Besieged (The Outcast Chronicles)

by Rowena Cory Daniells

  ‘What have you been up to, Kyredeon?’ Ekanyn asked.

  ‘Ensuring you’ll win.’

  ‘But what do you get out of this?’

  ‘Let me guess,’ Hariode, Ekanyn’s shield-brother, said. ‘He wants to be hand-of-force.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Kyredeon agreed. ‘Divide all-father and voice-of-reason between the pair of you. I’ll take hand-of-force.’

  ‘Done.’

  ‘Done.’

  Graelen backed silently out onto the verandah.

  ‘You’ve gone white,’ Paryx said. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Come with me.’ They sped back to the new part of the palace. When they reached the deserted upper floor, Graelen explained. ‘So we have to make sure Fraysun doesn’t leave the roof.’

  But they found the door open and the roof top deserted.

  ‘His lover must have come after all,’ Paryx whispered. ‘Now what’ll we do?’

  Graelen cursed. Unless they acted swiftly, Kyredeon’s challenge would fail and all his supporters would be purged. ‘Come with me.’

  IRIAN LIFTED HIS wine glass. ‘To the sacrare, and the end of the covenant.’

  Rohaayel, Ardeyne and the others played along, raising their glasses.

  One of the kitchen hands opened the door, backing in with a tray. He looked surprised to see more T’En men, and he stiffened as he felt the gift readiness on the air.

  ‘Tell cook there’ll be another eight for dinner,’ Rohaayel said. ‘And bring more glasses.’

  ‘And more wine,’ Irian added, feigning bonhomie.

  Still Mefusun did not let down his guard.

  ‘Irian, what do you think of Rohdeyne, for the sacrare’s name?’ Rohaayel asked.

  ‘Why not Bedian?’ Bedettor suggested.

  ‘He’s my grandson, I get first naming rights,’ Rohaayel said. ‘Isn’t that right, Mefusun?’

  The kitchen hand returned with a tray of goblets and more wine. As he left, Rohaayel came to his feet and gestured to Torekar. ‘Pour wine for everyone.’

  Mefusun came over to the table with his supporters and accepted the wine.

  Irian had already decided who he would kill first.

  ‘To this glorious day and our brotherhood.’ Rohaayel met Irian’s eyes and he knew this was the moment.

  Dropping his goblet, Irian pulled his long-knives. His gift surged, heightening his senses. Time slowed; he anticipated strikes before they came. He gutted one warrior, cut another’s throat, felt something slam into his back, staggered, but kept moving. Lost one knife in someone’s ribs, then lost the other when a blow broke his arm.

  He saw Bedettor get his throat cut before he could segue to the higher plane with his two attackers, then drag them along anyway, ripping their shades from their bodies. There was no yelling, just grunts and thuds, gasps of pain. He saw Torekar go down, trying to save Ardeyne.

  He saw Rohaayel stagger as his shield-brother died.

  Mefusun leapt for the all-father, who ducked. One-handed, Irian caught Mefusun by his hair and slammed his face onto the table top, until he stopped moving.

  That was the last of them.

  Irian looked across the bloody chamber to Rohaayel, who was clutching his side. Blood seeped between his fingers. A whimper made Irian turn. The cook, and several of the kitchen hands, stood terrified in the doorway.

  ‘Cook, go check on Imoshen and Reothe,’ Rohaayel ordered. ‘Did Mefusun bring any Malaunje with him?’

  ‘There were some,’ one of the kitchen hands said.

  ‘Tell them they have the option of renewing their oaths to me or dying with Mefusun,’ Rohaayel said.

  Irian could not believe they’d both survived. By wiping out Mefusun and all his supporters, they’d purged the brotherhood of aspirants for the leadership. They could rebuild the inner circle.

  ‘Burn the bodies of the traitors,’ Rohaayel ordered. ‘Our dead will be properly honoured.’

  As they followed his orders, Rohaayel came over to Irian. He moved with care, grimacing in pain. Irian couldn’t seem to get his breath. When he inhaled his back hurt. A cough surprised him and blood bubbled out of his mouth.

  ‘Roh?’ He reached for the all-father as he toppled forward. Rohaayel caught him, staggering with his weight. Irian must have blacked out; the next thing he knew, he was propped up in a chair in front of the fire.

