The Aware (The Isles of Glory Book 1)

by Larke, Glenda

  ‘Mind you, I was still puzzled by how you worked the coming-of-age tattoos. In the end I decided that the original tattoos must have been faked—they were a sylvmagic illusion. Somehow you avoided having real tattoos made. I guessed you had reasoned that in Cirkasecastle palace there was little risk of ever meeting one of the Awarefolk who could see through your illusion. I don’t know why it occurred to you to fake them, though. Were you planning to run away even then? When you were only eighteen?’

  She nodded, and bent to thread her purse onto her belt. ‘I was already in love with Ruarth, you see. I knew I’d never want to marry anyone else. We decided to fake the etching of the tattoos…I used sylvmagic during the ceremony. The ghemph tattooist never knew it was not really marking my hands.’

  I chuckled. ‘Oh, I rather think that it might have done. Ghemphs have a certain amount of Awareness, I think.’

  ‘Have they? Well, I’ll be damned! It never said a word.’

  ‘Perhaps it was reluctant to have anyone know that ghemphs have any Awareness. Perhaps it didn’t want to get you into trouble. They are very kind-hearted.’

  She gave me an odd look, wondering how I knew so much about the creatures, but she didn’t comment. She went on, ‘Well, after the ceremony, it was easy to maintain a sylvmagic illusion of the tattoos. I didn’t flee, though, until my father produced the Breth Bastionlord as a potential husband. Ruarth had insisted I wait until I was older, you see—he wanted me to be very sure of my own mind before I did anything that was irrevocable. After all, he had nothing to offer me except his friendship, and Lord knows, I wasn’t used to material hardships. But when that child-molesting pervert caught sight of me and pressed my father for my hand, then even Ruarth had to agree it was time to go. I had no idea then, of course, that the Bastionlord would go to the Keepers and ask them to find me, or that they would send someone after me.’

  ‘And the slavers always knew you were the Castlemaid, of course. In fact, you never were a slave.’

  ‘That was just a cover. I paid for my passage. The whole thing was arranged by a palace servant, an old nurse of mine who sympathised. We pawned some of my jewellery to finance it all. Mind you, the slavers thought to double-cross me, and earn a second fee from my father by selling me back to him, but Ruarth overheard them and I flummoxed them with sylvmagic. In the end they brought me to Gorthan Spit.’

  I grinned. Those slavers had more than they bargained for when they took on Flame and Ruarth. I said, ‘But one of them told Janko—Morthred—about it?’

  ‘Yes. We ran out of luck. Someone must have told him who I was, and that I was a sylv.’

  ‘He shut them all up with dunspells, and thought to subvert you to dunmagic. Then, doubtless, he was going to return you to Cirkase.’

  She shivered. ‘Yes. I would have been his pawn. Through me, he would have controlled both Cirkase and Breth one day. Blaze, you say he’s been weakened. How long will it be before he’s able to subvert sylvs again?’

  ‘How can I tell? I can’t even begin to guess. It took him a hundred years or so, first time around. This time… Weeks, months, years? All I can say is that I feel it will happen, one day. He is just too powerful to remain crippled. And it won’t be a hundred years, not this time.’

  ‘Then he’s too dangerous to be left alive. I will never feel safe, for a start. And with the ability to subvert sylvtalents, he’ll end up controlling the Keepers and the Keeper Isles.’

  I caught her meaning immediately. ‘You intend to go after him,’ I said flatly. ‘With Ruarth. Of all the stupid, dangerous, shrimp-brained…’

  She nodded. ‘Yeah, yeah. I know all of that. But I have to. Because he has to be stopped. And because while he’s still alive, Ruarth is still imprisoned in his blessed feathers.’ She looked fierce. ‘I need him, Blaze. Ruarth, I mean. I need him as a man. I don’t give a damn if he turns out to be a hunchback with a face like a sea-slug, I want him human. I want him in my arms, in my bed, inside of me. You love Tor, you must know how I feel.’ There was a desperation there, birthed perhaps by her longing, but edged now by the suffering she had endured on Gorthan Spit.

