There was stunned silence.
It was such a small step, but it would be too much for some. She could already hear Egrayne’s voice in her head, warning her that the brotherhood leaders would see this as a weakness. Maybe some of them would, but for others it would bring hope.
Imoshen squeezed Tobazim’s hands and sealed the amended covenant vow with a slight gift-infusion.
As Tobazim returned to the brotherhoods, Ardonyx caught her eye and jerked his head towards All-father Hueryx. If she gave this concession to Tobazim’s brotherhood, she had to give it to the other brotherhood that was bound by the same gift-enforced vow to her sisterhood.
She turned towards Hueryx to find he was already stepping forward to meet her in the centre of the sunlit clearing. Meanwhile, the sisterhood leaders whispered. Imoshen had not discussed this with them. They would not be happy. She could have handled this better, but Dretsun had forced the all-council meeting before she’d had time to prepare the sisterhood leaders. Sometimes she wished she had the gift to imbue words with power. Perhaps it was just as well she didn’t. The temptation to use that power would be overwhelming.
Hueryx held her gaze, anger gleaming in his wine-dark eyes.
He accepted her outstretched hand, but before she could speak, he whispered, ‘Why is it that Imoshen the All-father-killer, executioner of covenant breakers, offers this amendment to the covenant?’
‘I had no choice the day Rohaayel was executed,’ she said softly. ‘You’re smart. You figure it out.’
His eyes widened and she amended the vow, sealing it with a slight gift-infusion.
Before Hueryx could step back, Reoden spoke up.
‘Wait.’ The healer came to Imoshen’s side and took the all-father’s hand. ‘Your brotherhood is also vow-bound to my sisterhood. You should be very proud of your son, Ronnyn. He discovered the ruins, which have so delighted our historians.’ And she also amended the vow.
Imoshen watched as Reoden offered the same concession to Paragian, whose brotherhood was also vow-bound to hers. Then the healer beckoned Tobazim. Imoshen realised he had formed a bond with Reoden’s sisterhood by taking in Tamaron’s survivors. Reoden’s sisters were already rearing some of All-father Tamaron’s T’En children. Once there had been more brotherhoods, but they’d been absorbed, and now a single brotherhood might be gift-bound to three sisterhoods.
As Reoden took Tobazim’s hand, Imoshen realised the healer was about to discover Tobazim’s covenant vow had been a sham, but Reoden did not seek to imprint her power on top of Imoshen’s gift-enforced vow. She merely repeated the promise.
All-mothers Melisarone and Ceriane made the same amendment with their vow-bound all-fathers. Athazi was last to step forward. She was furious, but had to present a united front before the brotherhoods.
As the sisterhood leaders made these promises to their vow-bound brotherhoods, Imoshen read the two groups. This had eased the brotherhoods’ anger. She had done the right thing, despite Athazi’s misgivings.
Across the clearing, she met Ardonyx’s eyes. He sent her a single nod, and it warmed her heart. He had once accused her of being a coward because she saw the flaws in their society and did not seek to change things. She had countered that she was only one person. How could she effect change?
Today, she had taken the first step towards a more enlightened T’Enatuath, such as she and Ardonyx had discussed back when they were both taking lessons in the Sagorese language. Then it had seemed an impossible dream, but now that she was causare and now that Ardonyx advised All-father Tobazim, they had a chance to change things for the better.
The brotherhoods and sisterhoods parted, returning to their sides of the all-council.
‘There should be trysting to celebrate,’ Saskeyne declared, his eager gift barely under control. The rest of the brotherhood leaders were quick to agree.
Imoshen laughed.
‘The causare has taken a vow of celibacy until the T’Enatuath are safely at sea,’ Egrayne said. ‘You would do well to honour her vow with one of your own.’
They didn’t like that idea at all.
Imoshen hid her smile. ‘I fear we will all be too busy for celebrating. We sail into exile the day after tomorrow.’
‘But now we must hand over the causare’s choice-son to his brotherhood,’ Egrayne announced.
As Imoshen turned to see Iraayel, her heart swelled with a mixture of pride and sorrow. He stood barefoot and naked under his knee-length robe. He would leave the sisterhood as he came into this world.
