Shadowless: Book 1 of the Ilmaen Quartet

by Helen Bell

  ‘You should've worn a jacket.’

  ‘I should have worn a jacket.’

  They smiled weakly at each other; he settled the cup on his knee. She sat to finish her own drink and watched him. He drank distractedly, great gulps broken by long minutes staring into the embers. She was intruding on his grief; she rose to leave.

  ‘Stay,’ he said abruptly. Then, ‘Stay a while,’ more gently. She sat again, curling her feet up under her. She was not sure what to do next; she wanted to talk more to him about her fears, but this wasn’t the right time for that. ‘What will you do now?’ she finally asked. He sat up tall for a moment, then settled back again with a sigh.

  ‘Something I should have done long ago: tell you the whole story. You’re owed it, especially since I’ve been thinking very hard these last few hours as to whether to return to Ilmaen at all.’ Renia made a barely perceptible movement, every muscle in her body tensing at his comment. He was unaware of this and carried on speaking.

  ‘I’m sorely tempted not to go back. After so many years’ absence, who will know me when I get there, let alone believe my story, even assuming I can keep one step ahead of Lemno? As to the Crown... well, that’s the heart of it all.’ He paused, preoccupied by his thoughts.

  ‘With Jastur and his brother gone, who else but Maregh can be Crown?’ Renia could have bitten her tongue as soon as she had said this, so keen to encourage him into staying she had spoken without thinking. He stared at her intently for long silent moments until a wry smile touched his mouth.

  ‘Don’t be fooled by that broadsheet. Jastur’s brother is not dead.’

  ‘You mean to go back and make him Crown then? But you said he wasn’t up to it… and you can’t be sure he’s alive,’ Renia protested.

  ‘Oh, I can be sure, on both counts,’ he said, his smile even more wry. ‘Because I’m Jastur’s brother.’

  ‘You…’ was all she could manage. Her voice had deserted her.

  ‘I am Kerin Hedsarol.’ He paused momentarily, took a deep breath. ‘Kerin Hed Sarol now. Heir to the Crown.’ That change, putting more emphasis on the ‘Hed’ must have been significant but it barely registered with her, compared to his revelation.

  ‘And I don’t want it, Renia. When people look at the Crown they see power and wealth and prestige, and they think it an enviable position. That is what Maregh has done. He forgets that with all that comes responsibility – crushing responsibility. Tens of thousands of lives are governed by your decisions. And when you are Crown you are Crown for the rest of your life, twenty-four hours a day. Every action is watched and judged; what you wear, who you do or don’t talk to – whose range you sit by, drinking mulled wine in the middle of the night!

  ‘I’ve far preferred life as a second son. It’s not too demanding. All I have to do is keep from getting my head knocked off in combat, and fortunately I have a talent for that. It’s let me keep body and soul together a bit longer.’ He laughed a little, but it was a hollow sound. Yet his words had stirred up a desperate hope in Renia.

  ‘The truth is, the thought of being Crown terrifies me,’ he continued. ‘I can’t do what Jastur did. I can force people to do what I want them to, but that’s only ever a temporary measure. Disarming or even killing a man is easy compared to what Jastur could do; he could create lasting change, because he could change people’s minds. No one should be responsible for a whole nation without the ability to do that. What if I’m tempted to use force because it’s what I know best? Ilmaen would be better off if I stayed here and took up the sheep farming Vel is so disillusioned with.

  ‘The trouble is, there’s one thing I fear more than this burden, than having power I might misuse, and that’s leaving it in the hands of those I know will.

  ‘I’m a selfish man in many ways, but my upbringing taught me one simple notion: that what I want will, must, always come second to the well-being of Ilmaen and its people. If I don’t return then I’m no better than my uncle.

  ‘So,’ he said with a sigh, ‘that makes two reluctant travellers on this journey. I only hope Vel has enough enthusiasm to sustain us both.’ His empty wine cup came down heavily on the edge of the range. Renia stared at it, drained of hope herself. He had been so near to giving it up! Yet more evidence that this thing was inevitable, that it was a waste of time even trying to fight it. She might as well give in and follow the tide of events. Her turn to sigh as she got up from the bench.

