by Tim Stead
“You are well, Calaine? All is well with your family?”
“Yes, all is good,” she said, and then after a pause, “I like your daughter, Tarlyn Saine. My father likes her, too.”
“Ah, we all like her,” Corban said. “But she can be so annoying!”
27 The Shining Wake
Ella walked through the streets of the old town with Kane. He walked half a pace behind her, which she found annoying because it meant that she had to twist her head around every time she wanted to speak with him, and she suspected that this was what he wanted. Kane was not a great talker.
In spite of that she was enjoying the walk. The streets at the heart of the oldest part of the old town were narrow and cobbled. No carts passed through here, and the place was the better for it. Store keepers laid their wares outside their front doors, and Ella loved wandering from one bright stall to another, speaking to the people, sometimes trying what was offered.
People treated her with respect, but they seemed friendly and unafraid. It was a marked contrast with the first time that she had been out in the city with Kane, following his relentless progress towards Gulltown like a child keeping up with impatient elders. Now it was Ella who was followed, who chose the route. The street vendors saw this, and they knew Ella, knew the trading house of Saine, and that there was no threat.
It was a warm day, and the shade from the buildings was welcome. Ella worked her way down towards the sea wall south of the citadel from where a fresh sea breeze rose, cleaning out the rich air of the market streets and giving her a great appetite. When they finally reached the sea she sat for a while on one of the benches that lined the shore and looked at the piers.
Decades, even centuries before this had been a busy place with ships from all the cities up and down the coast loading and unloading, sailors and traders passing along the quayside, strange accents, and stranger scents from the holds of vessels from far places. She had never seen it, but believed that she could conjure up the image in her mind.
Now a few fishermen sat along the piers with lines cast out into the blue green water, and perhaps two dozen small boats, no larger than one man could draw with a pair of oars, bounced and knocked against the piles and each other. This was the remains of Samara’s once great fleet.
“Kane, what is that place over there?” She pointed to a gaily painted building set across the road from the water about two minutes walk down from where she sat. She knew very well what place it was.
“It is the Shining Wake,” Kane replied, “a tavern.”
“I have heard that they sell the finest fish in all Samara,” she said. “We shall have our noon meal there today.” It was a place that her father would not take her. It was rough, he said. Bandits and loafers were often to be found there, but the reputation of the food drew people of a better sort, too. With Kane she felt that it was time to sample their cooking. It would be safe with Kane.
She still felt slightly awkward with him. She was really little more than a child, but Kane did not seem to notice it. He did not question her, did not argue, persuade, encourage or even raise an eyebrow.
They walked along the waterfront.
“Why did you take service with the king, Kane?” she asked.
“It was a better cause.”
“Better than what?”
“Myself.”
“What does that mean?”
Kane shrugged. “Me,’” he said.
“It’s like digging in water,” she said.
“What is?”
“Talking to you. None of your answers make any sense.”
“They are answers to your questions.”
“So what did you do before you served the king?”
“I ate, I slept. Sometimes I worked for people. Sometimes I stole from them.”
“What about your family?”
“I have no family,” Kane said. At last there was something in his voice other than a dull monotone, but Ella didn’t recognise it.
“Everyone has a family, Kane. What happened to them?”
Kane said nothing, but continued to walk slightly behind her. She stopped and turned to face him.
“What happened to your family, Kane?”
Now she recognised it, a few moments too late to stop her repeating the question. It was anger, stoppered down inside him, but white hot and cold at the same time. For a moment she was afraid, but the anger was not at her. It was directed against some ancient injustice, something that could never be put right.
“I will not speak of them,” he said.
Ella was relieved, and glad, now, to drop the subject.
“I am sorry to have asked you, Kane. Forgive me.”
Now Kane looked at her, probably for the first time he turned his head and actually looked. There was a flicker of interest in his eyes, and puzzlement.
“Why do you apologize?” he asked. “You have done no wrong.”
“I know better, Kane.” She touched him lightly on the arm. “Let us go and eat.” She had been prodding him to see what would happen, and now she felt that she had been poking a sleeping monster with a very short stick.
They went into the tavern, which was not crowded. They were a little before the custom for lunch, and they had their choice of tables. Ella chose to sit by the window where she could look out at the sea and enjoy the shade of a quiet corner. A man came to them and asked them their desire, and after a short discussion they chose their food and he left them again.
“I am thirsty, Kane.”
“What do you want?”
“I do not think my father would be upset if I had a glass of Kilbaran wine.”
“I will fetch it for you.”
“And something for yourself. You must be thirsty.”
Kane nodded and made towards the serving tables. People were now beginning to fill up the spaces around them and in a few steps he was lost from view. Ella sat back and looked out of the window at the sun, the small boats and the sea. She never tired of the sea, and would have liked to travel on it, but only a few ships capable of such a journey now existed, and none of them came to Samara. She had taken the few chances to travel that her father had deemed safe enough, and had been out to several of the small towns that lay just over the horizons from the city, but they all seemed just smaller versions of the place she lived, like little shadows.
