Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1)

by Greenslade, Amanda

‘You must teach me how to shield my thoughts,’ I said to Tiaro.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘You are like an uncurled scroll at the moment, broadwaving when you don’t mean to and letting thoughts out to those who are listening keenly. Yet I do not think you have anything to fear from Kestric and Sarlice.’

  ‘Talon, there you are.’

  ‘Bessed,’ I said, turning to face him. ‘Why are you wearing the ephod of prime?’

  ‘I’ve been elected as prime,’ he replied solemnly.

  I gestured at the spare chair in front of me and my foster father sat with a deep sigh. Rekala lay on her side and groomed herself.

  ‘This is my foster father, Bessed,’ I told Sarlice.

  ‘We’ve met,’ she replied. ‘Congratulations on your appointment, Prime.’

  ‘How will you manage it all?’ I asked. Bessed was capable, but the position of Quartermaster was demanding enough all on its own.

  ‘Drea will run the storehouses and I will do my best to lead Jaria, or what’s left of it.’

  I cast my eyes around the village, saddened by the destruction. A dozen fresh graves had been dug in the cemetery, which was just visible in the distance.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll lead us well,’ I said.

  ‘My thanks for the encouragement, Talon. As Prime, I was privy to the village’s most recent mail. That letter you brought to Namal from Damia and Annie… was from your father.’

  I shifted so that I was leaning against Rekala’s back. With effort, I forced myself to remain calm. A letter from my father so many years after his passing! Sarlice looked on with respectful silence, stroking Kestic’s ears.

  ‘Damia scribbled a note at the top,’ Bessed said. ‘Let me read it all to you.’

  ‘Namal,

  Mandus asked me to send a letter once, years ago. Days later he told me to burn it and never say a word. He was back in Jaria, then, and there seemed no reason to keep it. As you can see, I did keep it. For some months I had been feeling that Sy-tré wanted me to pass it on. Then Talon arrived on our doorstep and it all became clear. You better show him. He has a right to know.

  DAMIA

  Jaria,

  I don’t know myself anymore. My heart has departed this world. I wanted to thank you, my people, for letting me search for Kerra and the other captives. Then I wanted to curse you. Ten months. She tried to say ‘farewell’, but only got halfway. I never saw the child who stole her life away. She made me promise to see it safe. I failed her. If I ever find it I know I will hate it for killing her.

  Bal Harar appears to have put a great deal of planning into capturing Kerra but, true to form, she defied him by dying in childbirth. Perhaps this list I have enclosed will help you more than it has helped me. Not a single name on it revealed any sense to this Zeika madness.

  Kerra’s aunty will not come home with me. Jaalta has abandoned us to live among people who were once enemies.

  Perhaps some good has come of this. At long last I have been shown that the Tanzans are not our enemies and never were. I don’t know what will happen, but may Sy-tré run with you.

  MANDUS—

  Your commander

  Your servant

  Your friend.’

  It hurt slightly that my father’s letter did not even mention me. That letter must have been written shortly after my mother had died. Had my father been planning not to return to Ella and me in Jaria? Perhaps he had intended to ride back alone to search for this mysterious child. If so, he must have changed his mind. In all the years that followed his return he never even mentioned that my mother had been pregnant to a Zeika. Do I blame him?

  I scrubbed at my forehead and felt sweat come off on my fingers.

  Rekala sat up, whined and pushed her back against me. I reached out to receive the letter from Bessed’s outstretched hand and sat for a moment re-reading it. Surely there was something, anything, more. I ignored inquisitive looks from around the campfire. The list of names my father mentioned was equally frustrating. Written in Reltic, it had a rough Telbion translation scrawled alongside. Some spaces were blank and some names were underlined, but there was no key to understand it.

  Mosera and Isvan

  Jodhi and Lersa

  Varid and Igivorn

  … and Nikayai

  … and …

  … and Jueli

  Tegran and Isola

  Nion and Kerran

  Kamla and …

  Cristo and Isedrea

  Ballex and Niria

  Veeri and Chapad

  Eillana and …

  Jodhi and Rosa

  Kerra

  I recognised the names of my grandparents on my mother’s side and my great grandparents on her father’s side. Beyond that were the names of my mother’s ancestors going back through one side of parentage with each generation. A fragment of a genealogy, it was a clue to why the Zeikas wanted Kerra so badly.

