Northern Storm ac-2

by Juliet E. McKenna

  Visceral loathing of magic curdled Kheda’s belly.

  But you were the one who brought Dev here, as the only hope you could find to battle the savages’ wizards. And you still owe him a mighty debt, after he nearly lost his life n doing so.

  Oblivious, the barbarian mage was gazing at the beautiful pavilions. ‘Itrac Chazen has worked wonders, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Indeed,’ Kheda agreed, his face a neutral mask.

  Because what little wealth this devastated domain could salvage has been traded for pretty tiles, costly marbles and whitewash to cover the smoke stains. And men and women have been taken from trying to rebuild their pitiful homes to bring shiploads of clean sand to cover the blood on the beaches.

  But how could they believe themselves secure or have any confidence in their future if they did not have their warlord and his lady displaying the pride and honour of the domain in their luxurious home and their lavish household? What other domains would deign to trade with Chazen if all we had to offer was a pauper’s hovel?

  He glanced across to one of the anchorages cut into the reef to accommodate any deep-keeled ship visiting this restored seat of Chazen power. A great galley wallowed between sturdy hawsers secured to wooden piles driven deep into the coral. Oars were shipped in their ports on the middle of the three roomy decks, rowers doubtless now resting in the vast cargo holds beneath. Varka gulls wheeled around the tops of the three permanent masts that were always ready to take advantage of any wind that might aid the toiling oarsmen in their voyages between the domains.

  My shoulders ache just at the recollection of taking an oar on such a vessel.

  ‘One of yours?’ Dev asked Kheda as he studied the galley with interest. ‘Daish’s, I mean.’ Kheda chewed his lip. ‘It’s the Sun Bird. Rekha Daish’s favourite ship.’

  Her favourite sun birds are the roseate kind barely bigger than the thumb-sized myrtali flowers they feed from. That’s the only gardening Rekha does, cultivating the bushes to attract them. Tiny birds, so dainty and quick, and she names a lumbering hulk for them. Why did she do that?

  ‘So every man aboard will be loyal to her, with all their hopes of profit tight in her manicured hand.’ Dev regarded the deserted deck of the galley with something perilously close to a scowl.

  No Daish islander ever lost out following Rekha’s lead on what to trade and where,’ commented Kheda. ‘And plenty of warlords’ wives reckon they’ve done well if their ledgers come out even when they’ve concluded a deal with her. You can count the number of those coming out ahead of her over the course of a year on the fingers of one hand.’

  ‘I don’t see Itrac being one of them,’ Dev murmured under his breath.

  No, nor do I, but I don’t see Rekha coming here just for trade, not at the very start of the year when everyone should be close to home and family, to share in the celebrations and debate the auguries of such an auspicious day.

  Sirket mill be taking the auguries alone this year. I hope they are favourable for you, my son.

  ‘She’s brought her own triremes, I see.’ Dev squinted at the lithe vessels with their upcurved sterns and prows anchored in the open water of the lagoon.

  ‘We can hardly take offence at that,’ said Kheda reluctantly. ‘Chazen waters haven’t been overly safe of late.’

  Is that why Rekha’s here, rather than Janne Daish? Second wife rather than first wouldn’t be quite suck an ominous loss, Though the loss of Rekha’s acumen would be a grievous blow to Daish. What is she seeking that she reckons worth the risk of this voyage? What has she brought here in those capacious holds and what might she be looking to take away in them’!

  The Mist Dove lurched gently as the trireme eased into her berth and those rowers taking a rest from their oars to act as the sail crew hurried to secure the mooring ropes.

  ‘So what’s the plan when we’re ashore?’ Dev watched islanders ashore throw ropes to enable the trireme’s crew to haul a floating walkway alongside.

  ‘I’ll go and read the immediate auguries from the obser—

  vatory while you see what Itrac’s come up with by way of suitable finery for me.’ Kheda nodded at the modest tower rising three storeys high beyond a low pavilion set alone on the most easterly islet. He grimaced. ‘Then I will greet my present lady wife and we’ll discuss how best to deal with my former spouse.’

