The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence

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The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence Page 6

by Storm Constantine

Raven appeared troubled.

  ‘I’m nearly adult,’ Loki said. ‘I’m supposed to be Aralisian, a politician. Aren’t I? I should know the truth.’

  Raven smiled, and it seemed directed inwards on a memory. ‘Sometimes we forget,’ he said. ‘We forget how quickly our harlings grow.’ He sighed. ‘All right, I’ll speak to you as an adult, but only if you react like an adult and keep it to yourself. It’s best you hear from me anyway I suppose, rather than from some har who just wants to gossip.’

  Loki swallowed. He felt apprehensive, wondering if he’d asked for more than he could cope with.

  ‘Your hostling was once close to Galdra har Freyhella,’ Raven said. ‘Pell and your father were parted for a while, and in that time, we went to war. Galdra worked with Pell intensively during that time, very... intimately. Everyhar knew he fell in love with Pell. Some say he acted opportunistically, taking advantage of Pell when he was vulnerable. Some say he had designs to take Cal’s place as Tigron. Personally, I don’t think he had any real agenda; he was just besotted.

  ‘But whatever plans he might or might not have had, he was cast aside when Cal returned. Cal made sure of it. I hope you can understand now why Galdra seems a bit prickly around you. You were conceived almost immediately after Cal came back to us. And then, for whatever reason, Cal named you for an ancient Freyhellan deity. Galdra must see that as a mordant joke. Knowing Cal, it was meant that way. I’m sorry. It’s best you should know. In the future, you’ll have to deal with this tribe.’

  Loki actually felt relieved. He had thought it would be worse than that. ‘It makes sense to me,’ he said. ‘Cal wasn’t pleased about what Galdra did. He stole a name, because Galdra tried to steal something important from him.’

  Raven put his head to one side. ‘Astute,’ he said. ‘He took the name because he could. Galdra could never take what he wanted.’

  ‘Pell became close to Galdra because he looks like Cal, and Cal wasn’t there.’

  Raven laughed. ‘Already you are learning about more than one form of politics. Relationships can sometimes be more complex than any inter-tribal dealings.’

  Loki felt very pleased with himself, proud of his conclusions. It all made perfect sense. Perhaps, in his dealings with the Freyhellans, he should be more accommodating. Galdra had been hurt. Now he had to endure Cal’s presence here. It must burn his skin like acid. And I am living proof of a love he couldn’t have, Loki thought. The cells of his body had reacted to Galdra, because once Pellaz had been close to him. Pell’s memories were inside him in some way. ‘Did my hostling ever love Galdra?’ Loki asked.

  Raven frowned. ‘I can’t answer that. How can I?’

  Dinner was held in the Hall of Assembly, where long tables had been laid out to accommodate around sixty guests. Galdra, perhaps grudgingly, invited the Gelaming to share his table. Eyra sat on one side of him, Cal on the other. Loki sat next to his father, one side of his body freezing cold, owing to the invisible pane of ice that separated Cal from Galdra, the effects of which crackled far. Amazingly, they were able to converse in stilted fashion. Cal was on his best behavior and didn’t mention Pellaz once, Loki noticed. Eyra kept up a professional stream of conversation – a hardened diplomat. Terez and Raven, sitting on Loki’s other side, appeared to befriend the hara near to them. The flowing mead and wine might have had something to do with that.

  ‘I’ll send some of my Listeners to Freygard,’ Eyra was saying. ‘The phenomenon should be monitored constantly. It might be best if you cordoned off the area.’

  Galdra nodded shortly. ‘I’ll see to that now.’ He glanced at Cal. ‘Previously, a word from the Assembly was enough to keep our hara away.’

  ‘It might be nothing to worry about,’ Cal said. ‘I’ll take another look tomorrow, open a portal next to it.’

  ‘Is that wise?’ Galdra asked.

  Loki could almost hear Cal’s unspoken response: As if you care!

  ‘Probably not,’ Cal replied, ‘but it might produce results.’

  ‘I don’t want to put my hara in danger.’

  Cal smiled politely. ‘Trust me, tiahaar. I do know what I’m doing.’ He stood up. ‘Please excuse me for a moment.’

  As he left the table, Eyra turned to speak with Velaxis. Loki became excruciatingly aware that he and Galdra were sitting next to one another, with nohar else to talk to. He felt he wanted to say something, but had no idea what. Eventually, inspiration struck. He cleared his throat. ‘Tiahaar…?’

