Altaica

by Tracy M. Joyce

  After several trips to the wagon, Umniga felt exhausted. Her impatience had overridden her good sense. She thumped down the last load she could manage with an exasperated ‘Oomf!’ She chuckled. The mind might be willing but the body is not. Devi briefly woke and eyed her balefully from his roost under the lean-to. ‘And you can just shut up too! I don’t need a lecture from you. I know, I know—I’m old!’ Devi gave a little bark, ruffled his feathers and went back to sleep. Where is Asha? Surely, she should be back. Umniga stomped wearily inside, slammed the door and sat dejectedly at the table as she considered the remainder of her supplies. ‘Ach! Time for tea.’ She sighed, lifted her head from her hands and rose to open the door in anticipation of Fihr’s arrival: Fihr was too large to enter through a window. She prepared her tea and sat next to Asha’s bed—waiting.

  * * *

  Fihr circled the cottage, gliding ever closer to the ground, until, with powerful grace, he landed in the doorway. His smugness overwhelmed Asha. Show off! she told him. She could feel him begin to leave her and panicked. Fihr! I need to be closer. I need to see my body. Impatience and slight scorn confronted her. Bewildered, Asha attempted to cling to her link with Fihr. Fihr, stop! He stopped, but refused to enter the house. Asha felt his irritation soften, and with this her panic abated slightly, only to be replaced with surprise as his presence housing and guarding her expanded. Again, Asha could not grasp how this ‘door’ had opened; it had never opened when they weren’t hunting. She was acutely aware of her minuscule presence within an immense space. She waited, uncertain. Then another presence joined her; male or female she could not tell, but it dwarfed her. Her rising alarm was instantly quietened as she was embraced and taught. Images flowed into her mind, followed by reassurance.

  As the presence withdrew, Asha experienced a sense of falling, then found herself again with only Fihr as her companion. He remained silent and subdued, yet gently prodded her to action. She concentrated, Fihr complied and she detected nervous excitement from him as her vision changed. Asha could now discern her own and Fihr’s mixed auras, two slightly varying greens merging to create a more vibrant shade that appeared to pulse. From this, she saw a fine opaque thread of green leading into the cottage. Fihr fidgeted in anxious anticipation as he pushed at Asha. This was new—to follow the thread back to her body. Give me a minute, she thought. Fihr thrust her out of his mind.

  Asha panicked, trying to reconnect with him. A wall of resistance met her. Dismay almost overwhelmed her, until she realised she was fine. Fihr’s dark eyes bored into her. Think, Asha! She examined her form. Her image was an opaque green colour that matched her aura. Asha came to the realisation that this image was merely a projection of her consciousness; a shaping of her own power. She felt a pull upon her spirit a lure to simply travel, to see, to find another such power, to combine with it.

  This was the danger Umniga had inferred, of travelling without a guardian. She spun around and looked at the thread, desperate to connect with her body, and simply ‘walked’. As she approached the bed, she visualised the thread reeling in and her aura strengthened as it returned to her. Finally she ‘lay’ down in alignment with her physical form, experiencing a momentary disorientation as the two ‘snapped’ into place.

  Asha sat up, grinning widely at Umniga who was sitting opposite her bed, sound asleep. Fihr poked his head around the curtain to her alcove, fidgeting from side to side. She stood up quickly, was overcome by dizziness, groaned and sat back down.

  Umniga awoke. ‘Child, what are you doing? Take it slowly, you’ve been gone two days. You can’t just get up and dance about, for the love of all that’s holy!’ Umniga sat beside her and rubbed her back. ‘Just breathe slowly and deeply.’

  ‘Umniga, you’ve no idea what I just had to do.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Umniga watched Fihr intently. ‘Tell me.’ Asha related her tale, unsure why, but omitting the other presence and its guidance. ‘Smart bird that one,’ was all Umniga said.

  ‘How do the warriors do this? How do they bond and fight? I feel like I could sleep for an age now.’

