Her cheeks burned with shame and frustration.
Egrayne would have the opportunity to betray her tonight, but first they would travel east to a sisterhood winery where they had to collect the gift-tutor. In the meantime, Vittoryxe would have to think up a way to prevent Egrayne reporting her slip, as she was certain she would. After all, why should the gift-warrior protect her? Egrayne was just as ambitious as she was.
When the party reached the top of the next rise, Vittoryxe found Egrayne waiting for her. Her stomach lurched. This was it, the confrontation. While the others rode past, Vittoryxe wished she knew of some transgression she could hold over the gift-warrior to ensure her silence.
Egrayne leant forward in the saddle, elbows resting on the pommel as she stared back the way they’d come. With her long nose and strong jaw, she looked androgynous, like a young T’En man. Vittoryxe wondered if she should seduce Egrayne. It was common for an initiate to form a relationship with an adept as she found her way in the sisterhood. As an initiate, Vittoryxe had made sure all her lovers were useful to her, and she’d never had any complaints. Now that she was an adept, she should be looking for a fellow adept, perhaps someone to link up with as shield-sister. If she chose the right shield-sister, it would empower her as they drew on each other’s gifts, and improve her chances of rising to the top of the sisterhood.
She glanced to Egrayne again, weighing up her usefulness. The idea held some appeal.
And even as she thought this, Vittoryxe saw a reason for Egrayne protecting her. The big gift-warrior desired her. It explained the brooding silence; the way Egrayne watched her when she thought she wasn’t looking.
And to think she’d assumed the big gift-warrior felt threatened by her. This was good, very good.
‘We’re not being followed,’ Egrayne said.
Vittoryxe glanced over her shoulder. The brotherhood party were no longer in sight, lost in the folds of rolling fields. ‘Did you expect them to?’
‘They’re T’En males – all brawn, no brain and full of gift bravado. If one dares another to do something, before you know it, he’s gotten himself killed to impress his peers.’ She looked up at the sky. ‘Not midday yet. We should reach the winery by mid-afternoon. Rather than stay the night, we should collect Lealeni and the lad, and keep going. It’s only three days after winter’s cusp, and both moons are nearly full so there’s plenty of light. I say we keep riding for as long as we can, then make camp for the night. If we’re careful not to overtax the horses, we could make it home in five days instead of six or seven.’
‘Fair enough.’ Vittoryxe agreed. Her lack of gift control niggled at her, and she felt she had to justify herself. ‘He shouldn’t have slipped. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have lost–’
‘Forget it. We all slip sometimes. Your mother’s murder–’
‘My mother had nothing to do with it. She was weak and foolish.’
‘The brotherhood warrior became addicted to your mother’s gift. When she turned down his offer to tryst, he killed her because he could not bear the thought of her trysting with another.’ Egrayne studied her. ‘That was hardly your mother’s fault. And because one T’En man went rogue, it does not mean that all–’
‘All men crave our gifts and hate us because we are more powerful than them.’
‘And we don’t crave their gifts?’
‘I don’t.’
Egrayne raised an eyebrow.
‘I don’t. I want nothing to do with them.’
‘How can you say you don’t crave the male gift, if you’ve never –’
‘I’m not going to put myself in harm’s way. There were two of them, both gift-warriors and probably shield-brothers. The danger was not in my imagination.’
‘No...’
Vittoryxe was reminded how Egrayne had risked her life to protect her.
‘Do you aspire to become the hand-of-force?’ Vittoryxe’s mind raced. If Egrayne filled that role, it would put her out of the running for sisterhood all-mother. ‘You’d be excellent. You’re as big as a man. You’re smart. And you have a way with the young warriors-in-training, both T’En and Malaunje. They admire you. They’d die for you.’
Egrayne gave her a quick look as the colour crept up her pale cheeks.
Without saying a word, the gift-warrior urged her horse to catch up with the others. For a heartbeat, Vittoryxe thought she might have over-played her hand.
‘I aspire to survive,’ Egrayne called over her shoulder.
