The Company of Glass

by Tricia Sullivan

  ‘It sounds a bit vague,’ Xiriel commented.

  ‘Fair, but silly,’ Pallo added. ‘I’ll see if there are some wooden swords about somewhere.’

  ‘I don’t want to fight,’ said Pentar. ‘Even wooden swords can be dangerous. I will not hurt Istar.’

  ‘Then Istar will have to hurt you,’ she snarled under her breath.

  Kassien was watching her, and he smiled a little. ‘Are you having fun?’ he mouthed.

  Pallo came back with some sticks he’d found. The two squared off, Pentar protesting to the last. Istar sallied against him, knocking him back a couple of times, always going to his legs to try to unbalance him. Pentar fought left-handed and he seemed slow; she picked up on the periodicity of his movement and cut into it, stabbing for his midsection and slicing at his leg on the way out.

  ‘Close with him, Istar,’ coached Kassien. ‘If he had armour on you’d never penetrate it like that.’

  Istar ignored him. If she closed with Pentar, he’d use his superior weight and strength against her. She had to dart in and out of his range, breaking him down a little at a time until he made a mistake.

  ‘Those are butterfly kisses!’ Kassien taunted from the sidelines. ‘Cut him, Star!’

  Pentar showed no interest in the emotional byplay going on between Kassien and Istar. He behaved like a friendly opponent, showing no dismay even when Istar sliced him repeatedly and nearly disarmed him once. Then he knocked her down and backed off while she got up. As far as he was concerned, this wasn’t a real fight.

  All right, Istar thought. I’ve had enough of you. She charged, cutting angle after angle as she went, driving Pentar back so that the onlookers had to give way. All the while her eyes bored into him. She set out to destroy his gentleness, which she hated all the more because it was directed at her unasked for. It was as if he had wiped out her very existence as a person, an Honorary. She opened up and let it out, and Pentar was forced to parry and retreat at a frantic speed. But she had spent herself, and he caught her a glancing blow on the shoulder; she ducked, went for his gut, and his blade came down on the back of her head with so much force that she was knocked flat, dizzied.

  ‘That’s it,’ Kassien called. ‘Match over. Pentar wins.’

  Pallo was bending over her trying to help and she knocked him aside effortlessly; he went flying. She climbed to her feet, weaving from side to side, and faced Pentar, of whom she was seeing two.

  ‘All right, you bastard – fairly won. You’re in. But stay clear of me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he stammered. ‘Have I hurt you? I didn’t want to hit you so hard but you pressed me.’

  Pallo interceded, steering Istar away before she could draw her real sword.

  ‘He was lucky,’ he told her, tugging on her braids and slapping her back to distract her. ‘He was lucky, and in a real fight you’d have sliced his legs to ribbons before he ever got near you.’

  ‘He won,’ Istar said, astounded. ‘He’s good. I overestimated myself.’

  ‘Hey, it was just a practice bout. Don’t take it so seriously.’ Pallo squinted worriedly in the sun.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘Maybe I needed something to wake me up.’

  Istar walked on ahead of the others, leaving Kassien to make his tearful farewells out of her sight. As she walked, her stomach calmed. The others caught up with her one at a time. The light rested thick as honey on the sea plateau, and the grass was still in the evening heat. Their shadows walked tall and certain. Istar looked at hers and tried pretending she was big enough to fill it.

  Finally a Confabulation

  By the time Lerien had pulled together his motley collection of escaped Clan soldiers, they found themselves trailing the army on a parallel course, following the line of the last hills of the Everien Range. At their southern end the mountains ceased abruptly, giving way to flat grassland that stretched between the gates of Everien and the sea. All this land would have been a tidal plain, except that it had been lifted a thousand feet along the fault line of the Everien Range in a straight line: Everien, its bordering tide plain and all its mountains towered over the neighbouring Ristale from a height of a thousand feet. Thus the cliffs in which were hid the monitor towers; thus the virtual impenetrability of the high valley now deserted by its ancient owners.

  The army was already approaching the geological anomaly that raised Everien up, and if Lerien attempted to overtake them, he would be trapped between the army and the side of the sea plateau and cut to shreds. Nor could he risk circling around the Pharicians from the other side. They had apparently regained control of their men, and they could easily send out a party to destroy Lerien’s ragtag group without breaking stride if Lerien should make the mistake of getting too close. He had no choice but to hang back while the Pharician force began swarming up the ramps and steps that generations of traders had cut in the wall of rock supporting the plateau.

