‘Ma’am, he doesn’t possess the splendid physique of yourself or Maud. But neither does the male world outside of Kell. Compared to many, Wargall is stoutly built and he should be able to pull his weight in our undertaking.’
The queen stared at Wargall. ‘There is some truth in that. Still, a male ... Boy, what is it you want?’
Wargall blushed, and he swallowed. ‘Ma’am, if you would permit me ... If the lioness would have me ... I want to go, please.’
The queen blinked. ‘You would? There will be many dangers awaiting you out there, and great discomfort. You realize that?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ the boy said, lifting his chin. ‘I still want to go. I am a Kell, you see.’
Queen Hilda sat up straight. ‘That you are. Well, if you claim your birthright, I neither can nor will stop you. It’s up to the lioness, then.’
Maud grinned. ‘His statement is enough for me, clanmother. That and the thought of Jurgis’ wrath should I refuse him. My love has taken it upon himself to teach our little brother what it means to be a man, outlander-style. I think that’s a good thing.’
The queen gave her a hard stare. ‘You think so, do you?’
Maud thought quickly. This was dangerous territory. The Turnaround had been traumatic for many of those who had effected it. To have the result of their sacrifices criticized was touchy. She took a deep breath and gave an affirmative nod. ‘We need a new balance, clanmother. Our women don’t have to be three times as strong as our men. Nor do we need our males to die out from lack of willpower. We don’t need new tampering, either. Perhaps, if we train our males to be men again, we’ll get the equality we wanted. Then our bodies will adjust over time to this new balance we need.’
For a while, Queen Hilda was silent. ‘These things the clanmothers discuss in the greatest secrecy, for it is a slippery path, daughter. It could be, it could possibly be you are right, though.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘The numbers of boys born have been going down and those few that are delivered seem to lack something. There are those among us who say males have become useless. That the changes we made in them have ruined them beyond repair, and we should do away with them altogether; breed our girls like the warlocks do. I don’t agree, but those voices grow stronger. If you could prove males have more uses than to give a moment’s relief, I’d be grateful.’
She turned and with one hand lifted Wargall’s chin up. ‘Boy ....’ Then she reconsidered and gripped his shoulder instead. ‘Boy no longer; you are a young man, for you have chosen the warrior’s path. I will ask a second choice of you. With Wemawee gone, you are the last of the true M’Arrangh. You can ask for adoption into another clan, you know. The M’Brannoe would be open to such a request.’
Wargall’s face was grave now. ‘You do me great honor, ma’am. Please be not angry when I refuse. The M’Arrangh once bore an honorable name. I always hoped that Wemawee and I would win back some of that honor. Now ... now it’s just me, ma’am. But I still have that hope.’
Queen Hilda stood motionless, staring at the boy with a slight frown. ‘You surprise me once more, young Wargall. I cannot be angry; yours is a worthy dream. Go, my son, and make the clans proud of you.’
Maud was fuming when they left the palace. No more males! Damn those hags! They must be old women, those advisors of the queen who want to do away with men. Old, dried-up women, who only remember the frustrations of their urgings, not the pleasures. She recalled what Basil had said to his father, over returning to Vanhaar and living again as they should. Her heart started to pound. Inside her, planes shifted, the world changed its course and for a moment Maud trembled. We must go home! Release both Kells and warlocks from the whims of silly high kings and an empty life. Yes, they must confront Kelwarg. Yes, they must have that old tome for Basil’s foot. Then they must make the Unwaari leave Vanhaar. They had the Faces of Aera, surely that should be a powerful handle? Easy, girl. Don’t let it run away with you. Think like a lioness. All unnoticed, they had crossed the square and were back at the gatherhouse door.
‘Wake up!’ Jurgis said, pulling her sleeve. ‘Something’s wrong.’
Now Maud heard the sounds of fighting coming from the building. She drew her sword and ran inside, straight into a pitched battle. Soldiers in foreign uniforms were fighting the leopardesses twelve to four and though the girls were hefty enough, they were trained to shoot from a distance, and close combat found them at a disadvantage.
Maud’s full-throated battle cry rallied them. They answered with a high, growling leopard’s yell and renewed energy.
