Northern Storm ac-2

by Juliet E. McKenna

  ‘Always, my lord and husband.’ Itrac sounded apprehensive all the same. ‘When will you be back?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kheda said honestly. ‘As soon as possible, I’ll promise you that.’

  Itrac’s mouth trembled and she stepped forward to press herself against him, sliding her hands around his waist and burying her face in his neck. Kheda held her, helpless, feeling her warm tears on his skin. ‘We should go.’ Risala spoke softly behind him. ‘Before someone hears voices and comes to see what’s amiss,’ Dev’s voice agreed in the darkness beyond Itrac. ‘Good night.’ Itrac pulled away abruptly. She skirted past Dev and vanished without another word. Jevin followed, a black shadow passing across the fading white of her robe.

  Kheda stood looking after her.

  Can you do this, left all alone? Can you keep the household together and the domain beyond, proof against all the rumours and fear? You are bound to Chazen in a way I will never be. Let’s hope those bonds are strong enough. ‘We need to go, my lord,’ said Dev forcefully. Kheda nodded. ‘Then let’s.’

  ‘What’s it called?’ Risala’s face was unreadable in the strange shadows cast by the subdued light of the lamp she took from the vestibule to guide their way through the darkened residence. ‘The boat, I mean.’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet.’ Kheda led the way through the colonnade to the doorway into the wide anteroom between the warlord’s inner garden and the outer tower. A lamp glowed golden on the far side of the room. The sentries guarding the double doors out to the courtyard stiffened, their hands resting lightly on their sword hilts.

  ‘Open to your lord Chazen Kheda.’ Dev stepped forward to stand at his right hand, voice authoritative.

  Both youths bowed low, doing their best to conceal lively curiosity. One pulled at the heavy bar sealing the door against assault and his companion pushed it open with another bow.

  ‘Thank you.’ Kheda walked through without slowing his pace or turning his head. Risala followed, two paces behind Dev, Velindre lagging a little further behind. Kheda walked briskly through the outer colonnade. Unseen in the darkness, the roses filled the night with their perfume. He paused to breathe in their heady fragrance.

  They have flourished and bloomed after suffering such wanton damage, renewed, restored. Let that be an omen.

  ‘My lord.’ Dev’s voice broke into his thoughts with scant courtesy. ‘Put your armour on before’ we leave the residence.’ He was wearing his own chain mail and carrying Kheda’s, as well as being encumbered by a bulky bag slung over one shoulder. All their swords were thrust through his belt where they clashed awkwardly.

  ‘Of course.’ Kheda donned his armour quickly, aware of watching eyes high on the tall towers. The topmost turrets were dark, with no lamps to ruin the sentries’ night vision, but he could hear the rustle of feet and the faint clink of armour. Only the observatory tower was silent.

  Kheda pulled the studded belt tight to draw the weight of the hauberk on to his hips as it dragged at his shoulders. ‘Let’s go.’ He took his scabbarded swords from Dev and secured them in the tight grip of his double-looped sword belt as he strode towards the northern outer gate.

  ‘Open to your lord Chazen Kheda.’ Dev’s voice was calm and emotionless as he stepped past the warlord to confront the sentry.

  The man looked from the impassive body slave to Kheda, who kept his face equally expressionless. The sentry bowed low and withdrew the door’s heavy bar.

  Pulling open one half of the door, he stepped through it.

  ‘Bow to your lord Chazen Kheda,’ he commanded the guards springing to their feet in the arcade beyond. Kheda nodded briefly to the detachment of waniors as he walked down the steps and into the outer enclosure. The ground was cool and damp beneath his bare feet. Above, the sky was clearing. The light from the distant, just barely lopsided orb of the Lesser Moon turned the countless streams and pools to cold quicksilver. The outer wall was a black barrier before them.

  ‘Watch your step,’ Dev warned Velindre and Risala before stepping forward to repeat his challenge to the waiting sentries.

  Kheda gave them a curt nod as he went out towards the shore with his ill-assorted entourage.

  You dont know what to make of this, do you, faithful waniors of Chazen? Will you spend the rest of the night debating whether I’m disappearing again? Will you wait for all to be made clear when the dawn comes? Will you accept Itrac’s reassurances even if I’ve not won your trust as yet? Kheda kept his face as blank as marble as they passed through the final gate and walked out across the cold and wet grassy expanse between the residence and the shoreline defences. They were barely out of earshot of the waniors guarding the residence when he heard Velindre whisper to Dev in their barbarian tongue. He struggled to follow her words.