  Namal and two of the other village leaders, Curn and Rundo, came to sit by Bessed. The nine of us, including Uola and the two tigers, formed a rough circle. I could sense Rundo’s Rada-kin close behind him, but Curn’s was away helping Drea and some others transport goods from the storehouse.

  ‘It can’t be true,’ I stammered. ‘Someone would have said something.’

  Bessed glanced around at the others and said, ‘When your father came back from your mother’s grave he secluded himself for weeks.’

  ‘I remember,’ I told him gruffly.

  ‘He wasn’t himself after that,’ Bessed went on.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘There were many things he didn’t tell us, and most of the others who were with him perished or went their separate ways. We didn’t know about the child nor the list.’

  I gritted my teeth. Surely somebody had known.

  ‘I’ve never heard of Jaalta either,’ Bessed added.

  ‘Kerra’s mother, Rosa, wasn’t from Jaria, so it’s likely her sister never set foot here,’ Curn said.

  I had never met any of my grandparents, but I had learned their names when I was small. It was comforting to know that my family history hadn’t been forgotten. Curn was the village planner so it was his business to know Jaria’s population and most of its comings and goings. He and Namal sometimes worked closely on that part of the village archives.

  ‘Perhaps Talon can attempt to find this Aunty Jaalta of his when he goes to Tanza,’ Curn suggested.

  I stared at him in open-mouthed shock. Rekala got to her feet, sensing my confusion.

  ‘With all that has happened and the demise of poor Feera there’s probably been nobody to tell you….’ Bessed began. He nodded at Curn to continue.

  ‘As you probably know it’s been our custom over the past decade to send new Anzaii on a pilgrimage to Tanza and Watercrag to find out if they’re Sleffion and Tolite as well. This is especially important before one is chosen to be the Wave Master.’

  So they are considering me for Feera’s position, I thought. Jaria’s leader of waves and kin had immense responsibilities. I was awed at the trust the leaders were willing to place in me, but my hesitation remained. Namal’s words of encouragement to follow my heart and heed Sy-tré came to mind.

  What do you want me to do Sy-tré?

  One thing was certain—I would never be the quartermaster’s apprentice again.

  ‘You want me to become a village leader,’ I sputtered.

  ‘Aye,’ Curn replied. ‘Feera was responsible for overseeing the waves and the needs of our collective kindred. With your growing Anzaii abilities, you will be able to do the same.’

  ‘I don’t know if I’m ready.’

  With a glance at the others, Bessed put his hand on my knee. ‘The purpose of the quest is to ensure Anzaii aren’t beleaguered with responsibilities here before determining whether they have yet more gifts of the Astor to learn.’

  ‘You are our only Anzaii,’ Rundo added. ‘Otherwise we wouldn’t even be considering this—’

  Bessed noticed my
slight recoil and added, ‘What Leader Rundo means is that you are so new to your abilities, those of both Anzaii and Rada. We don’t ask this of you lightly.’

  Rundo screwed up the corner of his mouth and glanced irritably at Bessed. ‘We do not yet know if you are cut out for leadership.’

  ‘What does the pilgrimage entail?’ I asked cautiously.

  ‘To find out if you are an Astor once you are Anzaii, you must determine whether you have the other three gifts,’ Namal answered. ‘We already know you’re Rada so that leaves the Sleffion and Tolite gifts.’

  I wondered who would finance such a long journey—from one end of the map to the other—especially given Jaria’s current state.

  ‘It’s simple.’ Rundo misread my lack of response as incomprehension. ‘You go to Tanza to find out if you have a skyearl companion and then on to Watercrag to attempt a weapon bond. If you manage both you will be Anzaii, Sleffion, Tolite and Rada—Astor.’

  ‘You can understand why we need to know,’ Curn said. ‘There is a far greater advantage to having an Astor in our ranks, as opposed to an Anzaii Rada.’

