She nuzzled his chest. ‘I won’t let him.’
‘May I kiss you?’ he whispered in her ear. He wanted to restore the closeness they had enjoyed before he risked asking her to marry him. The gap that had grown up between them needed a bridge for him to feel safe enough to cross.
‘You don’t need to ask.’
As he leaned down, Helgis burst into the room, closely followed by Ret.
‘Not again!’ complained Peri, shifting position to tuck her under his arm, his perfect moment spoiled, his bridge swept away in the flood of the boys’ entry. ‘Can’t you knock?’
Helgis looked entirely unrepentant. ‘You’ve got to come. Krital sent us to get you back into the palace, Rain. He doesn’t want you stuck out here.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’ asked Rain.
‘A big party of jettans and their men are approaching the city,’ explained Ret. ‘We think they’re coming to try and seize control.’
‘By force?’ Peri frowned.
‘Why else come marching in with weapons drawn?’ said Helgis.
Rain quickly ran through what had to be done to secure the foundry. ‘We’ll have to evacuate the forge and extinguish the fires. Give me a moment.’ She ran to the door, shouting for her father and Tobart.
Peri closed the shutters and picked up Rain’s workbag and cloak. ‘Come on, boys, let’s go.’
‘We should try talking first,’ suggested Hern. ‘Invite their representatives in and see if we can avoid a fight.’
The ruling council was meeting in the old throne room of the Master, among the marble columns fashioned into the shape of a grove of trees. The mess left by the rioters had been cleared and the chamber restored to its former glory. The throne, too big to steal, stood empty; the council sat instead around a long oval table brought in for their use. Rain had a seat at it, as did Hern, Conal, and Sly. But as their survival was the matter under debate, this session had been declared open to all interested parties, so Peri, Ret, her father, Timber, Mikel, and the other Falconers observed from the side of the room.
Krital lounged in his chair at the head of the table. ‘Why bother with talking? They won’t want to put themselves under the likes of us. Remember these pig-brains think we’re dung. I’ve got my men waiting. We can take them.’
‘But with the loss of how many?’ interjected Conal. ‘They’ve got over a thousand men with them. They must have been planning this for some time and pulled everyone together in hopes we’d give in to their superior numbers.’
‘We’ve enough food supplies to withstand a siege,’ said Sly, raising one possible course of action.
‘The wells are in good order,’ added Katia.
‘But we’ve not enough men to guard the entire circuit of the walls,’ said Peri. ‘Rolvint’s not a defendable city—it wasn’t built for that purpose. I’m with my father: let’s see what negotiation can get us.’
Krital flicked his council papers angrily. Rain could tell that he was impatient with making decisions this way. He’d prefer to stick with what he knew and that was force.
‘We wouldn’t lose anything, would we, general, if we tried talking?’ asked Rain.
‘I suppose not. Stinking jettan class—just like them to think they can walk back in as if they still owned the place.’
‘Then we must show them that they don’t. If we act like a responsible government, then they cannot claim that we aren’t needed. We’ll keep the people on our side.’
Krital rubbed his chin. ‘That’s a good point, fey lady. I hadn’t thought of that. The jettans can’t do anything if the city stands united against them.’
‘I haven’t heard anyone shouting for their return, have you?’ asked Hern drily.
‘The silence has been deafening,’ agreed Conal.
Krital slapped his papers. ‘That’s it then. I move that we get the ringleaders of that miserable lot in here and give them a choice: work with us under our authority or get lost. What do you think?’
A rumble of agreement resounded in the room.
Krital gestured to Conal. ‘Go get them, hunter. Take bird boy with you.’ Krital knew full well that Peri was in the room but so far had refused to look at him. ‘I’m sure the jettans will appreciate being invited in by a couple of scavengers.’
‘Will do,’ said Conal, rising from his chair.
‘Don’t forget to take your creatures with you. I think that would be a nice touch, true?’
