The Cry of the Marwing

by Unknown

  ‘Sarnia will be a green city instead of a stone one, Kira, and the Tremen who live there will share your way of thinking and seeing and bring you comfort. But there are things I can’t change. As Feailner, I must patrol. So I thought you might spend that time in Kessom – when it’s safe to pass Glass Gorge. Eris’s house is mine and Laryia’s now, and yours if you will trust me again, and I know Thalli, Leos and Jafiel would welcome you.’

  He brought his finger under her chin and raised her face to his, as he’d done so many times before. ‘I’ve betrayed you in every possible way, but I’m begging you to trust me again.’

  Kira jerked away, unable to bear the look on his face.

  ‘No,’ she muttered finally, and heard Tierken’s breath slowly empty. ‘No,’ she repeated, bringing her eyes back to his. ‘The fault is not all yours. You were raised Terak, to be as a Terak must. And I was raised Tremen. There will always be this clash.

  ‘If I come north again, Tierken, I will still be Tremen. And while I’ll try not to disgrace you in the Domain, to argue with you in front of your men, or to cause gossip in Sarnia, I won’t succeed. Is that what you really want? More weapons for Rosham and his kind to injure you with? Can you endure that and still want me? Still love me?’

  Tierken brought the back of his fingers gently down her cheek and love shone so brightly from his face that she could scarcely bear to look at him.

  ‘If you come north you will fill the Domain with joy, my men with envy for the grace Irid has granted me, and Sarnia with gratitude for your healing,’ he said. ‘You will make our two peoples truly whole. And you will make me whole, in a way I can never be without you. And I swear to you, in Irid’s name and by his grace, that I will never again fail your trust.’

  Kira gripped her hands to stop their shaking, but the babe was calm, and her resolve strengthened.

  ‘There are seven days till Thanking, Tierken. If you still feel the same way then, I’ll return to Sarnia with you. But I hold you to nothing you’ve said this night, and I’ll tell no one of it. If you reconsider, only we two will ever know.’

  ‘And our child,’ said Tierken hoarsely.

  ‘And our child.’

  63

  The days leading up to Thanking were so busy in the Bough that in the end Kira took refuge in her room to escape the bustle. A steady stream of Tremen brought food from the long-houses, or chairs, or climbed ladders to weave greenery around the ceiling beams or fasten strings of ornate lanterns. Kira was also reluctant to show her bruised face to others, tired of their shocked reactions. But when Laryia lent her a small looking-glass, she at last saw why. The yellowy-green bruises should be gone by Thanking, but the dark blood in her eye would take longer to clear. Still, her vision was normal, and that was all that mattered – that and her child.

  Tenerini had sewn Kira larger shirts and breeches, and a beautifully embroidered tunic to wear at Thanking. Kira was grateful for the clothing, as hers no longer fitted. The size of the babe suggested it must be at least six moons, and it would be seven by the time she reached Sarnia – if she went.

  As the days had passed, Kira’s dismay at having broken her undertaking to remain in Allogrenia grew. Tierken loved and wanted her and she’d yearned to end his pain, but she still feared that, in the longer term, she might have worsened it instead. Nor could she pretend that her agreement had only been for his sake. As she mulled over her reasons for it each night, Palansa and Ersalan’s plight kept coming back to her.

  Ersalan would grow without his father, and Palansa must endure a future without her bondmate. But Kira still had a chance for happiness, and in the shadow of Wessogren – where the happiness of so many others had ended – she had reached out and snatched it, both for her own sake and for their child’s.

  But she remained mystified as to why Tierken would again risk damage to his feailnership. At least she’d had the strength of will to leave the final decision on their future to him, and he may well have changed his mind, for she’d barely seen him since their return from Wessogren.

  Laryia had said that he was at Kashclan, and then Miken had told her a few days later that he was in discussions with Kest at the Warens, then Tresen had said that he was out with the Terak patrolmen.

  And the northern Feailner seems to be in a very good mood, Tresen had added, eyeing Kira speculatively.

