by Emma Miles
The Raven Tower
Emma Miles
Part one of Fire-Walker
Copyright Emma Miles 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without written permission from the copyright holder, with the exception of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction and is not based on any real persons (contrary to the concerns of my colleagues whenever I sit in the mess-room with my laptop) living or dead.
Cover by Sarah Anderson
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter One
Kesta: Kingdom of Elden
Her father gave a shout of protest as a hand shoved her in the back; she fell forward onto her hands and knees hitting the ground so hard her teeth clacked together. Kesta breathed out sharply, feeling her heart pound and her muscles tense. Her hair fell forward over her face in wet tails and peering carefully from under her lashes she made a quick scan of the room. There were four other guardsmen beside the two who had dragged them in so rudely. The floor was covered in red tiles, cold beneath her fingertips. If she tilted her head up slightly she could just make out the figure on the bronze throne through the strands of her black hair. The Elden’s king was younger than she’d expected; his hair was sandy, almost red, and grew down below his shoulders. Her eyes widened, and she froze when she saw the man seated beside the king. There was no mistaking who he was, even on the Fulmer Isles his name was whispered in dread. The Dark Man. It was said that a storm had washed him up at the towers to the north of Elden …
‘If this is how Elden treats its guests, your majesty, it’s no wonder the Fulmars refuse to treat with you!’
Her father stood and shoved away the guard who tried to stop him.
‘Randle!’ King Bractius warned the guard and waved him back with a hand. ‘And you are …?’
‘Arrus, Silene of Fulmar and husband to the Icante.’
There was a gasp from the guards and Bractius leant forward, looking her father up and down. The Dark Man didn’t even blink. His pale blue eyes reminded Kesta of river ice on a sunny day. His hair was just long enough to start to curl but his black beard was cut close to his chin. His skin wasn’t as dark as her own but didn’t have the paleness of a man of Elden. His trousers and jacket were perfectly tailored and the gold embroidery on his green shirt caught the torchlight. She called up her knowing as gently as she could and the emotions of the others in the room hit her. Her father’s anxiety overlaid by courage, the excitement and caution of the king. The Dark Man stiffened and turned from her father toward her. She withdrew her magic quickly, swallowing and biting her lower lip.
‘Lord Fulmer.’ Bractius got to his feet but a frown still marred his face. ‘It is a long time since we have had a delegation from your islands. We have had no warning of your visit and – no offense – man, but such a small party might be mistaken.’
‘I’m no imposter.’ Her father drew himself up and glanced at the Dark Man who leant forward to whisper to the king. Kesta narrowed her eyes.
Bractius’s face lit up in a wide and genuine grin and he held out his hand. ‘Be welcome; what on earth happened to you, man? Who is your companion?’
Arrus Silene took the king’s hand cautiously and then reached down to help her up. ‘This is my daughter, Kesta Silene.’
She stood as gracefully as she could and, pulling back her hair, looked the king in the eye. She pretended not to notice as he recoiled and hid her own expression with a curtsey. There was no ignoring the hiss from one of the guards though.
‘Fire-Walker!’
She had never been self-conscious of her appearance in her own beloved islands where walkers were held in high esteem; but she hadn’t anticipated the fear it had provoked since landing in Elden. Most islanders were olive skinned and dark haired but mismatched eyes like Kesta’s were a rarity. One eye was the colour of an emerald and the other as pale as a new leaf. They marked her as gifted with the magic of the Fulmars.
The king recovered quickly and forced his smile to remain. ‘Randle go and see to some refreshments for our guests. Come and sit, man, my lady; tell me why you’re here.’
The Dark Man got slowly to his feet, watching Kesta like a hawk watching a vole. Her eyes widened, and she looked from him to her father, realising that the sorcerer was the taller of the two. There was no denying that he was a striking man, but the relaxed muscles of his face gave away no emotion and his eyes were so cold. She shivered.
