Northern Storm ac-2

by Juliet E. McKenna

  ‘Who knows? I’m making up theories as I go along,’ Dev said bitterly. ‘I have to bespeak Velindre as soon as we can find some suitable metal.’ Petulantly, he kicked a scrap of weathered bark at the flaccid lump of his chain mail. ‘I could have used a helmet but they’re both at the bottom of the sea.’ Because he can see in any pool of liquid but he needs a magical reflection in metal to speak to this confederate of his. Is it significant, that when I’m willing to countenance his magic, circumstances make it impossible for him to use it?

  ‘Better them than us.’ It took Kheda some effort to sound positive. ‘Let’s build a raft and work our way north through the Snake Bird Islands. If we go well past Dalao before we attempt the crossing, we can ride the current south as we cross it. If we judge it right, we shouldn’t get swept too far past our target, not beyond Balaia at the very worst. We’ll say I saw some omen that drew us to the far side of the current before the dragon attacked.’ The thought of the lie soured his stomach.

  No one will challenge my word; I’m the warlord. The people of the domain trust me to seek out and interpret the portents for them, not to lie and feint and deceive. Perhaps that’s all part of the curse of magic staining these islands. How much more evil an omen is this dragons arrival?

  ‘And another thing,’ he added vehemently. ‘I want no word spoken of any wild mages out there when we get back. We keep that between ourselves. As far as anyone is concerned, the dragon is just a beast like any other.’

  ‘Hardly,’ Dev objected. Not with magical fire at its command.’

  ‘Then it’s a magical beast, but it’s still a beast,’ Kheda said resolutely. ‘Bad as that is, it’ll be worse if those who survived the savages and their wizards last year think such catastrophe is coming down on them again:

  ‘And what will you do when someone stumbles across this wild mage?’ asked Dev sarcastically. ‘I imagine I’ll be as surprised as anyone else,’ Kheda said stolidly.

  ‘We need to get down to the sea.’ Risala peered through the trees, one hand drifting to the half-moon dagger at her belt. ‘Do you suppose the dragon ate all the savages Shipmaster Mezai said were hiding here?’

  ‘If it didn’t, I can burn them to charred bones and no one need be any the wiser. We should worry more about those traps the bastards built.’ Dev scooped up his fallen swords. ‘Watch your step, and leave that,’ he said sharply, seeing Kheda bend down to pick up his armour. ‘You can’t wear that on a raft. If we go over, you’ll sink straight to the bottom and be drowned for certain.’

  ‘True.’ Kheda grimaced. He caught up his own weapons and followed the others down a narrow path between the battered and drought-stunted spinefruit and rustlenut trees.

  Though a warlord losing his armour isn’t going to be seen as the best of portents. That’ll have to be another wager against the future. If we can get back to the fleet, if I can send someone to reclaim such a potent symbol of my authority, then won’t that be proof I’m acting in the best interests of the domain, whatever my compromises with the vice of magic?

  And what if you don’t get your armour back? Will that mean you were wrong to turn your back on your father’s wisdom, on the precepts that guided the forefathers of Chazen and Daish and every other domain? Is it your deeds to this point that have brought the unfettered evil of a dragon upon everyone?

  Apprehension thick in his throat, Kheda followed Dev down the steep slope of the far side of the little island, leaving sufficient wary distance so that any trap catching the mage would miss him. Risala came after the warlord, careful to match her steps precisely to his. The spinefruit trees were more sparsely scattered on this side of the island, which meant that rustlenuts had seized the rains’ recent largesse and were sprouting in all directions. Vicious tangles of strangling vines fought over the open spaces and the ground was riddled with burrows easily as treacherous as any traps.

  At least there are no signs of any but animal footprints.

  ‘Do you suppose the savages ate all the matias?’ Kheda wondered as he jumped to save himself from a twisted ankle when a hollow collapsed beneath his foot. Brindled fur and shreds of dry leaves blew away on the breeze.

  ‘They’ll be deep underground.’ Sweat darkened the spine of Risala’s ochre tunic. ‘They’ve too much sense to be out in the heat of the day.’

  ‘Watch your step.’ Dev wiped his forehead with the back of one hand. ‘It’s a sheer drop to those reefs.’ They went on, cautiously, as the trees thinned to reveal crumbling black and grey rock above seas foaming around exposed corals.

