Then she had woken up in the Embalmer Snail’s work room, frightening herself a great deal more than Snail. It had taken Snail all that was left of that night and all the next day to convince Gossamer she was really dead, and was, in fact, already partly embalmed. But Corman and Dabray said her situation could be repaired. She wondered if they meant to cast some sort of magic to recreate her vital organs, but felt too squeamish to ask. When she left Dabray, there had been a juddering thump in her chest. She’d stopped, reaching to the wall for support, but it hadn’t happened again and Corman hadn’t waited for her. So she had hurried after him.
The First Daughter had not mentioned Gossamer’s physical state. Instead, she had explained what she was asking Gossamer Tewk to participate in. She had spoken of the Splintered Kingdom but thinking back on exactly what she’d said, Gossamer was not much enlightened. Somehow there was a link between the Dark Realm and the Splintered Kingdom, and many other places Lerran had simply referred to as Places Between. Gossamer understood only that Favrian would open one of those damn gateways into the place and then they were to find the young woman and the guard they’d all seen in dreams or sendings, and get them out.
It all sounded far too simple and straightforward to Gossamer Tewk. She’d learned, very early in life, that there were few things that were simple. She stared out at the stars, wondering why the First Daughter had made no mention of any inhabitants in this Splintered Kingdom. And surely there must be inhabitants, else how could those two people have been captured and imprisoned there? Gossamer was given to understand that the woman they were to rescue was connected with a Dragon far across the sea. Halfway round the world in fact, where Seola and Nenat had already gone.
Gossamer had always had a scepticism regarding Dragons, which she now had to revise after her encounter with Dabray. There was no mistaking what the enormous carving in that deep chamber represented. She shivered, thinking of the half exposed head, the eye of so many changing colours. But was it a carving with some kind of spell making that partial face seem alive? Or had it really once been a living Dragon? And Dabray had referred to the First Daughter as his wife. How could a woman marry a Dragon?
Gossamer rubbed her eyes which felt oddly gritty, and lay down on the bed. She was concerned about the child coming on this venture and had asked the First Daughter if she truly thought it wise to put Shea in danger. Lerran had simply smiled and said that Shea would be a valuable member of their team.
Gossamer knew she didn’t sleep: being dead cancelled out sleep. But there was no way she could doubt that she had slept because she was jolted awake by a crushing pain in her chest. She lay perfectly still and the pain did not recur. Indeed, it vanished quite as abruptly as it had arrived. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat for a while, just to convince herself that she felt nothing more. The room was bright, the sun risen a finger’s width above the sea. Deep in worried thought, Gossamer went through to the sitting room from whence she could hear Shea chattering to one of the maids.
‘Good day Gossamer,’ said Shea through a mouthful of bread and jam.
The maid smiled a greeting. Shea swallowed and peered harder at Gossamer.
‘Are you all right? You don’t look so pale as usual.’
‘I’m fine.’ Gossamer managed a smile and changed the subject. ‘Did the Shield Master drag you out for weapons drill yesterday too?’
‘Mmm.’ She choked down another too large mouthful. ‘It was fun. We have to report to him this morning.’
‘We do?’ Gossamer regarded her scabbed knuckles and answered her own question. ‘Yes, I’m sure we do.’
The day was a repeat of yesterday, although Gossamer found Sergeant Essa rather friendlier. Instead of forcing Gossamer to defend herself all the time, Essa stopped in mid attack. She demonstrated how balance and footwork saved energy and could turn the momentum of a knife attack. The Sergeant took Gossamer into the barracks when the sun and the hard work began to make her careless. She didn’t appear to notice that Gossamer left her mug of cool water untouched.
Essa spoke of her own impending departure from the Karmazen Palace. She was to lead a group of scouts into the Barrier Mountains to keep watch for Veranta’s forces. When Gossamer asked, with some hesitation, Sergeant Essa told of her upbringing in a small hamlet high in the mountains. Although the Dark Realm had known only peace for countless generations, the blood lords insisted everyone took weapon training. A few children in the many scattered hamlets proved to have an aptitude for certain skills and were sent to the Palace.