  ‘Vel's enthusiasm would get us twice round the world without stopping, sir,’ she remarked, ‘but starting out without enough sleep would not be wise. Do try to get some. I've put a warming pan in your bed, don't burn yourself on it.’ She picked up her cup.

  ‘A warming pan! Is there anything you don’t think of?’

  She shrugged. ‘Don’t you fall asleep on this seat, sir, or you'll be as stiff as a board come morning.’ She reached across Kerin to take his empty cup. As she did so he caught her hand in his, an earnest expression on his face.

  ‘Renia, can we drop the “sir”? That would be a bad habit to get into, out in the world. I’ll take a false name at some stage, but till then it’s Kerin.’ His face softened. ‘Thank you. For tonight, for listening. You have a good heart, Renia. Sleep well.’ He kissed her hand lightly; it would have seemed gallantly romantic, only he released it at once and was back in his thoughts, staring into the fading glow from the embers in the range. Even though Renia was right in front of him, she might have become invisible. She hesitated in bewilderment before taking up his cup and starting uncertainly away, only to stop halfway to the scullery and look back at him. He didn’t notice, not even when she stopped to stare a second time at the curtain to her room.

  Sleep well? There was more chance the village would make her their May Queen.

  Chapter 6 – Far-seeing

  She managed a few, snatched moments of sleep that night, rising before first light and bringing her candle with her. Kerin was still sitting in the parlour, but looking less preoccupied this morning.

  ‘You didn’t go to bed, did you?’ said Renia, making it a gentle accusation.

  ‘No. But your orders were not to fall asleep here.’

  ‘You must be exhausted.’

  ‘A little tired. Very hungry.’

  ‘You should go to bed when you’ve had something to eat,’ she advised. He shook his head.

  ‘There’s too much to do. The others need to know who I am, and we must start the riding and sword practice today, as well as the farm tasks. I will go to bed early tonight, you have my word.’

  He had managed to keep the fire in all night, which was good; it took her less time to get breakfast ready. In the meantime, she rummaged in the store cupboard and picked out two of the best of the winter-stored apples, and some cheese. He ate them neatly but quickly, then jumped up and grabbed the wood basket. ‘I’ll fetch some more...’

  Kerin paused as Melor’s curtain went back and he stepped out with his candle. If he was up, Vel wouldn’t be far behind; with Kerin in his room, Vel was sleeping on a straw mattress on Melor’s floor, and there was barely room for the old man to get out of bed without stepping on his ward. Sure enough, Vel followed, rubbing his eyes.

  Renia touched Kerin’s shoulder, took the basket from him. He turned back to the others.

  ‘I have something to tell you both. Shall we sit down?’

  ‘I’ll fetch the wood,’ said Renia, and left them to it.

  Kerin ate a good breakfast on top of what he had already had, gave them two hours of riding practice, and between them they finished all the farm tasks by lunchtime. Renia helped Melor with the afternoon check on the sheep in the farthest fields, leaving the other two free for sword practice.

  When they got back, Vel was already making progress. Kerin had set up a stack of straw bales and marked limewash targets on them. Vel’s task was to stab the target named for him by Kerin and spin through three hundred and sixty degrees in time to stab the next one called. Being tall, Vel had always had
a tendency to slouch, but there was little evidence of it now. Renia had never thought of her brother as an elegant man, but the technique this exercise needed lent him a new gracefulness.

  Kerin stopped him and changed the exercise. He explained the basic stance and the workings of wrist, arm and upper body leading to an effective downward cut, and demonstrated how to make the attack from either left or right. Vel gave a reasonable approximation of the movement; Kerin made a small correction to his stance and Vel tried again. There was little of the bales left by the end of the practice session.

  Soon evening was upon them. They ate their supper; it was a much quieter, more solemn meal than those they had shared of late. Kerin excused himself, literally nodding in his dish by halfway through the meal, and went to bed.

  oOo

  This pattern was repeated, with small variations, for the next six days. Time was also spent preparing what they needed for the journey, fetching up provisions from the deep stores, checking the oilcloths they would use for ground sheets and tents, and other details advised by Kerin.

