by Ru Emerson
It was a warm morning, sunny like the day before had been. A number of City folk were cleaning up the Square and there was a crowd down by the River awaiting the launch of a new cargo barge. She rode by, waved and smiled at those who greeted her, but she had Marckl's road to herself, and the docks were empty: Kre'Darst had gone back down-river at first light, and the goods he'd brought had long since been stored or forwarded up to the City. She tied the grey to a tree, walked out the wooden platform dangled her feet over the water and stared at the trees on the far bank.
“Black hells,” she whispered. Lyiadd! Where was he? Had she seen things happening or what might? She shook that aside, Nisana was right. She couldn't be rid of him by worrying the matter, and there were other things to chew down at present.
Such as—? She flinched away from it, then came back to it several times. What was the matter with the man? For that matter, what was wrong with her? “Just as I think we're friends, he goes off, or goes distant, and I begin to wonder if he has any regard for me at all! Perhaps he's still offended by—” One hand came up reluctantly to trace the faint line running down her right cheek. No. That had bothered him badly, she'd seen it in his face whenever he looked at her, at first. For a long time now, though, she'd swear he hadn't even noticed it, save as being part of her.
And yet, last night—. He was drunk. I'd have sworn he hadn't even wanted to speak to me, let alone touch me. Madmen and nightmares, I'll never drink Narran wine again!
Nisana appeared suddenly at her side, and sat regarding her. There was an amused gleam in her eye.
'You've thought yourself in a circle ten times this morning, girl. Obviously you and this man are intended for each other and neither of you wants to admit it first. Personally, I prefer the direct ways of cat-kind.’
'Nisana!’
'I always knew where I stood with my mates, there was none of this silliness. Though I admit it's amusing to watch, in a way.’
'Nisana, you can't just—!’
'Are you safe here alone?’ Nisana inquired dryly. Before Ylia could respond, she added thoughtfully, I think I prefer cat's ways, it's been along time since I've even thought of it, one way or the other.’
'Cat, I swear—!’
'He's coming,’ Nisana broke in sharply. ‘Don't speak with your pride, girl! Watch your words, say nothing you'll regret.’ And the cat was gone. Ylia scrambled to her feet as Galdan came out of the woods and onto the sunlit dock.
He was dressed in his skins, and didn't seem surprised to see her. Sensed me. Like a bear, no doubt. He came up, knelt before her formally. “Lady.” His voice was low and it trembled, she scarcely caught the word; he was subdued indeed.
“Galdan? What is this?”
“A favor. For both of us. I want release from my oath.”
“You want to return to the mountains.” He nodded. She stared down at him, caught off guard and at a loss for words.
“I've paid my debt to you, the blood-debt that brought me here. I think it might be better if I leave now.”
What game is this? Haven't I enough to worry without this? “Don't talk nonsense!” she snapped. His head jerked, startled eyes met hers briefly. He turned them resolutely back to the rough board before his knees.
“It's not, you know,” he began flatly, much more like his normal argumentative self. He stopped abruptly.
“You look ridiculous down there, and I don't believe you. You stand up, look me in the eye and say all that. Silence. “Well?”
“That's not proper—”
It's never stopped you before, has it?” And as he stayed where he was, she added in exasperation, “All right, if you're going to be like that, so can I. She dropped down crossed-legged on the dock so he must look at her or turn away. “There. Now, if you sit, we can possibly reason this out.” He shook his head, eyed her cautiously and looked away again.
What is the matter with the man? But quite suddenly she knew. What he felt, what he truly wanted. What she wanted.
By all the Mothers at once. Fool, Ylia, to not have seen it before. Different, entirely different, from the thing she and Brendan had begun. Stronger, in some way, less ethereal. But Nisana was right: Choose your words carefully. She could find years to regret the wrong ones. He was proud, like his father—like her. He'd want nothing of her, if he thought she offered pity or charity. How can he doubt? she wondered hotly. But that wasn't fair; when she hadn't known herself. But now she did know, she wasn't about to let him out of reach.
“You can't leave,” she said finally: “You're needed here. Your father needs you. And what about Golsat? Brel's gone with Lisabetha, you'll leave poor Golsat to face the barracks alone. That's not the act of a true friend.”
“I—” He cast her another little look, turned his face away. “Father and I argue. Your council meetings will be a lot better without both of us at one table.”
“That's a poor reason for depriving Nedao of a counciler with your knowledge.”
“Perhaps. You've Golsat for that, though, and he has other things besides me to occupy his time.”
“Things substitute poorly for friends. Don't you know that?” He shrugged. “Well, I know it. But it doesn't matter, because I won't release you.”
“You—?”
“Absolutely not.”
“But I—”
“No. And be quiet.” She moved to her knees, gripped his shoulders hard. “Just listen to me, Galdan Erkenson. You swore to my service, you pledged to my aid, you're the First of my Household armed and my arms-mate.”
“But—”
“Will you stop interrupting me? It really doesn't match this servile posture you're trying to hold.” She punctuated the words with a shake; it moved her as much as it did him. He caught her eye, bit his lip but the laugh broke through.
By all the hells at once, you're a stubborn creature! I well. I just didn't want you to have the embarrassment of looking at me every day, after what I did last night. Is that so bad?”
