‘We need to talk about the future,’ Thorlberd continued. Rastran’s ears pricked up. Perhaps his father was going do the sensible thing and abdicate. His chest swelled. He was more than ready. Thorlberd frowned. ‘We need to take back the initiative. You recall Strinverl’s expedition into Aliterra?’
‘Another failure,’ Rastran drawled. ‘You seem to be having quite a few of them recently.’
‘You should choose your words more carefully,’ Thorlberd said. ‘Never admit failure. Besides, the Aliterran mission achieved its primary objective.’
‘The yellowsap?’ Rastran could barely contain his eagerness. He was finally going to find out what was so important about the Aliterran face paint.
‘Indeed. Its properties have proven… interesting. It is time to give Yldred more responsibility. Your brother deserves a chance to prove himself. I need to know that you will support him.’
Thorlberd will never let you be Grand Marl. Zastra’s taunt still haunted Rastran. He’d made her pay for it, although not nearly enough. He felt a strong pressure on his mind and had a moment of anxiety. When he was younger, his father had always been able to break through his defences. But then he remembered the twins, adding their powers to his.
‘Have you been working on your blocking?’ Thorlberd frowned. ‘Or…’ he tailed away, but not before Rastran had seen the uncertainty on his face. He’s wondering if he’s lost more than just his eyesight. Afraid that his powers might be failing too. If Rastran had been a different kind of man, he might have felt pity. Instead he grinned, secure in the knowledge that his blind father couldn’t see he was being mocked. The tables were turning.
‘What kind of parent steals the private thoughts of his child?’
Thorlberd launched himself from his chair. Rastran reached for his mindmoving power. With two sharp pops, he broke his father’s shinbones. Thorlberd crashed to his knees. His face creased with shock.
‘That’s better!’ Rastran clapped his hands together. ‘My father finally showing me the respect I deserve.’
‘Rastran, what are you doing?’
‘Funny, that’s exactly what I was going to ask you. Were you really thinking of promoting the runt over me?’
Thorlberd tried to get to his feet, but with another mindweaving burst, Rastran snapped his left thighbone. Thorlberd crashed forward onto his broad chest.
‘Guards!’ he bellowed. His cry bounced emptily around the walls of the small chamber. Rastran watched in amusement as his father began to drag himself towards the door.
‘You should be proud of me at last, father. You always talk about the importance of planning. While you were away, I found out which of the castle guards can be bribed. I probed their minds for their dirty little secrets. No one is coming to help you.’
He reached out his hands and joined with Fester and Florian.
‘Time to see how strong your defences are.’
Yet crippled as he was, Thorlberd cast a wall of iron to protect his mind. There was no way through.
‘Fine, keep your secrets. I imagine your scientists will be eager to tell me about the yellowsap weapon. I don’t need you.’
‘Rastran. Stop this, I command you!’ Yet there was fear at last in those familiar features.
‘You taught me not to tolerate failure, Father. I’m only following your teachings.’
With a final, brutal twist of his power, Rastran snapped Thorlberd’s neck.
Chapter Forty-five
It had taken a great deal of work to set Uden’s Teeth to rights. In the immediate aftermath of battle, Zastra had spent three days in bed as her body recovered from the punishment she had put it through. Yet as soon as her leg was sufficiently healed, she threw herself into work, desperate to fill the aching emptiness inside her. She oversaw the harvesting of the crops and the repair of the fortress. She instructed the blacksmiths to forge a vast iron chain, to be strung across the channel through the Spur where it would rip out the hull of any vessel that tried to pass. Now Uden’s Teeth had been discovered, it was imperative they control access to the Serene Sea. Vingrod designed a pair of large winches to raise and lower the chain, allowing their own ships to pass. A stone tower was built either side of the channel to house the winches, each manned by a dozen pure-blooded Sendorans.