  Umniga chuckled. ‘Their bond is different; perhaps not as deep. They do not travel as we do. Their guardians are given for a different purpose. The combination of skills from guardian and warrior has produced extraordinary feats, yet has great risk.’ Both the Kenati were sobered by this thought. ‘There are few born who have those talents and fewer Kenati who can do both. Wait here. I’ll make you some tea with honey.’

  When Umniga returned, Asha related everything that had happened at the lake.

  ‘Hmf! Better he had not told him at all. I don’t like putting you before him.’

  ‘I will be fine. I understand why Karan and Baldev want this.’

  Umniga shook her head. ‘Well, I’m going to leave today. When you’re rested you can help me get the wagon hitched and we’ll load the rest of the supplies. I want to be on that boat without Shahjahan’s men. Less likelihood that they’ll kill them all at sea then. If Karan times everything correctly, then all the clans should arrive together when I return with the strangers—hopefully after. When you go to Faros make sure you are in full traditional attire. Maybe that will add to the sense of importance and remind Shahjahan of our history.’

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE OLD CITY of Faros lay behind strong walls and the citadel stood within these fortifications at the edge of a cliff. The original hill had been excavated and the citadel built upon it. The citadel rested upon a huge, steeply sloping dry stone wall laid against rammed earth. Its timber walls were plastered and, while not white, they appeared so against the grey of the massive stone foundation, the slate roof, and the dark timbers and shutters that surrounded the windows.

  The outer city, beyond the walls, had developed over the years into a sprawling web of streets and alleys surrounded by houses of various shapes, sizes and construction—some large, some small, some clay brick, some timber, some reed and daubed walls. There was no consistency and no plan. In summer it was hot and dusty; in winter, cold, damp and muddy. Street drainage was either non-existent or comprised of simple spoon drains that ran out into the fields surrounding the town, or overflowed into the streets, turning some of them into rivers of effluent. Though it was not yet winter, Asha wrinkled her nose in disgust at the odours already wafting on the air.

  The road leading to the old city had become the main thoroughfare. It was lined with stores and even on this cool autumn day the streets were crowded. The merchants in this street had laid timber boardwalks along their frontages in an effort to combat the oncoming winter mire. Spruikers loudly hailed passers-by, trying to encourage them into shops. Only the most affluent merchants were situated along this street. Many side streets branched from this one and how closely a store was located to this main street was a mark of the success of that business.

  Fihr’s cry rent the air as he flew directly down the main thoroughfare, his shadow darkening the unwary below. Surprised eyes followed his flight. A murmur of wonder travelled down the street, followed by a dreadful stillness as those eyes were drawn to the rider who travelled in his wake. Asha groaned inwardly. She was uncomfortable with the attention this calculated entrance was drawing, but she held her head high, managing to appear unconcerned. She smiled at the curious looks of the small children and returned the respectful acknowledgement of the older folk with a reassuring soft smile. Many looked once, initially uncaring, then again—clearly annoyed by the cessation of their trading.

  Asha had worn full battle regalia, plus the traditional hooded cloak of a full Kenati. Her saddle was tooled along its edges with an intertwining pattern of oak and willow, which only the Kenati could display. The flaps of her saddle were embossed with a snarling boar’s head. Her leather bow quiver hung from one side of her saddle; the arrow quiver hung from the other. Both featured the same willow and oak pattern, as did her hand-painted bow. A kalkan shield also hung from her saddle. Its fine canes were individually covered
in green silk before being shaped into a circular shield with a spiral metal boss fixed into its centre.

  She wore tan, sturdy, knee-length leather boots, whose tops were tooled with willow and oak and whose centres featured a boar’s head. In the top of each boot were sheathed bone-handled daggers with silver pommels. Tucked into these boots were her loose, pale brown pants, over which she wore a light, long-sleeved, pale green woollen tunic. Protecting her torso was a shaped, boiled leather cuirass; on her arms were matching leather vambraces, both featuring a circular willow oak pattern around an eagle in flight. At her side hung a kilij with a silvery metal crosspiece and a katar. These weapons and armour were gifts from Lords Karan and Baldev. Over all this she wore her voluminous Kenati hooded cloak. It was a dense, yet soft woollen weave the colour of dry grass. This cloak was a recent gift to her, created by each of the Kenati elders upon the completion of her apprenticeship. Twining oak and willow bordered the cloak and a rearing horse and a standing bear were embroidered in its lower corners. A boar’s head clasp secured the cloak around her neck.