Normally, the brotherhoods did not see this part of the ceremony. It was performed inside the sisterhood quarter, and the lad was handed over at his brotherhood gate.
Imoshen led Iraayel into the centre of the clearing. Egrayne had already plaited his hair in one long braid and tied a leather strip around it at the base of his neck.
Tears blurred Imoshen’s vision, as she took his plait in her hand. She had been braiding his hair since it was first long enough. Now it was thick and strong in her hand, filled with the residue of his gift.
She drew her ceremonial dagger and began to cut through the plait. This was symbolic of cutting the link that all T’En mothers shared with their children.
After what they’d been through, Imoshen’s link with Iraayel was far deeper than normal. She should have been severing this gift link as she cut his hair. But she didn’t. Let Iraayel sever it if he wanted to. His plait came away neatly in her hand.
His hair settled around his shoulders as he turned to face her.
Lifting the severed braid to show the sisterhood, Imoshen said the words to complete the ritual. ‘My choice-son, Iraayel, is dead. This is all I have to remember him by.’
But she would never close her heart against him. She felt this so strongly, her gift tried to break free of her control.
The sisterhood leaders moaned in sympathy as they responded to the surging of her gift.
She hung Iraayel’s plait over her arm and lifted her hands to his neck to slide the robe off his shoulders.
Then she stepped away.
There he stood, naked – perfect. Definitely an adult male, for all that he would not attain his full growth until he was about twenty-five.
Tobazim stepped forward. ‘Iraayel, formerly choice-son of Imoshen, you proved your worth when we rescued the Mieren queen. You will be an asset to our brotherhood. Come, give your brotherhood vow.’
Iraayel knelt, graceful as always.
Imoshen felt a hand on her arm, and Egrayne drew her back to stand with her sisterhood. As Iraayel gave the brotherhood oath, she could hear nothing for the roaring in her ears.
Tobazim raised his left hand, pressed the tip of the sixth finger to Iraayel’s forehead and created the link which could be used to save him if he ever got into trouble on the higher plane. It could also be used to breach his defences and drain him of his gift, if his all-father ever had cause to discipline him.
As Iraayel rose, Tobazim pulled the robe off his own shoulders and settled it around Iraayel’s. Then Tobazim’s hand-of-force drew her choice-son to stand behind his new brotherhood leaders.
Imoshen had to clear her throat before she could speak. ‘The day after tomorrow, we set sail. Prepare your ships to cross the Secluded Sea.’ Now she could legitimately meet Ardonyx’s eyes and call on him. ‘The renowned explorer, Captain Ardonyx, will explain what we face.’
The leaders of the T’Enatuath had all led such insular lives, some had never left the Celestial City. A few had journeyed to outlying estates, but none had sailed as far as the Lagoons of Perpetual Summer like Ardonyx.
‘We sail into winter,’ he said. ‘Although it is called the Secluded Sea, the winter storms can be vicious. Captains will only cross it at this time of year if there is great gain for them. Most would prefer to hug the coast of the mainland before crossing the southern channel to Ivernia. But this would leave us open to attack by any of the Mieren kingdoms still loyal to Chalcedonia.’ He cast Dret
sun a look. ‘This is why we rescued Queen Jaraile. If we can’t trade with the kingdoms of the Secluded Sea, we can’t prosper. But until she retakes the throne and opens the ports to us, we can’t take the safest course. We’ll follow the mainland coast south, as far as mid-Navarone, before striking out south-south-west for Ivernia.’
‘Wouldn’t it be faster to sail through the islands?’ All-father Saskeyne asked. ‘I was looking at a map, and that’s certainly the shortest path.’
‘True, but those islands are a maze of perilous channels, home to sea-vermin, ruthless pirates who prey on the shipping lanes. There are passages through the maze that would shorten the voyage to Ivernia, but the fleet would sail in single file as we followed the deep channel, leaving us vulnerable.’
‘Surely they would not attack ships packed with warriors?’ Saskeyne said.
