Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set

by Marianne Ratcliffe

  She saw little of Kylen. Her self-imposed list of duties kept them apart and Kylen, too, was busy, overseeing the funeral rites of the many Sendorans who had fallen. Zastra was grateful. Even catching a glimpse of Kylen had a strange effect on her, one that was in danger of upsetting the fragile balance she struggled to maintain. Each day, it felt like she was walking a tightrope where only a firm concentration on the far end of the rope would keep her from falling. All the while, guilt clogged her spirit like a stomach full of undigested meat.

  Every fallen Golmeiran and Far Islander was given a burning ceremony. Dobery’s was the last. A huge crowd gathered around his pyre to pay their respects. Zastra had spoken the ritual words of farewell so many times that she knew them by heart, but when the time came to speak them over Dobery’s pyre, her throat closed up. Polina stepped forward and spoke the words instead.

  We say farewell to our dear friend as he begins his long journey back to the stars. Let the ashes from his body feed new life, let the warmth of his soul kindle the fires of our affection. Let the knowledge and wisdom of his life be passed down through the generations. He will never be gone as long as we remember him. He will never be lost as long as we offer him space in our hearts.

  To Zastra, the words felt as empty as she did. In the still air, the smoke from the pyre formed a grey column, straight as a chimney. She did not notice the other mourners drifting away to return to their tasks, leaving her alone before the smouldering pile. Images appeared in her mind; Dobery in his formal gold robes, tugging impatiently against the thick fabric, his warm smile as he set aside a book to greet her. She stood until every ember had faded into ash. Only then could she admit that he was truly gone. She felt a touch on her arm.

  ‘Come with me,’ Kylen said softly, leading Zastra to the jetty where a yacht was waiting. Zastra noticed with surprise that it was dark. Where had the daylight gone?

  ‘Get in.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  Kylen gave no answer. She shoved them off and steered away from the lights of the bay and out into the Serene Sea. They were in the last days of summer, and the cloudless evening sky took on the pale, silver-blue hue of an oyster shell. Uden’s Teeth rose as a black shadow behind them. Kylen furled the sail and let the yacht drift.

  ‘Hear that?’ she asked. Zastra listened, but aside from the gentle lapping of the calm waters against the prow, there was nothing. She gave a wry grin, knowing what Kylen meant.

  ‘Yes. Wonderful, isn’t it?’

  ‘No Nerika to find fault with everything you say or do,’ Kylen remarked.

  ‘Or Yelina, demanding a vote on something ridiculous.’

  Kylen gave a small laugh.

  ‘When you were away, she asked for a vote to limit the maximum length for a washing line. Apparently, someone nearly garrotted themselves on one as they walked past a cabin.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I told her we had more important matters to deal with than idiots who don’t look where they’re going.’

  ‘Quite.’ Yet Zastra’s fleeting amusement disappeared when she thought of those who would no longer disturb her peace. Justyn with his practical advice, Dobery’s welcoming smile, and poor, damaged Orika. The silence no longer seemed comforting and instead turned cold and heavy.

  ‘How’s Zax?’ she asked with a shiver. Kylen’s dark outline rose from the stern and moved towards her. She felt something soft and warm drop onto her shoulders. A goat’s wool blanket.

  ‘Surprisingly chipper. He discovered that he can still fight. He lost half an ear in the battle and he’s ridiculously pleased. It does make a good scar.’

  Zastra pulled the soft blanket around herself.

  ‘Why did you bring me out here? Don’t tell me it was just to get away from Yelina and the others.’

  The little boat tilted as Kylen sat down beside her.

  ‘I thought you might need to talk. You don’t have to carry this burden alone, Zastra.’

  ‘Who will help me? You?’ Zastra didn’t hide her bitterness. Beside her, Kylen stiffened.

  ‘I… I don’t expect you to forgive my behaviour. The truth is…’ Kylen took a deep breath. ‘The truth is I needed to prove I wasn’t your puppet.’ She related what had happened with Borez, including the threats he had made to Zastra’s life. ‘I may have overdone things,’ she admitted. ‘I was never very good at acting a part.’

  ‘You were certainly convincing,’ said Zastra. ‘I thought you hated me.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I should have told you.’