  Kira had made no response, knowing from Laryia’s coolness that Tierken had kept to their agreement not to discuss the possibility of her going north with others. However, as Thanking drew nearer, and with it her appointment with the Clancouncil, Kira forgot about Laryia’s aloofness and even Tierken’s absence. It was the right of the Clancouncil to pass judgement on her and, whichever way Kira looked at it, she hadn’t acted well. She had fled Allogrenia – and her responsibilities there – without seeking the council’s permission; she hadn’t returned when the fighting had finished; and then she’d gone to the Shargh, again without their approval.

  Kira had never wanted the leadership, but nor did she want to relinquish it knowing she had disappointed those who had argued for her and, worse, betrayed their trust. She spent much time rehearsing explanations for her actions, but they increasingly sounded like excuses. In the end, she gave up. It was impossible to put into words now – when the forest was disturbed by nothing more than squabbling tippets and springleslips – the desperation of the times that had impelled her actions. All she could do was hope that at least some of the Clanleaders had memories of it too.

  Tierken didn’t return to the Bough until the evening before Thanking, and Kira was dozing on her bed when he knocked on the door and came in. He kissed her gently on the forehead, each cheek and, as she came awake, on the mouth. Kira curled her hand around his neck and drew him close, luxuriating in his kisses, and in the feel and sense of him. Having him near, having his love, was the most wondrous thing the world could offer.

  ‘Are you well?’ he murmured.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And our babe?’ asked Tierken.

  ‘Him too,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘Him?’

  ‘It’s amazing how much advice you get when you’re carrying,’ said Kira. ‘Apparently boys bring more sickness early and kick more. And I hope it’s a son, for I know you need an heir.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. There will be others.’

  ‘You haven’t reconsidered?’

  ‘Whether I want to breathe, my heart to beat, to have joy and love in my life? No, though I’ve thanked Irid many times for your gift. We leave the day after Thanking, if you’re agreeable. I’ve sent message to Marin to prepare.’

  ‘So soon,’ said Kira in dismay.

  ‘I’ve been away a long time,’ said Tierken. ‘And it will take over a moon to reach Sarnia, for we must travel slowly. By then the babe will be at least seven moons and riding dangerous for you.’

  ‘Seven moons? How do you know?’

  ‘I remember the last time we made love,’ he said. ‘I remember all the times we made love. The babe could be even older than that, but I hope not. I want you safely in Sarnia before the birth nears. I’ve sent scouts back to prepare the Domain and with message for Farid to send to Kessom for birthing-women.’

  Kira sat up and pushed her hand through her hair, discomfited by Tierken’s knowing being greater than hers. The plans Tierken had put into place also made her departure to Sarnia frighteningly real.

  ‘You should sleep now,’ he said. ‘The morrow will be long and I know parts of it will be difficult for you, though I hope they will be balanced by more enjoyable things.’

  He smiled, and there was a chink as he set something on the table beside the bed. ‘Kasheron’s ring. I think it fitting that it stays here, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. It belongs with the people he established. I thank you, Tierken.’

  Tierken’s lips brushed her forehead again. ‘Sleep, Kira.’

  64

  Early the next morn the councillors filed in to the mee
ting room, greeting each other briefly as they took their seats. The room was crowded, and all but filled by the large table and the councillors’ chairs, making it very different to the last council Kira had presided over. Someone, Tresen most likely, had decided that it would be better to hold councils less publicly and so a separate meeting room had been built in the new Bough. And it made sense, for the hall was where Tresen and Laryia took their meals, where their children would one day play, and where the injured or ill came to seek cure. It was also where Kest, Tresen and Tierken now waited.

  Kira kept a polite smile on her face as each councillor nodded to her, glanced at her belly, then struggled to hide their reaction. The councillors looked the same as she remembered, except for Dakresh, who had aged terribly and now needed a steady-stick to walk. The change was due to the loss of Bern, Kira guessed, and instead of fearing his irascibility, she began to pity him.

