Exile (42 page)

‘Harbour-master Hersegel said you were to answer to us now,’ Ardonyx bluffed. ‘We’re in charge of the wharf.’

The guard glanced to his men, and they shuffled aside, but did not open the gate. It was a blatant insult. Tobazim contained his anger, turned in the saddle and signalled the nearest Malaunje. One of Ardonyx’s sailors jumped down from the cart and opened the gate. As they rode through, Tobazim was aware of unfriendly stares.

The sky still held the afterglow of the sun but night had claimed their wharf. A jumble of dark buildings, some of which tilted alarmingly, spread out before them. There was just enough ambient light to make out the nearest one on their right: a warehouse with a dull glow coming from its open door.

Tobazim thought longingly of hot food and getting off this torture device they called a horse. Two ships were tied up, one on each side of the wharf. Another two ships were moored further out.

‘The two ships anchored near our wharf are sisterhood vessels.’ Ardonyx guided his mount closer. ‘The two moored here are mine. My defiant little
Spring-cusp
’ – he gestured to the ship directly ahead of them, then to the one on their left – ‘and the
Autumn-moons
. Aren’t they beautiful?’

Tobazim hid a smile. To his landsman eyes, the
Autumn-moons
looked like a row of terraced houses, with a taller building at each end. No lights glowed in the ships’ windows.

‘The sails burned when the Mieren attacked our ships. They’ll have to be replaced,’ Ardonyx said. He reached out to take Tobazim’s forearm. ‘But you should see them when we’re at sea.’

Tobazim’s vision blurred and he saw the sails illuminated by the setting sun. They looked like a dragonfly’s wings. They were so beautiful an aching joy filled his chest.

Ardonyx’s hand dropped and Tobazim’s vision returned to normal. Memory-sharing was an intimacy that revealed trust. Tobazim was honoured.

Just then, Ionnyn and Haromyr caught up with them.

‘What’s that foul smell?’ Tobazim had noticed it as soon as they approached the wharves. ‘Some kind of fish?’

Ardonyx laughed. ‘Seaweed, you landsman. It’s low tide.’

Tobazim felt his face grow hot. He was going to be out of his depth for a while, and he didn’t like it.

A man shouted from the door of the warehouse.

‘What now?’ Haromyr muttered.

‘The unwanted Wyrds?’ Tobazim guessed.

Ardonyx dismounted, handing his reins to one of his sailors. Tobazim stepped down and turned to find Maric ready to take his horse.

‘What do we do, Captain Ardonyx?’ the sailor asked. ‘Unload the carts and stow the stores aboard ship?’

‘Not yet.’ Ardonyx spoke absently, studying the man who came towards them. To Tobazim, he looked underfed, wiry, and ambitious.

‘You’ve come from the queen of the Wyrds?’ the man asked.

‘We represent the causare, our leader,’ Ardonyx corrected.

‘Good. These women and their brats are eating our profits. You’re welcome to them.’ He led them into the warehouse.

It was large and high-roofed and the far end was lost to shadow. Tobazim caught glimpses of stars through cracks in the roof. The place had a stale smell that was a mixture of damp, unwashed bodies and mice. His gift stirred, roused by the Mieren threat and the warehouse’s state of disrepair.

Gathered around an open fire and a single lamp were ten rough-looking Mieren who came to their feet, radiating threat. Huddled at the far end, in the dark, several women tried to keep about a dozen children quiet. Even so, a small child cried, as if he had been crying for a long time and would soon fall asleep from exhaustion.

When Ardonyx and Tobazim entered, the women came to their feet, whispering hopefully. As far as Tobazim could tell, they were all Malaunje.

‘This lot have come from their queen,’ the man told his companions. ‘We’ll finally get our reward.’

This was greeted with relieved muttering to the effect that it was about time, but the Mieren did not take their hands from their weapon hilts.

‘You’re in charge here?’ Ardonyx asked the first man.

‘I am,’ the leader said, as he eyed their silver belt buckles and the brotherhood torcs on their arms. ‘We’ve got fifteen Wyrds for you, all copperheads, so that’s fifteen silver coins you owe us.’

Ardonyx ignored this. ‘Bring them into the light.’

‘Over here, you lot,’ the man bellowed. ‘You heard me. Hurry up.’

An old woman and two young ones called the children, picked up the toddlers and hurried across. They gazed on Ardonyx and Tobazim with a fierce hope. That they did not defer but met Tobazim’s eyes outright told him how desperate they were to return to the protection of the T’Enatuath.

