Warrior of Golmeira

by Marianne Ratcliffe

  ‘I’ll do that,’ Brutila snarled. Fester jumped back as if she’d slapped him. She undressed Anara swiftly and efficiently, screening her modesty as best she could as she helped her pull the thin smock over her head.

  ‘Thank you, Brutila,’ Anara whispered gratefully.

  ‘Much better!’ Rastran said with a cruel grin. ‘You were right, Brutila. Zastra will come right into my trap.’

  He departed, snapping his fingers to the twins, who scurried after him like the trained pups they were. Anara explored her ruined hair with her fingers.

  ‘Next time Rastran displays an urge to kill me, I beg you will not intervene.’

  ‘Don’t you want to live?’

  ‘I would rather die than be the bait that brings Zastra into danger.’ For the first time, Anara’s composure fractured.

  ‘How can you bear it so quietly?’

  ‘The only thing in my power is to deny Rastran the pleasure of seeing he has hurt me. At one time, you would have enjoyed my humiliation, Brutila. But not today, I think.’

  Brutila felt an odd sensation at the back of her eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I enjoyed giving pain. Because if it was happening to someone else, that meant it wasn’t happening to me.’ Could that be true? My cruelty was born not of strength and power, but of cowardice? She turned to leave, but as she reached the door she stopped and looked down at the cracks between the flagstones.

  ‘You have more true nobility in one fingernail than Rastran has in his entire body.’

  Chapter Sixty-eight

  Golmer Castle rose above the landscape, its grey battlements dusted with snow. A curtain of sleet drifted down from a leaden sky as Zastra led her army towards the outer ramparts. Nearly half of Ixendred’s soldiers had chosen to join her, and together with the Sendorans and Kyrgs they made a formidable force. The portcullis was down and the ramparts patrolled by a mixture of Golmeiran soldiers and black ravens. The defenders were spread thinly along the wall. With the Kyrgs gone and the losses suffered at Uden’s Teeth, the castle’s defences were severely depleted.

  Rafadal was waiting for them with a few thousand of his people. Zastra had sent Findar and Kastara to fetch him, riding two migaradons they had seized from Ixendred. Findar’s ability to communicate with animals allowed him to control both creatures. The ko-yamacha had taken over Highcastle Forest, putting up lastic tents in some of the largest elmwoods.

  ‘None of us feel comfortable sleeping on the ground, especially in such cold weather. I hope you do not mind?’

  Zastra clasped his hand. ‘I am grateful that you are here,’ she said. ‘How is Bedrun?’

  ‘Thank you for asking. We had a healthy baby boy, thank the Mother. She sends her love.’

  ‘I am sensible of your sacrifice in being here, at such a time.’

  ‘Ko-yamacha repay our debts,’ Rafadal returned. ‘Besides, she has good company in her mother.’

  ‘Bodel! She found you? After all this time?’

  ‘Indeed. She had tried Southland and the Far Isles before finally thinking of Aliterra. She is a fine woman.’ Zastra thought his smile seemed a little forced.

  ‘But not afraid to give her opinion,’ she offered.

  ‘Yes!’ Rafadal nodded ruefully. ‘I have noticed that.’

  ‘Has there been any movement from the castle? Any sign of Rastran?’

  ‘Only the migaradons. He must have called back all those that remain in Golmeira. We have counted five, working in shifts. They flew out to have a look at us but our vulyx soon chased them away. It is a shame you asked us not to engage. Our youngsters are eager to try out the crossbows you gave us.’

  ‘What’s Rastran waiting for?’ Kylen asked. ‘He must have known we were coming. I would have attacked the ko-yamacha while he had the advantage of numbers. Instead he waits until we are at full strength.’

  ‘He’s waiting for me,’ said Zastra quietly. Somewhere inside those walls, her mother was being held a prisoner. As soon as Ithgol planted Zastra’s standard, the gates to the main castle opened and a horse and rider emerged, carrying a purple flag crossed with white.

  ‘They offer parlay,’ said Kylen.

  ‘Perhaps Rastran wishes to surrender,’ Jelgar remarked. ‘I have heard of his cowardice.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ Zastra nodded at Ithgol. He raised their own parlay flag. The rider reached the portcullis. Zastra rode forward, flanked by Kylen and Jelgar, with Ithgol, Myka and the twins just behind. She recognised the grey-haired woman, the white scar on her cheek unmistakable.

