Sanctuary (62 page)

‘You poor things.’ Imoshen’s heart went out to them.

Yosune nodded. ‘Then our boat sank and the Sagoras pulled us off our raft. It was lucky we were with your ambassador, or I don’t know what would have happened to us.’

‘Ambassador?’ Egrayne repeated, as Sorne climbed aboard.

‘Ambassador Sorne,’ Imoshen greeted him.

He gave a wry grin. His hair had been shorn and his eyebrows had been all but burned away but he was richly-dressed and he’d delivered these children unharmed, despite their ordeal.

‘I met with the Sagoras last night.’

Before he could say more, the children clamoured for his attention. They’d found their all-fathers and all-mothers, and now they dragged Sorne along to present him as their saviour.

The all-fathers and their seconds, who had been so dismissive of Sorne at the all-council in Shifting-sands Bay, soon discovered they were now in his debt.

Gradually, the chaos subsided as the children were sent below, or to their ships, to be with their loved ones.

Frayvia appeared at Imoshen’s side with a tray of spiced wine, and this time no one protested when Sorne was served first.

Imoshen accepted her glass with a kiss of thanks. ‘To Ambassador Sorne, who rescued our children from the sea-vermin and returned them to the T’Enatuath.’

Her words were repeated and the toast drunk.

But not by All-father Dretsun. ‘Since when do we appoint a Malaunje as an ambassador for our people?’

‘Imoshen appointed me because I’ve had so many years dealing with True-men, and she thought the Sagoras would find a half-blood less threatening than a T’En,’ Sorne replied.

‘Dealing with True-men?’ Dretsun repeated. ‘Last we heard of you, you were riding to battle a rebel baron and save Chalcedonia. Next thing we know you’ve been captured by sea-vermin. Is that how you deal with True-men?’

‘Baron Eskarnor had been dealt with. His army was defeated and I executed him on the battlefield. I was on my way here to act as ambassador when I was captured by the raiders.’

‘I have no objection to Sorne speaking at an all-council,’ Reoden said.

‘You would accord a Malaunje the stature of a brotherhood leader?’ Dretsun asked, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

‘Sorne is an ambassador,’ Imoshen said. ‘He’s already spoken with the Sagora Seven. He –’

The T’Enatuath leaders interrupted her. They wanted to know if the Sagoras had given them sanctuary. Before Sorne could answer, Kiane returned.

She gave Imoshen the causare’s obeisance. ‘The Sagoras invite you to meet them within the Font of Knowledge, when the large moon is four fingers risen. They will accept no more than three delegates.’

On hearing this, there was celebration. Then the advice flooded in. Her hand-of-force wanted Imoshen to take two bodyguards, and offered to organise it. Hueryx claimed his background as a historian and an interest in the history of the Sagoras entitled him to a place at the meeting. Dretsun insisted, since he had compiled the list of inventions suitable for trade, he should attend the meeting.

‘The Sagoras are wary of us,’ Imoshen said. ‘I’ll take Ambassador Sorne and –’

‘Me. I have the list.’ Dretsun patted his robe.

‘Excellent.’ Imoshen held out her hand. ‘Give it to me.’

‘I compiled it. I should go with you.’

‘Because you have already met the Sagoras and have insights into them, like Ambassador Sorne? Or, perhaps, because you’ve studied their history, like Hueryx?’

‘No,’ he conceded. ‘But I –’

‘What else can you contribute to the negotiation? Can you speak Sagorese?’

‘Who speaks Sagorese?’ Dretsun snapped. ‘They don’t even use a civilised script. Only the most learned scholars of the seven kingdoms have bothered to study their obscure language.’

Imoshen inclined her head. ‘You honour me.’

‘You speak Sagorese?’ Dretsun snorted. ‘I don’t believe it.’

‘I am not in the habit of lying,’ Imoshen told him, her voice cold.

Silence fell as Dretsun took a step back. He should apologise, but it was clear he had no intention of doing so.

‘You amaze me, Imoshen.’ Hueryx smoothed over the awkward pause. ‘When did you learn the Sagoras’ private language?’

‘I started taking lessons from Merchant Mercai nearly five years ago. At one point, I planned to come here to study. I’ve had work published in Sagora treatises, so I am known to their scholars and I’ve made a study of their history. I’ll take Ambassador Sorne, who can scribe for me, and one more person. If there was someone able to understand Sagorese while appearing not to, that would be helpful.’

The T’Enatuath leaders glanced to each other.

