Daughter of Independence

by Simon Brown

  ‘You are the Empress of the Hamilay,’ Yunara said, stretching her lovely white neck so it caught some of the sun. ‘You love every Hamilayan.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Lerena said, frowning, and then she smiled when she realised what it meant. She felt rather than saw Uilder edge away from her on the seat. Yunara looked disdainfully at the Axkevleren. Lerena’s smile turned into a lilting laugh. ‘Welcome, sister,’ she said, stepping over the brink.

  And the universe, unwilling, followed.

  3

  Commodore Avier, commander of the Kydan navy, such as it was, admired his new uniform in the ribboned waters of the Poloma Channel separating the islands of Herris and Kayned. It amused the commodore that the prefect of the city, even now sharing a thwart with him on the small boat making the journey between the islands, was named after the god protecting this finger of the Frey River. Both prefect and channel were thin, deep and dependable. Avier, being a sailor, had always made comparisons between people and rivers, estuaries, oceans and seas. He had heard that a person’s humour was like the tide, and both could be influenced by sun and moon, and he thought that made perfect sense.

  Just as becoming a Kydan made perfect sense. It had never been his intention; originally he had just agreed to transport General Third Prince Maddyn Kevleren across the Deepening Sea from Hamilay to the New Land, but then that task had led to another and another after that and Avier had found himself not only enjoying the successive commissions but also developing a genuine and surprisingly deep attachment to this strange city of Kydan, small by old-world standards but peopled by men and women with vigour, courage and honour.

  Yes, he liked the red and gold of the new Kydan uniform, Avier decided, and adjusted the high collar of his jacket before twisting slightly at the waist so the reflection would show his very martial epaulettes. Yes, not bad at all . . .

  ‘Commodore?’

  Avier glanced up, startled. Strategos Galys Valera was looking at him with obvious amusement, although out of consideration for him she was trying to hide it. ‘Your merchant ships would have no trouble navigating this channel, Commodore?’

  ‘None at all. It’s at least two longyards deep at the middle, and wide enough for them to turn. Remember, they were built first as grain ships, for travelling up and down the empire’s rivers to collect their consignment straight from the silos.’

  ‘Galys, what is all this about?’ Poloma asked her. ‘First you ask us to come for a little jaunt on the river as if it was a holiday, despite the fact the council is meeting this afternoon for the first time since defeating Numoya Kevleren, and now you’re asking the commodore about merchant ships.’

  ‘We don’t have a proper dock,’ Galys said.

  ‘Ships have been loading and unloading cargo from the beach on the Saddle for hundreds of years,’ Poloma said, ‘and it’s worked very well, thank you very much.’

  ‘That was when the city was dealing with river traffic and the rare merchant ship from across the Deepening Sea. But it won’t stay like that, Poloma, you have to understand that. Kydan is known to the old world now, and the old world will soon learn there is peace here and resume coming for New Land goods. Not just one ship now and then, but hundreds every year, and eventually thousands. You need a proper port, like Somah, with docks, dry-docks, warehouses, custom houses, shipyards, timber yards, accommodation for stevedores and guards.’ Galys licked her lips. ‘And much more. Like a foundry, for example. A foundry here on the island of Kayned.’

  ‘A what?’ Poloma asked, and Avier just stared at her.

  ‘A foundry. A place where we work metal on a large scale. And you’ll need bridges connecting the islands with each other and the mainland. And a road network. And supply trains to get iron are and copper and coal and tin –’

  ‘Wait, Galys!’ Poloma cried. ‘What are you talking about? Why do we need all of this? We have blacksmiths and furnaces that do all of that.’

  Galys took a deep breath. ‘Not on the scale Kydan will need. With a foundry the city will have a chance to make its own future, instead of having its future made for it by others with much greater economic and industrial might. It’s what Maddyn Kevleren planned all along, for Kydan to have a chance to compete with the empire and the kingdom of Rivald.’