  Galdra turned to him and Loki’s confidence nearly fled. He grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and plunged on.

  ‘It is my wish…. I will be part of the Hegemony in a few years. It is my wish for there to be no bad feeling between us.’

  Galdra raised his brows, smiled. ‘Tiahaar, there is no bad feeling between us. Of that, be assured.’

  ‘I understand the history,’ Loki said gravely.

  Galdra laughed. ‘Do you?’

  Loki glanced at the Freyhellan, and realised that perhaps he didn’t understand at all. Raven didn’t know everything, clearly. ‘I wish only to build bridges between our tribes.’

  Galdra reached out and briefly touched Loki’s cheek. When he spoke, his speech was formal. ‘My dear harling, you already are a bridge.’ He stood up. ‘I think perhaps you were brought here as a spear, but it does not wound me. Far from it. Your hara speak of courtesy, yet they do me the greatest discourtesy. Perhaps it is done in ignorance. I have no way of knowing.’

  ‘Tiahaar…’ Loki felt strangely helpless; the situation was spiraling beyond his control.

  Galdra raised a hand. ‘Please. Enough. With those words, I should perhaps excuse myself also.’ He bowed his head respectfully and left the table.

  Loki watched him go. There was a quiet dignity in Galdra’s posture that spoke of great pain. Loki’s face was flaming. He was a symbol of all Galdra had lost, brought here to pour bitter salt into a wound. That must be why he’d felt ashamed in Galdra’s presence. He wasn’t sure what feeling gripped his body, and for a brief moment wondered whether it was some kind of adult thing. But no, it didn’t feel like that. It was something else.

  Chapter Five

  Shortly after their founder, Tyr, wrested power from what was left of humanity in the area, the Freyhellans devised their own alphabet, a new set of runes, imbued with symbolism that embraced their androgynous condition. These runes were called the Harrark, and they were used to write down the history of the tribe. On the day the Gelaming came to Freygard, the historian of Freyhella began to record recent events. He wrote it in a beautiful hand, on the thick creamy pages of a book crafted by local hara. Within the words, as subtle as a faint scent borne on a soft breeze, twined the story of Pellaz har Aralis and Galdra, archon of Freygard. Its specter still haunted the soul of the tribe.

  The Gelaming Hegemony had never paid an official visit to Freygard. Before the second war with Fulminir, this was because Tyr, who was then still archon of Freyhella, had had a great mistrust of any tribe setting themselves up to be superior to all others. Then Tyr was murdered in a mysterious fashion and Galdra became archon. Tyr’s death had been the catalyst that forced Galdra to contact Immanion, albeit with the greatest of misgivings. And during the following conclave of tribes in Immanion, as Wraeththu attempted to consolidate to ensure a safe future, Galdra had fallen in love. It had been a love doomed to tragedy.

  After the war, the distance between the Gelaming and Freyhella increased. Hara might have spoken about it together, safe in their dwellings, but no official statement came from the Hall of Assembly. Everyhar was aware of some of what had transpired, and felt that Galdra had been used. Tigron Pellaz was a hard and ruthless creature. Although Galdra did not show it, many believed his spirit was, if not broken, then cracked and bleeding. He had wrapped part of himself in the banner of his pride. He had put it into a secret chest and locked it away. The light of Freyhella had dimmed, if only slightly, and the hara of the tribe could not forgive the Gelaming for
that. Many waited for the day of retribution, for they felt that it would come.

  Their historian recorded the events of the first official visit. He wrote of how Calanthe har Aralis went to the site of the spirit window and had there used his ability to open an otherlanes portal. Cal quickly discovered that the phenomenon, whatever it was, was not a gateway to the otherlanes. It was something else entirely, a different kind of portal. It would not allow him to enter it, even though he was brave and foolish enough to try. He learned only one thing. It was an exit, not an entrance. But whatever might squeeze from it, he could not say. It was beyond his experience.

  The Freyhellans dreamed strange dreams. They saw shadows from their windows. They heard whispers in the rustling of leaves, in the song of the wind through the fishing nets strung out to dry. They were haunted.

