Read North Star Guide Me Home Online
Authors: Jo Spurrier
Isidro sat back in his chair, tipping his head to look up and think. He should have stayed with Cam and got drunk. Perhaps that would help, although not with trying to make sense of how he felt, but by making the question irrelevant. He cast around the chamber. Every room seemed to be stocked with at least one bottle or flask, and no evening passed without Cam having a cup near his hand. But it seemed that whoever provided the stuff hadn’t yet made it to his offices.
There was a knock at the door, and Isidro straightened. Moments ago he’d been craving company, but in that instant he felt the sudden urge to bar the door. Instead, he stayed where he was, and growled under his breath. ‘Black Sun, Alameda, what did I say?’
With no reply, the door eased open as a woman with long black hair peered through.
At first glance Isidro thought it was Sierra, and his stomach clenched in sudden anxiety. He didn’t want to see her, though he couldn’t explain why, even to himself.
But it wasn’t Sierra, it was Anoa, strikingly beautiful despite her mussed hair and the dark marks under her eyes that told of broken sleep. She slipped through the gap and then leant on the door to close it.
He had no idea why she’d come, but he had half a mind to send her away — until he spied the bottle she clutched in one fist.
For a moment she watched him steadily, then she came forward to set the bottle on his desk with a
clunk
. Then she dragged over a spare chair to sit across from him, putting her feet up on a corner of the desk as she took a swig. ‘Don’t try to tell me it’s too early,’ she said with a warning tone. ‘’Cause I simply don’t care.’
He held his hand out for the bottle and she passed it to him. It was better than the stuff Cam had found. Smoother. He passed it back. ‘Are you alright, Anoa?’
‘That’s what I came to ask you. But on the way, I was thinking. People have been asking me that cursed question all morning. Do I truly look that bad?’
‘How drunk are you?’
She held up one hand, her thumb and forefinger an inch or so apart. ‘Not nearly enough, but I’m pacing myself. There’s a long way to go yet. But you asked me first, so now I can repay the favour. Are you alright, Issey?’
He shrugged. ‘What choice is there?’
She took another pull from the bottle and watched him for a long moment. ‘I don’t know how you can stand to have him under the same roof,’ she said at last. ‘Just the idea that the cursed Slavers are already here has me wanting to hide like a scared rabbit. They are here, aren’t they? That’s what you all think. I had nightmares last night that the bastard who raped me might be inside these cursed walls already, watching me. He’ll be part of whatever they’ve planned against you, you can count on it. He hates you that much. If I found myself in the same room with him, like you were with Rasten … well, if I’d been in your place the Gods themselves couldn’t have kept me from putting a knife in the bastard’s back.’
Isidro rocked back in his chair, suddenly remembering a night in deep winter when he’d stood on a frozen riverbank. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I did that once, come to think of it.’
She watched him with bright, hungry eyes. ‘You did? How did it feel? Did it help?’
He could still remember the bite of the blade, but he’d had such a short time to savour it. Only days later the Akharians had made him a slave and the man he’d tried to kill had saved his life instead. He hadn’t thought about it in an age. ‘It did,’ he said. ‘A bit. It felt cursed good, I’ll tell you that much.’
‘I’ll bet,’ she said, softly, and rubbed her weary eyes. ‘I thought I could handle it, last night after Hespero told us the wretched Slavers never left, but when we went to bed I couldn’t bear to close my eyes. I made Ardo barricade the door, and kept a knife in my hand all night long. Not that it’d do a cursed bit of good against a mage. He used to tell me that I’d never get away from him, that if I ever tried to escape he’d bring me back and make me pay.’
Isidro leant forward, catching her eye. ‘We won’t let him hurt you again.’
She narrowed her eyes in sudden fury and took another swig. ‘Don’t talk to me like a cursed child. We’re on the back foot here, I know it. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about. How do you do it, Isidro? How can you be under the same roof as him and not try to claw your way out of your own skin? I can’t go on like this. The fear is killing me.’
With a sigh he reached for the bottle, and she let him have it. He took a long drink, feeling the burn of the liquor down his throat and into his belly. It felt very strange next to the chill of his power wrapped around his spine like armour. ‘It’s not the same,’ he said at last. ‘Your son of a bitch didn’t do it under orders, to save his own hide. He doesn’t regret the harm he’s done, and hasn’t tried to make amends. And even if he did, it doesn’t mean you have to forgive him. You can still spit in his face and curse him by the Twin Suns.’