‘Do none of you speak the Sagoras’ language?’ Imoshen asked, knowing full well that only one person present could speak it.

Ardonyx whispered something to Tobazim, whose eyes widened.

‘My voice-of-reason speaks Sagorese,’ Tobazim announced.

‘What?’ Dretsun lifted his hands as if he could not believe what he was hearing. He turned on Ardonyx. ‘He’s a sea captain, not a scholar.’

‘An explorer needs a facility with language,’ Ardonyx said. ‘I speak five languages fluently and I can get by in another three.’

Imoshen hid a smile. ‘Very good, Captain Ardonyx. You will accompany me.’

‘As you wish, causare.’ He stepped back into place at Tobazim’s side. For a fraction of a heartbeat his eyes met hers. She had to look away before she betrayed herself.

‘Promise the Sagoras nothing until we have discussed the terms,’ Dretsun said. ‘On no account must you give them access to the higher plane.’

‘He’s right,’ Reoden said. ‘The Mieren cannot be trusted with the dangers of the empyrean plane. That sea-vermin power-worker called down a fiant. Sarodyti sacrificed her life to destroy it and restore the balance.’

But Dretsun was remorseless. ‘No access to the higher plane, Imoshen.’

She met his eyes. ‘I will negotiate the best possible outcome for the T’Enatuath, under the circumstances, All-father Dretsun.’

Would he insist on more?

He reached into his robe. Imoshen tensed, gathering her gift.

‘The list you requested, causare.’ He presented her with a scroll.

But his eyes were mocking. She read him. He’d meant to alarm her and he intended to challenge her. Maybe not at this all-council, but...

‘We could deal with these Sagoras,’ All-father Saskeyne said. ‘They are few in number and their province is full of Mieren used to serving a powerful elite. We could replace the Sagora leaders with –’

‘Leaders of our own, and invite the wrath of the mainland kingdoms, not to mention the other Ivernian provinces.’ Imoshen’s voice was sharp as a lash.

Silence fell.

‘Does anyone else harbour secret plans to turn on those who have offered us the hand of friendship?’ Imoshen asked. No one spoke. She turned to Saskeyne. ‘Then I will hear no more of this.’

‘All-father Saskeyne speaks sense,’ Dretsun said. ‘We need a defensible homeland, and an island is more defensible than Chalcedonia ever was. Where will your causareship lead our people, Imoshen? To a home of our own, or to extinction?’

‘All in good time. First we must secure sanctuary, then –’

‘Is that all your causareship will be, stop-gap measures?’ Dretsun demanded. Then he strode off before she could counter by asking him what his plans were.

‘I call an all-mother-council,’ Athazi announced, stepping into the silence. ‘We must deal with Melisarone’s survivors.’

At this, the rest of the brotherhood leaders left.

When the sisterhood leaders were alone, Athazi turned to Imoshen. ‘Now that we have sanctuary, I should take in Mel’s survivors. I’m –’

‘Let’s deal with the Sagoras first. Then we can organise the sisterhoods,’ Imoshen told her.

Athazi’s mouth tightened, but she said nothing, stalking away with her seconds.

‘The survivors are due to go to her,’ Reoden said softly.

‘Would you wish to join her sisterhood?’ Imoshen countered.

Nerazime snorted, then covered her mouth.

Reoden took Imoshen’s hands and kissed her cheek. ‘Good luck tonight. You carry all our hopes.’

And with that the others left, so that only Imoshen and her two seconds remained on the carpet, with Saffazi a few steps behind them.

Imoshen glanced to Egrayne and Kiane. ‘I hate to admit it, but Saskeyne has a point. Back in Chalcedonia, despite the sacrifices our gift-warriors made to protect this plane, all the T’Enatuath ever received from the Mieren was grudging tolerance. Should we seek a kingdom here in the physical world, one we can hold with force?’

‘Yes!’ In her eagerness to be heard, Saffazi stepped onto the all-council carpet. ‘If we’d ruled Chalcedonia instead of greedy King Charald, we could have looked after our people.’

‘Kept the Mieren under our thumbs like slaves?’ Imoshen asked.

‘No, not slaves. They –’

‘They outnumber us ten thousand to one. How would we contain them?’

‘Ruling ourselves is hard enough, without factoring in thousands of Mieren.’ Egrayne shook her head slowly. ‘Our kingdom is mystical.’

‘We can’t live on the empyrean plane,’ Saffazi objected.

‘I was speaking metaphorically.’