  They were now only a few miles away from sea, and decisions would have to be made imminently. He now realized that a good deal of the success gained by his mission of sabotage must have been caused by Tarquin’s temporary wresting of power from the ruling Sekk. His newfound confidence was informed by caution, for Kivi had been the first of his original party to find him again, that night under shelter of the cliffs.

  ‘It had an Artifact of some kind,’ Kivi repeated. ‘I wasn’t close enough to see it closely, but it was not a mere Eye. To judge by Tarquin’s reaction when he saw it, the thing was possibly a Glass.’

  ‘What Glass? The Glasses have only ever been found in Jai Pendu!’

  ‘I know. But I can’t imagine what else it might have been. They fought over it. Tarquin fought like a god. I have never seen such swordplay. He was tireless, and when he engaged with the Sekk everything around stopped. Even the Pharicians couldn’t help watching. That was when I noticed the spell was weakening. The Sekk held the sword in one hand and the Glass in the other, and although it wasn’t able to wound Tarquin, it eluded him in the most spectacular manner. No matter what he did, no matter how inspired his timing or his tricks, he could not hit it. But the men around began to wake up. Soon a shout went up that Tarquin the Free was amongst them, and the riders … the phantom riders, Lerien, they are his Company! They, too, came to a halt and watched.’

  While Kivi was talking, Lerien studied the swarms of Enslaved as they made their way up the side of the sea plateau. The steep parts were ruddy where nothing would grow, and the ramps used by traders’ carts made zigzags up the thousand-foot-high incline. Stretched out thus into a long procession, the enemy force looked even bigger. Infantry climbed long flights of steps cut in the clay generations upon generations ago. There was something inexorable about their progress that held Lerien’s attention.

  Kivi was saying, ‘I went among the Clan soldiers and told them to run before they were Enslaved again, and the Pharicians did not take kindly to this, although they, too, seemed dazed. Then Tarquin faltered. It was as if he had lost his magic, and I shouted encouragement to him and I think he heard me, and he resumed the fight. After a moment he got his concentration back and again they battled. I didn’t see all of it, for I was trying to wake up our warriors. When I looked again, they were on the ground, and Tarquin was holding the Glass and the Sekk Master was on his back. And the ghost riders, they put away their weapons and started coming through the crowd towards Tarquin and the Sekk.’

  He paused, licking his lips, his eyes darting away as if remembering some fear.

  ‘And then what?’ Lerien prompted.

  ‘And then Tarquin disappeared.’

  ‘You mean he was displaced? Like a window in Jai Khalar?’

  ‘I suppose. One moment he was there, the next moment the Sekk was standing up and looking through the Glass at the riders, and they drew their weapons again and rode off. Then the Pharician officers started whipping their men back to order, and I ran. I tried to take Clan soldiers with me but they would not listen to me. I
guess I do not look very convincing.’

  ‘You look like a bleeding cinder,’ Lerien said. ‘Well, Tarquin has not defeated the Sekk. It is still a danger.’

  ‘My lord, there’s something else. It’s the Carry Eye—’

  Lerien’s eyes flashed bright, hoping to have finally a confabulation with Jai Khalar. ‘Have you Seen Mhani?’

  ‘No, but—’

  Lerien waved him silent. More riders were approaching from behind along the plain. Lerien dropped under cover of some scrub maples and drew his sword.

  ‘Stavel!’ he cried, and leaped out into the open, spreading his arms in welcome.

  The Wolf looked weary, but he was unhurt, and Lerien was pleased with the complement of warriors that had managed to break free and ride off on Pharician horses. There were nearly forty men in good condition and a handful with wounds that would handicap them in battle. Of those he spoke to, some said there were more escapees on the way, and others spoke of Clansmen getting free on foot and hiding in the crevices of the hills. In the middle of the reunion, Ketar, Miro and Taro came riding up with another group of Clan warriors and a bound Pharician prisoner.

  Ketar gave Lerien a broad, proud grin. ‘This Pharician is a swordsman to be reckoned with, but he was no match for me on the ground. Jakse has taught me submission holds that work wonders with big brutes like this. Next time I see Jakse he’s getting a big kiss from me.’ Ketar slapped the bound prisoner across the back and received a snarl in response.

