Southern Fire ac-1

by Juliet E. McKenna

  Hauling on his oar with mounting frustration, he broke the rhythm of rowing with Fenal and the boat lurched awkwardly.

  'Sorry,' frowned Fenal.

  'No, my fault,' said Kheda shortly.

  They rowed on in silence, without further mishap, until they reached the galley.

  'There,' said Bee happily. 'I knew we could eat on ship.'

  'Got a bowl?' Kheda reached up to tie the rowboat securely to the end of the galley's stern ladder as Bee climbed aboard.

  'And a spoon,' Fenal grinned, patting a leather shoulder sack that had travelled a good few domains.

  'Let's find you something to fill them both.' Kheda waved him up to the galley's main decks. 'You can earn a meal working the rowboat today, whether or not you join us.'

  And I can earn my keep playing soothsayer for Godine. I may as well repay him with some guidance, even if I can find none for myself

  'There'd better be some meat today, not more cursed leaves.' Ialo was already in the line by the cookhouse on the deck. 'We can't row on slops.'

  'You won't row at all if I knock you senseless.' The cook made a perfunctory threat with his heavy wooden ladle. 'And leaves stop your gums rotting.'

  'Any sailer cakes?' asked Kheda as he and Fenal reached the steaming cauldron.

  'Help yourself.' The cook jerked his head at a heaped basket before dumping a ladleful of leaves, roots and roughly chopped fish into the next man's bowl.

  'Take one,' Kheda instructed Fenal. 'Follow me.'

  'He's a practical sort, our soothsayer.' Paire came over to join them by the side rail, shovelling food into his mouth with a stained horn spoon. 'Reads his omens in anything.'

  Fenal looked at Kheda. 'What do I do?'

  'Break the cake over the rail, with both hands.' Kheda watched the pieces fall.

  A clean break into two pieces, that's a good omen in itself. Plenty of little fish coming up to nibble around that half something larger lurking beneath. Not so good if it eats the fingerfish. Will the sea birds join the fishes? One or both will shun food from a man's hands if there's overt misfortune in his future. Jatta taught you that and he's yet to be proved wrong.

  He waited but no dark shadow rose up to swallow the darting silver flashes and a pair of raucous pied sea birds appeared to squabble over the pieces of sailer cake floating away, stabbing at them with their scarlet beaks.

  'I see no reason why you shouldn't join the Springing Fish,' he announced.

  'Glad to hear it.' There was distinct relief in Fenal's broad smile.

  Paire jerked his head towards the cookhouse as he scooped up the last wilted greenery with his spoon. 'Better get fed, Cadirn, or you'll go hungry again, soothsayer or no.'

  Are you still waiting for Telouet to appear at your elbow with whatever you need? That's past hoping for. All you can hope for is he lived, even if rumour trailing in merchant ships' wakes is never going to tell you if he died.

  By the time Kheda had retrieved his bowl from the shoulder sack slung beside his hammock on the rowing deck, he was the last to claim his share of the stew. The rain was coming heavier again, so he retreated down to the rowing benches to find Fenal and Paire deep in conversation. Most of the stern contingent were down there, relaxing on their benches as the rain drummed on the planks overhead. A couple played an idle game of stones in the circle carved in the midpoint of the gangway.

  'Mind where you're putting your feet,' one said to Kheda, not looking up.

  'This is Gaska ware, isn't it?' The slighter man was studying Fenal's spoon. 'You've shipped down from the northeast.'

  'I've been all over these reaches.' Fenal paused, looking around 'You've come up from the south, Bee says. All kinds of rumours from there are blowing along the beach.'

  'Savages have invaded the southernmost domain, Chazen, sinking ships and burning islands with enchantments.' The tense note in Tagir's voice betrayed his fear.

  At least that's the same tale as every man who's come aboard in the last four domains; always Chazen, never Daish. They've no reason to lie, so that has to be worth something.

  Kheda sat down a few benches away and reached inside his carry sack for the piece of sea ivory. He pulled the sharp narrow knife that one of the prow rowers had given him in return for treating a persistent abscess on one foot out of the split and battered sheath where he wedged the crude stolen blade.

  'That's old news,' retorted Paire.

