by Jo Spurrier
Sukaro clapped his hands together. ‘Excellent news, commander. You have my gratitude. We’ll be ready to depart at your call.’
Tanric nodded, turning to Rhia and reaching inside his coat. At her shoulder, Rhia felt Brekya bristle. Had she cast a shield? All three of Makaio’s agents were mages.
Tanric produced a letter, sealed with a dab of wax. Still, Brekya did not relax until Tanric came close enough to press it into Rhia’s hand. ‘Miss Rhia, this came for you.’
Her name was written on the front in a familiar scrawl. She broke the seal and unfolded the letter with shaking hands, her eyes suddenly blurring with tears. Cam was her oldest friend, the one who had convinced her the world was not a hateful place populated by predators and the weak who were their prey. He was alive, he was nearby, he knew she was coming … and he’d take her home again, home to the life she’d made for herself.
Eyes swimming, she could make out nothing but the last line above where he’d signed his name, not the one his mother had given him but the one she knew him by, those three simple letters. It read, see you soon.
Cam leant over the table, scowling down at the maps spread over the scarred wood. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Somehow we have to get these folk across the fens, which will be frozen for a few months yet, so we have some time … but once we get there, it will still be the tail of winter, and we won’t have tents or stoves fit for the snow, or sleds to haul our gear and supplies.
‘Otherwise, we wait until the seasons turn … only then everyone’ll be slogging through mud and snowmelt, carrying their gear instead of hauling it. Except by that point there won’t be much to carry, as we’ll have eaten through the supplies.
‘Either way, we’ll have to fight through the Akharians, who will be bedded in with ample defences and plenty of notice that we’re coming.’
‘I can deal with the Akharians,’ Sierra said.
‘I know, Sirri, but there’s only one of you, and still a lot of them.’
‘We need to find another way,’ Isidro said.
‘What other way?’ Cam growled, still glaring at the maps. ‘Negotiate? It could take years. I know they’re hurting from the loss of their harvest, but Akhara’s a big place, and they’ve got wealth enough to buy food from elsewhere. If they drag this out into summer, we’ll have gone from owning their richest land to starving in it. You know they’d rather destroy us than let us go home.’
‘If they try that, we’ll just head south,’ Sierra said, lounging in a chair with one foot on the battered table. ‘I’d wager they know it, too.’
‘It’d keep us from starving,’ Cam said, ‘but it’ll take us away from home. I don’t want to spend the next year roaming around this cursed continent while the Slavers dig in deeper in the north. We need to bring our folk home.’
‘We need to make contact with the Akharian leadership,’ Isidro said. ‘We want the north, they want us gone from their lands. Perhaps they can buy their way out of famine, for a time … but the war in Ricalan cost them dearly, and they’re feeling the bite of all we’ve done here. We can force them to parley.’
There was a noise from the next chamber and Cam turned towards it as a young lad stepped through the entrance and ducked his head in a bow. ‘Sir, the woman you sent for has arrived. She’s at the perimeter with Commander Tanric and the other prisoners, sir.’
‘The woman …?’ For a moment Cam was mystified. What woman had he sent for? Then, with a shock like one of Sierra’s bolts, he realised who the lad was talking about. He glanced around to Isidro, who was already rising to his feet. ‘You mean … Rhia?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Bring them here,’ Cam said. ‘Send a runner to tell Madame Delphine, as well.’
The lad bowed again. ‘Yessir,’ he said, and scrambled away.
Sierra exhaled in a rush of breath. ‘Are you sure it’s truly her?’
‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ Isidro murmured.
Cam nodded. ‘I think it is. The handwriting was hers, the turn of phrase, too. Tanric separated her from the others to write the message, so if she was under duress she could have told us … but the Gods only know what’s happened since we left. If the Akharians got hold of her, somehow … but as Issey says, we’ll soon know.’
‘Let’s go meet them,’ Isidro said, snagging his coat off the back of his chair.
Now that they owned the eastern edge of the empire, Cam’s army had broken into smaller chunks to forage and loot. A smaller contingent still travelled with the king’s household, aiming for a larger village to the east where they meant to decide on a strategy for the coming days.