A plumed enemy officer shouted a command and half of the soldiers turned to face the newcomers. The lioness gave a barking laugh and sprang at him. Her sword, twice as long as his, crashed through his defense and the man stumbled. A second blow forced him to his knees and desperately he tried to block a third.
‘For the Kell,’ Maud cried, while her next swipe broke both the man’s blade and his skull.
Panting, she turned to another soldier. Three quick punches with her left fist turned his face into a bloody mess, and a vicious kick in the groin sent him reeling back to lose his life in a leopardess’ arms. His sword skittered over the marble floor and from the corner of her eye Maud saw Wargall dive for it. His face changed as he gripped the hilt and smiling ecstatically, he rammed the sword under the breastplate of the nearest of two soldiers fighting another leopardess.
The flat of a blade hit Maud’s shoulder, and she cursed with the pain. For a moment, the throne room went red before her eyes and she forgot all but those pesky little beings. Kill! her mind yelled, and blood covered the floor of the throne room as she brained the attacker with her sword pommel. Instinctively, she dodged a short burst of blackness Basil threw at a soldier. The enemy warrior withered where he stood, sinking down in a smoking heap. Then Wargall spurted past her, waving his sword, his face contorted. ‘M’Arrangh!’ he screamed. ‘M’Arrangh for the Kell!’ He struck at a soldier and the man cried out, clutching his shoulder. Quickly, Maud finished the man off and Wargall ran, looking for another.
‘More coming through!’ Jurgis shouted, pointing at the portal.
A large shape shimmered and consolidated in the space under the floor. No soldier, this, but a giant Kell, dressed in an embroidered loincloth, his massive body covered in tribal markings. Instead of fighting, he lifted his arms and turned on the portal itself. Under his incantations, the wooden frame smoked and blackened.
‘He’s destroying the portal,’ Jurgis yelled from across the room. With an explosion of light, the frame burst into splinters. Then the Kell ran up the ladder and turned his attention to the fighting. He was big, easily as tall as Maud, but possessed by a cruel aggression the lioness lacked.
‘For the M’Arrangh!’ Wargall shouted, as he ran toward the big man.
The Kell turned, and lifted his hands at the boy. ‘You’re no M’Arrangh, stunted worm!’ Death formed between his fingers, a poisonous snake with many heads, writhing and hissing in anger. Wargall froze, sword half lifted, as he stared at the mass of snakes. Then, a shiver ran through him and he sprang, ramming the sword into the man’s painted abdomen and up towards the heart. The shaman arched backward, his hands slackened, and the snakes disappeared. With his mouth open in a stilled scream, the big Kell crashed down at the foot of Kelwarg’s bed.
The boy pulled his sword from the body and turned to the others, his eyes unseeing. ‘Is he ... Did I ...?’
‘As dead as yesterday’s dinner,’ Jurgis said, hurrying across. He gripped Wargall’s shoulders and shook him. ‘Well done, man!’
Near the door, a bleeding archeress plunged her long knife into the last enemy throat and twisted it viciously around. Then, as the man slumped down, she raised her blade and four snarling leopardesses aired their triumph.
‘So young Wemawee’s use of the portal got a reaction,’ the queen said, looking around at the dead bodies in the M’Arrangh throne room. ‘What matter of folk are these?’
‘They must b
e Unwaari, ma’am,’ Maud said. ‘They wear the same uniforms as the soldiers we fought at Fort Jamril.’
‘That means Spellstor is still in their hands.’ Queen Hilda stepped into the blackened and spoiled bedroom, and stared down at the remains of the big Kell, lying spread-eagled across the bed.
‘A shaman.’ Her voice was harsh. ‘We don’t want his kind anymore.’ The queen sighed and all of a sudden she seemed old. ‘The enemy reacted fast.’
Maud thought of Hala, how worn out she’d been, and remembered Queen Hilda was of the same age. ‘That the portal still worked must’ve been a shock to them, ma’am. To send a suicide mission to close it down would mean they are afraid of an invasion.’
‘You haven’t seen any signs of that portal thing being used before?’ the queen’s advisor asked, the same senior tigress Maud had met earlier.
‘None. The portal lay hidden under the boards; no one could’ve used it without leaving signs. Wemawee mentioned that her ancestor had hidden everything well.’
The tigress snarled. ‘The damned traitoress. I’ll never trust any M’Arrangh again. All should be killed.’
