Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set

by Marianne Ratcliffe

  ‘I can always rely on you for the brutal truth,’ she remarked.

  ‘You should see her toes,’ Kastara added. ‘The Kyrg healer said she was lucky she hadn’t lost half of them.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Zastra snapped, although when she walked it still felt as if her boots were filled with shards of glass. With the rush to get through the pass, there had been no time to recover from her ordeal on the Warrior Mountain. She had barely had time for a quick wash before they were on the march. For the first few days, she was unable to keep up, and had been forced to submit to the indignity of being dragged along on a sled.

  ‘What have you been up to this time?’ Kylen asked with a shake of her head.

  ‘Short version; I have a lovely new tattoo,’ Zastra said. ‘I’ll tell you the rest later.’

  Kylen took them to the spacious mansion she had commandeered as her headquarters. Servants brought in bowls of steaming halsa paste, shavings of dried meat sprinkled on top to give it flavour. There was only water to wash it down.

  ‘Make the most of it – it’s the last we have,’ Kylen said. ‘You arrived just in time. My scouts tell me Ixendred will be here tomorrow.’ She reached out to Zastra, her eyes glowing. ‘You did it, Zastra. You delivered on your promise. We will finally free Sendor.’

  Zastra nodded silently and the twins just stared at their bowls.

  ‘What’s wrong? You all look as miserable as a Kyrg who’s lost his scythals.’

  Zastra told her what had happened to Anara.

  ‘It’s all my fault,’ said Kastara, flinging down her spoon. ‘I should have protected her.’

  ‘It’s no one’s fault but Rastran’s,’ said Zastra. ‘You were protecting the settlement. You couldn’t have known what Fester and Florian were after.’

  ‘You would have stopped them, Zastra. You would have thought of something.’

  ‘I’ve hardly got a perfect record when it comes to protecting those I love. I let Brutila capture Findar, remember. And I left you behind for all those years.’

  ‘So, you do love me?’ Kastara asked in a small voice. ‘It’s been hard to tell, sometimes.’

  Zastra went behind her sister’s chair and placed her hands on her shoulders. Then she leaned over and kissed the top of Kastara’s head.

  ‘You’re clever and talented, and don’t let anything stand in your way. And you’re my sister. Of course I love you.’

  ‘I’m also disobedient and tactless,’ said Kastara, with a sigh.

  ‘If lack of tact was a problem, I’d hardly be friends with Kylen, would I?’ Zastra leant over Kastara from behind so their cheeks pressed together. ‘I’m sorry I’ve so been distant. It’s just… so many people I’ve loved have ended up dead. I hope you never have to experience such hurt. What happened at Uden’s Teeth, losing Dobery and the others, it almost broke me, and I can’t afford to be broken. It seemed safer not to allow myself to feel.’

  ‘That’s why you were so odd with our mother?’

  Zastra bowed her head.

  ‘Seeing her stirred so many emotions inside me, so many memories. I couldn’t face it. I just hope she’ll understand.’

  ‘We’ll get her back,’ Kylen said. ‘My word on it.’

  Their eyes met. Zastra knew the value of that promise. Her heart swelled with something deeper than gratitude.

  ‘One thing at a time,’ she said. ‘First, we take back your country.’

  Kylen’s scouts had been correct. The next day, Ixendred arrived with his army. More than twenty thousand strong, it spread out before Kricklend in a series of perfect squares. The centre was made up of Golmeirans and mindweavers, all wearing black. Flanking the Golmeirans, divided equally on each side, were thousands of Kyrginite mercenaries. The organisation was impressive. Jelgar and Kylen had arrayed their forces in a narrow line in front of the town walls. Zastra looked down on them from above the gates. Kastara and Findar were down there somewhere, with Jelgar and his guthans. They had precise instructions. She ordered Ithgol to raise a purple flag crossed with white. The sign of parlay. Ixendred raised a matching flag, signalling he accepted. Ancient tradition specified that no attack would be launched during parlay as well as guaranteeing the safety of any envoys.

  The Golmeiran master at arms had positioned himself on a rocky outcrop above the eastern flank of the two armies. An excellent vantage point, Zastra noted, as she and Kylen rode up on fellgryffs. Once again, she was forced into reluctant admiration.

  ‘Have you come to surrender?’ Ixendred asked as they dismounted. Despite his long march north, his uniform was immaculate.

