Authors: Rowena Cory Daniells
As for Graelen, he refused to leave and the two initiates hesitated, not sure what to do.
‘If you won’t go, make yourself useful,’ Vittoryxe said. She was too angry to touch Egrayne; her defences might not be good enough to hide her true feelings. ‘Help her.’
Graelen stepped forward and offered his shoulder for the big warrior to lean on.
At Egrayne’s touch, he froze, then sank to his knees. Eyes closed, Egrayne felt his neck, then his jaw and up his cheeks until her fingertips touched his temples. Her eyelids flickered, eyes rolling back in her head.
‘What’s happening?’ Arodyti whispered.
Lealeni opened her mouth but nothing came out.
Both initiates looked to Vittoryxe, who shrugged, torn between fear and irritation. If she ever became gift-tutor, she would study all the treatises until she knew everything there was to know. Impatience made her voice harsh. ‘What happened seventy years ago, Lealeni?’
‘That time, the gift-warrior didn’t come back. An empyrean beast came through. It took over her body. We only managed to kill it because it was trying to control both her body and her devotee’s.’
Egrayne let Graelen go. As he pitched forward into the leaf litter, the gift-warrior staggered back a couple of steps, gasping.
Meanwhile, the lad pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He sat back on his heels and lifted a sleepy face to them, looking younger than his sixteen years. ‘What happened?’
‘He’s a gift-warrior,’ Egrayne whispered, voice hoarse. She rubbed her face, hands trembling. ‘I sensed the nature of his gift and understood its purpose.’
‘Only an empowerer could do that,’ Vittoryxe protested. ‘Your gift isn’t–’
‘It is now.’ Egrayne showed no doubt. ‘I know what I sensed.’
‘Sometimes...’ Lealeni began slowly, ‘sometimes a life-changing event can unlock a new facet of a T’En’s gift. I can’t wait to tell the all-mother we have a gift-empowerer in our sisterhood.’ The gift-tutor’s voice rose with excitement. ‘The other sisterhoods will have to bring their budding T’En children to us. Egrayne, you–’
The gift-warrior moaned, dropped to her knees and threw up on the leaf litter.
‘Help her, Vittoryxe. And Kiane’ – the gift-tutor turned to the initiate and gestured to the lad – ‘help him. Back to camp, everyone. The sooner we return to the city, the sooner the all-mother can claim stature for our sisterhood!’
Which was all very well for the sisterhood, but no good for her. Vittoryxe hid her resentment as she moved forward to help the gift-warrior... no,
gift-empowerer
to her feet. Egrayne’s sudden elevation had completely eclipsed her efforts tonight. An empyrean kill and saving the lad’s life should have given her great stature. Just her luck for it to happen the night Egrayne gained a devotee and became an empowerer.
Egrayne was well on her way to becoming the sisterhood’s next all-mother. The realisation rocked Vittoryxe. It was so unfair. Why couldn’t she develop a new facet to her gift?
How could she compete with an empowerer?
Should she seduce Egrayne and settle for becoming the sisterhood’s hand-of-force or voice-of-reason? No, she didn’t see why she should have to settle for second best. A surge of anger lent Vittoryxe strength, as she helped Egrayne to her feet.
‘You’re stronger than you look,’ Egrayne muttered.
‘You’ve no idea. Are you alright?’
Egrayne nodded. Then took a couple of unsteady steps. ‘My legs don’t seem to be working properly.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll get you home safe.’ More’s the pity.
Chapter Nine
I
RIAN HALTED HIS
horse in the jostle at the causeway entrance. It was late afternoon, and Mieren merchants who had ventured into the free quarter to trade were making their way back to the town on the lake’s shore.
Although he was glad to be home, he dreaded it. Now they would have to report the infant’s death to All-mother Aayelora’s sisterhood. His brotherhood had been handing over their T’En newborns to this sisterhood for four hundred years, and the thought of lying to these powerful women made his gut cramp. Even the sight of the city, bathed in the golden glow of the westering sun, could not cheer him.
In front of him, the causeway stretched, a thin ribbon of bridge, wide enough for two carts to pass each other. It was made of the same white limestone as the city walls. To the left, just outside these walls, enterprising merchants from the other six kingdoms had built houses on poles. This was the foreign quarter, and it was connected to the causeway by a bridge.