They met the escort at the edge of the village and Cam felt himself grinning as he spotted a slight, tawny-haired figure amid the cluster of mounted folk.
A hand fell on his shoulder, and Cam let Isidro draw him back. ‘There are mages among them,’ he murmured in Cam’s ear. ‘Stay close to Sirri, and let me look them over.’
He gritted his teeth in irritation, but Cam knew the sense in it — it wouldn’t be the first time the Akharians had sent assassins after him. He hooked his thumbs into his belt as Isidro went to meet the newcomers. ‘Is he shielded?’ he asked Sierra in an undertone.
‘Yes. I’ll back him up if need be,’ she replied in a murmur.
Tanric was at the head of the party, and Cam caught his eye and nodded in welcome. The three folk riding in the centre of the escort were all dark-skinned, except for the tawny-haired one he’d taken for Rhia. As the guards let Isidro through, she turned to him with a low cry, ‘Issey!’
‘Rhia? Fires Below, it truly is you!’
She flung herself down from the saddle, half laughing and half crying. ‘By all the Gods,’ she said in her accented Ricalani. ‘You’re alive! After everything we’d heard, I was afraid to hope!’
Cam started forward, but after half a step he felt the air around him grow as thick as treacle, and Sierra reached for his arm. ‘Stay back until we can see what the others will do,’ she said.
Suppressing a growl, Cam obeyed, and already Isidro was steering Rhia towards him. ‘No devices on her,’ he said to Sierra. ‘The others have a hoard of them, though, and they’re powerful mages to boot.’
As soon as she was within reach Cam threw his arms around Rhia. ‘Rhia, it’s good to see you! But what in the Fires Below are you doing here? Do you have word of Mira and the others?’
‘She’s well, they all are, Ardamon and the others. These folk are our allies, Cam. They’re Tomoans who gave us shelter after the Wolf Clan and Akharians hunted us out of Ricalan. Mira’s a guest of their king. She’s on a ship with his nephew, Prince Makaio, in the southern ocean. But that’s not all I have to tell you, Cam — you have a son. Mira delivered the little lad … oh, must be near two months ago now. He was strong and hale when I left them, and Mira, too.’
For a moment Cam was speechless. ‘I … what? How? She … no, it can’t have been that long … can it?’
At his side, Isidro was scanning the village street, and his gaze settled on someone approaching. ‘Long enough,’ he said, ‘especially if she was a little ahead of Delphine. Haven’t the midwives said her time is due soon?’
Cam looked up to see Delphine heading towards them. Rhia followed his gaze and her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Oh …’ she said, and then, ‘Oh!’ She turned to Isidro then, one eyebrow raised, and cut a glance at Sierra.
Cam felt rooted to the spot. A son. Dear gods …
He’d known Mira hoped to have his child. The idea always made him smile — back in those days it had seemed certain he and Isidro had no more than a few years left before Severian’s men caught up with them, and it had given him comfort to think part of him would live on. Last winter, when the bonds between them grew deeper and Sierra’s power offered a hope he’d never dared feel before, he’d started to imagine what it would be like to live with the woman he loved, to have a real home, a family at last. Cam had vowed to be a father to Delphine’s little
one if Isidro couldn’t … and though Isidro had healed a great deal, he wasn’t yet back to his old self. Still, he’d had months and months to think on that matter as he watched Delphine’s belly grow vast and round. Mira had gone through that same journey without him … the guilt hit him like a punch to the gut.
Rhia lay a hand on his arm. ‘Cam, all is well, I swear it. Mira has sent letters for you — for all of you. You’ll see her and the babe soon. Prince Makaio truly means to help.’
‘Help?’ Sierra said, her eyes hard and cold. ‘Why would he help us? What’s in it for him? From what I know of the world, if it sounds too good to be true it probably is.’
‘Mm,’ Isidro murmured. ‘But if they have Mira and the others, we’ll play along until we get them back. Let’s find out what they want in return.’
Cam shook himself. ‘I want to hear everything, Rhia, but first, introduce me to your companions. Let’s hear what they have to say.’
