Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set

by Marianne Ratcliffe

  ‘Hold on!’ Zastra protested. ‘I doubt my parentage counts in my favour as much as yours.’

  Alboraz gestured them to sit.

  ‘I am glad some of our people have found sanctuary, for things do not go well here. The Golmeirans have us penned in and they hunt the surrounding land so we have no prey. We have little food and soon we will have no light. Ixendred has set a migaradon to guard the Jula Mountains to the north. He is smart that one. We are down to our last few barrels.’

  ‘I wondered why there were so few lamps lit as we came through,’ Kylen remarked. ‘What about the other caves?’

  ‘Most are empty. We are no more than five hundred souls now. We couldn’t feed everyone who came to us and so most of the refugees left to join the working parties. Our people will gladly fight any enemy armed with a sword or scythal, but hunger can’t be defeated so easily.’

  Kylen sank her head into her hands.

  ‘So few. Then what chance for Sendor? Thorlberd has truly won.’

  Her words hung heavily in the darkness of the cave.

  ‘What about Finistron?’ Zastra asked. Alboraz shot a keen glance toward her.

  ‘Finistron? What interest have you in that place?’

  ‘My brother is held prisoner there. We came to ask for your help.’

  Alboraz bared his teeth. ‘Why would I risk the lives of my people to rescue the son of a Golmeiran Grand Marl?’

  ‘Because we have a debt to repay. Zastra helped me rescue Zax,’ Kylen said.

  ‘This one? I can’t believe she did any such thing. Look at her, shaking like a jula tree in a summer breeze. She has no scars.’

  By the sound of breaths being sucked in, Zastra reckoned she had just been insulted.

  ‘What have scars to do with anything?’ she asked.

  ‘It is a Sendoran expression,’ Kylen explained apologetically. ‘No scars means no battle experience.’

  Zastra had had enough of Sendoran taunts. She turned her back to Alboraz and pulled up the back of her shirt. There were gasps as she exposed the double scar that ran from her shoulder to the base of her spine.

  ‘That a big enough scar for you? Anyone else here fought a migaradon and lived to tell the tale?’

  There was silence.

  ‘I thought not.’ Zastra lowered her shirt. Alboraz cleared his throat.

  ‘It would be madness to attack Finistron head on. The fortress is impregnable. Unless you can tame migaradons as well as fight them, Zastra?’

  It was the first time he had used her name, a promising sign. Kylen held out the sliver of mortar she’d pried from the walls of Finistron.

  ‘Two of us, working at night, can prepare the wall, digging out hand-holds all the way up. The following night, we go over.’

  ‘This is your idea?’ Zastra looked at her in shock. ‘You can’t be serious?’

  Alboraz’s lips twitched.

  ‘You have clearly never seen a Sendoran scaling the cliffs of the Windy Mountains. It may work. But what about the migaradon?’

  ‘Leave that to me.’ Zastra reached to take her crossbow from Borez. He flinched back and in a flash, the points of two broadswords were pressed against her neck. Zastra rolled her eyes.

  ‘Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to take on a cave full of Sendorans by myself?’

  Her words had no effect. Such a suggestion probably seemed perfectly reasonable to her current company. It took a nod from Alboraz for the swords to be withdrawn. Zastra retrieved her crossbow, making sure to keep the shaft pointed at the floor. She removed one of the bolts and gave it to Alboraz.

  ‘This bolt is tipped with migaradon scales. It can pierce their hides, as long as you are close enough.’

  Alboraz fingered the sharpened tip suspiciously.

  ‘You can really kill them?’

  ‘Zastra has already done so, more than once,’ Kylen said. ‘I have seen it myself.’

  ‘Suppose I take your word. Taking those who are fit enough to travel, we are only three hundred. Ixendred must have a thousand troops at Finistron, including Kyrgs. Say what you like about those savages, each of them is worth three Golmeirans, as well—’

  Alboraz broke off and sucked in his breath with a grimace. Moreen rushed forward and lifted his shirt. A wide bandage was wrapped around his lower torso. Half of it was covered in a wet bloodstain, ringed with yellow pus.

