by Emma Miles
The captain’s mouth flopped open.
The other guard stepped forward, his eyes wide. ‘Master, there have been two other parties. Both were all killed. I believe they were from the Seats of Caergard and Darkhall.’
‘Thank you.’ Osun gave the man a polite nod, his voice now icy calm. ‘Stay here a moment.’
The guard bowed, glancing at his grovelling captain who was now on his feet.
‘Don’t just stand there, go and carry out my commands!’ Osun flicked his fingers at the captain as though dismissing a slave. The captain didn’t need telling twice.
Osun turned back to the other man. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Embry, master.’
‘Embry, do you think you can find thirty guards who can actually do their job?’
‘Yes, master.’
Osun snorted. ‘Glad to hear it. Find them and arrange a rotation to guard the western tower. If anyone gets past them and I find myself having to do any killing, I’ll hold you responsible.’
‘Understood, master.’
Osun nodded, looking him up and down. ‘You may carry out my command.’
The man bowed and hurried away. Osun saw the servant who’d arranged their refreshments was hanging back and seeming to want his attention.
‘What is it?’ Osun asked, his voice polite and even.
The servant gave a low bow. ‘Master, your rooms are ready.’
‘Very good. Find someone to carry my brother up and then lead the way.’
***
Osun sat with his head in his hands, he leaned back and rubbed at his aching temples and groaned. The palace’s account books were a mess. After Dryn’s death, several hands had penned sporadic entries, none of which seemed to be accurate or make any sense. Messages had piled up and spilled off the desk and onto the floor despite Cassien and Jagna’s best efforts to help. His eyes stung, he’d barely slept in the five days they’d held their tentative occupation of Arkoom Palace, and not because of the paperwork. He jumped as a door banged somewhere down the hall, he strained his ears to listen but he could hear no footsteps. His eyes fell on the door handle and he held his breath. Nothing. He breathed out, forcing his spine to relax.
Twice the palace guards had turned away Chemmen sorcerers who had come at Feren’s summons. One group of three from Farport and a larger group from Gysed. Thankfully they’d heeded Osun’s instructions to go back and see to the running of their own cities and districts. It seemed hearing the last of the once great Dunhams had been defeated was enough to give them pause and prevent any thoughts of their own attempts at the Overlord’s Seat. Osun made sure they were informed he had no intent of taking the Seat himself but would wait until things had settled to call a genuine vote.
If it bought him some time, it would be something.
He let out a cry of alarm as Azrael squeezed out of the candle on his desk.
‘Ssorry, Ossun.’ Azrael darted about in a big loop. ‘Come quick, though, I think Jorrun is waking!’
Osun leapt up, knocking back his chair and almost running for the door. His brother had shown no sign of consciousness since they’d taken him up to his tower room days ago. For a while he’d lain completely still, his temperature high and his breathing shallow. Then two days had followed of violent tossing where Jorrun had murmured or yelled out unintelligible words that had terrified Osun. He’d been tempted to send a message to Kesta, to see if she could help, but he didn’t want to risk leaving the women of Navere vulnerable. Knowing they were still safe, that back in Navere things were different, was what kept him going.
He burst into Jorrun’s room, it was dark but for a single lantern hung up on the wall. The body on the bed was completely still, making a long shape beneath the blankets. Osun’s heart fell, his pulse still fast. Azrael must have been mistaken.
‘Are you sure, Azra?’
The fire-spirit flew in over his shoulder and went to hover over the bed, illuminating Jorrun’s still face and giving it life.
‘I … I wasss,’ Azrael buzzed.
Slowly, Jorrun’s eyes opened, seeming almost a golden colour in the light of Azrael’s flame. He didn’t blink.
Something made Osun freeze, held his mouth firmly closed.
‘Jorrun?’ Azrael sounded anxious.
Jorrun smiled and sat up slowly, his eyes not leaving the fire-spirit.
‘Jorrun?’ Azrael backed away toward the lantern, making a keening sound that made Osun catch his breath. His eyes widened, going from the fire-spirit to his brother. Jorrun grinned, showing his teeth, and Azrael squealed, darting into the lantern and vanishing.
