi. His wives have resolved to do all they can to mend matters. They have decided that they must act before the spring seasons open the sea lanes to travel between the mainland and the Archipelago.’
‘The northernmost domains, Jagai and Khusro, are sustained by trade with the mainland,’ Jilseth added. ‘They also profit from their dealings with the rest of the Archipelago since every warlord’s galleys and triremes must use their sea lanes to reach Caladhrian waters before sailing onward to Relshaz or Col.’
‘The warlord’s wives?’ Ilysh asked, wide-eyed. ‘How many does he have?’
Kheda answered her. ‘Debis Khusro born Debis Ikadi, Katel Khusro born Katel Strei, Patri Khusro born Patri Miris and Quilar Khusro born Quilar Vuld.’
Zurenne looked helplessly at Jilseth.
‘A warlord’s wives manage a domain’s trade between them,’ the magewoman explained. ‘They have considerable power and influence, all the more so when the warlord is a recluse like Khusro Rina. These particular women are very well connected with influential domains across the western reaches and down into the heart of the Archipelago, through their own previous marriages and through their sisters and daughters.’
‘Oh,’ Zurenne said faintly.
She had only ever thought that Aldabreshin wives were little more than slaves, albeit dressed in silks and jewels, lounging in barbarian luxury until their husbands demanded carnal use of their bodies.
Of course, she reminded herself, over this past couple of years, she had learned that a great many things which she had believed were as false as a peddler’s lead pennies.
‘What do they want with us?’ Ilysh was still astonished.
‘Halferan suffered most grievously of all Caladhrians from the corsair raids,’ Kheda continued. ‘If the Khusro wives can establish ties of friendship with you noble ladies, that will prove that you do not hold every Archipelagan responsible for the raiders’ crimes. Just as their friendship with you will demonstrate their own confidence that such ties to the mainland will not bring down undeserved wizardly wrath on their own domain.’
‘Do they know—?’ Zurenne looked uncertainly at Jilseth.
Did this Aldabreshin envoy know of Halferan’s involvement in the destruction of the corsairs’ isle?
‘Everyone in the Archipelago believes that the Archmage alone ordered the corsairs’ destruction,’ Jilseth said promptly, ‘in retaliation for their threats to attack the mainland with the mage-crafted artefacts which they had looted from the mainland. The use of such artefacts is, of course, anathema to the Aldabreshi.’
Kheda’s sardonic smile told Zurenne that he knew far more of the truth of the matter. ‘The Khusro wives know that Halferan has ties to wizardry. They wish to reaffirm the long-held belief among the Aldabreshi that having dealings with those who have dealings with wizards does not see magic’s contamination passing from hand to hand like some spotted fever. That principle has always underpinned our trade with the mainland. Without it?’ He shook his head. ‘There can be no renewal of trade with Relshaz.’
‘Is no one standing up for the wizards in Relshaz? The ones who have been attacked?’ Ilysh demanded, abruptly indignant.
Zurenne wondered why those wizards hadn’t defended themselves as ably as Jilseth had defended Halferan.
The magewoman sighed as she answered Ilysh. ‘The Archmage knows how easily retaliation or revenge will merely beget more violence. He has advised the mageborn to leave the city, for the time being.’
‘But you have come here with Madam Jilseth,’ Zurenne interrupted, looking at the man Kheda, ‘and you say that you’re Madam Velindre’s friend. Why have you involved yourself with wizardry when your people abominate it so? Why are you not deemed contaminated with magic and anathema yourself?’
Kheda leaned back in his chair, glancing at Jilseth. At her nod, he looked back at Zurenne.
‘I was born Daish Kheda in the southernmost reaches of the Archipelago. I was my father’s chosen heir and ruled as warlord with absolute power of life and death over all those born within my domain. Ultimate responsibility for their safety and well-being was my burden. A handful of years ago, my own islands and our neighbouring domains were attacked with wizardry—’ He held up a hand to silence Ilysh’s exclamation in unconsciously fatherly fashion.
