I ran a hasty hand through my hair. “I don’t know.” I quelled a sudden memory of the pot of salted cedar resin my father had given me in his workshop, together with some very straight talking, the day after I had laid my first whiskers on Misaen’s altar.
Laio moved closer and laid a hand on the bare skin of my arm. The hairs rose like a hound’s at her touch. “Come to that,” she purred, “what do you mainlanders do—”
A loud knock interrupted her and Sezarre stuck his head around the door. “The tree-planting will be done at moonrise,” he said to Laio before ducking out again.
The thread between us snapped. “I’ll want the blue gown with the feather-patterned wrap,” she instructed me briskly. “I’m going to wash my hair.”
Not sure whether I should be cursing Sezarre or blessing him, I obeyed and was pleasantly surprised to find I was also allowed plenty of time to wash and dress myself in a new green tunic and trousers that Grival brought by, a gift from Mahli apparently.
As the last half of the greater moon rose over the distant horizon, the black stone of the keep grim in the cold, bluish light, I followed Laio down the stairs and into the inner garden at the heart of the residence. I kept close to her, alert for instruction or reprimand as the air was thick with expectation and a sense of ritual, slaves from the household lining the walls, silent and respectful. Laio moved to stand next to Gar and I exchanged a fleeting glance with Sezarre. He tilted his head a finger’s width and I saw Kaeska on the far side of the garden, Irith standing behind her, swaying slightly, mouth slack, no spark of life in his eyes. The Elietimm stood next to her, hair startlingly white in the night, his jaw set as he stared at me, unmistakable hatred crackling across the distance that separated us. I touched Laio’s shoulder and leaned forward slightly.
“I know,” she murmured. “Wait.”
A stir ran through the waiting assembly as a far door opened and Shek Kul entered the garden, Grival beside him carrying a silver bowl draped with a silken cloth.
Laio tilted her head back a little to whisper to me. “That is the—” she struggled for the right words in formalin, “it comes with the baby, nourishes it in the womb.”
“Afterbirth.” I was very glad I was not Grival; my determination to be long gone from here before Laio found herself brought to child-bed instantly doubled.
Shek Kul was dressed in a plain green tunic and, working without ceremony, dug a deep hole in the rich earth in the middle of a stand of five trees of varying heights. Grival emptied his burden into it and then one of the gardeners brought a new sapling, which Shek Kul planted with a surprising air of competence, firming down the black soil with a large foot. The gardener bowed low and spoke to the Warlord, who shot a startled and unfriendly glance at Kaeska. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the ground and I saw Laio bridle as she observed this exchange.
Gar turned her head to catch my eye. “The growth of the tree will guide us as to the health and nature of the child. Its leaves will be used in divination.”
I nodded, hardly about to say I’d seldom heard anything so improbable.
Laio stirred again and as Shek Kul wiped his hands on a towel proffered by the steward, she took a pace forward. A discreet ripple of surprise ran through the assembly and Laio lifted her chin, by every measure a Warlord’s lady.
“My husband, just as you do your duty to protect our new son, the hope of the domain, I must act to counter a grave peril that nests in our midst like a venomous snake.”
Her clear voice echoed around the tall stone walls and Kaeska’s head snapped upwards, her eyes wide, whites stark in the pitiless moonlight as she stared at Laio in horror.
“I accuse Kaeska Danak of suborning sorcery, to further her plans to kill our son and to regain her status as First Wife with a child born of enchantments.”
There was no triumph in Laio’s voice, none of her earlier glee, simply an implacable ring of truth. The hiss of indrawn breath all around us was followed by murmurs of consternation from all directions.
Shek Kul raised a hand and the throng were silent as a grave. “These are capital charges that you bring.” He spoke directly to Laio as if no one else were present. “What is your proof?”
Laio gestured backward over one shoulder. “The word of my body slave.”
All eyes were instantly upon me and I stood, motionless, expressionless, as my mind raced, wondering what would happen next.
Shek Kul looked back at Kaeska and then studied me as the entire gathering held its collective breath.