After many protests, the jettans finally agreed to send in a deputation. They demanded that the city provide hostages in their place, so Conal and Murdle the fisherman were left behind as a guarantee of safe passage. The jettans were led into the council chamber by Kirn, whom Rain had last seen lording it over the workers on the summer palace site. The former chief adviser to the Master still wore his fancy slashed robes, today’s being an ostentatiously clean white silk edged with gold. He obviously hadn’t yet caught up with the news that this fashion had fallen out of favour. Markets were selling simply-cut gowns and tunics, a pattern chosen for being the exact opposite to the old style. Rain’s own dress in forest green, that she had slipped into after discarding her work-soiled tunic, exemplified the new taste, but something told her Kirn would not notice.
‘This is outrageous!’ the jettan declared, striding into the throne room as if he had a right to it. ‘You greet us with the impure and claim to be in charge. I have never heard anything more preposterous in my life!’
Rain, standing next to Krital at the head of the council table, feared that the former bandit would lose his temper, but he surprised her. ‘Who is this joker?’ he asked with mild amusement. ‘Anyone know?’
‘I think you’ll find he’s called Kirn. He’s the one who was in charge of the summer palace,’ whispered Rain as the jettan delegation scowled at the people gathered to see them.
‘Ah, a builder,’ Krital said in a carrying voice. ‘We need builders, don’t we, Hern?’
‘Aye. Lots of work for a man who knows his hammer from his chisel,’ agreed the falconer, cracking his knuckles.
‘Kirn the builder, and friends, welcome to the new Rolvint,’ announced Krital jovially. ‘As you can see, since you so hurriedly left us all to rot, we’ve made a few changes. We now have a ruling council and we are expanding our control over Magharna bit by bit, restoring order after the chaos you lot caused. My name’s General Krital. My fellow members are drawn from all the professions. No one gets a seat at our table unless they’ve got something to offer the new Magharna.’
‘It isn’t your Magharna, bandit!’ spluttered Kirn. ‘I have a thousand soldiers camped not far from your gates. You should be suing for mercy, not insulting me.’
Krital’s eyes turned hard. ‘You’ve got that wrong, Jettan. When you walked out on your responsibilities, you lost any claim to rule this country.’
Rain could sense the heat rising in the room. Krital did not have it in him to be a peace maker, and from the looks of it, neither did Kirn. She didn’t blame Ret for nudging Helgis and both of them slipping out of the room. The meeting was likely to turn ugly.
‘And what were you doing, eh, bandit?’ sneered Kirn. ‘I know exactly who and what you are. It was your thugs raiding our goods that got us into this mess in the first place!’
‘Yeah, and why were we out there? ’Cause you lot had booted us out of your precious city, telling us we were scum and of no use to anyone. We declared war on you and your sort when you gave us no choice. Then you fled and, well, that scum has done a better job of keeping things safe round here than you ever did. Ask the people who they want looking after them. My men aren’t saints, but at least they don’t run at the first sign of trouble.’
Kirn waved his arm at the throne, his sleeve wafting like a flurry of snow. ‘People? What have the people got to do with it? Rolvint is the Master. He is the nation.’
Krital was about to respond when a high voice spoke out from behind the throne.
‘I am glad you reali
ze that, Jettan Kirn.’ A boy stepped into sight, dressed in stunning robes of golden fabric and the white crystal crown of Magharna.
‘Master!’ gasped Kirn, his knees bending before he could think twice about it.
Rain managed not to smile. She knew that Ret had been hiding something from them all. He had concealed his robes of state and regalia throughout the crisis, only displaying them when he knew that they would be most needed.
‘I am gladdened to see my faithful subjects returning to the fold.’ Ret didn’t sound too convinced. ‘But you cannot be surprised that, during your regrettable absence, I have made some changes to how I run things.’
‘Of course not, Master. Just let me get rid of these bandits and scavengers for you and we can discuss what needs to be done.’
Ret swept his robes round in a practised gesture and took a seat on the empty throne.
‘Ah, Kirn, I see that you do not yet understand. The changes are that these bandits and scavengers, as you call them, are now my most trusted ministers. The jet-tan families proved sadly lacking in constancy and faith so I was obliged to find replacements.’