  ‘And we want to give you every opportunity to discover the destiny Sy-tré has in store for you,’ Bessed added. ‘Astor is a very important rank, and equally rare.’

  We were living in the Age of Astors, but those with the full rank were usually generations apart.

  Sarlice, who had been silently observing up until this point, said, ‘There are many Anzaii Tolites in Watercrag but no Astors that I’m aware of.’

  ‘You know the ins and outs of the journey to Watercrag.’ Bessed looked at Sarlice. ‘You could be Talon’s guide and guardian.’

  ‘I came to Jaria to seek your counsel on negotiating with the king of Telby. We want to win Lyth’s independence, just like Jaria has,’ she replied with care, ‘or to do whatever else was necessary to find allies for both Lyth and Jaria. It seems that neither of our beloved nations can survive much longer if the ban against Zeikas entering Telby has been lifted.’

  ‘If I am to travel to Tanza and Watercrag,’ I began, ‘isn’t Telby along the way?’

  Sarlice looked at me, lifting her head as Kestric passed on to her the gist of what I was thinking.

  ‘Would you like me to join in Sarlice’s diplomatic quest? Then she can go with me to Tanza and Watercrag.’

  ‘Would you agree to such an undertaking?’ Namal asked her.

  She crouched down out of her chair and conferred with Kestric on his level. When she closed her eyes, I worried that she was preparing herself to answer ‘nay’, but she turned back to the watching leaders and grinned broadly.

  ‘Not only would we agree,’ she stated, ‘but we feel compelled by the Lightmaker himself to accept this mission.’

  ‘That’s settled then,’ Bessed said. ‘You and Kestric will guard Talon and guide him all the way to Watercrag, stopping at Telby and Tanza on the way.’

  ‘Talon,’ Namal began, ‘when you and Sarlice arrive in Telby City, you must find out why King Flale is letting Zeikas back into Telby.’

  ‘Should the king fail to sympathise with our situation you must notify us,’ Bessed said. ‘Then, carry on to Tanza and Watercrag to determine whether you are Sleffion or Tolite, and to see if either realm can send help to Jaria and Lyth. We will send another ambassador to Ravra, which is our closest potential ally. Finally, go with Sarlice back to Lyth, whereupon her duty to you is filled. Meet with the Prime of Lyth to discuss our alliance. It’s a long journey, but you must not delay.’

  ‘Namal will give you a list of trade goods we have to offer our allies,’ he said, ‘and contracts for them to sign stating that they will send troops to aid us.’

  ‘I’ll get to work on them right away.’ Namal started to walk away. It wouldn’t normally have been up to him, but the Trade Coordinator was among the five village leaders who had been slain.

  ‘Are you certain how Jaria will fare after I am gone?’ I asked Bessed.

  The new prime sighed. ‘I cannot be certain about that, however, the Zeikas may not even know you’re gone. Now that you’ve rid Jaria of scrying marks, the enemy will not be able to see what we’re up to. Mayhap a few months of peace will follow last night’s attack, but we will hide ourselves in the fortress as much as possible, and keep our warriors on the alert.’

  The enormity of what I was about to do filled me with trepidation, but it was also exciting to imagine the things I would see on my journey. Rekala’s tail flicked and she sat up, looking around sharply at the other humans.

  ‘I have never travelled beyond Sarm,’ I stammered. ‘Are you certain I am knowledgeable enough to speak for Jaria?’

  ‘You have much to learn, Talon,’ Bessed said coolly, ‘but that will not stop you from serving Jaria in this. I hereby promote you to the military rank of Ambassador. Heed Sy-tré in all things and you will not go astray.’

  It took some time to prepare for the journey, but we were given loads of supplies. I loaded my saddlebags with everything I needed.

  I strapped the packs onto Damia and Annie’s carthorse. Sarlice and I had enough coin to buy some horses once we reached Tasset.

  Bessed sent us off with his blessings, and prayed we would have the faith to follow Sy-tré and discover our destinies. The last thing Bessed gave me was a black silk shirt with the emblem of Jaria—a white wolf under a blue tree—on it.

  ‘What’s this for?’

  ‘Any encounters you might have with nobility or royalty,’ he replied. ‘As an ambassador for Jaria, it’s important you are respectable when speaking for the realm.’