Osun found his feet rooted to the spot as his brother turned to look at him. Jorrun laughed and Osun felt as though his bones wanted to crawl out of his body.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Catya; Kingdom of Elden
The two Borrowmen warriors shipped their oars and tied their rowing boat to Northold’s small wharf. Catya jumped out, looking across the grass to the familiar row of small houses and beyond them the trees that partially hid the Hold’s walls. She smiled at the sight, feeling her heart beat just a little faster. She hadn’t been born here, but it was her home, every tree, every rock, every stone as familiar as her own hand. Her gaze travelled upward, the Raven Tower itself appeared dark and empty and Catya wrapped her arms about her body, feeling suddenly cold.
‘Should we wait here?’ Temerran asked.
Catya shook her head. ‘No, come on.’
She led them along the path, she could hear Kurghan sawing in his large boatshed, but no one came out to see them. As soon as they neared the walls though, a shout of alarm went up. Catya felt her apprehension build, but she held her head high and straightened her back, keeping her stride swift, but not hurried. She waved up at the defensive wall, not waiting to see if she was recognised, but continuing around to the main road from the north-west and the gates to Northold.
‘Halt!’ One of the warriors stepped forward to bar their way. There were four Eldemen, dressed in warm woollen cloaks over their leather armour. Catya recognised Rosa’s touch and smiled to herself.
‘You know me.’ Catya placed her hands on her hips. ‘I’m come home to see Rosa and Merkis Tantony.’
‘Aye, I know who you are, Catya.’ The warrior indicated over her shoulder with his head. ‘But those men don’t ’alf look like Borrowmen to me.’
‘It’s because they are.’ Catya frowned at him, shifting her feet impatiently. ‘Just get the Merkis, will you?’
The man glanced back at his comrades, none of whom seemed eager to take the decision off his shoulders.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Catya clenched her fists. ‘This is really important! Do we look like we’re here to conquer Northold?’
The warrior opened his mouth, but before he could think of what to say, the gates opened up and Merkis Tantony stepped out followed by two of his men. Without thinking, Catya darted forward and launched herself at Tantony to hug him, making him stagger back a step. She had grown since she’d been away, her head came up almost to his shoulder now.
Merkis Tantony gingerly patted her back before peeling her arms away. She looked up to see him regarding Temerran with his wise grey eyes.
‘Who is this?’ he asked.
‘Tantony, this is Temerran, Bard of the Borrows and friend of Dia Icante.’
‘I see.’ Tantony looked from Catya to the red-headed Borrowman. ‘And is it just the three of you?’ He looked past them toward the road.
‘It is,’ Temerran gave a slight bow. ‘My ship, the Undine, is on its way to the Fulmers. I have reason to need to stay.’
‘Have you?’ Tantony’s bushy eyebrows lowered over his eyes. ‘Well you had better come in and explain yourselves.’
The other warriors begrudgingly gave way and Catya skipped forward to walk at Tantony’s side as he made his way through the homes of the outer circle and waved a hand to command that they be allowed through the inner gate. Tantony’s li
mp seemed more pronounced than usual and Catya felt a twinge of sadness.
She found herself holding her breath as she looked around her former home. It seemed somehow smaller. She smiled when she saw how much the herb and vegetable beds were flourishing and that the construction of the storage barn was well under way. Her feet faltered when she saw a familiar figure kneeling on the grass, weeding with a small trowel. She was taken aback by how much her heart ached at the sight of the older woman.
‘Rosa!’ Catya tore across the grass, giving Rosa barely enough time to get to her feet. Rosa felt somehow softer than Catya remembered as they collided, and the scent of her lavender soap brought tears streaming from her eyes. She lowered her head to hide her face, forgetting she now tied her hair back in a neat plait, like Heara. Rosa lifted her skirt and used the material to dab at Catya’s face as though she were a much younger child and not a young warrior. Catya was surprised to find she didn’t mind.
‘Catya, oh I’m so pleased to see you!’ Rosa exclaimed breathlessly. ‘What brings you here, are you with Kesta?’ She looked around at the others.
Catya shook her head. ‘We’re about to explain to Tantony, you’d better hear it too.’