‘But Master!’
Ret’s expression conveyed every bit of scorn he felt for his old protectors. ‘Do you question my actions?’
‘No, of course, but—’
‘Did you not just say that I am the nation?’
‘Yes, I did, but—’
‘Then you should be asking for my mercy because just at the moment I’m feeling very angry with you all.’
‘Sire!’
‘You left me to starve in my empty shell of a palace. The only one who cared enough to come looking for me was a foreigner.’ Ret held out his hand to Rain. She took it and curtseyed. ‘The only ones to protect me were scavengers and bondsmen.’ Ret beckoned Peri and Mikel to his side. ‘Even my outcast bandits came to my aid when I asked them to restore peace for my people.’ He nodded regally to Krital, who appeared to be enjoying the show even if his memory of what had happened differed in some vital aspects.
‘But Master, you can’t—’
‘I can, and I will. Here are my orders: disband your men. Those that wish to enrol in my new army should present themselves to the general or one of his commanders. The jettan families are welcome to return to Rolvint but they must understand they have to earn their place like everyone else.’
Kirn looked confused. Nothing that he knew was the same. ‘Please think, sire. You are throwing away centuries of our traditions.’
Ret flashed a grin, a glimpse of the impish boy shining through. ‘Yes, and making new ones. The class system is no more. No one is impure.’ He rose. ‘The Master has spoken.’
Knowing it was best to quit while he was ahead, Ret walked from the room through a door Helgis held open for him.
‘Well, I … I—’ spluttered Kirn.
‘Yes, Jettan Kirn?’ gloated Krital. ‘It seems you’ve got your orders. In a few minutes, news will be spreading through the city that the Master is back. I imagine your men will hear the same. I can’t think they’d want to refuse a direct command.’
Kirn wasted no more time arguing when he knew he had lost. The delegation departed swiftly; though they muttered angrily, they were powerless now their authority had been trumped.
Krital waited for the double doors to close behind them before guffawing. ‘What a boy! Perhaps there’s more to this Master stuff than I thought. He did a damn good job, true? Call him back, someone.’
Rain went off in search of Ret, locating him by the sound of laughter as he and Helgis relished their victory. She found the two boys in a cellar hidden behind a secret door in one of the antechambers. The room was filled with treasures and several ceremonial robes, though she thought they had chosen the most impressive one for the Master’s appearance. Ret had done magnificently to preserve these priceless artefacts for the nation.
‘You’re wanted, your masterfulness,’ she said.
‘Coming!’ Ret called. ‘I’ll just lock up.’ He used the same pentagonal key to seal the room. ‘This is a secret, right? I told Helgis about it a while ago but I don’t want Krital to know where this is.’
‘Understood,’ said Rain. ‘Your faithful bandits do have serious flaws.’
He grinned. ‘Er … yes, they do. But I prefer them to two-faced cowards like Kirn.’
Rain took the boys back to the throne room, to find the room had been rearranged in their absence. The table had been moved so that the throne now stood at its head. Krital had shifted his seat to the right-hand place. The council stood up when Ret entered. Peri came over and looped his arm around Rain’s waist. ‘I’m impressed, Master. Welcome back,’ said Peri.
Krital gave a shallow bow, the first he’d ever performed. ‘Master, the ruling council would like to invite you to resume your throne.’
Ret was taken aback. ‘Me?’
‘I suppose we could ask someone else,’ Krital said drily, ‘but we decided we’d got used to the old one. What do you think?’
‘Really?’
Krital laughed. ‘Yeah, really.’
Hern spoke up. ‘It would not be quite like before, Ret, I mean, Master, you have to understand that. You’d be working with us. You’d be our figurehead. But the country needs someone it can rally round.’
‘And you’re it, sprout,’ said Peri in a low voice.
Ret turned to Rain. ‘Do you think I should?’
‘No question. I already told you that you’d make an excellent Master given the chance.’
Ret cast a speaking glance at Helgis who gave him a sober nod. ‘I’m behind you.’
