by Emma Miles
Dia felt dread settle like a stone in her stomach and she put down her own food. ‘I’m glad you didn’t investigate alone. We must do so, of course, but I am loath to send all these Walkers down there; it’s dangerous enough for us all to be in one place.’
‘I could go back with some men when we reach Otter Hold.’
It would be the sensible thing to do, Dia knew, but if there was trouble on the island the sooner they found out, the better.
‘Take Dorthai and get closer,’ she said. ‘Don’t put yourself in danger but see if the homestead really is empty.’
Heara popped the rest of her bread into her mouth and nodded. She made her way over to the young warrior and tapped him on the shoulder, speaking a few swift words. He looked around to Dia, and she gave a single firm nod. Dorthai quickly gathered up his things and followed the scout between the trees.
‘Trouble?’ Arrus asked.
A ripple of concern spread through the walkers and warriors.
‘Heara has spotted something that might be of concern.’ She forced a smile, willing Arrus to understand that this was not the time to discuss it. ‘She’s going to take a quick look. Come on, we shouldn’t be dawdling, let’s get on our way.’
Arrus frowned but didn’t argue. They packed away their supplies swiftly and Arrus sent two of the Fulmer Hold warriors out to scout in Heara’s place. He remained at Dia’s side as they followed the sun westward. The path took them back out of the forest and through hilly meadows where a few curly-furred cows grazed; young calves unsteady at their sides. Campion and gorse splashed the harsh coastal grass with pink and yellow; a single small hut standing among them. A man sat outside watching them as he turned the handle of a butter churn.
‘Larissa, Corvun, pop down and warn that cowherd we may have an enemy loose on the island and catch us up as quickly as you can,’ Dia commanded the walker and one of the warriors.
‘I’ll go with them,’ Arrus offered.
She watched anxiously as the three of them hurried away, glancing back over her shoulder frequently until they were lost to view as the path took them down a steep incline toward a river valley. It was only moments later that movement caught her eye and she spun quickly to see not just her husband, but Heara and Dorthai jogging toward them.
Dorthai’s face was grey and her best friend looked no better.
‘Heara?’ She hurried back to meet the scout.
Heara shook her head; a little out of breath. ‘It’s not good.’
‘Not good!’ Dorthai exclaimed. ‘It’s …’
Heara gave him a shove to quiet him as the others gathered around.
‘Comfrey farm has been attacked.’ Heara looked at them all. ‘I found some of their animals wandering in the forest and circled around to check for tracks. I found signs of fighting; signs of a slaughter. No bodies remain but for on—’
Dorthai made a retching sound.
‘There was a baby. What was left of a baby. It had been eaten.’
‘By animals?’ Dia asked, praying to the spirits that her friend would say yes.
‘The teeth marks were human.’
Dorthai turned and vomited. Dia had to grab for Arrus’s arm as the ground seemed to pull out from under her.
‘The other bodies,’ Arrus said through gritted teeth. ‘Could they have been eaten?’
Heara shook her head. ‘The other bodies walked out of there.’
‘Then they were not dead.’ Ufgard said.
‘They were dead,’ Heara said emphatically. ‘The blood on the ground told of their deaths. The tracks that left were like those of the creatures that came ashore on Fulmer Beach. Dragging, sporadic, occasional signs that they had fallen. The tracks become surer as they go along; as the creatures learnt to walk again. Only one set of footsteps are sure and purposeful; they arrive, move about, then depart with the dead.’
‘The necromancer,’ Dia breathed.
‘He is building a new army with our people. Women and children too.’
Arrus drew his sword. ‘Men! With me!’
‘No!’ Dia cried out, raising an arm to stop him. ‘We must get all the walkers safely to Otter Hold! Ufgard, send four of your men ahead to gather your warriors and send out messages to the other holds. As loathe as I am to delay we must make our walk tonight and after that, I and two other walkers will join your warriors to hunt the necromancer. Your warriors should not try to engage the necromancer himself lest they be taken and turned against u—’
Ufgard went to protest but Dia shut him down with a glare.
