The Cry of the Marwing

by Unknown

  ‘Kessom.’

  ‘It’s a full day’s ride, Lady, and we’re past noon. At this time of season, the Gorge is likely to be flooded too.’

  ‘Kessom,’ repeated Kira.

  There was a long pause, then orders were issued and soon, other horses came alongside. Kira was barely aware of them, her head filled with a single thought. I need you, Eris. I need you, Eris. I need you, Eris.

  The movement of her mare kept rhythm with this mantra and the sigh of the wind in the Tiar Forests, so Kira hardly noticed the daylight ebbing, or the steepening of the lands around. It was the roar that finally penetrated her consciousness, as the icy mist filled the air and beaded on her cape. They had stopped, and the Guard had dismounted to confer. Then one came back to her.

  ‘This part of the journey’s dangerous, Lady. The river’s high and the path hard even in daylight. There’s been rain, too. Guard Storsil and I will take you and the mare past first. But then we must leave you for a time and return for our horses. There’s no threat once we are past.’

  He held out his hand and Kira realised that he wanted her to dismount. She did so clumsily, and he fastened a length of rope around her waist, reminding her of what Jonred had done when he’d rescued her from Ember Chasm.

  Storsil took one end and led the way while the second Guard held the other end and followed, leading her mare. There was a black roaring to one side and Kira realised it was the river surging through the Gorge. She could hear the snort of the mare, and glanced back to see her eyes roll white. The mare’s fear woke her own, and awareness grew of their danger. This was where Tierken’s father had been found drowned.

  The Guard who followed kept up a constant murmur to soothe the mare, and Kira suddenly understood the reason for their strange mode of travel. If Storsil slipped, he would let go of the rope, rather than drag her into the water with him. The same with the Guard who walked behind. They would drown. But if Kira slipped, she would be held by both of them.

  It began to rain, and the slickness of the path increased. It also made it harder to see. Kira’s night vision was acute, as was most Tremen’s, from the seasons spent in the muted light beneath the trees, so her fear was mainly for the Guard who she’d forced to accompany her. Storsil slipped twice, but each time managed to grab bushes before he went over the edge. Kira had no idea how the Guard behind her fared, not daring to look away from the path. Sweat slid down her back, despite the icy rain, and it seemed an age before the way broadened and the roaring faded.

  The Guard came to a halt, their relief obvious. ‘We must leave you here, Lady, while we return for our mounts,’ said Storsil, undoing the rope. ‘There is nothing to fear, for the danger’s all behind us. Do not go on, though. We will be as swift as possible.’

  ‘Please be careful,’ said Kira. ‘And don’t hurry. It doesn’t matter if I wait the rest of the night.’

  Storsil nodded, and as Kira watched the pair disappear back into the murk, she wondered if it would be the last time she saw them.

  17

  The dirges had been sung and the only sound now was the spit of burning flesh as the flames engulfed the pyres. Tierken stood with bowed head, his men to either side completing the circle. Further out on the plain, the Tain burned the Shargh. If the decision had been Tierken’s, he would have left them to the marwings and wolves, seeing no reason to honour in death those who’d had no honour in life. But Tierken was in Adris’s lands and the Tain King acted as he saw fit.

  It was their last night together before Tierken turned north, leaving Adris’s men to finish off the Shargh who’d so far escaped. Together they’d hunted Shargh over flatlands and stonelands, under moonlight and starlight, through storms and days as clear as glass. The Weshargh Leader had been felled with his horse and, without him, his warriors had proved easy pickings. Of the Soushargh they’d seen no sign.

  Scurried back to their skin huts, Adris had said contemptuously. Tierken was less sure. But alone, he doubted the Soushargh were a threat. The Cashgar Leader had escaped, bearing the mark of Jonred’s sword upon his face, but most of his warriors now fed the fires behind Tierken. The Ashmiri had taken their animals east again, having wisely chosen to herd, not fight.

  The flames sank, and with a final bow Tierken made his way back to camp, Adris coming forward and handing him a cup of ale.

  ‘Let us give thanks to Meros and Irid, to the strength of our men, and to a friendship regained between our peoples,’ said Adris.

