‘Fetch your things,’ she said.
‘What about yours?’ I asked glancing around the room.
‘I’ve already put my belongings in the stables. Kestric is guarding them.’
Austo remained standing with his back to us, but I could almost feel his frustration. After smiling at Sarlice I downed the Zeika’s unfinished mead and followed Lira upstairs.
By the time Lira and I returned to the ground floor of the tavern Sarlice was marching out the door, leaving Austo standing in the foyer with his arms thrown up in defeat. I offered my hand to him as we passed and he took it grudgingly.
‘She may think she’s looking after you,’ he began, tightening his grip on my hand, ‘but you’d better see that no harm comes to her.’
‘I will,’ I replied.
‘She saved Mocinte and I once, you know,’ he murmured, still holding onto my hand. ‘Put herself right in harm’s way to do it. If she truly believes you’re destined to be an Astor there’s no telling what she’ll do to protect you.’
‘I’ll see that she gets the same protection from me,’ I promised him.
Austo looked me in the eye, holding my gaze for a long moment. Eventually he nodded and let me go.
Chapter Fourteen—Allies and Enemies
From Sarm it would take us ten days to reach Telby City. Sarlice chose to avoid the dust-choked road and the caravans and brigands she said it would attract. Instead we travelled on the deer trails on the far side of the river, climbing small outcrops and winding through copses and woods when we had to. I saw distant settlements from time to time, many surrounded by crumbling walls—remnants of the Realm Wars.
Fields covered the lands around the settlements, growing everything from lavender to lemons. Between the populated areas were rugged, tussocky grasslands and rocky headlands. Occasional herds of fallow deer, oryx or sheep grazed there.
As far as the eye could see the hills loped on with occasional ravines or groves. The fields were peppered with flowers and alive with noisy bees. Soon the trees that flanked the river became so dense that we had to travel on the grasslands, out of sight from both river and road. We made our way back to the water each night.
The Rada-kin found plenty of game within the luxuriant forest and there was often a variety of crayfish along the river.
As promised I fashioned a crab pot out of the twine we’d purchased in Sarm and baited it overnight to catch breakfast. This succeeded less than half the time, but the big muddies were a welcome addition to our diet.
One afternoon, as we were crossing the plains we saw grey clouds in the distance and sheets of rain connecting them to the ground. The storm came upon us faster than expected. Sarlice and Kestric had chosen a good place to camp, near a small lagoon, but raised on a knoll surrounded by bushes.
As the wind lashed us and water poured down, we set up the canvas shelter, pegged it down and threw our gear inside. Lira, Sarlice and I piled in, dragging away wet boots and socks. Lira complained bitterly about the weather and I found myself apologising for the crudeness of our shelter. There was barely enough room for the three of us to lie down with all our gear. Worse, it smelled like unwashed bodies, horse sweat and wet canvas.
Sarlice lit a stub of beeswax and stuck it down on a small flint dish. Though it was still dark inside I could make out a black stain on the back of Lira’s shirt from the collar down. I wondered what it was, but didn’t want to annoy her further by asking.
We took turns getting changed while the others faced away. I went last to allow the ladies to get comfortable. Sarlice had her back turned, but Lira merely closed her eyes. Somehow I knew she had opened them again, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. I was unsure whether to be thrilled or affronted—never before had a woman showed interest in me like this. I couldn’t help but flex the muscles of my chest and arms a little more than was necessary as I donned a dry shirt.
The rain splattered down so hard on our shelter that I felt sure it would leak. It had been a few weeks since Sarlice or I had rubbed oil into the canvass.
Something hard landed in my lap.
‘Dinner,’ Sarlice shouted, to be heard over the storm.
I unwrapped the paper around a block of hardtack and stowed it carefully for use starting the fire in the morning. The bread itself was tasteless, dry and hard—an offensive meal for a quartermaster’s apprentice, but I was hungry and downed it in a few minutes.
Shoving our gear a little further down, the three of us managed to lie lengthways in the tent, side by side with Sarlice in the middle. There was no point having someone outside on guard tonight. Sarlice closed her eyes, lost in conversation with her Rada-kin. Even though their words were private I could sense Kestric’s focus on my guide.