‘This is no time for hurt pride! And I am aware that I’m leaving families out there in danger.’ The words caught in her throat. ‘That will be the task of your warriors. They must evacuate the area and keep the necromancer from turning more. If they get a chance to kill any of those turned, they must do so; but I say again! Do not engage the necromancer!’
‘But the others were killed with steel. You said so.’ Ufgard looked from Dia to Arrus.
‘Only after I crippled his power with fear,’ Dia replied softly. ‘Tread carefully. We do not know what other magic they have or how much stronger this man is.’
Reluctantly, Ufgard pointed at four of his warriors. ‘Be quick. We don’t want to lose any more lives.’
‘I should go.’ Heara touched Dia’s arm.
Dia’s heart clenched. She didn’t want to risk her friend, but Heara was the best there was. ‘Be careful.’
‘That goes without saying.’ Heara kissed her cheek and then beckoning at the chosen warriors with a wave of her hand she set off at a fast run.
‘We need to go too,’ Dia said.
Arrus nodded, looking around to judge the walkers and assess their fitness. ‘Let’s go.’ He set off at a fast walk and the others fell in with him.
***
They reached Otter Hold with the sun low off the west coast. Ufgard’s wife, Kerin, came out to meet them.
‘The warriors and scout, Heara, set out two hours ago,’ she told them, her eyes darting from one walker to another and her hands fidgeting before her. ‘Siphenna is waiting and we’ve nearly finished building your ritual fire.’
‘Thank you.’ Dia hugged the older woman.
‘We’ve fetched water for you to refresh yourselves, would you follow me?’ She invited the walkers.
Dia turned to Arrus. ‘I’ll see you later.’
He nodded, remaining with Ufgard as the women followed Kerin.
Every hold had a guest house by tradition and Otter Hold’s had been set aside for the walkers. Dia was grateful as it allowed more privacy, if less safety, than the alcoves of the great hall. Siphenna was sitting silently in a chair outside the door with a young girl of twelve attending her. Siphenna had soft white hair, as fine as down, that contrasted strongly with her walnut skin. She was small and dainty looking as though made of tiny bird bones. Her skin was as lined as pine bark and her stunning eyes – grey and dark blue – had dulled with age. She smiled at the walkers as they approached and holding to the arms of her chair stood carefully.
‘It is good to see you, my girls,’ she said, as fondly as though she were mother to them all.
Dia was first to kiss her wrinkled cheek, careful of the silky thinness of her skin. She smelt of sweet honeysuckle. The others lined up behind to greet her, the last offering her arm so they could walk into the guest house together. Dia gasped at the coldness of the water as she splashed it over her face and neck and pulled her fingers through her hair to tidy it. Karin offered her some nettle tea and some oat cakes sweetened with honey.
‘I’ll leave you.’ The lady of the hold gave a small bow and gestured for Siphenna’s assistant to come with her.
‘Thank you!’ Dia called after her. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and sipped at the tea, looking over her mug at the women who remained in the room. Outside the sun had set, and the light had taken on a blue-grey hue.
‘You are afraid, Icante,’ Siphenna said gently.
> ‘I am afraid,’ she admitted, causing a ripple of concern to sigh through the other walkers. With these women there was nothing to be gained by pretending to be stronger than she was, or surer than she was. ‘The first Chemman we killed was easy. He came with mortal warriors and seemed to have little power himself. He used elemental magic, drawing flame to his hand. Kesta and I drew wind and water against him and Shaherra put an arrow though his heart.
‘The second Chemman, as you know, was much stronger; his army larger and included the dead. We killed him because the fire-spirit burnt his ship and he came ashore disorientated; afraid of burning and drowning. I caught him off guard, fed his fear to incapacitate his power. Worvig finished him.
‘But there was another man with him. One we did not know of. Either he was not on the burning ship or he got away unseen. As we now know he seems to be recruiting himself a new army of dead by killing our men, women, and children. Heara can track him; but I’m afraid that if our warriors attack him, they will become his warriors. I propose that we walk the flame together to petition the spirits of the fire to give us wisdom and grant us aid.’
