The Second God

by Pauline M. Ross

  “Because of your magic,” Cal said. “Kyra, it must be to do with the magic in Arran’s blood. Can you see anything in that?”

  “I’ll look,” Mother said, taking hold of Arran’s hand again.

  When I walked across the room to refill my wine glass, Cal followed me. “Working out all right, is it? Apart from this oddity, I mean.”

  “Yes, it’s fine. It’s good.”

  “Ly’s changed,” Cal said quietly. “Look at him, with his hand on Arran’s shoulder like that. He never used to do things like that. You and Arran were the ones who held hands and touched, and Ly was always – apart, somehow.”

  “He’s not apart any longer. We are – together, all three of us.”

  “Ah,” Cal said, as if he understood, but I doubted that he really did. The kind of union I shared with Ly and Arran was not easy for outsiders to understand.

  Mother shook her head again, and leaned back with a sigh. “I can see that it’s magic, somehow, but I can’t connect to it. Somehow it repels my own magic. So I think whatever it is that ails you, Arran, is a matter for the Clanfolk. You’re beyond my ability to help.”

  ~~~~~

  We flew back to the Clan village in thoughtful mood. We were no further forward with Arran’s trouble, and there was no good news from Kingswell about the golden army, in fact no news at all. Nothing had been heard from either Greenstone Ford or Rinnfarr Gap. It made me uneasy. So many disciplined soldiers on the move, and not that far to the east of us. But I supposed there was little we could do about it except wait and watch and guard the border constantly.

  At the evening meal, Ly said, “Would you object if I talk privately with the elders? I need to discuss Sho-heest with them. If I can convince them that I mean him no harm and only want to talk, they may be willing to discuss it, and… they may be more open with me.”

  That made sense. There was a hostility towards all three of us, but it was far greater with Arran and me. Ly was at least tolerated as a Clansman. “That’s a good idea. I think I’ll have a little chat with your mother.”

  Ly’s mind registered amusement. “Really? I wish you luck with that.”

  She was sitting on a cushion a little apart from the others, in the position Ly favoured, one knee bent under her, one upright. I wondered why she was alone. Surely she had friends here? And as the mother of the byan shar, why wasn’t she treated with some respect? But Clanfolk were not respectful by nature, it seemed to me. Only the two elders were shown any deference at all.

  I knelt down in front of Ly’s mother – I didn’t even know her name – and Arran sat beside me to translate.

  “Greet her, and tell her I’d like to ask her advice.” Her mind was puzzled, mostly, but also angry. I had vivid memories of her rages in the past, but now that I could see inside her, I realised that her anger still burned, even when she was sitting quietly. And sorrow – that odd little thread of sorrow that was always with her.

  “We greet you, honoured mother of byan shar. We – Drina like to ask advising.”

  Her eyes widened, sliding from Arran to me and back again, but she inclined her head. The scarf covering her hair was edged with tiny glass beads which tinkled as she moved.

  “Ask what she thinks about this new byan shar.”

  “What think—”

  “I understand you,” she said. “I speak your language well enough. Better than he speaks ours, anyway.” Her accent was strong, but I had no trouble making out the words.

  “That makes it easier,” I said. “Does everyone here speak Bennamorian?”

  A shake of the head, and was that a smile? “Trader Clan only. Most are one of the Gatherer Clans. A few are here for healing from your mages. What do you want, outsider?”

  “I want your advice about this second byan shar.”

  She shrugged. “The gods have spoken. They chose, their choice failed them, now they have chosen a second time. Ly should go back to his stone city and not trouble us again.”

  It wasn’t helpful, but it was more or less what I’d expected. I decided to try a different tactic. When straightforward questions produce nothing useful, sometimes a more oblique approach yields results.

  “Why do you sit alone? Have you no friends?”

  The anger flared white hot for a moment, but her chin lifted defiantly. “What do you care?”

  “You are my husband’s mother, of course I care.”

  “I sit alone because I have failed, too,” she said.

  “Because of Ly? His failure is yours, too? Is that it?”

  “No, no. You are ignorant, outsider.”

