The Cry of the Marwing

by Unknown

  ‘You should have told me you were sending men to Allogrenia,’ she said.

  ‘You knew I had to ensure Laryia’s safety; it made sense to take up the Lord Caledon’s suggestion to use him as an intermediary. According to him, he’s trusted by your people. Is that not the case?’

  ‘As Tremen Leader, I should have been told.’

  ‘Soon Tresen, or whoever your people choose, will take on the leadership. Then –’ He stopped as Tharin approached.

  ‘Yes, Guard Leader?’ he said.

  ‘Tremen Protector Dendrin is at the gate. He requests speech with the Tremen Leader.’

  ‘Show him to the Meeting Hall,’ said Tierken, before Kira could speak. ‘Why does Dendrin seek you?’ he asked her.

  ‘I want to know where my people are in the city, how many are intending to stay here, and how they envisage making enough trade to live. And I’ve never thanked them for their sacrifices in defeating the Shargh.’

  ‘I have a full list of where the Tremen are billeted, and at last count forty-one were definite in their plans to stay, at least for another season, and will shift into the houses in Kasheron’s Quarter as soon as they are complete.

  ‘Some have expressed interest in remaining as Protectors by joining the Terak patrols, and others have already put their woodworking skills to use with the woodwrights fitting out the new houses; some need longer to fully heal their injuries before travelling. In my capacity as Commander of both the Terak and the Tremen – granted to me by the ring you sent – I’ve thanked the Tremen for their service.’

  ‘I still need to speak with him,’ said Kira stubbornly.

  ‘If you wish,’ said Tierken. ‘I must meet with Marin now to plan the next patrol.’

  ‘You’re not going away before Tresen and Laryia leave, are you?’

  ‘I need to ensure the eastern route over the Sarsalin is clear, but I’ll be back around the full moon to properly farewell them,’ he said, nodding to her briefly then moving away.

  Protector Leader Dendrin simply reiterated what Tierken had said and, feeling superfluous, Kira went down to the Haelen. But for once, no one in Sarnia had scalded or cut themselves, woken inexplicably wracked with pain or eaten something Irid or Meros had cursed. Arlen was in the Herbery grinding sorren, in the company of a pretty brown-eyed woman, and it was clear they preferred to be alone.

  Desperate for something to distract her from her thoughts, she strode back up to the Domain and saddled Brightwings, deciding that she might as well continue her interrupted exploration of the Rehan Valley. Guards Farsrin and Storsil accompanied her, but the beauty of the Steelwater and the flash of water birds breaking from its surface soon soothed away her frustration at having them tag at her heels.

  The sun was westering before Kira came to the first of the burned houses in the southern Rehan Valley, bringing Bright-wings to a halt as memories of the Bough’s destruction swept over her. The wood was black and twisted and a charred odour hung in the air.

  ‘It will be full dark before we reach the city if we don’t return now, Lady,’ said Farsrin eventually.

  Kira turned Brightwings north, though it took her a long time to shake off the sense of bleakness.

  To her surprise, Tierken was waiting in her rooms, and for the first time since her return to Sarnia, he seemed relaxed. No doubt Caledon’s departure had helped to restore his humour, thought Kira.

  ‘How far did you ride?’ he asked.

  ‘To the burned houses.’

  ‘We’re in the process of rebuilding what was destroyed, as are the Tain. No doubt your people are too.’

  ‘Well if they are, I won’t have the chance to find out.’

  ‘Not for a little while. But Terak and Tremen patrols will journey back and forth, and in time the route will become safer. Then you can visit.’

  ‘I thought you’d defeated the Shargh,’ said Kira, bridling over Tierken’s assumption of control over her movements.

  ‘Most of the Cashgar and Weshargh warriors were killed, but the Soushargh took little part in the fighting. And even a defeated people will attack travellers if they deem themselves stronger than their quarry.’

  ‘If the Cashgar and Weshargh men are dead, what will happen to their families?’

  ‘I have no idea, and nor do I care. The Shargh chose their murderous path and they’ve slaughtered our women, children and old people, not to mention our men. If their folk now die too, then perhaps Irid has a sense of justice after all.’