  ‘Grand Marl Rastran grants you safe passage under parlay,’ said Brutila brusquely. ‘Follow me.’

  ‘Rastran can come out here if he wishes to plead for his life,’ said Kylen. Brutila kept her pale grey eyes fixed on Zastra.

  ‘Unacceptable. If Zastra wishes to see her mother alive, she must come into the castle, alone and unarmed.’

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ Kylen snorted. ‘For all we know, Anara could be dead already.’

  ‘She lives,’ Brutila snapped. Zastra looked at Myka for confirmation.

  ‘She is telling the truth,’ he said.

  ‘My mother showed you great kindness in the Northern Wastes,’ Zastra said bitterly. ‘You repaid her with betrayal.’

  ‘I did not plan what happened.’

  ‘But you did nothing to stop it.’

  Brutila stared at her blankly. ‘We waste words. Do you come, or do you sentence your mother to death?’

  ‘I will come.’

  ‘Zastra, no!’ Kylen protested. ‘It’s a trap, it has to be.’

  ‘Even Rastran would not violate parlay,’ Jelgar said.

  ‘I will come,’ repeated Zastra, ‘but under the tradition of parlay, I have the right to bring two envoys with me.’

  ‘Very well. Choose your companions.’ Brutila made a gesture with her hand. With a harsh grating sound, the portcullis was winched upwards. Zastra’s horse whickered at the noise. She pulled her mount around in a tight circle.

  ‘Kastara and Myka will come with me.’ Kylen and Ithgol began to protest and even Findar looked put out, but Zastra held up her hand.

  ‘Anara’s life depends on what happens now. I need Myka to tell me truth from lies and Kastara is the only one who can protect us if Rastran tries something.’

  ‘And if he does?’ Kylen asked.

  ‘Then I’m sure you will mount an appropriate response.’

  Kylen’s eyes glinted.

  ‘Count on it,’ she said.

  Zastra rode through the open gateway, flanked by Myka and Kastara. Myka glanced back as the portcullis clanged down behind them.

  ‘Back straight, Myka,’ Zastra said, as they followed Brutila up the sloping path towards the castle. ‘Show them we are not afraid.’

  ‘But I’m very much afraid,’ Myka muttered.

  Soldiers and black ravens flowed down from the outer ramparts to line their path. Zastra looked as many in the eye as possible, trying to gauge the mood. From those who dared meet her gaze, she sensed curiosity more than aggression. They were halfway to the castle when an elegant figure appeared on the battlements above the main gateway. Rastran. He wore a thick fur cloak whose breast was embroidered with a caralyx. Next to him were Fester and Florian and between them stood Anara. Her mother’s hair had been shorn and she wore nothing but a sleeveless smock. Zastra almost forgot her own instructions as an iron fist gripped her heart and squeezed.

  ‘So, cousin, you are stupid enough to come to Golmer Castle,’ Rastran said, in a loud voice that carried over the crowd.

  ‘I offer you one chance,’ Zastra shouted back. ‘Open the gates and avoid unnecessary bloodshed.’

  ‘But I’ve already won, you stupid, trusting fool!’ Rastran said gleefully. He pointed down at her. ‘Kill her!’ he cried. ‘Kill the traitor!’ A doubtful murmur ran through the crowd that surrounded Zastra and her companions, even as they drew swords and readied their crossbows.

  ‘What is this tr
eachery?’ Brutila exclaimed. Yet no one seemed to want to take the first shot. Zastra made a point of looking unconcerned, resting her hands casually on the pommel of her saddle

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ roared Rastran. ‘Obey your grand marl. Launch the migaradons.’

  ‘He violates parlay,’ Brutila dropped her purple flag to the ground and turned to Zastra. ‘You should go.’

  Zastra did not move.

  ‘Kastara, you know what to do,’ she said quietly. Still the soldiers hesitated. Zastra addressed both the crowd around her and those above the castle gates.

  ‘Fellow Golmeirans, I speak directly to you. No one needs to die today. I give you my word that if you lay down your arms, no harm will come to you.’

  ‘Shoot her!’ Rastran screeched. Zastra continued over the interruption.

