Warrior of Golmeira

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Warrior of Golmeira Page 4

by Marianne Ratcliffe


  ‘You can’t leave me,’ she whispered. ‘I need you. I can’t do this alone.’

  Chapter Six

  It was past midnight when the Wind of Golmeira dropped anchor at Port Krysfera. A heavy squall swept across the bay. Kylen pulled up the collar of her coat to protect her face from the driving rain as she strode across the deck. A few paces in front of her a jula lamp swayed beneath Hylaz’s large fist, its feeble light barely penetrating the dark. The descent down the side of the ship into the gig was treacherous; the hull rose and sank in the swell and the wooden blocks that formed a ladder were slippery with rainwater. Mata, the captain, had advised she stay put until the storm was over, but Kylen did not listen, even when Polina added her pleas. The Aliterran prisoner had been weak from his imprisonment, and together with the girl and the old woman he had slowed them down, making them late for their rendezvous with the ship. By the time they reached the coast, the fishing fleet was already spreading out from Port Trestra and the Wind of Golmeira had been forced to divert south to avoid it. The high winds of the southern reaches had been against them and when they had finally reached the Spur, a particularly low neap tide meant they had to tack back and forth for two days until the water in the channel was deep enough to pass.

  She paused above the gig as it bucked in the choppy water like an untamed fellgryff. Kendra, one of the ship’s watchmasters, struggled to hold it steady against the side of the ship. As Kylen jumped, the boat lurched upwards, forcing her knees into her ribs, jolting air from her lungs. Hylaz grabbed her arm to steady her, but she shrugged him off and staggered towards the stern. She chafed with impatience as the crew of the gig battled through the choppy waves to reach the shoreline. She had spoken at length with the Aliterran on their journey home, and his tale was worrying, leaving her eager to consult with Zastra as soon as possible. The moment they touched the jetty, Kylen leapt across gap without waiting for Kendra to tie up but she was forced to wait for Hylaz to bring the lamp. No point risking slipping off the wet jetty in the darkness.

  ‘Hurry!’ she yelled impatiently, but the whistling wind carried her words away. When at last he joined her, she snatched the lamp from his hand and headed towards Zastra’s cabin, situated not far from the great hall. She was halfway up the beach when a cluster of lamps emerged from the gloom and spread out to surround them. One illuminated Borez’s face, his hair plastered against his forehead. He leant forward, his eyes slitted against the driving rain, and put his mouth close to her ear.

  ‘Come with me.’ He had to shout for her to hear him. She frowned, but followed him towards one of the large bunkhouses that had been built at the south end of the bay to accommodate the ever-increasing population of refugees. It was a relief to close the door against the storm and at last see and hear those around her. She shook the water from her coat. A fire was blazing and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the brightness. The bunkhouse was full. Borez had gathered all the leaders among her people. Soldiers, like the dark-haired Lorzan, who had served as a lieutenant under General Alboraz, and the diminutive Beregan, who had served in Kylen’s own rebel group. There were also village elders, those who had not been killed during the Golmeiran invasion. To her surprise she saw her brother, seated close to the fire.

  ‘Zax? What are you doing up so late? Shouldn’t you be resting?’

  Her brother’s pale cheeks took on a strange flush. He did not look at her. Borez stepped between them.

  ‘My lady, we have been watching for you for many nights.’

  Kylen reached out to push him aside, but Borez fended her off stiffly, and continued to stand between her and her brother. Kylen felt a jolt of alarm, followed quickly by anger.

  ‘What’s so urgent that you escort me here like a prisoner?’ she snapped.

  ‘We need to talk about the Golmeirans, and your friend Zastra in particular.’

  A knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach.

  ‘Has something happened? Is Zastra all right?’

  Borez spread his arms and turned towards the other Sendorans.

  ‘Now do you see what I mean?’ Heads bobbed in agreement and there were whispers and sideways glances. No one would look at her. Hylaz snorted softly out of both nostrils, a sound he made when preparing for battle.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ Kylen asked coldly.

  ‘It is our belief that you have let personal feelings interfere with your judgement. You no longer put the needs of Sendor first.’