  The historian did not record everything, because some things were kept from him. He did not know that Galdra spoke privately to the Hegemony officer, Terez har Aralis, or that he gave Terez something to carry back for him to Immanion. Why he should have trusted Terez at all is perhaps a puzzle, but he did. He gave the Gelaming a letter.

  Pellaz har Aralis too was haunted, and had been from the moment that Loki had hatched from his pearl. While the greater part of his family was in Freygard, Pellaz dreamed of Galdra every night. Several times, he almost told Caeru the truth, because he thought he might burst if he didn’t. But he also knew it would be folly to do so. Some secrets had to remain secret, and the greatest secret kept in Immanion at that time was that Cal was not Loki’s father.

  To overthrow the forces of Ponclast, erstwhile leader of the Varrs, and his otherworldly aides, who were ranked against the allied tribes, Pellaz and Galdra had performed Grissecon, ritual aruna, on many occasions. They had learned strange and amazing new things about the magic of Wraeththu sexuality, but ultimately they’d had to use it to fight. The climax of that conflict had had a debilitating effect on them.

  There is a special kind of aruna, which hara had always believed was used only to create new life. Pellaz and Galdra had learned otherwise. They learned that hara could enter the etheric realms through the cauldron of creation, that strange phenomenon that could not be called an organ exactly, since it existed both within and without the harish body. Now, it was known the cauldron could enable contact with distant points and otherworldly entities. It was not just for reproduction after all. Pellaz had been able to prevent conception during the work, but on that final occasion, when the outcome of the conflict hung upon Pell’s expertise and strength, his defenses had been down. He hadn’t guarded himself sufficiently, and Loki had been the result.

  A son of the noble houses of Freyhella and Gelaming could have been disastrous. It would have given Galdra more power than some hara in Immanion wanted him to have. Although Galdra did not know it, he had allies too: those who would gladly have seen him take Cal’s place at Pell’s side. Cal had to protect his position, and part of doing that had been to claim paternity of Loki. Politically, both Tigrons had considered it the right thing to do. The Tigrina had never been told the truth.

  Pellaz, who was far from stupid, realised what a dangerous game he was playing, allowing Loki to go to Freygard. He wondered whether Galdra would recognise the harling as kin, and part of him secretly hoped he would. It was not that Pellaz intended to wound or taunt. Part of him pined for Galdra continually, and he knew that should he dare to lay eyes on the Freyhellan again, old feelings could be resuscitated very quickly.

  This would be awkward in many senses. For a start, Cal was not sympathetic to Galdra, so therefore any relationship between the Freyhellan and Pellaz was out of the question. Then there was the possibility that factions within the Hegemony, who were still suspicious of Cal, might attempt to use Galdra to oust Cal from power. Through Loki, Galdra could rightly try to claim power in Immanion: the conception of harlings was regarded as sacred by Gelaming. Pellaz had been trapped into a bloodbond with the Tigrina through a similar event many years earlier, and this could be taken as a precedent. Pellaz did not want to risk that happening. Any political scuffle, apart from being humiliating and potentially dangerous, would effectively kill any fondness he had for Galdra.

  And fondness remained. It was the ghost in his bedchamber on the nights he slept there alone. It haunted his dreams. Over the years, he’d learned to live with it, slightly puzzled why another har could have such an effect on him, seeing as Cal was his soul mate, part of his being. It troubled him he could feel that way.

  While the Hegemony delegation was in Freygard, Pellaz felt on edge. He wished he’d put his foot down and stopped Cal taking Loki with him. He knew there were going to be difficult repercussions, but he’d been stupid. However, when most of the party returned, after only two days, it seemed his fears were groundless. Eyra had remained in Freygard and two of his Listeners had traveled to join him. Everyhar else had come back to Immanion.

  Pellaz questioned Cal at the first opportunity, which was when Cal came to the Tigron’s office to make a report away from the ears of others. ‘Galdra doesn’t drop a grudge,’ Cal said, ‘but he knows he needs us. The atmosphere was strained, but not exactly hostile.’

  ‘And Loki?’ Pellaz asked. He was turning a fragile paper knife in his fingers, trying to resist the urge to snap it in two.

  Cal pulled a wry face. ‘The Freyhellan was not impressed by his name, but other than that, I think it was fine.’

  Pellaz sighed. ‘I hope you’re right.’

