‘And there’s this,’ Kheda said abruptly. As Risala turned back, he dug into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a string of tiny shark’s teeth pierced and threaded on a narrow leather thong. ‘When I was taking the omens at the pearl reefs, they caught a shark for me. There was an infant shark inside it. It nearly bit me as I read the entrails.’ He tossed the shark’s teeth necklace over and Risala caught it reflexively. ‘An infant shark alive inside its mother? I’ve never heard of such a thing.’ Risala looked wide-eyed at the talisman for a long, tense moment. ‘The last wild wizard, the one that we had to hunt down, he wore a necklace of shark’s teeth. Is that what you’re thinking of? What do you think such a sign could mean?’
‘I don’t know what I’m thinking,’ Kheda said rather wearily. But yes, I remembered that savage wizard.’ The warmth of his blood on my skin when I caught him and cut his throat from ear to ear. The weight of him in my arms and the stench of his death. Dev tells me to souse such memories in liquor. Is that why the barbarians drink so much, to make killing easier? Don’t they see how that devalues their deeds?
‘After I left Itrac and Rekha, I spent most of that night seeing if Chazen’s forefathers recorded any lore on sharks that might explain such a portent.’ Kheda shook his head. ‘I found nothing to make sense of it. But after what you said about not having fulfilled Shek Kul’s commission, it set me thinking how we need to be free of all these invaders and all their mysteries.’ He looked at her. ‘That applies to you and me as much as to the Chazen domain. We can’t look to our future until we’re free of the past.’ Risala made a noncommittal noise. ‘Then let’s get rid of these last savages as soon as we can. What exactly do you want me to do?’
Kheda looked out across the broad blue channel where the fleet of boats was riding a substantial swell. ‘We know they are still infesting the Snake Bird Islands.’ He gestured towards green tufts of islands barely visible on the horizon. ‘And I very much doubt any would manage to escape the Gossamer Shark’s patrols, even if they didn’t simply drown in these waters. All the same, I want to be certain there is still no sign of any of the vermin lurking in Balaia or Dalao.’ He turned to look at a scatter of long, low islands on the far side of a vast reach of shallows where sea grasses grew thick, placid brown and grey turtles grazing on them. ‘Can you sail around the villages and make doubly sure for me?’ Because I can’t spare any swordsmen for such a duty. Because even if I can’t take you to my bed, I’m torn between wanting you close to me but wanting to keep you out of danger.
Risala looked around the small fleet idling on the waters. ‘I take it there’ll be someone keeping station hereabouts, for me to report to and who will send you a courier?’
Kheda nodded. ‘The Yellow Serpent has earned that privilege.’
‘Then let’s be about it.’ Risala looked up at Dev’s impatient face and smiled sunnily before offering the string of tiny shark’s teeth back to Kheda.
He waved it away. No, you keep it. The one piece of shark lore everyone agrees on is that their teeth are a talisman against drowning or their attack. I want you kept as safe as possible.’ He looked at her and hoped she could see the longing in his eyes.
‘You keep yourself safe, too,’ she said huskily before lifting her fingers to whistle shrilly to the trireme. Now go on and do what you have to do.’ She turned her back on him and went to unlash the little ship’s tiller, to guide the Amigal close to the looming trireme’s stern.
Kheda watched the dangling rope ladder carefully and caught it deftly. He climbed, resolutely not looking behind him.
There should be no secrets between us. Every time I say there aren’t, I wait for the thunderclap or some other sign in a clear sky to set everyone wondering who the liar is and what falsehood has been spoken. Though I haven’t lied. I just haven’t told you all I might. When we have time to ourselves, there’s more I will tell you. Will you be able to explain it to me? In all Rekha’s endless chatter about the Daish domain, how they are thriving, all the children and Sirket most of all, as she gave me message after message from Janne, she made no mention at all of Sain, beyond assuring us in passing that Daish’s erstwhile third wife is prospering in her trades for the domain.
Did Sain truly send no message? Am I dead to her? Or is she so full of hate or sorrow that there was no expressing it? How well did I serve her, in offering her Daish wealth and status in return for alliance with her brother’s domain of Toe, with its sheltered sea lanes to the eastern reaches, beyond Ulla Safar’s fat and grasping hand?