  ‘That’s enough for today,’ Moreen said firmly. Zastra and Kylen were taken to another cave where two mats of woven rushes lay on the ground. Zastra had never felt so weak. That night, her dreams were filled with dark passages, migaradons and burning castles.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Brutila’s accommodation had all the charm of a tomb. A single stone block had been removed to allow in a little natural light, but even this opening was covered with a sturdy metal grille. Not even a mouse could get in, let alone a person. Finistron was built for strength, with no concern for the comfort of its inhabitants. Brutila couldn’t decide whether the architecture or Ixendred’s behaviour made her feel more of a prisoner. The master at arms had been polite enough, but had refused to supply her with an armed escort to return Thorlberd’s nephew to Golmer Castle. Worse still, Findar had been given into the care of one of Ixendred’s mindweavers, a young man called Lodrak. Brutila had taken the first possible opportunity to attempt to bend Lodrak to her will but her weakened powers had proved insufficient. It was extremely annoying. The pimply youth wasn’t even that strong. Before her cintara addiction she would have had him writhing in agony. The lousy sneak had reported her to Ixendred and now she was restricted to her quarters, unless her presence was specifically requested. Ixendred himself was one of those non-mindweavers with a natural resistance to the power, so it was no use trying to control him. I see the game you play, Ixendred. You want to take all the credit. You will regret making me your enemy.

  There was a hesitant knock at the door.

  ‘Master Brutila? Master at Arms Ixendred requests your presence at supper.’

  Master Brutila. Brutila’s lip curled. Ixendred might play the gentleman but she detected ruthless ambition underneath his polite veneer. She was escorted to the dining hall, another austere box, although on a larger scale than her chamber. Three parallel tables ran the length of the hall, empty except for three figures seated at the far end of the central table. Ixendred was flanked by Lodrak on one side and Thorlberd’s nephew on the other. There were four places set for supper and Ixendred invited her to take the empty seat. Findar examined her as she sat down. Brutila was used to being stared at, but the boy didn’t appear scared or disgusted. His gaze was disturbingly direct. A small crease appeared between his eyebrows as if she was a problem he was trying to solve. With his fair hair and delicate features, he reminded her of Anara. If you prove as soft as your mother, you’ll be no trouble. Unlike your sister. As she thought of Zastra, something must have shown in her face, for the boy flinched and looked away.

  ‘Master Brutila, I hope your accommodations are to your liking,’ Ixendred began politely.

  ‘I’ve seen cosier dungeons.’

  Ixendred poured her a glass of wine.

  ‘I asked you here because Lord Findar has some questions he wishes to ask.’

  ‘Please just call me Fin,’ the boy said. ‘Lord Findar sounds like somebody else.’

  ‘Whatever makes you comfortable, Fin.’

  Be friendly. Lie if you must. Our Grand Marl wishes the boy to—

  Brutila kicked out beneath the table and felt her boot connect satisfyingly with shinbone. Lodrak emitted a distressed yelp. Serve him right for such impertinence. How dare he intrude on her mind? Stay out of my head, you pimply flekk. I know well enough what Thorlberd wants.

  ‘Something the matter, Lodrak?’ Ixendred enquired mildly. The young mindweaver flushed red.

  ‘S-sorry. Bit of cramp,’ he stammered, rubbing his shin.

  ‘I want to know what happened…’ Findar began hesitantly, ‘…when I was
a baby. If what Dalbric told me is true. And then…’ he paused and gathered himself, ‘…I wish to know what you plan to do with me.’

  Brutila tried her best to look friendly. Not something she’d had much practice at. At least the boy didn’t flinch this time.

  ‘Well, Fin. The first thing you need to know is that you cannot believe anything that Zastra or Dalbric told you. They’ve been lying to you all your life.’

  ‘I won’t let you say anything against them. They always took care of me.’

  ‘Of course, they wanted to keep you alive. I’m sure young Dalbric meant well. He probably fell for all Zastra’s lies.’ Brutila recalled the young man with the large ears. Weak-headed fool.

  ‘Lies? What do you mean?’

  ‘You were never in danger from your uncle. In fact, Thorlberd was trying to save you.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  Brutila pondered for a moment. Stories are more convincing with a few truths thrown in.

