by Emma Miles
‘I …’ she found herself at a loss for words. How had she managed to lose herself in eyes that only moments before she could hardly bear to look at? Somehow, they were no longer cold. She realised that she was breathing faster and clenching her fists momentarily she looked away and slowed her lungs. ‘I mean ‘we’, we do not ‘master’ the Spirits but seek to work with them. We are close to the Earth, Wind, and Water but it was Fire that granted us the gift of Walking.’
He waited, but she shook her head.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t tell you more.’
He smiled, and he seemed to become a different person right before her eyes; but only for the briefest of moments before he stood and said formally, ‘That is only fair since I have also held much from you. Perhaps that will change one day; but not yet. I wish you luck tonight walking the flame. Oh, and tread carefully with Adrin.’
‘Adrin?’ She felt her cheeks and throat tighten as her blood rushed there.
‘The warrior you challenged. Good night.’ He left the room abruptly, and she remained staring at the door for some time after.
Shaking herself she went to the fireplace and adding a large log stirred it up into a strong blaze. She opened the parcel and an aromatic scent was released out into the room. There were dried petals and whole flowers, small amber beads of resin and seeds of varying size and shape. There was a sharp, almost citrus, tang to it that tingled her nostrils but was softened by the perfume of the flowers. She hadn’t asked Jorrun how much she should use.
‘Oh well.’ She grabbed out a handful and flung it into the fire. The fire sparked blue and green and scented smoke curled upward. She took in a deep breath of the pleasant aroma and then settled herself to look into the flame. She found her connection almost at once and gave the ritual thanks and greeting. Already the room around her had melted away and there was nothing but the elemental dance of light before her. She pushed at the point within her skull and behind her eyes and, falling into the flame, willed herself far across the sea. Sharp pain stabbed deep in to the centre of her skull, but she ignored it and pushed forward. She felt the flame give way and at once she was flowing away from herself. The pain increased and part of her registered that her body was struggling to draw breath but below her was land, a coast with sandy shores and … and what was that? Further inland on the high hills all was white! But below her there was movement and flickering torches. The fire pulled her down to it and she was on a wharf filled with a fleet of ships. It was night, but they were being loaded. Barrels and long boxes. Long boxes. Salt leaked from a gap in the planking of one leaving a tiny trail that the fire illuminated so that to her it was a ribbon of diamond. A door opened a crack and a young woman peeped out, only to for the door to fly open as a man grabbed her to pull her inside.
Then the fire threw her back, scorching her skin as it had not done for many years. She fell back onto the rug and unbearable pain seized her skull. So much for Jorrun’s incense! But already it was easing, and she pulled herself up, taking in slow, deep breathes.
‘Mistress?’ She opened her eyes to see Catya standing in the doorway. ‘Are you all right? I was just checking if you needed anything before I went to bed.’
All at once it hit Kesta. The fury behind those young eyes, the desire to hide, the tightly controlled denial of emotion. She realised she was staring and finding her voice said, ‘No, thank you, Catya. I see to myself for the most part so please don’t feel obliged to run after me. If I need something of you, I will ask.’
Catya bobbed her head and left at once, hiding behind her long hair.
Kesta rubbed at her temple though the headache had lost its intensity. She lay back gratefully on the soft pillow without bothering to undress. It had been many years before when she’d seen a young girl like Catya. She’d been a girl herself and learning the ways of a walker. As was her duty she’d been walking the flame to watch over the islands when she’d sighted raiders. She’d called the alarm, and the warriors were mobilised but against the advice of her mentor she’d gone back to watching; wanting to see if they were in time to stop the raiders. They weren’t, not for some. They’d hit a small settlement and smashed in the gate. As they slaughtered the men and women who fought, one Borrowmen punched a young girl to the ground and proceeded to rape her right in the middle of the fighting; the shock and brutality of it had sent Kesta reeling from the flame and left her shaking and crying herself sick. She’d refused to walk again for several weeks. The girl had been rescued, but too late. Two weeks later she’d thrown herself off the tall cliffs onto the rocks; but Kesta had never forgotten the overwhelming despair and fury she’d seen in the girl’s eyes and not dared to feel through her knowing.
Kesta got up and filled her glass with the remainder of the wine Jorrun had left the night before and drank it down quickly to drown the anxiety in her stomach. She threw some more of the incense onto the fire and its soothing scent enfolded her and before she knew it she was asleep. Images of the verdant forests of the Fulmers assailed her, and she kept going back to the small holding, seeing the raiders from above, seeing that arm swing toward the girl.
The door to her room opened, and she froze; where had she left her dagger? Jorrun stepped in dressed in shadow, his face a mask without life. He came straight to the bed and lifting the blanket got in. Kesta tried to protest but her voice was frozen; she tried to move, to get away, but her body wouldn’t respond. Panic flowed through her limbs like hot water as Jorrun straddled her and taking hold of the cloth of her shirt ripped it open.
Then the door opened and Jorrun stepped in. He was at the bed in an instant and with unnatural strength he grabbed the first Jorrun with both hands and flung him against the wall. A sword materialised in his hand and with a sigh he walked over to the fallen Jorrun and stabbed him through the chest. He walked back toward her and said, ‘Wake up, Kesta, I will be there in a minute.’