  There was nothing I could say, so I just nodded. Inside though, I wondered if I loved Tor quite as much as she hungered after Ruarth… ‘What makes you think he’s gone to Mekaté?’

  ‘Something he once said to me, when he thought I was safely subverted. He has more dunmagickers there, another enclave.’

  ‘And you think you can take on another enclave like Creed?’

  ‘No, of course not. If I find them I’ll get word to the Keepers. It’s just him I want. Morthred. He’s mine, Blaze.’

  Her ferocity was frightening. Then she relaxed and grinned. ‘ Oh, by the way, Ruarth says that if ever the Dustels get back their islands, he’ll make sure you’ll be their very first honorary citizen.’

  I was touched. ‘Tell him, I really appreciate the thought. And there’s no place I’d rather be citizen of, either.’ I fingered my bare earlobe. ‘Let’s hope…’

  We were both silent for a moment, thinking of what would have to happen before I could ever have that tattoo.

  Then she frowned, as though she had suddenly thought of something else. ‘You knew I was the Castlemaid before we went to the Keeper Fair to speak to Duthrick— You could have told him. You could have earned your two thousand setus and saved my life—and my arm—by telling him.’

  I nodded again.

  She cocked her head to one side. ‘You’re quite a lady, Blaze Halfbreed. That must have been a hard decision to make.’

  I looked away. ‘It was. And I’m reminded of it every time I see your arm. But when it came down to it, I couldn’t sell you to them, not even to save your life, not when you would rather have died. It would have been…a betrayal.’ I raised my eyes to meet her gaze, almost unable to speak. ‘So I gave up the chance to earn some money—so what? You offered the Castlemaid to Duthrick if he would attack Creed. You were willing to sacrifice your whole future for Tor and me, even though you wouldn’t do it to save your own life. I’ll never forget that. Not as long as I live.’

  She didn’t comment but crossed the room to take me in her arms, as best she could. We stood, like that, hugging one another and, I believe, neither of us were quite dry-eyed.

  Then she was gone, her leather bag slung over her shoulder, her fair hair swinging free. She was Lyssal, Castlemaid of Cirkase, royal heir to an islandom, but I knew to me she’d always be Flame Windrider.

  TWENTY-SIX

  I went to find Tor. He was in his room and he was also packing.

  He looked up as I entered and his eyes crinkled at the corners as they always did when he smiled. He had shaved off his beard and he did not look that much different to the Stragglerman I had first seen sitting by himself in the taproom on my first day in Gorthan Docks. He said, ‘I have arranged passage on a trader that’s calling at the Spatts. I have business there.’

  ‘I thought you might want to go with Ransom.’ In spite of what I had told Flame, I was by no means sure if Tor wanted to have me along. I was trying to appear disinterested, and ended up sounding uncharacteristically tentative.

  ‘The Keepers will see to it that he’s returned to his father.’ He ran a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture I’d never seen him make before. ‘You know I want you to come with me.’

  ‘I know.’

  He was unusually diffident. ‘I, er, asked for a passage for two.’

  I smiled.

  His face lightened and he gave that grin of his that chased away all the seriousness. ‘Are you sure? There’s such a lot we have to talk about. There are things I have to tell you. Things you should know.’

  Before he could get too carried away, I said, ‘No more talk of marriage, Tor. It’s not possible.’

  ‘Well—we need to talk about that, too. Right now, I’m just pleased you’ll come. I was so afraid you might want to sail with the Keepers. That you’d go back to their service.’

  I
stared at him, surprised and nettled. After what had happened he still thought I might serve the Keepers? Didn’t he realise that it wasn’t the Keepers who tempted me away from him now? How typical of a man—it had never occurred to him that I might just have chosen to link my life to another woman rather than follow him.

  I said, ‘You still thought that I might sell the Castlemaid to the Keepers? Could you really have thought that I would serve people who would do anything to get that murderous black powder—so that they can threaten all the Isles with it?’

  ‘No, not really, I suppose. But I know how much having citizenship means to you.’

