The Fall of the Dagger (The Forsaken Lands)

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The Fall of the Dagger (The Forsaken Lands) Page 27

by Glenda Larke


  “Surely Fox could buy pistols and cannon and arquebuses from Pashalin?” Saker asked. “He’s rich enough. Not much training needed. Pashalin is where black powder is made, too.”

  “Oh, he did,” she said. “But their rulers started to worry whether the arms could be one day turned against them, so they stopped their open export. But we shouldn’t be complacent. Fox is destroying Va-faith from within.”

  “So you decided to hide the shrines and hide the shine keepers, and save the folk with witcheries,” Juster said. “But what’s the point in that if ordinary people don’t have access to shrines?”

  “It was a terrible thing to do,” she said. “I know that. But we needed time to prepare in safety.” She glanced at Saker. “I supposed you guessed what we were doing.”

  “You’ve been training people how to use their witcheries to defend themselves and others, or as an act of war.”

  Prince Ryce protested. “Can you do that? Use a witchery to harm or kill, and you lose it, that’s what we were taught!”

  “True,” Fritillary agreed. “However, I was indirectly given a lesson from the unseen guardian of the Great Oak. She – or he – gave a witchery of sorts to my secretary, Barden, who has no Shenat roots, and that witchery is aggressive in its defence of him and me.” She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “There’s a time when you have to fight to preserve what is good and true. Oak shrines were attacked and burned. Water shrines had their springs poisoned. Keepers were murdered. We had to stop that.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Prince Ryce said.

  “I still don’t see how witcheries can be used to fight and kill,” Juster said.

  “Of course they can,” Saker said. “Take, um, a man with a woodworking witchery. He can bend staves for a cask, curve planks for a hull—”

  “We know what a woodworker does,” Prince Ryce interrupted. “So what?”

  “Think of all the things made of wood. Bridges, crossbows, wagon wheels, gun carriages, trees, boats, buildings. A woodworker could break any of…”

  “Woodworkers never break the wood they work with!”

  “Only because no one employs them to do so because it’s cheaper to use an axe or a saw! But that doesn’t mean they couldn’t do it.”

  Fritillary nodded. “They have in fact been perfecting their abilities to do so.”

  “There’s one problem,” Saker said. “There must be many more Grey Lancers than folk with witcheries.”

  “Yes. But a coerced army tends to lose their focus with time. Whenever a Fox son goes off to coerce more farmers’ sons, the lancers he leaves behind start to fall apart.”

  Ryce nodded. “We noticed that. They became increasingly slovenly. So what now? Are we ready to do battle?”

  “We can’t keep the shrines and witchery folk in hiding any longer,” she said.

  “I don’t understand how you did it in the first place,” Ryce said.

  She stirred uneasily. “Let’s just say that the unseen guardians are entities with very strange abilities. They can travel time, carrying a place with them.”

  “What the blazes does that mean?” Prince Ryce asked.

  “They can take their shrine and keep it stationary in that moment, while everywhere else time advances as usual. They become islands stuck in our past.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Juster said.

  “It doesn’t have to make sense to us. The point is that unseen guardians can do it.”

  Saker had an uncomfortable thought. “How did you get here?”

  “There have always been paths and streams that link one shrine-oak with another – the spiritual, natural connections between the physical parts of Shenat faith. Unseen to us and unused except by the unseen guardians. If the shrine-oaks stay in another time, so do their links. Unseen guardians have made them visible to a select few of us, so that they can be walked. Or sailed if they are water shrines. I’ve done enough walking over the past year or two to a last a lifetime! Be grateful to Va that it is possible.”

  “I agree,” Ardhi said suddenly. “You don’t want or need to know any more than that. And you don’t want to know what price was paid, either.”

  Saker looked at Fritillary’s wrinkled hands and felt queasy.

  There was an uncomfortable silence, which Prince Ryce broke, saying, “All I care about is rescuing Bealina and Garred. I must return to Throssel as soon as possible.”