  Silence fell and Kira rose and delivered the formal words of welcome, surprised at how calm she felt. At her first Clancouncil she’d been almost sick with nerves. Then she sat and Marren rose and gave the council’s response. She was about to rise again, but before she could do so, Kemrick stood.

  ‘I’m sure the council will waive protocol, Tremen Leader, and allow you to remain seated,’ he said.

  There was a murmur of agreement and Kira thanked him, for at that moment the babe had inconveniently decided to direct its kicks up under her lungs, making her breathless.

  ‘As you know from the message . . . I sent south with Healer Tresen . . . I am intending to relinquish the leadership . . . at this council,’ began Kira, snatching breaths between the kicks.

  Marren was the first to rise. ‘A course of action we are hoping to dissuade you from,’ he said. ‘You remain our best Healer and Kasheron intended the best Healer to lead the Bough.’

  Berendash sprang up next. ‘A situation where we have our best Healer living outside the Bough might also undermine the authority of the Leader who resides within it. Are you intending to remain in Allogrenia, Healer Kiraon?’

  ‘I am intending to resign the leadership,’ repeated Kira, meeting his eyes.

  There was a brief silence, then Kemrick took to his feet. ‘The Shargh attacks brought you to the leadership in the most terrible way, Leader Kiraon. And since then you have seen and experienced things no other Tremen has. Some of these things are known to us, but in an imperfect way – tales spread by the volunteers or their clanmates. Would you tell us what occurred beyond the trees? I think it’s important that all Tremen have an accurate understanding of this part of their histories.’

  Kira nodded, realising Kemrick was right. So, taking care that her gaze travelled around all the councillors, she began to recount her reasons for leaving Allogrenia in the first place, her meeting with Caledon in the Azurcades, her going to Maraschin, and her healing there. She told of Caledon’s advice that their northern kin wouldn’t own them, causing at least one of the councillors to hiss, but Kira pressed on, telling of her reasons for sending Caledon to seek Tremen volunteers, of her capture by the Shargh, then of her rescue by the northern Leader.

  The councillors’ horror told Kira that most knew nothing of her capture. She told of going north with the Terak – careful to emphasise the Terak’s kindness and protection – and then of Caledon’s skill in bringing the Terak and Tain, and then the Tremen, together against the Shargh. She told of establishing the Haelen in Sarnia, of the Terak histories that spoke of Kasheron’s folk going over the seas, and the manner of life of the Tremen’s forebears in Kessom. And she told of her joy at the ending of the fighting.

  Kira paused then and licked her lips, wondering how best to speak of what followed. ‘I didn’t immediately come back,’ she began, her eyes drawn to Miken’s sympathetic face. ‘I was unwell for a time from the long moons of healing.’ At least that part was true. ‘And I was confident that Healer Tresen was skilled enough to take my place here. Also, I had developed . . . affection for the northern Feailner.’

  She dragged her eyes from Miken but the other councillors’ expressions were merely expectant, her relationship with Tierken obviously known to them.

  ‘The northern Feailner recognised the kin-link and opened to the Tremen the part of Sarnia that would have belonged to Kasheron and his followers. That was a difficult thing for him to do, for many in the north still believe that Kasheron went over the seas, and there is no love for Kasheron. It was one of the reasons I found it hard to live there and so decided to return.

  ‘I journeyed with the Lord Caledon, but on the way we came across a Shargh woman with a sick child –’

  ‘Shargh! Where?’ broke in Marren.

  ‘Near the northern edge of the forest,’ said Kira. ‘Afterwards, I –’

  ‘You informed Protector Commander Kest?’ asked Marren.

  ‘Kest knew it was one of the reasons I went to the Shargh,’ said Kira.

  There was a stunned silence.

  ‘So that’s the real reason the last Clancouncil was suddenly cancelled,’ exclaimed Kemrick.

  ‘Going to the Shargh was an act of treachery,’ growled Dakresh.

  ‘Withdraw that remark,’ demanded Miken.

  ‘He merely states the truth,’ interjected Berendash.

  ‘He insults the Leader and should withdraw it,’ said Sanden, then there was a jumble of speech as the other councillors offered contradictory opinions, their volume increasing as they sought to be heard.