  Lerien said, ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Sharek.’

  Lerien was bigger than most of his subjects, but the Pharician towered over him. When he was allowed to dismount, he stretched luxuriantly as if to emphasize his physical superiority and indicate that, though captive, he was not afraid of any of them. The scarring on his body was symmetrical, the result of manhood rituals, unlike the random distribution of damage that told – for example – Tarquin’s history. Sharek’s musculature was angular and swollen, and with every small movement the chains on his arms and legs rattled. They looked more like a part of some costume than a real restraint. He sucked his teeth and spat. Very white teeth showed.

  ‘You have been subject to a Sekk Master,’ Lerien said in Pharician, glancing sidelong at Kivi. ‘Do you understand what that means?’

  ‘It was a privilege,’ Sharek said. ‘His is a mind of exceptional clarity. I would willingly have him rule over me. I’ve been separated from him, but I’ll get back.’

  ‘Tell me about him.’

  ‘You are his enemy. I will tell you nothing.’

  ‘Are you a Slave now?’

  ‘I don’t know what that means. I belong to him.’

  ‘Yet you clearly have your wits.’

  ‘Great glory he has promised us,’ Sharek said, his eyes glossy with emotion. ‘He rides with Animal warriors out of history, and he will take us to faraway places, to see strange sights and be famed and go into legend. We could feel it as the moon grew. The round moon in the blue sky of evening meant that we were coming near the end of our journey.’

  Kivi had approached, still holding the Carry Eye. He glanced at Lerien anxiously. ‘He remains under sway of the Sekk,’ he muttered.

  ‘Kill him,’ Lerien said. ‘Make it quick, and simple. And stay away from his body after he is dead.’

  He turned to the other Clansmen who had got free, scowling. ‘How many of you feel the same? How many of you still wish you were with this Sekk Master? Do not look away from me!’

  He saw shame on many faces, and fear. He didn’t see untruth. Ivren was the only one bold enough to speak.

  ‘In dreams sometimes we do acts we would not do in life. Such was the feeling of walking behind the Sekk. We are awake now.’

  ‘See you stay that way.’ Lerien commanded sternly. He glanced at Kivi for reassurance.

  ‘It’s not a simple Slaving spell,’ Kivi said. ‘But I think these are free, or they would not be here.’

  ‘We’re moving out,’ Lerien suddenly announced. ‘The sooner we get up on to the sea plateau, the happier I’m going to be. Take half an hour to see to your injuries and water your horses. Kivi – come.’

  He took Kivi apart from the others. The Seer said, ‘My lord, when I look in the Eye now, all I see are Quintar’s Company with their weapons bared, riding and riding. It seems to me that this Sekk has invoked their ghosts, and uses them against us. It must have interfered with the Eyes, tricked us into seeing what was not there.’

  ‘The Sekk,’ Lerien said darkly. ‘One does not wish to understand them, eh, Kivi? They are like no other enemy. They don’t hold land. They want no empire, or so it seemed until now, with this capture of Ristale’s army. They Enslave the strong if they can, use them to kill the weak, and spare the ones in the middle, like us. Or so it seems to me.’

  Kivi nodded empathetically. He held the Carry Eye in his cupped hands as if he wanted to say something about it, but Lerien was not in the mood to entertain new theories.

  ‘All my life, Kivi, have I stood in their shadows. The great warriors, dead or vanished, they have left it to me to fill their places, and I cannot. Everything I do, I know it is not enough. I can never live up to the legends.’

  ‘Isn’t that the nature of legends?’ Kivi suggested. ‘They are larger than life, to inspire us.’

  ‘You don’t remember Chyko, then. Or Lyetar. Or Ysse for that matter.’

  ‘When the great disappear, the ordinary can grow to fill their places. We have no choice but to perform. Maybe we, too, can become great, for whatever must be done, must be done by us.’

  ‘No,’ Lerien said. ‘Talent is talent. I will not delude myself that I have more of it than I do. Great warriors are born.’ He laughed. ‘You heard what Sharek said about the Sekk. Said he would do anything to stay with him. That he would die for him. That is a great leader. Yet you stand here and argue with me! I don’t see you offering to throw your life at my feet.’

