The Cry of the Marwing

by Unknown

  ‘State your business,’ the Leader ordered.

  Given that the Leader had used Tremen, not Onespeak, he must know they were Terak, and Tierken wondered whether Kest was a man who enjoyed authority for its own sake.

  ‘I’ve come to visit my sister, the Lady Laryia,’ said Tierken.

  The Leader stared at Tierken closely, and the change in him was dramatic. He barked orders and the swords were withdrawn.

  ‘Welcome to Allogrenia, Terak Feailner,’ he said, bowing low.

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘Protector Leader Lis,’ said the man. ‘Protector Commander Kest has ordered all available Protectors to the northern octads, so I regret that I can’t deviate from my patrol. But I’ll assign you a guide, as the forest can be difficult to navigate for the stranger. It will also reduce the tedium of continually explaining your presence to other patrols, Terak Feailner.’

  ‘I thank you, Protector Leader,’ said Tierken, his opinion of the man improving.

  Tierken wondered why Kest had sent Protectors north, and determined to ask their guide, Protector Aris, later. Aris also had the look of Morclan, and although excited and curious about Tierken and his men, was disciplined enough to respond only to Tierken’s questions, rather than ask his own.

  Nevertheless, Tierken took the opportunity to describe Terak ways to Aris, realising that the Protector would share his knowing with others. Thus, after Aris had listened to Tierken issue orders in Terak, Illian and Kir as they set camp that night, Tierken had explained how Prince Terak had brought the disparate peoples together after the Sundering. Aris had managed to keep his face expressionless and his mouth shut – no mean feat, thought Tierken, recalling Kira’s early antagonism and the Terak Kutan slurs that had marred the first days of the Terak and Tremen fighting together.

  The next day Tierken asked Aris about food plants, and soon had the opportunity to taste some withered sour-ripe – too late in autumn, Aris had said – and pitchie seeds – you have to be very hungry, Aris had commented as Tierken spat them out. But Tierken didn’t ask about Kira. If the news were ill, he’d rather hear it from Laryia.

  They passed another allogrenia, also known as the Fourth Eight, or Fourth Enogren. Enogren was a contraction of ‘East–North alwaysgreen,’ Aris explained as they walked on.

  As the days of travel passed, Tierken tasted more of Allogrenia’s food, including various types of nuts, some less withered sour-ripe, and mundleberries, which he had to admit were tasty. They also came into contact with two more patrols, adding to Tierken’s disquiet at the large number of men Kest had out under the trees. However, Aris proved reluctant to answer specific questions about the deployment of the patrols.

  ‘The scouts know you are here, Terak Feailner, and the news of your arrival is being passed between patrols. As soon as it reaches Protector Commander Kest, he will likely divert to join us. He is the best person to discuss Protector matters with you.’

  They had long passed the Second Eight when Kest appeared, and there was no mistaking who he was. He strode from the trees to Tierken’s left, looking as battle-hardened as any Terak, exchanging words with Aris before greeting Tierken.

  ‘Welcome to Allogrenia, Terak Feailner,’ he said with a bow.

  Tierken rolled his shoulder to dispel the tension the unexpected appearance of an armed man had caused, annoyed that he’d again failed to see or hear any approach.

  ‘I thank you, Protector Commander Kest,’ returned Tierken.

  ‘You travel with just half a patrol?’ said Kest, staring at the Terak.

  ‘The other half wait on the forest’s edge with the horses.’

  Kest nodded. ‘You’re less than half a day from Enogren – the First Eight – and I’ve ordered Aris to rejoin his patrol once you reach it. The path is well marked from there to the Bough, where your sister resides. The Terak patrols you assigned are stationed around the Bough, so no doubt will meet you there. I must return to my patrol, but expect to be at the Bough in six to seven days. We can discuss whatever matters you wish then.’

  ‘Is the Lord Caledon at the Bough?’ asked Tierken.

  ‘The Lord Caledon is at the Kashclan longhouse, a quarter day’s walk south-east of the Bough.’

  With a nod, Kest set off through the trees.