  But the heart had gone out of him. The quiet fire that had burnt in his eyes was quenched, and everything he did, he did mechanically. He spoke very little, smiled not at all. The charming youth had been replaced overnight by a taciturn man. The others were careful around him, trying to judge his needs as he asked for almost nothing now. How much of the change was due to the loss of his brother, and how much to the burden placed on him by that loss, they could only guess.

  He insisted that they take at least one longer ride out during these days, to get used to being in the saddle. They chose a cove some hours away as their destination, rose in the early hours well before dawn, packed a cold breakfast and set out.

  oOo

  The coastline near the cove was sheer cliffs, the few beaches below them all inaccessible except for this one, where a stream had over the millennia cut a valley down through the cliff leading to the sea. If you tried to follow the stream from the top, its course was too steep; the path they needed seemingly meandered away from the cove along the sheer drop but eventually led down a sloping shelf to meet the stream again, where it turned from being a series of little waterfalls on to its course for the sea. They tied the horses up at the top, where there was both water and grazing for them, while they stretched their legs and braved the path.

  Dawn had turned an hour since, and the sun was well over the horizon. It was cold in the valley, but bright. Everything about the place felt as alive as could be. The water babbled across the stones and a single bird, long-legged and skittish, pierced the air with its gentle but insistent piping. Vel was imitating it as he took the winding path down to the beach.

  Renia stood at the top of the path, staring into the cove. The stream looked as if it was feeding into a sea of molten gold. Kerin came up behind her, pack in hand, and took in the same view.

  ‘Isn't it lovely?’ she asked him.

  ‘Very lovely,’ he agreed. ‘You are still sure you want to go with us, Renia?’

  She looked over her shoulder at him: there was nothing to be read in his expression.

  ‘Don’t ask me that. Otherwise I might ask you the same thing.’

  This provoked a wry smile from him.

  ‘You know I am going.’ He looked down the path, and saw that Vel was already far along it. ‘Come on.’

  He started off, but realized she was not following him. When he turned back, Renia seemed to have grown tense, turned pale. She blinked at him slowly, swayed a little.

  ‘Renia?’ She was looking in his direction, but seemed unable to focus on him.

  ‘The fairies are here,’ she said, which made no sense at all, and started to sit down but instead pitched forward with a little cry and fell on to the grass. Kerin ran back and found her shaking all over, twisted up in muscle spasm with her eyes wide and staring. Her breathing came in little strangled gasps.

  ‘Vel!’ he bellowed, panicked by the look of her. ‘Velohim!’

  Vel scrambled back up the path, but stopped and took his time when he saw what was happening.

  ‘It's all right,’ he assured Kerin as he joined him. ‘It's only one of her falling fits.’

  ‘She looks to be in pain,’ Kerin observed anxiously.

  ‘No, she’s told us she doesn’t feel a thing, and it doesn't seem to do her any harm. Stay clear, though. Sometimes she jerks about, and if she catches you a blow you'll surely know it. Melor has read old books about it. He says something is happening in her brain that makes the messages it sends go awry – hence all the twitching and seeing things that aren’t there. She'll be right as rain when she wakes up; we just have to make sure she doesn't hurt herself on anything.’ Vel moved a stone Renia’s leg was in danger of catching then sat down nearby. Kerin sat too, watching her in awful fascination.

  ‘So this is when she has her visions?’ he asked.

  ‘It doesn’t happen in every fit, but they do seem to make her more, I don't know – receptive. Sometimes she sees stuff without all this thrashing about, and you can talk to her then. We call them waking fits. They’re harder to spot; unless she says something out of place or we notice her looking a bit daydreamy, it's hard to tell. Melor’s books say that with either kind of fit, people often grow out of them. I was hoping she already had. It’d been months since she had one… at least until these last few weeks. At least they’re getting shorter now than when she was young. The first one I saw, I thought she was dying; she was in it so long. Yes, look, her breathing's going back to normal. This is a short one. She'll wake up in a minute.’

  Sure enough, the shaking was stopping and Renia’s eyes closed. The tension slowly worked out of her, clawed hands relaxing into their normal shape. She looked now as though she really had gone to sleep. Vel moved across to brush the hair out of her face and spoke softly to her, letting her know someone was there. After a minute she gave a long heavy sigh, opened her eyes again, and started to get up. Both men moved to help her; she wanted to stand, but Vel made her sit on a grassy knoll in case she was dizzy. She let herself be seated, rubbing her arm and dusting the dirt from her face.