‘Such a thing was done when I was very young,’ Siphenna’s eyes grew distant. ‘The spirits did not come forth to speak, but our enemies were destroyed. I did not know I was a walker then; I watched the ritual fire from a distance and prayed to the spirits that I might one day join those women.’ She sighed and straightened up. ‘The light is gone. It is time to ignite the flame.’
The fuel for the fire had been set several yards away from the stronghold and close to the cliff edge. Several warriors stood a respectful distance away, facing outward, to keep watch for danger. Dia went to check the small bonfire’s construction and be sure that everything was there that should be. Among the kindling and logs were plaited wreaths and ropes of prayer grass along with the dream herbs; mugwort, mint, burdock, and asparagus and valerian roots.
She walked around it twice to quell her nerves and then took a seat beside Siphenna on the cold ground. Without prompting all the women touched their hands to the earth, palms down, then reached forward to lift the bowl that had been placed ready before them. They drank down half of the cool water and placed back the rest. Dia took in a long deep breath, feeling the air swell her lungs and then reaching out both hands she took that of the woman to each side of her, forming a circle with their limbs. Calling on her magic she agitated the air just within the piled wood, creating heat until fire burst forth and ate hungrily at the kindling. Smoke began to rise and Dia triggered the part of her brain that allowed her to slip free and walk.
She became aware of the other women in the flame, at once part of her and separate. Of all of them Siphenna’s presence was strongest, like a spark of lightning that did not dissipate. Instead of seeking to move to a place, Dia strengthened her awareness of the fire in which they were immersed.
‘Great flame, we petition for your guidance and aid. Your Walkers are in danger and our people are being enslaved by blood magic. Hear our prayer, spirits of fire.’
‘Hear our prayer, oh spirits of flame,’ the other women chorused.
For a long moment Dia feared that there would be no reply; but she felt something slowly grow stronger and larger as though it were liquid squeezing through a small portal. Excitement and fear flowed from the other walkers mirroring her own. On many occasions she’d sensed the presence of a spirit within the flame, some even guided her in what to see. None had ever communicated with her.
‘Speak, daughters of the flame,’ it crackled and spat.
Dia hesitated, but another voice took her place, sounding infinitely young. Siphenna spoke, ‘Flame father, one has come to our island to steal your daughters of flesh and murder the people of the fire-walkers. He is from another land and uses the magic of blood to command the dead. We fear his power and know not if we can defeat him. Can you help us?’
‘I have already done so, at the behest of another.’
With a mixture of excitement and apprehension Dia realised that this must be the spirit that had burnt the ship!
‘We thank you!’ But who was it that had petitioned the spirits before them? Could it have been Kesta?
‘The dream-walker of Elden sent word.’ The fire-spirit sighed and softly hissed. ‘Bad things awake with the blood. No one is safe, not even ancient spirits. We will help, but you must help us. The blood sorcerer you seek knows that we are against him and set a trap. He has a fire-spirit caught in his possession and will force it to cause destruction against its will. I cannot defeat him alone this time. I am Doraquael. I will come through into your realm; but for me to stay long we must keep a balance. A spirit for a spirit.’
‘Done!’ Siphenna said at once.
‘And done!’ Doraquael replied before Dia could protest.
‘Now see with me,’ Doraquael breathed.
Dia was pulled deep within the flame, the vortex through which they hurtled so bright in hues of orange and red that it hurt. Fear gripped her at the speed at which they moved, and awareness of her physical self tattered away. On they dove, swirling patterns too quick to make sense of assailed her senses. Then they slowed and as her eyes adjusted, she saw through a window the ward of a stronghold far below her in which figures moved. Her heart gave a leap of joy when one turned, and she knew it was her Kesta; but she was torn away almost at once as the image spun about and they looked within the small room of a tower. A man lay upon the floor, one hand flung out as though reaching for help. He had skin too pale for the Fulmers, but too dark for Chem, Elden, or the Borrows.
