Defiant Peaks (The Hadrumal Crisis) (32 page)

Now they were almost here. Zurenne trembled despite the warm embrace of her sable cloak, as black as her gown beneath it. She had not imagined that Aldabreshi travellers could reach the mainland so swiftly. Whenever anyone spoke of barbarians in the southern seas, she was used to picturing remote islands far beyond the most distant horizon.

Master Rauffe and Reven had agreed that the Archipelagans would arrive tomorrow, no sooner than midday, regardless of Kheda’s assurances that the Khusro wives were awaiting his courier dove on their domain’s closest island to the mainland, ready to head for the port of Attar on Caladhria’s southernmost headland. They had laughed behind the Archipelagan’s back when he had insisted on riding out yesterday. But Kheda had reappeared at their gates just after noon today to throw all Mistress Doratine and Mistress Rauffe’s preparations into disarray.

The women’s consternation had swiftly turned to indignation that Halferan’s new lady and the last true baron’s widow should be shown such a lack of consideration. That the manor should be expected to greet these visitors in such haste? Though what could they expect from shoeless barbarians, they had swiftly agreed. It had been the first time that Zurenne had seen the two of them so genuinely in accord.

Reven had ridden out with his liveried troopers to offer the Aldabreshi a belated escort. Zurenne had hurried to the shrine to beg that Saedrin had seen them safely through from Lord Tallat’s lands. Though she wondered what good that might do, since any assault would already have happened before Kheda rode out. Then she offered the same prayer to Talagrin, Raeponin and any other deity who might possibly be well-disposed towards Halferan.

Lastly she had clutched frantically at her pendant until the magic had opened a ruby-rimmed void so she could tell the Archmage of the Aldabreshi’s precipitate arrival. Like Jilseth, Planir had assured her that Corrain would surely commend what she was doing and promised that she and Ilysh would hear such approval from the baron’s own lips as soon as he called on Hadrumal’s wizard in Col.

Zurenne would be hard put not to rebuke him like some common trooper, when he did finally deign to let her and Ilysh know what was happening. Baron he may be but he was not Zurenne’s husband, with a husband’s right to expect her unquestioning deference.

At the foot of the steps Kusint stiffened. Zurenne followed his stern gaze to the knot of guardsmen standing in the pool of light beneath the barrack hall’s lantern. From their gestures they were arguing with Master Rauffe.

‘My lady.’ Kusint growled an apology and headed across the cobbled expanse.

Ilysh followed, forcing Zurenne to do the same. This was hardly the time to publicly rebuke her daughter. Mistress Rauffe and Doratine had already informed her of uproar among the servants at the prospect of serving Aldabreshi noblewomen.

‘Get to your posts!’ Kusint shouted.

A trooper stepped forward to speak for the rest. At least Zurenne saw distress twisting his face rather than mutiny.

‘Master Rauffe says that he must prepare the gatehouse apartments for these Aldabreshi and their swordsmen,’ the man protested.

‘Where else do Halferan’s guests lodge?’ Kusint retorted. ‘You’re so unmanned at the thought of a handful of Archipelagans above your guard chamber? You think they’ll charge down the stairs to overwhelm you? What then? They’ll hold the gate against the entire Halferan guard to pen up the household inside the wall?’

Master Rauffe cleared his throat. ‘Setting aside the very good question as to why these visitors would start a skirmish, hundreds of leagues from their home and beyond any hope of assistance.’

‘There’s always the manor’s side gate.’ Ilysh turned to point towards the narrow doorway cut through the encircling wall, even though it was hidden from view by the great hall. ‘Even if we lost the gatehouse, we could never be trapped.’

Zurenne was torn between a fervent wish to scold her daughter for such unseemly behaviour and relief that their lady’s unexpected intervention had silenced the disgruntled troopers.

‘Get to your posts,’ Kusint snarled.

‘Is all well?’ The Aldabreshin Kheda appeared from the gatehouse’s archway.

Zurenne wondered how long he had been standing there, hidden in the shadows. What had he heard? She swallowed as he approached to loom over her and Lysha.

He looked down, concerned. ‘I thought you were to wait in your great hall.’