Squaring his shoulders, Ret faced the council. ‘Then I accept.’
Shard 17
Apple Green
While the most stubborn jettans decided to return to their estates to moan about the loss of the old ways, the majority of their followers chose to join the new army. Krital finally found his vocation bullying his new recruits into shape, taking a bloodless revenge on them for all the years he had been harried by their kind into living on the margins of society. He resigned his leadership of the council to Ret, handing over Nighman and a vast pile of unopened files.
‘Here you are, Master,’ he said with evident satisfaction. ‘Power behind the throne, that’s me, not a ruddy scribe.’
Foreseeing himself rapidly drowning in responsibilities, Ret immediately appointed Hern as his deputy and delegated the task of sorting out the affairs of state to a hand-picked group of twelve men and women. Katia and Hern also relieved him of the paperwork, insisting that he be allowed time ‘to be a boy’ as they put it.
Helgis took more direct action by blacking his eye in a boisterous wrestling match in the throne room.
Hearing the commotion from his office where he was working with Conal on the police patrols, Peri took Ret with him to his quarters to treat the injury.
‘Best thing for that is ice, but we don’t have any,’ Peri admitted, putting a cold cloth on the eye instead.
‘We will do soon. The looters left the door open on the ice house but it wasn’t damaged,’ said Ret. ‘Helgis and I checked this morning.’
‘I thought Tutor Nighman was supposed to be giving you both lessons.’
‘Yes, well … ’
‘Have you become familiar yet with my father’s application of a wooden spoon to the top of a head?’
‘No. He wouldn’t. I’m Master.’
‘He would. To him, you’ll always be Ret first.’
Thinking about that, Ret smiled. ‘Good.’
Holding the cloth in place, Ret wandered over to Rogue, sleeping in his niche in the corner of the room. He ran his finger lightly over the falcon’s breast feathers. ‘So, Peri, when are you going to marry Rain?’
‘W-what?’ Peri dropped the bandage he was putting back in his falconer’s bag.
‘Don’t tell me you aren’t thinking about it. The pair of you are so soppy when you’re together, Helgis and I are a bit fed up. We talked ab
out it and decided that if you get married, you can start acting normally. We won’t have to worry about walking in on you stealing kisses from her and all that icky stuff.’
Peri wasn’t so sure about that.
Ret folded his arms and leant back against the wall, his bruised eye a strange contrast to his silken robes. ‘You’d better hurry up because her father is talking about taking her home and that cousin of hers is hanging around her all the time. He told your mother that they’re unofficially engaged.’
‘He did what!’
‘I heard him, last night at supper. Slimy goat. Even your mother didn’t sound too pleased.’
‘Yes, I think she’s finally forgiven Rain for letting me shoot her.’ Katia had relented now that she no longer saw Rain as a threat to her son.
‘Oh come on, Peri! I couldn’t bear it if Rain married him just because you were too slow to ask her. He’d take her back to Holt and I want her here.’
‘We all want her here.’
‘I don’t understand you. Why aren’t you at the forge? That other man is. And she’s started on the first of my windows for the summer palace. You should at least go and look.’
Peri practically ran across the city to reach Rain’s workshop. He had no rational explanation for why he felt such a sense of urgency. Ret had purposely spurred him on, Peri knew that, but he felt impelled to settle this either way today. Rain liked him, that was plain, but he worried that she didn’t love him enough to give up her old life.
If that was the case, he’d offer to go with her instead. She shouldn’t be the one to make all the sacrifices.
Uncharacteristically ruffled, like one of his birds on a gusty day, Peri arrived outside the forge. He ran his hand over his hair and straightened his tunic, then walked in.
The work had finished for the afternoon. The apprentices were cleaning up the foundry, chatting happily. Torrent sat in their midst, peeling the rind off an apple as he smiled at their tall tales.
‘Where’s Rain?’ Peri asked.
‘Ah, the falconer,’ said Torrent. ‘I want a word with you.’
‘Could you just give me a few minutes with Rain first, sir?’ Peri edged towards her office, guessing that was where she would be.
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