by Simon Brown
‘Who?’ Galys demanded. Absurdly, she felt offended no one had told her before, especially since it seemed to be general knowledge among her colleagues. ‘Who was his Kevleren?’
‘Hetha,’ Kadburn told her. ‘Or to give her full title, Her Majesty the Empress Hetha of Hamilay Lerena’s mother.’
Poloma gasped. Arden did not tell me that.’
‘Wait,’ Galys said. ‘He is part of the Colonists’ Guild. I do not think he would agree to leave.’
‘It is his idea to go to Sayenna,’ Poloma said. ‘Although sending him as governor of that city is my initiative. And he informs me that the guild is redundant.’
‘I thought he and Heriot Fleetwood were very close, and yet she has just been made a member of the council. She cannot go to Sayenna.’
‘She was not looking very happy during the investiture, so possibly this is something the two of them have already discussed,’ Poloma suggested. ‘Be that as it may, I will send Arden.’
‘Will you send him alone?’ Kadburn asked.
‘I had not thought of anyone else,’ Poloma admitted.
‘Then consider Quenion. I think she pines here. Sending her back to Sayenna will take her away from the place where she slew her master, Numoya. It is even possible that Arden will help her recover, as he once helped me. And she knows Sayenna, and will be able to help Arden establish an effective administration.’
‘Very well.’
‘And what of Velan Lymok?’ Galys asked. ‘Will you recall him with Gos Linsedd?’
‘No. Sayenna will need a soldier to organise its militia, if not one actually in charge. Velan Lymok will stay in the south.’ Poloma frowned as he spoke. ‘Although I suppose it is possible that Velan and Quenion may work together to undermine Arden . . .’
‘To what effect?’ Galys countered. ‘They have no power base there now that Numoya is dead. Besides, having seen Arden at work, both at organising others and at war, I am confident he can handle any trouble that comes his way.’
‘Then we are decided?’ Poloma asked.
‘You are prefect, my friend,’ Galys said. ‘It has to be your decision. I think it the best option, however, if that makes any difference to you.’
‘It does. Very well, I am decided. Grim Arden will be sent to Sayenna as its governor, accompanied by Quenion Axkevleren.’
‘And Avier can take them,’ Galys said. ‘He is even now loading his fleet with cargo for Hamilay. He can detour to Sayenna, carry out some trading there, give orders to Gos to return, and then go on to Hamilay. I am on my way to see him now about some things I want brought back from across the Deepening Sea.’
‘I will write out the orders now if you will wait,’ Poloma said.
When the prefect left for his office, Galys asked Kadburn, ‘Was Arden’s counsel of any help to you?’
Kadburn, surprised by the question, took time to think for a moment. ‘I think so. It is hard for me to remember exactly how I felt in the days after Maddyn died. I remember being in a fog for a long time. I know I helped hunt down the enemy fleeing after their failed attack on the city, but not much more.’
‘Can you recall what Arden said?’
‘Mostly no, but he did tell me that although the pain of losing Maddyn would never leave me, I would survive. Arden said better than he knew.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that not only have I survived, but I have survived, like Arden, as an Axkevleren without a Kevleren. Don’t misunderstand me, I miss Maddyn terribly. We were more like brothers than anything else, but if he had died while we were still in Hamilay I would have been taken under the wing of another member of the Kevleren family.’
‘You wouldn’t have had a choice?’
‘Yes, we could go our own way if our Kevleren died, but you have to understand that most of us had no memory of any other life. We were not ready to have a life of our own.’
‘But am I right in thinking that is exactly what Arden did?’
‘Yes. He is the only one I know of, however. I suppose there were others, but it was not in the Kevleren interest to let their Axkevlerens know there was an existence beyond service in their family. I would not have gone my own way, I am sure. But I was here in Kydan when Maddyn died, and I had to learn to be independent, to be Kadburn first and Axkevleren second. Now I am just Kadburn, I think.’