With a start she woke, sitting up and gasping for breath. The fire had all but gone out and the room was chilly. She looked quickly to the floor where the Jorrun had fallen and then chastised herself for her foolishness. She hadn’t had a nightmare like that in years! Jorrun had certainly been right about the vivid dreams.
She jumped when someone knocked softly on the door and her heart pounded as it slowly opened and Jorrun stepped in. At once she called up her knowing to feel if he was real, to check his intent but as always, she could read nothing from him. She swallowed, her muscles tightening.
He walked around to the far side of the table, keeping a distance between them, and sat in his accustomed place. ‘Is that what you think of me?’
For a moment she was confused, then she realised he must be able to see how frightened she was. ‘No! Of course not! Well … well, I suppose I did fear that possibility when I first was forced to marry you.’
Jorrun winced and looked down, leaving his eyes shadowed. ‘That’s understandable. You don’t know me and things in Elden are different from in the Fulmers. I’m sorry that I did not alleviate your fear sooner.’
She wasn’t sure why his apology unsettled her so much, but she got the impression that Jorrun was not someone who apologised often – or lightly. She quickly changed the subject. ‘What happened to Catya? Who hurt her?’
Jorrun rubbed at his neatly trimmed beard. ‘She was orphaned at just six years old. Her only relative was an uncle, a warrior here at Northold, she was sent to him, but he abused her. When I came here, I found out. I killed him and told everyone that I would not tolerate women at this hold being treated in such a way. I brought Catya into the fort and the women here take care of her as much as they can; but I think they are frightened of her because of what I did.’
‘I would have hoped that any of them would have done the same thing and gutted the man,’ Kesta said vehemently. ‘Rape carries a death sentence on the Fulmers – not that any man there would do such a thing.’
‘Your dream, that was something you saw?’
She drew up her legs
to hug her knees. ‘Yes. Hey! How do you know what I dreamt? How did you … how did you know to come here?’ She regarded him wide-eyed, her heart still racing.
‘I’m a walker too, Kesta,’ he said it so quietly that she thought she must have misheard him.
‘But men can’t be walkers,’ she said after a long silence.
‘I don’t walk fire, Kesta, I walk dreams.’
She stared at him. He walked dreams? There were stories, old stories told by grandmothers, of the magics of long ago. It was said that once even the people of Elden had magic but their magic had died even before the explorers who were her ancestors had come to the Fulmers. ‘There is a myth,’ she said slowly. ‘Of dream-weavers. People who could enter your dreams and change them. It was the magic of Elden. No one in Elden has magic anymore.’
‘No, not for a long time,’ he replied. ‘But the magic of Elden lives on in Chem – and in me.’
‘Your mixed blood,’ she said tentatively, wondering how much she could get from him, concerned she might offend him. ‘It is of Chem and Elden I am guessing, yet you say the people of both lands are pale skinned. Your blood, is it also of the Fulmers?’
He stood, and she flinched despite herself.
‘It is. You should sleep, Kesta, you have much to do tomorrow and I would hate to see you lose your challenge.’
She scowled at him and there it was again, the briefest of smiles that changed his face completely.
‘Good night, Kesta.’
‘No wait! I haven’t told you yet of what I saw when I walked. I got to Chem; I’m sure it was Chem, but the hills were all white.’
‘Snow. Yes, there would be snow still this time of year.’
‘They were loading ships. Barrels and long boxes of … I think they were salted bodies.’
Jorrun’s hands clenched into fists. ‘How many ships?’
‘At least ten, probably more. It was hard to count from where I was watching.’
‘Thank you, Kesta.’ He grabbed the door handle and left without another word.
Kesta lay back on the bed.
A dream-walker. A man with the blood of all nations.
***
Despite everything she did manage to sleep and awoke feeling groggy and heavy-bodied. Rosa was in the room, quietly tidying, and she opened two of the windows a crack. Kesta drew in a deep breath of the cold air; there was just a hint of frost.
‘Hello, Rosa.’ She yawned. Her muscles protested as she climbed out of bed.
‘Sorry to wake you.’ Rosa winced. ‘But some people have already started work again out in the ward and I didn’t think it would look good if we arrived late.’
‘No, you’re right.’ She grabbed for her trousers and tunic, tying her belt and dagger around her waist. ‘I’ll grab something to eat and then we’ll head out. Is Catya up?’
‘She is, and I told her to get on with her own breakfast.’
Kesta nodded and was about to tell Rosa about her eventful night but bit her tongue. As frustrating as Jorrun’s secrecy was, he and Bractius obviously had their reasons. She trusted Rosa and longed to discuss her thoughts with someone, but they weren’t her secrets to share. She did however think it a good idea to let her know what had happened to Catya.
‘It was obvious the girl has been mistreated in some way.’ Rosa sighed as they made their way down the tower stairs. ‘And I’ve seen both pity and indifference shown by the other women of the hold, but no sign of bullying or abuse. So, Thane Jorrun is a protector of women?’ She looked at Kesta to gauge her reaction.
‘Thane Jorrun is a frustratingly hard man to know.’