‘It is a … matter that might best be discussed privately.’ Arrus sat at one of the benches toward the side of the room and to Kesta’s surprise Bractius joined him. She seated herself at her father’s other side and noted that the Dark Man had gone back to sitting beside the throne.
Bractius didn’t hesitate and dismissed his guards at once. ‘Go on.’
‘As you know,’ Arrus began slowly with a glance at the Dark Man. ‘We have always been raided by warriors from the Borrows. Recently their attacks have become somewhat fiercer and more frequent and they’ve attempted to take more of our people captive. Some have tried to dig in and stay rather than just raid.’
Kesta forced herself to relax her muscles. Elden and the tiny Fulmar Islands had never been enemies; but they hadn’t been friends either. They were all well aware that had Elden had more warlike kings, the islands would have been conquered long ago. Fulmer was fiercely independent and guarded its heritage closely, turning down any offers of alliances or formal trade agreements.
‘If it were just the raiders, we would have dealt with it ourselves,’ Arrus went on.
‘Not just raiders, then?’ Bractius focused on Arrus so intently he barely blinked.
Arrus shook his head. ‘The last party had a Chemman sorcerer leading them.’
‘A Chemman!’ Bractius leapt up and looked over his shoulder at the Dark Man. It was widely whispered that the Dark Man was himself from Chem.
Arrus nodded as the doors were opened and the glowering Randle ushered in some servants. Bractius waved a hand for Arrus to stay quiet until all the food and the jugs of ale had been set out and the servants gone again.
‘A one off?’ King Bractius asked, narrowing his eyes at her father.
Arrus sat back down slowly, ignoring the food.
Kesta gave her father a chance to evade answering by standing to pour a cup of ale for the king and then for him. With only the slightest hesitation she poured another and took it to the Dark Man. She forced herself to meet his eyes and show no fear although she could hear the rush of her blood in her ears. Neither of them spoke, but he gave a slight nod of thanks.
Arrus sipped his ale and glanced at Kesta. ‘My wife, Dia, was able to help us defeat the sorcerer, but it was no easy task.’
‘The Icante?’
All of them turned to look at the Dark Man.
‘Yes, Lord,’ Arrus replied. ‘If the Borrows have allied with Chem instead of fighting them
like they do everyone else, then the Fulmers are doomed. We … I am not sure how many more sorcerers we could fight off alone.’
‘So, you have come here for help?’ Bractius looked her father up and down.
Arrus sagged. ‘I had to swallow a lot of pride to come here, trust me. We set out as soon as I had made up my mind; I didn’t trust a message and thought I could get here just as quickly myself. Then we were set on by thieves only two days across Elden, we must have looked like easy targets on foot and alone.’
‘Your daughter wasn’t hurt?’ Bractius looked at her in concern. She was hardly surprised he’d assumed the worst considering the sorry state of them.
‘She was not; nor I, except my pride. I hadn’t realised your country was so hostile.’
‘I am ashamed to admit we have our … difficulties. And my guards treated you like vagabonds when you got here.’ Arrus sighed. He glanced at the Dark Man. ‘I’m going to have to think about this. I won’t not help you, but I’m going to have to consider what steps to take and their consequences. You will accept my hospitality of course and stay here until we have something resolved? You will join me for dinner tonight?’
Kesta saw her father glance down at his soaking wet and muddy clothes. The muscles of his jaw moved. To save his pride, she spoke first.
‘Sire, we have only what you see us in. We would not wish to dishonour you by turning up to your table looking like this.’
Bractius stared at her for a moment and then shook himself. ‘Of course, my lady, we will recompense you for your poor reception in our kingdom.’
The king’s sorcerer had slipped away to a door and was speaking with someone outside. Moments later he let a middle-aged woman through.
‘Ah!’ Bractius beamed. ‘This is Rosa, one of my wife’s ladies-in-waiting, she will see to your comfort.’
