I tried the throne for size again and stretched my legs towards the fireplace. You can tell a great deal about someone by examining their room, and infinitely more so if they have designed it themselves. The damn chandelier was the first thing I saw when Snipe showed me in. No one could fail to notice it. It dominated the room like a gigantic jellyfish, suspended from the ceiling with its candles all askew. It was not to blame. I hated what Raven meant by it. Strings of crystals, clutters of baroque pendants and its chain heavier than an Insect leash, it had been an heirloom of the previous dynasty. Around eighty years ago Raven’s grandfather had seized it from the bankrupt Tanagers when he had taken Tanager Hall and the crown of the country. The Rachiswaters had kept it for two generations with their other prizes, the spoil of their success. God knows how Raven had dragged it up here, but maybe he wanted it to prove he was still heir presumptive - or, even worse, as a superstitious trinket to ensure the nation would be his one day. He had never liked the chandelier when it hung in his brother’s palace - he cannot like it now. So, you see the heart of a possessed man: clear and flawless ice, always frozen, never melting.
He was like a musical instrument pitched to one note but producing two sounds: one melancholy, the other fearsome. When he was melancholy, I found it incredible that he would ever be cheerful again. When he was absorbed in some project he became cheery, and I could not believe he would ever be dejected again. I turned my back on the chandelier and dwelt instead on the coat of arms carved over the fireplace, which interested me most of all. As I studied it Raven entered. ‘Happy New Year’s Eve!’
‘Happy New Year’s Eve, Lightning,’ he said. ‘Good to see you!’
We shook hands and I relinquished the faux throne to him. By god, he looked older - he looked haggard. His short dark hair stood up like iron filings with a nearby magnet, and his eyes were a peculiar pale grey, without any flecks in the iris - like silver coins - which is a feature of the Rachiswater family. The alarming wound in his face had knitted but the scar tissue was still pink and shiny. He had cured it well, but not so the wound in his heart, which he kept fresh and bleeding every day in his lust for revenge.
‘To what do I owe this visit?’
‘Good wishes from Micawater. I haven’t seen you for two years. I thought I’d ride up and see this manor house you have built for yourself. And I am overwhelmed by your feat. Designing and constructing this in such a short time! You’re a polymath.’
Raven was all smiles. He gave a convincing performance of being beside himself with joy. ‘You should have sent word you were coming. I haven’t even a New Year’s present to give you. A pity the Messenger is too busy with the Rhydanne.’
‘As a matter of fact I did send him ahead, but he seems to have been waylaid. A case of the hare and the tortoise.’
Raven switched to the High language, the royal tongue, so I did too; it must have been years since he had used it.
I presented him with a package containing two books which I’d selected from the shelf in Foin and the reeve’s son had wrapped in marbled paper. Raven accepted it eagerly. Although, of course, he was supposed to wait until tomorrow, he took a knife from the table, sliced the string and unwrapped the books so reverently I felt embarrassed. They were a leather-bound volume of Conure’s poetry from the twelfth century and a new libretto of The Miser King.
‘Thank you,’ he said, overcome with gratitude. ‘Thank you very much.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘I have almost no books, only the few I brought here. Did you know my brother was starving me of them?’
‘No.’
‘You know I’ve a thirst for books, Lightning. But since I arrived Tarmigan has only let me have five and, believe me, I know them word for word.’ He moved aside an untidy pile of letters and rummaged about until he unearthed a very worn copy of Myths and Legends of Ancient Awia. He pushed it triumphantly in my direction. ‘One of them was your own! Don’t you think my brother was cruel not to let me buy more?’
‘Yes.’
‘Truly we’re living through the age of unenlightenment!’
I said, ‘I wish I had known. When I return home I will send you some crates full.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. You can rebuild your library. Just list the titles you want, or you could always leave it to my taste …’
‘Both, I think! A little of both. Thank you very much.’ He picked up Myths and Legends and handled it with respect. ‘I have read everything you’ve written. I started with all your works on archery, which I know word for word.’
‘So do all my Challengers.’ I laughed.
