If.
‘This way, my lady,’ Aderon bowed slightly and allowed her to pass before him through the doorway into the room in which she had waited with Roland the previous day.
‘How was the King after our meeting yesterday?’ she asked.
‘You will be able to tell that better than I, my lady. If I had to, I’d say that he seemed weary and weighed down with grief. I fear I have made his burden greater not less…’
Orla frowned. ‘And yet he wishes to see me again so soon. He could have waited.’
‘He is desperate,’ Aderon said. ‘Desperate to become a real king again. To rule, and protect his people. I pray to all the Gods that I have made the right decision bringing you here.’
‘So it was your decision?’ Orla asked.
‘It was, my lady. At least, I set Kynan the task of seeking for you.’
‘For me?’
‘For someone who… meets your description,’ he said carefully. ‘We are bound to one another, you must see. You are the inner voice, I am the outer voice.’
They walked together in silence for a few minutes until they reached the door.
Again, Aderon tapped a quick rhythm and the door eased open, as though some mechanism within it were answering his knock.
As they entered, a figure stood.
‘Ged!’ Orla exclaimed, forgetting for a moment that she was in the presence of the King, who was in the same place he had been on her last visit, seated in the chair beside the window. ‘Oh, I’m sorry my Lord,’ she corrected herself quickly, then bent her knee and lowered her head.
I believe you’re the first person I’ve met who has been genuinely pleased to see my son. I should be thanking you. He insisted on being here. Something to do with your studies, he said.
Orla was surprised. His thoughts were strong, clear and immediate in her mind.
‘You have been practising sending?’ she asked.
You have given me a reason, the King answered and she understood immediately that he did not just mean a reason to collect his thoughts and sharpen his mind to send them. She’d given him a reason to breathe air, to open his eyes, to tolerate a serving boy wiping the drool from his chin for the fifteenth time that day.
‘I am glad,’ she said. ‘What did you wish to discuss?’
Discuss? She felt him pondering. Ged was looking at him intently, and Aderon stood quietly to one side waiting, but the King hardly noticed them, all his attention was on her, on this connection between them. Please, he said. Sit closer. It will feel easier.
She sat on the low chair beside him. She could smell him, she realised. It was a smell covered with the layered scents of perfumed balms and incense, but unmistakable. The smell of some rotting sickness that was taking him from within. For a moment she felt sick. Then she forced herself to forget her surroundings, forget her senses, and focus only on this thread of thought that joined them.
I have lived with dreams and nightmares, beset by demons. I can hardly tell what is real. You, I thought, were a dream, when you came to me. I was sure of it. Sometimes it is pleasing to be wrong. This… illness… curse… whatever it is that has befallen me… I say curse because I believe it may be. It began around the time we signed the Treaty. Who can blame the Gods for so expressing their discontent with my rule? I gave away the one thing I was bound to protect. People think it is just the Ashkar tree that is sacred, but it is so much more than that. The tree and the shaper, the Ashkarai, they grow together. Did you know that? The Ashkarai that cuts and shapes and forms the sacred timber. Born the day the seed was planted. They are joined, you see, not just through binds of duty, but something deeper: a soul-binding. That is how the journey is made. It is not just the strength of the timber, but the purity of the soul it carries, that offers protection…
Orla saw a vision of a slender, white-haired girl sitting silent and alone, cloaked in a grey woollen shawl, her face a picture of stern concentration. Then the girl turned and met Orla’s gaze. Her eyes were the deep green of the forest canopy. Then the vision faded.
Ah but I am rambling, telling more than is mine to tell. Why did I bring you here?
‘Orla, what does he say?’ Aderon asked, the patience in his voice stretched thin from waiting.
‘He is speaking of his illness and… other things. He has not yet come to the purpose of this visit.’
Aderon bowed his head slightly.