  ‘...she’s not there,’ the cook told Rohaayel. ‘None of them are. She can’t have gone far with a newborn. I’ve sent the lads out looking for her.’

  ‘Roh.’ Irian wanted to ask after his son, who he hadn’t seen since he was born, but he couldn’t catch his breath. He coughed again. Bright blood poured from his mouth.

  The all-father came over and caught his hand. ‘Don’t worry. They’ll find Imoshen. She’s probably hiding. Very wise.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Irian whispered. ‘I failed you.’

  ‘No...’ Rohaayel shook his head, tears in his eyes.

  One of the kitchen hands came running in with a soggy travelling bundle. He reported to the cook, who looked worried.

  ‘What is it?’ Rohaayel asked, rising to his feet.

  The cook came over with the wet bundle. ‘They found this down in the shallows. It’s Imoshen’s blanket. There’s three dead Malaunje, an overturned boat, a missing boat and...’ Her mouth worked as her voice broke. ‘Reothe’s body.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Rohaayel whispered.

  ‘She tried to sail away. The boat tipped over. She drowned.’

  ‘But there’s no body,’ Rohaayel insisted.

  The cook shook her head. ‘The current...’

  ‘The missing boat–’

  ‘Could have broken its moorings and been taken by the current.’

  ‘The baby?’

  ‘No sign of him, or Frayvia or Iraayel. No sign of Imoshen.’

  Rohaayel swayed and Irian lost feeling in his legs.

  Lost. Everything, lost...

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  AS GRAELEN SEARCHED for Fraysun, his mind raced. He hadn’t seen the hand-of-force on his way up here, which meant he must have gone down the other steps.

  Several moments later they spotted him halfway along the corridor, only two doors from the all-father’s chamber.

  ‘Hand-of-force?’ Graelen called.

  Fraysun turned. ‘Grae?’

  ‘I was down below.’ He gulped a breath. ‘Near the boat-house gate. I heard voices and caught the scent of gift-working.’

  ‘Near the boat-house gate?’

  Graelen nodded. ‘I didn’t recognise the voices.’

  ‘You think they’re from another brotherhood?’

  Fraysun glanced to Paryx, who said nothing. He was trying to catch his breath. His surging gift betrayed his fear, which fitted in with Graelen’s story.

  The hand-of-force glanced over his shoulder. ‘We need–’

  ‘There’s only two of them. But they could let more in.’

  ‘We can’t have that. Come on.’ Fraysun brushed past them and ran down the corridor.

  Graelen grabbed Paryx, dragging him along in his wake.

  The hand-of-force led them down several stairs and across a deserted courtyard, through the oldest part of the brotherhood’s palace to the boat-house, which was built into the lake wall.

  Fraysun stopped at the entrance to the boat-house, the power of his gift radiating from his skin. ‘I can’t hear anything.’

  ‘They were right there.’

  Fraysun put his back to them and peered around the corner. Driven by fear, Graelen pulled his knife, caught Fraysun around the neck and slid the blade between his ribs. Graelen felt reality waver as the warrior’s shade nearly dragged him onto the higher plane. Then the big warrior tipped forward, collapsing on the stone.

  Paryx moaned.

  ‘Come on. We have to see this through.’

  They carried the body to the nearest rowboat, dropped it in, and washed the blood from the stones where Fraysun ha
d been slain. They tied weights around Fraysun’s body, then climbed into the boat.

  After they dumped the body in the lake, they left the rowboat where they’d found it. By this time, Paryx was shaking.

  Graelen took his arm. ‘No one will suspect what we’ve done. No one saw us lead Fraysun away.’

  Paryx turned terrified eyed to him. ‘What if Kyredeon fails?’

  ‘Kyredeon had better win.’

  As they made their way through the palace, they heard celebrating.

  ‘What does it mean?’Paryx whispered.

  ‘One of the triumvirates has lost and one has won. We better get upstairs and clean up.’

  Then Graelen caught a name. ‘All-father Ekanyn!’

  He grinned and dragged Paryx into the young adepts’ chamber, where they stripped, throwing their bloodied garments into the fireplace.

  By the time they blended into the general celebration, there was wine and singing and trysting going on in every chamber and stairwell.