  'Is there word of any other domains under threat? Beyond Chazen?' Kheda carved a careful scale into the twisted ivory.

  'You've heard the latest from the Daish islands?' Fenal looked grim. 'These savages who took Chazen before the rains have killed Daish Kheda somehow.'

  That prompted a sharp intake of breath from Tagir. 'We'd not heard that.'

  Is that Janne spreading such a tale to spur other domains into coming to Sirket's aid, lest he be lost and their islands face the murderous savages next? Or is Ulla Safar encouraging the misapprehension, to save himself from suspicion of killing me? Or is Daish invaded?

  Kheda marked out another notched and pointed scale. 'But the fighting's still come no further north than the Daish islands?'

  If you can keep your hands steady, your voice won't betray you.

  'Not that anyone was saying,' shrugged Fenal.

  'And bad news flies faster than a honey bird with its tail on fire.' Paire looked to the others for reassuring nods of agreement.

  I wonder how many other warlords know just how much news travels outside their message birds, ciphers and coded beacons.

  'We can row fast enough to keep ahead of trouble,' said Tagir determinedly.

  Kheda blew a frail curl of ivory away from his blade.

  'We don't want to run from magic in the south just to fall foul of some barbarian wizard harrying the northern reaches.' He studied his carving, holding it up close to his face, not wanting anyone to see his eyes.

  Can I face asking the same questions, time and again? Hearing the same useless answers? Just where are all these wizards that everyone in the south says plague the north like sandflies round a rotting fish?

  'Our soothsayer'll be over the side if we see so much as a hint of magic,' joked Paire. 'The very notion terrifies him.'

  'I've heard nothing about magic in the north,' Fenal reassured him.

  'Take that for an omen, will you, soothsayer.' Tagir wasn't looking amused. 'Stop stirring us all up with your fears.'

  'What are you talking about?' Ialo appeared, taking a bench uninvited.

  'How there's no magic in these reaches, no matter what disaster's befallen the south,' Tagir said doggedly. 'And I'm not going as far north as Ikadi, just to be sure.'

  'You don't have to go to the northern reaches to fall foul of magic,' sneered Ialo.

  'You'd know all about that of course,' Paire scoffed.

  Kheda froze, head bent, narrow blade dug into the ivory.

  I knew you weren't listening, you foul-tempered windbag, when I tried to learn what you knew. You were too busy making sure everyone heard your poor opinion of my clumsy oar stroke.

  'I need some of that burn salve, soothsayer,' Ialo demanded.

  'How about you trade me some news for it?' Kheda withdrew his knife, careful not to mar his carving. 'What do you know about magic in these reaches?'

  'Shek Kul's domain, due east from here.' Ialo waved a spade-like hand vaguely. 'There were sorcerers running wild in his very compound, not three years since. Look, it's this hand. Stupid fool of a fisherman—'

  'Shark shit.' Paire shook his head emphatically. 'No magic comes this far down from the unbroken lands.'

  'There was something going on,' said Fenal apologetically. 'I was rowing in these waters around then. Kaeska that was Shek Kul's first wife, she was executed for suborning sorcery.'

  His words left everybody silenced, not just Kheda, halting in mid-search for another husk full of his salve in his bag.

  Paire licked nervous lips. 'Why did she do that?'

 
'People said it was something to do with her being barren.' Ialo smiled, pleased to be the centre of attention.

  'That much was certainly true,' nodded Fenal. 'She was known as such, all through these domains.'

  'There are ways around that without resorting to magic,' exclaimed Paire.

  'What did she do?' Kheda rubbed a fingerful of salve into a nasty rope burn raw across the back of Ialo's knuckles.

  'I never did hear the full story.' The big man looked chagrined.

  Everyone immediately looked at Fenal who rubbed a thoughtful hand over his close-cropped beard. 'I'm among friends, aren't I?' At their emphatic nods, he leaned forward. 'Shek Kul indulged the woman's quest for a child as long as he needed her ties with the Danak domain to keep Shek waters secure. Then her brother, Danak Mir, was killed, so Shek Kul and his second wife busied themselves with getting an heir for the domain at long last. Kaeska that was Shek summoned some wizard, to kill Mahli Shek and her newborn child with her.'

  'She must have been mad.' Tagir shuddered with revulsion.