Zurenne lifted her chin. ‘I have changed my mind.’

‘Why have the Khusro ladies insisted on making such haste on the road?’

Ilysh seized her opportunity to ask the tall Aldabreshin the question which Zurenne had been unable to answer when the two of them had been so frantically dressing in their finest velvets and the pick of the barony’s jewels.

‘Truly, no insult is intended.’ Kheda looked so intently at Zurenne that she knew for a certainty he must have heard the resentment ringing to the kitchen and the barrack hall’s rafters.

‘Indeed, their arrival today is testament to the importance of this journey, and to their trust in you. Khusro Rina himself advised waiting for another twenty days, until the Ruby would be in the heavenly arc of wealth and thus, set opposite the Emerald. Such stars would offer far more reassurance.’

‘What else do the stars and skies tell you now?’ Ilysh looked up at him, intrigued.

Before Zurenne could think how to curb her daughter’s curiosity, Kheda answered with his customary courtesy.

‘For the moment, the Emerald rides alone in that part of the sky where we look for omens of death.’ He gestured towards a point somewhat westward of true north. ‘That whole quarter of the sky is empty of jewels and the Emerald itself is encircled by those stars which we call the Winged Snake. Those stars offer encouragement for those showing bravery and also for those who seek unsuspected truth, to bring hidden things into the light. These are favourable omens for the Khusro wives as they arrive within your gates.’

At that moment, coach wheels rumbled and harness rattled beyond the manor’s closed gates. Halferan’s unwanted guests were here. Abruptly Zurenne’s mouth was so dry that she found herself unable to speak.

‘My lady.’ With a curt nod, Kusint walked swiftly towards the gatehouse.

Kheda’s hand cut across the circle of the sky to a point a little south of west. ‘That is the heavenly arc of life and selfhood. The Ruby sits amid the stars of the Canthira Tree. That tree promises new life even after fire and disaster. That is most particularly significant just at the moment, opposite the Emerald in the arc of death. The Ruby is a talisman for strength and courage, offering hope for favourable outcomes. To have these portents aligned thus is most encouraging.’

His hand shifted. ‘Better yet, the Diamond shines alongside, where we look for omens for wealth. The Diamond is a gem for clarity of purpose and the most powerful of all talismans for rulers while the Mirror Bird’s stars are a sign offering protection against magic.’

He pointed again and at least this time, Zurenne could see him indicating the two moons, Greater and Lesser, rising above the manor’s encircling wall.

‘The Opal is a powerful talisman against magic’s malice and that shines in the heavenly arc of friendship where the Sailfish’s stars offer hope of good luck. The Pearl is another talisman against magic and waxes in the arc of good health amid the stars of the Net which is an omen of unity and co-operation as well as of chaos and danger subdued.’

‘You have a great many talismans against magic.’ Ilysh looked thoughtful.

‘The Aldabreshi consider it the most terrible of all dangers,’ Kheda said soberly.

‘The important thing is the Khusro ladies will be happy under these stars.’ As Zurenne heard the manor’s gates open and the rattle of wheels within the arch, she was pleased that she had chosen the diamond studded crescent from her jewel coffer to sweep back her hair. Let the Khusro ladies see her wearing a ruler’s gems while she took comfort from this remembrance of her beloved husband; his gift to her after Ilysh’s birth.

‘I do not think that happy is the correct word.’ Kheda hesitated. ‘The Amethyst warns against over-confidence and rides in the arc of omens for children with the stars of the Sea Serpent which is a token of hidden dangers.’

‘Do you truly believe that such guidance can be read in the skies?’ Ilysh persisted.

‘Do you truly believe that the gods and goddesses whom you honour in your shrine will hear your prayers?’

Kheda’s half-smile and light tone reminded Zurenne of her lost husband turning aside questions which he didn’t really wish to answer.

‘What do you believe?’ she asked him bluntly.

Kheda looked up at her for a long moment. ‘I believe that life is full of uncertainties and that few things are ever as clear-cut as they might appear at first glance. I have learned that wizardry is both more terrible and more valuable than I was ever taught. I have seen my eldest daughter marry the son of an Aldabreshin warlord more vicious and treacherous than any shoeless savage wreaking havoc in your mainland tales of barbarian mayhem. The villain’s son has long proved himself a brave and honourable man. I believe that the only certainty is that we must hold true to ourselves.’

