by Jaine Fenn
‘I have no desire to revisit the events that caused our feud,’ said Maelgyn firmly.
‘Of course, Gwas, it is between you and— It is your business.’ My father has disowned me, thought Ifanna, and though he does not know it, I have disowned him. He is gone from my life forever.
More gently Gwas Maelgyn added, ‘And I think you understand the need to atone for past mistakes.’
‘Aye, Gwas.’ Ifanna sat with her eyes downcast, listening to the distant sounds of the city going about its business.
‘Chilwar?’ said the priest, ‘you were about to explain what happened last night.’
‘It was not my idea, Gwas,’ she started, aware that she sounded like she was making excuses, even if she was telling the truth. ‘Hylwen – the other girl who was judged – convinced me that we should run away, because we were going to be killed.’
‘Why would she believe such a thing, chilwar?’
‘I— I am not sure, Gwas. She said that there were problems . . . in the Tyr, that is.’
To Ifanna’s surprise, the priest laughed, a bitter, barking laugh with very little humour in it. When he did not say anything else, Ifanna continued tremulously, ‘Is this something to do with the lights in the sky, Gwas? Are they portents of evil?’
‘Portents of evil? An interesting question, chilwar. Such matters are being debated even now in the halls of the Tyr.’ He lowered his voice, and she had to bend near to hear him say, ‘They are portents of change, that is for sure. Whether it is change for the better, who can say? Still, we must not gainsay Heaven, must we, even if it appears to be at war with itself.’
‘No Gwas,’ said Ifanna obediently, aware that he was voicing concerns he would surely never dare speak openly in the Tyr. Such blasphemy, from the mouth of a priest, should probably have appalled her, but instead, his trust delighted her.
‘Yet surely it was not the fear of living in such dark times that made you and Hylwen act as you did?’
‘No, Gwas. She said— She told me that the Putain Glan— they do not—’ She was stammering in her embarrassment, and at last she managed, ‘Hylwen claimed to know someone who failed as a Putain Glan, and was killed for it.’
‘Really?’ The priest sounded intrigued. ‘Do you know the woman’s name?’
‘I do not, Gwas.’
‘No matter; I can find out. So, chilwar,’ he continued, ‘you made your impetuous bid for freedom on the strength of a tale told by another witch?’ He did not quite make it sound like an accusation, but she recognised the tone of his voice: slightly incredulous, like when her father exposed what he saw as the foolishness of women.
Ifanna, disappointed to hear him speak so when she was coming to admire him, was quick to defend herself: ‘No, Gwas, Hylwen’s tale reinforced my own doubts!’
He frowned. ‘Your own doubts, chilwar? What doubts are these?’
Ifanna cursed her thoughtless words, but now there was no way out. Priests could sense lies. But she found she wanted him to know, and in a rush she said, ‘The Cariad, Gwas, when she examined me, I felt nothing, and I did not understand – I cannot understand – how that could be if she is truly the Beloved Daughter of Heaven! But if she is not, then her judgment is nothing, and the will of men alone holds sway, and men hate us and will kill us, and so I thought I was to die, and that is why I ran.’ She got to the end of her breath and stopped, not daring to move.
Gwas Maelgyn said slowly, ‘So, Ifanna, you are saying that you felt nothing at all when the Cariad looked into your heart?’
Ifanna breathed out. He was not going to damn her for her blasphemy. ‘Aye, Gwas,’ she said firmly, though a small voice in the back of her mind was telling her she must surely be bringing down Heaven’s wrath upon herself.
He moved to stand up and Ifanna shrank back. He held up a hand, saying, ‘Do not fear, chilwar; you have done right in telling me this. But now I need to go back to the Tyr. I will return, when I can. You must stay here, Ifanna.’
She smiled. ‘Aye, Gwas.’ As though she had anywhere else to go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
According to Jarek’s body-clock, it was the middle of the night, and he was certainly tired enough to sleep, despite the less-than-sumptuous accommodation. But first he checked out the sanitary facilities. If the males were monitoring the room, they’d have an entertaining view of him puzzling how to work the alien toilet, followed by the no doubt highly amusing expression of relief on his face when he finally did.
