The Raven Tower

by Emma Miles

  ‘I’m not much of a diplomat, I’m afraid, Icante.’ Vilnue gave a shake of his head. ‘I don’t know much of your chieftains and strongholds.’

  ‘There are thirty-two chieftains on the islands.’ Dia told him. ‘That includes Arrus and Worvig who are Silene. And there are seventeen Walkers now that Kesta is gone. All are encouraged to speak what is in their heart. I will think tonight on what is said and make my plan by the morning. You are welcome to speak your mind also; here you will be considered a chieftain.’

  Vilnue was silent a while as he contemplated her words. ‘I thank you for including me in your council.’

  ‘It’s only prudent. You know your men and ships and what they can do better than we.’

  Several temporary camps had been set up around the stronghold by the warriors that had accompanied the chieftains of the islands. They eyed the Eldemen with a mixture of curiosity, disdain, and hostility. Dia couldn’t help but fear their reaction when they learnt that they’d taken their future Icante. Vilnue seemed to take the warriors reaction as expected and wasn’t offended or intimidated.

  ‘This is the main hall,’ she indicated with her hand, her eyes sweeping over the large open room, the firepit in the centre, the benches and tables that formed a large rectangle around it, and the curtained alcoves behind which the guesting chieftains had claimed beds. Many of them were seated at the long tables, talking, drinking, dicing, or listening to the bard who had set up in the corner. The bard was an older woman with steel in her dark hair but whose voice was strong and pure. Some of the chieftains stood but Arrus gestured for them to settle and wait. Dia continued through the hall and out of the wide door at the far end. There, a set of steps went up; they led to her own quarters and those of Pirelle, the twins, and of Worvig. She tried not to think of Kesta’s empty room. Instead she took the flight of steps beside them that led down and turned about to go under the great hall. Here was mostly storage but also the healer’s quarters and a few small rooms for guests. She stopped at one that had small horizontally slit windows high up near the ceiling, allowing in a shaft of light.

  ‘This is for you. Also, the room next to it which has three beds. There is a guest house outside the main building that will accommodate twenty comfortably, twenty-seven at the most.’ It could squeeze in more, but she wasn’t willing to accommodate more than thirty Eldemen within the stronghold. ‘Shaherra here will be your guide until the council. I’ll leave you to organise your men.’

  She didn’t wait for a reply but strode off at once with Pirelle, Arrus, and Heara. Shaherra remained behind with a wicked smile on her face and her hand on her dagger hilt.

  ‘Dia …’ Arrus touched her shoulder as they ascended the stairs, but she shrugged him away. She glanced back at Pirelle and Heara and the two women discreetly backed away; Pirelle to her room, Heara to stand guard outside the Icante’s door. As soon as she gained their private chambers, she slammed the door shut and shoved Arrus hard in the chest.

  ‘Why?’ she demanded, tears springing to her eyes and the word catching in her throat.

  Arrus stood dumb for a moment, swaying slightly, he blinked rapidly as his eyes watered. ‘To save us all. We cannot defend ourselves against Chem. What was I to do? To say no would be to allow all our people to die! Kesta understood. Our brave girl …’

  Dia shut down her knowing, unable to endure her husband’s pain. She slipped her arms around him and hugged him fiercely. ‘Our brave girl,’ she repeated. ‘If they hurt her, I will kill them all.’

  ‘If she leaves any of them standing.’ He laughed, although no smile touched his eyes. ‘So; what’s the plan?’

  Dia pulled away to look at him. ‘We have learnt much. Their dead men can be destroyed with fire. It seems their reason for attacking us is to capture those with walker blood and …’ she hesitated, bile rising in her throat. ‘Use them to produce children.’

  Arrus pulled away from her in shock, his face turning red.

  ‘We’ve killed another necromancer but there’s one remaining that I believe must be nearby. We’ve been trying to track him but so far, he has eluded us. Perhaps he fled by ship and is long gone … but my instinct screams at me that he is still near.’

  ‘Then he is near.’ Arrus nodded.

