Windsinger

by A. F. E. Smith

  Silently, she broke the seal and poured a small quantity of the amber liquid into each glass, before handing him one. Swallowing some of her own drink, she managed to resist the urge to wince. She’d never admit it to anyone, but she didn’t understand the appeal of taransey; it tasted of fire and sharpness, just like every other spirit she’d ever tried. Yet a contented smile had settled on Torrino’s face.

  ‘Remarkable,’ he murmured. ‘Quite remarkable.’

  He sipped his drink, gazing at the fire; Ayla matched him. The taransey was growing on her. Though it had a bitter aftertaste she didn’t like, she was at least beginning to distinguish some flavours in it beyond mere alcohol.

  ‘Well,’ Tolino said finally, replacing his empty glass on the table with a decisive click. ‘Thank you. That will give me something to boast about back home. But now I suppose we had better get down to business.’

  ‘I suppose we had.’

  They looked at each other a moment in silence. Then, very slowly, Ayla reached up to the collar around her neck. Years of caution were screaming at her not to do it – she could imagine all too clearly what Tomas would say, and Miles too – but her instincts told her that Tolino was to be trusted. And besides, the two of them needed something to break through the polite wall that separated them. Her fingers found the catch, popped it open; before she could change her mind, she dropped the collar beside her own glass.

  ‘I thank you for your trust,’ Tolino said. He looked surprised and, Ayla thought, a little pleased. If he brought out a concealed weapon now, it might not go well for her. Indeed, if he were in fact an assassin – if this entire meeting were an elaborate ruse on the part of the Kardise – she had given him the perfect opportunity. But instead he leaned back, hands resting open-fingered on the arms of his chair as though he guessed her doubt and sought to reassure her. ‘In return, let me assure you that I have no intention of playing diplomatic games with you – despite what your correspondence with our government may have led you to believe. It is my firm intention to approve a treaty between our countries. Everything else is just a matter of detail.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ayla said, startled in her turn. Taking a moment to hide the sudden rush of relief, she topped up both their glasses. ‘That’s … I’m glad to hear you say that. I feel the same way.’

  ‘Good.’ Tolino smiled. ‘Then shall we begin?’

  By the time they had talked through all the most important points of the treaty, the sixth bell had rung, the bottle of taransey was half empty and Ayla was more than ready for a break. They had discussed trade, migration, aid in war, border control and found no desperately contentious areas, only insignificant disagreements that would need hashing out at more leisure. Perhaps she would have continued, pressing for more and more agreement until she was certain that a successful treaty could be signed in the days ahead; but Tolino looked tired, she herself was desperately hungry, and the points that remained to sort out were so minor that she couldn’t believe any of them would make a difference. As Tolino had said himself, it was just a matter of detail. So she sat back in her chair, offering him a grateful smile.

  ‘Shall we leave it there? We have days ahead of us. And I think it’s clear that we will be able to reach consensus.’

  ‘I admit, I would like something more than taransey to sustain me,’ Tolino murmured, and she nodded.

  ‘I’ll have someone bring refreshments to your room.’

  Yet as she replaced the collar around her neck, the ambassador leaned forward in his chair. ‘Before we go, there is, ah … a rather delicate matter I must raise with you.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You have, here in the city, a young man named Alezzandro Lepont. I believe he is currently working in the warriors’ ring … what number is that? The fifth.’ He watched her face as he added, ‘Three years ago, he was briefly and falsely suspected of being an assassin.’

  Enlightenment dawned. ‘Of course. Zander.’ She didn’t know him, not really. Other than that unfortunate episode, their paths had rarely crossed. Tomas had always spoken highly of him, expressing regret that it would be impolitic to have him in the Helm. And Ree talked about him on a regular basis. But more importantly, in this context … ‘He is the son of one of your councillors, I believe.’

  ‘Yes, Lady Ayla.’ Tolino spread his hands. ‘And that brings us to the heart of the matter. Marco Lepont is greatly desirous of his son’s return.’