‘When last we talked about this, revenging Maddyn’s death was the most important thing for you.’
‘No more important than your need to revenge Kitayra’s death,’ Kadburn pointed out. ‘I think now that concentrating on that helped me survive for the first few tendays after his death.’
‘For me as well, after losing Kitayra,’ Galys admitted. ‘But now?’
‘If the opportunity presents itself for revenge, I will take it. But I serve Maddyn’s memory better by helping to keep this city safe and helping to make it grow than by chasing his murderer.’
‘The empress.’
Kadburn looked grim. ‘Yes. It was Lerena, I suppose. Can we have any doubt about that after Avier’s report from the old world informing us of Lerena’s Wielding that destroyed not only the Beloveds but her sister Yunara as well?’
‘At university I was taught that we can always have doubt.’
‘And do you?’
Galys laughed mirthlessly. ‘No. It was Lerena. It fits in with how Maddyn and Kitayra died. It is the only answer.’
‘You don’t sound as sure as your words.’
‘Only because we are powerless to do anything about it. And because I think Lerena has not finished with us yet.’
Further conversation was forestalled by Poloma’s return. ‘I have the order,’ he said, waving the document in front of them. ‘Shall we go to Avier?’
Kadburn excused himself. ‘I have duties to attend to in the Citadel.’
Galys and Poloma left the Assembly and headed towards the Saddle. To the south dark rolling clouds were gathering at the horizon, but it would be many hours before they arrived, and in the meantime the sun was shining high over the city. The Frey River reflected so much light they squinted in the glare.
As they descended the ramp to the Saddle, Poloma asked, ‘What is it you want Avier to bring back with him from Hamilay?’
‘People,’ she said and, catching sight of Poloma’s expression, added, ‘Don’t worry. Not many. Just a select handful of professionals. I want engineers and physics, teachers and scientists.’
‘For the new industries we are building?’
‘And for Kydan’s new university.’
Poloma could not hide his sudden pleasure. ‘Where? When? I mean, how soon can we build one?’
‘We will use buildings that already exist. There are the homes of the plutocrats, still empty after we forced them out of the city. And as the city can afford to, we will construct classrooms and laboratories.’
‘Well, this is exciting,’ Poloma said, more to himself than Galys.
‘It is a dream of yours, I know.’
‘Ever since I learned about the university in Omeralt. I thought it the best thing the old world could give Kydan.’ He blinked rapidly and looked apologetically at Galys. ‘I mean, apart from yourselves and the other new Kydans, of course.’
‘Naturally,’ Galys said, laughing.
*
Ames Westaway thought he had been cleverly circumspect in his investigations, but after getting back to Karhay from the mainland after another exercise with his half-troop, he got off the ferry to come face to face with the girl who had been the subject of his inquiries.
‘You have been asking about me,’ she said crossly, hands on her hips, frowning severely at him.
He did not understand every word but got the gist of her meaning.
‘I not sure your meaning,’ he blustered in his patchy Kydan. He suddenly wished he had a better ear for accent and foreign words; so many of his men were picking up Kydan better and more quickly than he.
‘My mother, my sist
er, my other sister and my uncle all say it is you, and point you out when you go to Herris,’ she insisted.
Ames felt his cheeks heating. His men were crowding around to see what the fuss was, and when one of them figured it out and passed it on, they started snickering and making barely audible suggestions to him.
He turned on them and snapped, ‘All right, that’s enough! Get up to the stables! Move it!’
They moved off in no particular hurry, throwing extra hints to him over their shoulders.
He turned back to the girl, trying to maintain his anger, but when he saw her deep brown eyes his anger bled away and he blushed all the more.
‘You are not polite to me,’ she said. ‘You should not be asking these questions.’
‘It isn’t true, Canna,’ he said, his voice climbing even as he spoke.
Her eyebrows arched. ‘Is that so, Mr Ensign? Then how do you know my name?’