“I will hear this case at sunset tomorrow,” he announced finally, tossing the towel to Grival and striding back inside the residence as the crowd erupted into a frenzy of speculation. I struggled to keep Kaeska in view as Laio led the way back to the stairwell. This was not at all what I had expected.
“What happens to Kaeska?” I looked around in vain for guards or Household slaves. “Where will she be held? Where is the Warlord’s dungeon?”
Laio halted on the stairs and turned to look down at me.
“Kaeska will not be detained in any way.” Her tone was puzzled. “The household guard will be on alert, that will be sufficient to dissuade her from anything foolish.”
“Why ever not?” I demanded. “What is Shek Kul thinking of? Now she knows we’re onto her, she has a night and a day to work whatever malice she wants!”
“Not with every eye on her, knowing she is accused,” commented Sezarre, rather to my surprise. “Anyway, Shek Kul is hearing the case as soon as possible, at the very start of the day following the accusation.”
Of course, one of the many peculiarities of Aldabreshin life is the way they measure each day from sunset to sunset.
“Even the lowest slave is entitled to know of what they are accused, to be given time to prepare a defense,” Laio said tartly, “in the Islands, at least.”
“It may be that she takes her chance to flee.” Gar was looking thoughtful. “That might be preferable.”
Not from where I was looking, it wasn’t. I cursed under my breath in exasperation as I followed Laio up the stairs. There was just too much I didn’t know about this unholy place, their bizarre customs and peculiar notions. I was going to have to rely on Laio’s guidance and I didn’t like that idea one little bit.
“What is the form of the trial?” I demanded. “Do you have an advocate to speak for you? Will Kaeska have someone to argue her innocence? What exactly do you want me to say?”
“Aldabreshin justice is swift and sure,” answered Laio crisply. “Shek Kul will call you to stand before him and tell your tale. Kaeska will respond and you can argue the details out where necessary. Shek Kul will listen for as long as he wishes and then give his judgment. We do not hide behind intercessors and contention, like the mainlanders. The truth is not some dead beast to be picked over by carrion birds and weasel words.”
I’d have to remember that line to use against Mistal one day. So this court was going to have all the validity of a barrack room assize, as far as I could see; my best hope had to be that the legendary blood-thirstiness of the Aldabreshi would carry the day against Kaeska, regardless.
“What about the fish and the birds? When are you going to tell Shek Kul about that?”
“I’m not and neither are you.” Laio opened the bedroom door with a vindictive shove. “Kaeska will only deny it and once we acknowledge the fact of the deaths there will always be the suspicion that it was a valid omen.”
And if no one mentions the lizard sitting in the middle of the dining table, presumably it doesn’t exist either.
“I don’t want you mentioning this attack you say they made on you either, not since there were no witnesses,” Laio continued. “They’ll only use that to muddy the waters by arguing some personal conflict between you and this foreigner, that your accusations are simply malicious.”
Laio forbade any further discussion with a wave of her hand and readied herself for bed with her usual routine, soon asleep and snoring with an insouciance that I cou
ld only envy. I lay on my pallet, naked sword ready to hand, unable to sleep as my ears seized on every slightest noise as the long night deepened, darkened and paled into day.
The Palace of Shek Kul,
the Aldabreshin Archipelago,
7th of For-Summer
I was standing on the balcony, watching as the sunlight spilled the golden promise of a new dawn across the dark green flanks of the mountain when I heard Laio stir behind me. Stifling a yawn, I turned to see her emerge from her silken cocoon of quilts, eyes unfocused, her soft face betraying her girlhood. As her gaze lit on me, her expression hardened.
“You look dreadful!” She tossed her coverlets aside. “Have you been awake all night?”
“I know what Kaeska’s been up to. I’ve dealt with these cursed Elietimm before,” I snapped, exhaustion hitting me like a slap in the face now I had to start thinking and talking again. “I wasn’t about to have her come in and slit our throats in the middle of the night!”
“Oh don’t be so ridiculous,” Laio said with no little contempt as she dragged on an old crimson tunic and ran a hand through her hair. If I hadn’t been so spent, I would probably have managed some cutting retort; as it was all I could do was scowl.
