by Jo Spurrier
‘That’s what I thought,’ Isidro muttered.
‘Then why’d you ask?’
Isidro scowled, waving away the question, and with a frown of his own Ardamon left to see to his own tasks.
Delphine was still at the table, and Isidro turned to Sierra, and then glanced at Rasten. Delphine followed his gaze and stood. ‘I’ll just go and check on the babes,’ she said, and turned away. She’d learnt how privacy worked in the north, Isidro realised.
He turned back to Sierra. ‘You’re going to need power. Lots of it.’
She covered her face with her hands, and nodded.
He looked past her to Rasten and opened his mouth to speak, only to find he didn’t know what to say.
Rasten stood. ‘I’ll do whatever you need of me,’ he said. ‘Whatever you command. You know that.’
Isidro nodded. ‘I know. Would you … would you give us a moment?’
Rasten turned away without a word, plucking a blanket from a pile on the end of a bed. Wrapping it around his shoulders, he went to a corner and curled up on the floor, facing the wall. Isidro remembered how the dogs had nuzzled around him and had to turn away.
‘Issey,’ Sierra said, reaching towards him. Her nails were tinged with blue, and when he caught her hand in his own, her fingers were very cold. ‘Issey, I … if you can think of another way, please, tell me.’
He shook his head. ‘I can’t.’
Tears were welling in her eyes. ‘I don’t want to do this to you again. Not … not when we were finally putting things back together.’
He swivelled around to face her. ‘Will you be alright?’
She nodded as the tears began to spill. ‘I’ll do whatever it takes to get Cam back safe. I have to.’ She drew a ragged breath. ‘Even … even if it comes between us again …’
He curled his hand around the back of her neck, winding his fingers into her damp hair, and kissed her on the forehead. ‘It’s alright, Sirri. It truly is. Just so long as it’s not too much for you to take.’
She glanced around at Rasten. ‘I can handle it. When my power’s running high I can handle anything. And he’s … he’s …’
‘He’s not the same man he once was,’ Isidro said. ‘I know.’
She leant against him, resting her head on his shoulder as her tears soaked through his shirt. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Don’t be. You’ll do what you have to, Sirri, you always will. You’ll never shy away from something because it’s hard, or because it hurts. It’s one of the reasons I love you. Go and find my brother. I’ll be here, waiting for you both.’
Chapter 20
Cam awoke to the rattle of chains across a stone floor. Somewhere very near, a child was singing a nursery song about a bear and a beehive.
He had no memory of how he’d come to be here, but the cloying heaviness in his head and the foul taste in his throat told him he’d been drugged. He was lying in a cell, one wall sealed off with iron bars.
The room was very dark, and he lay on a bed of straw with a filthy blanket thrown over him. Cam levered himself up, and realised then that he’d been chained to the wall by each wrist.
For some time he simply lay there in the prickling straw, trying to recall how he’d come to be here.
The attack in the palace he remembered all too well. The sight of the dagger poised above his eye was clear as crystal in his memory. He’d done his best to brace himself for the pain, for the sudden darkness that would come, willing Sierra not to give in and surrender. Nothing good ever came of giving in, they both knew that. If he could have spoken he’d have urged her to fight, to give them no quarter, show them the folly of attacking a Child of the Black Sun. When they brought Isidro in, bound and chained, it had felt like a punch to the gut, and then when Sierra gave in …
He wasn’t in the palace, he was sure of that. The emptiness of his belly, the ache in his head and the unwashed smell of his clothes told him that some time had passed since that night. He took that as a good sign. If they’d had to move him, it meant they didn’t hold the fortress. The others might still be alive.
The cell and the hall beyond were dimly lit, the distant light so faint and irregular he guessed it must be a single candle. That was interesting — he’d assumed he was in Akharian hands, but if they were using candles instead of mage-crafted lanterns, perhaps he was wrong.
He started to examine the manacles around his wrists, but since the distant candle seemed to cast more shadow than light, his examination consisted mostly of touch.