Anoa wrapped her arms around herself. ‘And is that what you’ve done? Forgiven him?’
He hadn’t even realised what he’d said until she repeated the words. ‘That’s not what I said.’
‘I know. That’s alright, you don’t have to answer.’ She looked away, eyes full of tears. ‘Sirri has. But it was different for her, too. She made her choice, she knew what she was getting herself into … but does that really change anything? I can’t decide.’
‘You’ll drive yourself mad trying to compare them.’
Anoa dropped her gaze. ‘I suppose so. I’m just so cursed tired of being afraid. And I’m not the only one. Have you spoken to any of the people out there? They’ve all heard the news, because those folk that cursed Hespero brought have talked of nothing else. They know the Akharians are still here, they know they’re going to make their move. That’s why so many of them turned out to plead for Rasten’s life. They call him the Chainbreaker, did you know that? They know what he’s done, but they don’t care, because he set them free. I can’t imagine how you feel, knowing that. I can’t imagine how
I’d
feel.’
Isidro shrugged again, and took another long pull from the bottle. ‘It is what it is,’ he said. ‘He’s not the same man now. And he’s too cursed valuable to throw away.’
Anoa nodded, slowly. ‘The people know something big is coming, and he saved them once, after all. They’re scared, Issey. I’m scared.’
‘I know, Ani,’ he said. ‘We all are. But we’ll find a way to fight them. We haven’t come this far to fail now.’
She stood, more than a little unsteady on her feet. ‘I cursed well hope you’re right.’
Once she left, Isidro was too fuzzy-headed to think clearly, or to do anything much, really. He must have laid his head down on his arm upon the desk and gone to sleep, for that was how he was when Delphine woke him, some hours later. ‘Issey?’
He lifted his head with a groan, wincing at the brightness of the lamps. ‘What?’ he said. ‘Is there trouble?’
‘No, no … Ardamon’s here to see you, that’s all. How are you feeling?’
He turned away, unable to bear the concern in her eyes. ‘Like I’ve had too much to drink.’
‘Ah. I heard you’d been talking to Anoa. I think Mira put her to bed in our quarters, poor girl. Here, I made you some coffee. It always helps.’
She’d set a bowl by his elbow, and had another in her hand. Isidro studied it for a long moment before steeling himself to pick it up. He didn’t want it, but no more could he bring himself to spurn it. He’d been too cold to her, this woman who’d saved his life. She deserved better.
The coffee was dark and bitter, well suited to his mood. He stood, shaking his head to clear it, and wrapped his hand around the bowl, feeling its warmth. As he raised his eyes to Delphine, he noted something odd … there was a spider web in her curly hair, and two halves of a broken fur-hunter’s arrow had been tucked through her sash. He frowned at the sight of it. ‘What have you been doing?’
She followed his gaze, and set her bowl down to pull the broken arrow from her belt. Instead of a sharp metal point it was tipped with a block of wood, the size and shape of a water-skin stopper. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Some young lads shot it at me. Ardamon had men searching the cellars, and they found some strange chalk marks on the walls that weren’t there a few days ago. Someone thought they might be Akharian, so he asked me to take a look. They’re meaningless, as far as I know.’
‘But the arrow?’ he said.
‘Oh, some young lads were playing about, shooting these things at each other. What is it?’
‘It’s a bolt-headed arrow, for hunting small beasts for fur — it won’t damage a hide like a metal tip will. They’re also good for war games, if you’re a young lad playing about.’
‘Well, I caught the wretched thing on a shield, but the men escorting me got the fright of their lives. They drew steel, but then the lads came forward and let the guards roar tar out of them. The head man wanted the lads flogged, but I forbade it. They’re just boys! The eldest couldn’t be more than fourteen.’
Isidro winced at that. Ardamon hadn’t been there, from the way she told it. Just as well, he wouldn’t have taken kindly to having her speak against his orders. ‘That’d sting more than any lash. If they took the shot without being sure of their target, they deserve the whipping.’ The coffee was helping already and seemed to have eased the pounding in his head and the churning in his gut. Perhaps there was some use for the stuff after all. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Where’s Ardamon?’
‘Just outside. I’ll send him in.’
She left, taking her broken arrow with her, and a moment later Ardamon came through the doors, scowling.
‘Trouble?’ Isidro asked him.