I had put Rekala out of my mind, I realised, almost blocking her. She had continued to hunt in the rain, her great blue paws squelching in the mud. Her prey was upwind—a silverspotted doe with a fawn. The mother, limping, seemed unable to get out of the bog on one side of the lagoon. Rekala put her out of her misery, but spared the fawn. It was old enough to find the herd by itself.
‘Ah, so you are still there,’ Rekala said, sensing my attention on the waves. ‘Finished posturing before blacky?’
‘Her name is Lira,’ I replied icily, ‘and I wasn’t posturing.’
‘Sure you don’t want to come out here and skin this, first?’ Rekala asked, recalling our first hunt together. ‘You could mend the holes in your shirt with this unless, of course, you want them there.’
‘Nay,’ I replied, hearing another reference to Lira between Rekala’s direct thoughts. ‘I don’t want them there, but I’m far too comfortable in here.’
‘Indeed.’
As we neared Telby City Lira confessed to me that she didn’t enjoy living it rough. That morning she’d eaten fistfuls of mulberries without realising the dark purple juices would stain her pale skin for days. She was adamant about covering her face with a veil despite the late hour of our arrival.
‘Some people wear them in mourning,’ she said. ‘Nobody will know I wear them because I don’t know how to eat mulberries.’
‘It’s nearly midnight. You won’t even be noticed,’ I replied.
She slapped me on the shoulder from her position behind the saddle. Sarlice laughed, but my own chuckle died in my throat. The land had been climbing slowly for the past few minutes and we paused on a gentle crest. The walls of Telby City were before us, higher and more magnificent than any structure I had ever seen. The pure white gloss of the walls shone orange in the combined moonlight of Capril and Naeva.
When we reached the main gate in the centre of the West Wall I forced myself to appear apathetic. The shining white stone extended either side for close to one hundred horse lengths. Pale orange and blue towers lined the tops of the walls, casting pointed shadows over our path. As we neared the moonlit gate, three guards stepped forward. Sarlice swung down off Duria. Even at this hour I could see movement within the gatehouse. Beyond it the streets of Telby City were mostly empty.
‘Telby City greets you,’ a female guard murmured huskily. ‘State your business.’
The male guard to her right had a less friendly look.
‘We are ambassadors from Jaria and Lyth, here to seek audience with your king,’ Sarlice replied.
The female guard straightened a little and said, ‘You shall have to wait until tomorrow to be received at the palace. You’d best try your luck at one of the inns.’
It occurred to me that Rekala, Kestric or I could reach out to a Telbion Rada-kin to ask if we could stay with their human master, but it would be rude to at this late hour. I also wasn’t in the mood for the complications that might bring. Despite the expense it was easier to remain autonomous by staying at a tavern.
I reached down to stroke Rekala’s head as she came up beside my horse. He was used to her by now. The male guard stared at my enormous, blue tiger companion. I didn’t like the way he ran his eyes over her pelt, as i
f sizing up how much money he could get for it.
‘This is your beast, is it?’ he asked me.
My reply was drowned out by Rekala’s roar of challenge. The guard took a step back.
‘Here to see the king, eh?’ he stammered. ‘How do we know you’re not a Sleffion assassin with skyearl fiends hiding in the forest as well as these beasts?’
Sarlice intervened with a strong tone of voice. ‘We are what we said we are—on my word as a Kriite.’
The male guard was unmoved, but the female soldier nudged him and they retreated a few yards to talk. Little did they know that Rekala could still hear them. The male muttered something about wild Rada, but the female finally convinced him that if we were here with winged skyearls we wouldn’t have entered through the front gate.
‘Pass,’ the guard growled, ‘but stay away from the Zeikas or you won’t be coming out the way you came in.’
Sarlice crossed over the threshold between the huge blue-gold gates.
‘My first visit to Telby City and it’s riddled with Zeikas,’ I muttered.
Lira shifted behind me, wrapping her arms tighter around me.
