Betrayal

by Lara Morgan

  Karnit assessed him from head to foot. ‘So it was you who had the Ice Lands woman and abandoned her,’ he sneered. ‘That is not the way of a clansman. And I know she was not in our lands when she met Haldane.’

  ‘No.’ Rorc said smoothly. ‘I too am Outcast from Clan.’

  ‘Ha!’ Karnit laughed. ‘So not truly a clansman at all! A fitting father for two such abominations.’

  ‘Yes,’ Rorc said, putting a hand on Mailun’s arm as she took a step forward, her face suffused with anger. ‘I was as fit to be their father as you are to be leader.’

  Karnit’s laugh stopped abruptly and his look became dangerous. ‘You have forgotten many Clan ways if you think you can insult me and live,’ he said.

  But Rorc only tilted his head, resting a hand lightly on the pommel of his sword. ‘I did not leave the Clans so young that I did not hear of you, Karnit. Your reputation is known beyond your own borders. I am surprised you have been elected to lead all clans. Tell me, how has this happened?’

  Karnit’s lips were a thin line. ‘I have no need to answer to you, Outcast.’

  ‘No. But you may need to explain to those who elected you why you tried to murder one of your own. My son.’ His voice hardened and Tallis glimpsed anger beneath Rorc’s calm facade.

  ‘None would believe an Outcast, a wetlander,’ Karnit sneered.

  ‘Then why are you sweating?’ Rorc said.

  ‘And what is it you hope to achieve by this?’ Karnit ignored his comment. ‘You want the Baal to take you back? You want redemption?’

  ‘What I want is for you to sign the treaty I bring. To agree to bring the full might of the clan warriors as a united force against the Fallen god who seeks to destroy us. The Guardian offers good trade compensation for this commitment.’

  ‘You want the Clans to fight alongside wetlanders?’ Karnit’s tone was scornful.

  ‘It is the only way to save everyone,’ Shila said. ‘Even with all the clans united you cannot defeat him alone, Karnit. You have seen what the serpents can do.’

  ‘Silence, woman!’ he hissed. ‘I tolerate you as Dreamer but do not push your position.’

  Shila blinked but did not move and Rorc smiled. ‘Threatening a Dreamer?’ he said.

  Karnit took a step toward him.

  ‘The Gathering Circle should hear this offer,’ Shila said. ‘A decision such as this is not solely up to you — leader.’ She said the word but her tone held no deference.

  His gaze swept over all of them, but Tallis did not feel the fear of him he had once felt.

  ‘So, you think you can defy me,’ he said slowly. ‘Try if you must, but I will not be defeated, especially by an Outcast and his ill-begotten spawn.’

  ‘Be careful, Karnit,’ Shila said, ‘they are chosen by the Guides. You should be wary.’

  Tallis saw that for once her words had hit home, but Karnit was struggling not to show it. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘But do not think to stay in these walls. Camp outside. We will talk again soon.’

  ‘Thank you, leader.’ Shila turned to the leather closure. Rorc, a faint smile on his lips, pulled the heavy covering aside so she could pass through, and they followed her out. Tallis felt an uneasy triumph at how that had gone, but he did not savour what would come next. It was possible Karnit might try to kill him again, although he would have no trouble defending himself this time. He almost wished the old man would try; perhaps then he would begin to understand just how much had changed.

  Chapter 31

  ‘Drive it deeper; it won’t hold otherwise,’ Tallis instructed Shaan, then swung his own mallet and forced the pin on his side of the tent further into the coarse sand until only the head was visible. He tested the rope for tension then stood back, the mallet swinging from his hand.

  ‘That should hold it.’ Shaan wiped sweat from her forehead.

  They had erected the tents close to the wall of the Well, away from the entrance and the other clans’ tents, facing the desert. The sun had dropped below the horizon and the pink-washed sky was darkening. A few oil torches had been lit among the other clans, and the sound of children’s voices shrieking in protest as their mothers called them in filled the still evening air, along with the faint scrape of blades being sharpened and men talking. Rorc and Mailun had gone to fetch food and water from the stores and Tallis had sent the serpents to the other side of the Well so they were out of sight.

  Shaan sat on the ground in front of their small fire and said to Tallis, ‘I don’t think we’re much wanted around here.’ She looked to the tents of the Shalneef a dozen steps away. A few women wandered among them with children, while their warrior heart mates sharpened knives around a small fire.