When he was done, he walked up to the door, curious to see if it still opened. It did, so he turned around and walked straight back to the bed. No point antagonising their hosts for no reason.
He checked his comlog to see if he could review the full proceedings from the Consensus session, but the mass of flashing data hadn’t been saved anywhere that he could access. He wasn’t really surprised.
He lay down on the uncomfortable bed and commed Nual.
‘Jarek? I’m a little busy.’ She sounded stressed.
‘Sorry – I just wanted to check you’re all right.’
‘I am, but I have a visitor. I’ll com you later.’
‘Sure,’ he murmured, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Presumably her ‘ visitor’ was one of the males who had petitioned to see ‘the beautiful enemy’ in the flesh. He felt a pang of concern, then quashed it; Nual could look after herself – and even if she couldn’t, it wasn’t like he could do much to help. Given he was pretty much surplus to requirements right now, he might as well get some rest.
He’d just lain down when the door opened – they really weren’t big on privacy around here! – and a silver avatar came in.
‘We wish to ask you some questions out of the presence of the Sidhe,’ it said by way of a greeting.
‘Sure,’ said Jarek, ‘pull up a chair.’
‘I will stand. Query: Have you had sex with the female Sidhe?’
Jarek forced himself not to react. ‘Er, no, I haven’t,’ he said after a moment. ‘She’s not my type.’
‘Query: how long have you known the female?’
He thought about it, then said, ‘About seven years. Most of that time she was in hiding from her people – from the females, I should say. She and Taro have been travelling with me for a couple of months.’
‘Query: do you consider yourself a rebel?’
‘Against the Sidhe? Yes I do,’ he said, feeling himself get a little heated. ‘And before you ask why, they killed my sister, and nearly broke my mind.’
‘I see. And do you trust her?’
‘Trust Nual? Yes, I trust her with my life.’
‘Has she displayed prescient abilities in your presence?’
He paused, and then said, ‘That’s a tricky question: sometimes she’s said things no human could know, but whether that’s prescience or just being a Sidhe I really couldn’t say. I do know that it’s not a controllable ability, and she hasn’t had it long.’ He decided not to mention how Nual’s ability had awoken; they thought badly enough of her already. He didn’t think finding out she had fucked an enemy to death in order to access his shielded mind would improve their opinion. It might be seen as proof that she was every bit the monster she feared she was. He didn’t believe she was a monster; to Jarek, Nual would always be the frightened child he had rescued.
‘Do you have anything further to add?’ asked the avatar.
‘Nope,’ he said shortly.
‘Then you may rest. We may wish to ask additional questions later.’
Jarek waited until the avatar had left before muttering, ‘I can hardly wait.’
By the time she admitted her eighteenth visitor, Nual had begun to see a pattern emerging. So far, four of the avatars had wanted to berate, taunt or bait her; in three cases, this involved an abusive, ranting monologue listing the failings of the female Sidhe; in the fourth a confrontational question-and-answer session where everything she said was treated as a lie.
Nine of the males’ representatives asked ratio
nal questions about how she came to be here, and engaged in degrees of reasoned discussion.
The remainder viewed her as a curiosity, an exhibit in a zoo or museum: one asked her to act like it wasn’t there – easier said than done – while another observed her while she walked around the room.
Several of them asked, in different ways, how Nual felt about them, and to each she answered honestly: they made her uncomfortable, but she felt no personal animosity towards the males of her race. Most of them appeared satisfied with this answer.
No avatar approached closer than two metres; this was probably a condition of being allowed to be alone with her. They were also time-limited; each avatar spent no more than six minutes in her presence.
She did her best to cooperate, and to keep her temper, even when the more unreasonable males tried to provoke her. Any hint of what might be seen as negative behaviour would justify their contempt for her, and quite possibly lead to punishment, perhaps even death.