  “Bealina is not there,” Fritillary said. “They were taken to Fox in Vavala.”

  Aghast, the colour draining from his face, Ryce said, “They are in Fox’s hands? Saker was right?”

  “I had word,” she said.

  “What about Horntail? He was with them—”

  “Ah, that bearded fellow was yours? He lives, but was ensorcelled and remembers nothing. Gerelda Brantheld told me he is with her and Peregrine, hiding in Vavala. They’ve been trying to find a way to free your family.”

  Ryce groaned and jumped to his feet. He slammed his palm flat to the bough of the oak, over and over, with the full force of his arm behind the blows.

  Fritillary stood and went to lay a hand over his to force an end to his pounding. “Princess Bealina is probably safer there than she would be with your father,” she said, “King Edwayn is unpredictable and violent. At least Fox is rational in his behaviour, and at the moment it is in his interest to protect your son.”

  “We’ll go to Vavala, then,” Ryce said, addressing Juster.

  “For Golden Petrel to get there from here would take a month or even more, depending on winds.”

  “We’ll go overland.”

  “Not advisable,” Fritillary said. “A whole company of armed men couldn’t approach Vavala unheralded. Besides, it’s more important that—” She stopped, face flushed.

  What, Saker wondered, was so embarrassing that she hesitated to say it? Ah of course. “You want King Edwayn to abdicate first.”

  “It is better to do this with a semblance of legality, as well as unity. I’ve already primed the northern princes to follow your lead when you are king, Your Highness. Mathilda will support you, too, of course.”

  “But my son and my wife!” Ryce cried. “They are in the hands of that monster!”

  Lord Juster stood up to take Ryce’s arm and ease him back on to his seat. “So what do you advocate, Your Reverence?”

  “You sail back to Throssel.” Fritillary was addressing Prince Ryce, but they knew she was speaking to them all. “You take the city and the castle. You could force the king to abdicate on the grounds of insanity.”

  Juster and Ryce glanced at one another, faces without expression.

  Saker sucked in a sharp breath. Blister it, with that slight emphasis on “could”, had she just given Ryce free rein to do what he liked with his father?

  “With the city and Throssel Palace secured,” she continued, her tone as calm and measured as always, “you get the Arbiter of Throssel to crown you king. Then you travel overland to the port of Betany. That way you save several weeks at sea. Once there, you seize the navy in the king’s name and sail to Vavala.”

  “The navy is in Betany?” Juster asked.

  “Edwayn has been trying to blockade Lowmian ships, part of his daft plan to control the spice trade,” she said. She gave Lord Juster a sidelong look before adding, “He had reports from Karradar. Something about the Lowmians attacking Golden Petrel on your outward voyage. He was not only furious, he was bent on revenge. Fortunately the news of that didn’t arrive until after Regal Vilmar had died, or the troubles with Lowmeer could have been worse. At my request, Regala Mathilda showed restraint.”

  Juster burst out laughing. “Now that’s one outcome of our skirmish in Karradar I would never have predicted!”

  Fritillary ploughed on. “When you arrive in Vavala, you will be joined by the Dire Sweepers and Lowmian troops, as well as forces from the Principalities. Before then, Gerelda and Peregrine will have rescued Bealina and Prince Garred so that neither your wife nor y
our son will be hostages to your behaviour.”

  For another hour, the conversation continued, thrashing out details of what could or could not be done. Most of the discussion was between Lord Juster, Prince Ryce and Pontifect Fritillary Reedling.

  Commerce, royalty and religion.

  Saker was bemused by his own attitude, halfway between uneasiness at the thought of deposing a king and facing a sorcerer, and rejoicing at the idea of battle. Ah, how much he wanted his revenge on Fox.

  But how strong were the Prime’s powers now? If he could suck the life out of others to extend his own, did that mean he could – barring accidents or murder – live indefinitely? If he was injured, even mortally, perhaps he could cure himself by dragging the life out of those around him. He looked down at his palm. The black smudge was there again, now that he was under a shrine tree. Time, or perhaps the counter effect of his contact with sakti, had faded it a little.

