by CK Dawn
“Ridiculous,” muttered Daybian as he unbuckled his swordbelt and laid it on a hay bale. He stripped off the rest the finery, then plucked the flying suit from the wall: the leather trousers and jacket that sealed his skin from the wind, and the helmet and special eye protections that he used when he was flying in a race.
A zirichak could fly very fast, and the wind could easily injure a naked eye.
Sheesha had settled once the armsmen left. He made a low rumbling sound deep in his throat as Daybian approached, but whether it was because he was pleased to see his master or excited about the prospect of flying after so many days of inactivity, there was no way of knowing. Kantees handed the reins to Daybian with a slight bow and went to undo the chain.
She heard Daybian speaking quietly to Sheesha, making sure he knew who was going to ride him. Sheesha rumbled again. There was no reason that Sheesha should not like Daybian, but the reaction always caused a little twinge of jealousy in Kantees’ chest. But, she reminded herself, Sheesha had let her sleep with him.
She undid the chain and ran it through the first and second loops.
“Perhaps you are trying to kill me after all,” said Daybian.
Kantees went cold. She looked up to where Daybian sat, poised in the saddle on Sheesha’s back. His knees too high, it looked as if he were perching on a table. Kantees swallowed hard, realising she had forgotten to lengthen the stirrups after her ride.
She dropped the chain and rushed over, desperately trying to come up with an excuse that would sound reasonable. In a voice that almost squeaked with her panic, she blurted out her lie. “I am so sorry, my lord, I cleaned the tack and moved the buckles to remove the marks lower down.”
Daybian laughed. “Don’t worry, Kantees, these things happen. I’m not about to send you for a lashing.”
How casually you joke about such a thing, she thought. You have never been beaten or lashed.
And then she cursed herself for being such a fool. The new falsehood was now added to all the others. She quickly lengthened the stirrups to their usual position, then went back to finish removing the chains. Finally, she unhooked them from the loop on Sheesha’s leg.
She backed away as Daybian prepared to launch them from the eyrie. Sheesha screeched in delight. Daybian gave him his head and the zirichak ran at the eyrie door and leapt from it, his wings snapping open. He dropped for a moment and then powerful strokes lifted him back into sight.
Moments later he slid off to the left and disappeared from view, though another screech from him echoed across the castle.
There was a pile of steaming ziri poop on the floor. It was what they did. Perhaps it was to lighten the load, but they would always defecate before taking off. Kantees sighed and went to fetch a bucket and shovel. Though it occurred to her that Sheesha had not done that on the night of the raid.
Six
“Have you heard?” said Libbibet as she doled out the breakfast porridge. Her face was drawn in concern.
“Heard what?”
“About Gally?”
Kantees drew in a breath. “What about Gally?”
“The armsmen took him this morning.”
“What are you talking about?”
The porridge hung suspended from the spoon like a threat.
“They say he was working with the raiders.”
“What?” Kantees almost shouted. “That’s ridiculous, he can barely put two words together that make sense.”
“You can say that,” said Libbibet. “But he knows things about the raid. They’ll get the truth out of him.”
The porridge slopped into Kantees’ bowl but she just put it down where she was and turned, looking for Romain. He was sitting in his usual chair. She headed towards him as Libbibet chided her for forgetting her breakfast.
Kantees sat down in front of him.
“Heard then, have you?” He glanced up at her from his bowl. “To think we had a traitor right here with us.”
“Gally’s no traitor.”
“Lord Jakalain says he is.”
And that, for Romain, was that.
“What have they done with him?”
“Locked in the cells, I shouldn’t wonder. They’ll get what they can from him and hang him.”
“How can you sit there and say that? Gally is our friend, he’s one of us. He’s Kadralin like you and me.”
“Sssssh,” muttered Romain. “You want to join him? I don’t. And now I have to take one of those stupid keepers from the yearlings to help tend the old ones. Gally was stupid but he didn’t complain.”
“He wasn’t stupid, he was just simple. He is just simple.”
Kantees stood up. Indecision pulled at her. She needed to find out what was happening with Gally. Perhaps the rumours were wrong. Perhaps there was another reason why he had been arrested. Sheesha needed her—but not straight away, since she had already done most of what was needed for the morning and she was not expecting Daybian today.
She looked back at Romain and sat again. “What’s Dunor?”
He looked up at her with a frown. “What’s what?”
“What’s Dunor? Is it a family? A person? A position? A place? Have you heard of it?”
“Dunor?” She nodded but he shook his head. “Never heard of it.”
“Are you sure?”
“What’s this about?” he asked suspiciously.
She ignored him and got to her feet again. Instead of heading back up the tower, she strode across the kitchen towards the door that led outside and to the main part of the castle. As she walked, she felt Romain’s and Libbibet’s eyes on her back.
She stepped through into the main courtyard. The day was bright with only a few broken clouds moving steadily across the sky.