  ‘This place is going to be buzzing with speculation before we’re out of sight,’ the magewoman hissed. ‘Wasn’t there some less obvious exit?’

  ‘What would you suggest?’ Dev countered. ‘Shall we wait till morning and carry ourselves over the walls with magic? We could blend fire and air together and vanish in front of their astonished eyes. How much panic would that provoke around here?’

  ‘I’m hardly suggesting open wizardry,’ retorted Velindre scathingly. ‘Just a little more discretion.’

  ‘The warlord has to be seen to leave the residence.’ Risala spoke up in firm Aldabreshin. ‘If everyone wakes up tomorrow and finds he’s not there, it won’t be good enough to say he just slipped out of a side door while everyone was asleep. There’ll be servants who’d set rumours running that he was dead or incapacitated, out of sheer mischief or because their true allegiance is to Daish or Aedis or some other domain.’

  ‘Yes, they’ll all be whispering behind their hands and wondering what we’re up to but they won’t gainsay Itrac’s explanation,’ Kheda said neutrally. Not without good reason, not for a good while. The best way to avoid that will be sending good news back here as soon as possible, if you two can possibly contrive some.’

  They approached the arch piercing the mighty wall drawn across the beach. There was no gate here, merely the outermost portcullis prudently lowered. Kheda heard the growl of the winches and the rattle of chains pulling the lattice of wood and steel upwards almost before Dev had completed his challenge to the warrior commanding the wall guard.

  ‘This way.’ Once outside, Kheda felt uncomfortably exposed on the open shore.

  ‘There must be curious eyes all along that rampart,’ Velindre muttered behind him in the tongue of the Archipelago this time.

  ‘Let’s get the boat in the water and sail away before anyone else wakes up, shall we?’ invited Dev. ‘At least the rains mean there aren’t too many people sleeping on the beach,’ Risala observed.

  Out in the open water, the Green Turtle rode in silent sleep after dutifully delivering Risala and Velindre. The galleys and smaller boats at anchor were dark shapes on the silver sea, their crews below half-decks or lying beneath awnings of oiled hide drawn tight over open hulls. There were a few tents on the sand, solidly planted above the high-water mark with their ropes storm lashed. There were no lights or sounds bar one sleeper’s shockingly raucous snore.

  Risala stifled a giggle as they passed the snorer’s tent and Kheda shot her a grin in the faint moonlight. ‘Come on.’ Dev was intent on the modest boat floating on an extended tether at the furthest end of the beach. Velindre followed him, her pale head colourless in the moonlight.

  Kheda reached for Risala’s hand and she took it as they hurried after the wizards.

  ‘It’s smaller than the Amigal,’ Risala remarked as she joined Kheda and Dev to haul on the rope as they pulled the boat closer into shore.

  Not by much.’ Kheda leaned back, using all his weight. ‘And it handles better.’

  ‘The Amigal handled better than any boat you people will ever build.’ Dev scowled.

  The new boat grounded on the unseen seabed with a grating thump and rocked gently, water lapping a
t her sides.

  ‘How do we get aboard?’ Velindre looked on askance from the dry sand.

  ‘We wade.’ Kheda pointed to a rope ladder hanging over the boat’s square stern. ‘And we climb.’ Dev was already waist deep. Velindre followed, her leather bag held high as she waded through the water.

  ‘Come on.’ Kheda looked at Risala.

  ‘It has no name.’ She looked at him, frowning. ‘And I don’t imagine you’ve got an augury dove tucked in some pocket or other. This is hardly the best way to start this voyage.’

  ‘There are enough omens of ill luck that you can’t control without going out of your way to invite more,’ observed Velindre, pausing in the lapping waves.

  Kheda looked at her. She met his gaze calmly. ‘As I said, I’ve been doing a lot of reading on my way down here. How else do you think I learned your language?’

  Dev was already aboard and busy with the sail’s ropes. ‘We’ll be ready to move in a few moments,’ he warned testily.

  Kheda heard a brief flurry of liquid sound floating high in the air. He looked around with surprise. ‘A reteul and singing from the east. Is that enough of an omen for you?’