‘But you’re finally trying to know him.’
‘Finally?’ Kesta gave her a shove but her frown turned quickly into a grin. ‘Tell me, what do you know of his history? All we know on the Fulmers is that he was washed ashore by the sea as a baby and the late king made him his sorcerer.’
Rosa stopped on the stairs. ‘To be honest, I don’t know much more. I know he was fostered with Bractius in Eyre with, Jarl Ceren, away from the court for his younger years and the two have been close as brothers ever since. He was about thirteen when they came back to court and he was always a very serious boy; he never got into trouble and was always polite. Bractius on the other hand was trouble.’ Rosa smiled and shook her head. ‘The two of them were sent to serve as warriors on Mantu for a year when they turned sixteen and when they came back Bractius had grown up immensely.’
‘Mantu, that’s the island to the north of Elden?’
‘Yes. Little more than a harbour for the warrior and fishing fleets but of great strategic importance.’
Kesta thought of the ships being supplied in the harbour somewhere in Chem and shuddered. She drew in a deep breath and brought her mind back to the present. ‘Breakfast.’
She ate quickly and standing, put her arm around Catya’s shoulders to give her a brief hug. ‘Come on, ladies, let’s get to work.’
As Rosa had warned her, several people were already out working. A group of women were cutting back the long grass while some warriors, led by Tantony, were hacking at and uprooting some brambles. Adrin was also there before her and was lounging against a cart full of uprooted brambles with four other men. Kesta’s heart sank; it would have been better for her to have arrived here first. Adrin saw her and stood up straight but he held back as Tantony headed straight for her.
‘Good morning, Lady Kesta, Lady Rosa.’ He wiped his hands on his tunic. ‘Kurghan’s sons are out cutting trees, we thought we’d get on with clearing.’
‘So I see.’ Kesta nodded. ‘Have you seen Jorrun today?’
‘Very early, yes.’ Tantony looked worried. ‘He sent a message straight to the king. It said that …’ He glanced at Rosa. ‘That we are to expect a strong attack, but we don’t know where yet.’
‘That’s so. I might be able to determine where once they set out as long as I have a landmark to set them by.’
‘You can do that?’ Tantony asked in surprise.
‘Yes, as long as they have fire somewhere on the ships.’
‘And if they don’t?’
‘Then I am blind.’ Kesta winced. ‘In the meantime, we can be as prepared as we can be here.’
‘Yes indeed.’ Tantony led her back toward where he’d been working. ‘It’s good to be keeping everyone occupied, busy men are less trouble and there are only so many hours a day I can get them to practice with their weapons or stand guarding unthreatened walls. Are you happy for us to just carry on as we are?’
‘Yes, that’s fine. I, on the other hand, have a contest to lose.’
‘Lose?’ Both Tantony and Rosa asked at once.
Kesta ignored them and walked over to where Adrin waited for her with a warm smile. She felt, rather than saw, Catya following her so she turned to the girl and said, ‘Are you happy to help the other women with the clearing?’
Catya didn’t look happy, but she nodded, narrowing her eyes at Adrin before walking away.
‘My lady.’ Adrin gave a small bow.
‘I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long? The Thane and I were working late last night.’
Adrin glanced up at the tower and his smile slipped just a little. ‘Not at all. Would you like to choose your patch of ground?’
‘I thought I’d start at the east wall and work toward the Raven Tower.’
‘Very good.’ Adrin grinned. ‘I’ll work to your right. How wide a plot shall we clear?’
‘Three feet?’
‘Four!’ Adrin challenged.
Kesta held out her hand and Adrin shook it, squeezing only gently and holding it a little longer than was necessary. ‘Let’s get to it then.’
Kesta selected a scythe and a fork from the cart, checking that the former was sharp. Adrin did the same. Some of his hangers on picked up some tools. but they were more interested in watching than helping. They walked to the wall and one of the men lay down some rope to mark off where their two strips would start.
With a grin, Adrin began swinging his scythe at once although it was clear that he was not used to using such a tool. To his surprise Kesta leaned her scythe against the wall and walked the length of her strip to the tower. In all it wasn’t too bad, the grass was long with stalks as high as her shoulders. There were a few saplings that had taken root, large patches of nettles, and clumps of thistle. She decided to start with the saplings, putting all her weight onto the fork to loosen the roots as much as possible. At first, she felt self-conscious, aware of the warriors watching her, but she focused her knowing deep into the earth and away from the people and sank herself into her task.
Adrin had already cleared a considerable area by the time she’d taken out all the saplings and the largest of the shrubs. She began gathering up everything she’d uprooted and taking it to the cart. Rosa joined her, bringing her some water.
‘He thinks he is beating you,’ Rosa said. ‘They think you’re not even trying.’
‘He is beating me.’ Kesta sighed. ‘There was never any getting away from the fact that he is far stronger than I; but they’ll learn that I plan, and I think.’
Rosa smiled and nodded. ‘I’ll bring you both some food shortly. When do you think you’ll need a break?’
‘I think that might be cheating.’
‘No; as you say it’s planning, thinking, and using the assets that you have.’ Rosa’s smile became a grin.