“I need you awake and alert to give your evidence against Kaeska this evening,” she continued, her voice taut with irritation. “Get in.” She pulled aside a quilt on the bed.
“What?” I blinked, too tired to bother with niceties.
“Get some sleep, you idiot.” There was precious little patience remaining in her tone and her foot was tapping ominously.
I moved to the bed, consoling myself with the realization that Sezarre and Grival would be awake by now and the residence guard would have been changed at dawn. They would be more than a match for Kaeska and her sorcerer in a straight fight. Now the plot had been exposed, for the Elietimm to use magic would be to condemn the pair of them out of hand. My sluggish thoughts had just reached this conclusion when the silken pillow touched my cheek with a seductive caress. I was lost and asleep even before Laio’s warmth and lingering scent in the bed could stir my tired senses.
I was borne upwards from the depths of sleep by a swelling tide of noise in the compound below Laio’s apartments. Opening my eyes, I was just trying to identify the individual elements in the mix when the door opened. I sat bolt upright, heart racing, only to see Laio standing looking at me, her expression a blend of concern and irritation.
“Are you going to be able to tell a coherent tale without falling asleep in the middle of it?” Her foot was tapping again and I realized belatedly how much of her own prestige Laio was investing in my word.
“Yes,” I said simply. “You were right, I did need to sleep.” If I had expected my admission would soften her mood, I was wrong.
“Of course I was,” snapped Laio. “Get up, get washed and fetch something to eat.”
I hurried to comply; having Laio standing in the middle of the floor, arms folded and eyes hooded with annoyance didn’t encourage any lingering in bed. Stifling a fleeting wish that I could have a decent shave for once, I headed down to the kitchens, pausing at the half-landing to open a shutter and check the time by the sun. It proved to be late afternoon, but I barely spared the sun a glance when I saw the activity in the gardens. I’d thought the place was crowded when the news of the baby’s birth has spread but that was nothing compared to the scene below me. It looked as if half the domain had somehow made its way here; I couldn’t believe all these people lived on this one island. A tremor of nervousness threatened to unsettle me and I slapped a passing insect with unnecessary venom.
“Get a grip on the reins, Rysh,” I muttered to myself. “The only one you need to convince is Shek Kul. Imagine he’s the Sieur in a difficult mood.”
The problem with that was not only did I know the Sieur and his disposition while Shek Kul was largely still an untold tale to me, but I could also rely on the protection of oaths that the Sieur had made when offering me his commission. I realized that I had no idea just what Shek Kul might do to me if he decided for some arcane reason that my words were a malicious fabrication. I made haste to fetch Laio’s meal and waited impatiently for her to eat her fill.
“What will happen if Kaeska is not judged guilty?” I asked abruptly, not bothering to ask permission as I began to eat, trying to see if some food would settle the qualms gathering in my gut.
Laio shook herself as she rose and began pacing along the balcony. “You don’t need to concern yourself with that,” she replied in a haughty tone that nevertheless rang a little hollow to my ears. “Tell the tale as you gave it to me and she will not be able to excuse herself.”
There was a distinct edge of nervousness in her voice, which struck answering echoes from the doubts starting to gather around my mind. I stared at the flatbread in my hand, appetite failing me.
“Will you hurry up!” Laio suddenly snapped. “I need to dress and make ready.”
As I shoved the tray aside, I forced the tumult of doubt and apprehension into the back of my mind and slammed a door on it. If I betrayed any nervousness, I could see Laio’s poise would desert her and then we would both be in trouble. I might have the evidence that would condemn Kaeska but Laio was the one who knew how this so-called system of justice worked, which arguments would be most likely to sway Shek Kul, how Kaeska’s mind would be working as she tried to evade her fate. I needed Laio calm and confident, all her wits sharp, honed to perfection as she cut through the intricacies of life in a Warlord’s household. Well, that at least was something I had some control over.