  ‘What can he do, anyway?’ Cal said, sitting down in a chair opposite Pellaz. He put his feet up on the desk top. ‘There’s no proof of what happened with you two.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Pellaz retorted. ‘If he chose to make an issue of it, Eyra’s hara would sniff out the connection in seconds. Nohar has seen it because nohar has looked for it. You and Galdra look alike. But if the Listeners put their minds to it, Loki’s heritage would scream out at them. You should know that.’

  ‘I don’t think the Freyhellan would do anything,’ Cal assured. ‘He’s still too angry. He wants no connection with Immanion.’

  ‘Does he have a son in Freygard?’ Pellaz asked.

  ‘Not that I saw.’

  Pellaz grimaced. ‘Then don’t say he’d do nothing. Loki is half his. Nohar can be so angry as to deny a harling.’

  Cal raised one eyebrow. ‘Excuse me, father of Abrimel?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Pellaz said darkly. ‘That was very different.’

  Cal got up from his seat and went to Pell’s side. He gripped Pell’s shoulder. ‘Loki enjoyed himself. He was in his element. He’ll make a fine hegemon one day.’

  Pellaz reached up to touch Cal’s arm, then turned his head to kiss it. ‘You are very good to him. It’s like he really is your son. That means a lot.’

  ‘He is my son,’ Cal said. He sat down again, this time on Pell’s side of the desk. ‘I raised him.’

  ‘Doesn’t his parentage ever bother you?’ Pellaz asked.

  ‘Why ask me this, after all these years? Isn’t it obvious the answer is no?’

  Pellaz nodded. ‘I know. I don’t know why I asked that.’

  Cal leaned over to kiss Pell’s forehead. ‘I do. Don’t worry.’

  ‘And the phenomenon you studied? What of that?’

  ‘I’m not sure. We’ll talk later. I need to rest.’

  Terez came to Pell’s apartment in Phaonica after Cal had left. Pellaz had the distinct impression that his brother had been waiting for Cal to leave, which was strange. It also made his heart beat faster. He took Terez to his office and closed the door. ‘The meeting went well?’ he asked, sitting down behind his desk once more.

  ‘As well as it could,’ Terez said. ‘The phenomenon does need to be observed. Nohar knows what it is. I expect Cal told you about it.’

  ‘Not really,’ Pellaz said. ‘He’s tired. We hardly discussed it.’

  ‘It’s definitely some kind of portal, but doesn’t seem to be associated with
the otherlanes. The Freyhellans have witnessed strange things, something like shadows. So far, nohar has been directly threatened, but until we’re sure what the phenomenon is, we should all be on alert.’

  ‘That makes sense. Get our esteemed general, Ashmael, to send hara to Freygard too, as protection.’

  Terez drew in his breath. ‘Galdra might not look kindly upon that. Technically, Freygard does not come under our jurisdiction. The Freyhellans are still independent.’

  ‘I know that,’ Pellaz said. ‘But Galdra is stupid if he refuses our aid. If anything should happen, and he loses hara because of it, he’d be furious with himself. Get Ashmael to send some of his hara. If there are any repercussions, direct Galdra to… direct him to Tharmifex.’

  Terez raised his brows. ‘To the Chancellor, not to you?’

  ‘It would not be the best action to direct him to me.’

  Terez sighed. ‘You know, I’ve been in two minds whether to do this or not.’

  ‘Do what?’ Pellaz asked.

  Terez reached into one of his jacket pockets and pulled out an envelope, which was crumpled, as if he’d crushed it in his fingers many times. He held it out. ‘Galdra asked me to deliver this to you.’

  For some seconds, Pellaz stared at the envelope as if it were drizzled with poison.

  ‘Will you not take it?’

  Pellaz stood up and came from behind the desk. He took the envelope from Terez and with his back to his brother, opened it. Inside was a single sheet.

  Pellaz, we must meet. I could come to Immanion or you could visit Freygard. The choice is yours, but I expect you would prefer discretion.

  It was a pleasure to meet Loki. You must be very proud of your achievement.

  G

  ‘Damn,’ Pellaz said.

  ‘What does he want?’

  Pellaz turned back to his brother. ‘He wishes to speak to me.’

  Terez gestured with one hand. ‘Understandable. Perhaps he wonders why you did not come to Freygard with us. You haven’t spoken since before the final Grissecon at Fulminir. That leaves a lot unsaid, my brother.’

 

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