  ‘Not as much as I thought it did. Once, long ago on Calment Minor, I discovered there were some things I would not do to myself for citizenship; here I learned that there are some things I would not do to others. Once I realised Flame was the Castlemaid and I saw that she’d rather die than go back, I couldn’t betray her.

  ‘And now, well, if I don’t deliver the Castlemaid to Duthrick, I don’t think I’ll find it very easy to persuade the Keeper Council to grant me citizenship. They don’t like failure, especially not Duthrick. I won’t gain anything by continuing in service to them.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure you knew that Flame was Castlemaid Lyssal.’

  ‘Did you know?’

  ‘Yes, once I saw she had contact with the Dustels. Before that, well, I thought she must be, in spite of the sylvmagic and the lack of tattoos. The information I had made it seem likely that Flame and Lyssal were one and the same person. I even had a description of the Castlemaid that fitted.’

  Once again there was evidence that he had access to knowledge that was denied most people. Once again that thought came unbidden: who was he? And it was swiftly followed by another: was I so saltwater-mad that I was going to become the travelling companion of a man who hadn’t yet told me the truth about himself?

  I didn’t want to think about it. I said, ‘I must pack my own things, I’ll join you shortly.’

  Back in my own room, I threw the few belongings I had into my pack. There wasn’t much; thirty years of living and I hadn’t accumulated enough to make any self-respecting thief look twice. I wasn’t quite finished when Duthrick came to see me.

  I didn’t hear him enter the room, but caught the smell of sylvmagic and turned to see him standing there, just inside the doorway. ‘Don’t you knock?’ I asked sourly.

  ‘The door was open.’ He was making an effort to be pleasant.

  I wasn’t. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘The Castlemaid.’

  I gave a snort of disgust. ‘Still? Great Trench below, you never give up, do you? Well, I’ve got news for you, Duthrick—I know why you want her. I know the price of your foul black powder: Lyssal of Cirkase for the Breth Bastionlord, otherwise the Lord won’t sell you the stuff.’

  I’d shocked him; his face pinched up in surprise. Finally he said, ‘So you know. Well then, you know how important it is that the Castlemaid is found. Blaze, you’ve seen what the cannon-guns can do—’

  I turned on him in a fury. ‘Yes, I’ve seen. It is unspeakable!’

  He was taken aback. ‘But you saw what success we had with razing that village—’

  ‘Success? Oh yes, that was a success. You killed hundreds: slaves, children, subverted sylvtalents, a Menod patriarch, anyone at all who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, guilty or not. You destroyed houses, anybody or anything that happened to get in the way.’ Absurdly, I remembered all the feathers blowing around, all that had remained of someone’s laying flock of waders. They hadn’t asked to die either.

  ‘Do you, of all people, dare to be righteous? How many people have you killed with that Calmenter sword of yours?’

  ‘When I kill, at least it’s face to face. They know who’s doing it and why. They have a chance to stop me—with their skills or with words. And I know who I’m killing. I am forced to take responsibility for what I do. And I’ve never killed an innocent who happened to be in the way, simply because they were there.’ I had an unbidden memory of the slaves who had died on my sword at Morthred’s instigation and felt more than a twinge of guilt. I hurried on. ‘But this—this unspeakable horror of yours—’ I almost choked on my words. ‘Did the people who fired the cannon-guns see who they killed? Did they know how many innocents were cut down? How many slaves were buried in the ruins of buildings? Were they forced to see and care what they did? D’y’know, Duthrick, I’ve always been reluctant to use a bow, and now I know why—because it’s too easy to kill that way. You can stand away from your victim, and not see the expression on his face— What you did yesterday was immoral. It was despicable.’

  ‘These subverted sylvtalents had to be stopped and there was no other way we could do it without risking meeting Morthred and being subverted ourselves. We had to do it from a distance. It was necessary. I’m sorry it was necessary. But it was necessary. Perhaps if you’d served us better and killed Morthred at the inn, then it wouldn’t have been necessary.’ I winced and he pressed home his advantage. ‘Blaze, can’t you see what a wonderful invention this is? With cannon-guns mounted on our ships we can control the sea; there will never be another smuggler or slaver or pirate. With land-based cannon-guns we can force others to obey Keeper law. Our system of law, and equality before the law, will prevail throughout the Isles of Glory. The mere threat of cannon-guns will be enough to stop all petty warring between islandoms; there will be peace enforced by our fleet— Can’t you see it, Blaze? The kind of society we can build?’