  ‘How do we get a raft down there?’ Risala asked dubiously.

  Kheda looked along the shore in both directions. ‘That might be easier.’ He pointed to a dip in the cliff. ‘I think we can get safely into the sea down there.’

  Dev was looking inland. ‘I can see a spring.’

  Better yet, the damp gully offered a modest sprouting of leatherspear where the twists in the underlying rock forced out the precious water. Kheda drew his belt knife and cut a handful of fleshy spikes. Splitting them lengthways, he slapped them deftly on Dev’s back as the wizard bent to cup his hands under the dripping water. ‘Hold still.’

  Dev reared up. ‘Shit, that stings!’

  ‘Only for a moment.’ Kheda moved to let Risala get to the spring, squeezing juice from the swollen base of a leaf and anointing his own tender skin.

  ‘Let me help.’ Risala shook water from her hands and took a leatherspear leaf, smearing the viscous sap over Kheda’s back.

  Kheda shivered as she pressed her thumbs into the knotted muscles on either side of his spine.

  Just the touch of your hands stops my heart. What have I done to deserve such a woman devoted to me, even when I dare not act on my own desire? Will that be my reward, proof that I am doing right, if I can finally see a way to take you for my own that dishonours no one? If you still want me.

  ‘You sounded very confident about making a raft,’ Dev challenged Kheda as he sliced more strips of leatherspear to soothe his reddened chest. ‘I’ll tell you for nothing that I’m no boat builder.’

  ‘All we need is the right wood and lashing,’ Kheda told him firmly before quenching his own thirst from the meagre trickle. ‘Risala, you cut vines and we’ll look for some likely trees. And we should all look for gourds. We’ll need something for carrying water.’

  ‘Let’s get busy.’ She picked her way carefully along the cliff and began unravelling a skein of strangling vine from an outcrop of rock.

  ‘Dev, we’ll use your swords for the tree-felling.’ Kheda turned to scan the scrubby forest for tandra saplings. ‘I’ll keep mine in case we meet some savage who needs cutting down to size.’

  ‘Of course, my lord,’ Dev agreed sarcastically as he followed Kheda up to a more level patch on the slope where a few tandra trees were holding their own. ‘So how do you know how to build a raft?’

  ‘My father, Daish Reik, took me and my brothers out into the domain on hunting trips.’ Kheda pushed a tandra sapling about as thick as his forearm, testing the tenacity of its roots. ‘We spent as much time learning the nature of the seas and forests as we did hunting. He said we needed to know how our people fed and clothed themselves.’ Despite himself, Kheda smiled with wry humour. ‘And he insisted we learn how to feed and clothe ourselves with nothing more than a dagger to hand. He said even the most skilful augur can’t always foretell what’ll happen. Let’s start with this one.’ He stepped back to give Dev room.

  ‘He wasn’t wrong.’ The mage unsheathed his swords, passing his second blade to Kheda.

  Daish Reik often said there’s vital truth in chance-heard words. Could he have foreseen something in my future to make him suspect that I might need such skills?

  Dev began hacking at the tree. Light as it was, the sappy, fibrous wood caught at the steel. ‘Careful,’ warned Kheda. ‘You don’t want to break the sword.’

  Dev freed the blade, considered his next move and then renewed his assault. �
��So he had you making rafts?’

  ‘More than once.’ Kheda used Dev’s second blade to cut down wrist-thick rustlenut shoots.

  ‘Mind your back.’ Dev pushed at the tandra sapling and it toppled over, the last fingers of wood linking the trunk to the ragged stump snapping with a sharp crack.

  ‘Another handful of those and we’ll have enough for a raft.’ Kheda stuck Dev’s sword in the ground and drew his dagger to strip the bark from the rustlenut wand.

  ‘What happened to your brothers?’ Dev asked bluntly as he threw down a second sapling to crush more burgeoning tandra shoots.

  ‘I thought you knew enough Aldabreshin etiquette to avoid such questions.’ Kheda concentrated on carving a deep notch into both ends of the rustlenut wood.

  ‘It’s just you and me here now.’ Dev was unrepentant. ‘So were you Daish Reik’s firstborn or just the eldest left alive because you were chosen to become the acknowledged heir? I know you people beat the odds by manying off inconvenient elder daughters barely out of their leading strings to change their names, and sons that don’t measure up vanish, never to be mentioned again.’