  ‘Isn’t that up to Zander?’

  ‘Yes and no. He is indeed an adult, and in that sense free to make his own decisions. But Councillor Lepont is an influential man, and Alezzandro his only son.’ Tolino paused, then said almost apologetically, ‘He has made it a condition of the treaty that the boy leave Mirrorvale and return to Sol Kardis.’

  ‘You want me to deport him?’ Ayla asked incredulously.

  ‘If it comes to that. I would hope he will listen to reason, and leave of his own accord.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’d have to talk to him about this. I couldn’t just –’

  ‘That is exactly what we wish,’ Tolino said. ‘He has disregarded the repeated summons of his father. Perhaps you can persuade him where his own blood cannot.’

  Ayla shook her head. ‘You don’t understand. I wouldn’t be seeking to persuade him home. I’d be telling him what you have demanded, and your price if the demand is not met. What he does with that knowledge is up to him.’

  Tolino raised his eyebrows. ‘Even if the entire treaty stands or falls as a result?’

  ‘Even so,’ Ayla said coldly. ‘I don’t like blackmail.’

  He looked at her steadily a moment longer, then smiled.

  ‘Very well, Lady Ayla. I respect your principles, though I cannot agree with your conclusion. We will begin to draw up the treaty in the morning, and as for the problem of Alezzandro …’ He shrugged. ‘Let us see what a new day brings.’

  Ayla wasn’t entirely content with that, but it had to be enough. They had reached agreement on most points, after all. Perhaps in the morning she would be able to convince him to give up the ridiculous idea that it was acceptable to treat a young man like a criminal – and throw a peace treaty into disarray – because his father didn’t like the way he was living his life.

  ‘Let me find someone to show you to your room,’ she said, and they crossed the floor together. But before she could open the door, Tolino put a hand on her arm.

  ‘Don’t look so worried, Lady Ayla. We will find a way to honour both Councillor Lepont’s request and your own conscience. I promise.’

  Curiously, she found she believed him. She began to say something, but he got there first.

  ‘You know, whatever the legends say, it is my opinion that the reality outmatches them in every respect.’

  Then they were outside the library again, with aides and Helmsmen springing into action at this evidence that their employers had not, in fact, torn each other to pieces, and Tomas giving orders for the Kardise to be shown to their rooms and served a late meal. It was only when the ambassador was about to be swept off by his entourage that Ayla managed to get another word in.

  ‘Don Tolino!’

  He turned, smiling. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Not at all. Thank you.’

  They clasped hands, briefly. And then he was gone.

  Later, once she and Tomas were alone in their bedroom, Ayla stood at the window and gazed out at the stars. It was late, and she was tired, but she didn’t yet feel like sleeping. The events of the day kept playing through her mind, challenging her to find a flaw in what she had done. A weakness. Something that would bring all her hopes crashing down. Yet she couldn’t find one. Apart from the issue of Zander – and Tolino had as good as assured her that it wouldn’t be an issue after all – she couldn’t see a single obstacle in her way.

  I did it. I actually did it.

  ‘So are you ready yet?’ Tomas stepped up behind her, sliding his hands over her hips to encircle
her waist. ‘To tell me how it went?’

  ‘Well.’ She tipped her head back against his shoulder, smiling. ‘Don Tolino is a good man, and I really think it went well.’

  ‘I’m proud of you.’

  ‘Oh, Tomas.’ Still she smiled. She couldn’t stop smiling. It felt like an irrepressible light, bursting out of her despite her exhaustion and the restrictions of her highly annoying dress. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For everything.’ She closed her eyes. Peace. We can have peace. This is really going to happen.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Tomas said softly in her ear. She chuckled.

  ‘I feel like a trussed-up chicken awaiting the pot. I’d forgotten how uncomfortable these stupid things are.’

  His fingertips trailed over her skin, leaving a tingle of anticipation in their wake. His voice held a promise. ‘I can help you take it off.’

  And he did.