‘I –’
Ames shut his mouth. She had him, and he had not the wit to lie so convincingly that he could get out of his fix.
‘I like it I can talk to you face to face,’ he said instead. ‘Openly, I mean.’
Her own anger seemed to melt a little then.
‘We are the same height,’ he said hopefully, taking his helmet off and moving his hand from the top of his head to hers to show they were even.
‘This is important?’ she asked.
When he had said the words he had, somehow, thought it was important, but now he realised it was one of the most stupid things he had ever said to a girl.
‘No, of course not. I was being silly.’
He could not help looking at her.
‘No more questions, Mr Ensign. Leave my family alone.’
He thought the way she said ensign, the manner in which her tongue moved around the Hamilayan word, was wonderful. ‘Captain,’ he said.
‘What?’
He pointed to his epaulettes. ‘Captain, not ensign.’
‘Ah, I see,’ she said.
‘But call me ensign if you like.’
Canna was frowning again, and Ames wished he could learn to shut up.
‘No more questions,’ she said with some finality, and started walking away.
‘Can you eat?’ he called out.
‘What an absurd question,’ she said without looking back and without stopping.
‘I mean with me!’ he called out even louder.
She said nothing this time, and Ames had to be content with watching her until she was gone from sight.
*
Near dusk the day after Poloma had agreed to make Arden the new governor of Sayenna, Heriot found him preparing to board the Annglaf in the company of the female who had slain Numoya. She struggled to remember her name, and wished the woman had not been there. Heriot was determined not to let Arden leave without having some words with him, no matter how difficult that might be, and the other’s presence would only make it harder. The big man’s gruff farewell earlier in the day had surprised Heriot so much she had only been able to stand in shocked silence as he had turned and walked away.
Quenion, she told herself, that’s it. Quenion Axkevleren. And then Heriot thought, An Axkevleren like Arden! The fact disturbed her, as if by virtue of once having been an Axkevleren, Quenion might fully replace Heriot in Arden’s esteem.
And what of that? her thoughts went on. It was not as if you fought to keep him by your side. It was not as if the relationship between you and Arden had a brighter future than the one already fading away.
But that was not true, strictly speaking. The reverse was the problem. She did not have a relationship with Arden. She had fallen in love with him. When exactly that had happened was something she could not figure out, but it had been so gradual, so unexpected, that only now she risked losing him did she fully understand what it was she felt. With it came confusion, too, because she knew they could only ever have the relationship they already possessed. It could go no further. He was an Axkevleren and, thanks to the drug administered to them from the time they became Axkevlerens to the time they stopped growing and became adults, love for them could never be physically intimate.
She swallowed, angry that it could end so soon, that she had let it go so far. She needed to talk to him, maybe to change his mind about going.
The one called Kadburn was also there, and he pulled Quenion aside to talk with her. Seeing her chance, Heriot stood next to Arden. His eyes were closed and she had to clear her throat to make him notice her. His eyes flickered open, and she saw such sadness in them she almost cried out.
‘Hello, Heriot Fleetwood,’ he said, his voice very low, and with more expression in it than she had ever heard before.
‘You could have talked to me about this,’ she said. ‘You could have told me sooner you were thinking of getting on a bloody ship and sailing away.’
Arden breathed out slowly and said, ‘I have to go. I think I need to be away from Kydan for a while.’
‘How long is a while?’
For a moment Arden said nothing, then he moved his hands about three spans apart from each other and said, ‘Oh, about this long.’
A laugh burst out of her so quickly she could not stop it, but she knew that if she had tried she would only have brought up tears instead. ‘You silly fool.’
Arden actually smiled at her, and she felt her spirits rise despite everything.
‘You know I love you, don’t you?’ she said. She had meant it to be a declaration, but her throat tightened so much it came out as a hoarse whisper.