  ‘None of them will harm us,’ Tallis said, sitting next to her, ‘not at another clan’s Well. Even the Raknah wouldn’t raise trouble like that.’

  ‘They’re the ones who haven’t brought any children?’ Shaan said, and he nodded.

  ‘They never travel with them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Raknah child.’

  ‘Which ones are the Baal?’ Shaan asked. ‘Rorc’s clan.’

  Tallis nodded to the Well entrance.

  ‘They’re closest to the great cavern. They’re one of our —’ He checked himself, ‘— the Jalwalah’s closest allies,’ he finished.

  ‘It’s hard to tell some of them apart,’ she said.

  ‘You’ll get it eventually,’ said Tallis.

  He looked at the other clans spread out near the Well entrance. Each clan leader had brought ten warriors and their families, a sign of faith in the unity of the Clans — except for the Raknah, who had only warriors. Tallis wondered how much more powerful the Raknah would be if the Jalwalah and the Baal were not so numerous.

  ‘They’re coming back,’ he said quietly, and Shaan saw Mailun and Rorc wending their way past the tents of the Shalneef.

  ‘Here.’ Mailun reached them first, handing a packet of wrapped pan bread to Shaan. ‘Put this in the tent.’ She held out a large piece of raw muthu to Tallis. ‘And you put this on the fire, son. I’ll prepare some hoia grain. Look, we have some salt as well.’ She held up three cloth bags.

  ‘Nonyu and dried fevi.’ Mailun dropped a few of the wrinkled green pods into his hand. He put them in his mouth and immediately the dusky sweet flavour brought a memory of afternoons as a boy picking the fresh berries with Jared and Irissa. It was a bittersweet memory and he skewered the meat on the spit harder than was necessary. Rorc walked past him and crouched down to put the filled water skins in his tent.

  ‘I see, like a mountain cat, you always land on your feet, Rorc,’ a deep voice said, and Rorc tensed then straightened, turning slowly to look at the man who had come to their camp.

  ‘Hashmael,’ he said. ‘I expected you sooner.’ His green eyes were cool but wary and, Tallis thought, held the touch of a challenge.

  The man he had called Hashmael smiled, but the gesture bore no friendship. ‘I am a busy man,’ he said. ‘I came when I was ready.’

  Rorc nodded and there was a moment’s silence as the two men faced each other. Mailun and Shaan had stopped by the tent, waiting. Hashmael was tall, well built, and older than Rorc by perhaps twenty years. He had a blue tattoo of a desert eagle in flight high on his right cheekbone and was dressed in the soft leather vest and trousers of a Baal warrior, but Tallis suspected he was much more than that. His hair, although grey, had not receded, and he wore it cut short, revealing a face that still held the vestiges of a handsome youth. But it was not a face that smiled often — it was a face marked by sorrow. Deep frown lines creased the bridge between his brown eyes.

  ‘Did you expect I should offer you special treatment?’ he said.

  ‘I expect nothing,’ Rorc said.

  ‘No?’ Hashmael raised an eyebrow and his gaze took in Tallis, then Shaan and finally Mailun. ‘You have children now — grown children.’

  ‘And you are leader of the Baal,’ Rorc said.

  ‘Yes. Time changes men.’ Hashmae
l’s voice lost some of its hard edge and his look became considering. ‘Sometimes, even their minds.’

  Rorc frowned but didn’t answer, and Hashmael again looked at Tallis then back to his father. ‘I would speak with you — before you meet the Circle.’

  ‘You would welcome an Outcast to your camp?’ Rorc said.

  ‘Are we not still kin?’ Hashmael said.

  Rorc flinched in surprise, and Tallis looked at him in astonishment. They were related?

  ‘We will present our proposal tomorrow,’ Rorc said. ‘Will it please you if I come before the sun rises above the horizon?’

  ‘It would.’ Hashmael nodded. ‘Until then.’ He strode away.

  For a long moment there was only silence as Rorc avoided all their eyes and sat in front of the fire.

  ‘The leader of the Baal is your kin?’ Mailun came slowly to sit, followed by Shaan.

  Rorc exhaled. ‘Yes. Hashmael is my father’s brother.’ He paused then added, ‘My father was leader before him.’

