The Traitor and the Chalice

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The Traitor and the Chalice Page 34

by Jane Fletcher


  *

  The women woke to silence, broken only by the whisper of shifting snow and the occasional creak from the roof. Jemeryl packed while Tevi called on all her strength to open the frozen door and dig a passage out. Before long, they stood at the entrance to the stockade. The sky was clear blue, and only a breeze stirred across the mountains.

  Despite the fine weather, it was a slow fight through snowdrifts to the top of the pass. Thereafter, the journey was downhill. Pristine fields of white swept between rock precipices, in a series of giant steps. Guessing the line of the road was impossible, so they settled for heading in the direction of down. By midday, they were below the tree line. The temperature rose beneath the dark green pines, and the snow was heavier and wetter.

  Night was falling when they reached a level plateau on the mountain side. They paused at the edge. Farms and hamlets were spread out in the valley below, but purple dusk was already swallowing the scene. Lights from fires and lanterns dotted the lowland.

  “You’re better at judging distance than me. Do you think we can make it down tonight?” Jemeryl asked.

  “We might. But then we might step off a cliff in the dark and break our necks.” Tevi pointed to a small round building. “We’d be safer stopping there until morning.”

  “Is it another of your guard posts?”

  “I’d say it was a shepherd’s hut.”

  “I don’t see any sheep.”

  “You won’t see any shepherds, either. This hillside would be summer pasture.”

  The hut had drystone walls and a straw thatch. There was a low door and no windows. No one answered their call, but a supply of split logs was piled outside and the door was unbarred. The single room held a mildew-covered straw pallet and an overpowering smell of sheep. The ground was wet where snow had blown under the loose-fitting door. A blackened circle of stones in the centre marked the hearth.

  “It’ll be better than sleeping outside.”

  Jemeryl looked as if she might have disputed the statement but said nothing.

  A fire soon warmed the room and dried the pallet, although it did nothing for the smell. Smoke flowed under the rafters before seeping out into the night. The two women sat side by side, watching their supper cooking on skewers. A blanket was draped around their shoulders to ward off the draft from under the door.

  Tevi looked at the backpack propped against the wall. In it was Lorimal’s chalice. The quest was nearly over. She fought the urge to take the chalice out. For the first time in ages, memories of Storenseg stirred in her, a sharp longing mixed with a ragbag of other emotions.

  “We should get to Denbury tomorrow.” Jemeryl broke the silence.

  “Maybe.”

  “I guess we won’t reach Lyremouth until after the spring thaw.”

  Tevi did not reply.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Storenseg.”

  “You miss it?” Jemeryl asked softly.

  “It’s hard to explain. This hut...it’s cold and squalid, but it’s just like home. It ought to make me want to stay away, but...”

  “Do you want to go back?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Jemeryl was silent for a while before launching into awkward, unstructured sentences. “I think I understand how you...want your home, but...you know I want to go to Tirakhalod. I should have asked...but if I clear it with the guild, that you’re a bodyguard or something...though if you don’t...” Jemeryl hesitated. “Would you come with me?”

  Tevi met Jemeryl’s eyes. When it came to it, the decision was really very easy.

  Chapter Eighteen—Storenseg

  The island hove into view above the bow of the small boat. Tevi ducked under the sail and looked at the familiar outline against the pale spring sky. The rush of homesickness surprised her. Just over two years had past since she left. Tevi watched the mountains grow and considered all that had happened and how much she had changed. She was not the same woman who had been exiled.

  Her hands bore the visible reminder: two red and gold swords on each. The more recent tattoos stood out in darker hues, though they would soon fade to match the rest. A smile crept over Tevi’s face. Other changes went far deeper, though they left no visible mark.

  Tevi looked over her shoulder. In the stern, Jemeryl was trying to calm the juvenile magpie in her lap as it fidgeted and fluffed its plumage.

  “We’ll be at Storenseg soon.”

  Jemeryl greeted the announcement with a wry grin. “I’m not surprised you don’t have any sorcerers. This whole area is a sink, magically speaking. I’ve got enough trouble hanging on to Klara II.” Jemeryl wiggled her fingers experimentally, leaving a trail of green sparks. “I can raise a few visual effects. They’ll have surprise value but no real use if things get nasty.”

  “Shouldn’t be any need. Thanks to Lorimal, my people worship sorcerers. A few pretty lights, a herbal cure for a hangover, and they’ll be singing your praises for generations.” Tevi grinned. “We’re not staying. Once my family learn that, they won’t cause trouble. We’ll just give them the chalice and go.”

  “What if people guess that we’re lovers?”

  “I’m sure my grandmother will work it out in an instant, and she’ll want to ensure that nobody else gets the same idea. One thing Grandmother does extremely well is manage rumours, as long as we don’t make her job too difficult.”

  “You mean I can’t kiss you in the village square?”

  “No.” Tevi laughed. “And asking my mother’s blessing for our relationship would also be a bad move.”

  Jemeryl settled back in the boat. “You know, I’ll be sorry to hand the chalice over, after all we went through.”