  A bird of good omen, as they share their song with past and future, the birds of the present singing the same melody as those that laid their parents in the egg, the same song that those as yet unhatched will know. An omen to remind me to trust in the past and hope in the future?

  Risala smiled with relief. ‘I would say so.’

  Kheda looked at her, the desire he’d kept in check through her absence seizing him anew. Then another realisation twisted painfully beneath his breastbone.

  The reteul’s a sign of constancy, each pair mating for life and all the birds of any one island sharing their song with each other alone. No other island’s birds will have the same song. What does that presage for your future with Risala?

  ‘What are you two waiting for?’ Dev leaned over the boat’s stern to help Velindre aboard. ‘A good omen,’ Risala retorted as she splashed through the water to the ladder.

  ‘And a name for this boat.’ Kheda followed and hauled himself up, clambering awkwardly over the rail encumbered by his armour. ‘We’ll call her the Reteul.”

  ‘It’s my boat and I’ll thank you to remember that. I’ll think about a good name.’ Dev had already shed his hauberk and was lifting a long oar over the rail. ‘This’ll be a cursed sight easier once I have my magic back,’ he muttered dandy in Tormalin.

  Velindre was lifting a trap door set midway between the stern and the mast. ‘What’s down here?’

  ‘A single hold.’ Kheda ducked to shuck his own chain mail. ‘With everything we need for a voyage of some distance,’ he added, straightening up.

  ‘We’ve been ready for days. What kept you?’ Dev grunted as he shoved at the shore. ‘Come on, lend a hand.’

  Kheda picked up a second long sweep and went to help him.

  ‘What kept us?’ Risala moved to the mast and began efficiently adjusting ropes and sailcloth. ‘Apart from the rainy season winds coming up from the south at full force?’

  ‘I shall need to spend a little time seeing just how the winds and weather work in these latitudes.’ Velindre sat on the deck, feet tucked up, perfectly composed.

  ‘I’ve had enough of living as half the man I should be.’ The Reteul was afloat now and Dev dug his oar viciously into the shallow water, barbarian words harsh. ‘As soon as we’re clear of this anchorage, you two can manage the boat between you. I’m going to sleep until I can wake up a wizard again.’

  Kheda matched the mage stroke for stroke as they rowed the Reteul out into open water. Risala raised the triangular sail and deftly caught the slight night wind. The boat moved through the darkness as stealthily as its namesake as the two wizards disappeared into the hold.

  ‘How rapidly the rain has cleared,’ Risala remarked, looking up at the star-strewn sky. ‘How long do you suppose that can last, at this season?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Kheda surveyed the dim and dangerous waters ahead. ‘If any cloud hides that moon, we’ll be blind.’

  Is this how it will end? All my deceits and these wizards along with them drowned in the all-concealing sea?

  ‘I’ll keep watch from the prow.’ Risala walked briskly forward to be hidden by the mast and sail.

  Kheda set a course for the open western horizon. As the obedient boat skimmed lightly over the sea, he realised that Velindre and Dev were talking down in their hammocks, their voices just audible through the open hatch to the hold. He strained to understand the Tormalin tongue they were using.

  ‘So what do you make of life as a eunuch?’ the bald wizard enquired with amusement.

  ‘It’s not without interest,’ replied Velindre dryly. ‘There’s a strange freedom to having everyone assume you’re one thing while you’re really something quite different.’

  ‘Why else do you think I spend so much time in these islands?’ chuckled Dev.

  No, that’s not what I mean.’ Velindre fell silent for a moment. ‘I’m thinking more about being freed from expectations. Everyone’s always expecting something in Hadrumal, something more, even if they don’t know what it is. You’re always searching for it. Hereabouts? Everything’s set out for you, depending on where you were born. Everyone knows what’s expected of them. Few people seem to see any need to move out of their allotted sphere.’

  ‘You call that freedom?’ scoffed Dev. ‘That potion of theirs has dulled your wits as well as your affinity. And there are plenty of people in these islands out to escape their lot with smuggled liquor, dream smokes or a willing girl. I’ve made a good living selling all three. Fancy coming into business with me when we’re done here?’