‘Then I went on to read all your fiction. Insects at Murrelet Manor. The Bride of Summerday.’ He opened the book at its mark and tapped the story headed, ‘Lynette and Telamon, or, the Rose of Ressond’. ‘I especially love the bit where Telamon shoots all the Insects.’
‘That never happened, you know.’
‘Oh, I realise. But the description is so detailed, such rich coloratura. Your imagination is superb … I especially love Conure. Thank you, thank you … Tonight I’ll find you a present in return.’
‘There’s no need.’
‘It’s traditional. Why break tradition? You of all people know its value.’ He poured himself some coffee and added some of the dismayingly musty goats’ milk.
‘I was admiring your fireplace. Is that your new coat of arms?’
‘Yes. New is the word. I only chose it last week, and the herald’s office in Rachiswater hasn’t yet confirmed it.’
‘They will.’
‘I’m sure they will. My brother has no say in the matter.’
He mentioned his brother more easily than I had imagined, and appeared so relaxed you would have thought him innocent. Not the slightest vestige of doubt, hatred, or the struggle and horror of the battle to come clouded his silver eyes. The emblem was carved with an unsettling vehemence: a crescent moon transfixed by a vertical arrow. ‘What does it signify?’
‘Something the Messenger said. He was in a trading post, high up on the bank of the glacier. My steward occasionally conducts business there, and he found Jant carousing with the Rhydanne. Their ringleader, Shira Dellin—’
‘I know her.’
‘Was inciting a pack of them to attack us. She was rousing them, preparing them to eat us.’
‘Eat you?’
‘Yes. Didn’t you know they have been murdering and devouring Awians? Our countrymen, Lightning, roasted and eaten! My steward said that Jant told those animals they had as little chance of hounding us from Carniss as they did of hitting the moon with an arrow. He was right! So I made it my symbol. Shoot at the moon, Rhydanne, if you can!’
‘Do they truly eat people?’ I asked, shaken.
Raven was nettled. ‘Yes. Snipe told me. Ah … this is something Jant didn’t tell you, am I right? I’ve lost fifty men! Lightning, you’re the best archer of all time. Can you shoot the moon? No? If you can’t, no one can. Those beasts are too primitive to know the use of the bow. They have no chance whatsoever of shooting the moon, and we will never leave Carniss.’
‘Are you safe here?’ I asked. ‘Do the walls keep them out?’
Raven shuddered. ‘I think they can climb any wall they are inclined to, but my bowmen deter them. When I built Carniss I thought they could never act in concert, but Dellin has deviously taught them to ambush my patrols in the backwoods.’
‘Your difficulties with the Rhydanne interest me.’
‘So we discover the reason for your visit!’
‘Jant told me he’s been unable to stop you persecuting them.’
‘Wouldn’t you persecute beasts that devour your people! They tear us apart with their teeth!’
The statement chilled me, and I wondered if Jant knew all of Dellin’s deeds. My own experience with Savory proved how sightless love can be, and he was so besotted, Dellin could easily have deceived him. Surely she couldn’t be so terrible as to eat people? I
felt heavy and cold inside. ‘If this is happening to our countrymen you must do everything to stop it,’ I said. ‘But are you sure? Do you have evidence?’
‘Lightning, you are here in an official capacity.’
‘The Emperor wants this war to reach a peaceful solution.’
‘Oh, so now it’s a war, and the Castle feels justified in stepping in! Dellin raided my settlers’ homes two days ago. Twelve families - thirty men, women and children - vanished! Dellin burnt the houses but we found no bodies inside, so she must have carried them away. She took all their goods too. I sent armed patrols to look for them and of those men only Snipe crawled back, suffering severe hypothermia. The others met their deaths, driven over a cliff by Dellin’s horde.’ ‘Is that how Snipe gained his black eye?’
Raven paused. ‘No. We’ll come to that in good time. And we no longer ride; the horses take fright too easily. The Rhydanne tore Rabicano apart with their talons; how would you feel if they killed Balzan?’
‘There will always be another Balzan.’