Rosa nodded, narrowing her eyes. ‘Who’s that handsome fellow you’re with?’
Catya found herself blushing a little, which annoyed her. ‘He’s much too old to be handsome.’
Rosa snorted. ‘Is he indeed?’
Catya bit her bottom lip and glanced up at Rosa, worried she’d offended her, Rosa was at least ten years older than Temerran. Rosa was smiling though, so Catya relaxed.
‘Your study?’ Rosa suggested to Tantony.
‘I think so,’ he replied.
‘I’ll arrange refreshments.’ Rosa lifted the hem of her long skirt and hurried ahead of them into the keep.
Tantony turned to Temerran. ‘Would your men like to wait in the great hall?’
Rather than be offended, the Bard smiled at Tantony, his green eyes sparkling with humour. ‘I’m sure they’d be delighted to.’ He turned and nodded to his men, who found themselves seats near to the door.
‘This way.’ Tantony led them up the tower steps to his study. Catya found herself longing to go to the Ivy Tower and take a look at her old room. She wondered if it were indeed still hers, or if it had been given to someone else.
Tantony sat behind his desk, pulling at his greying beard as he looked Temerran up and down. ‘Sit, please.’
Temerran did so and Catya pushed the door closed before pulling out a seat to sit beside the Borrowman. They sat in uncomfortable silence, Tantony frowning at Temerran with his shoulders tensed, his face softening every time he glanced toward Catya. The Borrowman Bard in contrast sat back against his chair with a relaxed smile on his face.
Catya broke the silence. ‘Have you heard anything from Kesta and Jorrun?’
Tantony cleared his throat. ‘Not for a while, not since the King’s ship returned from Chem. You?’
‘The same.’ Catya sagged a little in her chair.
There was a soft knock and all of them sat up as Rosa came in, balancing a tray on which were four mugs of blended-herb tea and a few oatcakes. Temerran immediately stood to help her which made Tantony scowl.
‘I’ll get it,’ he barked, knocking the table with his leg as he hurried around to take the tray.
‘Thank you,’ Rosa said breathlessly as she sat down beside Tantony. ‘So, what’s all this about?’
Catya looked at Temerran and he nodded for her to go ahead. Catya explained first everything that had happened in Taurmaline before having to backtrack and start her tale again from when Temerran had arrived at the Fulmers. Rosa watched her with wide eyes, but Tantony became more and more restless, shifting in his chair and scratching at his beard.
As soon as Catya finished, Rosa turned to Tantony. ‘What can we do?’
Tantony continued to study Temerran a while longer before replying. ‘The one person who could solve this is miles away in Chem. I can try to get a message to Jorrun. I imagine, for the King’s sake, he would return, but it would take time.’ He sat back in his chair, turning his mug around on the table with one hand. ‘I’ll send some men by boat to Navere. It’s a while since I’ve been to Taurmaline, I had no idea things were so bad there. You really think the King is in danger, Borrowman?’
Temerran nodded. ‘The Queen also. My most immediate fear is for the Icante though. I’m not sure what I can do to help, but …’ He shrugged. ‘I couldn’t just leave and do nothing. It was the Icante’s suggestion that I come to you.’
‘I have no real influence over the King.’ Tantony sighed. ‘But keep your head down and be discreet here and you can stay.’ He turned to Rosa. ‘We’ll have to think about this.’
She nodded, playing with her fingers in her lap. ‘There is the Raven Tower.’
‘What do you mean?’
She drew in a breath. ‘Jorrun’s library. We might find something there about dream magic that might aid us.’
‘Just as I suggested!’ Catya sat bolt upright in her chair.
‘Just us, though, Catya.’ Rosa raised a finger. ‘No strangers in The Tower, no offense, Temerran.’
He smiled and waved a hand at her. Catya grinned, not long ago it had been she who’d been custodian of The Tower and had tried to deny Dia entry. ‘Shall we start now?’
Rosa stood and reached out a hand toward Catya. ‘Let’s get to it. I’m sure Tantony can sort out finding somewhere for our guests to stay.’
Tantony sighed silently, but nodded.
