Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set

by Marianne Ratcliffe

  ‘I’d already packed my bags, suspecting she may come for me. When I saw them, I ran out the back. I stayed with a friend in one of the other villages until I was sure they had stopped looking. I didn’t dare return to the bakery. My friend Vy lets me stay in her spare room. She’s a cleaner at the castle and brings me news of Joril when she can. What of little Findar? Is he well?’

  ‘He’s safe, a long way from here. It’s our sister I’m worried about. Has she tried to escape?’

  ‘Quite the opposite, I’m afraid. She is strong willed, that girl, which may become a virtue when she grows up, but in a child it can be quite exasperating. Even if you can reach her, you may struggle to persuade her to leave. She was always sure she was meant for better things. Sometimes I was tempted to tell her the truth, just to see her expression.’

  Zastra drained her mug. ‘She may be happy now, but if they start to treat her like the poor souls we found on Murthen Island, she will be desperate to leave.’

  Bodel took the empty mugs and rinsed them out. ‘With the ascension celebrations in a few days, Vy tells me they are looking for extra help. I was thinking of putting myself forward. Can you pretend to be a cleaner?’

  ‘I had to do a lot worse when I was part of Captain Dastrin’s crew. But Kastara is my problem, not yours. What if that Jallal woman recognises you?’

  ‘No one looks at servants,’ Bodel remarked. ‘Besides, your sister may be a difficult little thing, but I’m truly fond of her. Be here before dawn tomorrow. I’ll bring suitable clothes.’

  Zastra returned to where she had left the others. There was no sign of Ithgol. Polina was looking very cross. She was barefoot and her feet were red and swollen.

  ‘Poisonweed?’ Zastra asked. Kylen nodded. She soaked a cloth in water from her bottle and offered it to the mindweaver.

  ‘This’ll soothe it.’

  Polina wrapped the cloth round her ankles, sighing with pleasure at the cool relief.

  ‘Where’s Ithgol?’ Zastra asked.

  ‘Gone to watch the castle gates. I gave him your telescope. He’s looking for any weakness.’

  ‘No need.’ Zastra explained Bodel’s plan.

  ‘I’ll go with you,’ Kylen offered, but Zastra shook her head.

  ‘No. Trying to get three of us past the guards will be too risky and your hair dye won’t stand close examination. Don’t worry, I have a job for you. If I do get out safely, we’ll have to leave quickly. For that we’ll need horses. Six, if possible.’

  ‘Six? You don’t want much, do you?’

  ‘I have every confidence in your horse-thieving skills,’ Zastra remarked.

  Kylen began counting her fingers.

  ‘Let’s see, Mata will be waiting for us in five days, just before Moonscrescent. Even on horseback, I reckon it’s three days to get back to where we left the boat. If you aren’t back by tomorrow night…’

  ‘Then you must leave without me,’ Zastra said firmly. ‘If I’ve not returned by then, I will have failed. No point you all getting caught on some foolish rescue attempt.’

  Kylen looked about to argue, but they were interrupted by the return of Ithgol. He looked glum.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Kylen asked. ‘You look like someone stole your scythals.’

  ‘Brutila,’ Ithgol said shortly. Zastra stared at him in horror.

  ‘What, here?’

  Ithgol nodded. ‘She rode through the gates. You should have killed her when you had the chance.’

  ‘That changes things,’ Kylen said. ‘Brutila will recognise you, even in disguise.’

  ‘Let me take Zastra’s place with the cleaners,’ Polina suggested. ‘No one in the castle knows me and being a mindweaver will give me a better chance of getting to your sister. If necessary, I can even encourage her to leave.’

  ‘I can’t see you going anywhere with those feet,’ Zastra remarked.

  ‘Kylen assures me the swelling will settle down overnight. I’ll be fine by morning.’

  ‘Polina makes a good point,’ Kylen said and even Ithgol grunted his agreement. Zastra held up her hands in surrender.

  ‘Fine, I admit that Pol has skills that I don’t. Let’s all get some rest. Kylen, you and Ithgol take the first watch and I’ll take the second. Pol will need a full night’s rest if she’s to be prepared for tomorrow.’