I’ll protect you, I thought.
A shiver went through my tired muscles. The gatehouse opened onto a broad slate road with rows of shops. I stared into them as we passed, amazed to realise there were enough people in Telby City to warrant a shop called Buckle and Sash. We passed bakeries, blacksmiths, jewellers, alchemists, cartographers and stone-masons. Buildings owned by the king were of ochre orange sandstone. Soon they became a blur of amber to my tired eyes.
I blinked and looked behind us. The slate road had given way to large, round cobblestones. They were dark from summer rain. I realised Lira was staring up at me as I looked around. With considerable effort I dropped my eyes to hers. Not being able to see her mouth through the veil gave me a strangely pleasant sense of frustration.
‘You seem like a child at the Winter Festival,’ she giggled. ‘You don’t know what to look at first!’
‘I do,’ I replied quietly, gazing at her.
What little I could see of her skin through the veil flushed pink. It only made her even more attractive. I laughed to cover my own embarrassment.
‘What a magnificent town,’ I said to change the subject. ‘Will we see the palace soon?’
‘The guards said it’s too late to announce our arrival tonight,’ Sarlice protested. ‘Aren’t you tired?’
‘Let us simply look upon it,’ Lira argued. ‘Come along, the palace is this way.’
With her hand over mine, Lira pulled on the left rein and nudged the gelding with her ankles. We followed the main road past the first town circle and along a forested path towards the palace. It was poised on a steep bank, trees and shrubs clinging to the castle walls. Red and cream turrets and spires twisted from the outer walls, reminding me of blood and bones. Though a magnificent sight, a sense of foreboding crept out at me from the palace. This place, this bastion of power, signified the fate of my people.
A narrow river flowed right up to the palace, forming a moat. A southern and northern gangway allowed entry into the palace from either side of the river. Guards manned both gangways. Their expressions were stern and focused despite the tranquillity of the evening. I raised my eyes to take in the full height of the palace, and gasped. Capril and Naeva had risen high in the sky like two guardians hovering over it. Stars shone through a veil of clouds.
Lira pointed to the largest of the turrets, ‘That’s where the king keeps some of his treasure. The only way in is over that bridge going from the spire to the east.’
Sarlice looked at her in surprise. Duria snorted.
‘You know your way around here well,’ said my guide.
‘My family had some connections,’ Lira replied smoothly. ‘I’ve been here before, for the king’s Winter Ball.’
I wondered what it would be like courting a woman of Lira’s birth, attending balls and feasts. A Demaeda noble wouldn’t normally be seen with the likes of me, probably, but if Lira was the sole surviving heir, perhaps it would be up to her whom she courted. The magnificent palace, the clear cold night, and the company I was in gave me a sense of awe and appreciation. Anything seemed possible.
‘Nothing has changed since I was last here, except for the guards,’ Sarlice said, killing the mood.
I sighed, but my curiosity was piqued. It might be useful to know what was going on in the palace before we came here on the morrow. ‘How many were here before?’ I asked.
Lira replied before Sarlice could, ‘None. Flale is afraid the Zeikas have it in for him.’
Was there an edge of bitterness—even scorn—in her voice?
‘I would be, too,’ Sarlice replied.
‘I wonder why he lifted their exile then,’ I muttered.
Lira led us away from the castle and we passed the large fountain in the Town Circle once more. She took us to a tall tavern nearby, named Three Storeys. Sarlice waved a sleepy stable boy back to his hay bed. We put the horses into a small undercover pen, gave them hay and water, brushed them down and hung their tack out on a beam nearby.
Sarlice strode ahead of Lira and I, set down her gear and opened the heavy wooden door of the tavern. It creaked loudly and the foyer inside was dark and quiet. The stable boy pushed past us and disappeared up the stairs. Realising we may have to wait a while I put down my gear as well.
After ten minutes or so a stocky-looking woman came from one of the rooms upstairs, holding a lantern and a tin of spare oil. The boy trudged back outside, casting a wary eye at our tigers.