  ‘You were in line to be leader?’ Tallis said.

  Rorc nodded. ‘Yes. But I was Outcast. The line passed on. I had no living brothers or sisters.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Shaan said.

  ‘What would you have done with the knowledge?’ Rorc said, but Mailun spoke instead.

  ‘You never told me,’ she said quietly.

  He turned to her. ‘Would it have mattered?’ he said.

  She looked at him across the flames for a moment then away. ‘I can’t remember what I would have thought then.’

  ‘You should have told us,’ Tallis said. ‘Before we came, you should have told us.’

  ‘I know.’ Rorc nodded and then Tallis saw something in his eyes he had never expected to see: uncertainty. ‘I wasn’t sure it would be him,’ Rorc said. ‘And then when I saw him I couldn’t find the words. Old memories …’ he looked at the fire. ‘Hard memories.’

  ‘What kind of man is he?’ Mailun asked softly, as if she knew some of the memories he spoke of. Perhaps she did, Tallis thought.

  Rorc glanced at her. ‘We were close once,’ he said. ‘My own father died of a coughing sickness when I was young — that much you know. Hashmael helped my mother in those early years.’ He paused. ‘He trained me to be leader, but it seems he has taken that mantle himself.’ His green eyes were dark in the flickering firelight. ‘He is devoted to Clan, but not as blindly as Karnit. Although, it has been many years since I saw him. Time changes people.’

  Tallis reached out and rotated the spit. Silence fell among them for a time. Mailun mixed a measure of grain with water in a pot and placed it in the fire to cook.

  ‘Do you think he can help us?’ Shaan asked. ‘Will he be able to change Karnit’s mind?’

  Rorc sat as still as a desert cat as he stared at the flames. ‘I don’t know.’

  ***

  The next morning the sky was cloud scuffed and dull, the sun emitting a sullen heat that encouraged weariness before the day had properly begun. Rorc’s bedroll had been empty at least an hour when Tallis woke and he lay in the stuffy warmth of the tent listening to his mother clinking pots outside by the fire, no doubt brewing nonyu, wondering what Rorc and Hashmael were talking about.

  He hadn’t slept well. His mind was too full of thoughts of his close links to the Baal, and of Shaan’s time with Sabut, and he felt an underlying dread of the meeting of the Circle of the Clans he must face today. How would they receive them? Sitting up he ran his fingers through his tangled hair and twisted it back behind his head. He was covered in dust and sweat and badly needed a wash. Perhaps he would go down to the springs before the meeting.

  He pushed back the flap of the tent and went out. Mailun was crouching over the fire pouring nonyu into a cup while Shaan was already sipping her own brew.

  ‘Here,’ Mailun offered him a cup, but he shook his head.

  ‘Shaan,’ he said. ‘Do you want a wash? I’ll show you the hot springs — or the cold if you want.’

  ‘Gods, yes.’ She put down her cup. ‘Just let me get some clothes.’ She got up with some haste and ducked into her tent.

  ‘You may not be welcome in there, son,’ Mailun said.

  ‘Do you think anyone would actually speak to me to tell me no?’ he said. ‘People know why we’re here, Mother.’

  Mailun’s jaw was tight. ‘Just go carefully,’ she said, and blew on her nonyu. ‘Irissa came to see you earlier.’

  Tallis frowned. ‘I don’t know what I can say to her,’ he said quietly.

  ‘That doesn’t mean you should say nothing.’

  Tallis doubted that.

  ‘I’m ready.’ Shaan came out of the tent with a roll of clean clothes in her hand.

  ‘Come on then.’ Tallis led Shaan away toward the mouth of the great cavern.

  No one stopped them entering the Well or the tunnels to the springs and anyone they came across in the tunnels quickly stepped out of their way, but none spoke. Tallis had never been so aware of how much apart from the clan he was. Jared truly had been his only friend.

  They went to the small spring at the very back of the caves and had it all to themselves, bathing in silence amid the dripping of the water. By the time they returned to their tents Rorc was back, but he said nothing about his visit and the look on his face stopped any questions. Tension hung about him like a cloak.

  ‘The meeting is due to start,’ Rorc said, and rose from where he sat by the now extinguished fire. ‘We have to go.’

