‘Do you think we could pretend I was just a mountain girl again?’ she pleaded.
‘I’m afraid not. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that he’s found someone more important than me. You know, there were many times I wanted to tell him I wasn’t actually a Lord, just to shut him up, but Nerika wouldn’t let me.’
Zastra forced herself to maintain a polite smile as Pitwyn continued to make her the focus of his attention. His only saving grace was that he answered most of his questions himself, so she didn’t often have to think of a response.
‘What clothes do they wear at Golmer Castle these days? Oh, but of course you won’t… What I mean is, what did they wear? Grand Marl Leodra was a fine figure of a man I believe? Such a… Well, yes indeed, and a large shoe I heard, which is always a good sign, don’t you agree? My father always liked a good solid boot. Although a delicate, fine slipper was also a delight to him, the dear old thing.’
Pitwyn began to list all the shoes his father had ever made until Zastra began to wonder if the man had supplied shoes to everyone in Golmeira. She nodded politely and offered up an occasional murmur where some response seemed to be required, while trying to enjoy the food. That, at least, was delicious.
When they had eaten their fill, the first sitting went outside, where hot chala was being served from a large cauldron. The next round of hungry people pushed their way to the tables. The cool night air was pleasant after the heat of the hall. A group of Sendorans were sitting on the ground in a circle, eating out of bowls. A solitary figure paced around the group. Zastra recognised Kylen. With a sigh, she decided to see if she could make peace. She had not spoken to Kylen since she had refused to support an attack on Murthen Island. Kylen was carrying a half-eaten bowl of stew.
‘Enjoying the food?’ Zastra began, hoping that topic at least would be non-controversial.
Kylen rounded on her.
‘It’s hard to enjoy food knowing my people are prisoners on Murthen Island. You Golmeirans have no problem feasting and laughing, while others suffer.’
‘You can’t blame them for being glad to be alive, given what we’ve been through.’
‘What is the use of living, if all we do is sit around? Your Lord Justyn refuses my pleas for a ship.’
‘He is right to do so. You and your people are in no state to launch an attack. Have you considered what you are asking of them? How would you even get past the migaradon?’
‘We’d think of something, when the time came.’
‘That doesn’t sound like a great plan to me.’
Kylen flung her bowl away and Zastra was forced to skip aside to avoid being hit in the shins.
‘Word has it that you’ve been hiding out in some cosy mountain village, while your uncle has been enslaving my people.’
Zastra was stung by the words, as well as the contempt with which they were spoken.
‘I wouldn’t call our life cosy. I hadn’t much choice. I had Fin to protect.’
‘And I have Zax. Yet you’d rather be fawned over by that nitwit Pitwyn that do something about it.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘Life isn’t fair, particularly for a Sendoran. Or hadn’t you noticed?’
Kylen stormed off into the darkness, leaving Zastra feeling foolish and angry. She understood Kylen’s pain, but the Sendoran was being unreasonable. Couldn’t she see they needed a plan? That she owed her people more than sending them blindly into battle, especially with a migaradon to face. Zastra went to get in line for a cup of chala. Nerika was standing with Justyn.
‘Your Sendoran friend didn’t seem happy to see you,’ she remarked.
‘We were friends once. Now I’m not so sure.’
‘I hope you persuaded her to drop this mad idea of attacking Murthen Island?’
‘You saw how they were treating their prisoners. Those poor children too. Can we really stand by and do nothing?’ Zastra nodded her thanks as she was passed a cup of steaming chala.
‘Any attack would be risky,’ said Justyn. ‘We barely escaped this time.’
‘It would be impossible,’ snapped Nerika. ‘I asked Polina to interrogate one of the Golmeiran captains. The island is crawling with soldiers and mindweavers. And that’s before we consider the small matter of the indestructible migaradon.’
‘There is one among us who has defeated a migaradon, even though she was a child.’ Dobery appeared from nowhere, puffing on a pipe of tobacco. All heads swivelled towards Zastra.
‘That was blind luck,’ she protested.
‘Obviously,’ snorted Nerika.