What was she doing? She had no idea. She knew she wanted to see Gally but no idea how she could achieve it. There was no reason for them to let her see him. So she stood a few paces into the courtyard filled with people bustling about. All the activities of the castle were going on around her and she was not a part of any of them.
Considering Romain’s reaction, she did not think she could even stop anyone to ask where to go. If they knew anything about Gally, they would already have made up their minds as to his guilt.
If Gally was hanged it would be her fault.
“Kantees.”
She bowed her head automatically at the sound of Daybian’s voice.
“Sire.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry, sire, I heard about Gally—Galiko.”
“Yes, he is being questioned.”
“I don’t understand. He’s just a half-wit. What could he possibly know? More likely he just dreamed something and believes it to be true.”
“One would hope your loyalty to your master is as strong as that to your friend.”
Loyalty to my friend? Yes, I am that. But loyal to my owner? she thought. I am as loyal as a knife. Romain might be happy with his lot, but I know that I am a slave and that does not please me.
“As you say, sire” was all she chose to say.
“You wish to see him?”
“That was my intention, sire, but now that I am here I realise my foolishness. I was about to return to my place in the eyrie.”
“Come with me.” He strode off to the right to where a number of armsmen were lounging around a barrel.
Unable to argue, Kantees trailed in his footsteps.
The armsmen snapped to attention as Daybian approached. “Where is the slave Galiko being held? One of you can take me.”
The most senior, a sergeant by his armband, bowed. “Aye, my lord. This way.”
Kantees did not fail to notice how fast things could be made to happen when one was the son of the lord and carried his authority. But it would be a long time before Daybian was in charge. His father was still quite young and strong.
The sergeant brought them to an entrance in the wall and then down into a tight corridor. As far as Kantees knew, th
e castle of the Jakalain had never been broached by enemies, certainly not within living memory, but the castle itself was designed for warfare. These narrow passages forced people to fight one at a time.
The walls were etched with patterns said to come alive if an enemy dared to enter. Quite what would happen, no one knew. Kantees doubted anything would; after so much time, the magic would be gone.
She gasped as they entered a room lit by torches and filled with devices to pierce, puncture, squeeze, and rend. It was not that she recognised any of the tools, but she knew what they were for by reputation. A torture chamber. The memories of the Kadralin slaves were near-endless, and in the long winter nights they passed around stories about masters who took pleasure in the pain of their possessions. And then they would drink to the continuing health of the Jakalain, who did not do such things.
Unless they want to extract information from a half-wit who has none, she thought. Not true, though. Gally did have information and if he told them, for whatever reason, it would incriminate her. So why was she here, really? Was it for Gally, or for herself?
Both, probably. Gally would be scared. He couldn’t possibly understand what was going on.
They passed through the torture room to a series of cells constructed with iron bars. There were a few ragged men and women here, and she had no idea who they were, except that they were Kadralin by their skin. They were all underfed, with their joints stark against their drawn skin, and listless. If they looked up at her at all it was with eyes that barely focused.
Then they reached Gally. He sat on the floor with his back to the other cells as if he did not want to see them. And well he might not. He had such a gentle spirit, the sight would hurt him.
“And here he is,” said Daybian with a gesture of his hand as if he were conjuring her friend from a mist.
Unlike the ones who had been here longer, Gally turned at his voice, first taking in the lordling and then seeing her. His face lit up with hope, and her heart broke with the pain of it.
“Kantees,” he always stretched the second part of her name almost as if he loved to say it. He reached through the bars and she took his hand.
“Are you all right, Gally?”
“No, Kantees, this is a bad place.”
“I know.”
Gally’s eyes flicked to Daybian and back. “I told them,” he said.
And she felt a cold spear lance through her. But if he had told them about her, then she would not be on this side of the bars.
“What did you tell them?”
“I ride the ziri, I ring the bell.”
Kantees closed her eyes and felt her heart pounding in her breast. Tears squeezed out between her lids. He was sacrificing himself for her. Sacrificing himself for her lies.
She looked at Daybian. As a slave she was forbidden to look him directly in the eye, but she did it anyway. “And you believe him? Him?”
Daybian shrugged. “It’s nothing to do with me. He confessed to a crime and the punishment is death.”
“But he’s a half-wit. You can’t trust what he says.”
“As I say, it’s none of my business.”
“One day you will own this castle and the slaves in it. Would you rather be known as a tyrant who does not care?”
“You speak out of place.”
She turned away and dropped her gaze to the floor. “I deserve to be beaten.”
“Yes. You do,” he said. There was a long pause. “I will mention the concern to my father but I doubt it will make any difference. A zirichak was seen and it is believed the rider rang the alarm bell. If it did not come with the raiders, it must have come from here. If Gally did not do it himself, he knows who did. Either way he is committing a crime.”
Kantees held her tongue and hated herself for doing it. She wanted to say: But why would he even admit it unless he was protecting someone? And the number of people that he could possibly be protecting was limited to only two: Romain and her.