  ‘And to our last night together,’ added Tierken, as they drained their cups. There was no need to talk now of treaty and obligation, or of loyalty and trust. They were as brothers, and that was enough.

  The night was fine and the dawn gentle, Tierken on the move before the sun crested the horizon. He kept Kalos’s pace easy, although he yearned to gallop all the way to Sarnia. There was still danger, despite the apparent emptiness of the plain, and it only took one spear to lose a man or horse. Tierken refused to surrender either, especially through carelessness.

  He’d had no messages from Sarnia for half a moon, nor had he expected any. Their pace and dispersal over the Sarsalin made it difficult for messengers to track him, and Tierken preferred they not risk their lives in the attempt. The last news he’d received had been from Marin, which consisted of what Farid sent in a scroll, and what was said by the gossips.

  Farid wrote that Kira had not yet fully recovered from her saving of Tresen, but refused to leave the Haelen to rest, and Marin told him that Kira’s selflessness had earned her respect and affection in Sarnia. Tierken would have preferred she was held in contempt, if the price of such respect was her health.

  The other news from both Farid and Marin was that Laryia continued to keep company with Tremen Healer Tresen. Perhaps the call of blood to blood ran in his family, thought Tierken dryly, contemplating his feelings for Kira. The first reports from Farid had made Tierken wonder whether it was sympathy Laryia felt for Kira’s clanmate rather than affection, but the messages since, both official and unofficial, suggested more.

  Tresen was being nursed in the Domain by Niria, and Laryia never went to his rooms. She met Tresen only in the courtyard, when he was carried there by the servers on a special chair, in full view. They sat close but didn’t touch. Yet the gossips agreed that the Lady Laryia had never looked more beautiful, and that the cause of her joy was Tremen Healer Tresen.

  Laryia had always been beautiful and it wasn’t any supposed change in her looks that convinced Tierken she was in love, but her caution. Laryia had long shrugged off rumours seeded by the time she spent alone with Farid. They can believe I share my bed with Rosham, for all I care, she’d once scoffed. Well, she certainly cared now.

  The journeying was pleasant, the dwinhir performing their dances in the distance and young silverjacks breaking from the grasses before them. Only the rotting remains of Ashmiri horses and the occasional Shargh corpse covered in squabbling marwings marred their pleasure. Tierken and his men spat on the first in contempt at the Ashmiri’s duplicity, and on the second in hatred.

  The warmth had had its effect on the Silvercades too, the Breshlin the deepest Tierken had ever seen it. The rushing water came almost to Kalos’s girth. Tierken forded first, then secured a rope back across to aid the smaller horses. And then, despite his eagerness to reach Sarnia, he set camp early, knowing that his men needed time without fighting or travel. They sang that night, although there were no lay-links, for the fighting had forced the herders far to the north or to the shelter of Sarnia’s walls.

  As was usual, the Kirs sang of herding and the Kessomis of the mountains, but the Terak and Illians sang of the women they’d left behind. Tierken had heard their songs countless times before, but never had they affected him as they did now.

  Camp was broken before dawn and they were halfway to Ges Grove when the scouts reported a messenger. Tierken rode on to meet him, enjoying the hard gallop as much as Kalos, and eager for news.

  It was Ayled, who ha
d been with the patrols stationed at the back of the city.

  ‘I’ve searched for you these past days, Feailner,’ he said, handing him the message cylinder.

  Tierken read quickly and his hand clenched on the message-paper. ‘How many days?’

  ‘Four since I set out, Feailner.’

  Kira had gone to Kessom at a time when the boil of water through Glass Gorge roared like the gales in the Silvercades. What had possessed Farid to let her go? One slip on the upper path was all it took. There was no way out of the torrent, and no second chance.

  ‘Take message to Anvorn to bring the men in,’ snapped Tierken. ‘I go to Sarnia.’

  He wrenched Kalos around and rode hard till dusk, rested Kalos briefly then rode hard again. It was dusk on the second day when the walls came into sight, Kalos going with his head down and Tierken feeling scarcely better. He briefly acknowledged Caledon and the Tremen he commanded as he passed through the Rehan Valley, but didn’t stop.