  “Then teach me.”

  “I have failed because I have lost my ability to bond. Those who bond with a war-beast are special, revered like small gods, and I flew an eagle, once. I was somebody, and had a position in the Clans. But my eagle is gone, taken by an evil outsider, and I cannot bond again. You dare to come here, whore, on my eagle, and ask me why I sit alone? No one wants to know me now! I am the lowest of all, lower even than the children.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, and truly meant it. For I was the one who had taken, not just her eagle, but her magic, too. I hadn’t intended to, for I hadn’t come to understand my own capabilities then, but it was entirely my fault that she couldn’t make a bond with a different eagle.

  After that, I don’t know what I said to her, but I escaped as soon as I could, creeping miserably out of the supper clava. Arran followed me to the edge of the lake, and we sat in silence for some time until I detected that Ly had finished his meeting and was coming to find us.

  “You are upset,” he said, sitting down next to me, and taking my hand. “I knew it was a mistake to talk to my mother. She is always aggressive, like a bees’ nest about to swarm.”

  “But she’s unhappy, too,” I said.

  “About me? I never picked up that from her.”

  “No, about Sunshine. I took Sunshine from her, and she misses her. A bond like that – it must be hard to lose it. Isn’t there any way for her to bond again?”

  “Not that I ever heard,” he said. “The only way it could be done is if I were to share blood with her, and that will never happen. My mother in my head? Can you imagine it? No, not if all the ancestors return and pull me apart would I do that.”

  That made me laugh, but it was a sentiment we could all agree to.

  “Did the elders tell you anything useful?” Arran said.

  Ly sighed. “Sho-heest is – or was – at the castle. But one of the eagle-riders flew off as soon as we arrived here to warn him, so I expect he has left there by now. If he has gone to his island, he will be difficult to find. There are thousands of them.”

  “Drina can find him,” Arran said confidently.

  I could only hope he was right.

  19: The Castle

  We were all relieved to set the Clan village behind us and head northwest into the heart of the Clanlands. Arran had never been there, and I had only travelled that way once before, when Ly had kidnapped me in an attempt to force an end to the war. It was a valiant effort, but ill-conceived, for Yannassia would never have allowed the fate of just one person to determine Bennamorian policy.

  At first we followed the Imperial Road. It might have been interesting to fly over the black-bark forest, but the eagles were reluctant and we didn’t want to force them. The forest was a strange place, with a magic of its own, a dark magic that seemed to me to have an evil intent. There were tales of people who ventured just a short distance into it but were never seen again, and others who entered at one point and left an hour later at a different point hundreds of marks away. And when Ly had taken his people to war against us, they had travelled through the black-bark forest, driven on by Ly’s magic, and the trees had parted to allow them through.

  So we followed the road on its arrow-straight path through the more benevolent broadleaf woodlands, every stream crossed by a stone bridge, every hill riven by a narrow gash so that the road could sail seren
ely onwards without deviation. And then, abruptly, it stopped. To one side, a cleared stretch of forest, overgrown with saplings and bushes, showed where the Bennamorian forward camp had sat, until Ly’s war-beasts and their riders had destroyed it. We flew on, over the low ridge that marked the furthest extent of Bennamorian knowledge, and on into the endless rolling hills and narrow valleys beyond. There were no roads, no major rivers, only a very occasional clava encampment to show that people lived here at all. From time to time, we dropped down into an open space to stretch our cramped muscles and relieve ourselves, but we didn’t stop long. We had a good way to go, still, and we wanted to get there before sunset.

  As we flew, imperceptibly a gash appeared in the endless green ahead of us, a thin silver line that widened and stretched in all directions to become a great sea. I could see the amazement in Arran’s mind, and now that I saw it properly, not distracted by the terror of being kidnapped, the size of it was truly staggering. I could see why the Clanfolk had thought they’d found the ocean, and named it the Western Sea. It must have been a shock to them when they realised the truth – that it was only a lake, although a vast one.