  ‘I argue with you because you allow me to.’

  ‘I’m not a dumb brute. Which is apparently what is called for in a war leader.’ Rain had begun to fall. Lerien paced towards his horse with no particular intention beyond getting out of the way of this irritating Seer. Kivi followed him.

  Kivi said, ‘Our last leader was an Honorary. A female! I doubt anyone could call Ysse a dumb brute.’

  ‘She reaped the bounty of Jai Pendu. So, in his dark way, did Tarquin. So must I. I have no chance without the Knowledge.’ He looked towards the sea as he said it.

  ‘Are we not returning to Jai Khalar, then? You promised Tarquin to mount a defence, to evacuate—’

  ‘I’m the king,’ Lerien snapped. ‘I’m going to Jai Pendu.’

  Kivi fell silent.

  ‘What is left to lose? Jai Khalar can resist a siege. The high villages have already been abandoned. Our army is lost, except for these few. I will not return to Jai Khalar only to sit and take advice. I’m not a Pharician Emperor, as we have just seen. I’m a Clan leader and that’s how I’ll behave. If you doubt me, leave me: you are not of my Clan and I will Free you if you wish. But I will not shame my Bear forefathers by skulking in some castle studying campaign maps.’

  ‘Your Bear forefathers didn’t have to contend with the Sekk. Or the Knowledge.’

  Lerien turned and placed a heavy hand on the Seer’s shoulder. He knew he was now resorting to the very approach he had just decried. ‘In Clan times, you would have had little status, Kivi. I could kick you up and down this camp and drink tea at the same time.’

  Kivi’s eyes blazed. ‘You underestimate me.’

  ‘Do I?’ The rain lay bright on Lerien’s face and hair, and he whirled at the sound of hoofbeats. ‘I would like you to have the chance to prove it.’

  Jakse arrived, hell-for-leather out of the wind and rain, spooking the other horses and causing a commotion as he leaped from the saddle.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Ketar shouted, springing up from among his rescued kinsmen an
d running towards the Snake.

  ‘There is a Pharician cavalry unit hard on my heels. They came across the plain from the south-east, near the coast. They looked as if they were making for the Floating Lands as well, but they have seen you lot and now they are on their way to sort you out.’

  Lerien took this in; then he turned to the young, blond Seahawk. ‘Ketar,’ Lerien said, ‘You know I don’t trust you.’

  ‘No, my lord.’

  ‘But if you make a ruin of this order, you’ll be dead I’m sure. so either way you are out of my hair.’

  ‘Yes, my lord. What do you want me to do, my lord?’

  ‘Ride to meet this cavalry unit. Say that all of us are only a small party scouting for your king, Lerien – you can fill in all my titles and honours for yourself – and that if they trespass on the sea plateau that is grounds for war.’

  Ketar was practically jumping up and down. ‘Yes, my lord. A bold plan.’

  ‘See what they say, and then ride back to me. Under no circumstances do I wish their leader to know that this is the only army we have. You do understand that, Ketar?’

  ‘Of course, Le – my lord!’ Ketar was indignant. ‘It is only a ruse.’

  ‘Go on, then. Before they get too close. And Ketar!’

  The Seahawk was fidgeting, eager to be off.

  ‘Don’t be too belligerent.’

  ‘I will be the soul of courtesy,’ Ketar said.

  Of Ghosts and Green Earth

  Tarquin was alone in a general darkness. He couldn’t remember the details of the fight he’d been dragged out of, but he could feel its intensity guarding his back, for the fight was what he knew and understood, and this place where he was now, this state of mind – it was entirely alien. A sword and an enemy were all he’d ever wanted, but he had neither, and her smell was in his nostrils, the silk of her skin fingerprinting his memory. But she was gone, leaving her words behind.

  We are in the garden, where we always meet.

  He stirred. A warm stone surface was beneath him. He pressed his palms against it and slowly sat up, reassured by the grains of grit that stuck in his skin, for they gave him some feeling of reality. His body was relaxed, watery; like a seal out of water he was sleek and slow. Around him were fuzzy sounds. He focused his attention on the blur of noise and realized that he was hearing the rush of battle, but from some distance and as though underwater. The air here was still and heavy and green-smelling.