Betrayal

by Lara Morgan

  Her implication was clear and Shaan nodded. ‘Fine.’ She crossed the room and sat.

  ‘Good.’ Morfessa sighed and when he placed his cup back down on the table, his hand trembled, the pottery rocking on the polished wood as it settled. From the sloshing liquid came the scent of something stronger than kaf.

  ‘So, you have made up your mind, have you, Nilah?’ He spoke to her as if their recent argument had not happened. She regarded him with a closed expression and didn’t reply. He shrugged. ‘You should at least inform your Commander before you go to your council.’

  ‘Besides the fact that he already knows —’ she glared at Shaan, ‘— why?’

  ‘Because that is how things are done.’ He looked up and around as if searching for answers in the air. ‘How do you think you will fight a war without him? Even if you’ve taken half his command off him.’

  Nilah’s lips pinched together. ‘Perhaps I’ll change my mind. Either way, he must do as I say,’ she said, and to Shaan’s surprise Morfessa suddenly let out a coarse laugh and leaned back in his chair.

  ‘Do as you say?’ He shook his head.

  ‘Yes!’ Nilah said, and he lost his humour as quickly as it had come.

  Eying her solemnly across the table he said in a quiet, sad voice, ‘You are a fool, my child, and will long regret this.’

  For a moment Nilah stared at him, white faced, then she rose to her feet, tipping her cup and plate to the floor. ‘Get out!’ she shouted. ‘Your advice is no longer needed.’

  Shaan stayed very still while Morfessa, with a weary sigh, got to his feet and left the room, taking his cup with him.

  Nilah stayed standing, pale and shaking, then went to the window. Silence reigned for a time before Shaan realised she was crying. Unsure what to do she got up quietly to leave, but Nilah turned from the window.

  ‘No. Stay,’ she said. Her eyes were red with tears. ‘Please.’

  Shaan said, ‘Why are you doing this, Nilah? How can you really believe the Free Landers are a bigger threat than Azoth? I’ve told you about him, you’ve heard of the serpent attacks, and the city is full of refugees.’ She took a step toward her. ‘Tallis went to one of the villages where all of the children and old folk had been killed. That wasn’t the Free Landers, Nilah, that was Azoth’s creatures.’

  Shaan wondered if she should tell her about Rorc’s planned trip to the Clans. Maybe if she knew her Commander was going away she would think twice about going to battle. But Nilah might try to stop him and then where would they be?

  ‘Nilah,’ she tried again. ‘You have to stop this.’

  ‘I can’t. It’s too late,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve already told Lorgon.’

  ‘What?’ Shaan stared at her. ‘How could —’ She controlled her anger with effort. ‘You’re the Guardian, Nilah, reverse it.’

  But she shook her head. ‘They’ll crucify me.’

  ‘What can they do?’ she cried. ‘You’re the Guardian, it’s your decision.’

  ‘Yes, and I bet that’s what my mother thought too,’ Nilah said. Her face was white as tears threatened again. ‘I know it wasn’t the diplomat who murdered her, I know what Rorc said is probably true. I’m not as stupid as he thinks. I’m scared, Shaan. I don’t want to die.’

  Shaan saw she was telling the truth, but she struggled to find sympathy for her. ‘No one wants to die, Nilah,’ she said. ‘But death is coming anyway. Azoth is bringing serpents and an army to enslave us all again. I know it. I feel it. And he won’t stop. You need to do this. You’re the Guardian, you’re supposed to protect the people. Do your job, Nilah.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can.’ Her voice was low, frightened, but she had stopped crying.

  ‘Then I guess we’ll all die,’ Shaan said. ‘You should have signed an execution order for the whole city, not just that diplomat, because if Azoth wins, they’ll either be dead or slaves — and I can’t see that much of a difference.’

  Nilah dropped her head into her hands. ‘I already had notices made,’ she said. ‘They go out into the city this morning. It’s too late.’

  ‘It’s not too late until the army starts fighting,’ Shaan said, but Nilah shook her head and lifted desperate eyes.

  ‘Maybe it could work, though. Maybe the Free Lands war will be over quickly and I can send the army to fight Azoth. He’s not here yet, you said it yourself. He’s coming but he’s not here. And Morfessa told me Veila might be bringing back serpents from the Isles. It could work.’ But Shaan had had enough. This was pointless. She turned away.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Nilah’s voice rose in fear.

