When the older myrmidon joined them, her eyes were sparkling with fury.
‘That was a dangerous moment,’ Alene said, mopping at her bloody cheek when they were far enough away from the square to breathe more easily. The cloth she held was saturated with blood but other than that single cry, she made no reference to her wound, only pulling a scarf over her head to conceal the gash.
‘I should have stayed and killed the aspi-dung who threw that rock,’ Feyt said savagely.
Alene touched her arm pacifically. ‘Your boldness saved us, my dear protector. But in departing without spilling blood, you proved yourself both brave and wise. Not only would it have brought the crowd down on us, it would have given Coralyn the perfect reason to have you two removed.’
‘It is much worse than when we were last here,’ Tareed said, as they came into a street leading straight down to the foreshore. She sounded shaken.
A breeze wafted sand in miniature eddies on the beach and on the pier, which was a continuation of the road along the top of a man-made breakwater constructed of stone and rubble. It was very broad, so that even with freight piled high on either side – tea chests and boxes and large bundles wrapped in oilcloth – there was room left along the centre to allow carts to reach the heaviest vessels at the very end. The ships themselves looked to Ember as if they had been modelled on old-fashioned Spanish galleons, except that they showed no sail on their masts.
What with the noise of loading and unloading cargo and passengers chattering and clutching at one another and laughing and the splash and roar of the sea, as well as the screeches of wheeling red-plumed flyts, the waterfront had a lively atmosphere that seemed a world apart from the grimness of the stinking city looming over it.
Alene stopped to give way to a man leading a herd of small aspi, and Ember took the chance to comment on the difference between the wharf and the city.
‘That is because, in an unofficial way, Vespian shipsons and daughters rule the piers on all the islands since none but they have ships to cross the waters,’ Tareed said softly. ‘Generally Vespi is a pretty grim place, but the piers on all islands are merry and pleasant places where you can always get a good pressed juice or a cheap meal and sometimes even hear a balladeer. It is the one area of the citadel where we are fairly safe because Vespi cleaves to Darkfall. No one would dare insult us here for fear of setting in motion a Vespian blackban on Ramidan’s harbour which would effectively isolate it from the other islands.’
‘Would they do that?’
‘They could, and they often threaten it, but it has never happened yet, so I cannot say if they would go that far,’ Tareed answered, when the soulweaver did not respond. ‘No one pushes it, you see, because Vespi controls the waves and, without the ships, the islands would be utterly isolated.’
‘Don’t any of the other islands build ships?’
‘All ships are made from veswood which, as I told you before, grows effectively enough for water vessels only on Vespi; also the Vespians alone can wavespeak a vessel safely across the open water.’ She looked to make sure Alene had begun to move away, then whispered, ‘That is why Coralyn makes Unys entertain Kerd.’
Ember stared at the myrmidon blankly.
‘Kerd is the son of Fulig, chieftain of Vespi and lord of the wavespeakers. Coralyn wants to life bond him to Unys, so that she can try to control Vespi through him when his father dies,’ Tareed hissed. ‘Kerd is so besotted he cannot or will not see that Unys loathes him.’
Ember was still trying to sort all of this out as they moved along the considerable length of the pier. She noticed a few covert sneers and sour glances directed at the soulweaver, but no one spoke out. The shipfolk, however, hailed Alene and greeted her warmly. Ember noted that they were quite different-looking from Alene and the myrmidons, being swarthy and wiry of build with dark-blond or brown hair.
‘Ho, soulweaver. May the Song favour you,’ one tanned man boomed heartily.
‘Greetings, Sala. Is the Stormsong in?’ Alene asked.
‘Aye. At the very end, she is. Just tied up this afternoon, laden with a fine load of rugs from Sheanna, but no callstones, if that was what you were after.’
Alene only smiled and thanked the man before leading the way along the pier. It was harder and harder to believe she was blind. Perhaps silverblindness was not the same as blindness, Ember mused.
They walked past a group of people arguing with a white-bearded seafarer, to a small sturdy ship flying dazzling yellow pennants worked in gold thread. A voluptuous wooden mermaid, carved into the prow, held a gilt wooden placard which pronounced the ship to be the Stormsong. It looked deserted, but Feyt banged on the bow with the end of her javelin.