  ‘I was Daish Reik’s eldest child.’ Kheda slowly peeled a second length of rustlenut with his dagger tip. ‘Thus his heir without any need for such subterfuge.’

  Dev paused to wipe sweat from his forehead and cocked an inquisitive brow. ‘But you said you had brothers. Most warlords make sure they have a few spares, in case one of your noxious Aldabreshin fevers gets the first one. What happened to them?’

  ‘That’s none of your concern.’ Kheda stripped bark with a rasp of his blade.

  Daish Reik taught us all to meet every challenge one step at a time as well. Right from the days when he had us building rafts to see if any of us were fated to drown, relieving him of the decisions that are a warlord’s heaviest burden and gravest responsibility.

  ‘And you call us barbarians.’ Dev grunted as he chopped at the next tree, ripping out chunks of fibrous wood. ‘What are you going to do with any surplus sons Itrac presents you with?’

  Kheda finished notching the second rustlenut wand and tossed it aside. ‘That’s between me and her.’

  ‘What is?’ Risala asked, her scratched hands full of coiled vine, her face curious.

  Dev chuckled and concentrated on bringing the next tandra sapling down.

  ‘Something that doesn’t concern Dev,’ Kheda said shortly. He took up the mage’s second sword again and began slashing the twigs and leaves from the tandra logs.

  Risala studied him for a moment before sitting to twist deft double cords from the wiry vine.

  ‘I wouldn’t be doing my duty as your faithful slave if I didn’t remind you of your duty to get a son or two on Itrac,’ Dev said piously as he joined Kheda in crudely shaping the logs. ‘I’ve heard at least one lot of gossip saying you went looking for a zamorin slave so as not to be outclassed, since Janne Daish plainly cut off your stones and locked them in her jewel case before sending you into exile in Chazen.’

  ‘And you didn’t care to give them the lie by letting them know you’re no such thing?’ demanded Kheda, stung.

  ‘I couldn’t find any gourds that weren’t worn-eaten,’ Risala announced into the tense silence, winding her vine cord into hanks. ‘We’ll have to land as we go to find water.’

  ‘So where are we building this raft? Here or closer to the water?’ Kheda gathered up the sticks he’d been working on.

  ‘Here’s as good as anywhere.’ Risala stood up and looked at him expectantly.

  Kheda searched her face.

  No sign of your true feelings. Is that for my benefit or Dev’s?

  ‘Let’s get the base lined up.’ He bent to drag the tandra logs close together. ‘Dev, you take that side.’ Once the tandra logs were pressed close together, Kheda slid a rustlenut wand under one mismatched end of the putative raft and laid a second across the top. He pressed the notched, springy wood together and nodded at Dev. ‘Keep those ends together. Risala, lash them as best you can.’

  The tandra logs shifted and squeaked as Risala secured the rustlenut struts mercilessly tight with the vine cord.

  ‘I can’t hold it much longer,’ Dev warned, his bare shoulders bulging with effort as he pressed down on the wood.

  Risala didn’t waste any time winding cord around the notches Kheda had cut to secure the lashing on the other side of the raft. Now for the other end,’ she nodded.

  Not bad,’ Dev allowed grudgingly a few moments later as they all straightened up. ‘How do we steer it? And we’ll need paddles.’

  ‘Pass me that cord.’ Kheda stretched out a hand to Risala. ‘Dev, cut a notch in between the first two logs on either side, at this end.’ As the wizard set to with his dagger, Kheda lashed a pair of rustlenut stakes into a sturdy cross. ‘We tie this fore and aft to keep it upright and make a sweep to go in the crook,’ he explained as he fixed its two feet at the end of the raft. ‘And yes, Dev, we need a couple of paddles.’

  ‘I’m getting some water before I do anything else.’ Dev stumped off along the cliff edge towards the meagre spring, peeling the remaining shreds of leatherspear from his chest and tossing them aside. ‘What were you talking about?’ Risala asked quietly, coming to stand close to Kheda.

  He caught her around the waist, bending to kiss her swiftly. Her lips were dry, the skin around them paradoxically damp. She smelled of fresh sweat and old leaves. ‘He wanted to know what became of my younger brothers when my father died and I declared myself warlord in his place.’

