As soon as he settled Igotzon and saw Frayvia, he needed to get back to the palace and find out what Eskarnor was up to.
RONNYN TOOK HIS mother’s cold hand. ‘Did you hear that, Ma? The T’En healer’s coming.’
But his mother didn’t respond. Her skin was pale, her lips bloodless. When the newborn whimpered, she didn’t respond.
‘Open this cart,’ a woman ordered.
Ronnyn looked up to see the silhouettes of two T’En women. One was only half a head taller than ferret-face, who fumbled with the padlock. The other was a full head taller than him.
‘Bring the lantern closer,’ the smaller woman told a Malaunje servant, as ferret-face swung the gate open.
Ronnyn blinked in the light. He’d never seen adult T’En before, and they appeared strange to him.
The smaller woman frowned. ‘Just look at the state of these poor children. Dressed in tatters, their hair all matted and filthy, caged like beasts.’
She glared at ferret-face, who backed off.
Aravelle caught Ronnyn’s eye. ‘Tell her.’
He raised his voice. ‘We asked them to fetch a midwife, but they wouldn’t. The baby was born all right, but...’ He trailed off because he didn’t want to worry the little ones. There was so much blood, he feared the worst.
The two T’En women exchanged looks.
‘This is Healer Reoden and I’m Causare Imoshen,’ the smaller one said. ‘You’re safe now. Come out, children, so the healer can get to your mother and the baby.’
The three little ones looked to him and Aravelle.
‘You take them,’ he said. ‘I’ll stay with Ma.’
She scrambled out with Itania in her arms, then helped Tamaron down. Vittor climbed out on his own.
‘Ronnyn?’ his mother whispered.
He leant close and she grasped his arm, with surprising strength, fixing determined eyes on him. ‘Promise me you’ll never forget your Malaunje kin. Swear it.’
‘I’ll never forget, Ma.’ His throat felt so tight he could hardly speak. ‘But the healer will save you. She’ll–’
The cart rocked on its axles as Healer Reoden climbed in and shuffled towards them on her knees, oblivious to the blood.
His mother released his arm and lay back, exhausted. Ronnyn edged away, so the healer could crawl closer to his mother.
‘The baby came, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop,’ he whispered. ‘We didn’t know what to do. You can fix her, can’t you?’
The healer looked grim as she took in the circle of blood. Then she rubbed her hands together and met his eyes. ‘I promise I will do everything within my power.’
He felt a rush of awareness, of sharpened senses, and realised he’d sensed her gift.
Just then, his baby brother whimpered. He went to pick up Ashmyr, but the healer stopped him.
‘Leave the newborn with me.’
Ronnyn hesitated.
‘Out you go.’
He glanced to his mother. She gave him a single nod.
It felt strange leaving her, as he scrambled to the end of the cart and climbed down next to the causare. When he did this, he realised two things: she carried an infant in a sling across her body, and she was the same height as him, which meant he was no taller than a small T’En woman. And to think, he’d believed himself a man.
Aravelle and the others stood at the entrance to the warehouse. As Ronnyn watched, one of the Malaunje servants draped his robe over Aravelle’s shoulders. But when Vittor and Tamaron tried to stand next to her, the Malaunje separated them. Ronnyn’s heart sank. This was why his parents had run away. He shivered.
‘You poor lad, you’re half-frozen.’ The causare rubbed his arms, and he felt a pulse of warmth that did not come from touch alone.
The way they summoned power, and guided it with ease, impressed him. But... ‘We thought we were being taken to the king for the bounty.’
‘I’m paying the bounty. That reminds me.’ She moved over to pay ferret-face.
The causare was the reason his father had been killed?
As she returned she saw his confusion. ‘The bounty ensures the Mieren deliver our people alive. Some of our estates have been attacked and everyone massacred.’
He shivered again. She took off her robe, settling it around his shoulders. It carried the warmth of her skin, a subtle, sweet scent and a hint of her gift, which was both exotic and rich.
‘Wait with the others. As soon as we return to the ship, we’ll find you some hot food and warm clothes.’