  ‘Are your gods so cruel that they punish the innocent?’

  ‘I didn’t come here to discuss the Shargh or our gods.’

  ‘What did you come here for?’

  ‘To see you,’ he said, bringing the backs of his fingers down her cheek. ‘To have time together before I go south.’

  Kira bit back a sarcastic comment about him behaving in an ‘ill-considered’ way, for his nearness and touch had woken her hunger for him.

  He undressed her slowly, his love-making as gentle as in their early days. His scent, the silk of his skin, and his mouth soft and hard on hers, healed the anger and uncertainty of the previous days, and as she lay in his arms afterwards, listening to the strong beat of his heart, she felt completely safe and loved.

  But for how long? Until her refusal to wed him ignited his anger again? Until he remembered she was Kasheron’s cursed seed? Until he tired of her?

  28

  By the time Kira woke the next day, Tierken had gone. She rolled over and inhaled his scent from the sheets, knowing that she should be used to the briefness of their time together, but instead finding it more and more difficult. Even when Tierken was in the Domain, his disdain for the bonding kept him away most of the time. Either that, or he was becoming like the patrolmen who sought out women other than their wives. Although Tierken’s passion had seemed undiminished the previous night, it had been eight days since he’d last come to her bed. He’d been content to sleep alone, while for her, each night that she must curl up without him – knowing that he slept just a short distance away – was a torture. And now he was on patrol again – for a whole moon.

  She thought enviously of Tresen and Laryia in the rooms next door. They seemed in perfect accord, but maybe Laryia’s love for Tresen wouldn’t last either. Kira half shook her head, reminding herself that she had resolved to give Tierken time to understand the nature of bonding. Perhaps the whole moon he now had would be enough – or perhaps not.

  At least it was a warm sunny day – perfect for the work ahead, she thought, as she made her way to the Wastes. She intended to occupy the time of Tierken’s absence by clearing the growth from around the fireweed. Farid had suggested she wait for Tierken to authorise men to do it instead, but she needed something to do other than wandering about, endlessly rehashing their arguments and longing for his return.

  It was pleasant among the bloom of weeds and herbs, the hum of bees and the sappy scents, and she could even forget the bored shufflings of the Guard. Stone- and woodwrights went past carting tools and supplies, and the sound of building reminded Kira that one day the Wastes would truly be Kasheron’s Quarter.

  The weather remained fine, and she worked until dusk each day, her back aching and her hands blistered, but her mind blessedly empty. And slowly, as the time passed, Queen Kiraon’s garden began to re-emerge.

  Sometimes, as Kira worked, she’d pause to imagine the always-green stump replaced with a live alwaysgreen, the stone seat intact, and the terraces covered in brightly flowering herbs. There was no reason why the streets in Kasheron’s Quarter couldn’t be clothed in greenery too, and she began to consider what types of trees and shrubs would be best suited to the city and how water could be brought to them. Once the rest of the city’s residents saw how pleasant such plantings were, she was sure they would be amenable to extending the green and growing into their own Quarters. Then it would be a green city, rather than a stone one. She remembered the beauty of Queen’s Grove in Maraschin.

&nb
sp; Tresen’s recovery continued apace, and sometimes Kira wondered whether it were indeed the healing power of love, as he’d suggested. And as Tresen grew stronger, Laryia began to teach him to ride. Kira happily lent him Brightwings and Laryia took him on short excursions beyond the gate, then on half-day journeys as his skill and strength grew.

  Then, one morning, Laryia came to tell Kira that she and Tresen were to visit Kessom. ‘I need to farewell those there,’ she said. ‘Would you like to come? I’m sure Tierken wouldn’t mind.’

  Tierken wouldn’t, but Eris would. ‘It’s best you have time alone with your grandmother and your friends,’ said Kira, bending to pick a leaf from her breeches so that her hair hid her face.

  Tresen and Laryia’s absence, on top of Tierken’s, brought home to Kira just how lonely the Domain could – and would – be. While Queen Kiraon’s garden kept her busy during the day, she’d grown used to sharing the occasional meal with the newly married couple, or chatting with them as they moved about the Domain preparing for their departure. Now she missed these times terribly.