“I don't know. Were you trying to insult me? Besides, do I look embarrassed?” she demanded. He eyed her critically.
“Well? Now you mention it, you've gone rather red—you do that nicely, by the way, I like it—”
“Quiet. I don't know why I talk to you. Maybe you should leave after all.”
“No, you said I couldn't and I do honestly try to follow my Lady's orders.” He grinned cheerfully, “It helps when they're consistent.”
She cast an imploring glance upward. “You're incorrigible.”
“Well, then.” He jumped to his feet, held out a hand. “Does that mean you intend to take me as I am?”
She laughed, caught at his fingers. “I suppose it does. That's a straight trade, after all.”
“So it is,” Galdan caught her up in his arms and smiled at her. “So it is. Well, then, Lady mine, what next?”
“You put me down,” she began severely.
“Not a chance, now that I've got hold of you? Next suggestion?”
She shook her head, laughed. “All right, then? You come back to Koderra, right now, and get out of these hides. They smell.”
“Ah.” He sniffed cautiously. “So they do—unless that's—no; of course it's not you. And?”
“And, Ylia said with smile to match his, “we find your Father's lists and put a new name at the top.”
“Now, with that, I wholly agree.” He kissed her lightly, set her on her feet, and held out a hand.
Epilogue
He stood in the shelter of the stone lintel; where he could gaze out over the sea, the harbor, and watch the incoming ships. Soon. He'd sensed it during the night: It had colored his dreams, mined his sleep. If he hates me—men have hated other men for that much; for less than that. But, no; he'd have known, if the boy had come for vengeance. Boy? He's no boy, he's grown. What boy he was—I lost that, long since.
His hands clenched. They had no right to exile him, damn them all to an endless night! As; so help me, I shall!
The dawn had come, gone, and the sky was clouded over again. Wind blew chill across the water, ruffling his sandy red hair, bringing with it the smell of the dead shellfish and greyish weed that littered the high tide mark. He drew the furred cloak closer, stepped back farther into shelter.
Alone. She wouldn't have waited anyway, not here: Not her way. It bothered him, though, that he'd been made aware of it. She had no right to make her dislike so clear to him, none. Whatever she meant to him, whatever he owed her. Oh, she'd aided him, helped him find the one he sought—he still, still couldn't do it alone! Only when she knew for certain he wouldn't foreswear it if she didn't.’
He stared down at his hands. Black flame licked at his nails faded as he willed it. Mine. Though it hadn't been for long and there wasn't much else he had, just now. Even memory was a chancy and sometime thing. There was still much he couldn't remember. The dagger: He remembered that dagger. Remembered, from somewhere deep in a flame-wrapped hellish dream, two women's voices: ‘I wish you joy of your lord, Marrita. Such as I left, you are welcome to!’ Marrita's reply, so broken with weeping it was scarcely understandable, fading by the moment: ‘I will have your death for this!’ The Lammior's Power: Thanks to women—to both of them—I have it. I will have it. Not that the other will have gratitude at my hands, in the end. No. She'll pay: for that dagger, for my pain. For his pain. For all of it.
Movement out to sea caught his eye as an approaching thought touched against his inner senses: A ship, black sail bellied with the wind, tacked across the harbor entrance, back again, and crew ran to bring the ebony fabric under control. As it came into calm water, he could make out individuals. The captain—his close-cropped red hair a beacon, even in such grey light—stood in the bows, shouting orders back to his men. Serve me well Brit Arren. There's reserve in your service to me, though you think you keep it hidden. Retain your Raider's pride, your doubts the odd thing even you dare not call conscience. Lock them in the holds of your mind—and serve me.
His thought was broken as the Fury came around and the anchors went down: A boat was lowered on the far side, came into view. Two common seamen rowed it, the captain himself—his back stiff with disapproval—steered. And in the bow, still facing to sea—Lyiadd caught his breath. Clenched his fists, hard to break the moment. Mine. Is it possible? And will he accept me, after so long a time? It was a boyishly slender figure, a straight back and light brown hair with none of his red to it. Hers was that color—Nala's. A little darker, perhaps. I've forgotten, it's been so long.
He pushed free of the doorway, walked down the paved path and out onto the dock as the boat came near. The seamen leaped out, held it against the dock. The passenger stepped up, the seamen stepped down; the boat went swiftly, back to the Fury.
Vess set his feet cautiously against the unmoving dock, brought his head up as footsteps thudded on the planking. Stopped. He stared at the man five paces away from him.
Father. He's tall, just as Mother said. But I remember the other thing now: the strength of him. He radiated it, that was what she said. Like a god, she said. His throat hurt.’
There's no hate in him, not for me, not for his father. I'd know. But he's been hurt; hurt badly. Blade-hurt, heart-hurt. His breath caught as his eyes fixed on the long, rough scar running down his son's face. Like hers. I marked her, just that way. I remember that.
Vess reached down to the sheath strapped to his boot, drew the silver dagger, held it out, hilts first. He swallowed hard. Brought up a smile. “Father?”
Lyiadd smiled in reply, took the remaining steps to bring them together, took the knife and Vess's other hand in his own. “My son.”
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1988 by Ru Emerson
Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media
ISBN 978-1-4976-0398-1
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