It did him little good. The manacles could only be loosened with a blacksmith’s tools. The chains gave him no more hope — it’d take nothing less than a hammer and chisel to cut them free. The bolt on the cell door was fastened by a heavy padlock, or so it seemed to Cam as he squinted through the shadows. The chains would not let him close enough to examine it directly. They were, however, long enough to allow him to stand and reach his arms overhead, and so he did, stretching carefully to ease his aching back. He felt as though he’d been hung in a sack and beaten with sticks. ‘By the Black Sun,’ he muttered to himself, ‘I’m getting old.’
The child’s song abruptly stopped at the rattle of his chains, and he heard a quick scuffle of movement, somewhere very near.
A moment later, something appeared at the edge of his cell — a doll made out of plaited straw and dressed in wisps of rag. Clutched in one small, grubby hand, it peered through the bars.
Cam settled onto his heels again. ‘Well, hello there,’ he said. ‘What’s your name?’
There came a sharp intake of breath from the neighbouring cell. ‘Ricca!’ a woman hissed, her voice strained and weary. ‘Ricca, come here! Don’t you bother the man. Come back here at once. I mean it!’ There was another rattle of chain, but the doll and the grubby hand that clutched it didn’t move.
The pair had been here a while, Cam guessed. Long enough for the little girl to know that so long as she was beyond her mama’s reach, there wasn’t a thing she could do to make her obey.
Ricca. He knew that name. The woman’s voice was vaguely familiar as well, but he couldn’t quite place it. ‘Hello,’ he said, pitching his voice low. ‘Can you tell me where we are?’
There was a long moment of silence on the other side of the wall, and he tried to imagine what she was thinking, what it would be like for a woman with a small child in a place like this. For all she knew, he was the sort of mad dog who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt a little girl playing with her dolls.
‘You … you don’t know?’ the woman said.
‘Afraid not,’ Cam replied, tipping his head back against the wall. ‘They had me knocked out for a few days, and then I woke up here … I was in Lathayan before that, though, so I guess we’re not too far away.’
‘Oh? I didn’t know that.’ She fell silent for a moment before she spoke again. ‘We’re in a Wolf Clan fort. I know they brought us south, but I didn’t know how far. What’s it like in Lathayan?’ she said with a wistful note. ‘I heard the new king has taken over, and he brought an army of mages back from the west.’
‘It’s not quite an army,’ Cam said. Mind you, Sirri’s practically an army by herself. If she’s still alive. ‘We were attacked by Akharians working with the Wolf Clan.’
‘Oh,’ the woman said, her voice soft and dejected. ‘Oh. I had hoped …’
‘Mama?’ the little girl said. ‘Mama? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart,’ the woman said, with a rattle of chains as the child climbed into her arms. ‘We’ll see your other mamas and papas and all your sibs again one day. We just have to be patient, and pray to the Gods to make it so.’
‘How long have you been down here?’ Cam asked her.
The woman gave a brittle laugh. ‘It must be four or five months by now.’
‘Four or five months?’ It was hard to fathom anyone being kept imprisoned for so long. It happened in other parts of the world, but Ricalan had no tradition of keepi
ng prisoners for such a term when it took so much time, effort and material to keep a body warm and fed. Crimes were usually punished with fines or flogging, and if the matter was extreme, with exile to the steaming nightmare of Earthblood Temple or a single brief appointment with the headsman and his axe. ‘What …’ he realised the question was utterly ill-mannered, but he couldn’t think how else to phrase it. ‘What did you do?’
‘Nothing!’ the woman snapped, long months of frustration and indignation seeping into the word. ‘Well … unless you count birthing a child with the taint of mage-craft a crime.’
And at once, he remembered where he’d heard the girl’s name, and the woman’s voice, as well. ‘Your name … Is it Marima, by chance?’
Her shocked silence was answer enough. ‘Who in the Fires Below are you?’
‘I met you once,’ Cam said. ‘A year or so ago, after Kell’s old apprentice came to your homestead.’
‘Are you one of Lady Mira’s men?’