Raven stood up. ‘Why are you Eszai supporting the natives? Are you so opposed to progress? This colony is a glorious thing for our country to achieve. Lightning, I wish you could see the innermost heart of Carniss as I do; much of your sympathy would subside. The Rhydanne savages are on a level with the brute, not even to be compared with the noble character of the dog. They are in a crude state. They have no gratitude, pity, love, nor self-denial, no idea of duty, not even knowledge of the Castle, but covetousness, ingratitude, selfishness and cruelty. All are thieves, idle, envious and ready to plunder. Please feel free to speak to my terrified settlers. Imagine how you would feel if the citizens of Micawater were too afraid to leave their homes? I have a duty to protect my people, the same as you do. The settlers look to me for help. You know what it’s like. No one wants to leave the keep. I had to order soldiers to collect firewood or there’d be no roast ox tonight.’
‘If you stop trawling the woods for Rhydanne, Jant can persuade Dellin to cease.’
‘You know as well as I do that Jant has no influence over her.’
Privately, I agreed with him. I guessed that Dellin had all the influence and Jant was a paper boat on her river. ‘She talked at length with the Emperor,’ I said. ‘He supports her. He said, “In the Throne Room the column representing Darkling stands beside the column for Awia. The Rhydanne are part of the Empire.”’
‘Does their silver column carry as much of the Empire as our blue column? I think not.’
I returned to my question: ‘Have you any evidence to prove Rhydanne have … consumed Awians?’
He frowned but said nothing.
‘No eyewitnesses?’
He paused. ‘No.’
‘So you heard it from Snipe, who heard it from a soldier, who heard it from a schoolboy, who overheard an old woman muttering? It is hearsay, Raven, nothing more!’
He heard the relief in my voice. ‘Very strong hearsay, since everyone believes it! Even if you prefer to side with the killers!’
‘I agree they’re killers, but not man-eaters.’
‘It is misleading that they have a roughly human shape, for they are wolves. If you had only seen them sprinting out from the trees. At first, nothing. Then - everybody’s dead! Silence again, and you’re standing surrounded by the bodies of your friends!’ He paced across the room, from the fireplace to a tapestry and back, casting nervous glances at the window but never approaching it. ‘At least you can hear Insects coming!’
‘They’re not as bad as Insects.’
‘They’re much worse - as you’ll witness for yourself, because the festival won’t diminish their attacks. I will kill them, Lightning, all of them.’
I leant back in my chair and rested my elbows on the arms, and he responded to this relaxed posture by calming visibly. He paused by the arras and added, ‘My decision is correct. It is the fate of princes to be ill-spoken of for doing well.’
‘Even princes cannot break the law with impunity.’
‘The law of the Empire or the law of nature?’
‘Immortality apart, the two are much the same.’
‘Immortality is a thorn in your side, not mine.’ He sat down again in the timber throne.
‘The Emperor wishes for peace. Your manor has less than a tenth as many Rhydanne than settlers. The Rhydanne have nothing to eat, so if you cease to provoke them, they will disperse naturally.’
‘We are a source of food. You and I, Lightning. Dellin is attracting more killers from the wilderness to prey on us. They have a taste for our blood! They lurk in the forest, waiting for someone to step outside so they can carve the flesh from his bones. They gnaw the bones! The soldiers say they even suck out the marrow!’
‘I’m surprised you can be so gullible,’ I said coolly. ‘I’m surprised that the author of A Mirror for Princes can fall for the same superstition as a cottar.’
Raven paused and thought awhile. At length he muttered, ‘I am still a son of Rachiswater. Your complacent life in the lowlands has led you to favour Rhydanne over your own countrymen.’
‘Not at all, if Rhydanne are murderers.’
‘Jant is the same. I have seen the way he looks at Dellin.’
‘He looks at all women like that.’
‘He beat up my steward. You’ve noticed Snipe’s black eye? Jant gave it to him.’