  'Shek Kul did kill her, didn't he, her and the wizard as well?' demanded Paire urgently.

  'Oh yes,' said Fenal with conviction. 'Kaeska was pressed to death, every hand in the domain turned against her.'

  'A fitting death for someone who'd use magic for their own ends,' Tagir declared.

  'What about the wizard?' Hope and fear tightened abruptly in Kheda's chest like a physical pain.

  Is this what the condemned Kaeska felt, stone upon stone piled on her pinioned body, crushing the life out of her as she laboured for breath?

  'He was killed in a sword fight.' Fenal frowned. 'Or some such.'

  But how? Who can tell me that?

  Kheda returned intent to his carving.

  'Skinned alive, that's the right ritual,' objected Ialo. 'Isn't it, soothsayer?'

  'Flayed, certainly, so that the skin can be turned inside out, to turn any evil that has been touching the domain back on itself. And the blood falls as purification, obviously' Looking up he saw the others staring at him with appalled fascination. 'That's what my father told me, anyway.' He smiled awkwardly. 'I imagine there are other rituals.'

  The wizard would have to be alive, for the blood to flow. How would you go about skinning a man who was still alive? You'd have to drug him, surely?

  'Whatever Shek Kul did, it must have worked,' Paire commented. 'The Shek domain's not suffered.'

  'Most powerful in these reaches,' Tagir agreed.

  'No mean feat,' concurred Fenal. 'Not hereabouts.'

  Kheda looked for Ialo to argue the point but the big man nodded reluctant agreement. 'His ships are always well spoken of, though you'd be lucky to get an oar aboard any of them,' he complained. 'Once a man gets one, he rarely sees reason to give it up.'

  'Who are the biggest lords hereabouts?' Kheda asked casually, smoothing the white ivory with the back of his narrow blade.

  'After Shek Kul?' Fenal jerked his head northwards. 'Kaasik Rai's nearly as powerful, holds a domain centred on the biggest isle in these reaches. They're closely tied. Mahli Shek that is first wife now, she was born Kaasik.'

  'Danak domain covers more seaways than Kaasik,' Ialo interrupted. 'And their isles are better placed for trade.

  'We're not going that way, are we, soothsayer?' Tagir looked at Kheda, concern creasing his brow. 'I hear too many galley losses are blamed on storms thereabouts.'

  'Storms no one else catches sight of,' agreed Paire, serious. 'And Danak's main trade is zamorin.'

  'That rumour sloshes round the bilges of every ship I've ever rowed.' Ialo laughed derisively. 'No one's ever actually met anyone it really happened to.'

  'Because Danak triremes carry them off, cut them off and trade the ones who don't die of the shock out into the windward reaches,' retorted Tagir.

  'Cadirn!' Bee appeared at the foot of the ladder down to the rowing deck and waved.

  'There you go, Ialo, you get to take your ease while I'm set to work.' Kheda put away his carving in his bag, slung it on his hammock hook over his bench, and walked briskly to climb the ladder to the open air above.

  Godine waved to him from the stern platform. 'The rain's passed,' he said somewhat unnecessarily as Kheda climbed the steps. 'But I didn't think we'd see clear sky again today. Is that some portent? Cadirn? You look very serious. Is it some omen?'

  Up on deck, Kheda saw the sun shining in an unclouded reach of the sky, turning the clouds directly above the Springing Fish a curious yellowy grey. Away from the sun, the clouds darkened and, as Kheda looked, a single sheet of lightning flashed across the sky.

  Undoubtedly an omen but what does it mean, and for whom? What does it mean for you, now you've just heard the first hint of magic in your search, the first suggestion of a domain where you might find the lore you are looking for.

  'It would indicate a new course for someone,' Kheda said slowly. 'It'll take some time to discern for whom, and heading where. I'll need to see the birds fly to their roosts. Peace among them will mean it's a favourable omen; quarrelling's more problematic, depending on which birds are involved. The winds will signify different things, if they're veering and backing, depending on how they move the trees, and which trees and whether they carry any sweetness or taint of fire or decay. The sequence of scents might be important as well. The cloudscapes will have a bearing on how everything fits together, especially the colour of the sky around the sinking sun.'