  Zastra rolled herself in her travel blanket and closed her eyes, thinking about tomorrow. Could she really allow Polina to go into Golmer Castle instead of her? The hardest step, Dobery had called it. But he wasn’t the one sending a friend into danger. She knew how fond he was of Polina – would he really be able to make such a choice? She doubted it. No, she had left Kastara behind all those years ago, and it was up to her to make things right. She just hoped the others would understand.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Joril woke early. The ascension celebrations were the day after tomorrow and the previous afternoon Jallal had informed the unprovens that Lord Rastran himself would be taking their lesson that morning. She didn’t know which to be more excited about. The celebrations would include fire-fountains, which she was especially keen to see, having missed out on those at the victory parade. There was to be music and dancing and all sorts of entertainments. But to have Lord Rastran himself teaching them about mindweaving, that was even better. Across the room, Berynder was still sleeping. Hardly surprising as it was barely light. The morning gong was still a long way off. On any other day, Joril would have turned over and tried to catch some more sleep, but today she sprang out of bed. She had much to do. She needed to wash her hair and comb it into some kind of order. She had already laid out her best dress, but another brush wouldn’t hurt, and her shoes could do with a polish. Lord Rastran took such care of his own appearance, which made Joril believe he might appreciate the same in others.

  Even after her extensive preparations, she was first into the classroom. She took her seat, hoping that Lord Rastran would also be early. He would compliment her on her punctuality and perhaps give her some special tips as a reward. Alas, it was not to be. Everyone in her class had arrived and taken their seats well before Rastran made his entrance. To Joril’s surprise, he brought Myka with him. The Southlander looked as if he’d been dragged along against his will. Perhaps he had; Joril recalled how Rastran had forced him to take the cintara. She rose and bowed along with her classmates. Lord Rastran said nothing. Yldred made the mistake of being the first to sit down.

  ‘Did I give you permission to sit?’ Rastran snapped. Yldred’s ears flushed as red as pani-fruit and he shot back to his feet. Rastran waited for a moment before he spoke again.

  ‘Good morning, unproven.’ He shoved Myka into an empty seat at the front of the class. ‘Take your place, flekk. You don’t deserve to be with the trainees. You may all sit.’

  Myka slumped into his old chair. The air was hushed with expectation. Rastran held up a small leather pouch.

  ‘Who can guess what I have here?’ Joril flung her hand into the air.

  ‘Yes – you girl.’ His flat tone made it clear that he didn’t remember her. Joril’s confidence was momentarily knocked.

  ‘Um, cintara bark?’ she offered.

  ‘Quite right, er…?’

  ‘Joril, my lord.’ She felt her cheeks flush.

  ‘Do I know you? You look familiar.’

  Behind her, Berynder sniggered. Joril had told everyone about meeting Rastran in the triangle. Berynder, of course, had accused Joril of lying and Rastran’s behaviour seemed to prove her right.

  ‘We met in the corridor the other day, Lord Rastran,’ she said stoutly. ‘I was with Myka. We took cintara bark.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know that.’ Rastran waved his hand impatiently. ‘No, it’s something else. You remind me of somebody. I just can’t think who.’

  Berynder raised her hand.

  ‘If you please, Lord Rastran, she used to work at the village bakery. Perhaps you knew her mother, the mad baker?’

  There were more than
a few titters. Joril glared at Berynder, who returned her look with a triumphant grin.

  ‘I would hardly be acquainted with a village baker,’ Rastran snarled. The smile disappeared from Berynder’s face faster than a jumping flea.

  ‘Joril is correct,’ Rastran continued. ‘This is cintara bark. A useful tool for a mindweaver, but one we must use carefully. Do I have a volunteer?’

  Joril’s hand shot up once more, but Rastran shook his head. ‘Not you. You cannot partake again until the moons have crossed twice. This is an important rule. Ignore it, and you will become addicted. Heed it and you will be quite safe.’

  ‘Tell that to those poor fools who’ve gone mad,’ Myka muttered.

  Everyone in the class gasped at Myka’s daring. Rastran strode forward and clapped Myka sharply around the back of his head.

  ‘That is the last time you question me, Southlander. You…’ He snapped his fingers at Joril. ‘Go fetch Florian. You know who I mean?’

  Joril nodded dumbly.

  ‘Well. Don’t just sit there. Quickly now.’