‘Not magic from Hadrumal, nor by any mage from the mainland. There are lands half a season’s sailing beyond the western seas where the most savage wizardry lurks, born of dragons and those who worship them.
‘We could not withstand their attacks,’ he told Zurenne grimly. ‘Islands burned and innocents died, men, women and children, in their tens and hundreds. I sought out magic to defeat them. There are times when one can only fight fire with fire. That’s how I met Velindre. My exile from my home was the price which I must pay to secure my wives and children’s safety along with the lives and livelihoods of those whom I had been raised to rule and to serve. I am more than willing to make that trade.’
Zurenne saw the light of truth in his green eyes. She still suspected this was far from the whole truth.
‘I have seen more vile and destructive magic than you can ever imagine,’ Kheda assured her, grim faced. ‘Viciousness loosed on those who have done nothing to deserve such attack. Believe me, my lady, no matter how grievously your own lands and people may have suffered at the hands of that Mandarkin wizard, I have seen far worse.’
He leaned forward once again, looking across the table at Zurenne with frightening intensity.
‘I will do all that I can to restore peaceful relations between the mainland and the Archipelago, in order that Hadrumal has no reason to turn the wrath that destroyed the corsairs on any other warlord’s domain. More than that, I wish to keep Hadrumal in my debt, in case those savage mages who worship dragons beyond the western seas ever return. Then I will call on those wizards whom I trust to save my people, even if my fellow Aldabreshi would kill me for doing so.’
‘But what has this to do with Halferan?’ Zurenne persisted.
Jilseth hesitated before replying. ‘You know of the ensorcelled artefacts which the Mandarkin mage Anskal uncovered among the corsairs’ loot.’
‘Of course.’ Zurenne tried to shrug off the frightening memory of the repellent wizard’s appearance in the manor’s very hall, threatening her and Ilysh both if they didn’t
hand over their bespelled pendants.
Kheda nodded grimly. ‘The Khusro wives are sorely distressed by the possibility that they may have such trinkets imbued with magic in their own strong rooms, unbeknownst to their lord. They seek to rid the Khusro domain of such perilous things as swiftly as they can, most especially under the current ominous stars. But they have no way of telling honest treasures from corrupt.’
Kusint broke his silence by the door with a muttered oath in the Forest tongue. Seeing Zurenne’s displeasure, he ducked his head in mute apology.
Zurenne narrowed her eyes at Jilseth. ‘What are you proposing?’
Now Hadrumal’s involvement made sense. The Archmage couldn’t possibly pass up an opportunity to get his hands on yet more of these magical treasures. Zurenne remembered what Corrain had told her of the assembled wizards’ avid interest in the Mandarkin’s discoveries, when he had been in Hadrumal watching the Archmage plan his attack on the corsairs.
‘Kheda has promised the Khusro wives that you are entirely trustworthy.’ Jilseth smiled confidingly. ‘Just as Velindre has promised Kheda that she has every confidence in your discretion.’
‘I’m honoured, I’m sure,’ Zurenne said with growing apprehension.
‘Kheda has assured the Khusro wives that you will deal honestly with them, if they bring their treasures here so that a mage such as myself can remove anything tainted by magic. No wizard can go to the Archipelago,’ Jilseth pointed out. ‘Magic and mageborn alike are forbidden there on pain of death.’
Besides, if this business is transacted here, Planir has every reason to believe that no one else will know of it, not mageborn or mainlander, Zurenne thought silently. This will be one more secret which I’m keeping to ensure that he keeps my beloved husband’s fatal folly hidden, as well as Corrain’s madness in bringing that Mandarkin mage to Halferan.
‘The Khusro wives would far rather deal with another woman who will neither seek to overrule them nor cheat them,’ Kheda added. ‘They know full well that the mainlanders have no true understanding of Aldabreshin custom and law. If this were any other domain, the warlord himself would doubtless deal with the mainland’s barons, man to man, in keeping with mainland practise.’ He shrugged. ‘But Khusro Rina is a recluse.’
Defiant Peaks (The Hadrumal Crisis) Page 18