Vittoryxe shivered. Egrayne was older than her, and had already fulfilled her gift-warrior vow, risking her life to protect this reality from the higher plane. Vittoryxe had trained, but had not yet made her first kill. Not that she wasn’t willing. It was just that predators did not escape the empyrean plane often. When they did, the task of capturing them before they could kill, and dragging them back to the higher plane, was dangerous enough that many gift-warriors had died glorious deaths over the years.
Vittoryxe had no intention of dying, gloriously or otherwise. She was meant for greater things.
Sisterhood all-mother had been her goal since childhood. But now that she thought about it... Maybe even causare.
She whispered the words aloud to see how they felt. ‘Causare Vittoryxe. Embodiment of the cause.’
The thing was... they didn’t have a cause to fight for.
The T’Enatuath hadn’t elected a causare since Imoshen the Negotiator led the brotherhoods and sisterhoods into the final battle against King Charald the Peace-maker.
Back then, it had taken the threat of annihilation before the all-mothers and all-fathers had put aside their rivalries and elected a causare, and Imoshen had stepped down as soon as the treaty was signed.
Still, she was remembered as the greatest all-mother since her namesake, Imoshen the Covenant-maker. Ambition burned in Vittoryxe’s chest, stirring her power, forcing her to practise the gift control exercises as if she was still an initiate, and not an adept of four years.
Vittoryxe hung back from the main party, with the excuse that she was protecting the rear. Meanwhile, she dreamed of becoming Causare Vittoryxe.
But this would only happen if she was all-mother of their sisterhood and their people were threatened. She almost wished they were, so she could rise to the occasion, prove herself worthy and secure her place in history.
Chapter Five
‘HE LIVES!’ ROHAAYEL spun around to hug Ardeyne, pulling Irian into their embrace. ‘My son lives!’
Rohaayel’s gift brushed against Irian’s senses, making colours sharper and scents stronger. He laughed, and suddenly they were all laughing.
The newborn wailed again.
Without another word, Rohaayel ran back to the clearing where the Malaunje had taken a case of the brotherhood’s best white off the cart and were pouring drinks to celebrate.
‘To the future!’ Rohaayel said, lifting his goblet.
Irian drained his wine. He wanted to know what Rohaayel and Ardeyne were hiding from him, but now was not the time to pursue it. Let the all-father celebrate; all too soon, he would have to relinquish his son to a sisterhood.
Rohaayel accepted congratulations, his attention still on the tent. Any moment now, the Malaunje warrior would come out with the child to show him off.
But the tent flap remained closed.
The happy voices gradually faded.
The longer the delay, the more likely something was wrong. A T’En child born of two Malaunje parents had a better chance of being born whole and of sound mind than a T’En babe born of T’En and Malaunje parentage.
The tent flap opened and the warrior appeared. Tiashne seemed shaken. She had killed in defence of their brotherhood. If the sight of the baby had disturbed her, then the news was dire.
Rohaayel headed for the tent. Ardeyne and Irian followed. They were his seconds. With their support, he had won the brotherhood. They would protect his back, even die for him, but they could not protect him from the heartbreak of a deformed son.
<
br /> Inside the tent, the air was rich with the scent of blood and sweat. Tiashne led them through to the small, private chamber, parting curtains to reveal...
‘Mariska.’ Rohaayel ran to her side and dropped to his knees. His devotee lay propped up on cushions, with the newborn tucked in the crook of her arm. Exertion had darkened her copper hair, but her eyes blazed with pride and excitement.
The moment Rohaayel touched his devotee, the air in the tent became charged with his gift as Mariska amplified his power. If a T’En was powerful enough to sustain a devotee, then they in turn became more powerful. Of course, if the devotee died, the T’En was diminished, and if the T’En died, the devotee died with them. The high price a Malaunje devotee paid was the reason this kind of relationship had fallen from favour.
‘My love,’ Rohaayel whispered, kissing Mariska’s forehead with great tenderness. He looked up at the Malaunje warrior. ‘She came through unscathed. Thank you.’ He offered Tiashne his hand to gift-infuse her in gratitude. It was a rare courtesy, a special sign of favour from all-father to brotherhood member, yet the warrior hesitated.