  Asha approached the barbican and curtain wall of the outer bailey. These were built upon a rammed earth foundation, faced with a dry stone wall, similar to the citadel. Above this foundation towered the barbican and the deep curtain wall, both of which were constructed of a mix of timber and stone. The timber had been originally rendered with plaster, to minimise the risk of fire. Towers and hoardings were built at regular intervals along the wall, all of which were peppered with loopholes. This structure had been built at the height of her clan’s power and should have filled her with pride—it did not and she mourned its loss.

  She could feel the curious eyes of the guards upon her. Asha had expected a mix of reactions to her entrance and appearance, but not the veiled hostility. Perhaps she and Umniga should have tried to maintain closer ties with the city folk. As she passed under the upraised portcullis and through the wall she could not help but eye the murder holes with trepidation.

  Within the outer bailey walls lay the old city. It was here that the older, wealthier merchant families resided and there was a marked contrast between the buildings within these walls and those without. The street took a deliberately circuitous route to the inner bailey and was lined with large sturdy houses. The rooftops of these houses were designed to allow for the positioning of archers should the need arise and massive gates were constructed at the junctions of the side streets. This deliberate maze of streets and gates was designed purely to confuse and trap any attacking force. Having not been here since she was a child, Asha would have been lost, if not for Fihr’s guidance.

  These streets, while more orderly than the market street of the outer city, were far from deserted. She passed men, women and children in brightly coloured, well-made clothes. However, their curious looks quickly turned to casual disregard as they went about their business. The journey through Faros left Asha deeply disturbed. She had not really believed it when Umniga told her that most of these people cared only for privileged lifestyles and trade, not Lore.

  At the barbican of the inner bailey she was stopped by two younger guards, who were surprised, sceptical and disrespectful when she stated who she was and that she needed to see the clan lord. Asha was losing patience and could feel Fihr’s hostile and anxious mind trying to merge with her. She calmed herself as Fihr landed on her outstretched arm. Both she and Fihr gave them a scathing stare.

  ‘Fetch your superior now! You do not stop Kenati.’

  Under their combined glare, the young guards looked worriedly at each other until one disappeared hurriedly into the nearby armoury. He returned with an older member of the guard, who took one look at Asha and smacked the young man on the back of the head.

  The older guard quickly approached Asha. ‘Forgive them, mistress, they are young idiots. It has been too long since we have seen a Kenati in the city. Is Umniga with you?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I am Asha. I must see Clan Lord Shahjahan.’

  He nodded. ‘Mistress Asha, no visitor may bear weapons within these walls. I would ask you to please leave your weapons with me.’

  ‘What? Does the clan lord fear his own Kenati?’

  ‘Mistress, these are the orders of the clan lord. All those entering beyond here, who are not part of the watch, must leave their weapons in our safekeeping. I must obey.’

  ‘This is outrageous.’

  The older guard held up his hands placatingly. ‘I’m sorry. I must. If you want to pass, then you must give us your weapons.’

  Asha’s lips drew into a thin line. The message must be delivered, she had no choice. She nodded tersely, dismounted and began to disarm. Handing her weapons to the young men galled her, though she took pleasure from their increasing consternation as the number of weapons grew.

  The older guard was barely restraining his smile at their expense. ‘Please wait here, mistress, while I put your things under lock and key. You will be escorted to the citadel.’