‘How old is your daughter?’ Ilysh asked quickly. ‘How many children do you have? How many wives?’

‘Lysha, such things are none of our concern.’ Zurenne silenced her daughter with a glare as three heavy coaches rumbled into the courtyard.

In all honesty, she was just as curious about this stranger and his unknown people’s customs. But such questions must wait. Baron Corrain wasn’t here so she and Ilysh must do their duty by Halferan.

The drivers hired with these vehicles in Attar had no trouble reining in their teams of four sturdy horses. The beasts’ heads drooped with exhaustion after their long day’s journey.

Reven’s troopers followed, urging their mounts to either side and drawing up to a halt, precise as any Tormalin Emperor’s guard of honour. Not that any Tormalin prince would ride in these old-fashioned, round-topped carriages. The thick-rimmed wheels at each corner wouldn’t have looked out of place on an ox-cart but the Attar stable master had known that no elegantly-sprung coach riding high on spindly spokes would survive Caladhria’s winter roads.

Zurenne wondered if the unseen Aldabreshi women believed that their escort was guarding the coach and their wealth from Caladhrian assault. Or were they defending the mainlanders from the Archipelagan swordsmen? Come to that, she wondered which of the two Reven considered to be his principal duty?

Kusint stepped forward to the foremost carriage. Before he could reach up to the handle, the door swung open. An Archipelagan swordsman jumped out, turning instantly to look forwards. A second followed, looking behind towards the second carriage. A third armoured man sprang down from the seat at the rear where a lackey or a groom would usually ride.

They wore chainmail more finely wrought than any Zurenne had ever seen. Their armour was patterned with swirls of bronze links amid the steel, fiery in the light of the barrack hall’s lantern. Each wore more varied blades than she could imagine any swordsman using.

All three were bare-headed, which surprised her. Their faces were as dark-skinned as Kheda’s, with black hair and beards trimmed close.Their expressions revealed nothing.

‘You need not fear the Khusro wives’ bodyslaves,’ Kheda assured her. ‘They would never disgrace their mistresses by laying hand on a weapon to insult your hospitality. See how they offer their unprotected heads and necks to Halferan’s guards.’

Zurenne still wished that Madam Jilseth was beside her but the Archmage had insisted that no mage could be present when the Aldabreshi ladies arrived. Jilseth would send word as soon as she arrived in the village beyond the brook. Planir had promised.

Meantime, he had insisted, Zurenne must hide her ensorcelled pendant away. So as Lysha’s fingertips strayed to her throat, she merely touched a necklace of linked gold filigree ovals set with aquamarines a shade paler than her green gown.

What omens might the Aldabreshi ladies read into those gems? Should she have asked Kheda? No, surely he would have spoken if the stones offered some incomprehensible ill omen.

‘Let us welcome our guests.’ Zurenne led Ilysh forward.

Kheda fell into step behind them. Doratine and Mistress Rauffe had emerged from the kitchen buildings leading a gaggle of wide-eyed maidservants. Master Rauffe had gathered a handful of dutiful lackeys between the gatehouse and the barrack hall, waiting to unload the visitors’ luggage. Kusint was hesitating by the leading carriage, torn between standing his ground and striding over to displace Kheda at the Halferan ladies’ side.

A woman stepped out of the carriage only to stumble over the hem of the homely grey blanket she was wrapped in. The second of the swordsmen sprang forward to catch her flailing hand. Two more women had hastily emerged, shedding similarly incongruous wrappings against the winter chill.

Kheda said something in the Aldabreshin tongue and all three women turned to Zurenne and Ilysh. The three swordsmen instantly dropped to one knee, their heads bowed.

The oldest of the women spoke in fluent Tormalin, sinking into a graceful obeisance first to Zurenne and then to Ilysh.

‘Good day to you, my lady and my lady. We are most honoured to be welcomed into your home. I am Debis Khusro and may I humbly make known to you Patri Khusro and Quilar Khusro.’