  ‘Your father, I’m sorry to say, was a weak man. He was not a mindweaver and neither is his beloved daughter Zastra. They were jealous of Thorlberd and Lord Rastran, and fearful of those with mindweaving powers. Leodra never trusted Thorlberd, though his brother offered help willingly. When he found out that you and your twin sister were bluebloods, Leodra become obsessed with the idea that you would grow up and overthrow him. He tried to smother you both in your cot, despicable coward that he was, but Thorlberd interrupted him. They fought and Leodra was killed. Alas, Thorlberd was too late to save your poor sister, Kastara. When Zastra found out what had happened, she stole you away from all who loved you. No doubt she wanted to twist you to her own ends.’

  ’I don’t believe it,’ Fin protested, but there was enough uncertainty in his response to give Brutila encouragement. She turned to Ixendred.

  ‘I can prove it. Do you have the necessary ingredients for the test?’

  Lodrak dug into his pocket and brought forward a vial of clear liquid.

  ‘I always carry some with me,’ he said. Ixendred placed a hand on Findar’s shoulder. ‘Fin, we’ll need some of your blood. It may hurt a little, but it is just a little cut. Will you allow it? To show you we speak the truth.’

  Fin held out his hand and did not flinch as Lodrak nicked his skin with his knife. When his blood dropped into the tube, it turned dark blue almost before Lodrak had shaken it. The young mindweaver looked at Fin in astonishment.

  ‘I’ve never seen it turn so quickly.’

  ‘You see, boy,’ said Brutila. ‘I was telling you the truth.’

  ‘So…I’m a blueblood. But Zastra – why did she look after me all those years if she didn’t love me?’

  ‘No doubt she had some use for you. Remember that she abandoned you to attack one of your uncle’s schools. It was full of innocent bluebloods like you and she slaughtered them all.’

  Fin reached inside the pocket of his trousers.

  ‘What have you got there, lad?’

  He pulled out a small fragment of metal. ‘It was my sister’s firering. It’s all I have left of her.’

  Brutila looked it over scornfully.

  ‘Not much of a gift for anyone, let alone the son of a Grand Marl. Dear boy, we are offering you a second chance. Grand Marl Thorlberd will welcome you into his family. You will have all the money and jewels you could ever want. Come, let me throw away that dirty scrap.’

  She reached to take it, but Findar’s fingers closed protectively around the tiny piece of firering. The brat is tougher than he looks. He may take some persuading.

  ‘I sent the migaradon to relay a message to Grand Marl Thorlberd,’ said Ixendred, addressing Findar. ‘He has just landed at Seacastle, on his return from the Far Isles. He was delighted with our news. We shall set out for Golmer Castle in a few days, just as soon as I have made appropriate arrangements for your protection. How does that sound?’

  Brutila kept her features calm, but inside she was fuming. Double crossing flekk. I knew you would try something like this. So, Thorlberd’s back in Golmeira is he? I shall make sure he knows who really found his precious nephew.

  ‘Do I have a choice?’ Findar asked.

  They were interrupted by the arrival of the first course. Ixendred helped Findar to a serving of buttered trout.

  ‘Dear boy, no one will force you to do anything you don’t want to. But you will be much safer at Golmer Castle. Surely you wish to be re-united with your family?’

  ‘Yes,’ Fin said softly. ‘That would be nice.’

  Brutila raised her glass to him.

  ‘Welcome to your new life, Lord Findar.’

  Chapter Twenty-two

  They chose their spot carefully. Only two guards patrolled Finistron’s rear wall, and the ground behind was hidden in the deep shadows cast by the fortress against the light of the full moons. Zastra inched across the cleared land, the moonshadow providing her only cover. She reached the edge of the gravel track. A shaded lantern moved slowly back and forth, illuminating a shadowy figure in uniform. Further along the wall, another circle of orange light receded. The other guard. Solid muscle brushed against her arm. Ithgol. Right where he should be. Further down the path, two figures emerged from the shadows and the orange glow was extinguished. That was their cue. Zastra charged towards the nearby guard. It was a man, she saw as she closed. His mouth opened in surprise and she aimed a scissor kick at his stomach. It landed solidly. The man doubled forward, winded. Ithgol grabbed his neck in a choke hold and dragged him beyond the circle of light. Zastra pulled a handful of rags from her pocket and stuffed them into their prisoner’s mouth. Ithgol held him tight as Zastra gagged and bound him. They carried their prize back to the forest, where they were joined by Kylen and Borez, breathing heavily as they dumped another body next to theirs.