‘Not truly, but it does look like we’ve got some rats within our walls. I’ve arranged a couple of hounds for the royal quarters, to guard the doors at night. We’ll have your checkpoints up by this evening. Alameda’s sworn she’ll keep the mages working until they’re all in place, and I’ve got workmen walling off the unused parts of the palace. There’re signs of activity in the cellars, and beyond the inhabited regions of the palace — nothing concrete, but enough to make me suspicious. Isidro, I want to know right away if you get one of your cursed hunches, alright?’
Isidro nodded. ‘I’ll send word.’
‘Tell me, is it truly a good idea having that mad dog in our walls?’
Isidro leant back with a sigh. ‘Hard to say. It’s better to have him where we can keep an eye on him, and when the Akharians do attack, he might prove useful. Is there anything else, Ardo?’
Ardamon grimaced. ‘Yes, unfortunately. Hespero and his men are gone. They took their chance to slip away. It seems some idiots on the gate decided to abandon their post to come up here and gawk. I’ve ordered the deserters flogged. We can’t tolerate any man shirking his duty, not with this threat hanging over our heads.’
Isidro clenched his fist in sudden anger. ‘Tigers take them!’ These men weren’t true soldiers, not yet. It had been easier to maintain discipline in the west. Now that they were home, the constant threat that had kept them knit close was gone. Still, he thought, if the Akharians already had their spies embedded, they’d find out we have Rasten one way or another. ‘Warn Sirri before you send for the whip,’ he said. ‘Don’t let her be taken by surprise.’
Ardamon nodded. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘about last night. I was out of line, what I said to Sierra. I didn’t think, after seeing Ani puffed up like a scared cat all night. I suppose I can understand why she took it the way she did.’
‘Good,’ Isidro said, ‘but if you’re trying to apologise, you’re talking to the wrong person.’
Ardamon sighed. ‘Fair enough. I wanted to thank you, all the same, for talking to her. Perhaps it’ll help.’ He shook himself. ‘That’s my report, but Mira wants to see you. She’s been interviewing our old allies from Ruhavera, and she said she was heading back to quarters.’
‘I’ll go find her now,’ Isidro said.
He reached the royal chambers just as Mira did, followed by a nursemaid carrying Cade and a servant bearing a pile of note-tablets.
‘Ah, Issey, I was about to send someone to find you. I’ve been talking to the folk Hespero brought. You were right, they were turned out of Ruhavera months ago. They were held in a kind of prison camp until about a week ago, when Hespero brought them the rest of the way.’
‘A week? So about the time we made landfall.’
‘Mm. Looks like they have a base nearby.’
‘Do Cam and Ardamon know about this?’
‘Not yet. They’re both busy getting our internal defences in place, and then there’s this business with Rasten as well … I’ve told them we’ll dine here tonight to go over everything. Tomorrow we’ll have to send scouts to follow Hespero’s path and see if we can learn where they’re based.’
‘Might be easier said than done,’ Isidro said. ‘They know if we find them Sierra will bury them.’
‘I know, but we have to chase down every lead.’
Isidro grasped the edge of the table with his steel hand. ‘Curse it, we can’t even watch for supply caravans to lead us there. They’ve had ample time to get in stores and they’ll move swiftly, before we’ve had a chance to place fresh spies.’
‘Mm,’ Mira said. Here in the privacy of their quarters, she allowed herself to look worried. ‘It’s not looking good, is it? I’m starting to think we should have chosen somewhere other than Lathayan to set up. But where? The defences here might be crumbling, but they’re worse everywhere else along the coast. It looks like the Akharians haven’t left a city with walls more than waist high.’
‘I know. I thought it was to keep the Mesentreians from retaking the settlements, but now I suspect it was to push us here, where they wanted us. Alright, did your informants have anything else to tell us?’
Mira bit her lip and nodded, reaching into the front of her jacket. ‘One more thing, though I don’t know what to make of it. One of the women gave me this. She said it turned up in one of her packs, and she swears blind that it wasn’t there yesterday.’ She gave Isidro a scrap of paper.
He unfolded the crumpled fragment and smoothed it flat. It bore a simple sketch, a leafy vine swelling to a bud at its tip. But instead of a flower bursting from the bud, it was a bird, its feathered wings drawn in delicate strokes. He’d seen drawings like this before … only they weren’t truly drawings, just the thoughts of a trapped mind taking shape on a slate of stone.