New catapults were constructed to replace those destroyed in the battle. The Daydream and Mystique lay at the bottom of the bay, but five of Thorlberd’s ships had been abandoned near the southern landing site and somehow the Obala had been kept afloat. Every ship except the Wind of Golmeira needed repairs and carpenters were in great demand. Zastra saw Dalbric working on a new bowsprit for the Obala as she did her daily rounds. The tip of his tongue stuck out as he concentrated, just as it had when she and Findar had lived with him and Etta. He stopped and smiled at her as she approached, but she nodded tersely and moved on. She couldn’t bring herself to make idle chatter, not even with Dalbric. She needed to keep busy. The moment she stopped working, she was transported back to the deck of the flagship, the metal spear bursting through her ribcage. The most difficult task was dealing with the dead. Waylin’s drowned body had been recovered from the bay, along with many others. Ithgol and Hylaz returned from Aliterra, bringing news that Myshka and Xhoyal had returned to their lands to join an open rebellion against the rule of the druin-ji.
‘What about Justyn? And the others?’ Zastra asked anxiously. Ithgol fiddled with the hilt of his scythal.
‘What is it?’ Nerika snapped. Hylaz met her gaze.
‘Lorzan is bringing the youngsters, but… there’s no easy way to say this. Justyn’s wound was too severe.’
‘He’s dead?’ Nerika whispered. Hylaz nodded miserably. Nerika turned on Zastra.
‘You left him there to die.’ Zastra turned away, knowing there were no words that could ease Nerika’s pain.
‘Polina is right, you’re a cold bitch!’ Nerika said bitterly as Ithgol eased her away. Yet still Zastra felt nothing.
She saw little of Kylen. Her self-imposed list of duties kept them apart and Kylen, too, was busy, overseeing the funeral rites of the many Sendorans who had fallen. Zastra was grateful. Even catching a glimpse of Kylen had a strange effect on her, one that was in danger of upsetting the fragile balance she struggled to maintain. Each day, it felt like she was walking a tightrope where only a firm concentration on the far end of the rope would keep her from falling. All the while, guilt clogged her spirit like a stomach full of undigested meat.
Every fallen Golmeiran and Far Islander was given a burning ceremony. Dobery’s was the last. A huge crowd gathered around his pyre to pay their respects. Zastra had spoken the ritual words of farewell so many times that she knew them by heart, but when the time came to speak them over Dobery’s pyre, her throat closed up. Polina stepped forward and spoke the words instead.
We say farewell to our dear friend as he begins his long journey back to the stars. Let the ashes from his body feed new life, let the warmth of his soul kindle the fires of our affection. Let the knowledge and wisdom of his life be passed down through the generations. He will never be gone as long as we remember him. He will never be lost as long as we offer him space in our hearts.
To Zastra, the words felt as empty as she did. In the still air, the smoke from the pyre formed a grey column, straight as a chimney. She did not notice the other mourners drifting away to return to their tasks, leaving her alone before the smouldering pile. Images appeared in her mind; Dobery in his formal gold robes, tugging impatiently against the thick fabric, his warm smile as he set aside a book to greet her. She stood until every ember had faded into ash. Only then could she admit that he was truly gone. She felt a touch on her arm.
‘Come with me,’ Kylen said softly, leading Zastra to the jetty where a yacht was waiting. Zastra noticed with surprise that it was dark. Where had the daylight gone?
‘Get in.’
‘Where are we going?’
Kylen gave no answer. She shoved them off and s
teered away from the lights of the bay and out into the Serene Sea. They were in the last days of summer, and the cloudless evening sky took on the pale, silver-blue hue of an oyster shell. Uden’s Teeth rose as a black shadow behind them. Kylen furled the sail and let the yacht drift.
‘Hear that?’ she asked. Zastra listened, but aside from the gentle lapping of the calm waters against the prow, there was nothing. She gave a wry grin, knowing what Kylen meant.
‘Yes. Wonderful, isn’t it?’
‘No Nerika to find fault with everything you say or do,’ Kylen remarked.
‘Or Yelina, demanding a vote on something ridiculous.’
Kylen gave a small laugh.
‘When you were away, she asked for a vote to limit the maximum length for a washing line. Apparently, someone nearly garrotted themselves on one as they walked past a cabin.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I told her we had more important matters to deal with than idiots who don’t look where they’re going.’
