Hidden Fire (The FIRE series Book 1)

by Rosemarie Cawkwell

  “I hope so. The war is costing us all dear in trade.”

  “How right Bordan, how right.” Lord Sommerton added.

  “My brother-in-law has a whole fleet of warehouses, he sells cloth, furs and such. Keeps complaining that it's interfering with his trade.” Jonsey nodded along.

  The five men chatted about the effect of the war on the trades of the islands while the next two courses were served. Lizzy had been watching them with a crooked smile and turned back to her notebook. They talked in circles around the thing that worried them most: how to end the war. It hadn't been a long war so far, but it had the potential to draw out into stalemate. A stalemate would be ruinous for all of the Islands; the Belenosi might form a trading alliance with some of the Camari Nations if the war went on too long. It hadn't happened yet because the Camari only trusted the Umari, their distant cousins who had migrated to the most isolated of the Islands a thousand years before. She tapped her pen on the page thinking, brain slowed by a large meal and little sleep. The raid had to succeed, but then what? And what if the raid should fail?

  Chapter 43

  Midwinter’s Eve A.E. 1336

  Lizzy paced the Council Chamber with her father and uncle, waiting for news from the twins. They, and the Umaris, had sailed ten days before, the fastest ships in the fleet following a day later. If things went to plan the raid on the Sumoasti fleet in Tarjan's harbour would be well under way. Sailing at night unlit to avoid being seen, the fleet should have joined forces with a small Umari fleet two days before. She knew the plan, sending fire ships, towed by the war ships to Tarjan, into the harbour and ambushing any ships that escaped the flames, was simple, and had worked before, but they'd been unable to communicate since the ships sailed north of Calman.

  The Council Chamber became steadily fuller as people gave into their anxiety and joined Lizzy and the king. The Secretaries of the Fleet and Regiments joined them, bowing quickly before continuing their quiet conversation. Sarah arrived carrying a sheaf of messages that she kept to herself, reading through them repeatedly. Catherine, Elenor, and the princes joined them from the Ducal Residency. Various Ministers arrived after a Moot meeting and took seats, waiting for news with their anxious leaders. Lizzy listened to the buzz of whispered conversations as people became too nervous to speak aloud, afraid to shatter the atmosphere. Lizzy took her seat, quietly tapping on the table until her father reached over and steadied her hands.

  “We'll hear soon. They'll be fine.”

  “I know.” She pulled her hand away and folded her arms across her chest where she continued tapping her fingers against her chest.

  Eventually, after midnight, as Elenor was dropping off to sleep and three ministers had started a quiet argument about some obscure point of law, the came a knock. Lizzy jumped in her seat and raced to be the first to answer it. She was beaten by the Chamberlain, who opened the door slightly, took the message and handed it straight to the king.

  Chapter 44

  “Well?” Duke Michael asked his brother impatiently.

  “They didn't succeed in attacking the fleet in Tarjan.” King John told the assembled and attentive audience.

  “Shit. What happened?”

  “Don't swear Elenor, it's not ladylike. What happened John?”

  “They met the Sumoasti fleet at sea. They didn't get a chance to attack the city. The fire-ships worked but they had to back off and take survivors out of the sea when the fire got too wild. Lord Tarjsn is among the prisoners. It looks like they were on the way to attack us while we were celebrating New Year.”

  “So, we won?”

  “How many casualties did we take?”

  “Are they returning?”

  “Is there any word from Sumoast?”

  “Ladies, gentlemen, please, it's only a dispatch. We'll have to wait for a more detailed report. Now, I suggest we all relax and get as much sleep as possible. Lizzy, have a Message ready for the morning paper?”

  “I'll do what I can, can I have the dispatch?”

  “Of course, of course.”

  Chapter 45

  New Year A.E. 1337

  News of the battle spread rapidly through King's Ford and the surrounding countryside; new dispatches were eagerly read as they arrived and were published. The list of important prisoners arrived three days after the battle, and a week later the ships themselves returned, some putting into northern ports for repairs, others limping onwards to the south coast to repair and restock. Court and public opinion decided that the attack had been a qualified victory only. Lizzy, writing as 'Maggie' for the Daily, expressed the disappointment that the enemy's fleet hadn't been completely destroyed that many people in the city felt. As Minister for Information, Lizzy distributed the daily press releases, attempting to counter the disappointment with news of negotiations.