Essa grinned, revealing her filed purple teeth. ‘I don’t like swords much and explosives scare the wits out of me. But I’m good with knives and I can thump most people pretty hard.’
Gossamer winced, only too aware of how effective the Sergeant’s thumps could be.
‘But all this training,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘It isn’t real combat is it? None of the guards you train and practise with is really trying to kill you. When you actually come face to face with an armed force which is trying to slaughter you, how do you know you will be able to follow your training rather than run as fast as possible in the other direction?’
Gossamer half expected Essa to dismiss her words with a scornful laugh but the huge woman leaned her elbows on the table and replied seriously.
‘The lords test us all,’ she told Gossamer. ‘You can’t feel them do it or anything, but somehow they know how our minds work. In every batch of new trainees, a few are sent home. Oh never in disgrace – usually to stand as the militia officer for their area. But from something the Shield Master let slip once, those that are sent away are those who would waver in a real fight.’ The awful grin reappeared. ‘Learnt quite a few things from the Shield Master, in bed after a few beers.’ She winked.
Gossamer had a brief vision of the stocky Shield Master crushed to the bosom of this large woman, and pushed the scene hurriedly from her mind.
At the end of the afternoon session, Sergeant Essa slapped Gossamer on the shoulder and wished her luck before striding off to the barracks. Shield Master Garrol, Corman and Shea stood in the colonnade so Gossamer bravely forbore from whimpering at Essa’s farewell blow. Garrol took them into a small room, clearly his office, which overlooked the exercise yard and told them to be seated. He unlocked a small cupboard set in the wall behind his desk and removed a small bundle. He put it on the desk and gently unwrapped the cloth cover to expose five daggers.
‘These are Dark weapons,’ he said. ‘They are of blood metal and invested with both my strength and the power of Mother Dark.’ He slid one blade loose to reveal the black metal. ‘As long as the blade is allowed to drink whenever it is fully drawn, it will need no honing.’
Garrol drew a blade, longer than his hand, from its sheath at his belt. He held Shea’s gaze steadily then looked at Gossamer. He touched the blade to his fingertip and when blood welled, he rubbed it gently along the flat where it was immediately absorbed. Shea watched closely.
‘They must drink each time they’re drawn?’ she asked.
Garrol nodded, resheathing his own dagger. He lifted two from the desk, the two most slender and held them hilt first towards Shea.
‘Care for them well and they will always guard you.’
Shea took the knives, holding them as though they were red hot. She watched Garrol give the remaining three to Gossamer Tewk repeating the words he’d spoken to Shea. Gossamer looked down at the daggers. She had a feeling she was going to need them.
Chapter Nine
The Lady Emla eventually tracked down her guests, the Lady Seola and the Lord Cyrek, sitting in the shade by one of the fish ponds. Seola blinked rather owlishly as the Lady of Gaharn spoke to her and Cyrek gave a lopsided grin. Emla frowned.
‘Have you been exploring my gardens all morning?’ she enquired.
‘Fenj showed us some of it,’ Seola yawned. ‘Introduced us to your gardener. Said he was a dear friend of his.’
Emla leaned closer
and sniffed but Seola didn’t notice. ‘Dear stars, they both need
a good slap.’ She put her hands on her hips and glared at Cyrek. ‘Tell me you didn’t try too much of that so called “restorative”?’
Cyrek chuckled. ‘Amazing stuff that. Dark knows what the other fellow’s restorative must be like – Fenj said it was rather better than Grib’s.’
‘Lorak.’ Emla sighed and dropped to sit on the grass in front of her guests. ‘Lorak was my gardener here. He went with Fenj, to Vagrantia eventually, where Thryssa lives. Lorak was instrumental in the transformation of the Dragon of Talvo Circle. She turned into a girl with feathered wings – like the gijan but with a scaled body. She went north to Mim’s Stronghold and Lorak stayed in Vagrantia. Apparently he felt someone should take care of Jeela when Fenj came back here.’