  ‘There’s something else. There was a demon, made of fire; it burnt the Chemman ship and drove all the creatures and one of the necromancers that led them to shore. He was weak and frightened when he crawled out the sea; I incapacitated him by exacerbating his fear and pain and Worvig cut him through the heart. The demon creature has not been seen since, but it helped us, of that I’m sure. I’ve been talking to the other Walkers about the old tales. Arrus; we think it may have been a fire-spirit.’

  ‘But none have seen a spirit for generations!’ He ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. ‘Not since before our ancestors settled on the islands.’

  ‘I know.’ Dia sat down heavily in a chair. ‘But I think it’s what we saw. At first, we all thought it was a demon of Chem sorcery; but then why would it help us? I’ve asked the fire over and over, but it doesn’t answer. I’m thinking of calling all the Walkers to join and walk the fire together.’

  ‘Such a thing has not happened in our lifetimes.’ Arrus frowned. ‘Is this one necromancer so dangerous?’

  ‘Yes!’ Dia said vehemently. His threat still made her skin crawl.

  ‘But you defeated the others.’

  ‘I think this one is stronger,’ she said slowly. ‘The first attack we faced from a Chemman seemed badly organised and they seemed ill prepared for our defence. This second one was a larger attack, with thought and cunning. If it weren’t for the fire-spirit, we would have been defeated here at Fulmer Hold.’

  Arrus made to protest but Dia raised her hand and shook her head. ‘Despite Kesta’s warning of what she saw we could never have prepared ourselves to face the horror of those dead men, and the one that made them is still somewhere out there. He could have hundreds more. He could make more.’

  ‘We have the Eldemen now,’ Arrus tried to reassure her. ‘And the fire-spirit might help us agai—’

  ‘We can’t count on that.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m going to write a letter to King Bractius and his sorcerer. In the mean time you should get changed and get ready for council.’

  ‘Don’t forget we need the king and his men.’ Arrus winced.

  ‘I won’t say anything that they don’t deserve.’ Dia narrowed her blue and brown eyes.

  ***

  The council hadn’t needed much encouragement to gather; they’d been waiting to do so for hours – some for days. Of the Walkers, only four were missing. Two from the furthest and smallest of the islands who didn’t wish to leave their homes unprotected, Siphenna; who was nearly ninety years old and did not travel far anymore. And Kesta.

  Food and mead had been served around the tables and Shaherra had cleared a space for Vilnue and his three chosen warriors to sit. Worvig had diplomatically placed himself beside the Merkis leaving Shaherra to stalk back to her place close to the Icante. Dia didn’t keep them waiting but took a sip of mead before standing. It took but a moment for the room to hush.

  ‘My people of the Fulmers, you know why we are here. This spring we have endured desperate attacks from the Borrows followed by two attacks led by Chemmen. We know now that their intent was not just to raid, but to conquer.’ A loud rumble of angry retorts erupted around the hall. This wasn’t new information, but their fury was far from subsiding. ‘We have discovered that necromancers are behind the attack. They have used their vile blood magic to raise dead men to fight against us; but we know they can be destroyed with fire. We know the necromancers can be killed by simple steel.’

  She nodded her head toward Worvig, letting the warrior take the credit for the kill. Worvig looked uncomfortable, but Arrus led the deafening cheer from warriors and walkers alike.

  ‘Only six days ago I received a chilling message from our enemy.’ She paused, strugg
ling to find a way to speak the dead head’s message out loud. ‘There is still a necromancer alive and free somewhere. He intends to attack. His plan is to steal Walkers to give him heirs with strong magical ability.’

  This was new information, and it was received with shock and outrage. Several of the Walkers visibly turned pale; Pirelle couldn’t look up to meet anyone’s eyes. Arrus leapt to his feet and banged his fists on the table, his voice silencing the room. ‘We will not let this happen! They will not take a single one of our Walkers or women!’

  Oh the irony. Dia kept her face frozen. She glanced at Merkis Vilnue; the Eldeman was observing the room and taking everything in silently. His men looked less comfortable.

  She raised a hand and slowly the room settled. ‘Our very own Silene, Kesta, has remained in Elden to work with the king and his sorcerer. In her place, King Bractius has generously sent us two war ships and five hundred men.’