  Athamyr found them drinking and singing with the other young adepts. ‘Hand-of-force Kyredeon wants to speak with you two.’

  They followed him to what had been Fraysun’s quarters. Malaunje were busy stripping it and moving furniture.

  Kyredeon led them into his private chamber. ‘What happened?’

  ‘We killed Fraysun and dumped his body in the lake,’ Paryx blurted. ‘Graelen killed him. I–’

  ‘Really?’ Kyredeon’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘To ensure he could not interfere with the challenge,’ Graelen said.

  ‘How did you know about the challenge?’

  ‘I went back to speak with you and heard you making the pact with Ekanyn and Hariode.’

  ‘So you killed yourself a hand-of-force?’ Kyredeon said. ‘Why?’

  Because I was terrified. ‘To win stature. To win a place in the new inner circle.’

  This made Kyredeon laugh.

  ‘I had no idea you two were so ambitious.’ For a heartbeat, Graelen saw Kyredeon’s friendly mask slip as naked cunning lit his eyes; then he grinned. ‘Very enterprising of you, but we don’t put adepts still wet behind the ears in the all-father’s inner circle.’

  ‘You’ll tell the all-father how we served him,’ Graelen said. ‘We’ll need protection. Fraysun’s shade may come after us.’

  ‘I doubt it. The empyrean beasts have had a feast tonight. Ekanyn and Hariode saw to that. They killed the all-father, his second and all the inner circle. Now I have to purge the brotherhood of Sigorian’s remaining supporters.’ Kyredeon glanced to Paryx. ‘You two killed yourself a hand-of-force. Let’s see if you are strong enough to survive his revenge.’

  Outside, Paryx maintained his calm until they reached the steps to their quarters, then he slumped against the wall gasping.

  ‘Just breathe slowly,’ Graelen told him.

  ‘You could have gotten us both killed. What if he’d taken offence to our initiative?’

  ‘He would have taken offence if he knew Fraysun’s lover had let him go. I saved our lives. We’ve won so much stature we’ll never be at the beck and call of the high-ranking adepts again.’

  ‘If we survive Fraysun’s shade.’

  ‘He may not come for us. Tell you what... I’ll watch your back, you watch mine.’

  IMOSHEN HELD REOSHEN’S still form. No breath. No heartbeat.

  Dead...

  He could not be dead. She couldn’t lose them both in one night. Not Reothe and their son.

  A wave of fury engulfed her and she felt that odd sensation as the world shifted. She saw Iraayel at the other end of the boat, his life force dulled by cold and shock. She saw Frayvia, also exhausted.

  In her newborn there was nothing. He did not register on her sight. But she would not give up. She tucked him in the wet wrappings and mentally prepared herself.

  Reothe had spoken of the empyrean plane and its predators, and how the essence of the dead had to traverse it to reach death’s realm. She’d go after Reoshen, catch him and bring him back.

  The thought of entering the higher plane terrified her.

  Even so, she flung herself through.

  Now she stood on a beach in the late afternoon. A wintry silver sunlight filled the sky. The dunes stretched before her, dune grass waving in the wind.

  Over the rise, she’d find the cottage. It was where she’d found Karokara and taken Iraayel home with her. Surely that was a good sign?

  She ran up the dune and looked down into the next hollow.

  The cottage was not there. Only a scorched square remained. That’s right; Irian had burned it.

  If the cottage was not here, then where should she look for Reoshen?

  She already knew the answer. He was so small and defenceless, and he had no sense of himself. His essence would have dissipated.

  She turned around...

  And spotted Frayvia kneeling on the beach. A thousand tiny crabs converged on her.

  Forgetting that she had no voice here, Imoshen tried to shout a warning. She felt the world shiver and knew she’d done something dangerous. She should go back, but not without Frayvia.

  Running down the slope, she charged across the beach, deliberately stamping on the crabs, cracking their shells. With each step she took, they scattered.

  Frayvia lifted her head, terrified. She was already starting to dissipate.

  Imoshen swept her arms around her, had to pin Frayvia with her gift to...

  Segue back to the boat.

  Her body burned as if with a fever. Frayvia clung to her. Iraayel crawled over to join them. She held them both in her arms and felt them grow warm as she shook.

  As for Reoshen, there was nothing she could do. She’d failed him.