  ‘I come to reclaim the throne that is rightfully mine. But more than that, I offer change. In my years of exile, I have lived among you as a poor farmer and as an unwilling conscript. I have seen how you suffer, how little power you have to shape your own lives. I pledge that in future, things will be different.’

  ‘Florian, what are you waiting for? Mindweavers, force them to obey!’ Finally, there was movement. Five vast shapes struggled into the overcast sky. Soldiers turned towards her, their eyes blank and raised their weapons. Zastra forced herself not to flinch as arrows and knives flew towards her. The deadly shower was deflected harmlessly away by Kastara’s shield.

  ‘You cannot harm me,’ she said, as disbelief and awe spread through the castle defenders. ‘The choice you have is clear. Follow Rastran, a man so lacking in honour he would violate parlay, or choose me, your rightful grand marl. I command you to open these gates!’

  Behind her, Findar’s migaradons began to tear a hole in the outer ramparts. The guttural death rattle of ten thousand Kyrgs spilled across the grounds. Around her, swords and crossbows clattered to the ground as the defenders kneeled before her. A few lieutenants tried to urge their soldiers to stand and fight, but they were largely ignored. A wave of vulyx soared overhead, led by Bekka. They headed towards Rastran’s migaradons, crossbows twanging. The vast wooden gates to the main castle rattled furiously against their iron hinges. It sounded like a fight was going on inside. Rastran and the twins disappeared, dragging Anara with them, as the vulyx and their riders dealt swiftly with the migaradons. Zastra waved urgently to Bekka. Urbek’s daughter landed next to her.

  ‘I need to get inside the castle,’ she said. Bekka jumped off Kiri and handed Zastra her crossbow.

  ‘Thank you,’ Zastra said, surprised that Bekka did not protest.

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ Kastara insisted. ‘She’s my mother too.’

  Bekka put her fingers in her mouth and whistled. Another vulyx landed. Zastra and Kastara mounted the large birds and launched themselves into the sky as Kyrgs and Sendorans poured through the gap the migaradons had torn in the outer ramparts. Those few remaining defenders who had not surrendered turned and fled.

  Zastra’s stomach lurched as Kiri soared up and over the castle walls. She scanned the courtyard below, just in time to see Rastran and the twins disappear through the door at the northeast corner, dragging Anara behind them. Kiri squawked in alarm as a migaradon swept alongside. Zastra raised her crossbow, but the rider waved furiously. It was Findar. Together they dived down onto the courtyard and alighted.

  ‘Follow me,’ said Zastra.

  Chapter Sixty-nine

  They entered the northeast door only to find the corridor empty.

  ‘This way.’ Findar led them towards one of the side doors into the great hall. ‘I can sense four minds inside.’

  ‘Wait!’ cried Kastara, as Findar laid his hand on the door handle. ‘Why isn’t Rastran screening?’

  ‘He wants us to follow,’ Zastra said, pulling to a stop. The sound of cries and clattering of swords and scythals from the courtyard told them the gates had been breached and that some of the defenders had chosen to stand and fight. Or perhaps they were being forced to fight by mindweaving. A grey-haired figure ran down the corridor towards them. Zastra aimed the crossbow that Bekka had given her at Brutila’s chest.

  ‘It’s a trap,’ Brutila gasped.

  ‘We figured that out already.’ Zastra did not lower the bow.

  ‘Let me help.’

  ‘Why should I believe you want to help? After everything you’ve done?’

  ‘No one could spend time with your mother and not learn… to love her.’

  ‘You can’t expect us to trust you.’

  Brutila gave a dry laugh. ‘I suppose not. We’re wasting time.’ Before Zastra could react, she had plunged through the door. Zastra took a step after her.

  ‘Zastra, wait,’ Kastara pleaded. ‘Let me go. Rastran will snap your neck as soon as you go in. I can protect myself and it will be easier if I don’t have to worry about you.’

  ‘She’s right,’ said Findar. ‘Hate to say it, but she’s right.’

  Zastra placed a hand on Kastara’s shoulder.

  ‘When did you get to be so smart?’

  ‘It’s about time you realised,’ Kastara said, with only the smallest hint of a pout.

  ‘Be careful, Kastara. I lost you for all those years. I couldn’t bear to lose you again.’

