Exile (21 page)

Chapter Sixteen

I
MOSHEN SLEPT LATE,
exhausted by the battle to save Arodyti, exhausted because she had woken during the night with the realisation that Arodyti’s gift essence had been consumed by empyrean predators, which meant Imoshen had sent her dear friend to the true death.

Today, Imoshen felt raw and fragile. She had barely dressed when Iraayel tapped on her door and entered without waiting for a reply.

‘Is it true you kidnapped Prince Cedon?’

‘Yes,’ Imoshen said. ‘And good morning to you, too.’ She glanced past him. ‘Where’s Egrayne? I sent for her.’

‘Saf told me Egrayne and the gift-tutor were up all night, trying to find the shades of the gift-warriors who died to get Arodyti into the palace nursery. They were trying to escort them to death’s realm.’

Imoshen nodded and went to speak, but laughter and singing drifted through the window, echoing up from the courtyard two floors below. Imoshen frowned. The festival had been yesterday; why were they still celebrating?

Frayvia came in from the nursery with little Umaleni on her hip. ‘What’s going on?’

‘They’re saying we won’t have to leave,’ Iraayel gestured to the courtyard window. ‘That you’ll use the prince to get King Charald to sign the accord again. But he’s broken it once already. As soon as you return his son, he’ll break it again.’

‘Yes, he would. But that’s not why I’ve taken the prince.’ Imoshen’s head swam. What had Egrayne told the rest of the sisters? Knowing Egrayne, it hadn’t been much, but clearly it had been just enough for rumours to spread. Annoyance flashed through Imoshen, stirring her gift.

‘Imoshen?’ Reoden came down the passage and saw her through the open door. ‘We can’t stay. King Charald still means to massacre us all. Nothing’s changed...’ She broke off as she swept into the room and realised Imoshen wasn’t alone.

‘What?’ Iraayel whispered. ‘Is it true?’

She nodded. ‘Exile was never the Mieren king’s goal. He wants to wipe out our people.’

‘What kind of man does that?’ Iraayel took a step back. ‘And how could you lie to me?’

‘I lied to everyone. Think it through, Iraayel. How could I reveal that King Charald planned to massacre us on the road to port, when we had no hope? People would despair. Now–’

‘Now they think they can stay here.’ Anger made Iraayel’s gift rise.

‘They can’t stay here, and I don’t know how the rumour got started.’ Imoshen knew his anger wasn’t directed at her, more their situation, but even so it made her uncomfortable. Umaleni whimpered and held out her arms. Frayvia handed the infant over to Imoshen. Meanwhile the celebration continued in the courtyard.

‘They’re not thinking clearly.’ Frustration welled up in Imoshen. ‘Why can’t they see the logic flaw?’

‘They’re fooling themselves because they want to believe King Charald is a reasonable man.’ Reoden shrugged. ‘My people are the same. I worked on the prince, then fell into bed exhausted. When I woke up, I found all the sisterhoods celebrating.’

‘I’ll have to call the all-mothers,’ Imoshen said. ‘Then...’ She looked up in horror. ‘What if the brotherhoods–’

‘All-mother?’ Gift-warrior Kiane spoke as she came down the passage towards Imoshen’s private chamber. ‘The all-mothers have arrived. I put them downstairs in your formal greeting chamber.’

‘Good. Tell my inner circle to–’

‘And the all-fathers are at the sisterhood gate, demanding to see you.’

‘That’s bad,’ Reoden whispered.

‘No, it’s good. I’ll tell everyone, at once. Kiane, escort the all-fathers to the formal greeting chamber.’

‘Bring them inside the sisterhood quarter?’ She was horrified. ‘No adult T’En man has stepped inside our gate in over three hundred years.’

‘We haven’t faced the destruction of our people in over three hundred years. Now, go. Tell Egrayne to come to me; I name you my hand-of-force.’

Kiane blinked.

Imoshen pressed her hands to her mouth, fighting an irrational urge to laugh. Taking a deep breath, she started again. ‘I’m sorry, Kiane. But I have to meet King Charald at midday and I’m running out of time. Will you be my hand-of-force?’

‘I would be honoured,’ the gift-warrior said, but Imoshen could tell she was annoyed by the manner of her elevation. Kiane gave Imoshen the correct obeisance, then left to organise things.