She went into the warehouse, and Ronnyn noticed ferret-face had left his father’s cane leaning against the cart wheel. He grabbed it in memory of Asher, hiding it under the robe.
Chapter Forty-Two
TOBAZIM RETURNED TO the platform beside the barricade.
‘Glad you’re here,’ Vetus said. ‘We’ve got company.’
Tobazim looked where he pointed, into the dip towards the rats-nest. Moonlight gleamed between scudding clouds, and he could just make out figures gathering under the tenements.
‘It’s just a pack of desperate slum dwellers. We should be able to fight them off,’ Tobazim said.
‘They have the numbers,’ Vetus warned. ‘And, with the abandoned carts and wagons, they have cover. If they make a concerted effort and storm the barricade, they’ll overrun it.’
He was right. Tobazim had been so focused on getting people and supplies aboard their ships, he’d lost track of the wharf’s defences. He’d never be a hand-of-force.
Spotting Athlyn, he jumped to the ground. ‘Go along the length of the barricade to the sea. Tell them to be on alert. The rats are gathering.’
The youth nodded and ran off.
Tobazim looked in the other direction and spotted another T’En youth. ‘You, come here.’
When the youth turned, he realised it was Imoshen’s choice-son, Iraayel. Tobazim had been going to tell him to run down the barricade towards the cliff, but he sent him to warn the causare instead.
Just then Ardonyx caught up with Tobazim. ‘You’ll never believe who came back from the dead. Kyredeon’s assassin. We’ll have to... What’s wrong?’
‘The rats are gathering. They might be half-starved skinny brats armed with knives and homemade cudgels, but there’s hundreds of them. I have to warn the defenders on the barricade. Wait here.’
But Ardonyx paced alongside Tobazim as he strode towards the cliffs, warning the barricade defenders. He didn’t like it. They were too strung out. They should draw back and form a smaller defensive perimeter, but he didn’t want the rats looting their supplies. He would have to bring in more defenders from the ships.
When they reached the end of the barricade, Ardonyx drew him aside. ‘We need to reinforce the–’
The ragged screams of attacking Mieren cut him off. It sounded like they were concentrating their assault on the gate. Tobazim went to go help, but Ardonyx caught his arm, pointing to the cliff. At least two dozen dark figures slid down on ropes, with more coming.
‘Those are not half-starved skinny brats armed with knives and homemade cudgels,’ Ardonyx whispered. ‘They’re strongarms, and they’re coming in behind our defences. We have to retreat to the ships.’
AT THE SOUND of the screams, Sorne spun around to see dozens of thin, desperate Mieren storming the barricade gate. Valendia was safe on the ship, but the children...
He grabbed Igotzon’s shoulders. ‘When you get to the causare’s ship, ask for Frayvia.’ Then he ran through the stacked supplies towards the cart, where he found the five children huddled together outside the warehouse.
‘Quickly, come with me.’
‘We can’t leave our mother–’ the eldest girl protested.
The boy pointed to the cart. ‘Our baby brother’s still in there.’
As Sorne thrust his head into the cart, he sensed the healer’s power, but she was closing the mother’s eyes. ‘Mieren are attacking. Come quick.’
‘I’ll get Imoshen.’ She
picked up the newborn, tucking him inside her vest. ‘You take the children to the ship.’
Sorne nodded.
He darted back to the children. ‘Come with me.’
They hesitated.
He scooped up the four-year-old boy and headed for the stairs. The girl took the six-year-old’s hand and the eldest boy picked up the toddler.
Sorne led them through the maze of stores and supplies. The shouting and clash of metal told him the barricade was holding, for now.
When they reached the stairs, Sorne found piles of abandoned possessions littering the steps. About a dozen people still waited on the floating jetty, and several dangerously overloaded rowboats were heading towards the ships. Trusting that the rowboats would return, Sorne led the children down the steps. When he reached the jetty, he couldn’t spot Igotzon. He hoped the scholar was in one of those boats.
‘We should have waited for Ma and the baby.’ The oldest boy looked up the stairs, as if he was thinking of going back for them.
‘Wants Ma,’ the small boy in Sorne’s arms whimpered.