She was sure that different places existed, with different customs, different accents and different people, but they were far away. She would have liked to have seen Ocean’s Gate, or Even White Rock, but it was out of the question – far too dangerous.
“Well, what a nice surprise.”
She was startled by the voice, which was very close to her, and turned quickly to see Fram, leaning on the table, grinning at her. She suddenly wished that she had not been thirsty, remembering the warning that Tarnell had given them about this man.
“You are well, Fram?” she asked.
“Much better for seeing you. Alone.” He said.
“I’m not alone, Fram.”
“Probably not, but then neither am I.”
She noticed for the first time that there were three or four other men pressing behind Fram. They looked young and nasty, but not very bright. Fram recaptured her attention by sticking his dagger in the table between them.
“Your little games got me thrown out of the king’s service,” he said. “I owe you something for that, or perhaps you owe me?”
“You failed in your duty, Fram. The king could have been harder on you.”
“Perhaps I should cut out that clever tongue,” he pointed the knife at her. “What do you think Calaine would look like without a tongue? Or perhaps cut your face? I know the contract, you see. Shall I start with a little cut? Perhaps we should go…”
His voice was cut off as his head slammed down into the table and was pinned there by Kane’s hand. The big man put two drinks down carefully.
“Hello, Fram. I’d hoped not to see you here.”
&
nbsp; “Ah, Kane.” It was about all he could manage with his face deformed against the very solid oak table top.
“You want to leave now, don’t you?”
“Yes, Kane.”
The men who had been backing Fram had melted into the lunchtime crowds when Kane appeared. They knew him, Ella guessed. Kane released Fram’s neck and the man stood up, rubbing his jaw.
“Go,” Kane said, and Fram was gone, hurrying away with indecent speed, heading for the door. Kane took his seat on the side of the table adjacent to Ella, facing the room, but not with his back to the window. He seemed completely untroubled by what had just passed.
“Thank you, Kane,” Ella said.
“It is why I am here,” he replied, and it was true.
“So,” Ella asked, taking the smallest sip of her wine, “is this a better cause than your last?”
Kane looked at her again, the look that suggested he was really trying to see something.
“I don’t know yet,” he said. “I’m still thinking about it.”
The food arrived and they ate. Ella decided that the Shining Wake well deserved its reputation for fine food, but she kept looking at the throng around them, hoping not to see Fram or any of his friends, but somehow feeling that they would always be there.
At least she had Kane.
* * * *
That evening Ella managed to persuade the king to see her on her own, and almost immediately she asked him about Kane.
“What do you want to know about him?” Tarnell asked.
“What happened to him before he worked for you?”
“That’s a big question. He lived quite a few years before I ever saw him,” the king replied.
“Something to do with his family.”
“Dangerous ground; he doesn’t talk about his family.”
“But you know something.”
“Of course. When Kane joined us it was under unusual circumstances. It was as if he just stepped from one side of the world to the other – from enemy to friend. It seemed suspicious. We tried to find out more about him.”
“So you found…?”
“Not much. Kane was born in Samara, so we found out who his father and mother were. That wasn’t hard. Both were dead, though, and he has no brothers or sisters. He came from the worst area of Gulltown, and the people who knew his family were not keen to speak of it. His father was a violent man, of that there can be no doubt. His mother was beaten regularly, as was Kane, we have to assume. Nobody would tell us, and we can be quite persuasive.”
“What happened to his parents?”
“They died about a week apart. The mother first, and they were both beaten to death. Kane was probably about fourteen. Our guess is that his father killed his mother and he killed his father.”
“At fourteen?” Ella was shocked.
“Yes. Kane is not completely predictable. Some things set him off, some situations. He can become very violent indeed, but it seems to happen less often as the years pass.”
“Is he mad?”
“Not at all. Although he says very little I’ve come to believe that he’s very bright, but also that he’s damaged beyond repair. He likes to be treated as a machine, it seems. He expects nothing from life, accepts whatever comes along. I gave up trying to understand him a very long time ago.”
“Did you try to help him?”
“Help Kane?” Tarnell laughed. “It would be like trying to help a fire not to burn. He’s an elemental force made flesh. People who’ve never met Kane are scared of him as soon as he walks into the room.”
“And perhaps he’s more useful as a scary machine.”
“Perhaps. We all have our burdens, Ella, and our youth does things to us that we cannot undo. You, me, we all carry marks, though yours are fresh and doubtless you feel that all your choices are yours alone.”
“I follow my father’s example, and his wisdom is the basis of what little I have of my own, I am not so young that I think otherwise, but he encourages independence, and I take advantage of that.”
“I do not doubt that he has raised you well.”