  Tierken’s relief that Caledon was still in Allogrenia was so great that he was barely aware he’d forgotten to ask Kest why he had so many patrols out. And as he went on, he realised that Caledon might actually be living with Kira at the Kashclan longhouse. The thought was daunting, but even were it the case, at least it meant that Kira was still in the forest.

  It was a dewy dawn when Tierken finally reached the circle of cleared land surrounding the Bough. He had left his men with the patrols guarding Laryia, who, in Kest’s absence, were under Anvorn’s command. The reunions had been joyful, the men who’d been in Allogrenia for the past moons eager for news of the north.

  During their travel, Aris had proudly told how the rebuilt Bough was even more beautiful than the original. But as Tierken surveyed it, he recalled that this was the place where Kira’s father and three brothers had been slaughtered, and where she had barely escaped with her life. And if it were a faithful reproduction of the first Bough, he could see why the Shargh attack had been so successful. Windows lined the sides, and the opening at the end was so large it needed double doors.

  However, the absence of a gloomy canopy cheered him as he made his way towards the building, and he wondered whether scouts had alerted Laryia to his arrival. Given Kest’s focus on patrolling, it seemed unlikely, and Tierken smiled as he knocked, anticipating Laryia’s happy surprise.

  He heard her light step, its distinctive pattern etched into his memory from her comings and goings along the balcony at the Domain, then the door opened. She was more beautiful than he remembered, her clear brown eyes wide in astonishment. Then with a cry Laryia threw herself into his arms, her tears soaking the shirt on his shoulder, and her belly nudging against him.

  ‘You’re carrying,’ he gasped.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘Oh, Tierken, I’ve missed you so much.’

  She drew him from the chill air into the hall. It was massive, with soaring beams covered in carvings.

  ‘I could do with a mug of cotzee,’ he said.

  ‘So could I,’ she said shakily, leading the way to an enormous table next to the cooking place. ‘But unless you’ve brought some with you, you’ll have to make do with thornyflower tea.’

  ‘Thornyflower tea it is,’ he said, looking around. Despite the size, the layout looked like the Keshall.

  ‘Tresen still sleeping?’ he asked.

  ‘Gathering with Miken,’ said Laryia, raking up the coals and setting a wooden pan on top.

  Then she sat opposite and took his hands. ‘Tierken –’

  ‘You must have been carrying when you left Sarnia,’ interrupted Tierken, reluctant suddenly to broach the subject that had gnawed at him for moons and driven him here.

  ‘I was,’ said Laryia.

  The water began to bubble and she rose and filled their cups, then came back to her seat.

  ‘I met Protector Commander Kest on the way in from the forest’s edge,’ said Tierken.

  ‘What did he say?’ asked Laryia sharply.

  ‘Not much. He was in a hurry to return to his patrol. He did tell me that the Lord Caledon was at the Kashclan longhouse though.’

  ‘He is,’ confirmed Laryia, anxious eyes fixed on his.

  ‘With Kira?’

  ‘No.’

  The relief was exquisite, but Laryia’s distress was plain.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked, alarm building.

  ‘Kira’s gone, Tierken.’

  ‘Gone?’

  ‘She’s gone to the Shargh.’

  53

  Tierken strode up and down, barely aware of doing so. Of all the things he’d feared, nothing could have prepared him for this. He had three patrols south with him,
and Kalos waited on the forest’s edge. He could all but feel the power of the stallion beneath him, the strength in his sword arm as he slashed down, the satisfying spray of Shargh blood. But even if he attacked in full force, he wouldn’t reach Kira before a Shargh blade did.

  How they must be salivating as they planned how to wring every last concession from those who’d defeated them. In having her, they thought they had everything, and they did – everything that gave joy and meaning to his life. But, as he glanced at Laryia, with her dark anxious eyes and her hands folded over her belly, he knew that he couldn’t sacrifice what had been won for Kira. And so, in the end, it wouldn’t be the Shargh who killed her, it would be him.

  ‘Kira said that if she were to return, it would be before the full moon,’ said Laryia in a small voice.

  ‘She won’t return.’

  ‘What will you do, Tierken?’