‘You think they wouldn’t risk their lives for ships packed with all the wealth of the Wyrds?’ Ardonyx countered. ‘Everyone knows we’ve been exiled. Down south they believe the palaces of the Celestial City are sheathed in gold. They know we must sail by winter’s cusp, and they know we sail south because there is nothing north of Chalcedonia but the ice-floes. Our fleet is enough to tempt even the sell-sword ships the great merchant houses hire to protect their trading vessels from sea-vermin.’
At this, there was muttering from the T’Enatuath leaders.
‘Saskeyne is right. Our ships are packed with warriors, but the children, old folks and nursing mothers outnumber the warriors four to one.’
‘Then we must make the journey as quickly as possible,’ Paragian said and others agreed.
‘We will, but we can only go at the pace of the smallest ships, so the greatest ships will reduce their sails.’
‘How long will it take?’ All-father Abeliode asked. Like Melisarone, he sailed a small three-masted vessel.
‘That depends on the winds. It can take twelve days, it can take twenty. Some ships never reach Ivernia.’
‘And the Sagoras have offered us sanctuary?’ Paragian asked Imoshen.
‘Yes.’ She lied; she had no other choice. Either her message hadn’t reached them, or their reply hadn’t reached her. Either way, her people had no choice but to set sail.
After that the all-council ended and the brotherhood leaders returned to their ships. Imoshen chose to escort them off the island. All-father Egrutz hung back. He was accompanied by his two seconds, his devotee and the younger T’En warrior he was training to replace him. It was an unusual arrangement for a brotherhood. When he sent the others down to the rowboat and turned to Imoshen, she was a little surprised. When he led her away from her two seconds, she was even more surprised.
He clasped one of her hands in both his. Though she was somewhat taken aback, she did not object to this familiarity.
‘I am old and no longer ambitious, so I can say what I like. I knew and respected your father. Rohaayel’s mind was sharp as a blade. It is rare for one of us to father a female child, but he had you and was inspired to break the covenant. He had a vision for the T’Enatuath, to unite the brotherhoods –’
‘He was ambitious and he used me.’ But he had loved her in the end, and she had never stopped loving him.
‘He did use you. The irony of it is that you have fulfilled his vision and more, Imoshen. He thought only of the brotherhoods. With the amendment to the covenant today, you have taken the first step to truly unite the T’Enatuath. As long as we bicker amongst ourselves we are weak.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘I’ve lived long enough to see these problems coming, but I couldn’t see how to avert them, or how to save our people.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘You have done Rohaayel proud, T’Imoshen.’
Releasing her hand, he shuffled over to his devotee, who helped him make the climb down to his rowboat.
A great weight lifted from Imoshen, and tears stung her eyes.
Egrayne came over to join her. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes.’ Imoshen wiped her cheeks and turned to face her voice-of-reason.
‘What did he want?’
‘To tell me that I’ve done well.’
Egrayne snorted softly. ‘By the brotherhoods, perhaps.’
‘And he called me T’Imoshen.’
‘When no other brotherhood leader could hear him do it,’ Egrayne muttered. ‘But it’s a start. Now you’d better come back and smoothe some ruffled feathers. Athazi is not pleased.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
JARAILE LIFTED HER arm so the servant could adjust the strap securing her chestplate. She felt excited and slightly nauseous, but then she always felt sick in the first stages of pregnancy. Every day she checked for blood, hoping to lose the child Eskarnor had forced on her, but other than the nausea, she was doing well. Every time she thought of Eskarnor’s smug smile, she wanted to throttle him.
The servant made one last adjustment so the plate wouldn’t chafe, then Jaraile dismissed him, picked up her helmet and turned to face her commanders.
They were so different: her dour kinsman, Baron Kerminzto; Baron Aingeru who had placed his faith in her for a better future for his family; and Baron Ramanol, who was fast becoming her least favourite person after Eskarnor and Charald.
Kerminzto and Ramanol would lead the two arms of the pincer movement. Aingeru would take the centre to lure Eskarnor’s men into the trap.