Then, as though picked up by a fierce wind, she was dragged out of the tower and once again they tumbled through the fiery funnel. There was a sickening sense of unravelling and her ears roared. For the briefest of moments, they looked upon a man in his early thirties with long black hair and a short, neat beard. He glared at them with cold blue eyes …
Then Dia found herself thrown backward against the hard ground, her head slamming against the earth and her teeth clacking together. The prayer fire exploded upward in crackling sparks of blue and she pulled herself up onto her elbows to scramble back. She looked around quickly to check on the others and saw that Siphenna hadn’t moved. The eldest walker sat still, facing the subsiding bonfire, slumped forward slightly as though dozing. Dia crawled across the hot, scorched grass and took hold of Siphenna’s shoulder, crying out as the woman fell back.
Her eyes looked emptily up at the night sky.
Siphenna was dead.
Chapter Nine
Kesta: Kingdom of Elden.
Rosa finished pinning her hair and Kesta sprang to her feet and looked out of the window to the Raven Tower. The birds seemed subdued this morning, three out on the roof but none in the air. There was a hint of a glow through Jorrun’s window so he either had a fire lit or was burning candles even though the sun was coming up. A shadow moved behind the glass, arms moving as though gesticulating speech.
‘I think he has someone in there with him.’
Rosa stepped to her side and leant forward to peer across. ‘You have better eyes than me, I can’t see anyone.’
She frowned. ‘It looks like he’s talking to someone.’
Rosa sighed. ‘What dress do you intend to wear for the king?’
Kesta waved a hand disinterestedly so Rosa picked out the green day dress. Jorrun’s shadow moved out of sight and movement below caught Kesta’s eye. People were back out working in the ward. She dressed and went down for breakfast; Catya was already at the table.
‘Catya, does anyone live in the tower with Jorrun?’ Kesta asked as she sat down.
‘No, lady.’ Catya shook her head.
‘You’re certain?’
‘I only take enough food for one and often that gets left.’
‘You go in the tower?’ Kesta sprang to her feet and Catya shrank back.
‘No, lady! I’m allowed just inside the door to leave and take the tray; that’s all!’
‘I did
n’t mean to startle you, Catya, I’m sorry.’ She sat back down. ‘And my name is Kesta, not lady.’
‘What are you going to do today?’ Rosa asked.
‘I guess I can’t go digging up herb beds when we don’t know what time the king will arrive, but we should at least have a walk around to encourage everyone and see how it’s going.’
‘That would be appropriate.’ Rosa gave a wry smile.
Kesta poked her tongue out at her which made Catya giggle.
***
They walked around the ward first, stopping to talk to the workers, including Adrin who was charming and friendly. As they walked away Kesta heard some of his warriors teasing him about her. It made her feel as though a centipede walked down her spine and mild nausea settled in her stomach. They went down to the boat yard to say hello and then walked the circuit of the clearing around the stronghold. Already a dozen trees had been felled and trimmed. As they came back to the stronghold, Tantony came out to meet them and for a moment Kesta feared that the king had arrived already.
‘Nerim’s boy, Nip, just came by from the stables,’ Tantony said. ‘Did you know that a horse arrived for you yesterday? They said you hadn’t been in and apologised that they hadn’t thought to send word.’
‘No. They did tell me that a horse would be coming for me, but I didn’t know when.’ She hurried off at once towards the stables with Catya at her heels. Rosa and Tantony smiled shyly at each other and followed at a more sedate pace.
As Kesta rounded the keep approaching the stables she came face to face with Adrin. Despite the fact it was overcast he’d taken off his shirt to work. Kesta was so startled she stopped abruptly and Catya walked into her. Adrin put his hands on his hips and flexed his muscles with a grin. Kesta’s skin flushed, and she gritted her teeth, wanting to put him in his place but momentarily stumped for anything smart to say. She narrowed her eyes and walked away. Behind her she heard Tantony growl, ‘Put your clothes on! We have ladies at the hold now!’
She reached the stables feeling rather warm and spotted Nip at once.