  Joril shot out of the room and along the corridor to the trainees’ classroom. Lord Rastran had chosen her for this important errand. She would show him she was worthy of such trust. In response to her insistent knocking, the door was flung open and the gaunt, unfriendly features of Highmaster Strinverl looked down at her.

  ‘How dare you interrupt my lesson…’ he began, but Joril refused to be intimidated. She had Rastran’s authority, after all.

  ‘Lord Rastran has requested Florian,’ she announced. The highmaster’s expression changed from annoyance to something else entirely. If Joril had to guess, she would say the highmaster was scared. He called Florian over and he couldn’t usher the curly-haired youth through the door fast enough. Florian’s look of confused surprise turned into a grin.

  ‘Hello, Flour—’ he began.

  ‘My name is Joril.’ She turned on her heel and strode off down the corridor, forcing him to hurry to keep up. Back in their own classroom, Rastran was holding up a knife with an ornate metal hilt, worked into a fine representation of a gecko and encrusted with emeralds. He beckoned them in.

  ‘Young Florian had the courage to take cintara bark when he was an unproven on Murthen Island. Fortunately, I sent him and his brother away before my traitorous cousin Zastra murdered all their classmates. Behold the talent the cintara unlocked.’ He opened his palm. Joril knew what was coming, but even so, she gasped as the knife leapt from Rastran’s hand, danced in the air and then swooped towards Myka’s chest, its point wobbling playfully in front of his nose. Rastran laughed as the knife point inched ever closer to Myka.

  ‘So, who will volunteer to be like Florian?’

  This time, everyone’s hand shot up, excepting only Myka and Yldred. Rastran walked up and down the classroom. Berynder was bobbing up and down in her eagerness to get picked. Joril hoped she herself had never been so obviously desperate for a teacher’s attention. Rastran halted beside Yldred. Joril had to remind herself they were brothers. Although they shared their dark colouring, Yldred’s features were squashed and flat compared with the defined profile of his older brother.

  ‘Scared, Yldred? Father will be displeased. But you are used to that, aren’t you?’

  Yldred stared at his desk. Rastran continued down the line until he was next to Myka.

  ‘You already gave me some,’ Myka muttered. ‘Just a few days ago, remember?’

  Rastran tossed the bag in the air and caught it again.

  ‘True. But you are such a strange case. Perhaps special measures are called for.’

  Myka’s head was jerked backwards as if by an invisible noose. Slowly, his mouth began to open, despite every muscle in his face twitching in opposition. Rastran held the cintara bark over his open mouth.

  ‘Wait.’ Everyone stared in astonishment as Yldred rose to his feet. This was indeed a day of surprises.

  ‘I volunteer.’

  Rastran raised an eyebrow. ‘Well done, brother mine. Spoken like a Grand Marl’s son. Catch!’ He made as if to toss the pouch towards Yldred, laughing as his brother plucked at empty air. The cintara bark remained in Rastran’s hand.

  ‘But wait. There is an important lesson to be taught here. When the son of a Grand Marl tells you to do something, you obey. Without question.’

  He turned back to Myka, who was still frozen in position and tipped the contents of the pouch into Myka’s open mouth. Myka choked and spluttered and tried to get to his feet, but he over-balanced, catching his head against the side of his desk as he went down. Rastran laughed and most of the class joined in. Joril rushed over to her friend.

  ‘Myka, are you all right?’

  ‘My head hurts,’ Myka groaned. ‘Dizzy…’ A thin trickle of blood ran down his forehead. Joril looked around for something to staunch it with, and suddenly Yldred was beside her, tugging a red kerchief from his pocket. As Joril held it to Myka’s wound, there was a high-pitched scream, followed by another. Chairs scraped back and desks were sent tumbling as the screams became louder. Joril wondered what was causing such a commotion, but all she could see was a little black mouse scuttling along the stone floor. Yldred began to chase after it on his knees.

  ‘Come here, little fella,’ he pleaded. ‘No need to be scared.’

  That’s what all this fuss is about? Joril couldn’t believe how ridiculous everyone was being. She had shooed many a mouse out of the bakery. Surely everyone knew they were harmless? With a sudden jerk, the mouse was lifted into the air and spun onto its back. It gave a squeak of alarm.