‘I know that.’ Saffazi flushed. ‘I’m saying our power on the empyrean plane has not won us the respect of the Mieren, or kept us safe from them.’ She gestured to the
Triumphant
. ‘All-father Saskeyne is right. Only strength in this world will protect us from Mieren. We used to rely on their fear of our gifts to keep them at bay, but they called our bluff. Now we must grow as powerful on the earthly plane as we are on the empyrean plane. Then they will fear us.’

‘Mieren kill what they fear,’ Imoshen said.

‘Then what’s the answer?’ Saffazi asked.

‘I wish I knew.’

S
ORNE SLIPPED FROM
Frayvia’s bed and began to dress. Now that he was about to join Imoshen’s sisterhood, they should formalise their relationship, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

When Frayvia came up behind him and ran her fingernails down his back, he forgot what he’d been about to say.

She laughed and kissed his shoulder. Then she turned him around, suddenly solemn. ‘You did well, bringing those children home to us. But I can read between the lines. You were nearly sold to Maygharians, who wanted to kill you slowly, under torture.’

He kissed her upturned face. ‘It didn’t happen, so –’

‘But it could have.’

‘If I worried about all the things that could happen, I’d never get anything done.’

She thumped his chest and he grinned, absurdly happy.

There was a knock on the door.

Frayvia helped him dress, sighed over the state of his hair and presented him with a scribe’s satchel, with paper, ink and pens. She tugged him down to kiss his lips. ‘Don’t do anything brave.’

He was smiling when he joined Imoshen on the mid-deck. She seemed distracted. He’d already told her his observations based on the meeting last night.

Imoshen glanced around to make sure no one could overhear them. ‘There’s a rumour that behind the walls of the Sagoras’ hidden city, there is an elite group of mystics called Sensitives. These males supposedly have innate power. They say the Sagoras blind them and geld them. Have you heard anything?’

‘I’ve never heard of Mieren having innate power, let alone anything about these Sagora Sensitives.’

‘Few have. The T’En race arose in Chalcedonia. It’s possible a similar race arose in the Sagoras’ home land, beyond the Endless Ocean. You say the philosopher...’

‘Ven Uda.’

‘...hinted that we would arrive today.’

‘That’s how it seemed. The way she put it was ambiguous.’

Imoshen nodded. ‘Tonight you may see things that should go no further, Sorne.’

‘Now that’s ambiguous.’

She smiled, but there was only determination in her eyes. ‘Come on.

Chapter Forty-Eight

I
MOSHEN’S HEART RACED
and her gift tried to break free as she climbed into the rowboat. Tonight she would bargain for the future of her people.

She nodded to the two Malaunje rowers. One was a young warrior, whose name she had to work hard to recall.

‘Meloria.’ She dredged it from her memory. The other rower was Redraven. He’d been with Iraayel and Saffazi the night Safi dragged Iraayel onto the higher plane and nearly got them both killed. Imoshen wondered if Redraven was still in love with Saffazi. ‘Redraven.’

Both rowers were warriors; Kiane had seen to that. They lowered their eyes and put their backs into the oars, guiding the boat across to the
Victorious,
where Ardonyx was already waiting to join her.

As her secret bond-partner climbed down the rope ladder and stepped lightly into the small rowboat, something deep inside Imoshen clenched. She wanted him. She never got enough of him. And she never would, unless things changed.

But tonight there was no time for pleasure. She kept their link closed and focused on what had to be done.

‘Causare.’ He took his seat beside her in the stern. With the two Malaunje rowers facing them and Sorne in the prow, they were hardly alone, but her body didn’t care. A rush of awareness moved over her skin. Again she closed down the instinctive urge to link with him.

As they rowed away from the
Victorious
, Ardonyx waved farewell to his shield-brother. Imoshen turned to see Tobazim standing on the deck.

Alone.

A surge of joyous spite shocked her. She hadn’t known she could be so petty.

Tonight, she took Ardonyx away from Tobazim; but their shield-brother bond was acknowledged and approved of, while the bond she shared with Ardonyx had to be hidden. In all of the T’Enatuath, only her devotee knew the identity of Umaleni’s father.

Imoshen swallowed. ‘It’s fortunate that you speak Sagorese, Ardonyx. We may need that advantage.’

He smiled, for they’d met and fallen in love at the Sagorese language lessons. They’d made the deep-bonding, cementing it later with physical intimacy of such exquisite depth that she wondered how her people could have rejected this. Maybe one day...