Exhaustion began to creep up; her voice became ragged and her responses slower. She wondered, in the brief gap between the twenty-third and twenty-fourth visitors, whether they were trying to wear her down, but she decided probably not; it was more likely the males did not know – or did not care – that she was flagging. Whilst in conversation with the twenty-sixth male, a realistically humanoid avatar who wanted to know what ‘lies’ her sisters had told her about the Protectorate years, her voice dried up completely.
The next time the door opened it was Ain, carrying a tray, and Nual gratefully drank the water and ate some of the sludgy food the lingua brought her. Then she asked if Ain knew how many more visitors she was to have.
‘There will be no more for now. You will be allowed a short rest, after which you will be called back into session.’
‘Into the Star Chamber?’
‘Affirmative.’
‘With Jarek?’
‘No, just you. He is resting. Kindly be ready in one hour.’
Nual sighed. She’d feel much more comfortable if she was able to communicate with Jarek without going through the Consensus com system. She had never before tried to mind-speak with Jarek when she was in a different room; though he was a friend and she could pick out his mind in a crowd of strangers, she didn’t have the deep link she shared with Taro. Perhaps she should give it a try.
She stretched out on the bed and put herself into a light trance before searching through the presences around her for the one she knew. The few minds she touched were all lingua; none tasted familiar. She sighed and brought herself out of the trance, then raised her com and left Jarek a message. Her arm felt so heavy . . .
She set the alarm for forty minutes, let her wrist drop onto her chest and closed her eyes.
Even though she had put the alarm on its loudest setting, it took a few moments for her to wake up. She rolled off the bed with a groan and went to splash cold water on her face.
Ain arrived with more refreshments shortly afterwards. Nual accepted the drink, but she left the food; the thought of the upcoming Consensus session was making her feel nauseous.
She scanned Ain’s surface thoughts while the lingua walked beside her back to the Star Chamber, but Ain knew nothing more than she was saying. Nual would have been amazed to discover otherwise.
As the speaking platform rose up into the ersatz sky, Nual tried hard not to think of this as a trial.
The Arbiter opened the session, then said, ‘Lingua, your independent testimony has been considered. It reflects well upon the Sidhe female. A vote has been taken. She will be granted limited speaking rights.’
Ain said, ‘Thank you, honoured patrons.’ Then she turned to Nual and said, ‘Please speak only in response to the patrons’ questions.’
A little impatiently, Nual nodded to show her understanding.
‘Statement: the lingua will leave now,’ said the Arbiter.
Nual picked up Ain’s confusion – the lingua had not expected this – but she obeyed without hesitation, stepping back into the darkness. There was a slight vibration in the platform, then she felt Ain’s presence recede.
‘Query: you call yourself Nual,’ said the Arbiter. ‘Where did you get that name?’
Female Sidhe in the unity did not use names, so this question was not a great surprise – in fact, one of her visitors had already asked it. It looked like the avatar had not shared her answer. That was not the males’ way.
‘Jarek named me.’ She was damned if she was going to call them ‘honoured patrons’.
‘Query: how did you meet Captain Reen?’
No one had asked her that before, and she hesitated, deciding how much she should reveal.
Into her silence the Arbiter said archly, ‘Observation: he has affirmed that you have not had sex with him.’
Though the remark was calculated to infuriate, Nual found a smile pulling at the tense muscles of her face. ‘No,’ she said succinctly, ‘I have not.’
‘Conclusion: he must hate the Sidhe females a great deal.’
‘Yes,’ she said, her tone deliberately echoing that of her first answer, ‘he does.’
‘Repeated query: How did you meet him?’
‘He . . . He helped me – rescued me.’
‘Clarification is required: you say he rescued you?’ The Arbiter’s tone was heavy with disbelief. ‘From what or whom?’