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine,’ she reassured him. ‘I just caught my elbow when I fell.’ She turned at once towards Kerin, a smile of pure radiance on her face.

  ‘Kerin – it's all right. Jastur's alive!’

  ‘What?’ the two men chorused.

  ‘Yes! It’s true…’ Her voice faltered as she looked hard at Kerin, and he could not guess what she was reading in his face. With an effort he mastered his shock, knelt down by her and held her by both shoulders, not daring to believe this. For a terrible thought had darkened his mind: that this was a lie, told to relieve his misery.

  ‘Renia, are you sure?’ Her look was steady, defiant even. She had seen what he was thinking. ‘Positive.’ He hated to continue this, but...

  ‘Then you can describe him to me?’

  ‘Dark hair, fair-skinned with a stern face, and bearded. Above the beard there's a little scar, just here.’ She indicated on her own cheek, below and to one side of her right eye. ‘I think it reminds him of you,’ she added hesitantly.

  Kerin's hands dropped from her shoulders and he stood up. ‘That’s Jastur,’ he confirmed. ‘I put that cut there myself in sword practice, the day before we left Federin.’ He felt dazed; whether from shock or relief, he was not sure.

  ‘Ren, do you know where he is?’ Vel put in. She frowned in thought.

  ‘Somewhere deep? It's really dark in there, dark and cramped. He doesn't want to be there. Maybe a ship's cabin?’

  ‘Or a prison cell.’ Kerin was coming out of his daze. He could think of many places that qualified as dark, cramped and unpleasant. But at least he was alive!

  ‘If we eat quickly, we can go straight back. We must start out tomorrow now, knowing this.’ He began to unpack their meal there on the sward, giving the job far more attention than it needed, using the distraction to calm himself.
/>
  ‘I’ll eat in a moment,’ he heard Renia say. ‘I’m dirty, I must wash, and I want to check on Bluey.’ She must have flicked her eyes towards the horses or something; Kerin didn’t see what exactly but, whatever hint she gave him, her brother took it.

  ‘Show me what you're checking for. I'll see if I can help.’

  Vel followed her over to where she was making a show of fixing Bluey's bridle. ‘What is it?’ he asked. She tilted her chin towards Kerin.

  ‘How did he react? Did I scare him too?’

  Vel shrugged. ‘Same as usual.’ Her face fell; he tried to make light of things. ‘He was mostly bothered because he thought you were in pain.’

  Renia smiled slightly at his attempts to make her feel better. ‘It must look that way.’ She used the back of her hand to feel her face. ‘At least I didn’t drool in front of him.’ But Vel’s expression had turned apologetic.

  ‘Sorry. I did clean you up a bit while you were waking.’

  Renia sighed. ‘Go and have your meal, I'm not hungry. I'll take Bluey along the cliffs. I want to see if he does what I tell him or if he's just been copying the other horses. Tell Kerin I’ll be ten minutes, no more.’ She stooped to drink from the stream and wash her face before walking Bluey up the slope.

  oOo

  Kerin handed Vel a mug of milk as he sat down. Breaking up the sweetloaf, he handed Vel a piece and took a wedge for himself but did not eat it, turning it around in his hand. Vel gestured at it.

  ‘Something wrong?’

  Kerin looked down at the bread, realized what he had been doing.

  ‘No, no. I was only thinking.’ He broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth, chewed and swallowed.

  ‘Vel, is your sister seeing the future? She talked as though it was happening in the present.’

  ‘I'd say this is the present.’

  ‘I thought she had visions of the future?’

  Vel smiled. ‘She just has visions. It's no good asking either of us how it works; we simply don't know. Last time something was coming, and she knew that. This time she spoke in terms of here and now. The here and now ones make a bit more sense to her; she's spoken of feeling drawn out of herself, of looking in on things somewhere else, even of communicating with people there. The future ones are vaguer, she says, sort of out of reach; that's how she can tell the difference between them. Hell, ask her about it. All a mere mortal like I can do is give you second-hand information.’