  ‘The fact that a Kevleren planned this for Kydan is not a recommendation,’ Poloma said curtly.

  ‘That isn’t fair, Poloma,’ Galys replied. ‘You know Maddyn was not like the rest of his family. By the Sefid, it was his family that probably killed him! He planned this because he knew it was the only chance your city had of standing up to the Kevlerens.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ Poloma huffed, and looked to Avier for support.

  ‘I have to agree with the prefect, Strategos,’ Avier said. ‘I see the point of having a full working port, but I don’t see how having a foundry will make us stronger.’

  ‘I have been reading Kitayra’s papers,’ she said, ‘and I understand why Maddyn agreed to let her join the expedition to Kydan. It was not simply the fact that she was a grammarian, but a grammarian who was researching the Kevlerens and their dealings with technology.’

  ‘I hope this isn’t going to be an academic argument,’ Poloma said. ‘I mean no disrespect to Kitayra Albyn, you understand, she was a fine woman and a fine grammarian –’

  ‘Oh, Poloma, stop it. You don’t have to pretend with me. I loved her, but I wasn’t blind to the fact others did not get on with her. And this is not an academic argument. It’s about surviving and thriving despite the Kevlerens.’

  ‘Yes, I know, the empire is very strong –’ Poloma started, trying not to sound dismissive.

  ‘This isn’t about the empire, Poloma,’ Galys cut him short. ‘It’s about the Sefid.’

  *

  The day started like this for Heriot Fleetwood: she woke from a bad dream by falling out of her cot and hurting her left hand, which made her bad-tempered, and then on the way to the communal refectory the new Kydans had established for themselves on the island of Karhay, had tripped on a large rock, falling over and hurting her left hand again as well as causing a split in her new wooden bowl which she had only finished sanding the day before. When she got to the refectory she found the milk was off and the eggs were runny. Feeling sorry for herself and out of sorts with the world she turned to leave, still hungry, and walked straight by Arden who called after her. Heriot was in no mood to talk with anyone and ignored him. Arden, who did not read the signs very well, took one giant step after her and grasped her left hand to slow her down. Heriot shouted in pain, pulled her hand away from Arden and turned to face him, furious and looking for a fight.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you about –’ started Arden, still not seeing that anything was wrong.

  ‘I don’t care,’ Heriot said dismissively. ‘I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to talk to anyone.’

  ‘This is important, Heriot,’ Arden said flatly. ‘It involves the colonists.’

  Heriot, a storm behind her eyes, moved towards Arden. The few who were outside the refectory and listening to the developing argument saw something no one had ever seen before: Arden retreated.

  ‘There are no such things as colonists any more, as I’ve told you countless times before. We’re all Kydans. And nothing in the world is so important that it can’t wait until . . .’ Heriot struggled to think of something it couldn’t wait for, but could only growl in anger and frustration as nothing came to mind. ‘Until I’m good and ready to hear it!’ she shouted, and stalked off. Arden watched her for a moment and then let out a perplexed sigh and went into the refectory.

  Later, as everyone gathered for the noon meal, Heriot took Arden aside and apologised for her behaviour.

  ‘Everything went wrong this morning,’ she said. ‘Little things, but one on top of the other.’

  ‘There’s more to it, though,’ he said, making it a statement and not a question.

  Heriot glanced away from him. ‘I know. It’s
the Colonists’ Guild.’

  ‘It’s not just that. There’s something else, isn’t there? Something to do with the two of us.’

  Heriot was very still. She wanted to say she did not know what he was talking about, but that would be a lie.

  ‘It’s about me being an Axkevleren,’ Arden said, ‘and what that means for what is possible between us.’

  ‘You said we’ll be friends no matter what.’ Heriot tried not to sound defiant.

  ‘For my part, we will. But that isn’t what you want, is it, Heriot Fleetwood? You want more.’