‘Yes,’ he said solemnly. ‘And I know that I love you. But I also know you deserve more than I can give.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Yes you do, Heriot Fleetwood. You always know what I’m talking about. You’re the only person I ever met who always knew what I was talking about.’
‘It’s not too late, you know. You can just say you’re staying. No one could ever force Arden to go where he did not want to go. Anyway, they would have me to contend with as well.’
‘I gave my word I would do this thing for Poloma Malvara. For Kydan. And for the people in Kydan. And it is something I want to do.’
‘You’re always looking out for someone else. When will you look out for yourself for a change?’
‘You’ve been doing that for me.’
Heriot felt her breath catch somewhere deep inside her. Don’t cry, you fool. You promised yourself years ago you would never cry for yourself or for anyone else. Before she could say anything more, Commodore Avier, standing at the railing at the stern of Annglaf, shouted down for everyone who was boarding to hurry up.
‘I want this evening’s tide, and I’ll wait for no one!’ he cried.
Arden took Heriot’s hand, squeezed it gently, leaned over so far he was almost at right angles above her and kissed the top of her head. ‘Don’t wait,’ he said, and immediately walked away and boarded the schooner, Quenion Axkevleren close behind.
‘I’ll wait as long as I like,’ she said, but no one heard her.
As the ship finally edged away from the Saddle, and the channel stream caught her and eased her into the Bay of Kydan, the only figure anyone could see distinctly on the ship was Grim Arden, his wide back to the city, his black head silhouetted against the Annglaf’s white sails as they caught a breeze and billowed out.
Heriot sensed rather than saw someone come to stand beside her. ‘Well, Councillor,’ said Poloma Malvara, ‘I wish them all fair weather.’
Heriot could only nod.
‘He’ll be back one day,’ he added.
‘Bloody better be,’ she said tightly.
6
Duke Paimer Kevleren and his escort of Royal Guards reached the outskirts of Beferen, Rivald’s once-capital, on a morning lit by a pale yellow sun struggling to break through a flat, pearl-coloured sky. Even as he made his way to the old palace at the heart of the city, Paimer assigned members of his escort to clear away rub
ble from the street, and when he reached the courtyard of the palace, with its horrible gargoyles staring down from the roof, he fought off memories of its dark halls and rooms and the terrible knowledge that this was where all the horrific events of the last year had had their genesis, and immediately organised an office in what had once been the long throne room, the brightest space in the whole building.
‘Shouldn’t you first choose a set of rooms for your private chambers?’ Idalgo asked, managing to sound affronted that the duke had not followed the normal protocol. When Paimer refused to answer he disappeared again.
Paimer ordered desks moved in, and charts and maps of the city and census rolls brought to him, then sent out messengers to round up the city’s most prominent citizens as well as any Rivald army officers who might have survived Lerena’s invasion, and any bureaucrats who had been employed by the Safety Committee.
Some of the palace servants who had worked for the old Kevleren dynasty before its overthrow by the Safety Committee seemed to welcome the return of someone from the duke’s family who was not the Empress Lerena herself, and in what seemed a very short time had opened windows, dusted furniture and lit candles and lanterns. The palace started to come alive again. Paimer went from room to room, issuing orders and instructions, little whirlwinds of activity starting up in his wake.
By the time the day was waning, the palace was well lit, warm and bustling. With some satisfaction at the good start that had been made, Paimer went to the rooms he finally had set aside as his chambers for a light meal of cold meat and warm vegetable soup. While that was being done one of the palace servants brushed up his red wig and, although it would never be as good as new, when Paimer put it on and examined himself in a dress mirror he felt almost like his old self.
The notion gave him pause, and he realised with some surprise that he did not entirely want to be like his old self. Anyway, he no longer had Idalgo with him.
‘Of course you do,’ Idalgo said.
And anyway, Paimer went on, he was not sure he would like his old self if he met him. Too self-satisfied, for one thing. Too . . .