  ‘I’ll take the Terak patrols and wipe the Shargh Grounds from the maps. I’ll slaughter every last one of them, kill every ebis and cut down every tree. I’ll scour their filth from the land so thoroughly that no one will ever know they existed. The pyre will be visible from the north, the flames so high that the Tain will think that all the world burns. Then I’ll go back to Sarnia, and when your first son is born, you’ll bring him north to be trained to take my place.’

  ‘Tresen won’t want to leave here.’

  ‘Tresen will go where you go, or else you’ll leave him behind with his own kind. We’ll let the forests close over them again, Laryia, let things be as they were.’

  ‘You accepted the kin-link, Tierken.’

  ‘For Kira’s sake. Sarnia will remain open to them, even though I have no need of Kasheron’s folk.’

  ‘Kira asked that no revenge be taken, for her sake,’ said Laryia. ‘She said –’

  Laryia stopped as the Bough door opened and Miken and Tresen appeared.

  Miken and Tresen had come across scouts and the scouts’ news had brought them swiftly back to the Bough. Now, as Miken waited to greet the northern Feailner, at least one of the reasons for Kira’s bonding was clear. Despite his dark hair and skin, Tierken had Kandor’s face. But he also looked pure Terak Kutan, less tall and muscular than the Terak patrols that lurked near the Arborean, but deadlier.

  Laryia had obviously told Tierken of Kira’s departure, and every sinew of his body reeked murderous intent, his hand resting on one of the many knives at his belt as he received Tresen’s formal greeting.

  Tresen finished, then Miken stepped forward and bowed. ‘Welcome to Allogrenia, Tierken,’ he said.

  ‘I thank you.’

  ‘I’ve long wanted to speak to you of Kira,’ said Miken.

  ‘It’s too late for that.’

  ‘We still have some time before the full moon, and as the Leader of Kira’s clan, and as someone who loves her as a father, I’m keen that the reasons for her actions are properly understood. If she has gone to her death, then I want her memory to be honoured, and only the truth is capable of doing that.’

  ‘I’ll not share a roof with the Tallien.’

  ‘There’s no need to come to my longhouse. We can take a walk together, if you will.’

  Tierken nodded abruptly and Miken led him outside and turned north, his only intention to choose a route with the least risk of meeting Caledon. In his present mood, Tierken would likely kill Caledon, whether Caledon was armed or not. Tierken’s shock at Kira’s loss had crystallised into anger and blame, and while his anger still looked for an outlet, he’d certainly found one for the blame.

  As they strode along the Drinkwater Path, Miken realised that the Warens would actually be the best place in Allogrenia to take Tierken. It was where the Protectors trained and lived, and it was probably the only aspect of Tremen life that Tierken would have any affinity with.

  They went in silence, and it was Tierken who finally broke it. ‘You said you’d speak of Kira, Clanleader.’

  ‘And I will,’ said Miken. ‘The Drinkwater’s a pleasant place to sit, and is only a little ahead. In the early days, Kasheron’s people carted their drinking water from it. Hence the name.’

  Tierken made no reply but Miken was relieved to see that some of his tension had eased. By the time they reached the Drinkwater, Tierken might even be amenable to words, rather than weapons.

  When they came to the river Miken led him along its bank to where a tumble of pale boulders lay exposed and they sat down.

  Miken was about to begin when he glanced down. ‘You wear Kasheron’s ring!’ he gasped in shock.

  ‘Kira sent it to me when Commander Pekrash was killed and I took command of the Tremen,’ said Tierken. ‘I’ll hand it back before I leave. Terak Feailners have no need of rings to mark their rulership.’

  Tierken’s profile was identical to Kira’s and Kandor’s, and Miken’s shock deepened.

  ‘Why did Kira break your bonding?’ he blurted, robbed of his carefully planned words.

  ‘Surely she told you.’

  ‘Kira said she persuaded you to bond against your better judgement, but Laryia said your preference was for the more permanent system of marriage.’

  ‘It’s irrelevant now.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘No one walks out of Shargh settlements, Clanleader.’