Sorne felt for him, for all the children. Now was not the time to tell them their mother was dead. He almost asked after their father, but suspected the worst.
Just then a rowboat returned, and everyone piled in.
‘To the causare’s ship,’ Sorne told the oarsmen.
AS SOON AS Imoshen slipped into the warehouse, the little boy spotted her and ran to her side. She hushed him and beckoned Egrayne. ‘There are more children outside, desperately in need of a bath, warm clothes and food. I think they must be the children of loners like these two. We need to go back to the ship. We can–’
‘Everyone out,’ Iraayel said, even as he thrust the warehouse door open. ‘The Mieren are massing to attack.’
The Malaunje started to pack up, but before they could finish, the roar of attacking Mieren came through the open door.
‘Leave everything,’ Egrayne ordered. ‘Go.’
The boy whimpered. As Imoshen cupped his cheek, she felt a shiver of fear run through him and her gift surged. She caught a glimpse of his thoughts... no, it was a memory. She saw two bodies amidst the wreckage of a one-room cottage, heard a baby crying and found the poor little thing, hidden in the chicken coop.
She dropped to a crouch, taking the boy’s shoulders in her hands. ‘You’re safe. You’re both safe.’
He didn’t believe her.
‘Iraayel, come here.’
She took the boy’s chin in her hand, held his eyes and let him feel the force of her gift. ‘This is my choice-son, Iraayel. He’s very brave. He’ll protect you.’
The boy’s gaze dipped to the sleeping baby tucked against Imoshen’s chest.
‘And I’ll protect her. Come.’ Imoshen sprang to her feet.
They were the last out the warehouse door and they found the healer climbing out of the cart. She carried a newborn tucked inside her vest. Imoshen’s gift surged. Reoden would protect the infant with her life.
‘The mother?’ Imoshen asked.
‘Dead.’
‘Where are the children?’
‘Sorne took them to the ship.’
The roar of the fighting was so loud she could hardly hear herself think.
Two skinny Mieren youths ran towards them, swinging cudgels. The youths paused to look them over, but Egrayne advanced towards them. She had been a gift-warrior, and it showed in the way she moved. The two youths took off, in search of easier prey.
‘Come quick.’ Egrayne led them towards the steps.
They dodged supplies and running Malaunje, some of whom were making for Kyredeon’s ship, while others ran for the steps and the floating jetty.
But when they reached the steps, the jetty was empty but for discarded possessions, and an overloaded rowboat was already halfway back to the vessels.
‘To the brotherhood ship,’ Imoshen cried. They ran around piles of supplies. She glanced towards the warehouse and saw Ardonyx and Tobazim, with a dozen defenders, coming her way.
TOBAZIM RAN ALONG the barricade, driving the defenders back to the ships as the brigands came down the cliffs behind them. Ardonyx ran at his side, bent double over his stomach wound. Tobazim heard a shout and glanced behind them.
Slum rats spilled over the deserted barricade. But instead of coming after the defenders, the rats made for the supplies, focused on looting.
A band of about thirty brigands had gathered at the base of the cliff. One of them pointed at Tobazim’s group, and they gave chase, weapons drawn.
Tobazim swung his arm under Ardonyx’s shoulder and ran. Ahead of them, the two Mieren who had delivered the latest cartload of children were trying to turn their cart and pony to escape.
As Tobazim and the defenders darted around the cart, he saw Imoshen and the others with the little boy.
‘You can’t fight. You can barely run,’ Tobazim told Ardonyx. ‘Take the causare to the ship. I’ll buy you time.’
Without waiting for a reply, Tobazim turned back to deal with the brigands. He hauled the crooked-toothed youth off the cart seat and put his shoulder to the cart, tipping it over. The older Mieren who’d been leading the pony objected and the pony panicked. Tobazim cut it free from its traces then slapped its rump, driving it towards the brigands. To his right, he saw several defenders piling up supplies to form a barrier.
They were level with the barricade gate and all the defenders were concentrated in this one area, protecting Ardonyx’s ship and the stairs to the nearest floating jetty. He didn’t know how the rest of his people were coping on the other arm of the wharf. He had to trust they would escape from the floating jetty, and the ship would be able to cast off.