  In the hall outside, Tierken sprang from his seat and strode to the door of the council room, Kest and Tresen hastening after him.

  ‘You can’t break protocol by entering,’ warned Tresen.

  Tierken’s face was like thunder. ‘If they distress Kira . . .’

  ‘Kira’s dealt with the council before,’ said Kest, exchanging glances with Tresen. ‘The worse they can do is reprimand her.’

  ‘Reprimand her? What in Irid’s name for?’

  ‘The Tremen Leader is not free to do exactly what he or she wants,’ said Tresen. ‘They are required to take advice from the council and to keep them informed as to their intentions.’

  ‘And that’s what her father Maxen did?’

  ‘You underestimate Kira’s ability to look after herself,’ interrupted Kest, ignoring Tierken’s question.

  Tierken’s brows lowered and then Kira’s bellow for quiet sounded from beyond the door. ‘See?’ said Kest with a smile.

  The councillors paused in their shouting and Kira seized the moment to order an end to their argument, gratified to see them obey.

  ‘Brutality doesn’t breed peace, councillors, it breeds more brutality,’ she said, staring at each in turn. ‘And all women grieve for their dead bondmates. The babe I carry is the same as the one a Shargh woman carries, its needs for food, shelter and love, the same.

  ‘If it grows without these things, it grows with hate, and once grown it reaches for the sword. I went to the Shargh to show that there were things other than swords that we of northern blood could offer them. And although I found hatred, I also found a want for peace, the very reason Kasheron brought us south.

  ‘I will not beg this council’s pardon for having gone to the Shargh. It was a decision made with full knowledge of the possible consequences.’

  Berendash rose slowly to his feet. ‘And what of the consequences of the Shargh holding you hostage against us, Tremen Leader? It would be a betrayal of every dead and wounded Tremen. Did you consider that?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And how did you intend to prevent it?’

  ‘By using everest.’

  There was a hiss, as if every councillor had released their breath simultaneously. Even Miken looked shocked.

  ‘The Protectors who fought, and the volunteers who went north, carried knives and swords to protect themselves and their comrades. I carried a Healer’s weapon, but I wasn’t forced to use it, for the Shargh released me.’

  ‘Badly beaten,’ pointed out Marren.

>   ‘I was beaten by the violent and hateful among them, and released by those with a wanting for peace,’ said Kira. ‘If it means that in the future there are more of the latter, then my beating won’t have been in vain.’

  No one spoke, the mood in the room sombre, and it was Kira who broke the silence.

  ‘I thank you, councillors, for inviting me to tell you of how the events beyond the trees unfolded,’ she said. ‘But time draws on and I know you have much business to attend to before the happy celebrations of Thanking this evening. I wish now to renounce the leadership, but you will have to forgive my ignorance as to the correct procedure for doing so.’

  Kemrick rose. ‘I do not think any among us know how it is to be done,’ he said. ‘But before you do relinquish it, I would like to thank you, Tremen Leader Feailner Kiraon of Kashclan, for all you have done for Allogrenia and its people. Never since Kasheron’s time has so much been asked of a Tremen Leader, nor, do I believe, has such courage and fortitude been shown by one. Whatever the individual judgements of the councillors here, you have acted according to values Kasheron held most dear – those of wholeness and healing – and while I regret that you will no longer lead us, I believe you are richly deserving of the happiness which I hope awaits you.’

  Kira nodded, too moved to speak.

  Then Miken rose, holding a small wooden box. ‘May I suggest, councillors, that we pass the box to the Leader in the same way as we did when she became Leader, so that now she may replace the ring of rulership? It would be a fitting ceremony of renunciation, I believe.’

  There was a murmur of agreement and Miken went to Marren – who was sitting at Kira’s left – and handed him the box, then it was solemnly passed from hand to hand around the table to Tenedren, who sat at Kira’s right and passed it to her. Kira slid back the lid, the red cloth still shocking, slipped the ring from her pocket and placed it in the box. For a moment she stared at it, then she snapped the lid shut.