  ‘I can get that any time,’ she said, then blushed when she realised what might be understood from it. ‘That didn’t come out exactly the way I meant.’

  ‘You’re right, though. I know any number among the colonists – new Kydans – willing to try you on. And one or two others.’

  Heriot glared at Arden. ‘That could have been better said.’

  Arden sighed. ‘I have no experience with this, Heriot. The point is, you don’t want to sleep with just anyone.’

  Again, Heriot did not know what to say. She had been looking after herself for so long, surviving against sometimes enormous odds, that admitting she had physical and emotional needs beyond what she could supply herself was too much for her.

  ‘What I am trying to say,’ Arden continued after a moment, managing to look embarrassed and gruff at the same time, ‘is that you should find someone.’

  ‘You make it sound like a hunt.’

  Arden gazed steadily at her, waiting for some other response.

  ‘I am perfectly happy,’ she said eventually.

  Arden continued to watch her, but Heriot would say no more, and eventually he walked away.

  *

  To a certain extent, the new Kydans had already found a formal place in the Assembly, the single-storey round building where the city council held its meetings. Kydan’s new strategos, new military commander, new commodore of the fleet, new warden of the Citadel and new advisor to Prefect Poloma Malvara on unity were all new Kydans. Because their advice was now seen as essential in many of the council’s deliberations, they were given seats not far from the council table, on a special bench made for the purpose. In fact, the only original inhabitant on the bench was Ensign Lannel Thorey.

  And it was all wrong, Galys knew. The presence of so many new Kydans in positions of influence and power could not help but be noticed by the original Kydans, and would do little to dissuade those who still felt resentment at those from Hamilay who had made their home in their city. However, being a strategos, Galys had a solution. The difficulty was that the solution depended on the council first agreeing to a certain change to its own constitution, and that in turn depended entirely on Poloma successfully introducing the change during the meeting about to start.

  The Assembly’s tiered gallery was quickly filling up, and Kydans just arriving were having to find standing space behind the seats. Beneath the gallery was the advisors’ bench, with all the advisors present except Commander Gos Linsedd, who was away securing Sayenna. In the centre of the building was the long elliptical council table, and councillors who had been in groups discussing and arguing over issues were taking their chairs. Prefect Poloma Malvara entered the hall and with studied grace walked to his own chair, no different from any other councillor’s except it was directly under the Assembly’s largest skylight, affording greater warmth in the winter months but making it much hotter in the summer. Galys admired the way he drew everyone’s attention despite the fact he was one of the shortest and physically least impressive-looking native Kydans present. As a rule, the Kydans were a tall, golden-skinned people who enjoyed wearing brightly coloured clothes; Poloma was wearing plain bleached pants and a tunic, with the orange sash of the prefect’s office providing the only colour. Everyone watched him, however, because he possessed the quality of leadership that could only be acquired through turmoil and danger and carrying almost unbearable responsibilities, and never studied or cultivated. Galys smiled to herself, remembering what he had been like only a year ago: unsure, hesitant, filled with doubt, but also filled with a great determination and far more courage than anyone, including Poloma himself, would have credited. He was truly Prefect of Kydan, and in a real sense, because he was small, resilient, determined and courageous, ably reflected the city he led. The strategos was proud to know him, and to be able to call him a friend.

  Although a leader in the hearts of the people, as far as the council was concerned, he was only a moderator. It was his duty to introduce issues and guide discussion, and he could vote only to break a deadlock. But, as Poloma had shown again and again, in the hands of a wise prefect, that was power enough.

  When Poloma reached his chair he did not sit but stood behind it.

  ‘Welcome Kydans, one and all, old and new,’ he started, raising his voice to be heard over the hubbub. Silence fell in the Assembly, and Poloma paused long enough to sweep his gaze over the whole audience before continuing. Galys had picked up enough of the Kydan language to follow the meaning of most of his words, but even where she missed one or two his tone was plain enough for her to make sense of the whole.