  ‘You can’t build a fine society on shit, Duthrick. And these weapons of yours are shit. If you want there to be decency throughout the Isles, then show people that decency works, that it brings peace and prosperity. Don’t expect anything but hate when you force yourselves on others. You won’t build a decent world when you yourselves lack decency. Practise compassion, understanding, equality. Teach your bloody Keeper sylvs that liberty only works when coupled with right—and responsibility. Learn to practise equality, not just preach the myth of it.

  ‘And as for peace, your weapons won’t bring peace, but war. That is ever the way of weapons and people who impose their strength on others. And have you thought what will happen when your enemies learn how to use this black powder of yours? That’s when you’ll find out just how fragile this peace of yours is.’ My own rhetoric startled me; I wasn’t usually given to such eloquence. I thought wryly that I was beginning to sound like Tor.

  I concluded, ‘You damn near killed me with that hellish stuff—don’t expect me to bring you the Castlemaid.’

  ‘I see.’ He was snapping at me—voice, eyes, brows, stance, all snapping like a basket of irate cockles. ‘And just where do you think you’re going now? You have no citizenship and doubtless little money. Without us, the only place you can afford to stay is here on Gorthan Spit. If you want Keeper protection, Keeper money, Keeper citizenship, then you have to earn it.’

  ‘I’ve earned it twice over at the very least,’ I said wearily, ‘but you haven’t given it to me. I’m going with Tor Ryder.’

  His eyebrows shot up off his forehead. ‘Tor Ryder? Ryder and you? You’re going off with a patriarch? Blaze Halfbreed is joining the Menod?’ And he started to laugh. Spontaneous, if cynical, laughter, great bubbles of it. For the first time in our relationship, I had brought genuine amusement to Syr-sylv Duthrick’s lips. How much greater his mockery would have been had he known how much he had devastated me, had he known that he had just brought my world tumbling down around my ears.

  ‘How did you know he was a patriarch?’ I asked. My voice was coming to me across miles of ocean; I could hear the waves creaming in my head.

  ‘I should have known right from the beginning—who else wears all black and has the face of a doom merchant, if not a Manod? But it was one of the other Keepers who told me. She knew of him; he’s been a thorn in our side for a long while. He’s a clever fellow, I’ll grant you that. A troublemaker. One day he is go
ing to meet the Keeper Council head on, and we’ll have to deal with him. Be careful you aren’t caught up in the backwash of that encounter, Blaze.’

  ‘Leave me, Duthrick. You’ve been insulting enough for one day.’

  He stared at me, hearing the loathing in my voice. ‘First I want to know about the bird you sent with the message. Was that a Dustel? Are there really still sentient Dustel birds?’

  I was too upset to talk to him. ‘Find out for yourself, for once. Leave me, Duthrick.’

  He didn’t like the arbitrary dismissal one little bit. He said harshly, ‘If I could be certain that you know where the Castlemaid is, I’d never let you leave this island until you told me.’

  I pointed to the door. ‘Out, damn it!’

  This time he took the hint.

  I slammed the door behind him and collapsed onto the bed. I was shaking.

  I’d been as blind as a lugworm in its burrow. How could I have been so stupid? Of course Tor was a patriarch. A Menod priest. It explained so much. His reluctance to kill. His insistence on marriage (how could a patriarch live in so-called sin?). His compassion. His prayers for Alain. His whole relationship with Alain. His wish to see a better world replace what we had. His mental strength and ability to endure, his knowledge—he had the whole Menod network to keep him informed of what went on in the Isles. His conversion to the faith explained the difference between the man who had been the Lance of Calment and the man he was now. And those periods when he was so remote from me, so turned inwards—he had been praying, of course.