The three barons went down on one knee. The rest of her army were already lined up in the chill predawn. Last night, she had looked out across the fields towards the walls of Port Mirror-on-Sea and her heart had sunk at the sight of so many campfires. Then she’d remembered Sorne saying that battle was not like counting tithes.
Last night, when she rode through the camp, her followers had seemed determined, but they were armed with old, stolen or makeshift weapons and apart from the king’s guard and the barons, the mounted riders were an odd assortment of farmers and labourers mounted on borrowed horses. Not really what you could describe as elite cavalry. They did, however, have excellent archers. Chalcedonia was renowned for the quality of her archers.
Jaraile’s tent had been pitched on a small rise overlooking the fields and the port. She hadn’t seen Sorne since he rode off two nights ago, and wished he was here now.
‘You will do me proud this day,’ she told the barons.
Kerminzto came to his feet. ‘You’ll stay on your horse, Jaraile. You carry your helmet, so the men can see your face, and ride up and down on the crest of this hill in front of the royal banner.’
She’d been up half the night sewing the makeshift banner. She knew what she had to do.
‘I’ll be in the centre of our line, with my men,’ Aingeru said. ‘Young Baron Dekornz will play a Chalcedonian martial air to inspire our troops and irritate Eskarnor. He’ll want to capture you. I know his style of leadership. He’ll lead an assault on you, and that’s when my men will retreat and draw him in.’
Kerminzto nodded to Ramanol. ‘And we’ll close around his army.’
‘You can rely on us, my queen,’ Ramanol said.
She nodded and the three of them strode out of the tent. No, Ramanol hesitated. She prayed for patience.
‘Don’t worry, Queen Jaraile, this will all be over soon. Once you’re in the palace with your servants, life will return to normal,’ he assured her, then left.
The thought horrified her. Other than seeing her son, she had no reason to want to return to the palace. She’d never felt more alive since Eskarnor kidnapped her. No, since King Charald came back from besieging the Wyrd city.
Since Sorne came back.
The thought shocked her.
‘Jaraile?’
She turned to see him slip out of the private chamber of her tent. ‘Where’s your armour?’
‘This is what your average man-at-arms wears: leather vest, breeches and boots. I do have a helmet.’ He set it on the table, then adjusted her cloak on her shoulders, checking that the sprig of winter-bells was secure. ‘If this succeeds, you shoul
d add those flowers to your coat of arms.’
A surprised laugh escaped her.
Sorne sobered. ‘If it fails, be assured Eskarnor will not find your son. I told High Priest Faryx to change his name and rear him as a priest. So if our army loses, you ride and don’t look back. First chance you get, ditch the armour and change into the farmer’s garments I’ve hidden in your saddlebags.’
She was touched, but… ‘You don’t think I should raise another army and regain the throne for Cedon?’
He sighed. ‘If you lose this battle, Eskarnor will execute every high-ranking man who supported you. You’d have to go south to raise an army, and make promises you might not want to keep. For what? King Charald has spent his life defending his crown, constant battles and political manouvering. There is so much more to life.’
‘But your plan will work?’
‘Once the battle starts, plans have a way of going awry, so keep your wits about you.’
SORNE HAD SPENT eight years travelling with King Charald on the Secluded Sea campaign, and a year quelling the rebels after the first Maygharian revolt, but he had never once been in a shield-wall.
You stood your ground, you hacked, you slashed and, if you were lucky, you survived.
He stood in the front ranks with Aingeru’s men. Behind him, the baron rode and up and down with his banner-men and honour guard. The warriors in the front ranks were hand-picked by Aingeru, men who could keep their heads and obey orders under pressure.
Sorne stamped his feet and waited, shoulder to shoulder with the True-men his life depended on. Down here, the battlefield looked vast. They’d spread themselves thin. It was that or be surrounded.
Down here in the centre of Queen Jaraile’s army, it was impossible to tell where everyone was. Sorne was used to standing on a hill, watching the ebb and flow, while Charald sent messengers with directions to send in the reserves or retreat. Often a whole battle rested on the charge of the cavalry, or the appearance of reserves when the enemy’s troops wavered. Charald had been a master at timing these things. Sorne missed him now: the father who had disowned him, then made use of him as a servant.
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