  ‘Do you want to tell me?’ Risala asked with studied neutrality.

  ‘I want no secrets between us.’ Kheda held her close and looked into her eyes. ‘Daish Reik’s deathbed decree offered them the choice of a quick, painless death or castration and passing into my hands as zamorin slaves. All but two chose the latter and went to serve Daish unnoticed as spies in other warlord’s households.’

  ‘A better Fate than living zamorin, blinded and imprisoned like Chazen Saril’s brothers.’ Risala shivered despite the heat. ‘Does Itrac know this?’

  No,’ said Kheda with belated realisation. ‘We’ve never discussed it. But she must know I agreed with Janne, Rekha and Sain that they could all keep one son, and send any others to be raised far away. I wanted Sirket to have brothers to stand at his back but not close enough in age to sharpen their daggers to stick in it.’

  ‘You should talk to Itrac about it,’ Risala said, blue eyes serious.

  Dev was coming back and she made to move away, but Kheda held on to her. ‘If we come through this to a future where you might give me children, their lives will be wholly in your hands,’ he assured her. She twisted free of his embrace. ‘Let’s get a drink and make those paddles.’

  After Kheda had taken his turn at the trickle of tepid water, they fashioned three crude oars in stolid silence.

  Kheda picked up one end of the raft. ‘We should be able to get into the sea down there without breaking our necks.’

  Dev lifted the other end and Risala followed with an ungainly armful of paddles and swords. They moved carefully to the dip in the cliff where a dark pool of clear water was sheltered by a greenish-brown outcrop of coral battered by surging waves.

  Kheda looked at Dev. The wizard nodded and they threw the raft into the water. Kheda jumped after it, kicking out as the water closed over him, shaking his head to clear his eyes as he broached the surface. The raft bobbed placidly and he pulled himself aboard, lying flat so as not to overturn it. Catching his breath, he rose carefully to his knees.

  ‘Here!’ Dev tossed the crude paddles down to Kheda.

  The startled warlord caught the first two but the third skittered off the knobbly planks into the water. ‘Don’t throw the swords!’ He laid a sweep in the crock of the cross-frame and forced the ungainly craft closer to the cliffs to retrieve the errant oar.

  ‘I’m a barbarian, not a complete fool,’ said Dev scornfully.

  Risala made a neat dive in
to the sea, swimming around the raft to climb on to the opposite side from

  Kheda.

  ‘Get in as close as you can.’ Dev was lying on the cliff, reaching down at full stretch to offer the swords. Kheda used the stern oar to drive the raft closer to the rocks. Risala reached up and took the swords as an opportune swell lifted them.

  Dev jumped into the sea feet first, sending spray in all directions. He bobbed there for a moment, scouring dirt and dust from his reddened chest. ‘Shit, this stings.’

  ‘Salt water will do a scalding like that no harm.’ Kheda lashed the stern sweep securely into its frame. ‘But the sun will leave me dried out like trail meat without a shirt to cover my back.’ Dev eased himself warily aboard the raft. ‘Let’s have a paddle.’

  With Risala and Dev kneeling, fending off gently before paddling furiously against the implacable thrust of the waves, Kheda wrestled the clumsy vessel through the tortuous maze of corals using the stern sweep. There was no respite out in the open water. Some stray thread of the southern current seized the little raft, threatening to sweep them into the wider waters beyond the island. ‘You steer.’ Kheda shook Risala by the shoulder. He kept firm hold of the stern oar as she clung to him, manoeuvring gingerly around the tiny craft. She took the steering oar and passed him her paddle with a resolute nod.

  Kheda let go of the steering sweep and knelt to join Dev in driving the raft beyond the merciless current’s reach. The knots and lumps of the tandra wood dug painfully into his shins and the searing sun hammered down on his head and back. He was sweating freely, though the breeze snatched away the beams of perspiration on his forehead and chest. It seemed an eternity before he realised that the pull of the water below the raft had slackened. Kheda felt breathless with relief as much as from the exertion They were within bowshot of the next scrap of island.

  ‘Do we want to land for a rest?’ Risala was clinging resolutely to the stern oar, feet planted wide on the rough-hewn logs, her bare brown toes gripping the wood. She nodded at a break in the reef that offered access to the beach.