  Nobility! What have I gotten myself into?

  Chapter Eleven—Rade

  Sarlice, Kestric, Rekala and I travelled steadily from Jaria towards Tasset. We stayed a night in Tez with Damia and Annie, returning the carthorse to them. During the few days ride from Tez to Tasset, Rekala and Kestric carried our gear and occasionally carried one of us on their backs. Sarlice and I travelled in animal form as much as possible.

  Five days steady ride found us crossing farms and grassy hills surrounding the city. There were wooden fences to either side of the road and a sign post welcoming us to Tasset. Further southeast was Sarm, where we would make our last stop before heading for Telby City.

  Soon we could make out the hard-packed yellow streets and stone buildings of the town. Everything in the outskirts of Tasset was built to withstand howling desert winds. The houses faced inwards, with thick rock walls providing excellent insulation from the heat and the cold. I noticed stacks of hay piled near an open corral that were tied down and wrapped in canvas, presumably to keep the hay from blowing away.

  Most of the houses had fenestral windows with wooden lattice frames that supported linen soaked in resin and tallow. They let in the light without admitting sand or wind. Some of the smaller dwellings merely had wooden shutters, like the houses in Jaria. Even though there was only a light breeze today most of the shutters were closed and nothing loose was left outside. If a dwelling had a porch with a table and chairs they were weighed down with sand bags, tied with rope or made of stone.

  Both Tiaro and Rekala were fascinated by our new surroundings—everywhere I looked Tiaro was right there in my mind, conjuring up everything I knew so she could understand it better. Instead of merely glancing at a peasant who passed us by Tiaro drew my attention to everything about him, devouring the information that came to the forefront of my mind.

  He was towing a cart full of threshed wheat with his sickle hanging from the back. He wore a simple desert robe made of brown linen tied at the waist with a cord. He wore a straw hat, plain leather shoes and had a pewter badge in the shape of a well dangling from his robe. Over his right shoulder was a leather drinking costrel probably filled with ale. Rekala sniffed him as he went by.

  A group of foot soldiers trotted past, one carrying a standard of blue satin with a black swan sewn in the centre. They were followed by Rajon Lakelle, a mounted noble in a blue doublet and black wooll
en hose. Rajon sneered down at me, recognising me from previous trips to the town. Many people resented the way Rada could travel from town to town so freely, unbound by many of the limitations that governed the rest of society.

  There were many advantages to having an animal at one’s side, including safety from brigands on the road, assistance hunting and finding food and the ease of finding work. The social order revered by the rest of the world was largely irrelevant to Kriites as we believed each person was created equal no matter their culture, religion or gender. Rada, Tolites and especially Anzaii enjoyed many freedoms common folk did not.

  ‘Do you consider yourself better than them?’ Rekala asked. Her natural instincts came to the fore giving me a flash of her simple animal logic. The strongest icetiger in any given territory became its master and drove all others away.

  ‘Nay. I count myself privileged and see it as my duty to do what I can to ease their burdens.’

  ‘When you are in a town like this, you have to follow the social order, don’t you?’ Tiaro queried.

  ‘Aye, to a point. Rada are considered powerful friends by some nobles, so we are welcomed at some tables. Then there are others who feel threatened, resent our unearned social status and treat us like any other commoner.’

  ‘Like that Lakelle fellow?’ she queried.

  ‘Aye. He’s from a local noble family with more lands and wealth than most.’

  Rekala turned her head and snorted at the noble’s back, but he was too far away to hear her. If she had been in icetiger form, I was certain she would have growled.

  ‘We could get in trouble for that here, you know,’ I told her. ‘Growl at the wrong person and we could end up with a fight.’

  ‘Better than all this social side-stepping you humans do,’ she retorted.

  Sarlice glanced at me and smiled when Kestric passed on Rekala’s words.

  ‘You probably know this town better than I do,’ she said. ‘Where’s a good place to stay?’

  ‘The Pottage Inn should be adequate and it backs on to a livestock market and stables where we can seek new mounts.’

  ‘It’s a shame Jaria couldn’t spare any,’ Sarlice murmured.