‘Ho, Stormsong. Is the shipmaster aboard?’
Immediately a head popped up over the side and a girl with an enchanting monkey’s face grinned down at the myrmidon in delight. ‘Feyt! You aspi-dung! Since when did you take to tilting at innocent ships?’
Feyt’s lips curved into an answering smile. ‘Revel! I see you wear the master’s knot. Fulig must have gone mad to give it to you. And your father too, if he allows you to direct his sweetest vessel.’
The mobile face was abruptly shuttered. ‘These taxes of Tarsin’s have all but broken him. He has lain abed these last months.’
Feyt’s smile vanished. ‘Forgive me. I spoke in jest. Is he …?’
‘Oh no!’ Revel shook her head emphatically. ‘He would not dare die and leave the running of his beloved vessel to a hoydenish daughter.’
‘Liar! You are the pride of his household,’ Feyt laughed.
The Vespian girl grinned, but without the spontaneity of her first greeting. ‘I have not seen you for too long, my friend. It is rumoured that you dwell outside the palace these days.’
‘These are hard times for us here.’
‘Hard times everywhere, truly,’ Revel agreed.
‘We came to the citadel for a purpose. A word in your ear.’
Without further ado the Vespian girl flipped right over the side of the ship in an agile somersault, landing firmly and squarely on her two feet at Feyt’s side. Then she spotted Alene and bowed respectfully from the waist. ‘Forgive me, soulweaver, I did not see you.’
‘It is good to meet you again, Revel. Your father is a true friend to Darkfall and it grieves my heart to hear he is ill. I will give you a tonic for him.’
Revel frowned. ‘Are you injured, Lady?’
‘Someone threw a stone …’ Tareed began indignantly, but Alene held out a slender hand.
‘It is of no consequence. Tell me, Revel, how long do you plan to tarry here?’
‘I leave within the hour,’ the girl said. ‘With Coralyn bringing her legionnaires in, and this new Draaka cult taking hold among these fool citadel folk, not to mention the Shadowman’s people stirring up trouble, the whole place is as ready to brew strife for the unwary as Iridom in a hot season. I came only to exchange a cargo of rugs for spices. I will be leaving as soon as the new cargo is stowed. That is the policy these days – in and out. No tarrying.’ She shook her head. ‘From Lanalor’s time, the citadel has been the favoured stopping-over place for our ships, but these days we avoid Ramidan except when we must come here. I am not alone in my plea to Fulig that we remove this curst place from our schedule, but he refuses. Fulig will support the Holder as long as Darkfall does, regardless of how it hurts his people.’
‘You speak very freely,’ Alene said.
Revel gave an angry laugh. ‘It is a trait of shipfolk. The open water has no time for the hidden truths and mysteries of the misty isle. One cannot lie to the waves or deceive the water. Tarsin taxes our ships heavily for a service only we can provide him with. He insults our chieftain and places insane demands upon us. In spite of all this, Fulig commands us to obey because he is Darkfall’s choice. Well, I obey, but I am my own person and I have feelings which none may direct. I have no love for Tarsin.’ She stopped abruptly and Ember wondered if she would have li
ked to add, or for Darkfall.
There was an awkward pause, then Revel shrugged. ‘I am sorry if I shock you, Alene. Blame my father’s illness. I am worried for him and I speak sharply to you. It is not Darkfall’s fault exactly, or yours, and yet where else should the blame lie? To answer your question more precisely, I would leave this shore now, but I am waiting for a box of spice to be delivered. If it does not come very soon, I shall be forced to leave tomorrow; a delay that will cost the spice trader dear. When I leave, I go direct to Vespi.’
‘Will you take a passenger?’ Alene asked.
Revel’s eyes widened. ‘You will travel?’
‘You know I may not leave this isle while Tarsin lives. We two are bound by sacred Darkfall oath, no matter how he treats me or wishes me gone.’
Revel had the grace to blush at this reminder that Alene was as much bound as her own father by honour and duty.
