by Emma Miles
‘I was eight years old when I escaped from Chem. With me was a twelve-year-old boy called Osun who was the son of the woman my mother loved. Osun had no power despite the fact that his mother had been bred from a strong line of sorcerers. Most children born without power into a sorcerous clan are killed if they show no magical ability by puberty. Osun’s time had almost run out. It was only the fact that he was a useful slave that had bought him so much time from an impatient master. I, on the other hand, had shown power almost from birth. I was a triumph for the leaders of my coven and especially for my father. My mother.’ He glanced at Kesta. ‘My mother was the daughter of a captured woman of the Fulmers; a fire-walker.’
Kesta drew in a sharp breath, feeling her outrage rise; but she clamped her teeth together and let him speak.
‘I never knew my grandmother, she died in childbirth when my mother was eleven, but lived long enough to pass on some of her knowledge as a Walker to my mother – and her to me. My mother told me that all my grandmother’s skin was tattooed with runes using ink made from blood which prevented her actually using her power. My mother’s life was an unbearable one.’ He stopped, swallowing and taking in a few breaths before going on. ‘She was forced to have me so that my father could build a powerful coven. Her only consolation was the friendship and love she found with another slave; Matyla, Osun’s mother. My father discovered it and gave Matyla away to one of his family. Within a month she’d been beaten to death.’
Kesta looked away and swallowed, wrapping her arms about herself. When she looked up into his eyes again, Jorrun continued.
‘At eight years old a boy is taken away from the women to begin his training as a sorcerer or a warrior. Long before then he has obedience and blind loyalty to the clan brutalised into him. Unfortunately for my father, even without my mother’s influence, I could see the truth clearly and had … I had too much empathy for life to survive in Chem. My mother came up with a plan to save both myself and Osun. She gave her life to ensure that we got away, and that I had some protection.’
Kesta blinked rapidly against the pressure building behind her eyes and the sting in her nostrils. She folded her hands together in her lap and drew in a deep breath through her mouth. Jorrun went on without looking up.
‘We were at sea for some time with little in the way of supplies. It was only luck that steered us through the Borrows unseen. We were found by fishermen near Mantu and taken to the local Thane and from there to the king; Dregden. Only to he did Osun and I tell our full tale. The king decided our fate and as children in a strange land we had no choice but to obey. Osun was to train as a spy and return to Chem as a merchant. I … I was to become the king’s sorcerer.’
Tantony cleared his throat. ‘Why all the secrecy?’
Jorrun leant forwards and looked at him earnestly. ‘Because if my family had known that I lived and was in Elden they would have attacked long ago either to win me back or to ensure my death. Others of Chem would also have sought for me for an alliance against my family; or to make sure I never re-joined them. There are also people aplenty in Elden who would have gladly had me killed and needed little encouragement or reason. I needed time to gather information, to learn and strengthen my power.’
Kesta slowed her rapid breathing and drew herself up straight. She looked him in the eyes and asked, ‘Who are you Jorrun?’
‘I am the son of a slave. I am also the son of Dryn Dunham. I am supposedly the strongest sorcerer that Chem has bred.’
Tantony stood up. ‘You are Jorrun Dunham? As in the necromancers that rule Chem?’
‘I am.’
Kesta waved a hand toward the Merkis, her eyes not leaving Jorrun’s face. ‘Sit down, Tantony.’ Without her knowing it was like looking at a painting; yet there was still so much to read there. She’d once thought his pale eyes cold, but she could see now how hard he tried to hide behind them. The muscles of his face were relaxed and expressionless, but he hadn’t managed to fight the tension in his back and shoulders. Tantony sat down and Jorrun moved to a cabinet to take out a decanter. Tantony’s eyes didn’t leave his Thane’s hands as he brought over the brandy to pour a little into each of their tea. Kesta wondered if Tantony noticed that Jorrun’s hands were shaking.
‘So.’ Kesta breathed out. ‘You have an excellent understanding of our enemy and are powerful. How much of a chance does that give us?’