The older woman smiled and curtseyed. ‘My Lord, my Lady, if you would follow me?’
‘Jorrun and I will see you soon.’ Bractius dismissed them.
***
‘What did you think?’ her father had come to her room wearing a heavy woollen robe as soon as they were left alone. She looked longingly at the hot bath that had been filled for her. She quickly picked up a small pastry and contented herself with trying to quell the pain of hunger from her belly. The small mug of ale had left her feeling a little light headed, and she tried not to show it.
‘I couldn’t use my knowing,’ she apologised. ‘The Dark Man sensed it straight away. I like Bractius but …’
‘But?’
She studied her father’s face, knowing that he wouldn’t like what she was going to say. ‘I like him, he is friendly and seems kind, but I fear he may also be weak. As we have seen ourselves, he allows brigands to roam his land. Is he strong enough to stand up to what we have seen coming from the Borrows? I’m not so sure. But … the Dark Man now, he is another matter. I felt it was he who controlled the throne room.’
Arrus nodded. ‘Sadly, that’s my surmise also. I wonder if Chem, or the Borrows even, would have tried to conquer Elden long ago if that sorcerer had not washed up on their shores. Jorrun did he call him? That sounds Chemmish. I wonder what he’ll demand for his aid.’
‘Are we going to have any choice but to pay it?’
Arrus looked at her thoughtfully. ‘If it were no more than that one sorcerer then I would have faith that you and your mother could keep us safe.’
‘You should have told Bractius of our walking.’
‘They have no magic here.’ He absently picked up a pastry. ‘You saw how they reacted when they saw what you are; not to mention the townsfolk we’ve passed. I’m not sure they’d trust what you and Dia have seen in the flames. I think we should keep your magic as secret as possible for now.’
Kesta recalled the images she’d seen in her fire walking and put her pastry down, all appetite gone.
‘Bractius trusts the Dark Man with his life and his kingdom,’ she said. ‘That much I sensed.’
‘Yet the Dark Man is hated and feared. I must admit he made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. Yet what can we do? If Elden will not help us, we will become another island of the Borrows and slaves to the necromancers of Chem.’ He chewed on his pastry and then without warning bent and kissed Kesta’s forehead. ‘I’m keeping you from food and warmth. Learn what you can at dinner and we’ll talk again in the morning.’
She waited until he left and then after cramming a pastry into her mouth she peeled off her still soaking wet clothes and sat with a splash in the bronze bath. She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sting of her blisters and the ache of her bruises. The journey to the city of Taurmaline had been a harsh one. Their sea crossing had been uneventful although fear for her mother’s wellbeing had kept her awake every night. The harbour of Burneton had been terrifying – not that she’d ever admit it. It contained more people than the whole of the main isle of Fulmer and she’d felt suffocated, disorientated, and totally overwhelmed. Then the thieves. There had been at least a dozen, Arrus had slain two with his sword and Kesta had disposed of four more with her magic. Terrified by her powers the rest had fled, although they had taken most of Kesta and her father’s supplies with them. The rest of their journey had been beyond miserable. As a fire-walker Kesta was unable to eat flesh and although her father had hunted for himself, there’d been little for her to survive on. They had asked for help several times but one look at Kesta’s mismatched eyes had slammed every door in their faces.
Realising that she was starting to veer towards self-pity she ducked her head down under the water and scrubbed at her hair. The sensation of being clean and warm again was beyond bliss. It was a few hours until evening, so she risked laying down on the soft bed and letting herself drift into sleep.
She awoke to soft knocking and Rosa opened the door and called, ‘My Lady?’
She got up quickly and beckoned Rosa in.
‘I’ve brought a few of my gowns that I think might suit you.’ Rosa backed into the room almost hidden by a mound of glimmering taffeta.
‘Your gowns?’