  “I’ll be pleased to see the end of it.” Tevi paused while she tacked into the wind. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

  “Absolutely. The Guardian herself scrubbed its memory clean. I think she wanted it as a trophy, but your guild master insisted that you complete your quest.”

  “Mercenaries always keep their word. Rule number one. Our livelihoods depend on it.” Tevi shrugged. “I pointed out that I hadn’t actually sworn to return the chalice, merely not to go back without it, but they said I was quibbling, and we’re not supposed to do that either.”

  The crashing of waves against rock became a roar. In a plume of spray, the small boat rounded the Stormfast Cliffs. The calmer waters of the bay glittered as the boat skimmed over the waves. Straight ahead was the beach, with fishing boats hauled onto the sands. Not far inland, the long halls of Holric clustered beside the river. Tevi frowned; she had not expected to see the village again, and now her memories were juggling with her emotions.

  Jemeryl shuffled forward. “What do you think they’ll make of you bringing back the chalice and then going again?”

  “If Grandmother has anything to do with it, it will become a heroic tale with very little resemblance to the truth.”

  The keel scraped on sand. Tevi jumped out and hauled the boat up the beach. She reached in and grabbed the bag containing the chalice, then swung it over her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  With a laugh, Jemeryl joined her, and the pair walked up the beach towards the small group of armed women assembling on the dunes above.

  *

  The sea breeze hissed through the tall grass on the hillside. Tevi nestled into the sheltered hollow. The Stormfast Cliffs rose on the other side of the bay. Beyond them, bands of foam chased across the open sea and two fishing boats were returning with their catch. Smoke rising from Holric spiralled away in the wind.

  Preparations were in progress for another feast in her honour. Tevi did not know whether to laugh or be sick. When the absurdity had got too much to stomach, she had escaped to her hidden vantage point, but she could not spend all night on the hillside. Somehow, she would have to get herself through the charade.

  If only she could have simply tossed the chalice to her grandmother and then got straight back in the boat and
left. However, questions were asked; Jemeryl had answered; and before Tevi had time to react, there were emotional speeches, and all sorts of folk were taking turns to hug her. It felt as if everyone was playing a game, but nobody would tell her the rules.

  It was far worse than the return to Lyremouth, which had been nerve-racking enough. There, they had been questioned until everyone was happy that she and Jemeryl were innocent of any wrongdoing. Then had followed congratulations and rewards, but all done very discreetly. The story was not going to become common knowledge. Tevi had been promoted to vouchsafed guild member, and Jemeryl had been given permission to study with Bykoda. As a final mark of favour, Tevi was to go with her. Many clearly disapproved of their relationship, but the Guardian was not putting obstacles in their way.

  Tevi had learned that Russ and the others had not been blamed for failing to deliver her to Lyremouth as prisoner. Not when they had been contending with a sorcerer. Tevi was relieved, and if Russ’s report did not exactly match her memories, she was not about to contradict it. She hoped that someday, they would meet up again and could joke about the affair.

  The sound of someone approaching put an end to Tevi’s musing. Laff appeared at the edge of the hollow. The two sisters studied each other awkwardly.

  “Um.” Laff cleared her throat. “People are wondering where you are. I’ve come to look for you. I saw you slip off, and I knew you used to like sitting here.”

  “Er, yes. It’s just...I’m finding it strange being back after so long away. I wanted some time alone to think.”

  “If you like, I’ll say I couldn’t find you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Laff shifted from foot to foot a few times before sitting down, facing Tevi across the hollow. “Tomorrow, you’re really going to leave for good...and not come back?”

  “Yes.”

  Laff’s eyes fixed on the ground between them. “You know, for a moment this morning, when I saw you on the beach, with the chalice, I thought....” She swallowed. “I’ve missed you.”

  “You can still make jokes about me while I’m not here.” Tevi covered her surprise with irony.

  “I’m sorry about all that. I never really meant it.”

  “You had me fooled.”

  “No, it was...” Laff took a deep breath. “I think I was hoping that if I pushed you hard enough, one day you’d snap and come back at me. Even when we were fighting, part of me wanted you to kick the snot out of me and put me in my place. I knew it wasn’t going to happen, but...”

  Tevi stared in astonishment, searching for something to say. “Well, if it will make you happy, we can try now. Jem has fixed my eyesight. It’s made a big difference.”

  “Do you think you’d win?”

  “Do you want to try?”

  “No.” Laff raised her head, but rather than meet Tevi’s eyes, she looked across the bay. “You’ve changed.”

  “I know. My eyes are now grey, and everyone’s been telling me I talk funny. I think Jemeryl’s accent is rubbing off on me.”

  “It’s not that. You’re more like yourself.”

  “Who did I used to be like?”

  “You know what I mean. It was like you were hiding yourself before.”

  “There were bits of me I had to hide...as you know.”

  Laff winced and bit her lip while she framed her next sentence. “This sorcerer you’re leaving with. You’re going to be travelling on together?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re good friends?”

  “Very.”

  “Um...you and her...do er, are you—”

  Tevi interrupted. “Before you ask that question, you ought to be sure you want to hear the answer.”

  For a while, the only sound was the wind. Eventually, Laff said quietly, “I guess that means yes.”