The causeway ended in the great gates. Each evening when the Mieren were turned out, these gates were closed and secured. Behind them, on the lowest end of the island, the brotherhood formed a barrier to defend the city.
From here he could see their defensive walls, between three and four storeys high. Behind and above the walls were the rooftop gardens, towers and spires of the brotherhoods’ palaces.
Further up, the ground rose into the area known as the free quarter. Here there were shops leased by foreign merchants or run by enterprising brotherhoods and sisterhoods, theatres, places to dine and mingle, and the empowerment dome, which had not been used for its true purpose since the last empowerer died.
The free quarter provided a buffer for the sisterhood quarter, which lay behind another wall. On the island’s peak, the golden domes and intricate lace-edged towers of the sisterhood palaces shone in the setting sun. All this reflected in the mirror-like surface of the lake.
The sisterhoods dominated the island, just as they dominated the T’Enatuath.
What Rohaayel had set in motion, hiding his female T’En child on Lighthouse Isle, could not be undone, and Irian experienced a heady mix of trepidation and excitement.
He was about to urge his horse onto the causeway, when a woman’s voice ordered him to wait. Twisting in the saddle, he saw that a sisterhood party had come up behind them. The speaker was a young, arrogant gift-warrior. She wore a torc of silver with one freshly carved symbol, showing she had recently slain an empyrean beast.
And she was determined to claim precedence.
His instinct was to insist his party cross first, but Voice-of-reason Ardeyne touched his arm. Leaning close, he spoke in a whisper. ‘Let them pass. We don’t want to attract attention.’
Irian frowned. If he would normally object, then surely letting them pass would be suspicious. But even as he opened his mouth to argue this, Ardeyne gave a gracious gesture and ushered the sisterhood party past, giving them precedence.
The young gift-warrior led her people onto the causeway. Several Malaunje warriors and servants followed. A T’En lad rode by. He flushed when Irian caught him looking, and glanced down.
Irian hid a smile. He could remember being that age; how he’d longed to join his brotherhood and make a name for himself! Those last few years in the sisterhood had grated. Turning seventeen could not come too soon.
A newborn squalled. His heart raced, as he spotted the infant in the arms of a Malaunje wet-nurse. A T’En baby, he guessed, handed over by a brotherhood who, unlike them, had obeyed the covenant.
The T’En infant was the reason the gift-warrior claimed precedence. They flaunted their power.
‘I know you,’ one of the females said.
He recognised All-mother Aayelora’s gift-tutor. For a heartbeat he could not remember her name.
A big gift-warrior rode beside her. This one also had a one-kill symbol on her neck torc.
‘Gift-tutor Lealeni,’ Ardeyne greeted her.
‘All-father Rohaayel, Voice-of-reason Ardeyne, Hand-of-force Irian.’ The gift-tutor acknowledged their titles and inclined her head, thanking them with magnificent condescension. She frowned. ‘Where is Devotee Mariska? Her pregnancy went beyond seven small moons. She’s due to give birth to a T’En infant soon.’
‘There was an accident, her horse bolted and she nearly died, gift-tutor. She remained behind to recover,’ Ardeyne said, with just the right tone of regret. ‘We lost the baby.’
Irian felt the moment stretch. Surely, the gift-tutor would see through their lies, denounce them and turn her gift-warriors on them?
Instead she turned to Rohaayel. ‘We grieve for your loss, all-father. I’ll let the lineage-keeper know the sad news.’
Irian glanced over his shoulder and saw their all-father hunched in the saddle, as if he’d suffered a blow.
As the sisterhood party rode on, Irian sucked in a ragged breath.
Mieren merchants continued to pour off the causeway, but Irian made no move to cross. Not yet. He’d wait for his hands to stop shaking.
‘They believed us,’ Ardeyne whispered.
‘Why shouldn’t they?’ Rohaayel countered. ‘No brotherhood has dared to flout the covenant for four hundred years. In their arrogance, the sisters would never expect it.’
Ardeyne grinned. ‘Especially if we continue to hand over all other T’En infants.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Come.’ Irian turned his mount towards the city. He had to trust Rohaayel’s judgement. Their lives and the fate of their brotherhood depended on it.
Glory or destruction.
V
ITTORYXE HAD UNPACKED
and stripped down to her thigh-length undershirt when she heard a cry and pounding footsteps. She took off running down the corridor, bare feet slapping on the slick, cool marble.
A Malaunje servant collided with her at the turn. She steadied the young woman. ‘What is it?’