Rosa halted, and her face started to redden. ‘Your pardon, my lady, I didn’t mean to offend. I haven’t had time to have anything bought. I’m afraid they may be a bit short for you but should fit otherwis—’
‘I meant only that you are kind,’ Kesta said hastily. ‘I am grateful for anything you can lend me.’
Rosa smiled, but she fidgeted and avoided looking Kesta in the eye.
‘What would you suggest?’ Kesta asked.
‘Oh! Well; you have such beautiful eyes that I’d have said green, but your dark hair and skin would really suit red.’
Kesta turned sharply to look at her, thrown by the unexpected compliment. ‘Oh.’ She swallowed. ‘I think green will do; I most often wear green.’
‘What is Fulmar like?’ Rosa asked with genuine interest as she dropped the gowns on the bed and picked out the two green ones.
‘I live on the north side of the main island where the forest grows thick and the cliffs are high,’ Kesta said as she combed out her hair. She didn’t really feel like talking but this woman didn’t deserve rudeness. ‘We have a fortified holding that stands on a small peninsular on the cliff edge and nearly a hundred warriors. The islands are less cultivated than what I’ve seen of Elden, most of it’s left alone to be wild.’
‘I hear that there are dangerous animals there and that …’ The woman faltered, and her face reddened.
‘Walkers tame the animals?’ Kesta glanced at her and took one of the gowns. ‘Animals don’t harm us; we don’t harm animals.’
‘So, you really can control animals, Lady Silene?’ Rosa handed her one of the dresses.
‘It’s just Silene. Silene is my title, we put our titles after our names as they are what we are and not who we are.’
Rosa regarded her with wide eyes, her shoulders drawn in tight toward her body. Kesta sighed. A few days and this would be over, and she’d
be able to go home.
‘Thank you for the dress,’ she tried.
Rosa gave a shrug. ‘Would you like me to help you into it?’
What she really wanted was to be left alone and not have to deal with the court of Elden; but they needed Elden.
‘Yes, please.’ She tried to give a friendly smile, but it felt false even to her. She hesitated a moment and then called up her knowing. The emotions she felt from Rosa were the slight nausea of embarrassment and a tang of fear. As gently as though she were unpeeling a spider web one strand at a time she eased away the woman’s anxieties and sent her tendrils of warmth.
‘This is a lovely dress; did you make it?’ It was a simple robe with a long, full skirt and straight sleeves. It laced at the back and had a sensibly high neck line, but it wasn’t far off the right size, just a little short and loose about the waist.
‘No, Queen Ayline bought this one for me. It matches one of your …’ Rosa faltered and bit her lip but Kesta laughed and Rosa soon laughed nervously with her.
‘It would be a strange dress that matched both my eyes.’ Kesta squeezed the older woman’s arm reassuringly and then looked at the door, her heart sank.
‘Let me see how your father is doing and I’ll walk you both down.’
***
Kesta could hear the noise of the main hall long before she reached it and she instinctively clamped down tight on her knowing. A herald stood at the entrance and she could smell a boar roasting. Musicians were playing, and she heard the loud, rolling laughter of the king. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she turned to come face to face with the Dark Man. He looked down at her; his expression perfectly controlled and giving away nothing. Daringly she challenged him by calling back her knowing. She sensed at once the shift in his own power; it was almost as though the man before her was made of a cold wind. She’d never felt anything like it before. His gaze did not so much as flicker.
‘Lord Arrus, Silene of the Fulmer Islands, and his daughter; Kesta Silene.’
She turned quickly to take her father’s arm as he strode into the room. Her father was a bear of a man and his borrowed clothes stretched across his shoulders. He made his way confidently toward the high table and the king. Bractius stood to meet them and came around to clasp Arrus’ wrist like an equal. She wondered how much of that greeting was politics and how much the king’s own warm nature. She started when she realised that the Dark Man was standing right beside her. She tried to hide how unnerved she felt; even another fire-walker couldn’t do that. The slightest of smiles touched the corner of his mouth and she turned away clenching her jaw and fists.
