Besieged (25 page)

‘His things are gone. He must have run away when he sent us into the mine.’

‘Sly little thief,’ Oskane muttered. Yesterday this would have been a tragedy. Today it was only an inconvenience. ‘He’s stolen from the church, and he knows too much. Find Denat and kill him. Bring the malachite back here.’

Franto nodded. It was not the first time he had killed in the service of the Seven.

‘I’ll send a message to the king, to meet me at Enlightenment Abbey.’

S
ORNE WAS HUNGRY.
The smell of onions and mushrooms frying made his stomach rumble. It was full dark, and he’d been drawing by the light of the lamp for what felt like ages. He sat back to look at his work.

‘Finished?’ Scholar Oskane asked.

‘For now. More may come back to me.’ Sorne wondered how much he had filled in from his imagination. ‘May I go now? I’m hungry.’

‘Yes, go.’

He came to his feet and offered obeisance before heading for the door.

‘And Sorne?’

‘Yes, scholar?’

‘Was the braid all that you stole from my bed chamber?’

Sorne blushed. ‘Yes, scholar.’

Oskane’s eyes narrowed. ‘Very well. But if I find you have been into my things again, I’ll... I’ll bring Valendia in here and scourge her.’

‘But she’s innocent.’

‘Then you had better make sure you’re innocent, too. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes, scholar.’ Sorne kept his eyes lowered to hide the hatred that burned in him.

Over in the stable, his mother... Hiruna would have something set aside for him, but he didn’t go across the courtyard. Instead, he headed down to the she-Wyrd’s cell. The light of the two moons pierced the small, high windows.

In a dark corner, he could just make out the gleam of her eyes. He found he was angry with her and didn’t know why. Maybe it was because she’d been warning him for years not to trust Oskane, and now she’d been proven right.

‘Is it true the T’En have no gods?’ he asked

‘The T’Enatuath, that’s what we call ourselves, the full-bloods and the half-bloods, and yes. We have no gods.’

‘The True-men believe in the Seven.’

‘If one man believes something crazy, he is crazy. If ten thousand men believe it, then it must be true?’

‘Of course not, but how can you be sure there are no gods?’

‘When a True-man sees something he doesn’t understand, he sees the gods at work, but everything follows laws, even if we don’t understand them yet.’

‘Who made the laws?’

‘You think like a True-man.’

‘What do you know of unclean sites?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘There’s one here, deep in the mine. It’s why the retreat was abandoned. Back when we first came here, Scholar Oskane ordered the entrance boarded up to hide it.’

The Wyrd woman left her bedding and crept over to the bars. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, down to her thighs again. She wore a thin shift, and her arms were pale in the moonlight. She smelled different tonight. Sweet. ‘If I tell you what I know, can you get me another button?’

‘He showed you the button?’ Sorne was shocked and surprised she would admit to craving T’En power.

‘He gave it to me.’

‘What do the T’En say about unclean places?’

‘You’ll get me another button?’

‘If I can. If I touch his things again he threatened to use the lash on...’ Sorne still found it hard to believe.

‘On Valendia.’

‘How did you know?’

‘When I first came here, he threatened to kill you and Izteben, if I didn’t teach you the T’En language.’

‘But...’

‘He never meant it. I know that now, although I would not be surprised if he has ordered the deaths of others.’ She gripped the bars. ‘You know you are as much a prisoner as I am.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m valued. I have visions.’

She snorted. ‘Only the T’En have visions, and only a very select few. Sometimes a seer or a scryer isn’t born for a hundred years or more.’

‘About the unclean sites...’

‘Stay away from them. They’ll be your death. There are predators–’

‘I survived.’ But he had sensed something... a predator, or an angry god? ‘There was something powerful down there.’

‘I’d like to know how you survived. Only gift-warriors dare to tackle empyrean beasts.’

‘Another T’En word I don’t know.’

She sighed. ‘What I tell you now, I tell you to save your life, foolish boy. There is this plane, the world you see about you every day, and there is another world that lies alongside it, the empyrean plane. In places, unclean places as the Mieren call them, the walls are weak. At certain times of the year, like season’s cusp, the walls grow even weaker.

‘Terrible beasts roam the empyrean plane. The T’En protect us from these predators. If the beasts break through, they cannot stay long, but in the little time they have they can wreak havoc, devouring the life force of any man, woman or child they find. I’ve heard some can feast on a person’s wits and leave them a simpleton. Only T’En gift-warriors can protect–’

‘If that is true, why did the creature devour the T’En plait?’