  This was the heart of Clan territory, and the whole of the shore was under cultivation, with narrow strips of golden grain interspersed with green pastures and the darker greens of woodlands of various sorts. Every few marks, a clava village, and on the lake itself, round wooden houses on stilts for the fishers. Beyond them, the water was studded with islands, hundreds – no, thousands of islands, large and small, as far as the eye could see.

  On a small promontory stood our destination, the only stone building I’d seen out here. It was turreted and crenellated, and the Clanfolk called it the castle. Around it, a number of clava-shaped wooden structures, but much larger than the usual size, and arranged in groups with clear paths between them, almost like a regular town.

  We landed in a plaza between the castle’s promontory and a small pier, raising a cloud of choking dust. Unlike my last arrival here, there was no hostile crowd waiting to tie me up and drag me to the castle. But within moments, the crowd materialised anyway. It amused me to see the shocked faces as they took in Kalmander’s great wingspan.

  A small group emerged from the throng to greet us with the gesture of respect, hand to forehead. “We are honoured by your visit, byan shar,” one of them said. “And your clavaia also. I’m sorry that we don’t speak their language.”

  “They understand you,” Ly said.

  That brought smiles of relief from the welcome party. They wore the style of clothes I’d seen on my previous visit, with rich fabrics in multiple layers, elaborate and flamboyant. At the trading camp beside the sacred lake, clothes were simple tunics and trousers, peasant attire, but I’d known for a long time that that was just a facade.

  They had their beasts with them this time, too, and that was another departure. On my previous visit here, and at the trading village beside the lake, the beasts had mostly been kept out of sight. But now there were a couple of massive plains lions, two or three wolves, a bear and a large running bird. There were numerous smaller creatures, too, and I wondered what the point of those was, since they were no use as war-beasts. But perhaps they were helpful when hunting, or were simply pets. I could see the attraction in that.

  A pleasant-faced woman smiled at us and said, “I am Pay-hoom. As mother to Sho-heest, I’m glad you’ve come. We need to talk.”

  She had the same vivid blue eyes I’d seen in Brey and Gan-wheen. I wondered if it was a common trait amongst the Clanfolk, or unusual, like red hair in Bennamorians. Her mind was open to me, displaying no fear. She must have had a bonded beast somewhere, although there were so many animals around, large and small, it was hard to match them to their humans.

  “I agree, elder,” Ly said, making the gesture in his turn. “However, I wish to talk to Sho-heest himself. Is he here?”

  “No, he isn’t. Please, byan shar, come to the elders’ clava, you and your clavaia too, and we will discuss this.”

  She led the way amongst the wooden buildings, and the crowd stood aside for us to pass. For all the apparent friendliness, their minds were still hostile or anxious.

  Ly’s voice materialised in my head. “Drina, can you detect Sho-heest?”

  “Yes, but his mother’s right – he’s not here. I can sense him somewhere out on the water. An island?”

  “Probably. He is close?”

  “Not that close, no. But I know the direction.”

  “Excellent.” I sensed the glee in his mind. All we had to do now was track down the exact island he was on, out of thousands.

  The elders’ clava was one of the large wooden structures. The basic shape was round, like a clava, but with a turfed roof and a number of rounded ante-chambers attached to the outside. It was much larger than a clava, the inside divided into several rooms with wooden screens and skin curtains. The ante-chambers were all curtained off, but they reminded me of the sleeping and working alcoves around the perimeter of a regular clava.

  We were taken into a spacious room fitted with beautifully carved dark-wood furniture, with painted screens for decoration. Unlike a normal clava, the floor was solid, with so many rugs in bright colours that not a handspan of bare board could be seen. On side tables, wine and dishes of food were set out, although whether this was normal or arranged just for us I couldn’t tell.