  A storm of silvery peals and chimes greeted him as he neared the wall, and people lined the path to cheer him and throw flowers as he went on up to the Domain. He waved to them and forced himself to smile. During the long days of fighting, he had imagined his triumphant homecoming with pleasure, but now all he felt was anger.

  Ryn waited at the stables and they embraced. ‘It’s good to have you back, Feailner,’ he said, eyeing Kalos. ‘You’ve worked the stallion hard.’

  ‘His work’s not finished. I’ll need him on the morrow.’

  ‘The next day, Feailner.’

  Tierken sighed. ‘The next day then, Horse Master.’

  He hurried towards the courtyard where Farid and Laryia waited, and was less than halfway to them before Laryia sprinted to him and leapt into his arms.

  ‘Thank Irid you’re safe,’ she repeated over and over again, her face wet with tears. ‘I love you so much.’

  ‘And I you,’ he said, tightening his grip, then released her to embrace Farid. ‘It’s good to see you, Keeper.’

  ‘And you my friend,’ replied Farid.

  ‘I’ll join you shortly, Farid, but first I must speak with my sister.’

  Farid bowed. ‘I’ll await you in the Meeting Hall,’ he said.

  Laryia led the way to her rooms and settled at her table, watching as Tierken paced. His face was harder and leaner, and his prowling like that of a fanchon readying to attack.

  ‘Kira went to Kessom without me or Farid knowing,’ she said quietly.

  ‘The reports said she was ill. Why didn’t you care for her?’

  ‘There were too many wounded for either of us to rest. As soon as I could, I sent her back to the Domain. That’s when she went.’

  ‘Then what possessed Guard Leader Tharin to let her go?’

  ‘He warned her of the state of the Gorge and advised her not to go. You know that’s all he can do. When she refused his advice, he sent Guard with her.’

  ‘So three drown instead of one! Have you message from Kessom?’

  ‘No. They wouldn’t risk travel.’

  ‘So we don’t know if any of them survived the Gorge?’

  ‘No.’

  Tierken paused with his hands on his hips, staring out at the Silvercades. ‘Why go to Kessom anyway?’ he demanded, pacing again.

  ‘I think Kira knew she needed the care of another Healer. The constant taking of pain –’

  ‘I forbade her to do that!’

  ‘Kira’s a Healer, Tierken! Without that skill, many who live would be dead. Tresen would be dead!’

  Laryia flushed and Tierken turned on her. ‘The reports say that there’s love between you.’

  ‘The reports are true.’

  ‘Is it love?’

  ‘I know the difference between sunlight and shadow, Tierken.’

  ‘The Tremen don’t marry, Laryia. I won’t have you as “his woman”.’

  ‘Tresen understands what our customs demand. We wait only for your permission.’

  ‘And if I withhold it?’

  ‘You’ve no reason to. You’ve recognised the Tremen as kin.’

  ‘You realise that as Kira can’t return south, Tresen will have to. After Kira, they say he’s the best Healer. Tremen Leaders are chosen on Healer skill.’

  ‘We’ve spoken of it,’ said Laryia.

  ‘You would go to Allogrenia with him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, my choice is to lose you or to lose Kira.’

  ‘You’ll never lose me,’ said Laryia, going to him and taking his hands. ‘If Sarnia now welcomes Kasheron’s seed, then Allogrenia will have to welcome us.’

  Tierken said nothing.

  ‘I know this is hard for you, Tierken, especially after the terrible fighting. But I’m asking for your blessing to marry the man I love, and with whom I want to spend the rest of my days, whatever those days might bring. Will you give it to me?’

  Tierken contemplated her grimly. If Laryia married Tresen she would be far from him, far from the safety of the walls and the protection of Terak patrolmen. But the alternative was to deny her his permission to marry and hope that her misery would pass and she would love someone else in time. No doubt there were many people in Sarnia who hoped he’d love someone else, too.

  Laryia still waited and Tierken kissed her formally on each cheek. ‘I love you, Laryia, and desire your happiness above all else. If you believe it lies with Tresen, then I give you my permission and my blessing to wed him.’

  Laryia’s eyes widened and she threw her arms around his neck. Tierken felt wetness soak into his shirt.