  GRAELEN WOKE TO a new brotherhood leadership. He rolled over and found Paryx next to him. They’d known each other half their lives now. Barring accidents, assassination, murder and Mieren, they had perhaps another seventy years ahead of them.

  Paryx grinned and Graelen knew if he asked, Paryx would become his shield-brother, but he also knew that, after yesterday, Paryx would be a liability.

  ‘What?’ his trysting-partner asked.

  ‘Today, Kyredeon is hand-of-force, and he’ll acknowledge our stature. From the screams last night, I’d say he’s purged half the top-ranking initiates. We’ll never have to live in fear again.’

  Cerazim, an adept of three years’ experience, came in and sat cross-legged on his bedroll. He looked shaken.

  Graelen sat up, the covers pooling in his lap. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘We have a new all-father.’ Cerazim said.

  Graelen shrugged. ‘So?’

  ‘Not Ekanyn. He and Hariode are dead. While they were recovering from the leadership challenge, Kyredeon took Farodytor for his shield-brother and killed them both. He’s the new all-father. Athamyr is his hand-of-force.’

  Paryx sat up slowly. ‘That’s... Is that legitimate?’

  ‘Yes, barely,’ Cerazim said. ‘The all-father and his voice-of-reason must be ready to defend their leadership at all times.’

  ‘But they’d only just defeated Sigorian,’ Paryx said. ‘Their gifts were drained.’

  And they weren’t expecting their own hand-of-force to turn on them. What’s more, Graelen knew Kyredeon had urged Ekanyn and Hariode to take the gamble and make the challenge.

  It seemed Graelen and Paryx had attracted the attention of a very dangerous man.

  ‘All-father Kyredeon has called everyone to the main courtyard.’ Cerazim came to his feet. ‘Coming?’

  ‘In a moment,’ Graelen said.

  As soon as Cerazim left, Paryx turned to Graelen. ‘Kyredeon thinks we’re ambitious. He thinks we’re a threat. What do we do?’

  ‘We give him no reason to doubt our loyalty.’ Graelen stood and reached for his breeches. ‘Starting with being on time for his speech.’

  IMOSHEN WOKE WITH a sense of urgency. Every muscle in her body ached, and s
he was barely warm. Frayvia lay on one side of her and Iraayel on the other. He wriggled against her, triggering a wave of love for him, but she had the feeling that when she came fully awake she would regret it.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ Iraayel said.

  She remembered the last time he’d said those words, back in her room after the birth.

  Her eyes snapped open. The three of them lay in the belly of a rowboat. It was listing to one side; they must have run aground. Anyone could find them here.

  Frayvia jerked awake. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Get up.’ Imoshen crept to the side of the boat and peered along the beach in both directions. Deserted. Even so... ‘We have to hide. Quick, up the beach, behind those rocks.’

  Frayvia climbed out and lifted Iraayel onto the hard sand. She took his hand, and they stumbled up the beach towards the outcrop.

  Imoshen collected Reoshen, holding the tiny bundle against her body as she headed up the beach. Behind a row of rocks and wind-twisted trees was a marsh. Birds called and circled in the grey winter’s dawn.

  Frayvia bent double, her hand pressed to her chest. ‘I hurt here. Hurt so bad...’ She raised pain-filled eyes to Imoshen. ‘Am I dying?’

  An impossible ache filled Imoshen’s chest. She looked down to the bundle in her arms.

  Frayvia’s mouth opened in a silent gasp, then she dropped to her knees, making a keening sound. Iraayel threw his arms around her.

  Imoshen sank to her knees beside Frayvia and Iraayel. Nothing felt real.

  After a while, Frayvia caught her breath and lifted her head. She stared at Imoshen. ‘I remember there were hundreds of tiny crabs trying to eat me. Am I going mad?’

  ‘That was on the higher plane.’

  Horrified, Frayvia shook her head.

  ‘I went looking for Reoshen, took you with me by mistake. I’m sorry.’

  Frayvia’s lips parted in a silent O.

  ‘I couldn’t save him. I failed him.’ Imoshen sat with the dead newborn across her lap. Hot tears poured down her cheeks. She didn’t know if she could ever get up again.

  Iraayel patted her face, weeping with her, trying to soothe her.