  'I had no notion it was all so complex.' At something of a loss, Godine rose and gestured to his seat. 'Take all the time you need. Let me know when you can see it all clearly.'

  Kheda sat and stared out across the sea towards the sun riding unexpectedly bright in a tumbled mass of cloud and imparting a curious yellow quality to the light. 'Are you thinking of sailing east, Master Godine?'

  Since there's no chance of me finding another ship going that way, not given what Bee said on the beach.

  'No,' Godine replied slowly. 'North to Bir waters and then home to Ikadi. Why, do you see reason for me to sail east? It's out of our way and there are risks aplenty even skirting the Danak domain. It's not as if I deal in zamorin.' Distaste thickened his voice.

  Did you come close to losing your manhood? Was it something you were threatened with? Most zamorm are cut as little boys and by far the greatest number are barbarian born. Can I overcome your reluctance with lies about what I read in the heavens, just so you can carry me closer to the answers I am seeking? Shall I put everyone aboard this ship in danger of losing their stones, just to suit my convenience?

  That he could even consider such a thing left Kheda almost choking on self-loathing. He coughed. 'I see no reason why you shouldn't take the course you're planning.'

  'Are you sure?' Faint apprehension clouded the shipmaster's barbarian eyes. 'You don't sound entirely certain.'

  Kheda took a deep breath. 'Leave me to consider it a while longer.'

  'Very well,' said Godine. He looked as if he'd have said more but, changing his mind, he took the steps to the main deck in two quick jumps, waving to summon Bee. 'I need to talk to you about those sharpnuts!'

  Kheda sat alone on the deserted stern platform, staring unseeing over the water.

  What is there to consider? You have finally got some hint of the lore you've been seeking. If you're to be true to everyone you've left behind, if you're not going to forswear yourself and deceive Godine with lies and false portents, you have to leave this ship, this life behind.

  Can you do that? Can you face any greater test these days than sharing an oar with Ialo, tending the scrapes and bruises of the rowing deck, winning pathetic trinkets off Pane and Tagir with wagers over how far the galley will travel in a long day's pull? Can you do that? You've left Daish Kheda and his certainty so very far behind. Do you want to do that? Wouldn't it be so much easier to watt and see if Ikadi waters might have some lore you could use, if not just staying aboard till the next landfall, and the next?

  If you do leave this
ship, what possible resources can you call on to carry you over to the Shek domain, when you don't even know the main seaways, let alone the lie of the islands between them? Apart from a single golden bell, you've nothing worth trading for more than a cup of water from someone who pities you.

  Kheda got abruptly to his feet and went below decks to collect his bag from the hook where his hammock hung. Paire, Tagir and the others looked curiously at him but no one asked him any question. He returned to the stern platform and spread out his paltry belongings: the seashells brought all the way from Ulla sands, wooden bowl with a crack in the rim, the spare horn spoon he'd won off Paire, a string of polished ironwood beads that Tagir had given him in return for assurances about the health of his distant family. He fingered the edge of the quilt, where he'd torn strips of the cotton binding to wrap red and swollen hands in those first endless, aching days at the oar. The bedding was even more stained than when he'd stolen it.

  You're a thief regardless, aren't you? The Lesser Moon, the Pearl, is at dark now. All that you were as Daish is gone, hidden. And now you have the choice of a new course. What is it to be? How are you to reach Shek waters? Is this the choice before you: concoct a false augury or steal the means to buy your passage across to the Shek domain? Another nice question of ethics for debate between warlords who've never known what it is to lack anything that they might need or desire.

  Kheda wrapped everything up and shoved it back in the carry sack. Everything except the spiral of sea ivory, gilded by the strange light. Taking up the fine blade, he studied it for a moment and then began carving. The scales were nearly done. If he kept at it, he should be able to finish the grooved and fluted tip by the time darkness fell.

  Is that an omen in itself? Does it matter? Let's see what

  the dusk brings by way of guidance. After that, one may or another, you're done reading the omens aboard this ship.

  He began to work carefully, steadily, and the day slid away unnoticed.

  'All right there, soothsayer?' Bee came to light the lantern hung high on the sternpost and Kheda realised his head was aching from the strain of concentration and the knowledge of what he must do now plain before him.