  Lord Juster broke up the discussion, announcing he had to arrange for supplies for Golden Petrel, after which they would sail back to Throssel. He and Ardhi and Prince Ryce then headed off on foot to Twite, leaving Saker and Fritillary Reedling standing side by side in the shrine.

  “Sorrel will be glad to reach Throssel,” Saker remarked. “She’s been fretting because it’s been so long since she saw Piper.”

  “I will be interested to meet her. She sounds like a remarkable woman.”

  He chuckled. “She is.”

  “She’s the only person in the Va-cherished Hemisphere at the present time who has a glamour. She must have been special from the beginning. An unseen guardian saw something in her that few people have. Are you in love with her?”

  “What business is that of yours?”

  “Well, you still work for me.”

  “I haven’t been paid for the past three years!”

  “Even so, I don’t recall ever receiving your resignation.”

  “My heart is still not your concern.”

  She levelled a stare at him, without speaking.

  Rot it, she had a way of chiselling information out of you, just by looking… Worse, he could not lie, or even prevaricate, because her witchery meant she could read him like a book.

  He sighed heavily. “Sorrel Redwing lost a daughter under horrible circumstances. She has little place in her heart at the moment for anyone except Piper.”

  “You care for her, nonetheless.”

  “Of course I do! You have no idea how much we have been through together, side by side. I love her as much as it is possible to love a friend without going that one step further.”

  “She doesn’t care for you?”

  “Not in that way, no. I’ve been aware of that for a long, long while. Perhaps even longer than she has!” He smiled. “The attraction was there initially perhaps, but there was also always something missing. Now it’s not something missing, but rather something… inserted. Somewhere along the line we’ve become more akin to siblings. I feel like an older brother always trying to protect her because I got her into this mess, at least partially. And she’s the younger sister telling me she’s not a child any more and can look after herself.”

  Fritillary shook her head and waggled a finger at him. “That’s not a good basis for a marriage.”

  He laughed. “No, it’s not. So it is just as well we aren’t contemplating one, isn’t it?”

  “Tell me about Piper.”

  “She’s a delight. Intelligent, charming, pretty. Everything that a parent would want in a daughter. But – but there is no doubt that she is Valerian Fox’s child and that she is also a sorcerer.”

  “Who else knows that she is the Regala’s child?”

  “Ardhi. Juster guessed. He knew about devil-kin and guessed we took Piper from Ustgrind to save her life.”

  “Who knows she is Fox’s child?”

  “Possibly the midwife who delivered the twins. Apparently Mathilda said something during her travail—”

  “That woman’s dead.”

  “Then, if she didn’t tell anyone, just Sorrel, myself, Ardhi and Lord Juster.”

  “You told Lord Juster?”

  “We needed his help. So that he would give it, we had to tell him why it was necessary. Ryce, on the other hand, knows nothing. He has assumed she is Sorrel’s, born of some Lowmian liaison. He’s too polite to ask for details.”

  “I think it best that neither Ryce nor anyone else ever find out Fox sired the twins. What else should I know?”

  It was an order, he knew that, but he had also to give thought to the responsibility he and Sorrel had to Ardhi’s homeland. “The future of the Va-forsaken land depends on our secrecy.”

  “I can’t make promises when I don’t know what I’m promising!” she said. “The only thing I can say is that I won’t do anything with the information you give me that runs counter to your wishes without discussing it with you first. I will also take all you say seriously, because I trust your judgement in this.”

  With that, he had to be content. He leaned forward and dropped his voice as he began to tell the story of the Chenderawasi.

  By the time Saker had finished the tale and answered all the questions, it was dark outside. The shrine keeper brought some food, but both of them only picked at it. Fritillary was silent for a long time as she considered all she had learned.