Only two rapid blinks and the widening of his eyes gave away Jorrun’s relief at her calm response. ‘Not much.’ He sat down heavily. ‘I am one against many.’
‘How many?’ Tantony reached for his tea.
‘Of truly strong sorcerers? Maybe thirty. But of those with some magical ability we are talking over a hundred.’
‘Hundred!’ Tantony spat tea across the table and Kesta jumped out of her seat in disgust.
Jorrun looked around, then spotting a cloth, grabbed it and handed it to Kesta. ‘But I’m not quite alone. We have allies that have long been unknown; allies that aid the Walkers although they do not know it.’ He turned toward the fireplace. ‘Azrael, come out please.’
The fire flared, and a flame seemed to lift from it and moved toward them. Kesta dropped the cloth and backed away. Tantony stood again, tipping back his chair. The flame shifted and curled, metamorphosing into a man-like form with an elongated neck and legs that melted into a long whip of a tail.
‘Demon!’ Tantony made a sign against evil.
‘Not a demon; Azrael is a fire-spirit.’
Kesta could barely breathe as the raven-sized creature stopped before her. She could feel its heat as from a normal flame. Fear made her skin cold; but she drew in a deeper breath to speak. ‘The Spirits have not had dealings with humans since long before my people came to the Fulmers.’
‘You have been dealing with them all your life,’ Jorrun replied. ‘Azra,’ he called gently, and the fire-man drew away from Kesta. ‘When you ask the flame to carry you to what you wish to see, it’s the fire-spirits who take you. When it’s important enough, they will take you from your chosen path to warn you of danger. It was a fire-spirit – or drake – who burnt the ship that came to conquer the Icante’s stronghold.’
The fire drake spat, hissed, and crackled but Kesta made out a word, a name; Doraquael.
‘Why are they helping us?’ Kesta asked.
‘Because of Necromancy. Blood magic goes against the order of nature and of the Spirits; it’s the magic of men.’
‘Can the Spirits kill the necromancers for us then?’
Jorrun shook his head and Kesta’s heart sank. ‘The Spirits are powerful but limited. There are ways to defeat them, ways to trap them. They are few in number and no drake has been born in many, many years. Their numbers have dwindled and some of the Dunham clan are powerful enough to kill them.’
‘You haven’t trapped Azrael, have you?’ She demanded, her hands clenching to fists.
Jorrun’s face broke into a smile and the fire drake brightened. ‘Kesssta!’ It seemed to laugh her name.
‘I haven’t trapped him,’ he reassured her. ‘He is my friend.’
‘That’s all right then.’ She managed to relax a little and studied the drake, aware that Tantony was waiting to take his cue from her response. Jorrun was also watching her avidly. ‘Can you spy on Chem?’
‘Yessss – and no,’ Azrael breathed.
‘The Spirits can be detected and warded against,’ Jorrun explained. ‘As I said they can also be trapped and killed. It’s as dangerous for them to spy as it is for Osun.’
‘Yet if what you say is true, they have helped me to do so.’
‘They will risk much to help a walker, especially one they like and whose intention they approve.’
‘Why?’
‘Your ancestors and the drakes have a friendship going back centuries although the tale is lost now in history.’ Jorrun looked around at Tantony. The Merkis was almost pressed against the wall, one hand on his sword, his eyes wide. He sighed and glanced at Kest
a before saying, ‘this has been a lot to take in. Tantony, I ask nothing more of you than you do for me already; other than you keep what you have seen and heard here to yourself. You need time to think; please feel free to go and we will talk later.’
‘Yes, Thane,’ he replied rather stiffly, but he hesitated to leave.
‘Kesta, I will visit you tonight if you will allow it? We need to start talking about magic.’
She folded her arms across her chest, not happy at being dismissed when she still had so many questions. Then she noticed that Jorrun was leaning on the table and remembered he was still recovering. ‘Tonight will be fine,’ she replied and turned to the drake. ‘I’ll speak with you again soon, I hope, Azrael.’
‘Assszra.’
She nodded. ‘It is nice to meet you Azra. Jorrun; rest!’