  Asha rode into the courtyard of the citadel accompanied by the two chastened, now entirely respectful younger guards. She smiled. Umniga would be livid at this treatment. Thank the gods she’s not here. They politely asked her to wait while they informed their commander of her presence. She lithely dismounted, waiting with what she hoped was an air of calm confidence. Fihr flew into the courtyard and landed on her saddle, ever watchful. The watch commander hurriedly emerged from a side building, knowing only that a Kenati was waiting in the courtyard. He stopped, transfixed by the sight before him. In the only sunlit place in the courtyard, a small, slender woman with short, spiky blonde hair stood at the shoulder of a dark palomino horse whose blonde mane and tail matched the hair colour of its rider. Poised on the saddle, glaring at him over the woman’s shoulder, was a massive sea eagle. Light appeared to radiate from them; he shuddered at the contrast between this image and this place.

  ‘Asha.’ He smiled as he greeted her. ‘Well met.’

  Asha grinned. ‘Vikram. Well met indeed.’

  Vikram shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t have come. You are not safe here.’ Asha’s smile faded. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘I need to see Shahjahan.’ Again he shook his head. ‘Vikram, I have news of the utmost importance for Shahjahan. This news affects all of Altaica.’ She briefly explained her purpose.

  ‘You are not going in there alone. I’ll come with you.’

  ‘I don’t want …’

  ‘Asha, I’m the captain of the watch. It’s my duty to accompany you. Don’t worry about me.’ Together, they entered the stone keep. Quietly, with a wry grin, Vikram continued, ‘You looked very impressive by the way. Staged beautifully.’

  Asha snorted. ‘If I had known you would be greeting me, I wouldn’t have bothered.’

  ‘You dressed the part too. I like it,’ he said silkily. ‘Wait here.’ They had stopped before a pair of massive doors that led to the main meeting hall. ‘Watch her,’ Vikram addressed two guards, who had promptly come to attention, before disappearing down a side corridor.

  Asha waited for what seemed like hours, during which the two guards remained impassively at attention. She wandered over to a window and stared absently at the courtyard. The timber window frame built into the stonework was weathered and, despite the fact that it had been recently re-oiled to preserve it, she could see that it was deteriorating, as were the hinges holding heavy wooden shutters. Frowning, she examined the courtyard more closely, noticing a patchwork of repairs, and more work to be done. She wondered at her surprise—why should the buildings not reflect the state of the clan? Asha could feel its slow death all around her.

  She started as Vikram put his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Asha? My apologies, I spoke but you did not hear. Come. It took some time, but the chancellor has agreed to approach High Lord Shahjahan to inform him of your visit.’

  ‘High lord?’

  Vikram’s expression soured. ‘Much has changed.’ He led her down several corridors, spar
sely decorated with tapestries and ancient weapons. ‘Ratilal calls himself “lord” as do others from amongst the wealthy families. Shahjahan is now “high lord”. ’

  She looked at him, slightly aghast. ‘Who decided this, Shahjahan or Ratilal?’

  ‘Guess. Shahjahan puts up with it to pacify him and the restless lords. There are many who want revenge for the annexation of our lands north of The Divide.’

  ‘Annexation. That’s a nice term for it. I suppose it’s better than saying they were outsmarted, outmanoeuvred and got their arses kicked.’

  ‘Careful.’ He continued in a soft voice, ‘They think they can win and want to restore some glory to the clan.’

  ‘Those days are over.’

  He shrugged as they halted before a plain wooden door. ‘You are to wait in here. I’ll return presently.’

  Asha entered the comfortably appointed room. A large rectangular table, surrounded by many comfortable chairs, was placed centrally and a fireplace dominated one end of the room. Above the mantel hung an ancient spear—a sinan—over which was mounted an enormous boar’s head. Two longer sinan stood on either side of the fireplace in ornate brackets. A dining room? No, a council room. A map of Altaica hung, gaping, from one wall. There was a massive tear in it where someone had slashed the land north of The Divide. A series of shelves behind her held many scrolls of varying ages, and against one wall stood a side table on which sat a ewer and metal goblets.

  Lost in thought, Asha did not hear the door open behind her. A firm hand landed on her shoulder, spinning her around. Ratilal leered down at her as he forced her backward against a wall.