None of the women who’ve shared my bed seem to relish the memory or to have profited by it. Itrac Chazen doesn’t even want to take the chance. Hadn’t I better wait for some more hopeful portent before embarking on any new liaison?
Especially with Risala. I never felt such longing for a woman before, such fear that I might lose such a jewel.
‘Are we ready to go, my lord?’ Dev reached out a hand and helped Kheda over the Gossamer Shark’s stern rail.
‘We are.’ Kheda nodded to the shipmaster, resolutely ignoring the dull ache of desire for Risala that perversely was slower to fade every time he thought of her. ‘Let’s make for the Snake Bird Islands, Master Mezai.’
‘As you wish, my lord.’ The mariner waved a signal to the rowing master on the oar deck below and folded muscular arms across his sleeveless mantle, a short garment of pale blue patterned with waving sea grasses. The rowers bent over their oars and the sail crew hurried to spread the great expanse of billowing canvas hanging from the square-rigged mast to take advantage of the wind at their stern. Even with this bonus, the rowers still toiled long and hard to cross the dark-blue waters where the shallows fell away into mysterious darkness. His record of these reaches tucked in his lizardskin belt, Shipmaster Mezai stood close to his helmsman, lending his strength to the steering oars as the fierce current sought to drag the heavy vessel off course. Kheda watched astern as the little fleet slewed across the waters, fighting the insistent tug of the seas that would so easily sweep them out to battle the dangers of the open ocean.
We have different battles to fight and I have calculated our voyage carefully to arrive on this day of such ill omen for our enemies. The Greater Moon is dark and rides unseen in the arc of the heavens where our foes might look for signs in their favour, while the Lesser Moon has moved to the arc of alliance where the Mirror Bird spreads its wings in defiance of magic, to reflect the future from the heavens to the earth beneath.
He felt the solid weight of one of Chazen Saril’s star circles in a pocket of his trousers. It was one of the smallest ones, barely the size of his palm, as well as one of the oldest, the engraving on the brass plates worn faint and the metal dull with use.
A good choice for a talisman as I seek to protect this domain, surely? This isn’t a good time for delay, though. A few days and we’ll see one of those curious cascades around the compass that realigns the heavens completely.
‘Time to get your armour on, my lord.’ Dev’s impatient voice brought him promptly back to the prospect of a fight.
If I can’t enjoy the release I long to share with Risala, I can at least work out some of my frustrations with a sword.
By the time Kheda had donned his padded under-tunic and gleaming hauberk, this time remembering his hated plated leggings, the Gossamer Shark was entering the placid turquoise waters between a small reef and an even smaller island. Two fast triremes followed her, with the three additional heavy vessels that made up this armoured flotilla bringing up the rear. A white beach lay like a crescent moon against a thin strip of meagre forest sheltered by the central rise of the island. The long grassy hillock reached from one end to the other, falling away on the far side to a ragged shoreline of broken rocks offering no haven for any vessel.
‘There was only the one village here?’ Kheda surveyed the wretched remnants, now silent and empty among the nut palms and berry bushes. The little settlement still showed all the devastation the invaders had wrought. All b
ut the largest huts had been torn apart by unnatural winds summoned to some savage mage’s service. Unquenchable fire called out of the empty air had burned the sailer granary to ash, now washed by the rains into a black stain between the charred stilts that had held the precious store aloft. Paradoxically among all this destruction, the invaders had built a crude stockade from rough-hewn forest wood. One side of this had been broken down where Daish or Redigal swordsmen had rescued those hapless Chazen islanders who had been thrown inside. The half-hearted attempt at a ditch dug across the open beach was already filling with windblown sand and the sharpened stakes that had been cut to give it teeth were tossed haphazardly at the bottom.
By the time the rains come again, I don’t want to see any such signs of ruined lives and hopes left standing to blight our future. Let that be a test of my leadership, that I did right in taking on this troubled domain. That I did right in bringing barbarian magic to deprive those savages of the magic they relied on, so that we could finally put them to the sword.
‘Do we know for certain there are still savages hiding out here?’ Dev demanded, leaning over the side rail to peer intently into the tangle of vegetation.