  TWO

  Outside the library, Ree kept her place in the guard formation – equally spaced, close enough to the Helmsmen either side of her to watch their backs, far enough apart not to get in each other’s way. She kept her expression neutral, as she’d been trained to do, but she couldn’t help an inner smile. Her childhood dreams of joining the Helm had involved fighting off assailants ten against one, preserving the Nightshade overlord’s life at great and heroic personal cost, and single-handedly saving the entire country from deadly peril. Standing hadn’t featured at all. Whereas the truth was, as she’d once joked to Penn, that all the weapons testing they’d been put through before they joined was far less relevant to their daily lives than whether they could stand without moving for the space of a bell.

  Of course, Penn had pointed out that any desperate battles or single-handed feats of heroism would mean there was a very real danger of them failing at their job. Every uneventful shift, he’d said, meant another day of survival for the Nightshade line. And of course, Ree couldn’t argue with that. It wasn’t as if all the standing had decreased her love of what she did. It was just that, sometimes, it was very hard not to fidget.

  Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, she did her best to practise everything she’d been taught. Stay relaxed but alert: that was her only physical requirement, a state of loose readiness that could carry her through long periods of waiting and still leave her ready to fight at the end. Tension would exhaust her muscles unnecessarily, but relax too much and she’d be too slow to react if the moment required it. Which led to focus on the present moment. Silence and inaction made it too easy for her mind to drift into other times and places, and a distracted Helmsman was a defeated one. Instead, she had to observe and analyse. Even if all she had to observe was the stretch of wall ahead of her, the muted sounds of people going about their business elsewhere in the tower, the smell of the oil lamps and the scuff of fabric against her skin – even then, she had to keep thinking about it all. Because failing to notice a change, however slight, could mean the difference between raising the alarm and being taken off guard.

  A murmur caught her attention, and she slid her gaze in that direction, but it was only two of the Kardise talking to each other in low voices. The ambassador’s bodyguard stood beside Captain Caraway outside the library door, with six Helmsmen stationed three to each side at intervals along the wall, leaving the three other members of Tolino’s entourage at something of a loose end. Caraway had offered to send someone to show them to their rooms, but it was clear they felt they should remain within shouting distance of the library, where they could eye the Helmsmen on duty suspiciously and be eyed in return. Decades of fighting between Mirrorvale and Sol Kardis couldn’t be forgotten in a single afternoon. And so they stood in a huddle in the vestibule, getting in the way of passing servants and generally making a nuisance of themselves.

  Can’t really blame them, Ree thought. I wouldn’t want to leave either, in their position. She turned her gaze to face forward again, not wanting to make them uncomfortable, and suppressed an inward sigh. That indistinct murmur was the most interesting thing that had happened for the past half-bell. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

  By the time Ayla finally emerged from the library, it was getting late. Anxiously, Ree studied her face; not only was it her job to anticipate her overlord’s every need, whim and possible danger, but she was Ayla’s friend. As much as anyone could be, anyway. If something had gone wrong, she wanted to know about it. Yet Ayla looked calm and happy, and the parting words she exchanged with the ambassador were warm. It must have gone well.

  Once the Kardise party had retreated to their designated quarters, Caraway thanked the Helmsmen on duty for their service and dismissed them to get some rest. Outside, darkness had fallen; the moon hung low in the sky, a misshapen yellow disc. Past the start of sixth bell, but not yet close to seventh. Ree wasn’t on duty tomorrow; she had two training sessions to attend, bladework in the morning and firearms in the afternoon, but she’d be able to get up a little later for a change. Maybe she’d call round to Zander’s apartment, she thought as she crossed the central square. He’d be interested to hear about the ambassador. And the next morning, they could return to the fifth ring together.

  The night shift had already taken over from the day shift, of course, so she had to call down one of the Helmsmen on duty above the postern gate to let her out.