  “I am relieved,” she said at last, “that you feel the two hemispheres are linked through our beliefs and that their sakti is not so very different from our witcheries. When I first heard about the dagger, I was afraid of the opposite. That it was linked to the sorcery and the curse of the Horned Death.”

  “I’m even wondering if the Chenderawasi Avians are so very different from our unseen guardians. They are more visible, but like unseen guardians, they dispense magic.”

  She looked intrigued. “An interesting thought!”

  “Ardhi mentioned a price for hiding the shrines. Was it the unseen guardians who paid it?” Or was it you, because you have been walking those unseen paths?

  “Some of the older oaks are dying,” she admitted. “There will be new trees, new guardians.”

  His insides lurched uncomfortably. “But a young guardian of a young oak…”

  “… can’t grant witcheries for many years,” she finished for him. “We will all pay in the end. Fewer witcheries granted for several generations.”

  And you chose to do that.

  She smiled faintly. “I believe we would have lost more if the trees had not been hidden. Shrine keepers and witchery folk were being targeted.”

  Dear Va, what a decision she had made, knowing how much she was damaging the future of the whole hemisphere. Heroic? Presumptuous? He gazed at her, half of him admiring the resolution and courage of her decision, the other half appalled at her gall.

  And she knew it, damn her.

  27

  The Splitting of the Ternion

  By the time the others returned to the ship that night, Sorrel was almost spitting with impatience. She hated being confined to bed, even if it was in Lord Juster’s luxuriously appointed cabin. There was only just so much admiring she could do of the Pashali embroidered bedding, the gilded porcelain chamber pot with the dragon handle, or the intricate carved panelling that had been installed in Javenka to replace the damage done to his cabin by the Lowmians.

  “I’m sure I’m well enough to get up,” she told Grig when he looked in on her as she was having her lunch, brought to her personally by the cook a few minutes before. “Can you bring me my clothes?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “I could,” he replied, but his tone told her he was reluctant to do so. “Saker would be upset with me if you don’t stay in bed, though.”

  “Saker does not dictate what I do,” she said crossly.

  He grinned. “He does try, nonetheless, doesn’t he?”

  “And are you abetting him?”

  “Well, in this case, it’s more what the healer said, which was that you should stay abed today.”
>
  “I could go up on deck in my nightgown…”

  “The dock lumpers would love that.”

  “I could glamour myself some clothes.”

  “Believe me, you’d be chilly up on deck without a cloak.” When she glared at him, he relented. “If you are that determined, I’ll fetch your clothes – but I’d hate to see my embroidery of your wound ruined by you climbing the steps to the upper deck. Really, Sorrel, it’s better you don’t.”

  She heaved a sighed. “All right! All right! I’ll stay in bed.”

  “I thought you’d be sensible about it.” With that infuriating remark, he left, leaving her to twiddle her thumbs and curse her well-meaning male friends.

  When Saker did return it was already dark. He knocked and poked his head around the door when she answered. “Are you respectable? I’ve brought your clothes from your cabin. Grig tells me you think you are well enough to get up.”

  She glared at him. “I’ve been well enough all day long. What happened? Have you any idea how hard it is to lie here and not know—?”

  “Everything’s fine.” Briefly he sketched what had happened and the decisions that had been made. “Pontifect Fritillary wants to meet you, so when you’re dressed, come to the wardroom.”

  “She’s here?”

  “Yes. Stop complaining and get some clothes on. Do you want any help?”

  “No!”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Out!”

  He grinned and left the cabin.

  Pulling on her clothes hurt, but once it was done she found she could walk normally, although she was careful not to move her arm too much. She stepped out into the companionway to hear a woman saying, “And you want to protect these islands from us?” The door to the officers’ wardroom was ajar.

  Saker replied, “From rapacious traders and fortune hunters, yes. We have a window of opportunity now, before people like Uthen Kesleer and his trading company—”

  She reached out to knock on the door, but pain gripped her side as the movement stretched her newly healed skin. She was forced to lean back against the wall to catch her breath.

 

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