  Kastara eased herself through the door. She remembered the great hall well from her time as an unproven. At the far end, illuminated by a square column of light that filtered in from one of the skylights in the high ceiling, Rastran sat on an elaborate throne, one leg thrown negligently over the other. At first, she thought it was ivory, but when she drew closer and realised what it was, she pulled up in horror. The throne was made entirely of human bones, with femurs for arms and empty hip sockets making a macabre scrollwork. A row of skulls leered at her from behind Rastran’s head. Rastran held one end of a rope, the other was wrapped around Anara’s wrists. Brutila had almost reached them. The door behind Kastara slammed shut. The iron key turned in the lock and then flew into Rastran’s hand. There was no sign of Florian but the metalmoving suggested he must be close by. Fester too, no doubt. She set her protective bubble, wishing she knew how to shape it into something other than a simple wall or dome. As it was, if she tried to extend it around Anara, Brutila and Rastran would be inside it as well.

  ‘Why, it’s the little girl from the bakery,’ Rastran said with a sneer. ‘Begone little girl. Fetch your sister. It’s her I want to speak to.’

  ‘You can deal with me,’ Kastara said, trying to keep her voice steady.

  Rastran licked his lips. ‘With pleasure.’ He narrowed his eyes. Kastara flinched, half expecting her bones to snap. Nothing happened and Rastran raised an eyebrow.

  ‘It seems you are more powerful than you look.’

  ‘Little girls often are,’ she returned.

  Rastran seemed unconcerned by this setback and Kastara was painfully aware that her mother was still exposed. Fortunately, Rastran had other things on his mind.

  ‘Where’s Zastra?’

  ‘She’s not coming.’ Kastara walked towards him. She needed to get between him and Anara. Brutila drew her sword. Whose side was she on? Rastran opened his mouth and addressed the balcony.

  ‘Zastra!’ he roared. ‘I know you’re here.’

  The balcony made no answer.

  ‘By refusing to confront me, cousin, you condemn your mother to death!’ Rastran cried. ‘Now, Florian!’

  Something heavy sailed over Kastara’s head. A ballista spear. It was past her before she could react.

  ‘No!’ she screamed. Brutila whirled round and stepped in front of Anara, taking the heavy spear full into her chest.

  ‘Brutila!’ Anara cried, clutching the grey-haired woman as she sank to her knees, blood bubbling from her mouth. Oddly, she was smiling, her scar extending the look of surprised delight across her whole face.

  ‘I feel it at last,’ she whispered, looking up at Anara. ‘Joy…’

  As soon as the door sl
ammed shut, Zastra regretted her decision to let Kastara go. She ran towards the narrow passages of the outer liden. Findar hurried after her.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘The liden accesses all floors of the castle. If we can get up onto the balcony, we may be able to see what’s going on. If there’s a way to help Kastara, we must try, broken necks or otherwise.’

  Findar rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. ‘Otherwise, I hope,’ he said, but followed her anyway.

  The liden was a series of narrow passages and ladders that lay between the outer wall of the castle and the rooms inside. Zastra felt a familiar sense of panic as she entered the darkness, but she pushed through the feeling with grim determination. She found a wooden ladder to the floor above. A large metal canister blocked the exit from the liden but she pushed it to one side impatiently and broke out onto the balcony in time to hear Rastran’s chilling threat and Kastara’s scream, followed by the awful thud of spear hitting flesh. Rushing to the edge of the balcony she saw Brutila slumped in Anara’s arms. Kastara was halfway across the hall. She looked small and helpless, but Zastra knew she was far from that. A hail of metal arrowheads whipped towards her, driven from the opposite balcony. She grabbed Findar and ducked behind the wooden panels that stood beneath the balcony rail. The panel juddered as the arrowheads tore into the wood.

  ‘You all right?’ she asked. Findar nodded. A stray splinter had drawn blood on his cheek, but he was otherwise unharmed. Zastra lifted her crossbow and fired blindly over the balcony rail, towards the origin of the arrowheads. There was a cry and she risked peeping above the wooden panel. Florian was tugging at a shaft that stuck out of his shoulder. She set another bolt and fired. Florian put out his hand as if to divert her bolt, but her aim was true. The mindweaver’s eyes widened in surprise as it plunged between his ribs.

  ‘I guess metalmoving doesn’t work on migaradon scales,’ she said grimly.