  ‘Do you think there’ll be a cat-fight for your favours?’ Dev chuckled unsympathetically. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather sail straight for the western isles and some open, honest warfare?’

  ‘Just keep your mouth shut and your eyes open,’ said Kheda brusquely.

  I’d gag you if I thought I could get away with it. You may make a convincing enough show as a body slave when it comes to fetching and carrying and exploiting all the feuds and affiances of a household but you’re not going to be much use in these skirmishes, barbarian. I can’t send you to practise your sword skills with Rekha’s slave; Andit would know you for a fraud before you’d even drawn your blades. So there’s no chance of discreet backhand communications to temper what might be said in public for reasons of dignity or deception.

  Will Itrac be inclined to share whatever she might learn through her Jevin’s not-so-casual conversations? Though he’s as green as she is, both of them out of their depth when it comes to dealing with a seasoned traveller like Rekha. What wouldn’t I give for just one slave as astute and experienced as Telouet? ‘My thanks once again, Shipmaster Shaiam, to you and all your crew. Now, my final order is that you celebrate your new year with all the feasting and merriment that this place can offer you!’ Kheda waved towards a long sand bar in the midst of the anchorage where bonfires and torches were being lit. The pipers from a handful of ships were already playing for a circle of girls dancing between trestle tables being stacked high with platters of meat and steaming cook pots. As the Mist Dove’s crew turned to the prospect with an approving cheer, the warlord vaulted over the trireme’s stern rail without further ceremony.

  Dev hit the planks behind him with a solid thump and a jingle of chain mail. ‘I don’t know about you, my lord,’ he said fervently, but I will be truly glad to get out of this armour.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Kheda strode on ahead to solid ground, taking a fork in the path of raked sand that led towards the observatory tower. Maidservants were coming the other way, all clothed in simple white dresses with embroidery echoing the patterns of the reef fish or the brilliant birds twittering in the trees and shrubs. One carried a basket laden with green leaves wrapped around tiny blue flower spikes, the next a bushel of yellow zera shoots, black earth still clinging to their red roots.

  As the girls bowed and withdrew to the sides of the path, Kheda smiled at them. ‘We’ll be greeting the year’s new stars with a fine feast, I see.’

  ‘Absolutely, my lord,’ one replied, the girls dipping in demure obeisance.

  Two men behind hesitated. They carried a turtle between them in a plaited rope sling, its scaled flippers tied tight to the brown and grey shell as long as a man’s leg.

  ‘We’ll go around you.’ Kheda raised a hand and suited his actions to his words before the turtle hunters could demur. Off the path the ground was sandy, sparse grass soft beneath his feet.

  ‘Turtle meat’s such a rare luxury in the north,’ Dev observed wryly. ‘I never thought to tire of it, but if you could find a sack of pearls for a side of beef, I’d be truly grateful.’

  Kheda spared him a glance as they crossed the swaying walkway to the next small island. ‘I wouldn’t mind a decent-sized deer to roast.’

  But I’ll look ver carefully for the snare that comes with it if Rekha offers me one.

  Clusters of palm saplings surrounded the pavilion on the furthest island, each one sheltering carefully tended seedlings of red cane and vizail. Servants and slaves hovered on the steps, smiles ingratiating, all dressed alike in cerulean blue, trousers and tunics spotless. Gold and silver clasps shone brightly at wrists and ankles and the men a
ll had hair and beards neatly trimmed and dressed with oil. The women wore fresh flowers woven into their braids or tucked behind turtleshell combs holding flowing black locks away from their round, smiling faces.

  Itrac’s doing her best to show Rekha Daish that we of Chazen are no paupers.

  Kheda smiled in return and paused to hand Dev his helmet, then unbuckled his swords. ‘Take this inside, all of it.’ He unlaced the neck of his hauberk and, ducking his head with practised suddenness, shook the chain mail down over his body and outstretched arms. As the weight of the metal pulled the armour to the ground with a rattling thump, Kheda stood upright with a heartfelt sigh of relief and ripped off the sweat-stained padded tunic that had protected him from the bruising rings. He relished the touch of the evening breeze on his sweaty skin, then wrinkled his nose at his own odour.