‘Roh,’ Mariska whispered, her voice raw from screaming. She opened the swaddling cloth to reveal the baby. ‘We have a daughter. A perfect, pure T’En girl.’
No one spoke.
They stared at the tiny newborn, all kicking legs and round belly beneath the tied-off cord. There was no mistaking her gender.
It was not unheard of for a T’En man to father a pure T’En female, but it was rare enough that none of them had expected it.
‘A girl?’ Rohaayel repeated.
A girl would not return to the brotherhood and support him. She would join the ranks of the powerful T’En sisterhoods and help to repress the brotherhoods.
Better she had died, but Irian did not say so.
Ardeyne gestured to Tiashne. ‘Leave us, Tia.’
‘A girl,’ Rohaayel marvelled, as the Malaunje warrior gave the correct obeisance, her hands going to her heart to singnify love, then to her forehead to signify duty, before backing out.
‘What will we do now?’ Ardeyne asked.
Irian didn’t understand what he was asking. It was not as if they had a choice. The gender made no difference. If anything, it made honouring the covenant more imperative. He shuddered at the thought of the righteous indignation of the all-mothers...
‘Come,’ Rohaayel said. He sprang to his feet. With a final smile for his devotee, he drew them into the outer chamber. ‘We go ahead with our plan. Don’t you see? This is even better. We say the babe was stillborn and the mother is too ill to move. We–’
‘Keep her? Are you mad?’ Irian could not believe it. ‘What of the covenant? What of your gift-enforced oath? If the all-mothers find out, they’ll strip you of your power. Our own brothers would challenge us for the leadership. They’d kill us out of hand.’
But Rohaayel wasn’t listening. Instead, he spoke to Ardeyne. ‘It’s another three days’ journey to the headland. We signal the lighthouse to send a boat, as planned. We offer our Malaunje warriors a choice. Either they stay on Lighthouse Isle to protect the brotherhood’s investment, or they lower their defences and you erase their memories.’
So this was what they’d been about to tell him. The delays, the journey up the coast road instead of the inland route– it was all part of a larger plan to cheat the sisterhoods of Rohaayel’s T’En son.
Only it wasn’t a boy.
Irian looked to Ardeyne, hoping the voice-of-reason would live up to his name, but he was actually considering it.
‘I don’t know, Roh. A female T’En... She’s helpless now, but one day she’ll be able to kill us with a touch.’
‘If she’s trained. But if she never receives any gift training, she’ll be as ignorant as the first T’En born to Malaunje parents,’ Rohaayel said. ‘Besides, we won’t need to fear her, because she’ll be loyal to us. We’ll be all she ever knows.’
‘I can’t believe you are seriously considering this,’ Irian muttered. They both ignored him. He forged on. ‘This is larger than hiding one child. This breaks the covenant. The all-mothers will have to make an example of us.’ The horror of it strangled his voice. ‘What you suggest will destroy our brotherhood!’
‘No, it will set our brotherhood free.’ Rohaayel turned to him, eyes blazing with visionary fervour. ‘It will free all the brotherhoods.’
‘How? One woman can’t stand against the council of all-mothers. They’d unite against her–’
‘Of course they would,’ Rohaayel said. ‘But think about it. Even though they’re more powerful, we outnumber the women four to one. Why can’t we defeat them?’
‘We can’t trust the other all-fathers,’ Irian said. ‘If we lowered our gift defences, the all-fathers would turn on one another. Each would try to strip the others of power in an attempt to make his own brotherhood the greatest–’
‘Exactly. The women always work together. That’s why they won four hundred years ago. They united, while the all-fathers tore each other apart.’
‘If she’s untrained, how can she be of use to us?’ Ardeyne asked. For once, he was scrambling to keep up. Irian sympathised.
The all-father grinned. ‘When she’s old enough, but before she can begin to make sense of her gift, I’ll send one of our T’En warriors to seduce her. She’ll have a sacrare son. He’ll–’
‘A sacrare male?’ Ardeyne said. ‘There hasn’t been a sacrare male born since before the covenant–’
‘Really?’ Rohaayel’s voice brimmed with bitterness. ‘How do we know?’