Zastra’s scar itched uncomfortably as she told them about the cintara-addicted Brutila, a powerful mindweaver who had attacked her from the back of a migaradon. Something Brutila had seen in Zastra’s mind had caused the mindweaver to lose control of the beast and crash it into the side of a mountain.
‘So I didn’t really defeat the migaradon,’ Zastra finished with a sigh. ‘I don’t see how it helps us.’
‘Perhaps it does,’ Justyn said thoughtfully. ‘It tells us that the rider is more vulnerable than the beast.’
‘Hmm, maybe you’re right. The Murthen Island migaradon was unstoppable, but when I hit the rider in the foot it seemed to hurt them both. Dobery, couldn’t you use mindweaving to take out the rider?’
Dobery shook his head.
‘We’ve tried, but when the rider’s awareness is merged with the beast it is impossible to penetrate the combined mind.’
‘Then I don’t see what we can do,’ concluded Justyn. ‘Without a way to defeat the migaradon, we haven’t a chance.’
Chapter Thirty-nine
The second sitting spilled out of the hall and headed for the cauldron of chala. Jerenik and Ithgol came out with them. They both belched loudly.
‘Nice,’ remarked Zastra. ‘Surely you’ve not been eating all this time?’
Jerenik rubbed his stomach
‘I’m going back in a bit. There’s seven different types of pudding and I’ve only tried three.’
‘I hope you’ve left something for everyone else.’
‘Hey, it wasn’t just me. Ithgol here ate a whole giant bootstrap bird, or whatever it’s called. It was supposed to be shared among six.’
Ithgol’s attempt at a grunt sounded suspiciously like another burp.
‘Besides, I’m sure Pitwyn has it covered. Very efficient fellow, Pitwyn. Big fan of yours, though. He was looking for you. Something about Lady Anara’s wardrobe.’
Zastra groaned. ‘That’s it. I’m returning to the ship. If I have to listen to any more of Pitwyn’s fashion-based interrogation, I shall go mad. In any case, we should relieve Mata and the rest of her watch so that they can come and have some food.’
‘What about my puddings?’ protested Jerenik.
‘You’ve had quite enough. I order you back to the ship.’
Jerenik saluted her with exaggerated smartness. ‘Aye, Captain.’
‘Remember, now that I am your captain I can make you clean out the head if you get too cocky.’
That wiped the smirk from Jerenik’s face.
The yacht touched against the side of the Wind of Golmeira. Zastra left Ithgol and Jerenik to haul it aboard while she headed for the lower underdeck. Yashni greeted her with a tired smile.
‘Hey, Layna. Oh, sorry… Zastra. I still can’t quite believe that you’re a Grand Marl’s daughter.’
‘Don’t you start. I’ve had enough from Pitwyn. How are the patients?’
‘The Sendorans are recovering well. They are a strong people. They’d rather split their stitches than lay in bed a moment longer than they have to. Most have gone to the feast. Only those that were really poorly are still here. The littluns are suffering, poor dears. I’ve given them some of the cintara, like Sinisa suggested, but they always beg for more. It’s so distressing.’
‘Is there anything more we can do?’
‘I’ve found that a sleeping draught made from lyrabalm helps calm t
hem, but my supplies of that are running low. We could do with getting hold of some more.’
‘And Orika?’
‘She suffers more than most. She has refused the cintara. You can feel the timbers shivering even now.’
Zastra placed a hand on the hull. The timbers were vibrating in an unnatural way. Yashni nodded her head towards the far corner of the room.
‘She’ll be glad to see you.’
Orika lay, moaning and sweating. Zastra laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.
‘Orika. It’s me, Zastra. I’ve brought you some food from the feast. Much nicer than porridge and halsa paste.’
‘N-not hungry.’ Orika’s teeth were chattering.
‘Try some of this. I think it’s called red-slipper fruit. It’s nice. Not too sweet.’
Orika eased herself up, pulling her blanket tight around her shoulders. She took a large piece of the red fruit and sucked noisily.
‘Good?’
‘Good.’ Orika licked her lips. Zastra sat down beside her.
‘How are the dreams? I see the ship is still in one piece, for which we are all grateful.’