Her visitors stared at her blankly.
Emla sighed again. ‘Jeela is Farn’s sister, and she was greatly distressed by all that has happened. I admit it was a good thought of Lorak’s to stay with her, but I worry for the sobriety of Vagrantia’s citizens.’
A small orange cat trotted down the path, paused, then jumped to the raised rim of the pond. Her turquoise eyes met Cyrek’s.
‘The Dragon of Talvo who has undergone a transformation is Gremara,’ she said in mind speech. ‘She was my sister once, long ago.’
‘Your father meddled where he should not.’ Cyrek’s tone was not as harsh as his words. ‘He assumed his superiority and yet he knew nothing of this world.’
Khosa crouched down, wrapping her tail round her front feet. ‘I only realised that recently,’ she admitted. ‘Being with Tika, and Farn, and Gan and all the others, I understood that Namolos was very wrong.’ Khosa slitted her eyes and crouched lower. ‘He believes that Tika is the result of his intervention in various matings. It was on the island of Wendla that I knew she could not have been created through his manipulations.’
Emla listened carefully. Irritating though Khosa so often was, Emla knew the cat was desperately grieved at the deaths of Gan, Maressa and Seela, and by the disappearance of Tika, Sket and the old Wendlan cat, Akomi.
‘But I have never heard of this Dark Realm of yours,’ Khosa continued.‘How have you concealed yourselves for all this time?’
Cyrek stretched out his hand and slid it along Khosa’s back. ‘You surely don’t think I’d tell you that, do you little one? But we have watched your Namolos, and the others of your kind, who came from the distant stars. We are at fault for letting these plans of your father’s go unheeded and unchecked for too long. We have been complacent, an ancient failing of ours.’
They sat in silence for a time until Emla spoke.
‘May I ask who is attempting to rescue Tika and Sket? How is it you know where they are? We could only ascertain they were in a Place Between and we know only that there are a multitude of such Places.’
Seola replied, her expression more alert. ‘Two Dark Lords will make the attempt.’ She glanced at Cyrek.
‘And two others,’ he added. ‘A mortal woman and a child.’
Emla stared in horror. ‘A child?’ Her voice rose.
Cyrek shrugged. ‘The First Daughter is adamant the inclusion of those two is necessary. Your friend – Lord Kemti – we know he sees us as representatives of evil itself, but do you believe that?’
Emla didn’t hesitate. ‘No I do not. I can’t imagine why you would travel so far to help one young Dragon’s return to sanity for any evil reason.’
‘I have heard you say “by the stars” and “stars forfend” as though you revere the stars.’ Cyrek tilted his head. ‘Can you see the stars now Lady Emla?’
‘Well of course not – it is midday, the sun is bright.’
Cyrek smiled. ‘The Dark lets the stars shine forth does it not. We believe all life – and light - comes from the Dark.’
Emla filed Cyrek’s comments in her mind for much further consideration at a future time. Right now, Farn was her priority.
‘Will you make another attempt to reach Farn, Lady Seola?’
Seola shivered. ‘The First Daughter herself will try to reach him. Hag told us she will begin at darkfall tomorrow. That is soon after dawn here, allowing for the distance between the Dark Realm and this place.’
Emla had noticed Seola’s shiver and felt cold herself suddenly. ‘Is she so much stronger than you are?’
‘If Mother Dark chooses to aid her First Daughter, and I believe she will, she can achieve a strength we cannot imagine,’ Cyrek replied quietly.
‘But why would your Mother Dark choose to help one young Dragon?’
Cyrek laughed aloud. ‘Perhaps the First Daughter knows the answer to that. No one else does. We trust her and we serve.’
‘She is so far away,’ Emla fretted.
‘There is no distance within the Dark.’ Cyrek climbed to his feet and reached his hands down to both women. He pulled them upright. ‘I’m sure it must be time for food. Or that restorative has given me an appetite.’