  ‘All right, Ree?’ It was Tulia, a tall, broad-shouldered girl with red-gold hair who was the only other female member of the Helm. She’d joined the previous year, having been inspired by Ree’s success to attempt the training. Every assessment period since Ree’s own had included a few girls, though most of them were unsuccessful, just like most of the boys were. Of course, that didn’t stop the snide suggestion in certain quarters that Captain Caraway went easy on the girls. But by now, Ree had learned that some people were far less interested in the truth than in how they could twist that truth to support their own agenda. And there was no point in arguing with people like that, because no evidence – however solid – would ever change their minds.

  Sometimes, when a cohort of new recruits turned out to be particularly troublesome on the question of female Helmsmen, Ree and Tulia would go and demonstrate the forms for them. That usually silenced the doubters.

  ‘You just come on duty?’ Ree asked.

  ‘Yeah. First night shift of the week. Always the hardest.’ Tulia mimed an exaggerated yawn. ‘You were in the reception party for the ambassador, right?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Anything interesting happen?’

  ‘Well …’ Ree grinned. ‘I got to practise my standing.’

  They shared a chuckle, before Tulia unlocked the postern and let Ree out.

  ‘’Night, Tu.’

  ‘’Night.’

  As Ree descended the hill towards the seventh gate, she felt tiredness seeping through her bones – as though leaving Darkhaven, crossing that line between work and home, had removed her shields and allowed the underlying weakness to reveal itself. Perhaps she’d wait until tomorrow to see Zander. Yet she’d been on day shift and then night shift for the past week, plus the ambassador’s visit today … it had been ages since she last saw him.

  She shook her head with a sigh. She’d decide when she reached the Gate of Steel – unless she fell asleep on the way. The way she felt now, it was a very real possibility.

  Run, Ree. She passed through the Gate of Death with a hand lifted in greeting to the watchmen. It’ll keep you awake.

  As she jogged past the temples of the sixth ring, she noticed that one of the twin swords wasn’t sitting quite right on her back. She paused for a moment, rolling her shoulders to redistribute the weight. Those swords had come as a surprise to her. During training, one of the weaponmasters had given a series of lessons on fighting an opponent armed with dual blades, and as part of it they’d all had the chance to try it for themselves. Most of the trainees had grumbled about the awkwardness of having to think about a second sword when they
’d just become proficient in the forms with one, but not Ree. For her, somehow, it had fit.

  On the last day of the course, Captain Caraway had come to watch them practise. He’d spoken to the weaponmaster. And then, soon afterwards, he’d called Ree to one of the single-combat training floors.

  ‘Captain?’ Ree poked her head around the door. ‘You wanted to see me?’

  ‘Come in, Ree.’ As Caraway turned to gesture her inside, she realised he wasn’t alone; a stocky blonde woman stood beside him, arms folded.

  ‘This is Naeve Sorrow,’ the captain said. ‘She’s going to give you extra training. Sorrow, this is Ree Quinn.’

  Ree studied the woman in front of her with interest. She’d first met Sorrow, if meeting it could be called, when the other woman had crashed an airship in the grounds of Darkhaven three years ago. Since then, she’d seen the sellsword from time to time, here in the fifth ring or in Caraway’s company. And two sword hilts peeked over her shoulders – which answered one question, at least. Sorrow was renowned for her skill with the twin blades.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Ree said, only to be met with a flat-eyed stare. She glanced at Caraway, then immediately regretted betraying her uncertainty when she saw Sorrow’s lips curl.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Caraway said, either oblivious to Sorrow’s antipathy or choosing to ignore it. Ree saluted, and managed not to watch him leave. She was a potential Helmsman, she told herself, not a child.

  ‘I should warn you,’ the sellsword said, once they were alone, ‘that I’m not very good at teaching people things. If I’d wanted to impart knowledge to snotty brats, I’d have become a weaponmaster.’

  Ree blinked. ‘Did you just call me a snotty brat?’

  ‘Yes. Got a problem with that?’

  Ree flushed. She considered storming out. But after a moment, she said, ‘If you’re trying to antagonise me into leaving so you don’t have to teach me, it’s not going to work.’