Maud saw Wargall stiffen and edge toward the door. ‘Stand straight; she doesn’t mean you,’ she said.
The tigress’ eyes were hard. ‘That boy! He was that traitorous initiate’s lover?’
‘Her victim,’ Maud said. ‘She used him as you’d use a tool and he was too loyal to say no.’
‘He is a M’Arrangh. He must be killed like the others.’
‘No,’ Maud said, and she crossed her arms.
‘Give him to me, girl,’ the tigress said as she stepped forward. ‘That’s an order.’
‘With all respect to your distinguished service, Tigress, I’m a lioness and you cannot order me. I serve the queen.’
‘As I do. You’re impudent, girl!’
‘I’m within my rights, Tigress,’ Maud said.
‘You, child! You forget yourself ...’
‘Enough.’ The queen turned away from the dead shaman. ‘Lioness Maud is right. She has the freedom of her rank and she answers to me alone. The boy is under her protection.’
‘Does she have a M’Arrangh lover, then?’ The tigress spat. ‘A fine lioness, Hilda.’
‘She does not!’ Jurgis confronted the angry tigress without fear. ‘She has me, and that’s plenty. Wargall is under our protection, as ma’am queen said. And all other suggestions offend me.’
The tigress’ mouth fell open. ‘Offend you?’ She looked at the queen and back at Jurgis, and her lips quivered. Then she burst out laughing, slapping her massive thighs in sudden glee. ‘Look at him, the cockerel. I could squash you with one hand, little one.’ Then she became formal again. ‘No. You foreign men are funny, but I shouldn’t make game of you. All right then. The M’Arrangh boy is under your protection, Lioness. You mind what I said. His blood is bad.’
‘Wargall killed your precious shaman,’ Jurgis said. ‘Is that bad?’
The tigress turned her head to stare at Wargall. ‘He did? At least he doesn’t lack courage. M’Arrangh boy! The queen gave you a chance to prove yourself. Use it, if you want to live.’
‘We are finished here.’ The queen turned to go. ‘This destruction ruins your going to Unwaar quickly, clandaughter,’ she said over her shoulder.
Maud started to shrug, but she didn’t want to look boorish to the queen, and lifted her hands instead. ‘We’ll fall back on the original plan and go by ship, clanmother. That way we at least can choose our own landing place.’ She glanced at her companions, who were busy searching the rooms. ‘With your leave I would like to return to Towne immediately, ma’am. From there we’ll sail to the continent.’
Queen Hilda gripped Maud’s writs. ‘Go in safety, daughter. My thoughts will be with you. In the meantime, I will contact Wallanck and Argyr of Winsproke about the defense of our lands.’
Maud stood straight. ‘We’ll hit them where it hurts, ma’am.’
The queen nodded and left with the tigress and her guards.
‘You’re a fool,’ Maud said, whirling around and gripping Jurgis’ shoulders. ‘Dammit! That tigress has killed more opponents than any other Kell alive. She could break your neck with just her middle finger.’
‘That’s why she wouldn’t,’ Jurgis said, unmoved. ‘It would be dishonorable.’
‘Idiot!’ Maud nearly shouted as she shook him. ‘You’re not a Kell, nor a battle comrade. What dishonor should she feel? Dammit, had she attacked you I would have defended you. I ... I’m not sure I would have won.’
‘I would have stopped her,’ Basil said. ‘Jurgis did what he had to do to protect both his and your honor.’
Maud relaxed, shaking her head. ‘You’re all mad.’ She looked at Wargall, ‘You too. The way you used that blade, little brother. You killing that shaman was a brave thing, but if you’re planning to keep that sword, I’ll have to teach you how to use it properly.’ A cough made her look up. ‘Apologies, Leopardess. You girls conducted yourselves well; you’re to be commended and I’ll say so in my report. Return to your barracks, and let the healer see to your scratches. You have my thanks.’
The leader of the four saluted and as straight as they’d come in, the four marched out again.
‘Scratches?’ Jurgis said. ‘Some of those wounds look pretty nasty to me.’
‘They are nasty,’ Maud said. ‘But no Kell would admit to that. Scratches is a compliment to their fortitude.’
‘And you call me mad?’ Jurgis smiled. ‘Interesting place, this Tar Kell. I can’t imagine why you think it dull.’