‘So, how have you been?’ Rosa gave Catya’s hand a squeeze before letting it go so they could make their way down the stairs single file.
‘The Fulmers are amazing!’ Catya took the uneven stairs as nimbly as a rat. ‘I feel so free there – safe. No one laughs at me being a warrior although there’s this one stupid boy who keeps challenging me.’
‘Really.’
Catya glanced around to see Rosa was smiling.
‘He’s an idiot. But Dia explained that just because he’s stronger, it doesn’t mean I can’t learn to be a better warrior, that women should rely on their heads not their muscles. Anyway, Heara is tough. But I’m learning so much.’
When they reached the great hall Catya went straight to the two Borrowmen and placed a hand on the shoulder of one. ‘You’re staying. Tem will be down shortly.’
The Borrowman looked up at her and smiled. ‘Thanks, Cat.’
She looked around for Rosa and saw her friend had halted and was looking from the Borrowman to her with a startled expression on her face. Catya frowned but continued outside. When they were alone again, she said to Rosa, ‘You don’t need to worry about the Borrowmen. Temerran really is on our side now.’
‘Yes, but who is on the other side,’ Rosa replied.
Catya felt an icy chill in her stomach. Rosa was right. They’d made peace with the Borrows thanks to Dia and Temerran. Kesta and Jorrun had ensured that Chem was no longer a threat. So, who exactly was their enemy?
‘I mean … there has to be someone?’ She looked up at Rosa. ‘Unless …’
‘Unless the King is just ill.’ Rosa frowned. She pushed open the door to the Raven Tower. A single lantern stood lit on the table and Rosa picked up a taper to light the others that hung along the length of the wall. They entered the first library and Rosa put her lantern down. With no window in the room it was still hard to see. Rosa put her hands on her hips and looked around.
‘Well, let’s get started.’
***
They spent seven days searching through the libraries, making notes, and slipping lengths of string in books to mark the pages. It was Rosa who discovered the most useful book while going up to feed the ravens. She noticed a few books on Jorrun’s table, buried beneath maps and scrolls. One of them contained chapters on dream-walking. With Temerran being the only one of them that had any knowledge of magic, Tantony reluctantly agreed to bring him into their research. Th
ey sat together in Tantony’s study, Temerran leaning over the book with a frown on his face, his chin resting on his hand.
‘It seems to imply distance isn’t a barrier.’
Catya sat up straighter as Temerran finally spoke, his eyes still firmly on the page.
‘Providing there is some blood link. Otherwise the dream-walker must be within a few yards of the dreamer.’
‘Jorrun can’t help the King from Chem then.’ Tantony sagged in his chair.
‘It also means they can’t accuse Jorrun,’ Rosa said meaningfully.
Temerran winced. ‘This book wouldn’t prevent a determined witch hunt. Do you know what close blood relatives the King has?’ He looked from Rosa to Tantony.
‘No one particularly close.’ Tantoney frowned. ‘His father had a cousin who I believe has two daughters.’
‘Daughters.’ Temerran sat back in his chair to regard Tantony. ‘That might be worth looking into. A dream-walker, according to your research, would need to have Elden blood.’
‘But it could be someone closer to the King with no blood connection,’ Catya pointed out. ‘It could be anyone at court. Is there any way to know if someone is using magic? I know Jorrun used to feel it if someone did, as does Dia.’
‘I don’t have that ability.’ Temerran pressed his lips together into a thin line. ‘Dia might have learned something. Larissa left some notes, but nothing of a particular enemy.’
Catya tried to go back over everything she’d witnessed in the castle at Taurmaline. There had been a tension about the place that she’d attributed to Larissa’s death, but now she wondered.
‘Temerran.’ She tilted her head to look at the Bard. ‘You said there was a darkness following the Queen. Could it be magic you sensed? Could the Queen be a witch?’
He shook his head slowly and opened his mouth to reply, but he hesitated. ‘My magic is in words, in tone, inflection, music. I can hear in someone’s voice when something’s wrong. With the Queen though, it was something more instinctive. A feeling of dread I couldn’t put my finger on, a stain on her aura. It was as though … as though she willingly embraced darkness, dark words and dark thoughts.’