  The four of them walked toward the mouth of the great cavern. Eyes followed them as they passed between the tents and it was the same in the cavern. Talk of why they had come had rippled through the people like fire through dry twigs. Wetlanders were seeking a union; wetlanders led by an Outcast of the Baal. Tallis wondered if they had any chance at all of succeeding.

  Mailun went with them only as far as the tunnel that led to the meeting chamber. She had not been invited to attend.

  ‘I’ll see you soon,’ she said as they left her standing at the entrance. ‘Speak well, son.’

  Tallis nodded, too nervous to reply. Behind her stood Irissa with her mother, Pilar, and Miram, one of the Jalwalah clan’s Circle. Irissa’s mother was tall and finely muscled with sharply defined cheekbones and the smooth, dark skin of someone much younger. She looked too much like her son, and Tallis could barely meet her eye. Irissa, though, gazed at him fiercely with a mixture of anxiety and frustration. He felt Shaan take his hand and squeeze it.

  Miram inclined her head. ‘Speak well, Tallis,’ she said.

  He heard murmurs as people reacted to Miram’s words, but he hadn’t the time to comprehend what they meant as Thadin stepped out to escort them down the tunnel to the meeting.

  His heart was beating hard and fast as he stood at the top of the steps between his father and sister. The last time he was here it had been for judgment from a different Circle. He felt for a moment the ghost of that day: the sorrow he had been carrying for Haldane’s death, and the fear, so strong it was like hands around his neck. But he was not the same person as the one who had stood here before.

  Rorc cast him a look of caution and solidarity, and led them down to stand before the five men who sat waiting for them on the stone seats.

  Karnit was in the centre, watching them approach with a look of enmity. On his left sat the leaders of the Raknah and Halmahda, and to his right the chiefs of the Shalneef and the Baal. Shila sat apart from the rest as if only there to oversee, but she nodded at them as they entered.

  The Raknah leader was the youngest, probably a few years younger than Rorc, muscular and dark with a thick pelt of hair shaved into a strip running from ear to ear across his scalp. The look in his eyes spoke of a mind fixed more often on battle than on peace. He studied them with an impassive stare while beside him the Halmahda leader, a bald man of light build and the dark, lined skin of a Hunter, seemed more curious than threatening. The leader of the Shalneef was tall and wiry with a bro
ad face, his cheekbones wide and his eyes sunken so Tallis could not discern his thoughts at all. But the leader of the Baal, Hashmael, his second great-father, was hardest to read. He watched them as if he didn’t know Rorc at all. His face was as blank and hard as Rorc’s had ever been, but that stillness drew the eye and of all the men sitting there, it was Hashmael who commanded the greatest presence. It made Tallis wonder how Karnit had been elected above him to lead the united clans.

  Rorc stepped forward, a scroll with the Guardian’s seal in his hand.

  ‘Clan leaders,’ he began. ‘You know why we are here, we —’

  ‘Your names first,’ Karnit interrupted, his eyes glinting in the light of the green oil lamps, ‘so we may all know who speaks to us.’

  ‘You already know who we are.’ There was an edge to Rorc’s voice.

  ‘Speak your names anyway,’ Karnit said, smiling. ‘We must follow the traditions of the Clan Circle. Names first, proposals second. The Guides demand it.’

  Tallis ground his teeth. That wasn’t all the Guides demanded.

  He felt the tension in Rorc barely contained and glared at Karnit, not bothering to hide his hatred. Beside him, Shaan was barely breathing.

  ‘As you wish,’ Rorc said. ‘I am Rorc, son of the Baal, Outcast of the Baal, and once in line to be leader.’ His gaze went to Hashmael but the Baal leader didn’t move. ‘Now I am Commander of Armies for the Guardian of Salmut and I come with my children to seek a uniting of force against a common enemy.’

  ‘And your supposed children,’ Karnit’s mouth twisted on the words, ‘who are they?’ His voice was soft, venomous, and beside him the leader of the Halmahda shifted in his seat.

  ‘There is no doubt they are mine,’ Rorc said. ‘And don’t pretend they are strangers. Tallis you have known since birth and his sister, Shaan, you carried yourself out into the sands and left to die. But it is obvious the Guides had other plans.’

  ‘It is not the Guides’ will that saw her live,’ Karnit snapped. ‘She belongs to Kaa and should have been left to him.’

  Shaan flinched and Tallis put a hand on her arm. Quiet, he whispered in her mind.