I was shocked. Raven saw this and continued, ‘In the Frozen Hound trading post. Jant stood up for Dellin and beat Snipe so badly he has more than a black eye: a broken nose and a gap in his teeth. Jant was prepared to go further - he raised a hatchet to kill Snipe - but the owner of the bar prevented him.’ He paused. ‘I do have witnesses.’
Knowing Jant, I believed him. This changed everything. Immortals must not assault mortals. Unless fighting Insects we have no authority, only influence. We’re not even supposed to take sides in their quarrels, let alone get involved. Jant had undermined me, the whole Castle even. I had no position from which to mediate and my anger rose against him.
Raven saw he had won and continued with mock regret, ‘A brief letter will inform the Emperor. Assault is a crime, and in my manor Jant is subject to Awian law. I must try him and if he’s found guilty jail him.’
‘San need not know of it yet.’
‘On the contrary, I think it’s vital he knows.’
‘Do I have the honour of being invited to your feast tonight?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Well, let us talk further then.’ I was about to continue but a noise outside interrupted me and I turned to the window. A dog sled raced out from between the trees, heading towards us. Eight enormous dogs, pale grey with darker masks like wolves, leapt and strained. Tethered in pairs, they hauled the sled smoothly towards us. On the driver’s seat a very stout figure, hooded in a brown parka, held the reins in fatly mittened hands.
The shining metal runners curled up at the front, beaming lanterns lashed to them. The rest of the sled was wood laths between which I could see the snow, and towards the back a passenger in a white parka sat hunched behind a pack. It reminded me of a kayak, as it snicked over the ice with rapid grace, leaving a wake of two ruts over paw-packed snow.
‘Who’s that?’ I asked Raven, who looked apprehensive as he joined me at the window.
He saw the sled, relaxed and smiled. ‘Ouzel. Ouzel with no surname. The proprietress of the trading post and one of the witnesses I mentioned. She saw Jant thrashing Snipe, and if it hadn’t been for her, Jant would have killed him.’
‘If the Rhydanne eat people, why haven’t they eaten her? She’s more than one good meal.’
The sled sped closer, until I could only see it by looking directly down through the lowest panes of the window. Ouzel pulled the reins and her team slewed to a halt. She disembarked in an ungainly fashion owing to the thickness of her breeches and walked down the line of dogs, releasing the reins from the harness on the back of each one. They were barking energetically, leaping up a
nd woo-wooing. She threw something to each in turn, which sent them sniffing in the snow then lying down to chew.
The passenger opened majestic wings for balance as it disembarked. It was Jant. He looked up at the window and waved. I snorted: wait till I talk to him.
He blew out the lanterns, hefted the pack, and helped Ouzel pull a tarpaulin over the sled and peg it down. The dogs milled around them, and when he and Ouzel started towards the arched gate, directly below me, all eight dogs bounded forward as one, seeming to bear them into the gatehouse on an exuberant tidal wave of grey fur.
‘I invited her to the feast,’ said Raven. ‘She supplied most of our beer.’ He stepped down and returned to his throne. I made small talk, complimenting the fine petit point tapestries and the New Year’s decorations, and soon footsteps were heard on the stair. In burst a vigorous woman with curly hair, her parka flapping open over a knitted jumper and hide breeches tightly circumscribed around the waist. I liked her immediately - it’s easy to like someone who radiates an aura of loving everything. She rolled a rotund and rubicund bow to Raven and cried, ‘Merry New Year’s Eve, my lord!’
Raven laughed. ‘Ouzel, compliments of the season. Let me introduce you to Lightning Micawater.’
I rose in the window seat. She looked up and opened mouth and eyes wide in astonishment. ‘By god. Never thought I’d—Pull yourself together, girl.’ She rallied, inclined a bow and said, ‘My lord, I have something of yours. I’d like to return it.’
‘What is it?’
She pointed a thumb back over her shoulder. ‘Your Messenger.’
Jant came into the room, carrying a pack clinking with bottles. He dumped it on the rug and collapsed into a chair. He looked even more wan and drawn than before. ‘Isn’t it good luck for a handsome man to bring in the New Year?’
Above the Snowline Page 29