Accordingly, I dressed her in a flamboyant golden gown, the silk shot through with a vivid bankfisher blue, answering fire caught from an Emperor’s ransom in sapphires and diamonds around her neck, her wrists and her ankles. I drew her hair up with jewelled clips and pins, piling it high to give her an illusion of greater tallness, the style encouraging her to carry her head high, shoulders back. She sat still as a statue, expressionless, as I painted her face in the intricate mask of an Aldabreshin noblewoman, outlining her eyes and brows with black, a sweep of azure and gold carried out from her lashes to her hairline, cheekbones highlighted to dramatic effect and lips full with a rich red tint that promised untold delights. As her mouth yielded to the soft kiss of the brush, my hand halted and our eyes met.
“This is more than rivalry between wives or Shek Kul ridding himself of an inconvenience,” said Laio somberly. “The practice of magic is a foul offense and it must be punished. I would be doing this if it had been Mahli you had overheard, you must understand this.”
I understood that Laio meant every word, whatever I might think of the so-called crime. “You are doing your duty to Shek Kul and to the domain,” I replied with equal gravity. “I will do everything in my power to support you.”
Laio drew in a long breath and, after a moment, released it slowly. Moving to look out across the straits to the distant hills, oblivious to the milling crowds below, she stood in silence, preparing herself. I looked at her, wondered if I should try talking to her further, but decided against it and addressed myself to my own appearance. Taking a brush to burnish my hauberk, I scoured it to a silver brilliance before scrubbing the resulting grime from my hands. Once I was clean I dressed in the green and black silk arming jacket that proclaimed the domain when I was on show to visiting nobles. Settling the armor on my shoulders and hips, I was about to buckle on my belt when Laio stirred.
“There’s a coffer by the door,” she said, almost absently, her eyes still fixed on the far distant heights.
I looked around and found a small casket of reddish-brown wood bound with bronze. Opening it I found a broad belt rich with silver-mounted stones, jet and malachite, arrogant in their size and cut. Clasping similarly ornamented bracers around my forearms, I lifted out an Aldabreshin war helm, something I had not worn to this point. Shaped close to the skull, it had a veil of fine chainmail to protect the neck and shoulders and a sliding nasal b
ar. Chased silver bands around and across it were inlaid with curling enamel lines of Aldabreshin script and I put it on with an odd sense of foreboding, wondering just what I had written above my eyes.
“Now you are an Islander.” Laio nodded her approval.
I managed a faint smile. I certainly looked the part but I would have to convince everyone present that I was truly Laio’s man at this masquerade of a trial, loyal to her, Shek Kul and the domain in that order. How could I do that when I did not believe it myself? My oath had been given long before I had been brought here and I was the only one who could take it back and give it elsewhere. My loyalties to Laio or Shek Kul weren’t worth a Lescari cut-piece; I spent every spare moment racking my brains for a way to escape them. Was I forsworn by this pretense? Where was the virtue in standing on my honor if that would only get me killed?
What of my immediate situation? My quarrel was with the Elietimm, with him and his kind who had somehow encompassed my slavery here; I wasn’t doing this for Laio or the domain, I wanted some measure of vengeance for my own predicament, even if that hapless slut Kaeska was going to suffer Dastennin only knew what torments if I succeeded. I caught my breath on a sudden memory of the visions Viltred had shown me; these Elietimm were a threat to all that held my oath, weren’t they? That alone should validate my actions here, shouldn’t it?
Would I be any closer to escaping and returning to the duties I had chosen of my own free will? If I did, would Kaeska’s death be a price I was prepared to accept, a consequence I could defend to Saedrin when the time came? Too late for these questions; I was committed now. It was time to act and deal with the consequences as the runes fell, the moment any good soldier learns to recognize if he’s to live beyond his first season in the militia.
I moved to stand at Laio’s shoulder and stared out toward the hidden seas, wondering what Livak was doing at this moment, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun sank inexorably to the horizon. A rising note swelled above us from a deep-throated horn I had not heard give tongue before. In the gathering dusk I saw bright flowers of flame blossom along a line of beacons, answering points of light identifying islands far distant. Whatever happened here tonight clearly involved the entire domain.
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