Always rushing me that one. My slowness drives him crazy. He pretends to be so calm, so patient, but inside, oh I can sense it. Doesn’t always take special powers to know a person’s mind, does it?
‘I have had that same thought many times. What did you wish to speak of today, my Lord?’ Orla asked gently.
I wish to meet with the He’kam.
‘The King wishes to meet with the He’kam,’ Orla said. She did not know the meaning of the word, but assumed Aderon would.
‘But your Majesty, to allow the Uruhenshi High Command to see you in such a state…’
Are we at war? Do we hide our weakness from our allies? We have bonds of friendship now, formalised through the Treaty we both signed. I wish to see him.
‘The King has faith in the Treaty and the alliance,’ Orla said.
‘Perhaps there is another way,’ Aderon said. ‘Not a face to face meeting. A special envoy could be sent. Your son…’ he indicated towards Ged, who appeared startled.
Is a moron. The King’s response was instantaneous. Aderon opened his mouth to continue but the King managed to just raise a hand. An incredibly intelligent moron, of course. But useless in matters of diplomacy or politics. I might as well send a sheep. Well? Tell him.
‘Um,’ Orla said. ‘The King would prefer someone more experienced in matters of diplomacy. I believe he is determined that he should have the meeting.’
‘But why, your Majesty? What could you possibly hope to achieve…’
With Orla at my side, I would hope to achieve much. Orla sensed his intent immediately.
‘Um,’ she said again.
Not um, tell him.
‘He would have me with him for the meeting. I believe he intends that I use my powers to seek information.’
‘My lord,’ Aderon said. ‘It is too risky. For you, for Orla. For the Treaty, which would surely be torn up if this attempt was discovered. I must advise against such an action. I must remind you that we took Orla from the Vaults. The Uruhenshi know of her existence, and that she is here, at the Palace.’
Send the message tonight. Ask the High Commander to attend the Palace. The Council do not need know. I believe that the Brethren are responsible for the darkness that has taken me. I must know…
Orla relayed his thoughts. She saw Aderon’s face darken, his lips tighten, but he said nothing more, just nodded his assent.
Now if there is nothing more…
‘I have one thing I wished to ask, my Lord,’ Orla said quickly, getting the words out before her courage failed her.
She felt him pause, weighing her up. Continue.
‘My sister, Merryn, was taken as a Penitent. She was executed. They believed her to have the powers that I in fact possess. She was innocent. And I’m sure this is not the first such case. I ask you, please, to consider what might be done. The Uruhenshi are crushing us, my Lord…’ For a moment, she thought she’d gone too far. She felt a great rage washing through him, dark as a thunder cloud.
I will think on your words. Now go.
She ducked her head. She wanted to seek for more, to sense for his reaction beyond what he directed to her, but a wave of anxiety washed over her. It would be an unforgiveable breach to go where she was not permitted in the mind of the King.
She would have to wait.
Chapter thirty-seven
‘I didn’t know how to tell you,’ Ged didn’t look at her as he spoke. ‘I knew you’d find out. I thought you might even sense it from me. But for a little while… it was like being able to start afresh, with no expectations. I’ve had no friends,
ever. Son of a Reader and a King.’
‘Have you ever even wanted friends? All you want to do is study,’ she knew she sounded childish and petulant. She understood why he hadn’t told her, but still resented him for it.
‘It’s true: I value learning above all else. It’s all I have. People take so little interest now in what is past, in the history of our peoples, but there are things in that history that are of the utmost importance…’
He trailed off.
‘Be careful. The Council does not permit you to teach me anymore,’ she said. ‘And that was starting to sound a lot like a lesson.’
‘Then I won’t teach you. But I asked and my father has agreed I might speak with you after you have seen him each day. It’s private here. No one will know.’
Orla looked around the small room Ged had guided her to. It was a storage room. The walls were lined with shelving filled with rows and rows of bottles of many shapes and colours, some of intricate design.