‘Rada travellers are you?’ The woman’s eyes were sad.
‘Aye,’ I said.
Rekala shook herself, and the whitish-grey fur of her ruff bristled. I ran my fingers through it and she made eye contact and chuffed at me.
‘Are Rada-kin welcome here?’ Sarlice asked.
The woman sighed. ‘Here, aye. Telby City, less certain. There have been… incidents of late. Whether it’s Zeikas or that new anti-Ra… well anti-something cult—nobody can be sure—many Rada have been disappearing. Some even turnin’ up face down, if you know what I mean. And the dead ones weren’t just your average Rada neither. Usually Tolites or ancient-bloods, what do they call them—Unzai?’ Her tone became lighter. ‘But the deaths have been getting fewer and farther between.’
I clenched my teeth. Rekala’s fur stood a little higher, but her keen senses detected no threat nearby. The incident out the front of Bessed’s cabin came back to me. I could almost smell the blood that had been spilled from Feera, Jaria’s previous Anzaii. Could that same spy cult, the Wavekeepers, be involved in these murders here in Telby?
‘Perhaps the deaths are getting fewer because the targets are fewer,’ Sarlice muttered angrily.
The woman’s gaze fell on Sarlice then travelled to Lira. For a moment she looked suspiciously at her veil, then realisation dawned in her eyes.
‘Oh… I’m sorry dear, you must think me heartless. To have been talking on about murders like that when you’re obviously still in mourning, yourself. What kind of rooms for the three of you?’
‘We will pay eight silvers for one room,’ Sarlice answered. ‘Plus food for ourselves, an entire goat for our Rada-kin and feed for the horses we put up in your stables.’
The woman blinked several times, came to some kind of calculation on her hands and seemed about to protest. After a look into Sarlice’s determined eyes, however, she nodded tersely.
‘Of course,’ she said and led us up the stairs, down a creaky hall and into a dark, musty room. Reeds were strewn on the floor, but they did little to mask the scent of too much humanity in too little space. There was no window and I surmised the room was not touching an outer wall. A refurbished supplies cupboard, again. Being stuffed into this rat-hole made me long for the clean, fresh air of the forest and a roof of stars. Seeing my sneer of disappointment, Lira patted my hand.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘I don’t e
xpect we’ll be here long.’
A stream of warm air flew by my face. Light stroked the horizon. From my perch atop Three Storeys I could just make out land beyond the walls of Telby City. Compelled from sleep in the close quarters of our room, I had wandered listlessly in the dawn. As much as I enjoyed being with Lira, Sarlice and the Rada-kin, it was sometimes blissful to be alone. I had even left Tiaro behind, in her case, with my things.
I drew my knees up and rested my arms on them. On the streets below me, dozens of people were already moving about. From my privileged position I perceived them as distant strangers, wandering the road of life in a sort of dream. If King Flale knew I was sitting up on one of his buildings like I owned the place he would probably split crystal.
A wave of foreboding passed over me. I was going to try to meet the king of Telby today, and I wasn’t confident his thoughts toward Jaria and Lyth were friendly. Perhaps he feared the Rada and therefore found the independent nature of Jaria and Lyth threatening. For a kingdom that prided itself on its modernism, Telby was remarkably ungrateful to those who had helped make it what it was. Although the Realm Wars had occurred before I was born the prowess of the Rada throughout Telby in those days was legendary. Hardly a battle took place where the shapeshifters hadn’t played a crucial part.
I wondered how much of Jaria’s history I would need to know for my conversation with King Flale. Given that he had come to power the year I was born and subsequently lost three of the four realms his brother Aabyn had gained, Flale may not wish to discuss much history. Still, I couldn’t help worrying that my knowledge would come up short.
I didn’t know what to expect from the king, or even how to approach the possibility of getting him to sign the papers Namal had drawn up. Jaria’s best trade goods were on offer to Telby, but I wasn’t sure if all the leather, gems and spices in the world would be enough to entice the king to protect us from the Zeikas. What if he wanted something else from Jaria, a request the leaders hadn’t prepared me for?
Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) Page 21