She went very still, then looked up. ‘You killed a T’En? You wicked, wicked boy!’

‘I killed no one.’ Although, now that he thought about it,
someone
had killed a T’En to get the blood-stained robe and the braid. ‘Where did you think the button came from?’

She did not answer.

‘The plait glowed and writhed in the air as if something was playing with it,’ Sorne said. ‘Why would a beast do that?’

‘Why do cats play with mice before killing them?’

‘Why was there a flash of light?’

‘It was the surge of power as the beast was dragged back into its realm.’

‘Why did I have a vision after the light blinded me?’

‘You? A vision?’ She laughed.

He found he was on his feet. ‘You’re weak. You’re addicted to T’En power.’ Contempt filled him. ‘I’m not like you. I’m never going to be a victim. I’ll be powerful.’

And he strode off.

Her voice carried after him. ‘Don’t go down there again. Not if you want to live.’

He went back to the stable, where Hiruna berated him. ‘What were you thinking, going down that mine? You could have gotten your brother killed.’

He hugged her.

‘What was that for?’

For treating me like I’m your son.
‘I’m hungry.’

Chapter Twenty

I
RIAN STUDIED THE
big T’En male as he went through his combat sequence.

‘Should we offer him a place on the inner circle?’ Ardeyne asked. They stood on the balcony overlooking the weapons training courtyard. ‘With both Nereon and Araze dead, there’s room for Mefusun, and we have passed over him before.’

‘For good reason,’ Irian said. ‘He’s powerful and ambitious, but his thinking is far too rigid. Mefusun is paranoid about T’En females. I would not be comfortable with him on our inner circle.’

‘If we pass over him this time, it will be seen as an insult. We’d need to honour him in some other way.’

‘We could send him to manage one of the brotherhood estates.’

‘He’d see it as banishment from the city.’

‘He’d be ruler of his own domain,’ Irian said, but Ardeyne was right. Nereon and Araze’s deaths were inconvenient. Nereon couldn’t help his sudden illness, but Araze should have known better than to duel at his age.

‘I’ll talk it over with Roh.’ Ardeyne left him.

Gripping the rail, Irian watched the mid- to high-ranking brotherhood warriors. Juggling powerful, ambitious men was a challenge. Sometimes there was no easy answer.

A little later, Ardeyne’s devotee came looking for the voice-of-reason.

‘He’s with Roh. What is it?’

‘Reothe’s back.’

A thrill of excitement ran through Irian, rousing his gift. The sacrare boy would be born soon and, through him, they would unite the brotherhoods. Truly, Rohaayel was a visionary, the greatest all-father in the history of the T’Enatuath.

‘Go tell Roh and Ard. I’ll bring Reothe up after he’s made his report to the tithe-master.’

The devotee left. Irian couldn’t wait, and went to meet Reothe on the stairs.

Looking at the initiate, you could not tell he had made the deep-bonding, but it must have changed him. Trysting with a T’En female was unforgettable. The first time, it had taken Irian three days to come back to earth. Trysting, while sharing the intimacy of the deep-bonding... how he envied the youth.

‘Hand-of-force.’ Reothe was surprised to see him on the stairs and made obeisance, acknowledging Irian’s higher rank.

‘Reothe.’ Glancing around, he lowered his voice. ‘The sacrare is...’

‘Well. If his kicks are anything to go by.’

‘She suspects nothing?’

‘Not a thing. In fact, after she has the baby, she wants to come live with our brotherhood.’ Reothe frowned. ‘We can’t keep lying to her. There has to be a better way.’

‘There is a better way for the T’Enatuath. That’s why we’re dismantling the covenant.’ He held Reothe’s eyes. They could not afford doubts. ‘I know it’s hard, but we have to stay strong. Imoshen will thank us, one day.’

Reothe nodded. ‘It’s just... it doesn’t feel right to lie.’

Irian gave a wry smile. ‘The higher you rise, the more you come to realise honesty is a luxury. Go make your report to Tithe-master Ysanyn. We’ll be waiting for you on the roof.’

The youth nodded and left him.

He hadn’t told Reothe, but they were going to bring the gift-tutor with them. If the birth of a sacrare could trigger the development of a female’s gift, then they might need Bedettor’s advice.

‘Hand-of-force?’ The leader of Irian’s Malaunje agents came up the stairs.