  ‘Go pleasure yourself with your sword hilt,’ Velindre replied without heat. You might know more about these islands if you didn’t spend all your time in the bilges. I’ve read a handful of their philosophers debating the precise nature of freedom on my way here. Archipelagans don’t think like us but they certainly think. This is a far more curious place than I ever imagined’

  ‘You’re not here to be curious; you’re here to help me kill this dragon and whatever cocky bastard of a wild wizard’s raising it.’ There was a cruel hunger in Dev’s voice. ‘Can you do this? Can we? Truly?’

  ‘I believe so.’ Velindre sounded definite.

  ‘Better show me the trick of it,’ Dev observed casually. ‘Just in case.’

  ‘Hardly,’ the magewoman retorted. ‘I don’t trust you with that kind of magic’

  ‘What if you need me to save your skin?’ challenged Dev.

  ‘I’ll just have to make sure I don’t,’ Velindre countered.

  There was another silence, this time so long Kheda thought both barbarians had fallen asleep.

  ‘I’ll show you the trick of it when I take the knowledge back to Hadrumal, along with word of all that’s happened down here,’ said Velindre at last. ‘I’ll want to call a witness before the Council. You’re hardly ideal but you’ll do.’

  ‘Flattery will get you everywhere,’ muttered Dev.

  Velindre’s reply was inaudible and after that there was nothing more to be heard.

  Once they were past the coastal reefs of Esabir, Risala moved to satisfy herself that the sail was rigged to best advantage. Then she came aft to sit on the stern thwart with Kheda, the tiller between them. They sat in silence as they sailed through the moonlight.

  ‘What’s Dev been like, stripped of his magic?’ she asked some little while later.

  ‘Oddly diminished,’ Kheda said after a moment’s thought. ‘As unpleasant as ever, when he puts his mind to it. He’s just not been putting his mind to it as much. What about the woman, Velindre?’

  ‘More desperate than diminished.’ Risala shivered and not merely from the cool breeze. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted to be sailing with her without a crew of loyal Chazen to cow her. Still, she threw herself into her studies, by way of distraction. She can certainly pass f
or a scholar now.’

  ‘The only thing that distracted Dev was alcohol,’ Kheda admitted, shamefaced.

  ‘I saw,’ said Risala with some alarm. ‘That could hardly reflect well on you.’

  No one else knows.’ Kheda shook his head. No one saw him drunk. What else could I do?’

  Risala had no answer to that. They sat in silence as Kheda steered the little boat well clear of a dark islet rimmed with pale, noisy surf.

  ‘The mood in Chazen is strange,’ Risala commented. ‘On a knife edge.’

  ‘There have been positive omens.’ Kheda looked at her. Not many, I’ll grant you, but such as have been seen, all have counselled patience and trust in a beneficial outcome.’

  ‘Word seems to be circulating.’ She nodded thoughtfully. ‘The people are telling each other to trust in them.’

  ‘In the omens?’ Kheda asked quizzically. Not in me?’

  ‘I haven’t heard open doubts expressed.’ Risala shrugged, a shadow in the dim moonlight. ‘It’s been a perilous season.’

  Kheda concentrated on steering a straight course. ‘What are people making of the way this dragon seems to have taken to some lair rather than burning or plundering any more islands?’

  Risala shrugged again. No one seems to know what to make of anything to do with the dragon.’

  ‘Do you trust me?’ Kheda stared straight ahead, hand light on the tiller. ‘Do you believe I’m doing what I honestly think best for Chazen?’

  ‘Yes,’ Risala replied without hesitation. Kheda waited, sensing there was more to come. ‘People believe you’re doing your best by Chazen and by Itrac’ Risala’s voice was studiedly neutral. ‘There are wagers circulating around most anchorages as to when she’ll quicken with child.’

  ‘I wish I thought I was doing the right thing by her,’ Kheda admitted without reserve. ‘I can’t help thinking of Sain Daish when I look at Itrac. They’re much of an age. I keep wondering what Sain thinks of me now. That was a marriage of convenient alliance like this one and I thought keeping her in luxury and pleasuring her in bed was all that was required of me.’ He trusted that the veil of night was hiding his expression. ‘That was certainly all Rekha ever expected. But Sain was shy and nervous and I barely had a chance to get to know her before all this confusion threw us apart. Her life could have been very different if her brother hadn’t married her off to me.’ He caught his breath and concentrated on steering the boat as an unseen current tugged at the tiller.