He looked past her to the strangers, now dismounted and waiting patiently. The one Cam took for the leader was very tall, easily as tall as Isidro, with a scatter of silver at his temples.
As Cam started forward, the man made an elegant bow. ‘Do I have the honour of addressing Prince Cammarian of Ricalan?’
Cam caught himself short of a scowl. After all these years, the title seemed more a slur than an honour. But he was still the heir to Ricalan, whatever state the kingdom was currently in. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘that’s me.’
‘Your grace, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Sukaro Galestril, and my master, Prince Makaio Jemacar Trestrail, beloved nephew of His Excellency, King of Tomoa, has sent me as his emissary. It is my master’s most earnest wish to reunite you with Lady Mirasada and your son, and, should you wish his assistance, to offer his service in the matter of returning your brave folk to your homeland and reclaiming Ricalan from the empire.’
For the second time in what felt like as many minutes, Cam felt like he’d taken a punch to the gut. ‘You … your master means to help us get home? How? Why?’
Sukaro made another small bow. ‘Forgive me, your grace, I am only a servant and cannot speak to my master’s plans. But I am instructed to tell you that he offers his services as mediator with the Akharians to find terms for a mutual, peaceful withdrawal and transfer from occupied lands. He also wishes to see you reunited with your kin as soon as it can be arranged. I have a letter from the prince outlining his proposal.’ At that, Sukaro reached into his coat to produce a document case set with polished stones. Cam felt Isidro go tense as the emissary opened it with a touch and withdrew a bundle of papers, sealed with a green cord and a splash of emerald-coloured wax. He offered it to Cam with a bow, and made no other expression as Sierra took it from his hands.
‘I must also inform you, your grace,’ Sukaro went on, ‘that my assistants and I are all mages of some skill. Should you wish to make contact with the prince, or send a message to Lady Mirasada and her companions, we are at your service.’
Cam stared at the missive, and the bold hand with which His Grace, Prince Cammarian Angessovar of Ricalan had been scrawled across the front of the sheaf of papers. ‘My thanks, emissary. I shall read this with interest. Now, I’m sure you understand we have much to discuss …’
‘Of course, your grace. If there is any service I can provide, I will be honoured to attend on you whenever you wish.’
‘Thank you. Commander Tanric, please find accommodation for our guests. If there is anything you require, emissary, inform the commander and it will be provided.’
With the thick, creamy pages of the prince’s missive clutched in one suddenly sweating hand, Cam turned away and started back to his cottage with his head spinning and his feet quite numb. A son, he thought to himself. I have a son …
Once inside, Rhia insisted on hearing the tale of Isidro’s missing arm, and he saw nothing for it but to strip off so she could see the damage for herself.
She examined the stump minutely, squeezing to feel the short remnants of bones and pressing on the scar with a force that made him wince.
‘Who did this?’ she asked.
He didn’t want to answer. He knew it would bring a fresh flurry of questions, about matters he didn’t want to go into and scarce remembered, in any case. But it would have been a poor measure of their friendship to refuse. ‘Rasten.’
Rhia looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘He knew what he was doing. He filed the cut ends smooth, I can feel it.’
Isidro shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know.’
She pressed on the scars again, and it hurt enough that Isidro pulled away with a muttered curse. ‘A pity he didn’t show as much care in letting it heal,’ she said.
‘He was gone by then,’ Isidro said, ‘but it’s healed cleanly.’
‘The scar has grown into the flesh beneath. I’ll make you some salve to rub in three times a day, and try to tear it loose. Then it will not be so tender. Now,’ she said, ‘let me look at those cuts.’
She was silent as she examined the wide purple scars, running cold fingers over his skin. ‘Did Rasten see to these as well?’
‘No. That was Sirri.’ He remembered the tug of the thread through his skin, and Rasten’s silhouette as he slumped on filthy blankets on the other side of the fire.
‘Ah. They do not show the same skill, but they have healed well enough. The hand … I know you never wanted this, but you truly are better off. Just don’t ever get scurvy; these wounds will likely kill you if you do.’