‘Quite.’ Yet Zastra’s fleeting amusement disappeared when she thought of those who would no longer disturb her peace. Justyn with his practical advice, Dobery’s welcoming smile, and poor, damaged Orika. The silence no longer seemed comforting and instead turned cold and heavy.
‘How’s Zax?’ she asked with a shiver. Kylen’s dark outline rose from the stern and moved towards her. She felt something soft and warm drop onto her shoulders. A goat’s wool blanket.
‘Surprisingly chipper. He discovered that he can still fight. He lost half an ear in the battle and he’s ridiculously pleased. It does make a good scar.’
Zastra pulled the soft blanket around herself.
‘Why did you bring me out here? Don’t tell me it was just to get away from Yelina and the others.’
The little boat tilted as Kylen sat down beside her.
‘I thought you might need to talk. You don’t have to carry this burden alone, Zastra.’
‘Who will help me? You?’ Zastra didn’t hide her bitterness. Beside her, Kylen stiffened.
‘I… I don’t expect you to forgive my behaviour. The truth is…’ Kylen took a deep breath. ‘The truth is I needed to prove I wasn’t your puppet.’ She related what had happened with Borez, including the threats he had made to Zastra’s life. ‘I may have overdone things,’ she admitted. ‘I was never very good at acting a part.’
‘You were certainly convincing,’ said Zastra. ‘I thought you hated me.’
‘I’m so sorry. I should have told you.’
‘Yes, you should. I felt… very much alone.’
‘I don’t blame you for being upset. Yet it meant a lot that you still asked Pitwyn and the others to help me.’
‘Our people’s safety was more important than my feelings.’
‘That’s exactly why…’ Kylen paused and started again. ‘That’s why people love you. You put others before yourself, every time.’
Zastra wished she could see Kylen’s expression, but it was too dark. The Sendoran continued in a low, strangled voice. ‘Zastra, unless my people believe I hold their interests above everything else, I will lose them. And that means you would lose them too.’
Zastra sighed deeply.
‘When I was a girl, I used to love reading the Legends of the Warriors. All those glorious tales of battles and heroism, but now I know the truth of it, I wish I could burn every copy. War is brutal.’
‘My father used to say hardship and pain were a gift. He said you never truly understood your own character, or those of your friends, until you had been through adversity.’
‘Right now, part of me wants to take this boat and leave everything behind. What does that say about my character?’
‘Only that you’re human. We both know you won’t run away. But you need to stop burying your pain. If you don’t let it out, it will tear you apart. Trust me, Zastra, I know.’
Zastra shuddered.
‘I deserve to feel pain. Polina was right, Orika wasn’t fit to be placed into battle.’
‘Leadership is a series of impossible choices. Very few have the strength to make them. Even fewer have your knack of making the right ones.’
‘Every time someone dies because of one of my decisions, I feel as if I Iose part of myself.’
‘I know what you mean. It’s like the edge of your soul peels away, layer by layer.’
Zastra was surprised to hear such an admission from Kylen. The Sendoran had never seemed the sort to weigh up the costs of her decisions, or worry about them afterwards.
‘What am I turning into, Kylen? A cold-hearted killer? All the men and women on those ships…’
‘They were the enemy. You did what needed to be done.’
‘You make it sound so simple.’
‘We both know it’s not.’
Kylen took Zastra’s hand in hers. The warmth of the Sendoran’s touch tugged at the emptiness inside.
‘I know what strength it takes. And I know that you have such strength within you.’
‘I’m tired of losing people I love.’ Zastra admitted. ‘I can’t bear it any more. I need to stop caring if I’m to continue leading this rebellion. It’s just too painful.’
‘Don’t ever say that.’ Kylen pulled her close. Zastra felt the lift and fall of her ribcage even through the blanket. ‘Don’t give up on love.’
Zastra groaned.
‘You can let it out, Zastra. There is no shame in grief.’
‘I… I can’t.’
‘You can.’
‘I don’t know how.’
‘You just need to give yourself permission.’
Her words released Zastra’s grief in great choking sobs and she wept until she had no tears left.