In a very short time, Egrayne joined her and Imoshen took Kiane’s oath. As they went down to the formal greeting chamber, Imoshen noted how quiet the sisterhood was. The arrival of a large group of powerful T’En men had startled Malaunje and T’En alike. She was aware of people watching from doorways, whispering.

‘I don’t understand why we couldn’t meet the all-fathers and their seconds in the empowerment dome like always,’ Egrayne whispered.

‘Because that would have entailed sending them away and irritated them further. Because by inviting them into the sisterhood quarter, I’ve unsettled them. This is an extraordinary day, and I have taken an extraordinary action. Also, here in the palace, I have the advantage. Follow my lead.’ Imoshen swept into the formal greeting chamber.

Late morning sunshine came through the tall, multi-paned glass doors, which stood open onto the courtyard beyond. The floor was white marble. The decorative cornices were picked out in silver, and silver sculptures gleamed in wall niches. The room had been designed as a backdrop for T’En colouring, and Imoshen had changed into a magenta robe to match her eyes and, other than her sisterhood torc, wore only silver and diamond jewellery.

The all-mothers and their seconds were down at one end of the chamber, with the all-fathers down the other. Imoshen could feel the pull of male power from the doorway and her gift surged as she read them. The brotherhood leaders were angry and confused, but also unnerved to find themselves inside the sisterhood quarter. Many of them had been raised here. They would be reminded of their childhoods and their choice-mothers, of when they deferred to females.

Imoshen waited in the entrance until the last whispered conversation ceased. ‘Close all the doors.’

When no one moved, she crossed to the other side of the chamber to close the central pair of courtyard doors. Others moved to shut the rest of the doors.

Imoshen turned around to face the chamber. She ignored the formal raised dais where the all-mother was supposed to sit and sank to kneel on the marble floor. Early spring sunshine bathed her, but offered little warmth. The cold of the marble came through her silken pleated trousers.

After a heartbeat, Egrayne and Kiane settled beside and slightly behind her. Because this was her palace, custom decreed the others follow her lead. One by one, the brotherhoods knelt on her right and the sisterhoods on her left.

Imoshen could feel the men getting ready to accuse her of acting without all-council approval.

‘I have a spy in King Charald’s inner circle,’ Imoshen said. ‘He came to me with news I could not share until today. I took action without telling the all-fathers or the all-mothers, or even most of my inner circle, because the nature of his information was so dire.’

‘What is this dire news?’ Kyredeon asked, voice hard and brittle.

Imoshen met his eyes and waited a beat. ‘King Charald wasn’t offering us exile–’

‘That’s good, because we weren’t going to accept his offer,’ Saskeyne said, and there were a couple of chuckles.

‘On our way to port, the Mieren king planned to surround our camp and massacre us all. I couldn’t tell you this because I didn’t want a panic–’

Several of the hands-of-force sprang from their knees to their feet in one fluid movement, startling her, and all the all-fathers and their seconds followed suit. Her gift rose and she had to bank it, while reminding herself never to underestimate the physicality of the men.

Outraged, the brotherhood leaders spoke of fighting and dying with honour. Powerful male gifts filled the chamber. When Kiane would have risen, Imoshen stopped her with a touch. The all-mothers took their cue from Imoshen.

Kyredeon confronted her. ‘You knew this, and you didn’t tell us. You didn’t give us a choice!’

Even though every instinct told her to defend herself, Imoshen remained on her knees, with her hands resting lightly on her thighs. By her silence she made it clear the discussion could not resume until they were all seated.

The men had ceded power to the women, when they entered the sisterhood gate. And they had ceded power to her when they entered her sisterhood’s palace.

Kyredeon’s hands curled into fists. She knew he wanted to strike her, but the moment his skin touched hers, she would tear his essence from his body and send it to the empyrean plane, wounding him so badly he would not be able to escape its predators.

She thought of Reoden’s murdered daughter, young Sardeon and the scryer both crippled by what they’d seen that day. If any of the brotherhood leaders deserved death, it was Kyredeon. And she let this knowledge seep into her eyes. If power was all the men respected, she could play that game.

He took a step back.

In that moment, she grasped the real reason the all-mothers had voted her causare. Certainly she was able to read people, but she was also willing to kill. They had used her to kill once before, when she had executed her father. They believed she could and would do so again, if she had to.

‘You should have called an all-council,’ Kyredeon said. He was still blustering, but he was talking and not using force.