  ‘I was about to ask you the same,’ Zastra returned.

  ‘You are outnumbered,’ Ixendred waved his arm towards the two armies. It was true. Ixendred’s was almost twice the size. Each grid held aloft Thorlberd’s green gecko pennant.

  ‘Interesting that you still carry Thorlberd’s insignia,’ Zastra remarked.

  ‘We’ve been too busy to be sewing.’

  ‘Ah, but we haven’t,’ said Kylen. ‘Look again.’

  The Kyrginite grids flanking the Golmeiran army shivered and the gecko standards plunged to the ground. Each raised a new pennant carrying the eagle insignia of Zastra’s house. The Kyrgs turned inward to face the Golmeirans, who were now completely outflanked. Ixendred went pale.

  ‘How did you do that?’ he spluttered.

  ‘We informed the Kyrgs of the true nature of Thorlberd’s deal,’ said Zastra. ‘That his alliance was a sham, forced upon them by mindweavers’ tricks. Kyrginite obedience is like their scythals. Double edged.’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘You and your officers will surrender to me, as will your mindweavers. You will be taken under guard to Finistron. Once we have taken back Golmeira, we can talk about amnesty. Your soldiers will be given a choice. Join us, or give up their arms and return home.’

  ‘They will never agree to such terms.’

  ‘Are you really so certain of the loyalty of soldiers conscripted against their will?’

  Ixendred hesitated.

  ‘How do I know you won’t slaughter them as soon as they lay down arms?’ He looked at Kylen. ‘The Sendorans will be eager for revenge.’

  ‘Such concern for life is surprising from a man who serves Grand Marl Rastran,’ Kylen remarked. Ixendred’s jaw muscles clenched. He has no love for Rastran, thought Zastra.

  ‘I am a soldier. I do my duty.’

  ‘Then do it now,’ urged Zastra. ‘I have as good a claim to your allegiance as anyone else.’

  ‘My sworn duty is to my grand marl.’

  ‘Your duty is to Golmeira and to the soldiers under your command. Do you think either are well served with Rastran as grand marl?’

  Ixendred’s shoulders dropped. He turned towards his generals. After only a small amount of discussion, they agreed to Zastra’s terms. Sendor was theirs without a drop of blood being spilt.

  As the prisoners departed for Finistron, escorted by pure-blood Sendorans, a large wagon train appeared from the south, led by Morvain and Drazan. They had found many in Southland who had opposed Thorlberd’s tyranny and refused to be ruled by his son. The wagons carried grain and hay. Morvain swelled with pride as Zastra thanked him. Later that day Gildarn, Nerika and Myka joined them, bringing Marl Orwin’s welcome promise of resupply. With a cry of delight Kastara rushed towards Myka and gave him a hug. He seemed embarrassed but not displeased by her welcome.

  Nerika informed them of Gildarn’s treachery. Myka pleaded for mercy, explaining how Strinverl had tricked Gildarn, but Zastra ordered him placed under guard and sent to join the caravan of prisoners heading for Finistron. He had been responsible for the deaths of Orika and Dobery and many others at Uden’s Teeth. Such treachery could not go unpunished. To Zastra’s surprise, Nerika supported her decision. There was a first time for everything. On that happy omen, Zastra gave the order to break camp. It was time to march on Golmeira.

  Chapter Sixty-seven

&nbs
p; Brutila had so few friends at Golmer Castle that she only found out the grand marl had returned by sneaking a peek into the mind of one of the kitchen hands at breakfast. Rastran had arrived during the night. Brutila was surprised not to have heard anything. Rastran must have eschewed his usual pomp and ceremony. She took a bowl of hot porridge and headed down into the dungeons. The door to Anara’s cell was ajar. Inside was Rastran, flanked by Fester and Florian. The grand marl’s velvet tunic was rumpled and a dark shadow on his chin indicated he hadn’t shaved. Anara looked small and frail as she stood before them. They all turned their heads as Brutila entered.

  ‘Brutila, are you well? I have been concerned,’ said Anara.

  Brutila looked around the damp, cold cell. The water barrel was empty and there was the unmistakable whiff of a full chamber pot. After the strange discomfort she had felt during her last visit, she had stayed away, and it appeared that no one had tended to the prisoner in her absence. Brutila felt a pang of something that she struggled to identify. Could it be guilt? She had forbidden anyone else to provide for Anara. Yet she detected no censure or anger in Anara’s expression.