  Increasingly, she began to seek out Farid in the Meeting Hall. He was happy to share a meal with her and to discuss the histories of the Terak or the functioning of the city or anything else she asked about. Kira’s early judgement of Farid as being honest and true proved to be accurate, but she was also delighted to discover that he had an irreverent sense of humour. She found herself laughing more in his company than she had in her entire time away from Allogrenia. And, as the days slipped past, her trust in him also grew, so that she spoke to him of her life in the forests, of how she needed to return there to make her farewells, and of how she planned to seed Sarnia with the blooms and birdsong of her homeland.

  The moon grew large again and Tresen and Laryia returned, but there was still no sign of Tierken’s patrol. Kira’s impatience gradually turned to fear. Kalos might have gone down, or the patrol come under wolf attack, or Shargh attack, or attack by some foul Sarsalin storm. The more she thought about it, the more the possibilities for injury and death multiplied.

  Farid reassured her more than once that a pledge to return around the full moon could mean up to five days before or after.

  It was just as well Healers weren’t so imprecise, Kira thought, as she made her way to the Illian Quarter one morning, otherwise they’d be splinting the legs of people with broken arms! The Guard trailed behind her as usual, but she’d been in this part of Sarnia often enough now not to have to ask them for directions.

  She was to visit Atasia, who was wife to Borin, and distant kin to Niria – not that the kinship mattered. What did matter was that Atasia was close to birthing her first child but, due to a childhood accident, she walked with a heavy limp. She’d gone under a wagon, Borin had told Kira, and had been lucky to survive. But unlucky the accident had happened in Sarnia, thought Kira, where bone-setters were frowned upon and unskilled. Atasia’s limp came from a badly mended pelvis, and that was going to make the birth difficult.

  The door was opened by Atasia’s mother, Matice. ‘Thank Meros you’ve come,’ she exclaimed. ‘I think it’s begun.’

  ‘But she has another moon to go,’ said Kira, struggling to adjust her eyes to the house’s dimness.

  The birth had started, and Kira took Atasia’s pain, then settled down to wait. The day wore on and the noise in the street outside ebbed, then Borin arrived home. He was an immense man, as gentle as he was large, and every time the door opened, Kira could hear his deep rumbling voice as he conversed with the Guard.

  Matice came and went, her face etched with worry, and it was almost dawn before the tiny babe slithered safely onto the bed. Matice cried but Atasia laughed with joy, the sound bringing Borin, who cradled his wife in his massive arms, even as she cradled their daughter. It was an image that stayed with Kira as she summonsed the Guard from their dozing, and they made their way back up to the Domain. She was still thinking of it as she passed the Domain stables and saw Kalos in the yard.

  Kira sprinted across the courtyard, dashed up the steps and along the balcony. Her rooms were empty, as were Tierken’s, and she rushed on to the Meeting Hall and flung open the door.

  Tierken was sitting in conversation with Farid, and Kira launched herself into his arms.

  ‘You’re back,’ she cried in delight.

  ‘I’ve been back since midday yesterday.’

  ‘We can finish this later if you wish, Feailner,’ said Farid with a smile, gathering the papers together, but Tierken stopped him.

  ‘We’ll complete it now, Keeper. When I’ve finished here, we’ll take our midday meal together, Kira,’ he said, setting her down dismissively, his attention back on the records.

  Feeling awkward and foolish in front of Farid, Kira made her way to the door. Tierken was annoyed that she hadn’t been here waiting for him, she sensed, but she’d waited for him every moment since he’d been gone. Weary and disgruntled, Kira returned to her rooms, but she’d scarcely closed the door when there was a knock. She opened it eagerly, half expecting to see Tierken, but it was Guard Storsil.

  ‘My Lady, Tremen Healer Arlen requests you come to the Haelen urgently.’

  Kira hurried across the Domain and down the path to the Haelen, knowing that Arlen would only summon her if something serious had happened.

  Arlen’s expression confirmed her worst fears.

  ‘A badly burned child has been brought, Tremen Leader. A cooking place accident, two days ago.’