  The negotiations started off badly; Lord Tarjan refused to speak to anyone until he had heard from his father. He had no instructions for such a negotiation, as he'd expected to attack and defeat the Alboni, not be surprised at sea and captured. He wouldn't even speak Alboni, or communicate with anyone at Court.

  Lizzy and her cousins walked out of the pleasant yet secure tower room in which Lord Tarjan was residing at the Goal after another failed attempt at negotiation. Sarah trailed behind, flicking through her notes.

  “Why don't we just leave him in there alone for a few months?”

  “Because we need to get the negotiations started?”

  “I suppose so. Sarah, did you get anything out of him?”

  “Nope, he wouldn't answer my questions, he doesn't like professional women apparently.”

  “I suppose he thinks it's beneath him to talk to you?”

  “To all of us. He keeps referring to you as the Bastard. He'll only talk to your fathers, and only then once he has instructions from Tarjan.”

  “His father or the city?”

  “Both, he needs their tribal assembly's permission to act too.”

  “Oh, of course.” Alex had forgotten the complexities of Sumoasti government. He mused that it must be difficult to get things done when there were three High Lords and three Tribal Assemblies to consult and agree on an action. As he got older, Alex had decided, the spy business was getting too active, he was considering joining the ambassadorial corps and spying in comfort, rather than spending his nights climbing around other nations' embassies and the private residences of suspected traitors. He'd have to consider these things if he wanted to persuade the King and his father that he was a reasonable choice for an ambassadorial position somewhere. Umar would be a pleasant place to start, since he already had friends there, if they survived their injuries.

  “How are our Umari?” Lawrence asked with a smirk towards Alex. Donach and Danna had both been injured badly in the violence, a fact not known until the morning light shone on the ships after the battle. They'd been among the first back to King's Ford. For two weeks, since they'd returned, they'd lain in fever dreams in their quarters.

  Lawrence must have been reading his mind, Alex grimaced, before speaking, “The Physicks think Donach will recover full use of his arm, if he breaks the fever. Danna.” He shrugged, “Danna might not make it, even if she does wake up. The stomach wound isn't healing at all.”

  “Damn. What will their mother say if her heirs die here from fighting our wars?”

  “The queen will demand blood money and might even declare war.” Lizzy had already considered the matter, with Catherine's help.

  “We can't afford another war.” Sarah muttered behind them.

  “Then they had better survive, hadn't they?” Lizzy growled, “Are the Physicks allowing visitors?”

  “Only one at a time, why?”

  “I haven't seen them since they were brought to the palace. I might go when we get back home.”

  “That will be nice for them.”

  “They're delirious, they won't even know I'm there.”

  “I'm sure they'll respond to your mellifluous v
oice.” Lawrence smirked.

  “Yes, because my crow screech can rouse even the dead.”

  “Only when you sing. Come on, the carriage will be waiting.” The main door was in sight, heavily guarded and locked against the raging snowstorm they'd forgotten about while they spent the afternoon trying to prise information from their prisoner.

  “Are you going to join us Sarah, or return to your office here? That snow is getting heavy.”

  Sarah nodded, “Yes, I suppose it is. I'll stay here, rather than try to get back from the palace later. Take it easy going through the city. It'll be worse on the Royal Road, with no protection from buildings.”

  The Gaol and Office were closely connected, wings on either side of the main entrance, that mirrored each other. The joint front entrance was much more salubrious than the entrance used by prisoners and their visitors.

  “Dawson knows what he's doing, though I can't think of a time when we've ever had this much snow.”

  “We haven't, not for a couple of hundred years at least.” The group looked at Alex quizzically. He shrugged and answered their silent question, “I looked it up last night.”