  ‘Too much weeping,’ he said.

  ‘They’re tears of joy,’ said Laryia thickly.

  ‘I must join Farid now to discuss what’s happened in my absence, and what progress has been made on the Wastes. On the morrow, I will go to the Rehan Valley to speak with Lord Caledon and the men there. I intend to keep the valley guarded until after the next moon and need to arrange replacement patrols. The next day I’ll go to Kessom.

  ‘Depending on what I find there, it could be another moon before I return. That should give you ample time to make your marriage preparations. How is Tresen?’

  ‘He grows stronger each day, but cannot yet walk.’

  ‘When would you wed then?’

  ‘At the beginning of summer.’

  It would be a good time for two weddings, thought Tierken, even though Kira had refused to marry him before, offering him only a Tremen bonding. Tresen’s willingness to marry, however, proved that Tremen traditions were no real impediment to marriage. Tierken knew he had Kira’s love, and now the fighting was finished he had time to gain her trust as well.

  He sighed, feeling the effects of the long moons of fighting, and realising that he could make no plans for his own Marriage Walk until he knew whether his bride-to-be had survived the perilous journey through Glass Gorge.

  18

  Tierken timed his journey to Kessom so that he would pass through Glass Gorge in daylight, both to search for signs of Kira, and to avoid risking the Gorge path in the dark. The thunder of the Silver Falls was audible from the Frost Glades, and by the time he neared the Gorge, spray fell like rain. Kalos tossed his head and snorted and Tierken had to dismount. The lower path was submerged by a boiling torrent of water, full of mud and broken branches. He stared down at it, filled with dread, and then turned towards the upper path.

  It showed evidence of horses, and of large boots, but of no smaller ones. The prints were deeply cut, too, which meant that the path had been wet. Kira and the Guard had left Sarnia a little after midday; it would have been night before they’d reached here. Darkness and a slick path – it was hard to think of a more deadly combination.

  He stroked Kalos’s neck as he edged along the path, his eyes on the surging water below. Even if all three of them had slipped in, there might be no trace, but the presence of bootprints going both ways suggested that at least one of the Guard had survived the trek. The knowing brought him no comfor
t at all.

  Tierken forced himself not to hurry, not wanting to end his days in the water, or to lose Kalos, and it seemed an age before the path broadened and he was able to mount again. He continued as quickly as the land allowed, but it was well dark before he reached Kessom. For once the stable master, Robrin, was nowhere to be found.

  There was no sign of Kira’s mare either, but these weren’t the only stables in Kessom, and Robrin oversaw the others as well. Tierken had to spend precious time rubbing Kalos down, working swiftly before sprinting up the path to Eris’s house. He beat on the door, barely paused, then beat again.

  Finally Eris opened it.

  ‘Is Kira here?’ he demanded.

  ‘Yes. Kira and the Guard arrived safely.’

  ‘Thank Irid! She’s in Laryia’s room?’ he asked, following Eris in and snatching up a lamp.

  Eris’s bony hand closed over his arm. ‘Let her be. She sleeps so lightly you’ll wake her, if your thumping hasn’t already. There’s time enough on the morrow.’

  Tierken followed Eris to the cooking place and threw himself into a chair. ‘Tell me how she is,’ he said.

  ‘Kira was exhausted when she arrived, but that was a moon third ago,’ said Eris. ‘Since then she’s slept and eaten, and gathered, worked herbs into salves and pastes, and sat with me.’

  Eris poured cotzee for Tierken and loaded cheese and maizen bread onto a plate, but Tierken barely noticed, his eyes boring into her.

  ‘But is she well?’

  ‘Exhaustion and a constant dealing with death will make anyone ill, and Kira is no exception. But she will heal. All she needs is time to see what is good and beautiful in the world again.’

  ‘I don’t know how long I can stay; there’s much to be done in Sarnia. Has Kira spoken of me?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Of the Lord Caledon then?’

  ‘No,’ said Eris, then smiled at Tierken’s expression. ‘Don’t fret, Tierken. When you first brought Kira here, I saw her love for you, and it’s no different now. But you must give her time.’