‘Are you sisterhood or brotherhood Malaunje?’ Ardonyx addressed the old woman in T’En.

The Mieren leader spoke before she could answer. ‘A couple of them are knocked around a bit – they wouldn’t do as they were told – but they’ll heal up all right. We didn’t spoil their looks.’

Tobazim studied the two young Malaunje women. One had a split lip, the other a black eye. Now that there was hope of release, they blazed with fury.

‘I am Lysarna of All-father Tamaron’s brotherhood.’ The old woman spoke T’En. ‘Ours was a small estate far to the north. We knew nothing of the attack on the city. One day, while our men were out hunting, these Mieren came. They said our people had been exiled and they’d come to confiscate the estate. Old scholar Vittor did not believe them. They–’

‘Don’t listen to what she’s saying,’ the man spoke over her. Tobazim suspected he was worried by her tone. ‘We’ve fulfilled our part of the bargain. We just want our silver.’

The old woman kept speaking. ‘Scholar Vittor tried to stop them, but they cut him down.’

‘Here, what’re you telling them?’ the man demanded.

‘They dragged us out of our home–’

‘Shut up!’ The man raised his hand.

Ardonyx caught it mid-arc and held it, without apparent effort. ‘Let her finish.’

The other Mieren moved closer, their hands going to their weapons. The women put the children behind them, and edged away.

Lysarna gestured to the two young women. ‘They raped–’

‘She’s lying. Whatever she says, it’s all lies!’ the man shouted her down.

Ardonyx twisted his arm up behind his back and thrust him aside; he staggered and turned on his toes, his hand going to the hilt of his weapon.

‘What’s going on, Ardonyx?’ Ionnyn asked, coming in with Haromyr. Several more T’En stood in the doorway.

The Mieren strongarms looked them over, clearly calculating the odds.

‘If any of them makes a move, Ionnyn, kill them,’ Ardonyx said in T’En. Then he continued in Chalcedonian. ‘I was just paying these Mieren for their service.’

‘Paying them?’ Tobazim objected in T’En. ‘You heard what they–’

‘If we don’t pay them, others like them will hear of it and they’ll consider our people worthless,’ Ardonyx said. His words were reasonable, but his hands shook with fury as he pulled out his pouch and counted out fifteen silver coins.

The leader of the Mieren watched Ardonyx put the pouch away.

‘There you are,’ Ardonyx said, dropping the coins into the man’s worn hands.

‘What about the cost of food?’ the man objected. ‘You can afford it.’

‘You’re lucky to get out of here with your life,’ Tobazim told him, voice tight with anger.

The man glanced from him to Ionnyn and Haromyr, then signalled his companions. With bad grace, the Mieren packed their travelling kits.

The moment they left, the old Malaunje woman dropped to her knees. ‘Adept Ardonyx, we are in your debt.’

‘No. The T’En swore an oath to protect all Malaunje. I am sorry we could not have done more,’ Ardonyx said.

‘They need food and decent shelter,’ Tobazim said. ‘This warehouse is a fire trap, and it’s about to fall down.’

Ardonyx nodded. ‘They can sleep onboard one of my ships.’ He took the old woman’s hands, helping her up. She lifted her face to him, surprised and honoured. ‘Soon, you will have warm food and clean beds, I promise.’

The others crowded them, thanking them, weeping with relief. The children plucked at Tobazim’s robe, trying to find bare skin to touch, needy for the reassurance of his gift. He felt overwhelmed.

‘Wait here by the fire,’ Ardonyx told them. ‘We have to inspect the ships.’

Eagerly, they came over to the fire, some running to fetch the few belongings they’d managed to bring with them.

Ardonyx turned on his heel and marched out. Tobazim strode by his side and Ionnyn dropped into step behind them. Three Malaunje sailors waited with lanterns to light their way.

‘The
Autumn-moons
first.’ Ardonyx headed straight for the gang plank. ‘They’re fine vessels, crafted from strong oak timbers. You’ll find this interesting, Tobazim. Each deck is divided into compartments which can be sealed, so that if one part of the hull is breached, the ship will not sink.’

Tobazim followed, adjusting his weight as the wooden gang plank bounced with their steps. The ship’s intricacies fascinated him, and he wanted to see Ardonyx in his natural element.

On board, he found the high deck at the front of the ship could be reached by a set of stairs, one each side. The rear of ship had two higher decks, one set back further from the other, so that from here it looked like a two-storey building with a large balcony.