‘This is your passenger if you will carry her.’ Alene pointed to Ember. ‘But she must journey at once. I will pay for the spice to be carried by another vessel and you will receive a bonus if you will only go immediately. She is bound for Myrmidor. I do not ask that you change your plans of journeying, but bring her safely as far as Vespi and see that she boards another ship for Myrmidor as soon as may be.’
Revel looked at Ember for a long speculative moment, her dark eyes probing the opaque veil. She turned back to Alene. ‘Is there … reason for haste?’
‘Aye,’ Alene said imperturbably. ‘If a visionweaver wishes to go to the Darkfall landing, there are many on this isle who would dispute her right. And some who would do more than dispute. Therefore might that visionweaver travel to the isle of Ramidan and thence to Myrmidor.’
Ember wondered what a visionweaver was and why the soulweaver did not say plainly that she was a stranger. The brusque young woman was clearly an ally to Darkfall.
‘A visionweaver?’ Revel said, eyeing Ember with interest. ‘You are a long way from home, Lady. And since when did Sheanna forbid its daughters to offer themselves to Darkfall?’ When Ember did not speak, Revel turned back to Alene.
‘Will you carry her?’ Alene asked calmly.
‘More mysteries, Lady?’ Revel said in a hard tone. Alene made no response and, finally, the Vespian shrugged. ‘It matters not to me where she travels. But all passengers must be registered with the harbourmaster one day before outward travel. Tarsin’s latest rule. Or Coralyn’s in Tarsin’s name. Do you have stamped papers saying she is registered to journey today?’
‘It would be better,’ Alene said carefully, ‘if there was no record of her departure.’
Revel’s eyes narrowed. ‘Darkfall asks much of those who are loyal. Perhaps too much …’
Feyt gave her friend a puzzled look but stayed silent. When Alene made no response, the Vespian girl went on. ‘Fulig bade us be scrupulously law-abiding and equal in our dealings with all septs and Tarsin’s people require travel papers. Do you command me to break the law of the citadel harbour?’
‘I command nothing, but I say to you that this is a friend of Darkfall,’ Alene said calmly.
The Vespian girl’s eyes widened. ‘You invoke the friendbinding?’
‘I do.’
Revel gave her a long hard look. ‘Then you do more than command. You demand help without question. This trust is not to be invoked lightly.’
‘I do nothing lightly,’ Alene said with some irritation. ‘Now, please, take her aboard and leave at once. Feyt will see to the spices …’
‘Too late,’ Feyt said flatly, as a narrow carriage drawn by two liveried aspi rattled along the pier, scattering people and livestock in its path. It drew up by the Stormsong with a creak and a curse from the elderly driver. Ember gaped, for seated there, and dressed now in sober grey, was the stout man from her dream!
Fortunately her reaction was hidden by the veil.
‘Soulweaver!’ the man bellowed as if they were all stone deaf. ‘For the sake of Lanalor’s Charter, I charge you to hear me. Tarsin, rightful Holder of Keltor, commands that you present yourself at the cliff palace.’
‘I see you grow forgetful with age, Asa,’ Feyt said coldly, standing her javelin casually in front of her. ‘First you confuse the wording of your announcement, for surely you meant Tarsin who is Holder of Lanalor’s Charter, which gives him rule and care of Keltor by virtue of Darkfall Decree. And then, you forget the part of the heralding which excludes Darkfall from the Holder’s dominion.’
The man quailed beneath the myrmidon’s stony gaze. His eyes skittered to her javelin and away. ‘Ahhh. So I did, forgive me. Blame my haste at a desire to catch you before your voyage, Alene.’
The soulweaver inclined her head graciously, though there was an ironic tilt to her mouth. ‘My voyage, Asa? You know I do not travel.’
‘But you are here. I assumed …’
‘It is always dangerous to assume. I come to farewell another who travels to Vespi. Therefore, you may return to the palace and assure Tarsin I mean to wait on him as soon as I have seen my companion safely installed aboard the ship.’
‘I fear this can not be, soulweaver,’ Asa said smoothly, suddenly secure in his authority. ‘Tarsin bade me command you and all of your party to attend him.’
‘I am sure he did not mean this girl who is with us by chance …’ Feyt put in, sounding irritated.