  ‘You were concerned about me?’ Rastran mistook her surprise for sarcasm.

  ‘Quite right, Brutila,’ he said sardonically. ‘She should be more worried about her own situation.’

  ‘That smells good,’ Fester said, eyeing the steaming porridge.

  ‘It’s not for you,’ said Brutila, handing it to Anara.

  ‘Thank you,’ Anara said quietly. She set the bowl aside, even though Brutila suspected she had not eaten in days. Rastran kicked the bowl away with the side of his boot. It smashed against the wall. Porridge splattered across the stone.

  ‘I am not in the mood for niceties,’ he said. ‘My highmaster has betrayed me and half my marls are disloyal.’ He placed a gloved hand round Anara’s slender neck. She did not flinch.

  ‘You stand there as if you were still a grand marl’s consort, but you are not royalty. Everyone knows you were a commoner before Leodra took you for his wife.’

  Anara stayed impassive as Rastran’s fingers tightened around her throat.

  ‘You hoodwinked my father too, didn’t you? Made a precious fool of him. Only one way to deal with upstarts like you.’ He pressed his thumb against Anara’s windpipe, but then paused theatrically. ‘Perhaps you would like to plead for your life. I might let you live another day if you beg hard enough.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Anara. Brutila coughed.

  ‘Grand marl, your journey must have wearied you. You are not thinking as clearly as usual.’

  Rastran snapped his head round.

  ‘Surely you aren’t suggesting mercy, Brutila? You hate this wretched family as much as I do.’

  ‘My lord, think of the trouble you took to capture her – would you waste it on a momentary pleasure? Anara is only useful as bait. For that, she must be alive.’

  Rastran closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped back and smoothed down his velvet tunic.

  ‘You are right. There is something to be said for pleasure deferred. But I won’t have her looking down her nose like that.’

  He turned to Florian.

  ‘Cut off her hair and put her into rags. Everyone who sees her will know her for the commoner scum she is.’

  Brutila watched as a knife danced through the air, hacking away at Anara’s long hair. Florian may be a master with metal, but he was no hairdresser. When he had finished, Anara looked like a newly fledged hatchling, uneven tufts of hair sticking up next to patches that were almost bald. With so little hair, Anara’s cheekbones stood out in sharp relief. Yet she stood uncomplaining through the whole humiliating process. A servant brought in a coarse smock, frayed at the hems. Fester began to paw at Anara’s clothes.

  ‘I’ll do that,’ Brutila snarled. Fester jumped back as if she’d slapped him. She undressed Anara swiftly and efficiently, screening her modesty as best she could as she helped her pull the thin smock over her head.

  ‘Thank you, Brutila,’ Anara whispered gratefully.

  ‘Much better!’ Rastran said with a cruel grin. ‘You were right, Brutila. Zastra will come right into my trap.’

  He departed, snapping his fingers to the twins, who scurried after him like the trained pups they were. Anara explored her ruined hair with her fingers.

  ‘Next time Rastran displays an urge to kill me, I beg you will not intervene.’

  ‘Don’t you want to live?’

  ‘I would rather die than be the bait that brings Zastra into danger.’ For the first time, Anara’s composure fractured.

  ‘How can you bear it so quietly?’

  ‘The only thing in my power is to deny Rastran the pleasure of seeing he has hurt me. At one time, you would have enjoyed my humiliation, Brutila. But not today, I think.’

  Brutila felt an odd sensation at the back of her eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I enjoyed giving pain. Because if it was happening to someone else, that meant it wasn’t happening to me.’ Could that be true? My cruelty was born not of strength and power, but of cowardice? She turned to leave, but as she reached the door she stopped and looked down at the cracks between the flagstones.

  ‘You have more true nobility in one fingernail than Rastran has in his entire body.’

  Chapter Sixty-eight

  Golmer Castle rose above the landscape, its grey battlements dusted with snow. A curtain of sleet drifted down from a leaden sky as Zastra led her army towards the outer ramparts. Nearly half of Ixendred’s soldiers had chosen to join her, and together with the Sendorans and Kyrgs they made a formidable force. The portcullis was down and the ramparts patrolled by a mixture of Golmeiran soldiers and black ravens. The defenders were spread thinly along the wall. With the Kyrgs gone and the losses suffered at Uden’s Teeth, the castle’s defences were severely depleted.