Chapter Forty-six
They stayed away for two days. The endless beauty of the ocean soothed Zastra’s wounded spirit, assisted by Kylen’s attentive care. But when the sun began to set on the second day, she felt her responsibilities tug at her. With a sigh, she took the tiller and set a course for Uden’s Teeth.
‘Time to become the cold-hearted bitch everyone needs me to be,’ she said. Kylen squeezed her shoulder. Zastra took courage from it, relieved to have her friend back. They had drifted north and their route back to Krysfera took them past Orika’s Island, which was currently being used as a prison. Over three hundred men and women had surrendered to Kylen on the beach, a dozen black ravens among them. They couldn’t risk keeping so many mindweavers near the general population and so Zastra had ordered them to be taken to the island that she insisted be named after Orika. It had a groundwater spring and the prisoners had been provided with a few cords of wood, a fire-ring and some fishing nets. With the mussel beds and blooms of seaweed that surrounded the island, they would not starve, but a more permanent solution was needed. There were other issues too, that she had neglected. Thorlberd was weakened, which provided an opportunity to be exploited. Yet their own losses had been significant. The Sendorans, in particular, had lost many experienced soldiers in their valiant defence of the southern landing site. Kastara and Findar raced onto the jetty to meet them.
‘Where have you been?’ Findar asked. ‘We’ve been worried.’
‘There were things I needed to tell Zastra,’ Kylen said, ‘without prying eyes and ears around us.’
‘We’ve had word from Rafadal,’ Kastara interjected. ‘Thorlberd is dead.’
They had established a line of communication from the Makhana Forest to the Serene Sea via a relay of vulyx. Visiting Golmeiran healers had brought Rafadal the news.
Zastra left the beach, heading up the slopes of the large mountain. She needed solitude in which to think. With Rastran in charge, things would get worse and quickly. Yet a direct attack on Golmeira was still suicidal. She examined the problem from every angle she could think of and by the evening, a plan began to form in her mind. Initially, she shrank from it as it meant putting more lives at risk. Yet the more she examined it, the more it seemed like their only chan
ce. When she returned to the cabin, Findar and Kastara were asleep. She roused them. Kastara made no complaint as Zastra handed her a cup of steaming chala. The battle had changed them all, but Kastara more than most.
‘Whassmatter?’ her sister asked with a yawn.
‘I need you to fetch some people and bring them here. Quietly, and with no fuss. Then I’ll explain.’
Zastra watched as Polina and Nerika filed into the cabin. Two women she admired and respected. Two women who, right now, could barely bring themselves to speak to her. Nerika wore the dazed appearance of someone who had recently been in a deep sleep while Polina contrived to be as neat and elegant as ever, giving no sign she had even been to bed. Kastara and Findar returned with Kylen, Myka and Ithgol.
‘What’s going on?’ Nerika snapped. ‘What’s so important that you demand our presence in the middle of the night?’
Zastra held up her hand. ‘I apologise for the secrecy, but we all know we have a traitor on Uden’s Teeth.’
Nerika glared at Myka and Polina. ‘Is this some sort of loyalty test?’
‘I have no need for tests. Everyone in this room, I trust absolutely. Even you, Nerika.’
‘More fool you,’ Nerika muttered.
Zastra raised an eyebrow. ‘Please. We may disagree on occasion, but we all work towards a common purpose.’
‘Really?’ Nerika snapped. ‘Thorlberd’s dead, so your parents are avenged. You, at least, have got what you want.’
‘That’s not true, Nerika. This has never been about revenge for me. What I want is a better deal for the ordinary people of Golmeira and a free Sendor.’ She looked to Findar and Kastara. ‘And I want those I love to have the chance to live without constant fear of death. I am not giving up.’
‘No matter how many lives are sacrificed?’ Polina asked. Zastra turned to her.
‘I know you’re hurting. We all are. I accept full responsibility for the consequences of my decisions. For what happened to Orika and to Justyn. Every day, I live with the pain of their deaths.’ Literally, in Orika’s case. ‘But if we want their sacrifice to count for something, we must move forward, not look back. I will need your full support. If you can no longer give it, I will step down as leader.’
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