  ‘Get a bath ready, Dev, while I look for any immediate auguries relating to our return. Send a message to my lady Itrac to say I’ll call on her shortly. Find out if we’re dining with Rekha Daish. Oh, and put the talismans we collected on the voyage in the observatory.’

  Ignoring the uncertain glances the resident slaves were exchanging among themselves, he headed for the observatory clad only in his worn and crumpled trousers.

  Of course I could just strip off and swim in the sea. No, better not set everyone fretting about how I fail to conduct myself with all the decorum of a warlord. There are always so many eyes on me here. And Daish eyes, too, today. What do they see, now I’m no longer their lord?

  Because I am Chazen’s warlord. I chose to seize this domain rather than fight Sirket for the one I was born to. Let’s start this new year remembering that, as I read the skies when the stars align to mark the return of the heavenly compass. But what are the immediate portents for our return? The lowest level of the observatory was a broad circular building roofed with the same turquoise tiles as the pavilion. The tower rose in the centre, a white pillar with its uppermost level open to the sky. Kheda pushed open the door and, ignoring the arches opening to wide half-circular halls on either side, he took the spiral stairs up the core of the tower. The upper floor of glazed black tiles was marked with curling ochre patterns within each quarter of the compass. The carvings on the waist-high balustrade divided each quarter into three. Kheda had no need to read the lyrical script scrolling along the wooden rail, detailing the wisdom of generations in divining the omens that would arise in each arc of the heavenly and earthly compasses. He turned to the east, his expression hard.

  Is it significant that it’s customary to look first to the arc of marriage, when I’m about to dine with one former, doubtless angry wife and one quite likely still resentful at being forced into wedding me?

  The eastern sky was unhelpfully blank. Kheda dropped his gaze to the lavender-tinted sea below. There was nothing to see; no birds in flight, no ripple running against the flow of the waters. There was nothing cast up on the white sand of a distant barren reef or on the narrow shore below him.

  But there is always a portent. Daish Reik told you that. You just need the wit to see it and the skill to read it. Are you still stained by magic, unable to read the signs that tie you to past and future?

  He swung around in an impatient arc, scanning the horizon. The setting sun dazzled him. Kheda raised an involuntary hand to shield his eyes.

  This is where I should be reading the sky, where the new-year stars, brightest in the sky, rise in direct opposition to the coming dawn. This is where our futures will be seen, my own and the domain’s together. For our futures are as one from now on, aren’t they?

  Well, you can’t do that till the sun has set, so what else can you learn from the skies?

  Slowly, he turned back to look at the darkening east. Even with the augural constellations barely visible, Kheda knew exactly where they lay. It took him but a moment to calculate where the vibrant jewels that traversed the heavens would appear as the night deepened.

  There’s nothing to see in the arc that governs marriage beyond the stars of the Yora Hawk that signify adversaries to hand. I hardly need the skies to tell me that. What I don’t see is any clue as to what lies ahead for me in my dealings with Itrac and Rekha both.

  No such confusion clouds the arc of death, next around the compass. The Lesser Moon, the Pearl of the heavens, is a mere nail-paring. With the Pearl the most potent talisman for the Daish domain, is that the final sign for me at the close of the year, that I am truly dead to Daish? The Amethyst shines there, too, gem to counsel reflection and humility in accepting one’s fate.

  But even in the arc of death omens, the Sailfish swims through the deep distances of the sky. That’s a symbol of good fortune when it coincides with either moon, and of life, like the sailfish in the sea rising to spawn in the moonlight.

  Kheda turned abruptly to look to the arc of the compass opposite the faint sickle of the Lesser Moon and the dimly seen Amethyst.

  I should have sought guidance from the heavens before now. There are potent conjunctions in this sky for all who rule. The Diamond will shine there before much longer, gem of clarity of mind, of warding against corruption, talisman for all warlords. It rises in the arc of wealth, both material possessions and those intangible things that a wise man values: peace, health and goodwill. That’s where the Sapphire rides, too, slowest of the heavenly gems tracing through the sky, patient counsellor reminding us to trust our intuition. What do those jewels signify in collaboration with the Sea Serpent’s writhing stars? That’s a sign of mysteries, of hidden forces and conundrums that will be resolved in time. Is that what I must do, bide my time and value what I have, trusting that all will be well?