He rubbed at his face to hide his smile and Azrael pulsed brighter.
With a last glance at Jorrun, Kesta grabbed Tantony’s hand and pulled him toward the stairs. The old warrior didn’t speak until they’d left the tower and she’d closed the door behind her.
‘Well,’ he exhaled, looking at Kesta guardedly. She called her knowing and wasn’t surprised to find that the man was both wary of her and hoping at the same time that she was someone he could trust.
‘It sounds like we have a tough fight ahead,’ she said slowly. ‘We need to think about what we can best do to aid Jorrun and the king.’
‘Right.’ Tantony straightened up. ‘We’ve lost a portion of our warriors to defend the coast, but we should still attempt to finish your works as rapidly as possible and throw some more resources into it; a siege this far inland is not improbable. We’ll increase the warriors training time too.’
‘And the women’s.’
‘What?’
‘How many of your women can use a bow?’
‘Well, there will be a few I suppos—’
‘It should be all.’ Kesta slapped his arm and strode toward the keep. ‘If every woman and strong child can shoot a bow, then you more than double the defences of the keep.’
‘Well, that makes some sense but—’
‘And we should of course begin collecting stores of weapons and food. We should take a look at the woods too; plan out spots for traps and ambushes. Do you have look out posts for advance warning?’
‘Well, no; we would rely on messages sent by bird from the coast.’
‘Yes, well, I wouldn’t rely on that!’ Kesta raised an eyebrow. She chewed at the tip of her thumb. ‘The bridge over the river. It might be an idea to make that an outpost and have men there to protect it or destroy it if necessary. We might also want to plan some ways to stop enemy ships coming up the river to the lake if that isn’t something you have already. Nets that can be pulled up, fire archers, that kind of thing. We should think about it and meet up this afternoon. I need to see what Rosa and Catya are up to; I’ll see you later.’
Tantony halted as she strode away. He swore under his breath.
***
She found her two ladies working hard on the vegetable beds. Catya was digging furiously at the earth while Rosa carefully placed seeds and covered them up.
‘We should dig a small pond and get ourselves some geese or everything will be eaten by slugs and snails in no time,’ Kesta mused aloud.
‘Won’t the water just sink away here?’ Rosa asked.
‘We can pack it with clay and waxed cloth.’ Kesta knelt and took some seeds from Rosa.
‘How did it go with Jorrun?’ Rosa asked cautiously.
‘Well.’ Kesta stopped to regard her friend. ‘I can’t tell you any details.’
‘Because Ayline asked me to spy on you?’
‘No, because Jorrun asked me to tell no one.’
Rosa nodded. ‘Then I won’t ask more.’
‘Thank you.’
Some of the stronghold’s other women came and went, helping them with their work. Ricer and Kine finished the fencing and went out with their father to cut more trees for the barn. Kesta marked out the area for the duck pond and then went to find Tantony. He was drilling some of the warriors and she paused to watch him. He was encouraging to those who tried hard; but clouted one man round the back of the head with his training sword when he stopped paying attention. He jumped in often himself to liven up a fight that became too slow or too predictable. His knee hampered him, but he compensated well by forcing his opponents to come to him; he was faster and stronger than most and seemed to read every move before it happened. With a twinge of her chest muscles she realised how much his injury must have cost this warrior and the patience he must have to live with his fate.
He spotted her, and his shoulders sagged as he stepped away from his men. She regretted more than ever the way she’d spoken to him in the past.
‘Tantony.’ She smiled and pushed as much warmth toward him as she could. ‘I’ve interrupted you at a bad time, I can come back later.’
‘No, now is fine.’ He sighed.
‘I wanted to dig a pond to keep some geese.’
‘For eggs and meat? Wouldn’t chickens be easier?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll see to building the pond, but could you please get me some clay and wax cloth to line it?’
‘You’ll have arms like a blacksmith’s if you dig a pond of any size.’ He frowned. ‘I’ll give you a hand tomorrow and I have some lads who could do with building up. Listen, I’ve been thinking about your plans and agree. I have a warrior here who deserves more responsibility and reward for his service; I’ll put him in charge of setting up a camp at the bridge and seeing to the river’s defences. He’s a clever chap and I think we can trust him to be inventive.’