Ardeyne was truly shocked. ‘Are you suggesting the all-mothers would murder–’
‘Why not?’ Irian answered, even though the question had been addressed to Rohaayel. This was his area of expertise, defensive strategy. ‘They choose when they tryst with us, so they know they aren’t fertile. If they birthed a sacrare boy, he’d be heir to great power. They couldn’t afford to let such a powerful male return to the brotherhoods. He’d rise to become an all-father. He’d be able to...’ He broke off as the scope of Rohaayel’s vision stole his breath.
‘Exactly. My sacrare grandson will unite the brotherhoods and crush the sisterhoods’ power once and for all. He will set us free.’
Ardeyne gasped, but Irian saw a flaw. ‘T’En women hardly ever carry a healthy baby to term. The chances of two T’En parents producing a healthy child are–’
‘...negligible. I know. This is because we no longer make the deep-bonding to allow the gifts to fuse during conception,’ Rohaayel said. ‘The women don’t want to be vulnerable.’
‘But she won’t know any better,’ Ardeyne said, catching fire. ‘Brilliant, Roh. She’ll accept the deep-bonding because she trusts us. She’ll be able to carry the babe to term.’
‘A sacrare boy, heir to great gifts, trained intensively from the age of thirteen under our gift-tutor, so that he’s ready by the time he is seventeen.’
‘So young?’ Ardeyne said. ‘He won’t have full control of his gift.’
‘He doesn’t need full control. He just needs to be a symbol, to unite the brotherhoods. We’ll be there to guide him.’
‘Thirty-four years,’ Irian said. Seventeen years for the girl to grow up, and another seventeen for the boy. ‘Can we hold the brotherhood together for that long?’
‘It’s not unheard-of for an all-father to rule a brotherhood for thirty years,’ Rohaayel said. ‘We’ll have to invite the strongest of the ambitious males onto our inner circle and let them in on the secret, to win their support.’
‘It is possible,’ Ardeyne said. ‘I swear we can do this.’
‘You’ll have to kill her right after she gives birth,’ Irian said. The other two looked at him in surprise. ‘I’ve read that carrying and birthing a sacrare baby can trigger a maturation of the mother’s gift. Even without training, she could become dangerous.’
‘Why would she be a danger to us, her beloved father and uncles?’ Rohaayel cou
ntered. ‘If we can get one sacrare warrior from her, maybe we can get more.’
‘Roh?’ Mariska called from the entrance to the inner chamber. She stood wrapped in a nightgown, beautiful wine-dark eyes ablaze with hope. ‘Tell me we’re keeping her.’
He strode over, took her face between his hands as if she was made of fine glass and kissed her lips. ‘The brotherhood’s keeping her. You won’t have to give up our baby.’
Tears of relief slid down her cheeks. He kissed them away.
Ardeyne looked across to Irian, confident and proud.
They could do this, Irian realised. They could cheat the all-sisters.
No, it wasn’t cheating – it was reclaiming what was theirs. If the all-sisters hadn’t been so determined to rob them of their sons, this wouldn’t be necessary. With this one daring decision, they would rebuild the very foundations of T’Enatuath society.
‘My clever devotee,’ Rohaayel crooned.
‘What will we call her, Roh?’
‘Imoshen,’ Irian said.
‘What?’ Ardeyne baulked. ‘But–’
Rohaayel laughed.
And Irian laughed along with him, because this Imoshen would undo all that her namesake had achieved.
Let the sisterhoods chew on that!
Chapter Six
OSKANE’S LAST OFFICIAL act as high priest was to appoint his successor. He handed the decree to his personal assistant, Franto. ‘Have six copies made. I will sign them all and apply the official seal. Be sure one copy is kept here with the Father’s church. The remaining six are to be sent to the other churches of the Seven.’ To circumvent any plans Nitzel had of elevating one of his cronies to the position of high priest of the Father and controlling the power of the Seven’s churches.
Small-boned, quick as a sparrow, Franto tilted his head and sent Oskane a wry look. He was already overloaded with preparations to leave the port. ‘Anything else?’
‘Have you secured the servant I mentioned?’ The wet-nurse, but he couldn’t say this in front of his replacement, Edorne.
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