  The hairs on Kheda’s neck bristled as a cool breeze brushed across his back.

  But there are calls to action elsewhere in the sky. The Greater Moon, Opal talisman for harmony and truth, shines beside the Hoe that reminds us how a man must toil in nurturing the land that supports us all. Constellation and gem are both in the arc of travel. Is this where my journey has brought me, to a future working for Chazen?

  What of the arc of duty? The Ruby calls for courage and shines among the stars of the Spear that reminds all men, rulers most of all, of the need for determination in meeting any challenge. And the Ruby is talisman against fire. With the Emerald there as talisman of valour for all those taking up arms to secure peace. The Topaz that takes a full year to traverse each separate arc of the sky will move into the arc of foes directly opposite, tomorrow when the stars are aligned. Topaz, talisman gem for all who seek wisdom. My path is clear, surely? Let’s start the new year sailing west to put an end to these invaders once and for all.

  Kheda looked across the observatory. A line drawn between the Emerald and Ruby and the Diamond and Sapphire cut across one-third of the circle.

  The last corner of that triangle should offer a potent sign in the arc of the compass governing honour and ambition. What stars are there? The Canthira Tree, symbol of death and rebirth, whose seeds need the fire that consumes the parent before they can sprout anew.

  Can you doubt it any longer, that Chazen is where your future lies, where you must make your mark as man and warlord alike?

  Why does such incontrovertible testimony bring no relief but rather an ever heavier sense of burden? Footsteps in the halls below caught Kheda’s ear. He turned his back on the sky and hurried down the stairs. ‘Dev? Is my bath ready? Oh, Rekha—’

  His erstwhile wife was standing in the archway that led to the west-facing hall on the ground floor of the observatory. Leaning casually against the plastered stone painted with flowering vines, Rekha Daish was long-limbed and effortlessly elegant. The merest sheen of silver highlighted her dark eyes and a gloss of red softened her tempting lips. Her sleeveless travelling gown was a simple affair of fine rose silk, the lustrous colour flattering the warm brown of her flawless skin. The dress was fastened on each shoulder with a pair of simple silver brooches, her long earrings fashioned to match. A necklace in the same design nestled at t
he base of her throat and Kheda noted how the low-cut neck of the gown exposed the firm swell of her breasts. A belt of broad silver links emphasised her slender waist and as she took a step forward, he glimpsed the smoothness of her thigh through the side-slit skirt.

  ‘Kheda.’ Half-smiling, she brushed back a lock of her lustrous black hair that had escaped the confines of an array of silver combs. Silver bangles whispered musically down her arm.

  ‘Rekha Daish.’ Kheda made a formal bow and laid just the faintest emphasis on her domain name. ‘I didn’t expect to see you at this residence at such a time, never mind in my personal halls. Where’s Andit?’ he asked with scant ; courtesy.

  ‘Seeing to my unpacking in the guest pavilion on the central isle. I never knew that Chazen Saril collected star circles,’ Rekha mused, with an inconsequential wave towards the westerly hall where lamplight shone on an array of bronze and copper discs hanging on the walls. Then she took a pace forward and laid one slender hand on his bare chest. ‘You look well, Kheda, for a man we all thought dead and lost to us.

  Forgive my lack of etiquette, but I had to see you for myself, just the two of us.

  His skin tensed at her touch. Her perfume was attar of roses, subtle and intoxicating and powerfully reminiscent of the pale golden blooms, ruby-hearted, that grew only in the compound of the Daish rainy season residence, nowhere else in the entire domain. Kheda looked down at Rekha’s hand, her long fingers tipped with silver-varnished almond-shaped nails.

  Beautifully manicured. Just as Dev predicted.

  ‘It can never just be the two of us.’ Kheda took Rekha’s hand off his chest and stepped away. ‘It never was.’