Imoshen glanced to the other brotherhood leaders. About half of them were seated, and more knelt while she watched.

Soon Kyredeon realised only he and his two seconds remained standing. He turned to the all-fathers. ‘She acted without the all-council’s authority.’

Having said his piece, he returned to his place and knelt.

‘I concede that I did not do what I asked all of you to do,’ Imoshen said. ‘But I had good reason to doubt the discretion of the brotherhoods. When I saw Kyredeon’s T’En warrior make a stand on the causeway, I knew–’

Several all-fathers protested that this was Kyredeon’s fault, while he insisted the gift-warrior had been acting alone.

‘Someone opened the gate for him,’ Imoshen countered.

Kyredeon did not argue this.

‘Besides,’ she added, ‘look how quickly the rumour about Prince Cedon spread last night. Imagine the panic, if our people learned King Charald planned to massacre us and there was no hope. Now that we have Prince Cedon–’

‘Is it true you used transposition to snatch him from the palace?’ Hueryx asked.

‘Arodyti...’ Imoshen could not go on.

‘I claim stature for our sisterhood,’ Egrayne said and named the gift-warriors they’d lost. While the others acknowledged this, Imoshen composed herself.

‘I’m meeting King Charald soon. I’ll negotiate for safe passage to the port, onto our ships and out of the bay.’

‘Exile...’ It was a communal exhalation of sorrow.

‘For three hundred years we’ve lived segregated lives from the Mieren. In truth, we’ve been exiles in our own land, besieged in our city and estates. When we sail away, we’ll find a new home, a sanctuary for the T’Enatuath.’

‘You know this for certain?’ the oldest of the all-fathers asked. ‘You’ve consulted the scryer?’

Imoshen sent Reoden a silent apology. ‘I can’t consult the scryer, because the day Kyredeon’s warriors killed Reoden’s daughter, the scryer’s gift was crippled. We have no scryer. We have no peace of mind, because we cannot trust each other. We cannot afford this rivalry – brotherhood against brotherhood, men against women. If we don’t work together, we might as well open the gates right now and let King Charald’s war barons ride in here and slaughter every last one of us.’

Imoshen found she was on her feet and didn’t remember rising. Her gift was riding her. Everyone stared at her. ‘I will do whatever it takes to ensure the survival of our people. You are either with me, or you’re against me.’

No one spoke. She looked from face to face, reading the all-fathers and their seconds. They ranged from resentment to outright angry belligerance. She shouldn’t have threatened the brotherhood leaders, but she meant it. There was not one amongst them who she trusted to lead their people to safety.

She clamped down on her power and turned to Reoden. ‘Now I must see King Charald. We’ll need the boy. I’d like to talk to him on the way down to the gate.’

S
ORNE HOPED HE’D
done the right thing when he hadn’t arranged for the old man and girl to escape overnight, because now the king insisted they accompany him to meet with the Wyrds.

‘We’ll let them see the copperheads up close,’ Charald told the barons. ‘More effective that way.’

Sorne beckoned two of his holy warriors. ‘Go fetch the Wyrds.’

If he was to retain power, if he was to survive, the barons must not associate him with the victims. He must appear to be above all other Wyrds.

He went around, handing out the malachite pendants, and saying the Warrior’s blessing, for all the good it would do.

‘Are they working again?’ Dekaitz asked.

‘I’ve done the best I can with them. They’ve been exposed to a lot of Wyrd contagion,’ he said. There, that should cover him if anything went wrong.

The king and his barons walked off. They were full of plans. By the new small moon, the Wyrds would be gone and the city would be theirs. Only another twenty-one days in the tents and they would be living in palaces.

As soon as the holy warriors approached with the old man and little girl, Sorne strode off.

He caught up with the king and his barons, who were inspecting the scaffolds at the causeway entrance. As Sorne approached the king, he avoided looking at the gallows. They made him sick. Everything about King Charald made him sick. If he stayed too much longer, he would become as corrupt as poor Zabier.

‘They’re already here,’ the king crowed, gesturing to the Wyrds waiting halfway down the causeway. ‘I knew the scaffolds would make them sit up and take notice.’

As a group, they stepped onto the causeway. It was midday, very early spring. The sky was clear and the sun held the promise of warmth. A slight breeze stirred the lake’s surface, so that it danced with diamonds of sunlight. The glare made Sorne narrow his eyes.