‘You might say that,’ Cam said. ‘But why are you here?’
The woman heaved a sigh. ‘Ricca had bad dreams. She … she kept starting fires. Even the warding stones wouldn’t stop them. It was too dangerous to stay, we all could have died. I heard that Sierra the Stormblade was helping fight the Akharians, and that there was an Akharian mage who’d defected to join our folk, and I thought … I thought maybe they could help, that the Wolf Clan would help us get to them. But they didn’t. They turned us over to the Akharians. We stayed in Ruhavera for a while, but then they brought us here, and now I’ve got no idea what they mean to do with us.’
I have a fair idea, Cam thought. Delphine had told him what happened to slave-children with the spark of power. It made sense to leave Marima with the girl in the short term — they’d only have to find another nursemaid, otherwise. When they shipped them south, Ricca would be given to a Collegium family for fostering, and Marima would be sent to the slave-markets.
He raked his hands through his hair with a jingle of chain. ‘Are there any Akharians still here?’
‘By the Black Sun herself, I don’t know. The only folk I see are the gaolers.’
‘Fair enough.’ He sucked on his lower lip, thinking. ‘If your little girl has mage-talent, I don’t suppose she can unlock —’
‘No. Don’t you think I’ve tried that? They made a new stone and hung it on a chain around her neck, too tight to pull it off. You’re stuck here, just like we are. Unless Lady Mira sends someone to bring you back.’
Cam pressed his hands to his aching belly. He’d grown soft in these last few months, with a few days of hunger leaving him feeling weak and ill. ‘So it seems.’ Of course they’d come for him, as long as they were still alive. Isidro, Mira, Sierra, Delphine, and the little ones … it had been easier when it was just him and Issey. There were so many people to worry about now, so many to protect.
‘Marima,’ he said, ‘can I ask you one more question? When do they feed us?’
‘Not for a good long while yet. You just slept through the morning meal, and they won’t leave it around if you’re not awake to eat it. Rats, you see.’
‘Figures,’ Cam said with a sigh.
There was nothing else to do, nothing at all. He closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.
Before a great deal of time passed — he’d been nursing his aching head and cramping belly for only an hour or two, Cam judged — he heard footsteps in the passage, and saw the bright gleam of a lantern sweep across the stone. He shook himself out of his doze and ground his palms against his eyes to clear them. Marima had said it would be hours before the next meal was due. Something else must have brought his captors down into the cells.
Cam struggled to his feet just as the visitors came into sight. Hespero stood at their head, his arms folded across his barrel-like chest as he stopped beyond the bars and studied Cam with a scowl. His guards hovered in the background, together with a young page who looked at Hespero with something akin to hero-worship.
‘Ah,’ Hespero said, ‘you are still with us. Good.’
‘Was there some question?’ Cam said.
‘You’ve been in the land of dreams for three days, lad. In my experience those who wander for so long have a tendency not to return.’
He must have been worried, Cam thought, to come down personally to check on his prisoner.
Hespero stayed where he was, studying Cam for a long moment until he turned away with a shrug. ‘Well and good, then. Don’t get too comfortable here, Cammarian. We’ll be moving on again in a day or so.’
‘Oh? Where to?’
Hespero ignored the question. ‘Just keep in mind that if you give us any trouble, we’ll give you another dose like the one before. Whether you come on your own two feet or trussed up like a bale of goods is up to you.’
With that, he turned to go. Cam started forward, as far as the chains would let him. ‘Hespero! There’s one thing I want to know —’
‘Really? I fear you’ll be disappointed. I’ve no mind to tell you anything,’ Hespero said as he walked away.
‘When did the Wolf become a clan of slave-traders?’ Cam called after him.
Hespero was already out of sight, but Cam heard the footsteps halt.
‘I used to think your clan had honour,’ Cam said. ‘You’ve made it clear that you’ll do anything to rule the north, even if it means trading away your own flesh and blood for the sake of alliances. But even then I never thought you’d stoop to selling a woman and her child like beasts at the market. Well?’