‘Sounds good.’
‘We have some good hunters who know the forest inside out; I’ll put them in charge of sorting lookout posts in the forest. If … if you think of anything else, my Lady, let me know. I’m sure you will, anyway.’
‘You can always trust me to give my opinion, Tantony, even when you don’t want it!’ She grinned and Tantony caught it, he laughed, and she felt relieved.
‘Yes, indeed.’ He lowered his voice. ‘So, you will speak to the Thane again tonight?’
‘I will, if he does visit me.’
The old warrior seemed to struggle internally before saying, ‘Be careful.’
She nodded. ‘I will.’
Chapter Thirteen
Kesta: Kingdom of Elden
‘Are you going to turn all the women in my hold into savages?’
The three of them spun about to see Jorrun leaning in the doorway. Catya’s face split with a wide toothy grin, Rosa looked mortified; Kesta merely smiled and lowered her dagger to tuck it into her belt.
‘Just the best ones,’ she replied to Catya’s delight. ‘Would you like a lesson?’
‘Not really my weapon.’ He unfolded his arms and stood up straight. ‘Shall we talk about magic?’
Catya gasped, her eyes growing wide.
‘After you,’ Kesta indicated.
She followed him up the stairs and smiled to herself when he paused momentarily on the threshold of her room. She’d placed tea, cups, and a selection of food on the table in preparation. She went to the fireplace and swung the small kettle over the fire and then pushed at the logs with a poker to get the flames going. With a grin she called on her magic to send a flow of air toward the fire so that it flared upward.
‘Show off.’
She turned to see that Jorrun had seated himself at the table and was watching her over his steepled fingers.
‘Other than walking I haven’t used my magic much since coming here,’ she admitted as she joined him. ‘I didn’t want to frighten anyone or get myself burnt at the stake! I know there’s no magic here and they think we of the Fulmers are witches.’
‘The law, in theory, still stands regarding magic; although it has been many years since anyone was burnt for a witch.’ Jorrun sat back, placing his arms flat on the table before him. He seemed much less
tense than she’d ever seen him, and she felt her own muscles relax in response. ‘But then until I arrived here no magic has been practiced in Elden in a very long time.’
‘What happened to Elden’s magic?’
Jorrun’s face lit up briefly. ‘Be careful asking me about history, I’ve done a lot of studying and love the subject.’
‘Go on, I really want to know.’
He sat back, crossing one long leg over the other and resting his left wrist on his knee. ‘Elden’s magic was in the earth, it was in herbs and healing and manipulation of the mind. They used water to scry and could see through the eyes of birds and beasts. They could also dream-walk. There were those who used their gifts for ill, but most were healers and midwives. It is said that one king, many, many years ago, fell in love with a witch. She didn’t return his love and rejected him, but he was obsessed and would not let her be. The queen was angry, hurt and jealous and declared that the witch must have be-spelled the king. The king, spurned and embarrassed, agreed that it must be the case and ordered the witch hanged. Afterward the king, in despair, turned to drink and was killed by a boar in a hunting accident. Of course, the queen believed the boar to be another witch. A decree was sent out that all witches be captured and executed for crimes against the throne and people began to believe the lies about the evil of magic. Eventually all those with magic were either slaughtered or hid and stopped using their magic. The magic of Elden died.’
Kesta blinked, realising with annoyance that she was leaning forward and had somehow fallen into the Dark Man’s eyes again. She stood up to hide her discomfort and fetched the kettle to pour water in to the pot.
‘Nettle and chamomile,’ she informed him.
He nodded.
‘So.’ She placed the kettle before the fireplace and sat back down. ‘Does that mean there is no magic in Elden?’
He shook his head and uncrossing his legs leant forward. ‘There is magic in Elden but is unused, untrained. There are some who perform small feats of magic without knowing they are doing so. Healers; mothers.’