‘S-sorry. I don’t mean it. Please, I don’t want to leave. Don’t make me leave.’
Orika stiffened in a sudden panic and the ship began to vibrate more noticeably. The wooden bowl with its contents of red-slipper fruit jumped into the air. Zastra grabbed it with both hands. It needed all her strength to stop it flying away.
‘Don’t worry. I’m the captain, remember. I won’t make you leave.’
The creaking of the timbers subsided.
‘My head hurts.’ Orika grimaced and Zastra looked around for Yashni. Maybe she could give Orika some of the lyrabalm. Orika gripped hold of Zastra’s wrist, still shivering.
‘Please don’t go. I’m cold.’
Zastra pulled the girl towards her and draped the blanket round them both. Orika stopped trembling and fell asleep against her chest. While the girl slept, Zastra couldn’t take her eyes off the bowl of fruit. It had given her the beginnings of an idea.
Chapter Forty
The next morning, Zastra eased herself away from the sleeping Orika and took the yacht single-handed in a circle around the bay. It felt good to handle the little craft, sensitive to every nuance of the wind and she lost herself in the pleasure of sailing. Her enjoyment was interrupted by a cry of excitement and she realised she had drifted close to Port Krysfera.
‘Oh, Zastra. Oh, daughter of Leodra. There you are!’ Pitwyn was scuttling down to the jetty to meet her. She tried to pretend she hadn’t seen him, but he cooed even louder and she was forced to return his wave. He was carrying a large bundle under one arm.
‘I’ve had three pairs of shoes made in your honour from the last of my Far Island cloth. I do hope… Won’t you try them?’
The last thing Zastra wanted was to spend the day trying on shoes, but she could see no way to avoid Pitwyn’s unwanted attentions.
As she slowly brought the boat up against the dock, a fair-haired figure dashed past Pitwyn and came to a standstill, hand on hips, staring at her. It was Kylen.
‘About time you turned up. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten our appointment.’
‘Our what?’ Zastra was confused. She did not remember arranging any kind of meeting with Kylen. The last she recalled, Kylen had been throwing bowls of food at her. Kylen made a tiny jerk of her head towards Pitwyn, who had stopped halfway down the jetty to catch his breath. Zastra eyes widened in understanding.
‘Of course, our appointment. So sorry I’m late.’
She skipped out of the yacht. With a couple of quick turns of a rope, she secured it to the jetty.
‘Sorry, Pitwyn,’ she said, as she and Kylen strode past the forlorn figure. ‘It will have to wait. I’ve a previous engagement.’
Kylen led them round the bay until they were well out of Pitwyn’s earshot.
‘He’s been waiting for you all morning. Look, the poor fellow doesn’t know what to do with himself.’ The curly-haired figure had placed his bundle down, but hadn’t moved from the middle of the jetty. He gazed after them forlornly.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘I guess not,’ Zastra admitted. ‘Thanks for the rescue.’
Kylen shrugged.
‘I owed you one.’ She strode on purposefully until they had left Port Krysfera far behind. Zastra struggled to keep up with her until the Sendoran suddenly pulled up short.
‘Look. I’m sorry I was so rude last night. I know you are no coward. It’s just I’m so worried about Zax.’
Kylen’s lip wobbled, and suddenly her shoulders heaved and tears ran down her face. Zastra pulled her into a hug, shocked by the Sendoran’s sudden vulnerability.
‘It’s all my fault,’ Kylen sobbed into Zastra’s neck. ‘I wanted him to be a good Sendoran soldier. I should have kept him safe.’
Feeling rather awkward, Zastra patted her on the back.
‘You take too much blame. No one could have predicted what happened.’
Zastra let Kylen cry herself out. At last the Sendoran regained her composure, and pulled away, looking a little self-conscious. Zastra cleared her throat.
‘I do understand. The others will too. I promise you, we will do everything we can to get Zax back.’
Kylen chewed her lower lip.
‘You said you had been looking after Fin. I’m glad to hear he survived. What about Kastara?’
Zastra hesitated. She couldn’t trust anyone with the truth that Kastara was alive. The fewer people who knew, the safer her sister would be.