Near him, on the mid-deck, were hatch covers and water barrels. Although the ship was long, he could cross the deck in six strides. At least now he understood why Ardonyx thought of the safety of the whole T’Enatuath, rather than an individual brotherhood. He had seen the larger world, and with so many Mieren ranged against them, it was clear to Tobazim that they had to put aside old rivalries.

‘Ionnyn, take three sailors and go below, check for traps and sabotage,’ Ardonyx ordered. He gestured to one of the older Malaunje. ‘Harkar, go to the fore-deck cabins and make a list of what’s been stolen and what needs to be repaired.’

They nodded and divided up the lanterns.

Ardonyx ran lightly up the stairs to the first rear deck, going to the door. Tobazim followed, holding the lantern.

As soon as Ardonyx opened the door the smell hit them. Not dead bodies, excrement. The hall stretched before him, three doors opening from it, a single door at the far end. They held their cloaks over their noses, but it made little difference.

Ardonyx nodded to the far door. ‘My cabin.’

Tobazim tried not to gag.

When Ardonyx swung the door open, Tobazim raised the lantern. The cabin had been stripped; not a stick of furniture remained. Human waste was smeared across the floor, the windows and the bunk base.

‘Barbarians! How could they do this?’ Ardonyx ran to the far window, thrusting it open to vomit into the sea. Tobazim followed, dry retching. The cool night air was a relief. Tobazim welcomed the honest smell of seaweed. Ardonyx raised his head, tears streaming down his face. He wiped a trembling hand across his mouth.

‘We need to get out of here,’ Tobazim croaked.

Ardonyx nodded. He opened all the windows before he left, and the smell followed them out onto the deck.

‘Curse the Mieren,’ Ardonyx muttered. ‘Not content with stealing a king’s ransom in cargo, they’ve stripped my girls and defiled them!’

In a matter of moments, the others joined them, reporting much the same thing. Deeply indignant, they were eager to begin cleaning the ship that very night.

‘Open all the windows and doors to let her air overnight. Check the
Spring-cusp
, I don’t doubt they’ve defiled her, too.’ Ardonyx said. ‘Tomorrow’s soon enough to clean them. Tonight, we’ll make do in the warehouse.’

But he seemed shaken and deep in thought when they returned to that rickety building and their people, who were disappointed to hear the ships could not be used. They had to pack the T’En and all the Malaunje, those who came with them from city, and All-father Tamaron’s people into the dilapidated warehouse.

Ardonyx was distracted, so Tobazim divided the building into areas for Malaunje and T’En. He asked Paravia’s friend, Tia, to make sure the fire was built up and the women and children from the other brotherhood had enough blankets and food.

Meanwhile, the sailors set up private alcoves for the T’En initiates and adepts in a corner, using stacked stores to make partitions. They unpacked the provisions for the night. Soon they had the small travelling braziers fired up, and the smell of sizzling onion, lamb strips and beans filled the air.

When this was done, Tobazim went out to check on the wharf. There were half a dozen ramshackle buildings, all in worse order than this one. The horses had been quartered in one. The sea flanked the wharf on two sides, a cliff cut off the third, and on the fourth, the harbour-master’s strongarms maintained a vigil at the barricade. It was not perfect, but it would have to do.

He noticed someone on the deck of the smaller sisterhood ship. If more Malaunje arrived before Ardonyx’s ships were ready, he’d have to ask the sisterhood for help housing them all.

Tobazim returned to the warehouse, where he told Ionnyn and Haromyr to select five men and take the first watch.

‘Wake us for the midnight to dawn watch. I’ll feel safer when we are aboard the ships.’

Chapter Thirty-One

T
OBAZIM PULLED HIS
cloak more securely around him and walked the wharf in the pre-dawn chill. Despite his lack of sleep, he felt amazingly alert. He hadn’t used his gift for days; it had built up. He tapped into it now, to enhance his sight, but it was like picking at a scab, more pain than pleasure.

There was just enough light to discern the uneven ground and ramshackle buildings. He made his way through the abandoned sheds towards the point where the barricade met the cliff, then he walked the perimeter. Each time he passed one of his people he stopped and spoke softly with them, before moving on.

When he came to the point where the cliff met the wharf, Ardonyx was waiting. Stairs went down here to a floating jetty. There was another set of stairs and floating jetty on the far side of the wharf where the barricade met the sea. Tobazim felt exposed: despite the barricade on one side, there were too many points of access to make the wharf defensible. They headed back towards the warehouse.