  ‘I need some air.’

  ‘Don’t go far, I need you to come with me to the Council of Nine meeting.’ Her tone was pleading, almost pathetic, and Shaan paused and looked back with a twinge of pity. ‘Please, Shaan,’ Nilah said. ‘You’re the only friend I have.’

  She sighed. ‘All right.’ There was, after all, the chance that Nilah would not let her leave.

  Relief crossed the young woman’s face. ‘Good. Fine.’

  Shaan left, unable to stand seeing Nilah’s grateful face. But as she closed the door of the apartments behind her she met Rorc coming up the path.

  She stopped, sudden trepidation filling her.

  ‘Shaan,’ he said, then paused, looking at her strangely. ‘What is it?’

  She realised some of her shock must have shown on her face and quickly forced herself to relax. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Nilah has just been difficult, that’s all.’

  ‘Of course.’ His mouth hardened. ‘You should leave the palace now.’

  ‘What, right now?’

  He glanced over his shoulder at the guard at the gate and lowered his voice. ‘Your work here is done. Go to Balkis; he’ll protect you.’

  ‘I don’t need protecting,’ she said, ‘and I can’t leave yet; Nilah wants me to go with her to the council meeting.’

  ‘That’s the last place you should be. I’m going to announce there that I won’t be part of this war — they’ll consider that treason, and the palace will not be a safe place for anyone associated with me afterward — including you. Now, go to Balkis’s quarters and stay there. The gods know Tuon would never forgive me should something happen to you.’

  Tuon? Was she coming back soon? Shaan wanted to ask, but the look in his eye stopped her. ‘What should I tell Nilah?’

  ‘Nothing. You’ve got to go.’

  ‘I can’t just leave her. What about her guards? They’ll stop me.’

  ‘Don’t argue. The guards won’t be a problem. I’ve already seen to it. And don’t think about staying. I have Faithful here ready to make sure you leave if you disobey me.’

  She held his gaze, angry. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘but I’m going to Tallis, not Balkis.’

  Unexpectedly, Rorc smiled. ‘If you must.’ And he strode away and into the Guardian’s apartment.

  Shaan stood for a moment looking at the closed door, then went quickly back to her room to collect her things.

  Chapter 15

  Tuon hurried from Pasiphae’s house down to the beach. It was early morning and the sky was a dull grey, a cool breeze coming in off the ocean.

  ‘Whatever she called you for will still be the same however quickly you arrive,’ Ivar said, lengthening his stride to keep up.

  Tuon glanced back at him. ‘It must be a note from the city for her to summon me so early. I need to know what’s happened.’

  For most of the past few days she had spent all her time in the Prophet’s old house in the jungle, going over the scrolls with Ivar. The Keeper had finally granted her leave to visit the underground chamber, but had refused Veila access. Every day Tuon had copied down what she could with Ivar’s help and taken the notes back to the Seer in the evenings. She had seen Veila the evening before and had not expected to confer with her again before sunset, but now the thought of what was on the scrolls was at the back of her mind as she worried over what Rorc could have sent the
m. She pushed a palm frond from her path and Ivar caught it before it whipped him across the face.

  ‘Careful.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Tuon said, but didn’t look back as she ran down the track to the beach. Veila was standing at the sea’s edge facing the waves and Tuon called out to her as she approached. The Seer turned, a fluttering slip of parchment between her fingers.

  ‘What is it?’ Tuon asked as she reached her. Veila’s face was hard to read, her fine features calm as usual, but Tuon thought she saw a flicker of unease in her eyes.

  ‘The Guardian has declared war on the Free Lands,’ she said.

  ‘What!’ Tuon took the proffered slip of parchment and read the words scratched on it.

  Nilah declared war on Free Lands. Lorgon behind it. I must defy, unite Clans. Hurry back. Rorc.

  ‘I hoped we would have more time — or that Morfessa could persuade her to take another course.’ The Seer sighed. ‘It seems I was wrong.’

  ‘What does he mean, unite the Clans?’

  ‘Rorc is a clansman,’ Veila said, ‘or was. He was made Outcast.’ She smiled briefly, a tight, unhappy smile. ‘He’s going to the Clans to ask for aid.’