Hespero appeared again, approaching the bars with a swift and angry stride. ‘Hold your wretched tongue, or I swear by the Black Sun herself, I’ll cut it out and send it to your cursed brother as proof you’re still alive.’
So, Cam thought, Issey lives. Or so he wants me to think. ‘You’re no better than the Akharians,’ he said, holding Hespero’s gaze.
With a bellow, Hespero slammed his palms against the bars. ‘And what would you have me do with them? Smother the girl with a pillow? The woman, too? At least this way they’ll live, and life as a slave is still better than the pyre. By all the Gods, they might even use the girl against us one day, but we’re still letting them have her. What’s that, if not mercy? Do you think she deserves it any less than that animal you welcomed into your halls, your grace?’ The last was said with dripping sarcasm.
‘You could let them go,’ Cam said. ‘There have never been slaves in Ricalan, Hespero, we’ve never been a part of that filthy trade. If you go through with this, all the powers of our land will turn against you. Your guardian Wolf will withdraw his protection, and the Black Sun will set her tigers to hunt you down. But you don’t have to do it. Let them go, send them to my people. It’s not too late to take the right path.’
‘Your people won’t live long enough to take them in,’ Hespero said. ‘And don’t you dare speak to me of mercy, of doing what’s right. Do you have any idea what that beast Rasten has done? The Akharians turned him loose on Mirasada in return for his support, and she cursed near brought the palace down with her screams. And since you brought the wretch under your roof, I’m holding you responsible. Don’t waste any time worrying about the fate of your fellow prisoners, Cammarian. I can promise that what’s left of your life will be far, far worse.’
With that, Hespero left, his guards with him, while Cam watched him go in silence, chewing on his lower lip. Once, he might have believed that Rasten would switch his allegiance to whoever held the upper hand, but now … now he wasn’t so sure. If Isidro was right, if Rasten truly was worthy of their trust, then they had an agent on the inside.
Your people won’t live long enough, Hespero had said. That meant they were alive now. That was good, better than he’d dared hope when he woke up in chains. The Akharians only hope of victory lay in killing Sierra, and though there was little else of Rasten that Cam knew for certain, there was one thing of which he was utterly sure … he would let no harm come to the woman he loved. If everyone
were still alive, it could only be because Sierra had been saved, and if she and Isidro were alive then the rest of them likely were as well, and whatever defeat they’d suffered had little relevance next to that. They’d come too far to fail now.
In the next cell, Marima cleared her throat. ‘Are you really the king?’ she asked in a quavering voice.
Cam suppressed a sigh. ‘Something like that,’ he said.
‘What … what happened?’
‘Like I said, the Akharians attacked us. They were allied with the Wolf Clan … and apparently were double-crossed by them. That’s all I know.’
She was silent for a long moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was very small. ‘Thank you. For trying, I mean.’
‘Oh, I’m not done yet. Listen, Marima, I’ve cursed well seen enough of our folk enslaved and abused, and I won’t permit one more soul to be taken from our lands in chains. I’ll find a way to get you both out of here. I swear it.’
She said nothing, and it seemed to Cam that he could feel her scepticism. That was fine, she didn’t have to believe him. He’d still find a way. He’d come up with something.
Isidro shaded his eyes with his hand as he studied the little camp set back from the wind-blasted strand beside a wide, rocky stream. They weren’t far from Lathayan. A good horse could reach here in less than a day, but it had taken his small force much longer since he’d made every effort to keep them hidden.
‘Are you sure?’ he said to the scout.
‘As sure as I can be, sir. There’s a few dark-skinned folk among them, but that doesn’t make it certain — there’s plenty of dark ones among the southern folk who came north. But they’ve got horses, when most folk have no use for the beasts.’ There were half a dozen of them tethered behind a crude windbreak. ‘But what clinches it, sir, is that they’re camped next to a stream chock-full of salmon, but with no nets and no one fishing and no racks for drying the meat. That’s the only reason any normal folk would be camped out here in this blasted wind, and not back in the woods where there’s shelter.’