  ‘Yes, you should. I felt… very much alone.’

  ‘I don’t blame you for being upset. Yet it meant a lot that you still asked Pitwyn and the others to help me.’

  ‘Our people’s safety was more important than my feelings.’

  ‘That’s exactly why…’ Kylen paused and started again. ‘That’s why people love you. You put others before yourself, every time.’

  Zastra wished she could see Kylen’s expression, but it was too dark. The Sendoran continued in a low, strangled voice. ‘Zastra, unless my people believe I hold their interests above everything else, I will lose them. And that means you would lose them too.’

  Zastra sighed deeply.

  ‘When I was a girl, I used to love reading the Legends of the Warriors. All those glorious tales of battles and heroism, but now I know the truth of it, I wish I could burn every copy. War is brutal.’

  ‘My father used to say hardship and pain were a gift. He said you never truly understood your own character, or those of your friends, until you had been through adversity.’

  ‘Right now, part of me wants to take this boat and leave everything behind. What does that say about my character?’

  ‘Only that you’re human. We both know you won’t run away. But you need to stop burying your pain. If you don’t let it out, it will tear you apart. Trust me, Zastra, I know.’

  Zastra shuddered.

  ‘I deserve to feel pain. Polina was right, Orika wasn’t fit to be placed into battle.’

  ‘Leadership is a series of impossible choices. Very few have the strength to make them. Even fewer have your knack of making the right ones.’

  ‘Every time someone dies because of one of my decisions, I feel as if I lose part of myself.’

  ‘I know what you mean. It’s like the edge of your soul peels away, layer by layer.’

  Zastra was surprised to hear such an admission from Kylen. The Sendoran had never seemed the sort to weigh up the costs of her decisions, or worry about them afterwards.

  ‘What am I turning into, Kylen? A cold-hearted killer? All the men and women on those ships…’

  ‘They were the enemy. You did what needed to be done.’

  ‘You make it sound so simple.’

  ‘We both know it’s not.’

  Kylen took Zastra’s hand in hers. The warmth of the Sendoran’s touch tugged at the emptiness inside.

  ‘I know what strength it takes. And I know that you have such strength within you.’

  ‘I’m tired of losing people I love.’ Zastra admitted. ‘I can’t bear it any more. I need to stop caring if I’m to continue leading this rebellion. It’s just too painful.’

  ‘Don’t ever say that.’ Kylen pulled her close. Zastra felt the lift and fall of her ribcage even through the blanket. ‘Don’t give up on love.’

  Zastra groaned.

  ‘You can let it out, Zastra. There is no shame in grief.’

  ‘I… I can’t.’

  ‘You can.’

  ‘I don’t know how.’

  ‘You just need to give yourself permission.’

  Her words released Zastra’s grief in great choking sobs and she wept until she had no tears left.

  Chapter Forty-six

  They stayed away for two days. The endless beauty of the ocean soothed Zastra’s wounded spirit, assisted by Kylen’s attentive care. But when the sun began to set on the second day, she felt her responsibilities tug at
her. With a sigh, she took the tiller and set a course for Uden’s Teeth.

  ‘Time to become the cold-hearted bitch everyone needs me to be,’ she said. Kylen squeezed her shoulder. Zastra took courage from it, relieved to have her friend back. They had drifted north and their route back to Krysfera took them past Orika’s Island, which was currently being used as a prison. Over three hundred men and women had surrendered to Kylen on the beach, a dozen black ravens among them. They couldn’t risk keeping so many mindweavers near the general population and so Zastra had ordered them to be taken to the island that she insisted be named after Orika. It had a groundwater spring and the prisoners had been provided with a few cords of wood, a fire-ring and some fishing nets. With the mussel beds and blooms of seaweed that surrounded the island, they would not starve, but a more permanent solution was needed. There were other issues too, that she had neglected. Thorlberd was weakened, which provided an opportunity to be exploited. Yet their own losses had been significant. The Sendorans, in particular, had lost many experienced soldiers in their valiant defence of the southern landing site. Kastara and Findar raced onto the jetty to meet them.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Findar asked. ‘We’ve been worried.’

  ‘There were things I needed to tell Zastra,’ Kylen said, ‘without prying eyes and ears around us.’