‘It is. This entire ruckus was for you, as a favor. Let’s go back to the ship, before they start wondering if we’re in trouble or anything like that.’
‘Imagine,’ Jurgis said.
Once they were outside, Basil put his hands to the door. He closed his eyes and Jurgis saw a pattern of magic crawling over the wood. A single, giant seal portraying thousands of tiny butterflies sprang into being. It shimmered with a light of its own, looking much more intricate than the earlier ones. Basil patted the seal with a vague grin.
‘That’s it. Perhaps we’ll want to study the remains of the portal. This way, nobody can disturb the place without a great deal of trouble.’
‘Show-off,’ Jurgis said, and both laughed.
CHAPTER 23 - BROOMS
Back on board, Maud found the Magonaut in a state of defense. All her guns were run out, and the crew walked around armed to the teeth, ready to repel boarders. Forrard, Dalja’s archeresses sat on deck looking lost without their weapons, under the guard of fierce-looking Jentakans.
Yarwan nearly ran down the quarterdeck ladder, relieved to see them. ‘You’re back! Gods, I was worried. When that archeress returned and told me she’d orders to stay on board, I thought they were still detaining us. I wasn’t sure what to do. Bloodletting was out, but I wasn’t about to have my ship taken from me. So I quietly armed the lower-deck watch and arrested those archer girls. They took it well, I must say.’
Maud wrestled with her composure. It was clear Dalja had been unprepared for Yarwan’s determination. Well, that was another lesson for her. ‘Poor girls! They’re joining ship. The queen loaned them to us as a defense against wyrms and such beasties.’
‘Oh!’ Yarwan looked shocked at this. ‘I’ll have them released at once.’ He turned to Basil and kissed him soundly. ‘There. Now I’m fortified enough to brave those archeresses.’
Basil studied him. ‘The spell is not complete—here.’ He grabbed another kiss. ‘Now go, my captain.’
After dinner, Maud gathered her companions, Yarwan, First Mate Elhir and Dalja in the Magonaut’s spacious cabin.
‘Is that boy still free?’ Dalja whispered, with a quick look at Wargall. ‘Or is he yours?’
‘No to both,’ Maud said. ‘He is a warrior like you and makes his own choices. Tell your girls not to harass him. Should one of you want to test his aptitude with a bow, however, I would appreciate t
hat.’
‘A bow? But he’s a male.’
‘A male warrior. It takes some rethinking, males with weapons, but he’s killed several enemies already. I’ll teach him the sword myself, but the bow was never my strongest point.’
Dalja looked dubiously at the boy sitting with Jurgis. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Maud,’ Jurgis called. ‘We’re all here.’
‘Impatient, my little love?’ Maud said, as she and the leopardess walked to the two remaining chairs. ‘Wargall, I arranged archery lessons for you. Dalja and her girls will instruct you.’
The boy grew red. ‘But I ...’
Jurgis poked him. ‘You can do it. Perhaps, if the leading leopardess wouldn’t mind, I’ll join you.’
Dalja sighed, and nodded.
Maud smiled at Jurgis and then turned her attention to the meeting. ‘Friends, we have come as far as we can in Malgarth. Basil and I are agreed, tomorrow morning we’ll sail for Towne, and after that, the continent.’
Dalja gasped. ‘We hadn’t counted on that.’
Maud gave her a hard stare. ‘Then start counting now, Leading Leopardess. I’ll tell you and Wargall why.’
As she spoke of Fort Jamril, the four masks, the Black Warlock and the Tome of Old Ways, Maud watched their faces. Dalja kept her emotions hidden behind her professional mask, and Wargall sat dreaming of glory and great deeds. After she’d finished with today’s happenings, Maud paused for a moment.
‘We’re not going to search for the wisewoman,’ Maud said. ‘Should we find her prisoner, we’ll free her. Should we find her collaborating with the enemy, we’ll kill her.’
Wargall’s dreams evaporated as he looked aghast at the lioness.
‘What else should we do if she proves a traitoress?’ Maud said softly, answering his look. ‘Suggestions?’
The boy shook his head.
Maud’s eyes were watchful. ‘Glory comes at a price, and so does betrayal. Do you understand this?’
Wargall looked at his clenched fists and then squarely at Maud. ‘Yes, Lioness.’
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