‘Gifts,’ Ged said, following her gaze. ‘From the Dryuk merchant houses mostly. They would always bring something that intoxicates, as if by keeping us from gaining too long a spell of sobriety they would prevent us from seeing that we were being owned.’
‘And the Uruhenshi bring a merciless God who sees all beings as broken and unworthy, so we won’t even think of the possibility of anything better than rule by the Brethren,’ Orla responded angrily, though she knew Ged was just making an observation, not casting a judgement. It was his way. Of anyone she’d ever met, he was one of the few who could simply observe. His perspective was not clouded by anger or passion or interest, other than a kind of open curiosity.
‘Did you know the Uruhenshi religion did not even begin on Ashan, but was founded on a small island far to the north? Scholars believe it was transported along with furs and seal-oil lamps, and that it only really grew powerful when it was adopted by the Uruhenshi. They brought to it a skill for organisation and a proselytising attitude that was lacking in the original proponents of the faith.’
Orla looked at him. Half of her was not quite sure what he’d just said. He sounded as though he was reciting something he’d read in a textbook.
‘Nothing comes from nowhere,’ he continued quietly. ‘Everything has a history if you know where to seek it.’
‘You are incredible,’ Orla said. Ged blushed and shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Truly. You know more about the world than anybody I’ve ever met. I mean, all these huge things that have made my life what it is today, I barely understand them. And you, you can recite the entire history of the Seven Isles and beyond, in High Khuri no less.’
‘That is because, unlike you, I’ve had the good fortune of growing up surrounded by one of the greatest collections of books in the Seven Isles and having, frankly, not much else to do.’
Orla picked up a bottle and swiped a finger around its rim, removing a layer of dust.
‘You know when Kynan found me, and told me what I was, he used the word: Reader. That was the first time I’d even heard it. That was the first time I knew that what I am has a name,’ she shook her head. ‘There’s so much I wish I understood.’
‘Orla, if you have any questions… about who you are, what you can do… I mean I can’t promise I have the answers but I do have some skill in uncovering information,’ Ged said, awkwardly. ‘What do you wish to know?’ he asked finally.
Orla put the bottle back on the shelf, with the others. ‘I have these… abilities… they must have come from somewhere.’
‘Mind-casting used to be fairly common among the mage-born.’
‘Used to. But it is more than that,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how to describe it. I am… attuned to those who are dying. I can help their passage.’ She thought about telling him more, about telling him that she gained from those she helped die, but a deep shame prevented her.
‘I don’t know what I’ll be able to find out,’ Ged said slowly. ‘And what if the truth is not what you want it to be?’
‘The truth is all I want,’ she said.
‘Then I’ll try,’ he said. ‘But now, more importantly, how are you? I heard gossip in the halls of a snake in your room?’
Orla reached out just a little. She didn’t want him to feel it because she didn’t want him to think she didn’t trust him. It was just that she needed to be sure. She felt nothing but concern, curiosity, and a low burn of frustration that they were being kept apart.
‘I’m alright,’ she said, then told him the story of the snake: her finding it, her inducing it to leave, and then her trial by the Council.
Ged looked confused.
‘Someone tried to kill you and they put you on trial?’
‘Are you surprised?’ Orla said. ‘That’s the whole point. They’ll get me one way or another.’
‘But now that you’re meeting with my father –’
‘I’m even more vulnerable. They have more reason to kill me. You see that, don’t you? Too many people have too much to gain from the status quo and even more to lose by it ending.’
Ged reached across and took her hand. She shivered.
‘Be careful, please,’ he said in a low, desperate voice. ‘I can’t lose you.’ And for a moment she saw herself through his eyes, and for the first time, the mirror didn’t show her as ugly or broken or strange. She recognised herself. She was his friend. She was loved.
She cleared her throat and released his grip, but gently.
‘It’s better if you give me a bit of warning before you do that,’ she said.