When the brigands reached the makeshift barricade, they came around each end, funnelled towards the waiting defenders. As a burly Mieren attacked him, Tobazim fought the temptation to reach for his gift. He blocked, brought his second knife around and gutted the man.
One of his people fell; his killer stripped him of his valuables before returning to the fray.
A brigand with three sets of torcs down his arm lunged for Tobazim, who ducked, kicked the man’s knee and stabbed him before he could regain his balance. There was no time to retrieve the arm-torcs.
Step by step, Tobazim and his people fell back. He saw Captain Vetus and three of the barricade defenders running in their direction. The king’s guard stumbled as he was struck over the head. A horde of slum rats poured over him, cheering and whooping as they scattered to loot the supplies.
The three Malaunje warriors joined Tobazim. He was down to half a dozen able-bodied defenders. At least Ardonyx had escaped.
He wondered if they could make it to the floating jetty and glanced behind him, only to see Ardonyx guiding the causare and the others along the edge of the wharf towards the steps.
With a curse, he ran to meet them at the top of the stairs. ‘What happened? I thought you were taking them to your ship.’
‘I was, but Kyredeon cast off before we could get there.’ Ardonyx was furious.
A dozen cheering slum rats ran past. Others loaded crates onto already-overloaded carts but the brigands kept coming. This was no random attack. Tobazim saw them pointing to the boy Iraayel was trying to protect.
Imoshen gestured to the floating jetty, which was covered in abandoned possessions. ‘We’ll have to trust they send back the rowboats.’
‘Go.’ Tobazim shoved Ardonyx.
While the others went down to the jetty, Tobazim returned to the last of the defenders.
They fought a rearguard action to the stop the stairs, then backed down, holding off the brigands, who now had the advantage of the high ground.
The last woman warrior plunged off the steps, taking one of the brigands with her. A Malaunje warrior moved into her place, but almost immediately a lucky sword thrust skipped over his defence and took him in the throat. His attacker thrust him aside.
As the Malaunje warrior toppled into the dark bay, Tobazi
m glanced over his shoulder to see the T’En women on the floating jetty shielding the boy, while Ardonyx signalled the nearest ship.
Still no sign of a rowboat, and they were only four steps from the jetty. Iraayel drew his long-knives. Egrayne had found a sword.
He looked up the steps, seeing at least fifteen brigands jostling to attack them. They had to put to sea.
Tobazim was reminded of the night they’d escaped the winery on a floating jetty. He turned to the last two defenders on the stairs. ‘Hold them.’
Then he hacked at the rope that tied the jetty to the stair bollard. The rope was as thick as his wrist and tough. A brigand jumped onto the jetty behind him, and another followed. Iraayel tackled the second, as the first tried to run Tobazim through. Sidestepping the blow, Tobazim kicked his attacker into the water and freed one end of the jetty.
Then he darted around the fighting figures. The second rope’s thick fibres seemed to take forever to cut through. Finally, he shoved the jetty away from the steps.
Four or five of the brigands were still with them. One tried to make the jump, and Tobazim kicked him into the sea. Egrayne was only using one arm, but the last Malaunje warrior caught her attacker from behind and held him, while she dispatched him. Reoden and Imoshen shielded the little boy with their bodies. Iraayel struggled with a brigand who tried to throw him into the sea. Ardonyx was on his knees wrestling, blood soaking his belly and thighs.
Tobazim went to help him, but a brigand came out of nowhere, swinging a cudgel at his head. He tried to duck. Too slow. The cugel struck him above one eye. Stunned, he fell to his knees, head swimming. The brigand raised the cudgel to brain him, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. His body refused to obey him.
The causare appeared behind the brigand. She touched the man’s neck and he dropped like a sack of grain. She didn’t even lose consciousness as she ripped the Mieren’s life force from his body and sent it to the higher plane. Tobazim shuddered at this casual display of power.
She did the same to the brigand who had Ardonyx by the throat, then went to help Iraayel, but he had already thrown his attacker into the sea.
Exile Page 46
