The Namura Stone (6 page)

Bennel tried to object, but his cautionary words were brushed off. “Nonsense! Tallen here will be quite capable of taking care of us from here on. And Six said that you were to take a holiday. You certainly deserve one; you haven’t seen your wife for a long time.”

Bennel was torn. On the one hand, he hated to leave Diva and Raven with only Tallen’s protection. On the other, he was longing to spend some time with his wife and children, especially since he knew that they had been evicted from their comfortable home. He hesitated.

“I give you my word that nothing shall happen to either of them,” Tallen told him. “—And if there is any danger, I will take them to safety over the sacred marshes. Only clan members can find safe passage through them.”

The elder man considered this, then gave a slow nod. It was time. He owed his wife and family that consideration. It must be torment for his wife to have to live on his brother’s farm. Her allergy to the vaniven would be causing her huge difficulties. He had to get back to see both her and his two children. He turned to follow Diva, his spirits soaring in the cold morning air at the thought of seeing his family again, however unfortunate the circumstances.

They reached the turning to Mount Palestron before the sun was truly up and said their goodbyes there, arranging to meet at the shuttle in a week’s time. Bennel bent to give a disrespectful tug at Raven’s signature black hair.

“Be good, muffin!”

Raven gave him one of her ravishing smiles, and a huge hug. With difficulty, he disentangled her thin arms from around his neck, and settled her down on the road again. A lump came into his throat as he turned away.

“Keep safe,” he said gruffly.

Diva grinned. “Don’t worry!”

Tallen waved him in the direction of the mountains. “Just get going!” Bennel broke into a jog, a gait the companions used to cover the miles quickly and efficiently, and was soon out of sight.

“Be’ll?” said Raven wistfully, her brow crinkling up at his disappearance. Tallen foresaw tears and hastily began to tickle her, until she dissolved in bubbling gurgles. Then the Namuri threw her up over his shoulders, and he and Diva took the dirt path to the left, the one which led away from the paved and much-used roads of the meritocrats.

However, they had only traveled for a couple of miles when they found their way barred by a group of soldiers and a smiling Tartalus. Tallen put the little girl down behind him and drew his sword. There were no smiles on the Namuri’s face.

Diva had pulled her own Coriolan dagger out of its scabbard too. She was facing her cousin warily, shield at the ready, and at the same time keeping an eye on his men.

“What do you want, Tartalus?” she asked.

He raised one exquisite eyebrow. “Why, cousin, I should have thought that you would have guessed that.” His gaze wandered past Diva, to settle on the small figure that was peering at him around Tallen’s legs. “I thought it would be nice to meet the future ruler of all Coriolis.” He snapped his fingers. “Come here, girl!”

Raven, although only small, felt an instant antipathy to this posturing meritocrat. She put a mutinous expression on her face and shook her head, clutching at Tallen’s knees for support. “Shan’t.”

Tartalus inhaled. “I think you will, little girl. Come here!”

The defiant face regarded him solemnly, then she shook her head again.

The meritocrat took half a step forwards, but found his way blocked by a very angry Diva and a very sharp dagger.

“Take one step further, and I will carve you in two, Cousin!” she snarled, from half-clenched teeth.

Tartalus lifted one hand, and his guards raised and aimed their weapons at the three strangers, as one. Diva lifted an eyebrow.

“Do you think they will be fast enough to stop me killing you, Tartalus?”

He smiled his smug smile again. “I am sure they would be. I pay them extra, you know, and they take my safety very seriously.”

The blade moved an inch closer to his heart. “Then let’s see, shall we?” she muttered, eye to eye.

There was a long silence until Tartalus gave a smooth laugh and took a small step backwards, away from the menacing blade. “Now, really, Diva! There is no reason to start a war, is there? I was merely interested to meet the latest addition to the family, nothing more. I think your reaction is most uncalled-for.”

Tallen, who had been eyeing the surrounding countryside, gave Diva a slight gesture to the right, trying to indicate that the marshes lay that way and that it would be a safe route for them to take. She nodded her understanding.

“Raven,” she called. “Come forward, I would like you to meet your second cousin once removed, Tartalus.”

Raven stumped forwards, a contrary expression on her obstinate little face.

“Nasty man,” she said.

Diva bit her lip. “Just say hello, Raven.”

“Hello.”

Diva met Tartalus’s gaze. “Now you have met her,” she said. “So, can we be on our way?”

“You should be very careful on this track,” said Tartalus. “We often find Namuri thieves using it. And it can be dangerous.” He smiled openly at Tallen, his posture a challenge. “—Especially for them.”

Tallen tilted his own sword in the direction of the meritocrat, visualizing the point settling in right over the heart, and Diva kept her long dagger close to her cousin’s precious skin.

Tartalus looked surprised. “It is our duty to ensure Coriolis is safe,” he said smoothly. “Surely nobody would deny us that?”

“And do you class the clans as a danger, Cousin?” demanded Diva.

“I wouldn’t say that.” But his eyes slipped past her and fastened on Tallen, and his expression said otherwise. Tallen stiffened even more. He looked eager to drop the man where he stood.

The Coriolan meritocrat licked his lips, and stared down the Namuri.

Tallen gave a tiny smile. “I have been waiting for this moment all my life.”

“Then I will make sure that it is unforgettable.”

“You personally used a machete on my teacher.” Tallen raised his sword back behind his head, ready to attack if necessary, his gaze a dark challenge to the older Coriolan, his eyes an invitation to the tomb.

Tartalus signed to his guards, but spun his own sword in a circle at head height once to indicate that he would be more than happy to retaliate.