  “You need better hobbies.” Sarah laughed, “Or maybe I should find more work for you, if you've got enough time to delve through two centuries of weather reports.”

  “It was really easy actually; the Astronomer Royal kept weather records as well as observations. It was quite interesting. Did you know, in the year of the Crow Rebellion, the summer was unusually long, hot and dry. It probably contributed to the Rebellion, when you think about it.”

  “Thanks for the history lesson Alex, can we go home now?” They'd reached the door, and even in her heavy, fur-lined cloak, Lizzy shivered. The guards hovered by the fireplace, trying to watch the door and keep warm at the same time. Someone always had to be by the door so they were taking turns switching places. Lizzy watched the shuffled dance of frozen guardsmen, pitying them.

  “Of course, after you, dear cousin. Dawson has arrived I see.”

  “He looks frozen.”

  Sarah smiled and waved before pushing through the discrete brown door that lead into the Office complex. An unwary visitor might assume it to be the door to a cleaning cupboard or cloakroom. The Office did not advertise.

  Lizzy braced herself for the buffeting cold, pulled her hood up and pushed open the door. The wind had risen, and become sharper since they'd arrived, dragging her breath from her lungs and filling her hood with snow as it was pushed from her face.

  “Get in Miss Lizzy.” Dawson called down to her and watched as a guard wrenched the carriage door open for the three royals. Hunkering down against the wind and snow, Dawson pulled away from the shelter of the Gaol and out on to the empty city streets as soon as his passengers were aboard. He took it slowly, despite his nagging desire to get the back to the palace as soon as possible. Something wasn't right about this weather; Dawson wasn't a superstitious man, but he spent a lot of time with horses and his horses were not happy about something. The Curates would be incensed if anyone mentioned the possibility that something unnatural was happening; only the One could influence the weather and only the Curacy knew how to placate the wrath of their god. The High Curate had already announced that the weather, unusually harsh, was merely a natural phenomenon, and not signs of divine displeasure. Dawson didn't like to question the pronouncements of the High Curate, but he knew magic when his horses felt it.

  The horses must have felt to impulse to return to their warm stables as well; despite Dawson's determination to keep a slow and steady pace they pulled away, travelling faster as they reached the Royal Road and the gates to the palace grounds. The churned road had frozen into a lumpy quagmire, the coach bouncing painfully over the once perfect and picturesque grassy lane. There was a rap on the roof before Alex shoved his head out of the roof window.

  “What's the hurry Dawson, we're hitting the roof in here?”

  Gripping the reins tightly Dawson turned to answer,

  “Sorry Master Alex, it's the horses, something's spooked them. It's the weather, there's something not right about it.” He shouted to be heard above the wind's roar.

  “They know that do they?”

  “They know everything. You should listen to your horses and dogs; they know things we don't.”

  “What's in the wind?”

  “Someone is trying to hurt Albon, weaken us, maybe harm you.”

  “I see. Get us to the Palace in one piece and you can have a raise.”

  “Thanks Master Alex, I'll do what I can.” Dawson turned back to his horses as Alex popped back into the carriage and the window clanged shut behind him.

  “Alright, my dears, let's get back home quick and safe.” The horses tossed their snow matted tails, looked back, before dashing forward, moving smoothly over the snow. They found the gentlest path for the carriage, aware of their human's delicacy. They no more liked the snow than they did the spirits whirling in the air, but snow they could cope with. The only way to defeat the spirits was to outrun them, back to the herd and the shelter of the stables.

  In the carriage Lizzy and the twins had no idea that a conversation was taking place between their driver and his horses, only registering a slight increase in comfort. Alex repeated his conversation with Dawson to his incredulous cousin and brother.

  “It's ridiculous superstition! The horses are frightened by the snow and wind, there's nothing attacking us.”

  “Mother wouldn't agree with you; the Umari believe spirits inhabit the world just like we do.” Lawrence looked thoughtfully out of his window while his cousin sighed and brother nodded.

  “Yes, yes, I know, I do remember our lessons Lawrence; you can't seriously believe that rot though?”