‘The Holder was most explicit in his command,’ Asa said lugubriously. He smiled, baring the stained teeth Ember remembered from her dream. ‘Unless this veiled girl and her journey are so important to Darkfall as to be set above your sworn duty of obedience to the Holder?’
There was a subtle but unmistakable menace underlying his words.
Alene only smiled slightly. ‘My duty to Darkfall and to the Holder are one and the same, Asa, and both arise from Lanalor’s Charter.’
Revel stepped forward. ‘A moment, emissary. I am shipmistress of this vessel and this visionweaver is my passenger. I am contracted to take her to Vespi. The ship code says a passage agreed to is a sacred bond and Fulig does not approve of broken contracts or unpaid journeys.’
To Ember’s surprise, Asa eyed the girl as if she were a scorpion that might sting him. ‘You will not be out of pocket, shipmistress, I assure you, but Tarsin’s word is law and he desires the presence of this … visionweaver?’
He looked at Ember as Revel had done moments before, as if he had just taken in the significance of her title. ‘I did not know your companion was a visionweaver, Alene. Seldom do Sheannites visit Ramidan. You are welcome indeed, Lady,’ he said directly to Ember. ‘Allow me to offer you and the soulweaver transport to the palace.’
‘I’d rather walk,’ Ember said quickly.
His eyes narrowed. ‘As you wish. Alene?’
The blind woman bowed gracefully to the inevitable, and turned to Revel. ‘I am sorry for this, wavespeaker. If you can possibly delay your departure until the morrow, I will have something prepared to ease your father. And perhaps your passenger shall by then have leave to travel.’
‘I shall call on you at your apartment in the cliff palace tomorrow morning,’ the Vespian responded after the slightest of hesitations.
The soulweaver inclined her head and allowed Feyt to help her aboard Asa’s carriage. The blonde myrmidon made to get into the carriage after her, but Alene said that she would prefer to be accompanied by Tareed. ‘You will bring the visionweaver to the palace, Feyt.’
Feyt nodded, but she fixed Asa with a severe look. ‘Tareed will travel with the soulweaver, but I set the responsibility for her care in your hands.’
‘No harm shall come to her,’ the emissary said with some hauteur.
‘It had better not,’ Feyt said icily.
The carriage departed with a jerk and Ember was left standing between the blonde amazon and the Vespian shipmistress.
‘Lanalor curse us, what more could go wrong?’ Feyt groaned.
segue …
The watcher wove in the Void knowing that m
any things had gone awry and would continue to do so. Chaos dwelt in the world now.
A fine thread flew out linking the events unfolding on Ramidan with other occurrences on the world that had spawned the Unraveller, and the watcher allowed itself to be carried like a questing spider.
It was becoming increasingly aware of an almost invisible web of resonances between the two worlds, though there was no link between them except one fantastic spar thrown in desperation. It resolved to discover their purpose.
The watcher began to attune its vision to the infinitesimal and incidental, letting a tiny event in one world lead it to a corresponding detail in the other.
It segued in an arc that brought it to a city where it was early morning and the veil of smog sagging over the decaying inner suburbs allowed only an eternal murky twilight. Here, two women picked their way down a steep embankment.
‘It stinks down here. How can they bear it?’ one of the women murmured. If she had to exist on the street, she felt she would not be like these people, curling up in their own filth. She had read once that one ought to have hope, even if there was no hope, and she believed that. But these morning breakfast dumps in the refuge bus tested her. The places they went to seemed devoid of all hope and, worse, she got the feeling hopelessness was like a plague, stealing out and spreading everywhere. The week before, visiting a friend whose marriage was breaking up, she had felt that same sense of creeping despair in that neat, clean, suburban kitchenette.
The other woman said gruffly, ‘Tabby, it’s not always this bad. The garbage collectors are on strike because of some dispute with the council, so everybody dumps their messes here under the bridge rather than letting it pile up outside their doors. Illegal of course, but who cares. These kids and deros who live here are in no position to make a complaint.’
She took out a torch. Flicking it on, she played it to the left and right, catching a rat who merely stared boldly back at her. Above it was a scrawl of graffiti. She read the words: God is sending the comet as he once sent his son. The son came to save, the comet comes as his revenge! Further along in purple fluorescent paint was scrawled: Rip all fags and greenies from the world.
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