‘Trouble with the lads. The new one’s fighting–’
‘Where?’
‘In the training yard.’
‘Where’s the hand-of-force?’
‘With the all-mother. She’s gone into labour.’
Vittoryxe cursed and ran down the steps, calling over her shoulder. ‘Tell Egrayne I need her.’
She found the youths in the yard. There were seven of them, aged thirteen to sixteen, and the younger ones had wisely backed off to watch the big lads fight. All skill had been forgotten as they rolled on the ground like a couple of brawling Mieren.
It was Graelen and Ashaayel, of course. He was the only one near the big lad’s size, and an obvious rival. Cursing the male’s instinctive need to dominate, Vittoryxe looked for some way to separate them. She was not going to get between them. Both lads outweighed and out-muscled her and, in their current state, both were just as likely to take a swing at her.
Furious, Vittoryxe strode over to the fountain and filled a bucket, tossing the contents over the two lads.
They came up spluttering, recognised her, and sanity returned.
‘Is this how you resolve your differences? Are you no better than Mieren barbarians?’ she demanded. The problem was, if they
weren’t
ready to resort to violence by the time they returned to the brotherhoods, they would be seen as prey.
Ashaayel ducked his head. But Graelen looked her up and down, his mouth twisting in a smile that reminded her she wore only an undershirt.
Her first instinct was to wipe that insolent smirk off his face, but if she raised her hand to him, he might strike back. Unless she wanted to use her gift on him – she was not going to risk dragging him onto the empyrean plane for this – she could do nothing. Oh, she could have broken down his defences and drained him of his gift, then forced her will on him, at least until his gift recovered, but... she was sworn to protect him.
Graelen grinned.
‘What’s going on?’ Egrayne demanded.
Vittoryxe gestured to the lads. ‘More balls than brains, the pair of them.’
Egrayne strode across and casually cuffed both lads across the head. ‘Ashaayel, you and Graelen are to clean up the courtyard.’ It was a Malaunje task, and an insult to their stature. ‘The rest of you, upstairs, bathe.’
The younger lads ran off.
Vittoryxe wanted to tell the empowerer how Graelen had looked at her, like she was powerless. She had never felt so vulnerable and she hated it. She wanted to drive the lad to his knees and make him beg her forgiveness. The force of her anger roused her gift and, for one terrible moment, she feared it would slip her control.
Roskara ran into the courtyard with her weapon drawn, clearly ready to defend Egrayne. The empowerer raised an arm, and her devotee went to her side. They smiled at each other, sharing an intimacy that Vittoryxe found particularly irritating.
As Vittoryxe brought her gift under control, she realised she needed a devotee to add to her stature. She would have to choose the right Malaunje, someone who would be an asset to her, someone ambitious.
‘You’re all right?’ Roskara whispered.
‘Vittoryxe had it sorted.’
Ignoring the devotee’s grateful look, Vittoryxe gestured to Graelen. She wanted him out of the sisterhood. ‘He’d barely walked into the yard before he picked a fight. If this is how he was behaving on his choice-mother’s estate, no wonder she sent him away.’
‘Grae, Ash, come here,’ Egrayne called.
Both lads came over. Graelen’s right eye was swollen and Ashaayel had a split lip. Since Ashaayel was not the sort to pick a fight, Vittoryxe had no doubt who had started it.
Egrayne seemed to have come to the same conclusion. ‘What do you hope to achieve by causing trouble, Grae?’
He glanced from her to Vittoryxe, resentment clear in his mulberry eyes. ‘May I speak freely?’
‘Of course.’ Egrayne seemed surprised that he would ask.
‘I don’t belong here. I belong with my brotherhood. I’m ready.’
He’s right
, Vittoryxe thought. Sometimes, when they sent lads off to become brotherhood initiates, it felt like they were sending lambs to the slaughter. Not this one. He needed to be around other, equally aggressive men who could keep him in line.
‘I’ll speak with the all-mother,’ Egrayne said.
Graelen grinned, and Vittoryxe knew he’d gotten what he wanted.
‘Which brotherhood?’ she asked.
He blinked.
‘Which brotherhood are you bound to?’ It would be either Rohaayel’s or Sigorian’s; their sisterhood had been fostering boys for these two since the covenant. Once, there had been more, but the smallest brotherhoods had been plundered and absorbed by greedy all-fathers.