  Rafadal was waiting for them with a few thousand of his people. Zastra had sent Findar and Kastara to fetch him, riding two migaradons they had seized from Ixendred. Findar’s ability to communicate with animals allowed him to control both creatures. The ko-yamacha had taken over Highcastle Forest, putting up lastic tents in some of the largest elmwoods.

  ‘None of us feel comfortable sleeping on the ground, especially in such cold weather. I hope you do not mind?’

  Zastra clasped his hand. ‘I am grateful that you are here,’ she said. ‘How is Bedrun?’

  ‘Thank you for asking. We had a healthy baby boy, thank the Mother. She sends her love.’

  ‘I am sensible of your sacrifice in being here, at such a time.’

  ‘Ko-yamacha repay our debts,’ Rafadal returned. ‘Besides, she has good company in her mother.’

  ‘Bodel! She found you? After all this time?’

  ‘Indeed. She had tried Southland and the Far Isles before finally thinking of Aliterra. She is a fine woman.’ Zastra thought his smile seemed a little forced.

  ‘But not afraid to give her opinion,’ she offered.

  ‘Yes!’ Rafadal nodded ruefully. ‘I have noticed that.’

  ‘Has there been any movement from the castle? Any sign of Rastran?’

  ‘Only the migaradons. He must have called back all those that remain in Golmeira. We have counted five, working in shifts. They flew out to have a look at us but our vulyx soon chased them away. It is a shame you asked us not to engage. Our youngsters are eager to try out the crossbows you gave us.’

  ‘What’s Rastran waiting for?’ Kylen asked. ‘He must have known we were coming. I would have attacked the ko-yamacha while he had the advantage of numbers. Instead he waits until we are at full strength.’

  ‘He’s waiting for me,’ said Zastra quietly. Somewhere inside those walls, her mother was being held a prisoner. As soon as Ithgol planted Zastra’s standard, the gates to the main castle opened and a horse and rider emerged, carrying a purple flag crossed with white.

  ‘They offer parlay,’ said Kylen.

  ‘Perhaps Rastran
wishes to surrender,’ Jelgar remarked. ‘I have heard of his cowardice.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ Zastra nodded at Ithgol. He raised their own parlay flag. The rider reached the portcullis. Zastra rode forward, flanked by Kylen and Jelgar, with Ithgol, Myka and the twins just behind. She recognised the grey-haired woman, the white scar on her cheek unmistakable.

  ‘Grand Marl Rastran grants you safe passage under parlay,’ said Brutila brusquely. ‘Follow me.’

  ‘Rastran can come out here if he wishes to plead for his life,’ said Kylen. Brutila kept her pale grey eyes fixed on Zastra.

  ‘Unacceptable. If Zastra wishes to see her mother alive, she must come into the castle, alone and unarmed.’

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ Kylen snorted. ‘For all we know, Anara could be dead already.’

  ‘She lives,’ Brutila snapped. Zastra looked at Myka for confirmation.

  ‘She is telling the truth,’ he said.

  ‘My mother showed you great kindness in the Northern Wastes,’ Zastra said bitterly. ‘You repaid her with betrayal.’

  ‘I did not plan what happened.’

  ‘But you did nothing to stop it.’

  Brutila stared at her blankly. ‘We waste words. Do you come, or do you sentence your mother to death?’

  ‘I will come.’

  ‘Zastra, no!’ Kylen protested. ‘It’s a trap, it has to be.’

  ‘Even Rastran would not violate parlay,’ Jelgar said.

  ‘I will come,’ repeated Zastra, ‘but under the tradition of parlay, I have the right to bring two envoys with me.’

  ‘Very well. Choose your companions.’ Brutila made a gesture with her hand. With a harsh grating sound, the portcullis was winched upwards. Zastra’s horse whickered at the noise. She pulled her mount around in a tight circle.

  ‘Kastara and Myka will come with me.’ Kylen and Ithgol began to protest and even Findar looked put out, but Zastra held up her hand.

  ‘Anara’s life depends on what happens now. I need Myka to tell me truth from lies and Kastara is the only one who can protect us if Rastran tries something.’