  Beside her, Hylaz stiffened. They both knew a challenge when they heard it. Her first instinct was to face down Borez, but she forced herself to take a moment. This wasn’t just about Borez. The behaviour of the others was concerning. Sendorans didn’t usually act so shiftily. It suddenly hit her that she had taken the loyalty of her countryfolk for granted. Without it she had nothing. She measured her next words carefully.

  ‘I disagree. Everything I do is for our people.’

  ‘All I see is that a Golmeiran tells you what to do and you leap like a fish snatching at a baited hook.’

  ‘I joined the alliance to help our people. We are stronger together.’

  Borez pointed at her accusingly. ‘She even sounds like a Golmeiran. She parrots their lies and false promises like a trained puppy.’

  ‘Zastra is not like other Golmeirans. I trust her.’

  Even as she said the words, Kylen felt the mood shift further away from her.

  ‘She’s Thorlberd’s niece,’ said Lorzan, the soldier who had served with Alboraz. He even sounds like his general, Kylen thought.

  ‘And yet she has proven herself many times,’ Hylaz insisted. ‘Remember Murthen Island? How many of our people she helped to save? And it was Zastra who granted us sanctuary here.’

  Kylen was touched. Hylaz rarely spoke in public.

  ‘Murthen Island was a long time ago,’ said Beregan. ‘What has she done since, except disappear for months searching for her brother and sister? Her priorities are clear. I wish we were as certain of yours, Lady Kylen.’

  ‘Zastra stands in our way,’ insisted Borez. ‘We are by far the largest group. Sendor should be leading this alliance.’

  Murmurs of agreement spread round the room. Kylen cut them off.

  ‘I have pledged that we will work with the others. The word of a Sendoran should mean something.’

  ‘It was never the way of Sendor to bow to a Golmeiran,’ Borez said bitterly.

  ‘Allying with Zastra doesn’t make me her servant.’

  ‘Nobody is saying you’re her servant.’

  The way he smirked made Kylen want to punch him.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked.

  ‘Step aside. On my honour, no harm will come to you.’

  ‘Your honour?’ Kylen snorted. ‘I see no honour in this gathering.’

  ‘If I cannot persuade you, perhaps someone else can,’ Borez turned towards the fireplace. ‘My Lord Zadorax.’

  Kylen’s mouth went dry as her brother rose from his chair. He was taller than she remembered and his hair longer. She had been away so long, she wondered if she really knew him any more. Surely her own brother wouldn’t betray her?

  ‘You’re challenging me?’ she asked hoarsely. He shook his head.

  ‘Not me. I have no scars. Let Borez take this burden from you. He served our father well. Fought by his side.’

  ‘I have no doubt Borez can fight,’ Kylen said bitterly. ‘But he’ll get you all killed.’

  ‘Too many of our people live as Golmeiran prisoners.’ Zadorax’s voice was hoarse and his eyes were rimmed with red. ‘At the mercy of those black ravens.’

  Kylen’s heart cracked. It had been years since her brother’s mind had been ravaged by Rastran and his mindweavers. Recurring nightmares planted so deep even Dobery and Polina had been unable to remove them completely. And all my fault.

  ‘We must help them,’ Zax continued. ‘I don’t blame you for being fooled by Zastra. I thought she was our friend too, until Borez reminded me
about Golmeiran deceit. They killed our father. They can never be trusted.’

  ‘There is a way you can prove that you are loyal only to Sendor,’ said Borez. He took a vial from his pocket. ‘Poison from a calabash snake. Next time you are with Zastra, just slip this into her drink. It will be painless. Then we can take control.’

  ‘That wasn’t what we agreed,’ Zax protested. ‘You told me no one would get hurt.’

  Kylen took the vial from Borez. It rested in the palm of her hand, the glass warm against her hand. She clenched her fist around it and then flung it into the fire. The glass shattered against the back of the grate.

  ‘Poison? A coward’s weapon. Shame on you!’

  Some of those present flushed and lowered their eyes. Borez reached behind his back.

  ‘If you are ashamed of your people, you have no right to lead them.’

  Kylen had turned her back on him only for a moment, eager to plead her case with the others. There was a blur of movement and she felt a sharp pain in her side. She turned to see Hylaz fling Borez against the wall, so hard the stanchion cracked. The light left Borez’s eyes as he crumpled to the ground, a bloodied knife dropping from his hand. Kylen clutched her side. Her palm came back sticky with blood.