He blushed. ‘It’s probably better if we just stick to learning Khuri, I guess, even if the Council has forbidden it.’ Then I don’t have to feel naked every time I’m with you. She caught his thought and looked away.
There was a gentle knock on the door. ‘My lady,’ Aderon whispered. ‘It is time.’
Orla swallowed. It seemed ridiculous to her that she and Ged had to meet in this way, in secret, even though they had the King’s blessing. It was politics, she understood that. The King knew her position was vulnerable and tenuous, as was his own son’s. He wanted to give as few reasons as possible for the Council to move against them, or to have any basis for accusations.
‘Tomorrow?’ she said.
‘You set me a task,’ Ged said seriously. ‘It may take me away from the Palace for some time.’
‘Oh,’ Orla felt both disappointed that he would be gone again so soon after she had found him, and surprised, touched even, that he had taken her request to heart and would act on it immediately.
The door edged open. ‘It is time,’ Aderon said again, looking in at them, his face expressionless.
‘Thank you,’ Orla said to Ged, then stood and followed Aderon back into the maze.
‘Be careful, my lady,’ Aderon said, once they were some distance from the room and from Ged, as they turned from one deserted hallway into another.
‘People are trying to kill me, Aderon. I’m being very careful.’
‘That is not what I speak of. Do not seek what you cannot claim.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Orla said, blushing.
‘Gederen. He feels things very deeply. He has been alone a long time.’ Aderon put it so simply that Orla felt ashamed.
‘He’s my friend,’ she said, defensively. ‘I would not hurt him.’
They walked the rest of the way back to her room in silence.
Chapter thirty-eight
A week later, Orla was seated beside the King as Estredik gave his weekly Council report. It was an awkward session. The toad-man, as Orla still found herself thinking of him, was obviously not accustomed to being answerable to anyone, and seemed unsure how to show proper respect to this slumped and broken figure in the chair by the window. Orla had realised, as she’d seen Estredik enter and watched him struggle with his first sight of the King, that she’d become used to the King. It was not that she no longer noticed his impediments, but that she had attuned herself to his inner voice, which wa
s sharp and quick and biting, the opposite of his external appearance. She knew she had to be on her alert and ready each time she served him.
The report itself was a dull affair, to Orla’s ears anyway, though Aderon sat and gave the appearance of listening with the closest attention, and Roland, who had joined them after another of his absences, interrupted occasionally with a pointed question or comment. It was an accounting of the production of the various islands, and the trade between them, over the past year. Lots of numbers, so many it seemed an abstract game to Orla, and yet she sensed the King listening intently, searching for something, something though she was not sure what.
It does not make sense, he spoke to her finally. These figures do not make sense. The Dryuk are no longer drawing off from us so the totals should be higher. I cannot believe that Tok only produced a tell of rice this year, or that so few barrels of shimnay were transported from Ekenshi. Ask him, are the figures correct?
Orla cleared her throat. ‘The King wishes to know whether those figures are accurate. He would have expected them to be higher.’
‘Ah, yes, indeed, well…’ the toad-man seemed suddenly doubly uncomfortable.
‘Answer the question,’ Aderon said smoothly. ‘There is no point in attempting to deceive.’
‘I would never–’
‘Then answer.’
Estredik looked down again at the papers spread out before him as though something in there might leap to his rescue.
‘Well you see, my Lord, you must take into account the drizen payments.’
‘Drizen payments?’ Aderon asked.
Orla sensed the King’s mind harden, as though in expectation of what was coming.
‘Oh yes, you see, a payment must be made to support the Brethren on each of the islands. It was very small at first, but as more have arrived…’
‘But this is not in the Treaty,’ Aderon said.
‘Well no, it is a voluntary payment, which individual Councillors agreed to on behalf of each of their islands, to support the important and valuable work…’
How much grain from Tev? Ask him. The King’s thought was so strong that for a moment Orla could sense nothing else around her.
The Dying Flame Page 18