  ‘What?’ Tuon’s heart beat a ragged flutter. Rorc was from the desert? Why had he never told her?

  Veila took the note back and rolled it tightly. ‘The Clans are many and well versed in warfare. If they agree to join us we may have a chance.’

  ‘What does this mean for us?’ Tuon asked, but she was also thinking, what would this mean for her? Would Rorc go back to the Clans for good?

  ‘We will leave as soon as we can,’ Veila said. ‘Rorc will refuse to be part of Lorgon’s war, and that is treason. He will have to leave the city and take the Faithful and serpent riders with him.’

  ‘The city will be in chaos,’ Tuon said.

  ‘Yes.’ Veila’s look was shrewd. ‘We must get back before he leaves, but we need to know more about the scrolls.’ She looked at Ivar, whom Tuon had forgotten was there. ‘We need to speak with Pasiphae,’ she said to him. ‘Will she receive both of us if I ask it?’

  ‘I can persuade her,’ Ivar said.

  ‘And what of the serpents, has Asrith an answer for us?’

  He shrugged. ‘I can only ask.’

  ‘Have you no idea?’ Veila looked irritated, but Ivar didn’t react.

  ‘It is never a good idea to guess what a serpent will do,’ he said. ‘Predictability is not in their nature, but I’ll seek Asrith out then speak with my mother.’

  ‘Well, do your best.’ Veila sighed and turned to Tuon. ‘Come, I need to pack. We can wait for Pasiphae’s answer in my room.’

  As they packed, Tuon asked, ‘What do you think our chances are of persuading Pasiphae to let us take the scrolls back to Salmut?’

  ‘Non-existent.’ The Seer’s eyes were hard with determination. ‘But I’m sure there is something in them that we need to know.’

  ‘Perhaps you could stay and I could return without you,’ Tuon said. ‘Ivar would take notes on the scrolls for you.’ But even as she said it the look on the Seer’s face told her that was impossible.

  Ivar returned within the hour with word that Pasiphae would see them.

  ‘And Asrith?’ Veila asked.

  ‘She would be honoured to bring her Hive with you to Salmut.’

  The Seer looked relieved. ‘Thank you, Ivar, that is good news.’ He made a half bow and Veila said, ‘Let’s see your mother then.’ Ivar directed a brief smile at Tuon and they followed him to the stilted house.

  Tuon was hopeful the Keeper might change her mind, but her hopes were short lived. Pasiphae met them on her deck and they had hardly taken a sip from the cups of kaf she offered before she said, ‘I know why you have come. Your Guardian has declared war.’

  ‘So you know that we must leave,’ Veila said.

  ‘Undoubtedly, and I know what you seek.’

  ‘But you have already decided to deny my request for the scrolls.’

  Pasiphae took a sip of her kaf before she spoke. ‘What is foreseen will come,’ she said. ‘Seeing the words written will not change them. And no, the scrolls must not leave these shores. You know this.’

  ‘I had hoped you would hear me before making this decision,’ Veila said.

  ‘You and Tuon are welcome to stay and continue reading them here.’

  The Keeper’s blunt refusal seemed unreasonable to Tuon and she leaned forward and said, ‘Pasiphae, if you will not let us take the scrolls, can you at least tell us any prophecies the Prophet made, or anything he wrote, that would help us? Surely you have read them?’

  The Keeper regarded her. ‘I have, but no, I cannot tell you anything.’

  ‘Cannot or will not?’ Tuon said.

  ‘It is the same.’ Pasiphae’s eyes narrowed. ‘One person’s understanding of the scrolls always differs from another’s. If I told you what I see in them it would be my truth, not yours. It would not help you.’

  Frustrated, Tuon was about to reply when Ivar suddenly spoke. ‘Mother, what if I took the scrolls and went with them? I would keep them safe and decide who saw them.’ Pasiphae turned slowly to look at him, surprise crossing her stern features. ‘The scrolls belong here, son, you know that.’

  ‘Yes, but I believe there are some things the Prophet did not foresee and these women coming here is one of them. The war with the Free Lands is another. Saranthium may fall into slavery again and that would bode ill for all. If those who fight Azoth have knowledge of things to come, perhaps they can prevail. Perhaps the Prophet’s words could save us, not condemn us. I see only hope in allowing them the scrolls.’