‘Dead,’ she said shortly. She had practised the lie in her mind but this was the first time she had spoken the words. A strange shiver ran down her spine.
‘I’m sorry. Truly. When did you last see Fin?’
‘It seems like forever. More than two years. He’s probably forgotten all about me.’
‘He may be young, but he will not forget his big sister.’
They clambered over seaweed encrusted rocks until they reached a small beach. A large piece of driftwood had been swept up by the waves. Zastra picked it up and turned it over in her hands.
‘I had an idea last night which I think you might like.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s pretty crazy and has very little chance of success.’
Zastra began to outline her plan.
‘You’re right,’ said Kylen, when she had finished. ‘I do like it.’
‘I thought you were going to agree it was crazy.’
‘That too. Come on, let’s see what the others say.’
The idea was quite simple in theory. They would take a wooden hatch, sturdy enough to carry Zastra’s weight and have Orika use her mindmoving talent to make it fly. Zastra would then be able to attack the migaradon at its own height and get a clear shot at the rider. Justyn advised against it, saying it was too dangerous. Dobery, although concerned about the risk, thought it was worth trying and Nerika remarked that if Zastra wanted to kill herself, it was fine by her. Kylen was impatient to begin at once, but Zastra insisted they allow Orika a few more days to recover before she broached the subject. When she did so, Orika put her hands to her head.
‘A migaradon?’ she wailed. ‘N-No. I couldn’t. I can’t do it.’
It was not a good start.
‘You don’t have to fight it yourself,’ explained Zastra. ‘You just need to get me close.’
‘Too dangerous. Too dangerous for you, Zastra,’ Orika began tugging anxiously at her hair, which had only just begun to grow back. The ship’s timbers began to quiver. Zastra clutched the girl’s hands until she calmed down and the ship ceased its trembling.
‘Orika, I know I ask a lot of you. But we must defeat the migaradon and I would be in greater danger if I have to face it without your help. Let’s at least try, shall we?’
Eventually, Orika was persuaded to give the plan a try. They began with the wooden bowl, which
Orika moved up and down in the air with increasing confidence. When she had mastered that, they tried it with a spare hatch cover. Launching the wooden square into the air proved easy but keeping it flat was much more difficult. The hatch kept tipping over and spinning uncontrollably on its axis. When it had clattered onto the deck of the Wind of Golmeira for the hundredth time, Kylen loomed up behind Zastra.
‘This is useless. I’m going to take one of the ships, with or without Justyn’s permission. If we attack Murthen Island under cover of darkness we may have a chance.’
‘The darkness wouldn’t protect you. They would know you were coming. The place is full of mindweavers, remember. We need to give my plan a chance to work.’
Even as she spoke, the wobbling hatch sliced through the air towards their heads, sending them diving for cover.
‘I didn’t survive this long to be decapitated by a lump of wood,’ Kylen muttered. She called for a canoe to take her ashore. Her place by Zastra’s side was taken by Dobery.
‘Are you sure about this, my dear?’
‘Not you too? Everyone is criticising, but I notice no one else has thought of a better plan. Or any other plan, in fact.’
‘I mean, should you be the one to take on the migaradon? If anything happened to you, the Sendorans and Justyn’s group will soon fall out. You are the only one that Kylen trusts. This is a risky undertaking. Perhaps you should get someone else to do it. Yerdan seems like a fine fellow with a crossbow.’
‘It was my idea,’ Zastra insisted. ‘I need to do this myself. Yerdan’s not bad, but I’m a better shot. You see how Nerika and the others look at me. Even Kylen has doubts. This is my chance to convince everyone I’m not just the spoilt daughter of a Grand Marl.’
‘How will getting yourself killed achieve that?’
‘Your confidence is truly inspiring,’ Zastra said dryly.
‘You don’t have to prove anything to me. I suppose I’m an old man and I like to worry. Just promise me you’ll be careful.’
Zastra picked up the hatch and placed it flat on the deck. She stepped onto it and nodded towards Orika.
Murthen Island: Book Two: Tales of Golmeira Page 20