  ‘We’ve had word from Rafadal,’ Kastara interjected. ‘Thorlberd is dead.’

  They had established a line of communication from the Makhana Forest to the Serene Sea via a relay of vulyx. Visiting Golmeiran healers had brought Rafadal the news.

  Zastra left the beach, heading up the slopes of the large mountain. She needed solitude in which to think. With Rastran in charge, things would get worse and quickly. Yet a direct attack on Golmeira was still suicidal. She examined the problem from every angle she could think of and by the evening, a plan began to form in her mind. Initially, she shrank from it as it meant putting more lives at risk. Yet the more she examined it, the more it seemed like their only chance. When she returned to the cabin, Findar and Kastara were asleep. She roused them. Kastara made no complaint as Zastra handed her a cup of steaming chala. The battle had changed them all, but Kastara more than most.

  ‘Whassmatter?’ her sister asked with a yawn.

  ‘I need you to fetch some people and bring them here. Quietly, and with no fuss. Then I’ll explain.’

  Zastra watched as Polina and Nerika filed into the cabin. Two women she admired and respected. Two women who, right now, could barely bring themselves to speak to her. Nerika wore the dazed appearance of someone who had recently been in a deep sleep while Polina contrived to be as neat and elegant as ever, giving no sign she had even been to bed. Kastara and Findar returned with Kylen, Myka and Ithgol.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Nerika snapped. ‘What’s so important that you demand our presence in the middle of the night?’

  Zastra held up her hand. ‘I apologise for the secrecy, but we all know we have a traitor on Uden’s Teeth.’

  Nerika glared at Myka and Polina. ‘Is this some sort of loyalty test?’

  ‘I have no need for tests. Everyone in this room, I trust absolutely. Even you, Nerika.’

  ‘More fool you,’ Nerika muttered.

  Zastra raised an eyebrow. ‘Please. We may disagree on occasion, but we all work towards a common purpose.’

  ‘Really?’ Nerika snapped. ‘Thorlberd’s dead, so your parents are avenged. You, at least, have got what you want.’

  ‘That’s not true, Nerika. This has never been about revenge for me. What I want is a better deal for the ordinary people of Golmeira and a free Sendor.’ She looked to Findar and Kastara. ‘And I want those I love to have the chance to live without constant fear of death. I am not giving up.’

  ‘No matter how many lives are sacrificed?’ Polina asked. Zastra turned to her.

  ‘I know you’re hurting. We all are. I accept full responsibility for the consequences of my decisions. For what happened to Orika and to Justyn. Every day, I live with the pain of their deaths.’ Literally, in Orika’s case. ‘But if we want their sacrifice to count for something, we must move forward, not look back. I will need your full support. If you can no longer give it, I will step down as leader.’

  ‘Nobody wants you to step down,’ Kylen said. ‘We’ve been through too much and suffered too long to stop now.’

  ‘Kylen’s right,’ Polina said, after a pause. ‘I’ve been hard on you, Zastra. Unfairly so. I forgot what a heavy burden you bear. What do you intend?’

  ‘We need to counterstrike while Rastran’s position is weak. We cannot let him rebuild his fleet and army. Kylen, I need you to take your people and join up with Alboraz in Sendor. Strike out from Finistron and work your way north.’

  Kylen raised an eyebrow. ‘My people have been asking permission to do exactly that for years, yet you’ve always refused. What’s changed?’

  ‘Nothing. Without help, your chances are as non-existent as ever.’

  ‘What aren’t you telling us? Why march north?’

  ‘I hope to persuade the Kyrgs to switch sides.’

  ‘You expect us to ally with those brutes?’

  Ithgol grunted.

  ‘No offence Ithgol but apart from you, every Kyrg I ever met wanted to stick a scythal in my gullet.’

  ‘I cannot think why,’ said Ithgol drily.

  ‘What makes you think they’d agree to help?’ asked Polina.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about what Urbek told us. How Rastran boasted about Jelgar being weak-minded. That makes me wonder if Thorlberd placed a mindlock on him. The Kyrginite culture of obedience would do the rest.’

  ‘No one could be so dishonourable,’ Ithgol protested.