  ‘This is how we deal with traitors,’ Hylaz growled. One by one, the rest of the Sendorans filed out of the room, leaving Kylen alone with Hylaz and the dead body. The reality of the situation sunk in. She had lost the trust of her people. Worse than that, she had no idea how to get it back.

  Chapter Seven

  Mata and Polina brought the Aliterran ashore as soon the storm had died down. Zastra listened in silence as the man told his tale. As soon as he’d finished, she ordered Pitwyn to assemble the council immediately, which he did with his usual efficiency. By the time she arrived in the great hall, she was greeted by the aroma of steamed rice and smoked yellow perch. Somehow, Pitwyn had found time to arrange breakfast as well as notifying the council. Justyn dipped a fork into a steaming bowl of rice and Nerika stood off to the side talking to Yelina and Mata. Ithgol, as usual, took up station behind Zastra. Morvain arrived, buttoning up a rumpled jacket.

  ‘What’s the rush?’ he asked, frowning with annoyance. ‘I haven’t even had time to press my clothes.’

  ‘You all need to hear this,’ Zastra said. ‘Has anyone seen Kylen?’

  ‘She went off the ship just after midnight,’ said Mata. ‘Made me send the gig across in the middle of the squall. She might not care for her own neck, but I don’t appreciate her endangering my crew.’

  Zastra was surprised and hurt to discover that Kylen had been on Port Krysfera since the previous night without coming to see her, especially knowing the importance of the Aliterran’s communication.

  ‘Pitwyn, did you try the south end of the bay?’

  ‘Of course, Lady Zastra. We left word at every Sendoran bunkhouse. Really, it is most irregular – these Sendoran savages, I mean – apologies, I will learn to keep my tongue – I know Lady Zastra doesn’t like us to refer to our allies in such – but this kind of behaviour really is – Radogan, go and look again, this instant!’

  A young man with a shaven head scurried away.

  ‘Typical of the Sendorans to keep us waiting,’ Nerika remarked acidly. With one last hopeful look at the door, Zastra decided they could wait no longer.

  ‘Let’s get started. Urbek, please tell everyone what you have just told me.’

  The Aliterran gave a small bow and began his story. He spoke slowly and deliberately, which was fortunate, for he had a strong accent.

  ‘I thanking you. My name is Urbek. I am being second tharl of the vulyx clan. Vulyx clan are leaders of our people, and they are being led by First Tharl Rafadal. I am sent by him to be finding out what is Grand Marl Thorlberd planning.’

  ‘You’re an ambassador?’ asked Zastra.

  ‘More like a spy,’ said Morvain.

  ‘Just so, I thanking you. I am being a spy.’ Urbek nodded happily. ‘In the long ago, very few Golmeirans are coming to our lands. Healers only, to be harvesting our valuable plants. But for this last of years, more peoples are coming from Golmeira. Not healers, they are only buying or stealing our yellowsap, but not saying what it is for. Tharl Rafadal is wanting to know why.’

  ‘Yellowsap?’

  Urbek ran his finger across his yellow cheek and held it up. A paler streak remained from where the yellow transferred to his finger. Beneath it, his skin had a mottled appearance, half brown, half pink.

  ‘I have not so much now since I was being captured. They took everything I am having.’

  ‘Face paint?’ Nerika asked in astonishment. ‘What does Thorlberd want with face paint?’

  ‘I am being captured in Bractaria and questioned by Marl Rastran. He too is wanting to know what Thorlberd is planning,’ said Urbek. ‘He is hurting my head, stealing all my secrets, even my most private.’

  ‘Mindweavers tend to do that,’ Nerika said, with an arch look towards Morvain and Polina. Urbek’s eyes widened in horror.

  ‘You are being thought-stealers?’ He backed away. Zastra moved to reassure him.

  ‘Do not be afraid. You are safe here. It is true that Pol and Morvain are mindweavers, but they are not like Rastran. They will not invade your privacy without your permission.’

  Urbek continued, although eyeing Morvain and Polina with deep suspicion.

  ‘Rastran, yes, and there is another, coming later. He is like a stork – so skinny and tall. His nose like a beak.’ He made a pecking motion with his thumb and forefingers.

  ‘Strinverl,’ said Morvain, his mouth pursing as if he had just drunk a mouthful of vinegar.