  ‘Two days ago?’ panted Kira, chest still heaving as she followed Arlen between the pallets. ‘Why didn’t they –’

  ‘They sought aid from within the city for her first. Some sort of scented lamp oil by the smell of it.’

  Kira wrenched back the curtain to reveal a woman with a face swollen from crying and a man who looked like he hadn’t slept for days. They were embroiled in a harshly whispered argument but fell silent as Kira appeared. The child’s face was so bloated it was impossible to tell she was a girl, and an oily sheen lay over the broken and weeping skin.

  Kira tried to ease the girl’s sleeping-shirt aside, but it was stiff with ooze and took skin with it. Fighting back tears, she instead laid her hands over the top of the material, finding the terrified child already at the end of the tunnel . . . Then Kira was back in the Haelen, swaying, and Arlen caught her arm.

  The girl’s eyes were swollen shut but she moved her hand and the woman gasped.

  ‘She’s no longer in pain,’ said Kira to the parents hoarsely. ‘Speak words of love to her, reassure her, hold her.’

  Then Kira stumbled back through the curtains to the Herbery, grabbed a bowl and was violently ill. She felt worse than usual, and as the room began to blur she let herself slide down the wall, clutching the bowl in front of her.

  Arlen crouched beside her. ‘You look most unwell, Tremen Leader.’

  ‘I feel . . . most unwell,’ said Kira, retching.

  ‘Will you hold down beesblest if I make you some?’

  ‘Just get me some water, Arlen. When I’m feeling better, I’ll go back to the Domain and sleep.’

  Arlen fetched water, but that ended up in the bowl too. Then, despite Kira’s protestations, he lifted her and carried her to a pallet, tucking a cover over her and bringing a clean bowl.

  She needed to go back to the Domain to meet with Tierken – he would be scathing at her lack of punctuality – but she was too weak to get off the pallet. The cover was making her warm and she gave up the struggle and let sleep come.

  29

  It was fully night before Kira woke. Arlen had left a lamp beside the pallet and she picked it up and made her way unsteadily to the alcove where the burned child had been. The girl was dead. That day Kira had seen the joy of Atasia and Borin at the birth of their daughter, and the grief of another mother and father at the death of theirs. Was it Meros’s or Irid’s will that one child should come safely into the world, while another be snatched away? Or just chance – like the spear that missed on
e man but plunged into another?

  As Kira made her way up to the Domain, her thoughts went to the Shargh children who’d never again see their slain fathers. The sky was full of stars, but Kira didn’t share Caledon’s belief in their prescience or his ability to find comfort in them. They looked like shards of ice to her, cold and distant, and as unfeeling as the city’s stone. What did they care for the grief of a mother or father, or for a child’s suffering?

  Kira stopped at the owl fountain as she usually did, and sluiced her hand through the water, thinking of the Drinkwater, of the water fights she’d had with Kandor and Tresen. It was like looking back on someone else’s life, at a person she scarcely recognised or knew.

  ‘Are you going to come up, or stay there all night?’ came Tierken’s voice from the balcony.

  ‘Come up,’ she said, grateful that he didn’t sound angry.

  Her legs ached and, despite her sleep in the Haelen, all she wanted to do was curl up in bed.

  ‘I beg your pardon that I didn’t join you as planned,’ she said when she reached him. ‘I was called to the Haelen.’

  ‘A case beyond the abilities of Healer Arlen?’ asked Tierken.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, given that your skills are the talk of Sarnia, the ill person now rests comfortably?’

  ‘No, she . . .’

  Her belly heaved and Kira dashed to her rooms, just reaching the bowl before vomiting. She was aware of Tierken’s steadying hand, but the nausea continued in waves.

  ‘You took her pain?’ he asked, as she hung panting over the bowl.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I forbade you to do that, not that you ever take any notice,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t think –’

  ‘No, you don’t, do you? How ill will you have to become before you do think – about yourself, and about those who care about you?’

  Kira felt too weak to argue – and she was starting to fear that her illness wasn’t just from taking pain. When she’d first begun clearing the Wastes, her forearm had blistered. At the time she thought she had brushed against nettles, but Niria had since told her of northern plants that spread their poisons through the skin.