  ‘With respect, you’ve only lost Kira once, Tierken, whereas I’ve lost her three times. When Kira first left to seek help from you, our kin, the quest was so perilous that we believed her dead. There was great rejoicing when news came that she lived. We . . . I . . . expected her to return, but then Tresen told us she’d bonded to you and was to remain in the north. So I lost her a second time. And then, unlooked for, she returned, only to leave again. The experience has taught me to hold onto hope for as long as possible.’

  ‘You tell me nothing I don’t already know,’ said Tierken, getting to his feet.

  ‘Very well,’ said Miken, rising also. ‘I will tell you something that only Kira, Kest and I know. Something that so shamed Kira that she forced Kest to pledge to keep it secret. I guessed what it was, but I’ve not even told Tenerini. I understand that it may seem like a small thing to you, Tierken, being of Terak’s line, but it isn’t to those of us who Kasheron seeded, whose abhorrence of violence permeates every part of our lives. Nor was it a small thing to Kira.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Kira has a faint scar under her right cheekbone.’

  ‘I know it.’

  ‘It was a cut caused by the ring you wear, inflicted when the ring adorned her father’s hand. The Tremen do not strike each other, Tierken; even men who have drunk too much withyweed ale do not come to blows. It takes Kest many moons in the Warens to get Protectors to raise swords to each other. For a parent to strike a child is unheard of, and for the Healer Leader – who embodies all Kasheron believed in – to inflict violence on anyone, least of all his own daughter, is the ultimate act of betrayal, of her, and of us.’

  Miken fought to steady but Tierken didn’t notice, thinking of his and Kira’s final argument. He’d replayed the scene in the Meeting Hall over and over again, because it had been the last time he had seen her. She’d left him, Tierken had concluded, because it had been one quarrel too many on top of his unrelenting demands.

  But now he saw it differently. In their other arguments, she’d flung as many insults as he had, and even when he’d been sufficiently incensed to lay hands on her – as he had at the Breshlin and in Kessom – she’d been uncowed.

  However, in that last argument, she hadn’t retaliated. She’d simply looked at him with an expression he hadn’t understood – until now.

  ‘Why tell me this, Clanleader?’ he asked harshly. ‘You must know that I came here to take Kira back with me. If, by some extraordinary gift of Irid’s grace she survives the Shargh, you’ll lose her a fourth time.’

  ‘When Kasheron and his folk came to the forest, they were so enamoured with the springleslips that they kept them confined. But as the sea
sons went by and they grew to love the trees and the dance of sunlight before the wind, they were content to leave the springleslips free. I love Kira, but for her to be happy, she must be allowed to be as she is.’

  ‘Even if it kills her?’

  ‘Sometimes the springleslip is taken by the owl, Tierken, but it dies in flight, wings outstretched in the warm, emerald air, not crouched in the bottom of a cage.’

  54

  A chill wind cut down from the Braghans and Tarkenda shivered as she and Palansa made their way to Arkendrin’s sorcha for the Speak. Palansa wore the circlet of chiefship and Ormadon followed with the ceremonial hide and Erboran’s flatswords and spears.

  By rights, the Speak should have been held in the Chief’s sorcha, but Palansa had agreed to hold it in Arkendrin’s, despite it strengthening his claims to the chiefship. Palansa wanted to avoid exposing Ersalan and Kira to Arkendrin’s loathsome gaze, and it was a measure of Palansa’s trust in Kira that she’d left Ersalan in her care, both now guarded by Erlken and his lesser blood-ties.

  Tarkenda knew that most of the Shargh’s knowing of the Telling was as thin as wood smoke, and that this would aid Arkendrin. He would likely argue that it was the Healer’s seeing of the ‘setting sun’ that had triggered the Shargh’s destruction, and that only her death could end their suffering. He might also suggest that the Healer had tainted Tarkenda, Palansa and Ersalan with her foulness, and that they too must be destroyed.

  Arkendrin still had admirers and he could call on hate and fear to strengthen his cause, whereas she and Palansa were hampered by being women. All they could do was to argue that the Sky Chiefs – in their wisdom and care for the Shargh – had guided the Healer to Ersalan to continue his healing, so that the Shargh could continue to be blessed by a rightful and first-born Chief. To harm the Healer would be to treat the Sky Chiefs’ beneficence with contempt, an insult that wouldn’t go unpunished.