Netaric was no longer a warrior, but he knew everyone, and Irian trusted his judgement. ‘What is it?’

‘Down in the Malaunje quarters, there is whisper of Imoshen. Someone must have let something slip.’

‘How much do they know?’

‘Rumours of a secret lover, a daughter, a T’En girl hidden from the sisterhoods and kept locked in a tower.’

Irian cursed. ‘I’ll tell Roh. Your people–’

‘Are denying it, but they’re worried. They fear the sisterhoods’ wrath if it’s true.’

‘Tell them the all-father would never...’ He was about to say Rohaayel would never put his brotherhood at risk, but he had done just that for an ideal. ‘Tell them it’s nonsense. Quash the rumour.’

Netaric nodded and went down the stairs, while Irian went up. When he stepped out into the silvery winter sunshine on the rooftop garden, he spotted Rohaayel and Ardeyne. They had finished their balance exercises and were dressing warmly.

Irian jogged over. ‘We could have a problem.’ He told them Netaric’s news and his orders.

‘It’s just a rumour,’ Ardeyne said. ‘Like the story of the village high in the mountains where Malaunje live free of Mieren and T’En. No one will believe it.’

‘Ard’s right,’ Rohaayel said. ‘What we’ve done is unthinkable.’

‘Maybe we shouldn’t go to Lighthouse Isle for the birth,’ Irian said.

‘We’ve said we’re going south for the winter. If we change our plans it’ll look suspicious. No, we stick to the plan.’

The next day they rode out with the gift-tutor, Reothe and four Malaunje servants.

I
MOSHEN MARVELLED AS
she held her newborn in her arms. The birth had happened so fast, there hadn’t been time to get the cook. Her son was early and... ‘So small.’

A fierce instinct to protect her child surged through her, rousing her gift. With it came rush of power, sweeping through her body and mind with such intensity it was painful.

She was still reeling when a sound made her look over to Frayvia, who was watching her with the baby. Her gift rose and she realised a pall of sorrow hung over her friend. ‘Why are you so sad?’

‘I’m not,’ Frayvia lied. ‘I’m happy for you.’

Imoshen’s gift surged again. Her friend was torn apart inside. Why had she never seen it before?

‘I should tell the cook she missed the birth, and bring Iraayel in to meet his choice-brother,’ Frayvia said.

‘No, wait. I’d like to clean up first.’ Imoshen looked down at the sleeping infant. ‘You said T’En babies take a full year for their gift to mature. Do you think he’ll be alright?’

‘He was early, but not too early.’

Imoshen could read the conviction in Frayvia. It felt so natural, it took her a moment to realise her gift had flexed again. She had never had this depth of insight before.

‘Why are you staring at me?’ Frayvia asked, fear hiding behind a smile.

Frayvia feared her?

‘I would never hurt you.’

Frayvia gasped and took a step back, colliding with Reothe.

‘Reothe?’ Imoshen sat up, wincing with pain. ‘I thought you–’

‘We just arrived. When I heard you were in labour, I ran up from the boat. The cook told me you wouldn’t deliver until tomorrow morning but...’ With a laugh, he brushed past Frayvia and dropped to his knees by the bed, where he cupped the tiny head of his son in his palm. The new part of her gift enabled her to sense a wave of protective wonder fill him. ‘Oh, Imoshen...’ He looked up at her. ‘What did you call him?’

‘I haven’t named him yet. I thought Reo-something. Reonyx or Reomyr, perhaps.’

He smiled and she sensed his love: a bright and shining shield. ‘Reoshen?’

She laughed, then winced.

‘You’re hurt?’

‘A bit. The birth happened quickly. I was torn.’

He flinched and she felt his pain for her. Everything was so raw; her body, her emotions, her gift... she was overwhelmed.

‘The all-father and his seconds are probably downstairs by now.’ Frayvia stood in the doorway, radiating angry resentment.

‘Yes,’ Reothe said, and in that one word, Imoshen glimpsed a world of regret and guilt. ‘The gift-tutor’s with them.’

Imoshen reached for his hand. ‘Why is Fray angry with you, and why do you feel guilty?’

His mouth dropped open and she read his dismay. Touch made it so much clearer.

He looked down to their joined hands. ‘You’re a raedan, able to read emotions. They said there was a chance your gift would mature. That’s why they brought the gift-tutor with them.’ He glanced over his shoulder to the door and she saw him make a decision.