  Tevi shrugged an agreement.

  “When they told me what Grandmother was planning...with Brec in the hay barn...I didn’t believe it, despite what I’d said. I was sure you’d tell Brec to go jump in the sea...and afterwards, when you’d gone...I didn’t know what to think. I still don’t.”

  “That’s because life on the islands doesn’t give you much practice at thinking.”

  Laff frowned in confusion. “So what would happen on the mainland if people found out?”

  “Nothing. Lots already know.”

  “Don’t they object?”

  “Some mutter things like ‘How can you let yourself get involved with a sorcerer?’ But that’s it.”

  “Why does it matter that Jemeryl’s a sorcerer?”

  Tevi choked back her laughter. “I don’t know where to start answering that. It’s all very different.”

  “So here’s where you’ve run off to!” Jemeryl’s voice made them jump. They had not heard her footsteps through the grass.

  Laff sprung up. Her eyes darted between the two lovers, finishing nervously on Tevi. “I’ll see you later, but, um.. I hope you...I hope everything goes all right. And if ever you want to come home...” Laff covered her embarrassment with a weak smile. “Look after yourself.” She backed away and then all but fled the hollow.

  Jemeryl turned apologetically to Tevi. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

  “It’s all right. I think the conversation was starting to run aground.”

  Jemeryl sat down, noticeably closer to Tevi than Laff had been. A second later, Klara II swooped down.

  “Did the two of you come up here for a private chat?”

  “No. I was hiding, and Laff found me.”

  “Why hiding?”

  “It’s all so—” Tevi waved her arm. “Everyone’s acting like they’d always thought I was a hero and their best friend. I’m left wondering whether it’s my memory that’s cracking up.”

  “Your mother hasn’t exactly clasped you to her bosom, and she’s been sending some very filthy looks at me.”

  “Which is reassuring. I know just where I stand with her. Everything else is on its head. The only one who used to talk to me was Brec, and she’s avoiding me, which I admit I’m pleased about, but for the rest...” Tevi threw up her hands. “And Holric. It used to be impressive, the biggest village on the island, with the royal hall. Now it looks small and shabby, and it stinks of rotten fish. And worse.”

  “Your grandmother is quite impressive.”

  “You’ve been talking to her?”

  “Yes. I think I should suggest that every sorcerer in the Coven comes out here for a chat.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s brought home to me the way ungifted people on the mainland are so deferential. Making it clear that they’d never presume to see themselves as my equal.” She snuggled closer to Tevi. “Except for you.”

  “It’s the thing you love about me?”

  “It’s the thing that allows me to love all the other things about you. However, your grandmother was perfectly polite but made it quite clear that she saw herself as innately superior to me. I’ve never had an ungifted person do that before.”

  “Of course. She’s the queen.”

  “Anyway, she’s impressed me with her command of rumours. She’s got everyone believing that you’re going with me tomorrow because I need your help with something that is so mysterious and important that we can’t talk about it. The clever thing is that she started the rumour by not saying it, and the more she doesn’t say it, the more people believe it.”

  “I guess my grandmother hasn’t changed much either.”

  “Despite what you said, if we kissed in the village square, I’ll bet your grandmother could persuade people that it wasn’t what they thought.”

  “Since we’re outnumbered four hundred to two, I don’t think we should put it to the test.”

  Jemeryl caught hold of Tevi’s hand. “You know, I was worried coming here.”

  “I told you there wouldn’t be any trouble.”

  “Not that. I was frightened that when you saw your old home, you’d want to stay.”

  Te
vi laughed. “No chance. There’s nothing here that I want. Maybe part of me thinks I should try to change things so that men get treated like adults and the women don’t spend so much time killing one another. But they won’t accept the message from me. I reckon it will take people here ten days at most to remember that they used to think I was a joke.” Tevi pulled Jemeryl around and stared into her eyes. “But even if I could fit in here, I wouldn’t want to. While you were in the coma, I was forced to consider what life would be like without you, and I’m not interested in it. As long as you want me, I’m staying with you.”

  “That might be quite some time.”

  Tevi planted one quick kiss on Jemeryl’s lips. “Good.”

  Appendix

  The Legend of Princess Tevirik

  As told by the women of the Western Isles

  Once upon a time, a daughter was born to the royal house of Storenseg. Her birth name was Strikes-like-lightning, but even as a small child, she was so warlike that her greatest delight was her armour and weapons, so the people called her Tevirik, after the goddess of blacksmiths. She grew to be tall and brave and was her mother’s pride. All her people longed for the day when she would become queen and lead the war-band to victory.

  Now, as is told elsewhere, Storenseg was where Abrak first made the magic potion that gives warriors their strength. The most precious of Abrak’s relics was her chalice, but one day, when Tevirik was scarcely grown to womanhood, an evil sorcerer sent an enchanted raven to steal it. The women of Storenseg were angry and dismayed at their loss, but no one knew what to do about it.

  Soon, the tale of the theft spread among all the Western Isles. The queen of Rathshorn especially found it amusing and joked that the women of Storenseg were so weak that even a bird could pillage their halls.

 

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