  Pasiphae said nothing for a time, looking at her son as if in silent communication, then picked up her cup.

  ‘I hear your words, son, but I do not agree. The scrolls stay, as do you. I will lose neither the Prophet’s words nor another son to the mainland’s wiles.’ She took a sip of kaf and turned back to the women. ‘I will send word to Ashuk to have her ship here for you on tomorrow’s dawn tide. I thank you for your visit. May the winds see your safe return to your home.’

  There was nothing more for them to say.

  ***

  Tuon spent the rest of the day and early evening with Ivar in the Prophet’s house, taking as many notes as she could from the scrolls. But there was so much confusion in the words, so many disjointed sections, that by the end she didn’t know if she had copied down anything helpful at all and left the cool underground room with a heavy heart and aching fingers.

  It was still dark when the knock came at her door to board the ship. She dressed quickly and pulled on the coat Veila had given her before opening the door. One of the ship women stood waiting, her skin glimmering blue in the pre-dawn dark.

  ‘We’re ready,’ she said. ‘You have your bag?’

  ‘Here.’ Tuon reached for the pack that she’d placed on the floor.

  ‘Come quickly,’ the woman said, taking it. ‘The tide is readying to turn.’ She hurried away and Tuon, moving more slowly, followed her.

  She followed the sandy path down toward the beach, passing the narrow track that led to Ivar’s home. She glanced that way as she walked, remembering the day they had gone to visit Asrith. She almost regretted leaving the peace of these isles for the chaos of Salmut.

  Veila was already on the beach when she arrived, watching the ship women pull a skiff to the shore. Light was slowly starting to illuminate the beach, highlighting the weariness on her face.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘Did you sleep?’

  ‘Barely. It looks like you had little sleep also.’

  The Seer nodded. ‘I too had much to think about.’

  One of the ship women shouted at those in the water and they watched as the small boat was dragged closer in so its keel cut into the sand. The woman who had come for Tuon threw their bags into the boat.

  ‘I’m glad Asrith has agreed to bring her Hive of serpents to our aid,’ Veila said. ‘At least we will ha
ve something to show for our mission.’

  It was better than returning empty handed, Tuon thought. She looked behind at the quiet settlement but there was no sign of Ivar or Pasiphae. Disappointment filled her. Ivar had not said goodbye last night either, and she had at least expected him to be here. Perhaps this was some Isles custom she didn’t know about.

  ‘Come.’ Veila nudged her arm. ‘It’s time.’ Holding up her skirts the older woman walked forward into the wash to the waiting hands of the ship women, who held the skiff steady as she climbed in. Glancing once more at the empty beach, Tuon followed, feeling the shock of the cold water cover her feet and trying to keep her dress above the surging tide. She was stepping into the boat when she heard a splash and looked with astonishment to see Ivar coming behind her, grinning widely and carrying a large and bulging pack above his head and another smaller one on his back.

  ‘Wait,’ he said, ‘I am coming also.’

  Chapter 16

  The ship creaked and groaned as the southern wind filled the sails, and Tuon sat opposite Ivar at the narrow table in the galley. One of the parchments of the Prophet’s scrolls was spread out before him and he and Veila were studying the closely written text. A savage blast of wind made the boat list sideways and he put his hand out and caught an apple he’d been using as a paperweight as it rolled past him, placing it back on the corner of the parchment.

  ‘So, what’s this?’ Veila pointed to a section with a frown. ‘I can’t quite read it. My eyes are not as sharp as they once were.’

  Ivar leaned toward her. ‘And the light shall come but will bring only darkness,’ he said.

  ‘Again the reference to light bringing the dark,’ Veila said absently. ‘It sounds as though he predicts dark days to come, a time of sorrow and fear, but that’s something we already know. Of course Azoth’s coming will bring dark times.’

  ‘But Azoth cannot be the light,’ Ivar said.

  ‘No, that he can’t.’

  Tuon sighed. The theme of light bringing dark had come up several times in the past thirty hours. What it could mean was beyond her. She was still surprised that Ivar had defied Pasiphae’s wish. He had brought as many of the scrolls as he could carry and seemed unconcerned about how his mother would react when he returned — if he ever did.