  If Arrus’s raucous cheer was a little too forced and accompanied by a watering of his eyes, no one seemed to notice; no one but Dia and Merkis Vilnue who looked down at his hands.

  ‘Kesta has secured a trade deal with Elden that will help to protect our islands. Now, then.’ She paused, looking around at all of their faces. So much emotion. ‘We have a necromancer loose and threatening us. Our whales and birds have not found him. Our Walkers have not found him. Our trackers have not found him. But he is here; I know it. We have to assume there will be another attack. Tell me your thoughts.’

  At once several of the chieftains leapt to their feet. As Dia sat, Arrus remained standing and pointed to one of the chieftains. ‘Ufgard, what do you say?’

  Ufgard was the chieftain of Otter Hold on the north-west side of Fulmer Isle. He was in his late sixties and a veteran of both Borrow raids and raids against the Borrows. His hair had turned a dark, iron-grey, and his scars told his tale of hard-fought victories.

  ‘We should strike back! Hit the Borrows where they recruit their dead and burn their ships!’

  ‘The Elden King believes the Borrows may be conquered and under the rule of Chem,’ Arrus said. That brought the room to silence, but one woman stood. ‘Walker Tarlos.’

  Tarlos was of Eagle Hold in the south. Both of Tarlos’s eyes were brown, but one was like honey and the other dark as the earth.

  ‘You have asked the flame of course?’

  Dia nodded. ‘I’ve dared to let myself go in the flame in the hope I might be shown something or that the fire-spirit that helped us might make contact. I’ve had no success. I was going to suggest that we might all try to make a walk together.’

  ‘It is a thing not done in an age, but worth trying.’ Tarlos gazed at her thoughtfully. ‘We should make the walk at Otter Hold though, I think in this Siphenna’s experience will be invaluable.’

  ‘If another stays here to assist Pirelle, I will make that journey.’ Dia agreed. It was only a day’s walk across the forest paths to Otter Hold and would be worth the risk.

  None of the men chose to speak against it; this was walker business.

  ‘Now, then; we have two warships and many warriors at our disposal.’ Arrus indicated the Eldeman Merkis. ‘It would make sense to keep one close to here and have the other patrol near the smaller islands; but these are not traditional attacks and we also have this craven necromancer hiding out somewhere.’

  ‘We need to do a full search of all the islands!’ One of the men broke formality and called out.

  ‘Such a search would mean bringing men back in off the patrol ships,’ Worvig warned him.

  Merkis Vilnue stood slowly; a little unsure of his welcome.

  ‘Speak, Merkis.’ Arrus waved a hand toward him.

  ‘You may use some of my warriors in your searches; or if you prefer they could replace your warriors who come back off the boats.’

  ‘It might be better if our own warriors search the islands,’ Dia replied. ‘Only because they know the land better. I will consider placing some of your warriors on our longships.’

  There were some grumbles of disapproval, but Vilnue gave a smile and a nod and sat back down.

  ‘Walker Dinue.’ Arrus invited a small woman in the early months of pregnancy to speak.

  ‘Do we know how far these necromancers can extend their magic?’ she asked.

  ‘Unfortunately, not.’ Dia shook her head. ‘But I’ve written to the Elden King to ask for any information he has on Chem magic. Dinue, I recall that there was a Borrow boy, about twelve when he was left here injured on a failed raid of Dolphin Isle. Would you see if he knows anything of Chem magic?’

  ‘Of course; I’ll ask him.’

  ‘Does anyone else have any ideas or any updates?’

  The council went on until late in to the evening as the holds discussed ways of defending themselves. They exchanged news of food supplies, births, deaths, the strength and upkeep of each hold. Throughout, Dia observed the Elden warriors growing restless, while Vilnue watched and listened with patience and interest.

  ‘Tell your brother to stay close to Vilnue and make a friend of him if he can,’ Dia said quietly to Arrus while a loud chieftain was diverting attention to himself.

  ‘You don’t trust him?’

  Dia put her hand over her mouth to hide her words with the pretence of rubbing at a tired eye. ‘After what they demanded in return for their aid? No, I don’t trust any of them.’