He reached for his shirt again. ‘Have no fear of that. We of the north aren’t prone to it, and once I get home again I don’t have any mind to leave.’
Rhia frowned. ‘It is rare in Ricalan … but here I’ve seen northerners with the signs. Perhaps it’s not the northerners who have resistance, but that the north itself imparts some defence …’ she broke off with a shrug. ‘But greater healers than me have tried and failed to discover a cure.’ With that, she took his face in her hands. She peeled back his eyelids and his lips to check the colour of the skin beneath, probed cold fingers under his jaw, and smelled his breath before leaning back again. ‘You lost a great deal of blood, Issey.’
‘So I’m told,’ he said, reaching for his shirt.
‘How do you feel? Are you tired easily? Short of breath? Dizzy if you rise too quickly? Do you find yourself slow-witted and confused?’
Not any more, Bright Sun be thanked, Isidro thought. ‘I’m fine. Now.’
She leant back to frown up at him. ‘You are very pale, still. Look —’ she took his hand and peered at his fingernails. ‘See how white they are? And your heart is beating fast, too.’ She studied him, scowling, until at last she threw up her hands with a sigh. ‘I don’t understand. You should not be so strong and alert … and yet here you sit, talking to me like nothing happened. But I suppose it does not matter whether I understand. You’re whole and well, that’s what counts.’
She looked utterly despondent. He knew the value she placed on knowledge — after everything Rhia had lost in her life, all she’d endured to survive, her knowledge and her craft had become her comfort and the core of her identity. He knew just what that felt like.
‘It’s mage-craft, Rhia,’ he said. ‘For a long time I was witless as a new babe, but then … something happened when I was travelling west with Kell, and power filled in the gaps, in a way.’
She considered his words carefully, but in the end she shook her head. ‘I still don’t understand.’
‘No,’ he said with a sigh. ‘No more do I. But at least now you know why you don’t understand.’
She smiled at that, tossing back her tawny curls. ‘True. That is something, I suppose. Very well, Isidro, just make sure you eat well … rich food with variety, not just meat and bread. Your body still has much strength to restore, along with the blood you lost.’
As long as he had power to feed him, he’d manage. Isidro just nodded.
Rhia leant back, eyes roving over him wi
th an assessing gaze. He didn’t like the way it made him feel — examined, like an interesting and unusual specimen. ‘What?’ he said.
‘How are you feeling, Isidro?’
‘I told you,’ he said. ‘I’m fine.’
Rhia shook her head. ‘In spirit, I mean, not in body. You seem to me … very brittle, and low. Not the same as you were in Demon’s Spire, but close.’
He could feel the muscles of his neck and back growing tense. He wanted to roll his shoulders to ease them, but he knew she’d understand what he was doing. ‘Rhia —’
‘You’ve travelled a hard road since last winter. You could think of nothing but survival, and you have had no time to heal. You must be exhausted.’
He clenched his teeth. ‘The wounds have knit, Rhia. You saw it for yourself.’
‘You know I’m not speaking of physical wounds.’ She cocked her head to one side, still watching him. ‘You have suffered a great deal.’
‘Does no good to dwell on it,’ Isidro muttered.
‘But you cannot just ignore it, either. Is Delphine still helping you keep your feet?’
His power was starting to rise in response to his tension, twining around his spine like a strangling vine. He took a deep breath and tried to force it down. ‘No,’ he said.
‘It must have been a shock, to find her bearing your child. I know I was surprised. But it was an accident. I gave her the women’s herbs, but then she fled with Cam.’
‘I know. They told me the tale.’
‘And how do you feel about the child?’
He wanted to pace, but he forced himself to stay still as the power within him climbed higher. ‘By the Black Sun, Rhia, how do you think I feel? I was Kell’s cursed prisoner through the summer and since then I’ve been as witless as a babe myself. And now we’ve got no way home and another wretched war to fight when we get there, and the midwives say the baby could come in weeks. Cam’s been here for Delphine, though. He’s more a father to that babe than I am.’
‘He stepped in when you could not, and you’d do the same for him.’