  Lawrence and Alex looked at each other; sometimes Lizzy thought they spoke to each other in the silence, but dismissed it. They merely understood each other so well because they were close. The twins nodded to each other before Alex spoke for them both, “Some of it. Mother taught Elenor and John a few things.”

  “And they told us. I caught Elenor muttering a charm against the spirits in the wind this morning.”

  “Well, the wind hasn't settled down so it can't have worked.”

  Lawrence looked over at Alex, not wanting to explain that the wind had dropped for a few seconds as they'd left the house to ride to the palace from their father's house. It hadn't lasted long, just long enough for them to get out of the gates and on to the Royal Road. Lizzy wouldn't hear it even if they told her. She was too convinced of her belief that there was only the material world to hear their evidence. Once she got an idea in her head, everything else was pushed out. They'd seen it with her politics; once she'd been as complacently liberal as most of the court, but since Sarah's 'education' she'd been a leading figure among the Radicals, seeming to burn with a passion to change their country.

  “I suppose you could say that.” Alex conceded at last.

  “Of course it didn't, stop being daft. It's only a winter storm.”

  They sat in silence until the quality of the vibrations echoing up through the wheels changed and they stopped in the stable yard behind the palace. Dawson rapped on the roof and they climbed out, out of sorts with each other and the world around them. The horses shied away from them as they stalked across the yard. Dawson muttered, shook his head and directed to horses to their stable, where a team of ostlers waited to help unharness the carriage and get the horses settled. They all felt the bristling danger in the air, and opted to stay the night with their animals rather than risk the walk back to their cottages in the servants’ village.

  “Your Highness, Masters, Prince Donach has woken; he calls for you all urgently.” A servant, loitering by the door, awaiting their return, took their cloaks as he gave them the message.

  “Of course, we'll go to him now. Have someone inform the king we have returned.”

  “Yes Your Highness.” The man bowed and hurried away to the servants’ quarters to send a m
essage using the newly installed air tubes to the royal chambers, where the king's servants would pass it to the king. The whole system saved a lot of rushing about but some of the servants didn't understand the new technology and were convinced it was devilment.

  “Lizabeth, thank you for coming.” Donach was propped up on a mound of pillows, pale and drawn, dark circles around his dark eyes.

  “Well, we could hardly have stayed away,” Lizzy took a seat beside him as the twins grinned to see their friend awake.

  “I should say not; we were on our way up when the servant told us you were awake.”

  “And we're glad you are; we were getting worried about you.”

  “I am touched, my friends, but you must help me get to Danna. The Healer won't let me out of my bed.”

  “You've only just woken up.”

  “If I don't go to her and bring her back, she won't wake up at all.”

  His three visitors looked at each other for a few agonisingly long seconds then nodded.

  “What do you need us to do?”

  “Distract the Healer and help me into Danna's room. I'll do the rest.”

  “Do what, precisely? Our Physicks have done everything they can.”

  “I need to call her back. Her souls wanders in the wind, I need to anchor it back in her body.”

  Lizzy looked at him in confusion then nodded. If it was what he wanted to do, then she'd help. It was pointless, but Lizzy wouldn't be the one to tell him that; Donach obviously needed to cling to the hope that his sister would live so that he could recover, himself.

  “Where's the Physick now?”

  “In the other room, preparing some potion to draw the poison from Danna's wounds. It won't work if we can't call her back to her body though.”

  “I'll go talk to the Physick if you two get Donach to Danna?”

  The twins nodded in agreement. It was probably best if Lizzy wasn't in the room while Donach called his sister back. Their step-mother had done something similar when they were younger, calling back the soul of a servant who'd fallen repairing a barn roof and knocked themselves senseless. When Lizzy disappeared through the door to the apothecary they stripped back the covers on the bed. Donach swung his legs around as the twins sat on either side ready to brace him and stand. In this way, they got their friend out of bed and slowly across the room to a further door that led into Danna's sick room. Donach stretched his toes and legs, feeling the muscles ache with unexpected movement. The wooden floor was smooth and cool under his feet, as his nightshirt flapped around his knees.