  ***

  Dia spent a sleepless night gazing at the night sky through the crack in the shutters. The waves shushed over the rocks below the cliff, the wind barely stirring the trees. Beside her Arrus was still and his breathing almost silent, so she guessed he was also wakeful. Most of her anger at him had subsided; she couldn’t deny that he had had no choice in his decision. Would she have made the right choice? Could she have left Kesta in the hands of an Eldeman sorcerer? She didn’t think so; perhaps she was not as strong as her husband and daughter.

  ‘We’ll find him,’ Arrus said. ‘I think we need to ensure every walker has an escort of warriors with them until we do.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed, turning to put her arm around him. ‘And as much as I hate to take away anyone’s freedom we should advise all women not to leave their homes alone.’

  ‘Should we get all of those living in isolated houses to move to the strongholds?’ He took her hand in his larger, calloused one.

  ‘We should advise it; but not everyone will be in a position to leave their homes or livestock.’

  Arrus gave a low growl of frustration. ‘Even with the Elden warriors we don’t have enough people to man the ships, search the islands, and stand guard over all our people.’

  Dia took a long, slow breath in and out. ‘We will just have to do our best.’

  ***

  Fulmer Hold was as busy as a kicked ant’s nest when dawn came creeping along the coast. The chieftains and their warriors were packing up to return to their own holds, some on foot and some by sea. Dia chose Worvig and Pirelle to command the stronghold and Shaherra to keep an eye on things. Arrus, Heara, and Dorthai were to be her escort along with ten warriors and those of Otter Hold who were making their way home. All the Walkers except Pirelle and Dinue were to travel with them. Dia was painfully aware that she would be leaving the people of Fulmer Hold vastly outnumbered by Eldemen. If Elden was going to betray them, she was making it easy for them.

  Heara ghosted ahead as they took the path along the clifftop. The sea breeze had picked up and there was briny water in the air. Arrus walked ahead, talking with Chieftain Ufgard, leaving Dia to walk among the mostly silent Walkers. As they turned from the sea and followed the path into the dense forest, Heara appeared momentarily at Dia’s side to give her a nod and smile of reassurance, before quickly vanishing again. No Walker was afraid of the forest or the animals within, however Dia noticed a chill to the air as she stepped into the shadows and pulled her jacket more tightly around herself.

  ‘It’s because we can’t feel them,’ one of the Walkers said behind he
r.

  Dia turned to see a woman just a little younger than herself with rare red hair and lighter skin. Larissa of Argent Hold. Her grandfather was an Eldemen fisherman. The story went that her grandfather and grandmother met in their boats on the sea between their lands. They met every week to argue about who had the right to fish there; until one day the Eldeman climbed across into her boat and never went home.

  Dia nodded, glancing around at all the Walkers and realised they were as on edge as herself. ‘We should be able to sense this necromancer though.’

  ‘I wonder.’ Larissa’s mismatched blue eyes were troubled. ‘We do not know their powers.’

  Dia couldn’t deny it. There was no history of conflict between the Fulmers and Chem, being separated as they were by the Borrow Islands and flanked on the south-east by Elden. All they knew were second-hand stories from their few Borrow captives and from occasional trade with Eldemen. She’d certainly felt the fear and panic of the necromancer who had leapt into the sea and struggled to shore when the fire-spirit had torched his ship. She’d assumed he was their leader, their strongest; until the head. Larissa was right; this other man might be much stronger. They didn’t even know if he was alone.

  She took in a deep breath and drew herself up. ‘We know we can kill them,’ she said firmly. ‘That’s what matters.’

  Even so she couldn’t help feeling a vulnerability in the forest that she’d never experienced in her life, even before her fire-walking abilities had materialised. It still felt the same, the flicker of life that were birds, the darting tickle of squirrels and rodents; the deep thrumming of trees. It still sounded the same; the churr of insects, the rustling of leaves so similar to the sound of the sea, and the stirring birdsong. Even so there was a heaviness over Dia’s heart that wouldn’t lift and she found herself desperately missing her daughter’s fire.

  They stopped just after midday to rest and Heara came to sit with them.

  ‘I looked down on the Comfrey Farm from the ridge,’ she said softly for Dia’s ears only as she nibbled at some fish and flatbread. ‘I couldn’t see their animals and no sign of life.’