  There were cushions on the floor, but also low padded stools, much more comfortable to my mind. When we were invited to sit, I gratefully sank onto a stool, and after a brief pause, the others followed my lead. The food was passed around – nuts, dried fruits, pastries and some sickly-sweet balls of some kind of heavy dough. Then the wine, and I was glad of that, at least.

  “Now, elder…” Ly said, when these polite formalities had been dealt with. “I should like to know where Sho-heest is just now.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Pay-hoom said. “You can’t meet him. Whatever you have to say, you can say to me and I will pass along to Sho. That is my role, you know, to advise him, and protect him from… other influences.”

  “That is acceptable for other Clanfolk,” Ly said haughtily. “It is not acceptable to me. I am byan shar—” Sho’s mother would have interrupted him, but he raised a hand imperiously and said more loudly, “I am byan shar, and you have no right to keep me from Sho-heest. But that is no matter, for my wife can find him, wherever he is.”

  Her eyes widened at that, and she threw me a fearful glance.

  But there was no hesitation in her answer. “I doubt that very much. He’s well hidden. But even if you could find him, he won’t talk to you. We had word that you were on your way, and so we’re ready for you, all of you. Sho has nothing to say to any of you. As I’ve already explained, you may talk to me. That’s the proper way to do this. Tell me what you want, byan shar. I’m willing to listen, and to discuss the options. This is a unique situation, and we shouldn’t be hasty in our actions, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Ly nodded, although reluctantly, I thought. “It’s true, this has never happened before. We should all be open to new ways of thinking, because of that. You’re not one of those, then, who considers that I have failed and that Sho-heest has been sent to replace me?”

  That was grasping the sword by its blade, and no mistake. Yannassia would have been proud of him, I thought, diving right in with the awkward question. The effect was immediate. Sho’s mother flushed and looked at her hands, twisting them nervously. A couple of the others exchanged glances.

  “There are those who say that, it’s true,” Pay-hoom said, but she looked him in the eye as she spoke. I admired her confidence. “Personally, I don’t know. It’s not for us to question the will of the gods, or to try to interpret their wishes. They chose you, and now they’ve chosen Sho, and there must be a reason for that, but I can’t guess what it might be. All I know is that it’s my purpose to guide him through the next fifteen years.”

  “Or until he takes a wife,” one of
the other elders put in, and Pay-hoom flushed again. That was interesting. There was clearly some dissent there over the matter of a wife.

  “That’s true,” Ly said. “It’s good that he has an elder to guide his steps. But there is one other who can also help him and advise him, one other who has already been through everything that Sho-heest is experiencing now. Don’t you feel that it would be good for him to learn from me, too? Who better to understand all the changes ahead of him?”

  “No,” Pay-hoom said at once. “That’s not necessary at all. The processes that Sho has to go through, everything he needs to learn, are already laid down in full. He doesn’t need anyone except his mother.”

  “And what are your plans for him?” Ly said. “How do you see his life progressing under your guidance?”

  She lifted her chin, and I didn’t need to see into her mind to recognise the defiance there. “He will spend fifteen years regenerating his people and building his army. Then he will lead us to war. That is the purpose of a byan shar.”

  ~~~~~

  We were allocated a sleeping place in the elders’ clava, and shared a rather uncomfortable meal in the supper clava, a hot, stuffy building, hazy with smoke, noisy and crowded. When Ly was first byan shar, and couldn’t shut out the thoughts and feelings in everyone’s heads, such a place must have been torment to him. No wonder he’d retreated to his island as often as possible, and chosen to travel alone to Bennamore, where he had no access to any minds but mine. But here, almost everyone had a bonded beast of some sort, so that their minds were exposed to him. At least his greater control now meant that he could shut them out whenever he wished, and I was learning to do the same.