  Urbek nodded furiously. ‘Yes! Strinverl, that is what Rastran is calling him. They are arguing but then Rastran is letting Strinverl steal my secrets also.’

  ‘Tell them what you overheard,’ Zastra prompted.

  ‘The giant stork – this Strinverl – is laughing. He is thanking me for showing him all our defences. He is saying we are more feeble even than the Far Islanders.’

  Yelina emitted a choking noise. The Aliterran bowed apologetically in her direction.

  ‘I am only repeating what I am hearing. Rastran too, is liking to boast. He is saying my people will be easier to control than the fool Jelgar. I am not knowing who this is being.’

  ‘Jelgar is chief guthan of my people. He is controlled by no one,’ Ithgol told him with a low growl.

  ‘There is being something else. Strinverl is telling Rastran our yellowsap will be giving Thorlberd the power to destroy Zastra’s rebellion utterly.’

  Chapter Eight

  There was a pause whilst the members of the council considered Urbek’s tidings. During the silence, the door opened and Hylaz stepped forward, examining each corner of the hall before deciding it was safe to enter. Behind him came Kylen and Beregan. Zastra rose to greet them, smiling with relief.

  ‘There you are! We were wondering where you had got to.’

  Kylen brushed past her brusquely, wincing as their shoulders touched.

  ‘I hope you didn’t start without us,’ she said coldly.

  ‘Where’s Borez?’ Zastra asked, stung by Kylen’s rudeness.

  ‘Beregan will be my deputy from now on.’

  ‘We haven’t agreed to that,’ Yelina said, but no one paid her any attention. Zastra tried to catch Kylen’s eye, but the Sendoran refused to look at her.

  ‘We’ve been catching up with Urbek’s news,’ she said, striving to compose herself. ‘This thing with the yellowsap—’

  Kylen broke across her.

  ‘Sounds like Thorlberd is making a new weapon. He’s planning something. Every migaradon has been mobilised.’

  Zastra felt a flash of irritation.

  ‘Really? When were you going to tell us this?’

  ‘I’m telling you now, aren’t I?’

  Zastra pressed her lips together, wondering what had got into Kylen. She’s acting like I’m her enemy,
not her friend.

  ‘I am being most grateful for you saving me.’ Urbek rushed up to Kylen and crushed her hand in his. Another time, Zastra would have been amused at Kylen’s embarrassed expression as she prised her hand from his grasp. Kylen had always been terrible at accepting gratitude. Some things, at least, had not changed.

  ‘Urbek has asked for our help,’ Zastra said. ‘All the evidence suggests Thorlberd is planning to attack Aliterra.’

  Yelina was quick to voice her concern. ‘We cannot possibly consider some fool’s errand to rescue a country with which we have no treaty, or indeed any diplomatic relations.’ Her fellow representatives from the Far Isles nodded vigorously.

  ‘Yelina makes a sensible point,’ said Morvain. ‘As far as the mindweavers are concerned, this changes nothing. The trainees are still too young and inexperienced.’

  ‘I was twelve when I fought my first battle,’ Kylen snapped.

  ‘Which explains a great deal,’ Morvain responded smoothly.

  ‘Nerika, Justyn, what do you think?’ Zastra asked. Nerika turned to Justyn, who scratched his beard.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of Thorlberd getting his hands on a new weapon, but I don’t see what we can do. We couldn’t stop him invading Aliterra. His army is far too strong.’

  ‘Hylaz, what about you?’

  ‘Me?’ Hylaz seemed surprised to be asked. ‘I do as Lady Kylen commands.’

  Zastra cast around the room for further suggestions, but everyone seemed to be waiting for her to speak. She wished Dobery were here, but he was still too ill to move from his cabin. Trust yourself, Zastra. She gathered herself.

  ‘Urbek has come here asking for our help,’ she began, ‘and I believe that we should answer his call.’

  Yelina began to protest.

  ‘Please, Yelina, hear me out. We all know how badly Thorlberd treats the citizens of those countries he invades. And if he is developing a new weapon, it is vital we stop him. Many of us remember the horrors of sintegrack.’ Here Nerika muttered something under her breath, but Zastra continued over her. ‘If those arguments don’t sway you, then consider this. We do not have enough people on Uden’s Teeth to challenge Thorlberd. But if the Aliterrans were to join us, we would have him surrounded.’

 

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