  ‘We’re talking about a man who murdered his own brother to get power. Why else would Kyrgs ally with Thorlberd? They are a proud race. Why would they serve another?’

  There was a moment of silence while everyone pondered the question. Zastra continued.

  ‘While Kylen offers a distraction, I will take Findar and Kastara to the Northern Wastes to remove Jelgar’s mindlock.’

  ‘You’re taking us with you?’ Kastara bounced up and down in excitement.

  ‘I won’t leave you behind again. Besides, you’ve proved you can handle yourselves.’

  Even so, Zastra’s stomach churned at the thought of putting the twins at risk.

  ‘When do we leave?’ Findar asked.

  ‘My people do not like strangers,’ said Ithgol. ‘They are likely to kill you on sight.’

  ‘Which is why I need you to be our guide.’ Ithgol’s face drained of colour. Zastra reached out and clasped his hand.

  ‘I wouldn’t ask if there was any other way. I hope to persuade Jelgar not to kill either of us.’ Ithgol had broken one of the most sacred laws of his people in a failed attempt to save his sister. He was Mordaka; outcast and under sentence of death. ‘We cannot hide what we are about,’ she added, ‘but as we have a traitor among us, let’s spread word that the Sendorans decided on this attack without my agreement. With any luck, Rastran will believe we’re fighting amongst ourselves.’

  ‘Shouldn’t be hard to convince people of that,’ Kylen said with a wry expression.

  ‘While you are away, we should try and stir up support in Golmeira,’ suggested Polina. ‘Rastran’s ascension may challenge the loyalty of the marls. Some may be open to an alternative.’

  ‘That’s an excellent idea, Pol,’ said Zastra. ‘Will you see to it?’

  ‘Leave it with me. I’ll get our mindweavers organised.’

  ‘We should also talk to our prisoners,’ Nerika offered. ‘See if any of them want to change sides now that Grand Marl Rastran is in charge. One of them may know who the traitor is.’

  ‘Thank you Nerika,’ Zastra said gratefully.

  ‘Justyn would want us to finish what we have started,’ Nerika admitted. ‘But I will hold you to your word, Zastra. If we defeat Rastran, the new Golmeira must serve ever
yone, not just the rich.’

  ‘You have my word on it.’ All eyes turned to Kylen.

  ‘Do I have your support?’ Zastra asked.

  ‘Always.’

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Rastran’s mood had vastly improved. Now that he was in charge, he could do whatever he wanted without interference or criticism. He ordered the most extravagant celebrations Golmeira had ever seen as a mark of his ascension. No expense would be spared. He invited sculptors to bid for the honour of creating a statue of himself, mounted on his favourite stallion. It was to be of gilded bronze and placed on a plinth in the centre of the castle courtyard. His people needed to know his face. How else could they fear and worship him? He invited orators to his table, determined that his victories would become as familiar and celebrated as the Legends of the Warriors. As for his enemies, he found the perfect way to demonstrate their complete defeat. The remains of Mendoraz of Sendor and the dead leaders of the Far Isles were brought to Golmer Castle and their bones formed into an elaborate throne. He would have included Leodra’s if it had been possible, but Thorlberd had foolishly given his brother a burning ceremony all those years ago. Thorlberd, however, was represented. Rastran had cut off one of his father’s fingers, stripped it of flesh and had it inserted into the back panel. His new throne was placed in a dais at one end of the great hall and Rastran took great pleasure in seeing the shock on the faces of those brought before him.

  Although such arrangements took up much of Rastran’s time, he did not neglect more strategic matters. The Far Isles were turned into a shipbuilding hub. When one of his generals remarked that the well-known idleness of the Far Islanders could be a problem, Rastran had a solution. At the end of each day, a family member of the worker who achieved least was put to death. It was like training a recalcitrant hunting dog. A firm hand, and his subjects would soon learn obedience.

  He had ordered his father’s body wrapped in dark silk and placed in state on a funeral pyre laid out in the courtyard. Thorlberd’s personal healer, a weak-minded fool, had been persuaded to proclaim death by heart attack. The man even thought he was speaking the truth. Once Rastran had taken his trophy, the body had been burned, destroying any evidence to the contrary.