Diva saw that the guards were all ready to attack, and found herself automatically calculating their chances of success in a full-blown fight. She impetuously thought they might have a chance, although she had a moment’s regret for having sent Bennel on his way. Her own eyes flashed, almost with eagerness, and she raised her own blade. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Raven, who was staring at Tallen in dismay. The Namuri’s absolute stillness was clearly transmitting his underlying fury to the little girl, whose mouth had dropped open and whose eyes were full of fear. Diva was forced to dampen the quick urge to fight. Her eyes flickered around at the guards. Were they about to attack, or was Tartalus merely having some fun? What would happen to Raven, if she and Tallen allowed themselves to be drawn into a fight? She realized that she was betting her daughter’s life on the answer to that question, and at the same time came to the conclusion that it was a bet she wasn’t prepared to make. The prudent thing to do was to get away across the marshes before the situation escalated. No Coriolan guard would dare to follow them there.

“Put the sword down, Tallen,” she said. “We are not looking for a fight.”

Tallen’s eyes met hers. She held his gaze across her imposing will, her face beautifully stark, the skin stretched taut. The Namuri pressed his lips together, clearly struggling to regain control of his feelings. His attention strayed over to where Raven was standing staring at him, scared at the fierceness in the stance of one of her favourite people. Tallen lowered his sword slowly, but stared with his black eyes into those of Tartalus. “Your cousin has stopped me this time, meritocrat,” he growled. “But the day will come, I promise you, when I shall take revenge for all the terror you have caused and the lives you have truncated. I swear by the blue stone that you shall not escape retribution.” He sheathed his sword and gave the smallest of nods to Diva to indicate that he was ready.

Diva was watching her cousin’s eyes, and she saw two things, very clearly. The first was a sudden moment of decision, quite unmistakable. His overblown, handsome, dissolute features crystallized into a certain hardness that told her he had just made up his mind about some particular course of action. She knew what it was, she thought. Seeing both of the next heirs to the Coriolan meritocracy out here on their own, with only one guard, was proving a temptation to him. He might be seeing himself as the successor and calculating how to make that happen. But she also saw him relax his shoulders. Perhaps he had decided that this was not the right time. Diva was pretty sure he would not act hastily, not attack just yet, but she was not prepared to bet Raven’s life on it. The hungry look in his eyes had given away his intentions.

She gave Tallen a speaking glance and jerked her head towards the marsh. Tallen was before her and had gathered up Raven in front of him as he made his way swiftly into the quickmire, holding her so that his body protected her from any weapons. He just hoped that Diva would have the sense to follow his footsteps exactly as they raced into the unforgiving bogs of Coriolis. One false step, and she would be swallowed up whole. But he knew better than to look back, too. He would give the guards no chance to get close enough to Raven to harm her. He moved quickly on, holding the young girl in front of him. She was screaming with excitement and seemed to be enjoying the speed.

Diva found it extremely hard to follow his pace and yet make sure that her feet were landing in exactly the same spots as his, and she had no time to think about anything else. It took long minutes before she felt Tallen begin to slow down, in front of her. Finally, after looking around them carefully, he stopped, placing Raven with great care on a small expanse of dry rock.

“Do not move, little one,” he cautioned the small girl. Then he turned to Diva, who was trying to catch her breath. “They cannot follow us here. We are safe. I shall take you to the Namuri village through the marshes, now.”

Diva nodded. “Lucky you knew your way through there.”

“Not luck.” The Namuri seemed to travel inside his memory briefly, because his face showed a momentary fondness, just for a fraction of a second. Then he sighed, before explaining. “One of my favourite teachers was trapped by Tartalus, nearly ten years ago. He is one of the few who came back. He is the Namuri who most understands the secret signs of the sacred marshes, and he knew that we needed his help. He only made the decision to survive in order to teach the future generations how to evade Tartalus’s traps. He sacrificed himself to save as many other Namuri as he could, my sister and I included. But he will never again touch a namura stone, never be able to feel its protective aura.”

Diva had gone still. She had to ask the question, even though she already knew the answer. “What did they do to him?”

“Tartalus amputated both his hands.” Tallen paused, seemed to go back to some place inside himself again, then went on. “I told you before what he did, what he refers to as his
culling
of the clans?”

Diva nodded. “Tartalus gives them the choice of … of amputation or drowning in the marshes.”

Tallen turned to Diva, his stance challenging. “What would you choose,
Valhai
Diva? Would you opt to be dismembered, to have a chance of living? The Namuri don’t. Most of us choose the quickmire.”

“You choose death?”

“Our faith tells us that the stones will look after us, will show us a new path, even if we know, in our heart of hearts, that it will not be in this life. We walk into the marshes, and to death, with humility. Few of us are brave enough to choose life without any possibility of dignity. My teacher is revered among my clan for the great sacrifice he made.”

Tallen’s eyes flashed, for a moment as hard as namura stone itself. “Your cousin was the one who used the machete on my teacher. He wanted to do it
personally
. Tartalus was the one who severed his hands, was the one who left him in a pool of his own blood. The meritocrat was still only a boy himself. And you know what he did?
He laughed
.”

Diva felt so much revulsion at belonging to the same family as Tartalus that she closed her eyes. “I am sorry.”

“I know.” The fire in the Namuri’s eyes died away. “But, one day, I shall kill him.”

“Yes. I think you will. If
I
don’t rid him of his earthly worries first.”

They exchanged a rather fierce grin. Raven looked up at the two adults and smiled too, even though their expressions were not completely reassuring. Then she spotted something.

“F’ower,” she told them, getting to her feet and tottering out towards the green grassy clumps to reach it.

Both adults leapt at the same time. “NO!”

Her face fell as she was pulled back from the brink of the lush green clump of grass, and it crumpled altogether as she was carried summarily away from the prettiest red flower she had ever seen. She was cross for quite half an hour, until the security of Tallen’s arms  calmed her, and she dropped into a deep sleep.