Jemin had spent all his time with Captain Soran and was impressed by the standards of weapons skills and discipline among the Guards. He was fascinated by the accounts he heard, from Soran and some of the veterans, of the ganger wars and the more recent battles to gain control of the Northern Stronghold. With the aid of various maps, Soran described many of the skirmishes and major battles, to which Jemin paid close attention. The terrain had been mountainous and Soran and the Guards had faced the monstrous Shardi and Cansharsi. They had fought in blinding snow storms and in confining tunnels.
Jemin expected to face only men if his half sister pushed her forces to attempt a crossing of the Barrier Mountains. He discussed such a situation with Soran. The Captain was convinced an invading force such as Jemin described, should be met the instant the invaders were in territory unfamiliar to them. Surely Jemin’s men would know the lie of the land well, he argued. Therefore he should take the initiative and chase them off before they could entrench themselves.
Soran was equally fascinated by Jemin’s information on explosives. No such things were used anywhere in these lands as far as Soran knew. After some thought, Jemin asked if certain materials were known here. There was some confusion while Jemin tried to explain what he needed. One of the cooks finally recognised the description of two ingredients and Jemin cautiously made up a small amount of a compound.
Most of the Guards had heard what was afoot and watched Jemin and Soran march off to the estate boundary to the south. Jemin placed the clay pot containing his mixture on the ground, piled dead branches over it and retreated, unwinding a long cotton thread behind him. He insisted Soran lie flat beside him in a shallow gully and lit the end of the thread. Jemin maintained an air of modesty at the resulting explosion but Soran was astonished and elated. He could already envisage a plethora of uses for this wondrous substance.
Rather too late, Jemin wondered if he’d been wise to introduce even the idea of explosives. On reflection, he decided to have stringent instructions written down and then made Soran swear to keep the instructions to himself. At least until he’d tested the mixture exhaustively and had some understanding of how it could behave.
Nenat was immured with Discipline Senior Nesh and comparing the herbal bases for many medicines. Nenat recognised many plants illustrated in books in Nesh’s library and he carefully wrote the names she gave him beneath the Gaharnian names. Nenat was sorting through some of her numerous pouches, offering various seeds and dried leaves for Nesh’s inspection.
‘Ah now, this is very useful,’ she said. She pushed three tiny dried flowers each with five petals, across the table to him. They were the palest pink but Nesh guessed their colour would be much brighter when they were growing. Nenat beamed at him.
‘These are from my own clan holding. I come from the Pink Petal Clan. Many of the people in the Imperium think it’s a joke. They think no clan could hold its head high with such a silly name. But these pink petals – oh what they can do!’
‘Those are the uses of the pink petals but its root is used too. It is made into a paste and sold for enormous prices. It is the drug of choice for thousands who use it for fun or because they’re addicted to it. And they only use it a very few times for fun before addiction catches them fast.’
Nesh looked rather dubious about this last but Nenat chatted on.
‘The wealth of my clan comes from this tiny plant. Do you think it grows here? We know of only one region in all of the north where it flourishes.’ She grinned. ‘And that region is at the very heart of our clan holding.’
‘May I sketch it?’ Nesh asked. ‘It is not familiar to me. But if you help me get the exact shade of pink and describe the leaves and type of soil where it thrives, I shall get my students to look for it when they go herb hunting.’
He made a mental note to tell those students this plant was highly toxic – he’d had to deal with various addictions before. A muffled bang sounded in the distance. Nenat ignored it, still browsing through a book, but Nesh went to a window and looked south over the main gardens. The sky was clear, no storm clouds. A faint line of what seemed to be smoke drifted lazily in the distance. He turned back to Nenat. No doubt Grib had sent garden boys to tidy up fallen branches at the edge of the estate.
‘Will Lady Seola try again to reach Farn?’ he asked.
Nenat closed the book she was studying and rested her hand on its leather binding.
Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series Page 11