Ella felt that the conversation was wandering into areas where she might learn things that she had no desire to know. The king seemed more open, and perhaps even more vulnerable than she had ever known him to be. It was what her father would have described as an opportunity, but she felt that it was the wrong time for this. If she prised him open now he would resent it later, and any trust between them would be undone.
“I should go,” she said. “It is getting late.”
“Yes, and I have much to do.” The king quickly resumed his customary air of authority, and the tenuous bond between them was invisible again, but not altogether lost.
“Thank you for sparing me the time, Regani,” she said.
“It is a pleasure to speak with you,” he said. “Feel free to seek my council any time that you have the need.”
Or that you do, King of Samara, she thought.
28 Rin
“Dead?” How can that be? She was with me last night. “How can she be dead?”
He knew that he was wrong. Darius was the first man that he had trusted in White Rock, and he would not lie; not about this. The pathetic spark of hope that whispered to him that this was a trick, a prank, a joke, died quickly as he looked into Darius’s eyes. Yet he didn’t understand the how, or why this could be true.
“She was leaving the castle, by the main gate,” his friend said. “Some of Stil’s men stopped and searched her. You know that they have been watching her. They found a book, concealed.”
“What book?” But he knew. It was that book; Corderan’s book. He wanted to run to his study and check the locked drawer of his desk, but he knew that it would be open, and the book would be gone.
“It was an old book, leather bound. Stil was very excited when he saw it, but I don’t know what book it was. He took it directly to Gerique, left his men to hold Mai.”
“So what happened?”
“I think it was poison,” Darius said. “The guards said that she seemed to bite down on something, and within a minute of that she was dead. I think it was quick and painless.”
“She killed herself?” He was aware that he was asking a string of stupid questions that had already been answered, either in his own head or by the account he was hearing, but he couldn’t stop.
“That’s the way it seems, Cal. She said two things before she died.”
“Tell me.”
“The first thing she said, before they really knew what she’d done was: ‘now I am free’. The second was: ‘tell Cal I’m sorry’. By the time she said the second sentence she’d collapsed, she was dying.”
“I see.” Sorry for what? Sorry for dying? Sorry for stealing the book, for betraying him, for putting him in great danger? Sorry for wrecking his life? He slapped himself down. It was Mai that was dead. Dead. He could feel her warmth and see her smile. That was just a few hours ago. Why had she done it? No, he knew why. The book was just too great a temptation, and all those mornings when he thought she was getting breakfast for him, how many times had she searched his study? When she found the book she would have known that it was important, decided to take the risk.
“Cal, Gerique is going to send for you. When he sees the book, if it’s important, he’s going to want to speak to you. She was your secretary. If the book is a forbidden thing you are the obvious place she got it.”
He nodded. She’d been right, though. He should have got the book out himself, somehow. It was all in his head – every page, diagram, word - all perfectly preserved by his wonderful memory, but Gerique had the book.
“I will go to Gerique,” he said.
“Cal, be careful. He has the Shan. It can tell if you know something and choose to hide it. Do you really want to see Gerique knowing that?”
“I have nothing to fear,” he said. Keeping secrets was second nature to him, but now he had lost something more important than secrets. He was not
afraid to die.
“Cal,” Darius had raised his voice. “Now is not the time to be childish. Yes, you have suffered a great loss, but more depends on you now. Everything depends on you. If there is anything we can do we will do it. Do you want to leave White Rock?”
“Smuggle me out? No. It would serve no purpose but to sharpen Gerique’s certainty. It would also finish all of you, but thank you for the offer. It was noble.”
“We must be able to do something, Cal,” Cora said. It was the first time she had spoken, and Serhan knew the reason why. He was waking up now, coming back to himself in spite of the pain and despair he felt.
“Cora,” he said. “You were right. It was unwise. He took her hand in his. “I know that you are my good friend, and that you thought of my welfare when you told me about Mai being part of the Free. It was the right thing to do.”
“Cora is right again,” Darius said. “We must do something.”
“No. This is my problem. All I can tell you is that I grieve for Mai. The book, I do not know what it was. You may suspect differently, but if you are questioned by the Shan you will not know anything. If Gerique sends for me I will go to him. I am confident that I will return.” He was not, of course, but if he was doomed, then these people would be the ones to carry on in the spirit of the changes he had made. He was sure that Gerique would want to continue. The Faer Karan needed mankind to survive, even thrive.
“Cal, there must be something.” Cora looked devastated.
“Breakfast. I think I need something to eat.”
“Cal?” He could see that it was beginning to dawn on Darius that there was nothing at all that they could do. This was going to play itself out, and it would go the way it was destined to go.
“Alder, can you send down to the kitchens? I want something substantial today, and you two will join me,” he smiled at the two captains.
The meal was not a cheerful one, and Cora did not eat anything at all, but pushed food around her plate and looked pale.
“Cora,” he said after a while. “You do not know what is going to happen.”
“You are right, I do not know.”