“Is there anything I can do to make it better here?” she said. If she could not save Gally, perhaps she could at least reduce his suffering.
“There are no rules preventing you from bringing items for him.”
“I am a slave, sire, I own nothing. He owns nothing.”
“Food is allowed.”
She nodded and squeezed Gally’s hand. “I’ll come back.”
“No, Kantees. This is a bad place.”
She gave him a smile. “It is a very bad place, Gally, so a visit from a friend is a good thing.”
He pulled back his hand and returned to where he had been, with his back to everything.
She wanted to cry again but held it back. The dark eyes of the man in the cell next to Gally caught hers once more, and he stared at her. She hesitated as Daybian moved past her, and then followed him.
They came out into the daylight. Kantees thought it was strange. After being in the dungeon, she felt it should be night out here as well. And yet the morning was not even halfway gone.
“It is the spring feast in a few days,” said Daybian. “The Mother will feed the earth with her power.”
“It is a Kadralin feast, sire.”
“The power of the Mother cannot be denied,” he said, “when her milk can be seen to come from the moons.”
He had hesitated for a fraction of a moment before he said moons. She knew that he had intended to use a more common term. A low word. The power of the Mother descended to the earth when Colimar and Lostimal stood together in the sky. It did not take a great deal of imagination to see them as a woman’s breast. Even the Kadralin said it.
The ley circle nearest to the castle was not one of the great ones that twisted the nature of the world when the conjunction happened, but neither was it one of the tiny ones that were barely ever fed. It was a decent size and it was only because Jakalain was in the middle of nowhere that it did not command more importance in the world.
Jakalain had little value to the Taymalin who occupied the Isle of Esternes.
“I had thought to take part in the festivities,” he said.
The orgy, she translated. It was true the Kadralin could become quite wild at the festivals, and it was common enough for the Taymalin to join in. She could see where this was going, and yet she could not directly refuse even though she had no desire to lie with him. She had no desire to lie with anybody. But when all was said, she was a slave and he was the son of her owner.
“I am sorry, but I cannot attend the feast. I will be tending to Sheesha,” she said. “He does not like to be disturbed at night, and it makes him irritable the next day. The noise upsets him.”
“I will come up to the eyrie. We will watch the feeding of the earth from there. It would provide an excellent view.”
And now I have made it worse, she thought. He will expect me to be there.
“As you wish, sire,” she said. She would just have to hope that he would get caught up with someone else or decide it was not worth the effort. She shook her head as she walked away. He was a man. The opportunity to lie with a woman, and one that he had just convinced himself desired it, would be the strongest attraction.
She had condemned herself.
Seven
Later that day Kantees scrounged some food from Libbibet and went off to the cells.
Since she was not accompanied by Daybian, she was stopped by the guards. She wished they could be given a lashing for the things they said to her. But she could not respond, or she would have been on the receiving end of the lash—something she had thus far managed to avoid in her life, and she did not want to start now.
However, it was when one of them suggested she might be “available” for the spring festival that she simply suggested he would need to ask Lord Daybian for her use after he had finished with her. That shut him, and the rest of them, up. And she continued with no further molestation.
At least that wasn’t a lie, she thought, although if she could think of a way out of Daybian’s plan for he
r she would take it.
There was a solution, she knew. She could tell the truth. If she revealed that it was she who had ridden Sheesha and saved the castle, then Gally would be safe and she might be able to hope that she would get away with a severe lashing—since the fact she had saved the castle might count in her favour.
Except Jelamie was not saved.
So instead she could confess to Daybian when he arrived tomorrow night and then throw herself off the tower. That would solve all the problems—except Jelamie, but that really wasn’t her problem since she had not caused him to be kidnapped. That was someone else’s problem.
She came down into the cell and found Gally still facing the corner.
“Gally?” she said. He turned and his face lit up at the sight of her. He climbed to his feet and came to the bars. She passed the packages through.
“It’s just some food,” she said. “Libbibet said I could give it to you.”
“Thank you, Kantees.”
The man in the cell next door was looking at her again. It wasn’t that she knew every slave in the castle by sight but she was sure he wasn’t one of them. The cut of his clothes was unusual and even his face seemed out of place. His skin was very dark even for a Kadralin—it was like midnight.
She turned her attention back to Galiko. “Have they hurt you?”
He shook his head and focused on the shrivelled apple which was one of the few remaining from last season. The kitchen staff kept the apples on trays in the cellars. They dried up but stayed edible, though mostly they were put into pies. It was still a few months before there would be any fresh.
There was bread, too, and a stone bottle of water.
She moved along the iron bars to get away from the one who watched her, but there really wasn’t enough space in Gally’s cell.
“What have you told them?”
“I kept your secret, Kantees, I won’t let them kill you.”
Once more she felt like crying. “You should have just said you didn’t know anything.”
He looked at her as if she were talking nonsense. “Master Daybian knew. They said they would hurt me if I did not say my secret.”