‘We hear them in the night, if we anchor off the reef Mezai nodded dourly. ‘Shouting their gibberish. There are screams, sometimes.’
‘You’re sure there are no Chazen islanders left here?’ Kheda demanded.
‘Sure as we can be.’ A frown creased Mezai’s broad face as he rubbed a hand over his sweating head. Some ancestor from the far western reaches had bequeathed him sparse, tight curls that dotted his head like peppercorns.
‘Let’s make quite certain, shall we?’ Dev grinned viciously at the Gossamer Shark’s fighting force now lining the side rails. A full complement for the heavy trireme, drawn from the Beyau’s hopeful warriors, was and eagerly seeking out any sign of their elusive foe. The archers in particular were keen to find a target for their newly forged battle arrows. ‘I don’t imagine they’ll last long against Aldabreshin steel with their fire-hardened pointy sticks,’ the mage continued confidently.
Just how do you expect to learn anything from these savages, even supposing we can capture one alive for you to interrogate? Just how does a wizard go about seeking such answers, anyway? Some torment of sorcery? How do you expect to do that undetected?
Kheda glanced at the barbarian before turning to acknowledge the swordsmen’s commander as he approached the stern platform. ‘Are all your men ready, Arao?’
‘They are,’ the tall warrior confirmed, his face the colour of old bronze in the bright sun. His armour was mismatched and well worn and he moved in it with the ease of long familiarity. His swords were some of the finest Kheda had ever seen.
‘Remind them that these savages might still be rousing themselves with that root pulp they chew,’ Kheda said tersely. ‘If they are, they’ll fight through pain that would ordinarily drop the bravest Archipelagan.’
‘I remember.’ The warrior cracked the knuckles on his dark-brown hands. ‘I told the lads.’ Kheda saw the swordsmen looking his way and favoured them with a confident, approving smile. He looked for Ridu but couldn’t pick the youth out of the armoured mass.
‘Do we know if there’s water here year round?’ Arao looked to Mezai. ‘If so, we can look for them at the springs.’
‘There’ll still be water here for at least another turn of the Greater Moon,’ Mezai confirmed. They drew closer to the shore and a shiver of anticipation among the Gossamer Shark’s swordsmen sent a rattle of chain mail the length of the boat.
‘We’re not going to learn anything paddling around out here,’ said Dev abruptly. ‘Let’s get ashore and start turning over rocks to see what crawls out.’
‘I’d say they’re hiding in those scrubby trees.’ Arao peered at the meagre forest running around the margin of the little island.
‘Then let’s reclaim this land for Chazen.’ Kheda looked from Arao to Mezai. ‘Signal the Dancing Snake, the Shearsword and the Brittle Crab to land their forces with us. I want the Green Turtle and the Lilla Bat to circle around to the far side and come in as close as the coral allows. We’ll beat our way across the island, dig out any burrows and kill whoever we find. They can fill anyone running out of the trees with arrows, and any of them trying to swim for it on a nut log or some such. They may have made rafts.’
Arao nodded. We don’t want the vermin on the other islands knowing we’re here to put paid to their wickedness any sooner than need be.’
‘My lord.’ Mezai blew lustily on his curled signal horn. The light Green Turtle and the heavy trireme the Lilla Bat immediately wheeled about, each ship showing a curl of white foam like bared teeth along its brass-sheathed ram.
There was absolutely no movement among the ruined dwellings as all four remaining triremes deftly turned stem-on to ground on the shelving white sand. Stern ladders were thrown down from the Dancing Snake and the Shearsword and the warriors slid into the shallow water, swords drawn and fearsome challenge in their shouts. They raced ashore, the twin columns from the two heavy triremes spreading out to line the beach with steel, sunlight bright on their armour. Earl boat’s swordsmen looked to their captain. The captains shared a nod and all began a slow advance up the white sand. They reached the village unchallenged and then stopped.
As the Gossamer Shark’s warriors disembarked to wait in reserve on the water line, Kheda saw a few men prod with their swords at ragged panels of woven palm ripped from huts. Others gathered together in uncertain knots, glancing at their captains for guidance.