  ‘We have several serious matters before us today, and the decisions we make concerning them will determine the future of our city for a very long time to come. We have been through so much already, I do not believe any of the challenges we face will overwhelm us, yet we must discuss and vote on them so all Kydans know the course we set was agreed on by the council in the interests of all.

  ‘First, I am sure it is obvious to everyone here that the council no longer fully represents every citizen. The colonists from Hamilay are colonists no longer, but fellow Kydans, our brothers and sisters in adversity, who have demonstrated their right to belong to this city as surely as those of us fortunate enough to have been born here. That being the case, we have two choices. First, to dismiss the present council and hold new elections so that its membership better reflects the new Kydan. Second, to expand the number of councillors to include those who would represent our newest citizens.’

  Poloma sat down as almost everyone in the Assembly started talking with their neighbours at the same time. Poloma waited until the noise subsided, then said, ‘What does the council say?’

  Galys watched with increasing admiration as Poloma’s faction, schooled and prepared by him, argued convincingly that the second alternative, expanding the size of the council, was not only appropriate but fairer to the sitting councillors. Once the last point was made, the rest of the council, assured their own positions were safe, swung behind the motion and it was unanimously carried. Any discussion about whether or not the new Kydans should even have representation in the Assembly at this stage was curtailed before it had any chance to start.

  Poloma did not rest on his victory but immediately turned to Galys and asked her to address the Assembly with the concerns she privately had raised earlier with him.

  Galys, who had sighed with relief when the vote for expanding the council was confirmed, was suddenly tense with anticipation. She and Poloma had only agreed this morning on what she was about to propose. Despite argument and counterargument, in the end he had had to agree with her, and now that he had done his part, it was her turn.

  She stood up from the bench, leaving behind the papers she had brought with her, and approached the council table so everyone in the building could see her easily. Like Poloma, she took a moment to survey all who were present, slowly turning on her heel, convincing them she was confident and in control, and giving herself a chance to believe it as well. After turning full circle, she could not help seeing Poloma staring at her with what he probably hoped was encouragement, but she could see the doubt behind his eyes. Despite winning their argument this morning, Galys knew that in his heart Poloma was not convinced. It was his respect for her, his confidence in her knowledge and experience as a strategos, that had finally persuaded him to back her in this new endeavour.

 
‘The old world has long known about Kydan, but until this generation was not much bothered with it,’ she started, and Poloma translated for her as she spoke. ‘Soon the old world will know that Kydan is once again at peace with itself and its neighbours. Soon the great merchant fleets of the old world will be sailing across the Deepening Sea. Ships from the Hamilayan empire, ships from the kingdom of Rivald. Ships from lands controlled by the Kevlerens.’ Galys knew her words would spark a reaction, and she held up her hands to quieten the Assembly.

  ‘I know what many of you are thinking!’ she cried out. ‘You are afraid that with the attention of the Kevlerens comes war and disaster. You are right to be afraid! But the coming of their merchant fleets also provides us with opportunities. Opportunities to become a great and wealthy trading city, opportunities to become a city with the wherewithal to defend itself against any threat. Even one from the Kevlerens.’

  This time she let the ruckus she knew would come run its course, at least until she heard the question she wanted to answer, and it was asked in a voice she recognised from old.

  ‘How can you say that? How can we defend ourselves against the Kevleren? How can we defend ourselves against the Sefid?’

  Galys faced the speaker and said solemnly said, ‘Councillor Kysor Nevri. How nice to hear from you again.’

  The Assembly fell into silence. The antagonism between Kysor Nevri and the settlers from Hamilay and their supporters was well known. He had been the leader of the opposition to the integration between old and new Kydans, an opposition that almost sent the city into a civil war. That was in the past now, and Kysor Nevri had caused no more trouble since Numoya Kevleren had attacked the city early in the summer, but everyone knew there was no love lost between him and Galys.