  ‘Rastran. Please. Leave it alone,’ pleaded Yldred.

  ‘Not another of your pets?’ Rastran tutted disapprovingly. ‘I won’t abide disruptions while I’m teaching.’

  He narrowed his eyes and the mouse flew into his open palm.

  ‘I, too, have the power of mindmoving. But my power is over bones, not metal. See how useful it is.’

  He cocked his head to one side and the mouse juddered and was still. He flung the creature towards his brother. It landed by Yldred’s feet. The mouse was trembling. It was still alive but its legs were splayed at odd angles and its tail was kinked in two places. Yldred choked back tears as he knelt and gathered it up. Rastran gave a deep sigh of disgust.

  ‘I’ve had enough for today. Think on what you have learned. Next time, perhaps you will be more enthusiastic.’

  He strode out of the room and Joril found, to her surprise, that she was relieved to see him go. Their classmates returned their chairs and desks to their allotted places and shuffled out, leaving Joril alone with Yldred and Myka. Joril looked at the piteous creature cupped in Yldred’s hands.

  ‘Broken its legs.’ Yldred sniffled. ‘He’s done it before.’ He stroked the mouse. ‘I’m sorry, fella. I should never have kept you.’ He turned to the others. ‘It’s just nice to have someone…something that likes me for me, you know. Not because of who my father is.’

  Myka leaned over him and reached out. Yldred pulled the mouse away.

  ‘Leave him alone!’

  ‘I won’t hurt him.’ Myka frowned. ‘It’s strange. I can feel its pain. Let me hold him.’

  He held out his palm, and Yldred gave him the trembling animal. Myka closed his eyes and shuddered. Yldred let out an exclamation as the mouse leapt onto the floor and scurried away before disappearing into a small hole in the base of the wall.

  ‘Oh, Myka, you clever thing. You healed it!’ Joril exclaimed. ‘Even its tail was straight again.’

  Myka looked as surprised as Joril. ‘I guess I did. I could feel where all its tiny little bones were snapped. I wanted to make it better, and somehow, it just happened.’

  ‘What a talent, Myka,’ Joril gasped. ‘Just wait until—’

  ‘No!’ He gripped her arm. ‘Don’t tell anyone.’

  Yldred nodded sombrely. ‘If that is your wish. Thank you, Myka.’ He departed, leaving them alone. Myka looked at Joril and waited.

  ‘
Fine,’ she said. ‘Whatever you want. But I don’t understand why you would want to keep such a wonderful thing hidden.’

  ‘I don’t trust them. I can tell Rastran was lying about his cousin killing trainees at Murthen Island. Why would he lie about that?’

  He didn’t let her leave until she had repeated her promise not to tell. Although she still thought that such a wonderful gift should be celebrated, she understood Myka’s wish to avoid any attention from Lord Rastran. She was beginning to suspect Thorlberd’s eldest son might not be as pleasant on the inside as he was on the outside.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Kylen opened Zastra’s telescope and trained it on the line of people waiting outside the castle gates. All were poorly dressed, in stained clothes that were patched or riddled with holes. Kylen focused on one young woman in particular. Her walk and stance appeared familiar. When she turned to address the woman next to her, Kylen was certain she was right.

  ‘That’s Zastra,’ she said grimly. She cursed herself. If I can recognise her from this far away, then Brutila will surely pick her out. She should have been suspicious when Zastra had offered to take the last watch before dawn. They had woken to find her gone. At first, they thought she may have gone hunting, but when they saw she had left her crossbow behind, they realised they had been duped. Zastra had never intended to let Polina go inside the castle.

  ‘She’s talking to someone. A woman with dark hair. I don’t recognise her.’

  ‘Let me look.’ Polina took hold of the telescope and adjusted the focus. When she had found Zastra and her companion, she shook her head.

  ‘No, I don’t know her either.’

  ‘It must be Bodel.’ Kylen watched as the castle gates opened and Zastra and the dark-haired woman entered with the others. ‘Well, we can’t follow. They must have permission slips – the guards have just waved them through.’

  ‘What do we do now?’ Polina asked. Kylen sank back on her haunches.

  ‘Zastra has made her choice. She’s on her own now. Let’s just hope she doesn’t run into Brutila, because there’s nothing we can do to help if anything goes wrong.’