Every man as tense as a jungle matia out to kill a cornered snake, confident in its sharp white teeth and thick brindled fur but with no wish to risk a bite all the same. And if you had a matia’s striped tail, you’d be lashing it, wizard.
‘There’s no one to fight,’ said Dev with disgust.
‘There’s something amiss.’ Kheda moved to the ladder, his feet feeling sweaty, cramped and clumsy in his armoured leggings. ‘I’m going ashore. Tell them to shoot anything that looks like a threat.’ Kheda gestured to the archers now clustered along the Brittle Crab’s decks and on the fast trireme’s stern platform, searching the threadbare cover of the trees and bushes in vain for any target.
‘My lord.’ Mezai didn’t dare openly disapprove of Kheda’s decision but his feelings were obvious. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any immediate danger.’ Dev was peering intently at the scene on shore.
As he spoke, one of the Gossamer Shark’s sword captains moved up the beach to a heap of debris and levered a fallen palm panel aside. He recoiled sharply and swords rose on either side of him in a snarl of bright steel.
‘Let’s see what’s what, my lord.’ Dev’s voice was tight with frustration.
Kheda nodded, seeing faces turning towards the poised ships, a few of the swordsmen pushing up the visor plates of their helmets, visibly bemused. ‘Whatever it is looks to be more of a puzzle than a threat.’ Dev was already sliding down the heavy trireme’s stern ladder with alacrity. Kheda hurried after him, the crystal water of the shallows dragging at his thighs. An unmistakable, loathsome scent tainted the lazy breeze as they reached the shore. Sickly sweetness with an underlying rankness twisted Kheda’s stomach and he saw dark smears in the furrowed sand half-concealed by the trampling feet of the swordsmen. So it’s not such a hardship after all to have some leather between your feet and whatever slaughter went on here.
The armoured men parted to let the warlord and his supposed slave pass, seriousness on every face, coloured by confusion.
‘What have you found?’ Kheda demanded of the battle captains.
‘Dead meat,’ said the senior man from the Dancing Snake helplessly.
Kheda frowned. ‘Let me see.’
‘And keep a watch while we do,’ snapped Dev, shooting sharp glances in all directions.
The other captains shouted orders, sending their men to line the forest edge and bar any attack from the paltry trees. The Dancing Snake’s man l
ed Kheda to the pile of rotting palm panels and the scent of decay strengthened.
‘There’s a body?’ Kheda looked from the Dancing Snake’s sword captain to the Gossamer Shark’s Arao, demanding an explanation. ‘Ours or theirs?’
‘Hard to say.’ Arao hooked the corner of the topmost panel with his sword and hauled it aside. Blue-backed flies buzzed with displeasure, scattering to circle around the men’s heads before returning to their enticing discovery. It wasn’t a body—at least, not all of one. There was just a foot, not even with the stump of its ankle attached. Half-buried in the dark, stained sand beside it was most of an aim, raggedly severed half-way between shoulder and elbow.
Kheda sank to his knees to study the remains more closely, trying not to breathe in the putrid smell. In death the skin was a greyish muddy colour, bruised and swollen. In life, it could have been any of the vibrant brown hues that characterised the Chazen people.
Or the dark skin that the invaders hide beneath their paint and mud.
‘I’ve seen shark kills washed up in pieces like that,’ Arao said dubiously.
‘I’ve heard tell of fishermen losing feet to beaked turtles. Could it have just washed up here?’ The Dancing Snake’s man looked at Kheda with more hope than conviction.
‘This hasn’t been in the water,’ Kheda said firmly.
‘How long’s it been here?’ asked Dev.
‘A couple of days.’ Kheda noted the tiny yellowish maggots clustered along the raw surface of the severed foot, fighting blindly to squirm beneath the skin and gorge on the bounty beneath. Flies aren’t fussy feeders. Pearl oysters, human flesh, it’s all the same to them.
Arao swallowed hard and looked down the beach. ‘We’d better find out what else is here.’
‘Yes,’ said Dev absently. He was staring across the beach towards the trees, his eyes distant.
You’re fidgeting as if you’ve got maggots under your toenails. And from the look in your eyes, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you ‘d been pickling your wits with your cursed barbarian liquor.
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