  ‘Any trouble?’ Zastra asked in a low whisper.

  ‘No, Borez knocked her clean out.’

  A twig cracked loudly just a few paces away.

  ‘Hanra, please be careful!’ Polina’s angry whisper broke the silence.

  ‘I’m trying but I can’t see a thing.’ Hanra’s injured tones were surprisingly loud in the night air.

  ‘Hush!’ Zastra pleaded. ‘Kylen, Borez, time to get to work. Meet you back at camp.’

  Footsteps padded back towards the fortress. Zastra didn’t envy Kylen and Borez their task of digging out handholds all the way up that sheer wall in the darkness, but the Sendorans seemed confident of success. She felt for the warm flesh of her prisoner.

  ‘Ithgol and I will take this fellow. Hanra, Dalbric and Pol, bring the woman.’

  It proved difficult to move quickly in the dark forest with their heavy burdens. They constantly bumped up against tree trunks and low branches. Hanra demanded a rest every few hundred paces, and at one point they took a wrong turn and had to double back. It was well past dawn before they reached the caves. Hanra flung herself to the ground.

  ‘My arms are ready to drop off.’

  Kylen and Borez returned a few moments later and stared at them in disbelief.

  ‘You’ve only just got back?’ Kylen exclaimed. ‘What have you been playing at?’

  Zastra put a finger to her lips and pointed at the prone figures of the guards. She pulled Kylen away to a safe distance where they couldn’t be overheard.

  ‘How did it go?’

  Kylen grinned.

  ‘I got close enough to give one of the Golmeiran guards at the top of the wall a crack on her head.’

  ‘You didn’t!’

  ‘Relax. I wouldn’t put our plans at risk for such a small pleasure.’

  ‘Unusually restrained of you.’

  ‘We just got away before the relief guards came. There was a stir when they realised their comrades had vanished. Time to start the next part of the plan?’

  Zastra shook her head. ‘Not yet. Let’s leave our prisoners to stew for a bit. I’m starving. Let’s rustle up something to eat.’

  She and Kylen spent the mor
ning fishing for river trout, returning to the cave around noon with a full bag. Their prisoners were sitting up, still bound and gagged and under Ithgol’s watchful guard. Kylen took the fish and disappeared into the network of caves. Zastra removed the gag from the woman prisoner and offered her a flask of water. The woman jerked her head away, although Zastra knew she must be thirsty.

  ‘What do you want with us?’ the woman asked defiantly.

  ‘Tell us where the boy is being held.’

  ‘What boy?’

  Zastra replaced the stopper on her flask. Of course, she already knew where Findar was being held, but her prisoners didn’t know that.

  ‘My Kyrg friend is very eager for you to co-operate and he doesn’t like to be disappointed.’ Ithgol crunched his knuckles together. The woman blanched, but said nothing.

  Good, Zastra thought. This one has spirit.

  ‘How about you?’ She turned to the other prisoner and tore out his gag. He shook as he gulped water from the flask. Zastra let him have only a mouthful before taking it away.

  ‘If you want more, tell me what I want to know.’

  ‘Keep your peace, Dorlin,’ the woman snapped, but Dorlin eyed the flask greedily.

  ‘No harm in telling you the lad’s in the central keep. You won’t get past the front gate.’ Zastra allowed him another swallow of water. Hanra came running out of one of the rear caves.

  ‘Lady Zastra, you need to come—’

  ‘I said no names!’ Zastra snapped. Hanra lowered her voice, but she still spoke loud enough for the prisoners to hear everything.

  ‘But there’s a messenger come from Lord Justyn. He won’t arrive with the reinforcements until the day after tomorrow.’

  Zastra dragged Hanra away.

  ‘Fool. Do you want to reveal all our secrets?’ When they were safely out of earshot of the prisoners, Hanra began to giggle.

  ‘Did I do all right?’

  ‘You did fine,’ Zastra remarked drily. ‘You have a great talent for lying. That trout smells delicious.’

  Kylen and Polina each held a frying pan, just removed from the fire. Succulent pink flesh burst through cracks in the blackened skin of the fish. Zastra scooped a large one out of the pan, juggling it in her hands and blowing furiously to cool it down.