Nual knew she would have to tell them the truth. Although the patrons’ avatars lacked any active abilities– they could no more sniff out deception than they could open a route into shiftspace – in her current frazzled state she doubted she could come up with a plausible lie, especially as she had no idea what Jarek had already said. And if they discovered any attempt to deceive them, they would most likely kill her.
‘I grew up amongst my own kind,’ she began, ‘on a mothership.’
‘Query: how many motherships are there in human-space these days?’ The Arbiter’s tone was conversational.
‘Six,’ she said after a moment’s hesitation. Were they gathering information to help when they restarted the millennia-old feud between the Sidhe sexes?
‘A satisfactory answer,’ said the Arbiter – though whether he considered it so because he was pleased with her cooperative attitude or with the news that the female Sidhe’s powerbase was so limited she could not say. ‘Request: continue your account.’
‘When I was on the cusp of adulthood – sixteen or seventeen years old by human reckoning – I began to question certain things—’
‘Observation: dissent is not permitted in the unity,’ interrupted the Arbiter.
‘No, it is not. I was punished. Excluded.’
‘Observation: that must have been traumatic.’ There was no trace of sympathy in the Arbiter’s voice.
‘It was.’ She waved his comment away. ‘An incident occurred while the ship was in shiftspace. I— It disrupted the unity.’
‘Request for clarification: what sort of incident?’
‘I was excluded from the unity, so all I can be sure of is that something damaged the minds of those who were in communion at that time.’ Entirely true, as far as it went.
Several lights flickered around the chamber. The Arbiter ignored them and continued, ‘Query: what part in this did Captain Reen play?’
Nual smiled. ‘He found me on the mothership. He got me out.’
‘Observation: why would he do that? Humans hate Sidhe.’
‘I called him to me.’
‘Observation: most fascinating.’
Nual refused to let the Arbiter goad her. ‘Initially I exerted some control, but I am not like my sisters. I did not impose my will on him. He chose to rescue me.’
‘Observation: how very noble of him.’
‘You may believe me or not as you choose. Nonetheless, he and I share the same cause.’
‘Addendum: along with your human lover.’
‘Yes.’
‘Observation: the lover who initially appeared to be sleeping with Capt
ain Reen.’
Nual hesitated. The Arbiter had not said it was a question.
Eventually the Arbiter said drily, ‘We await your next statement with interest.’
‘My next statement on what subject?’ she said with all the innocence she could muster.
‘Observation,’ said the Arbiter slowly. ‘Do not make the mistake of forgetting how many sentiences observing and listening to this exchange wish you dead. Fortunately, theirs are not the only voices here and our – my – wish is to take the least disruptive course. However, I cannot stop you if you choose to condemn yourself.’
Nual swallowed. ‘You are asking why Taro and I pretended not to be lovers? For the reason the lingua told you: I had a premonition.’
‘Observation: that is a very rare ability.’
‘It is. In my limited experience it is also unreliable.’
‘Observation: and yet you acted on it.’
‘I did. I decided I had nothing to lose.’ Even if it had annoyed Taro . . . Nual experienced a sudden pang, remembering how hurt he had been.
Some of the lights had gone out; others lit up. Nual guessed there were thousands of simultaneous conversations going on around her. She wished there was a railing, or some other support to hold on to, but all she had to keep her upright was her willpower.
Finally the Arbiter said, ‘Query: tell us of your relationship with Khesh.’
Nual was a little taken aback at the abrupt change of direction, but she determined not to let it show. She said calmly, ‘Khesh discovered I was Sidhe soon after I arrived in his City. He decided to offer me shelter to spite my sisters.’
‘Query: do you trust him?’
‘Yes,’ she said, adding, ‘to an extent.’
‘Request clarification.’
‘I doubt Khesh is entirely honest with me, but I also believe he would not sell me out.’ She had meant specifically to the females, but she was beginning to wonder if they were not the only ones she should be worrying about. Just what bargain had the Minister struck with the Aleph males in return for a beacon? Not her life, surely – without her, Jarek’s ship could not return to human-space.