by Spurrier, Jo
‘I’ve never heard it upheld for women,’ Delphine said. Harwin had only escaped the charge because a mage couldn’t be given such a sentence — he’d been sent on the expedition instead.
‘I thought as much,’ Rhia said. ‘Anyway, I like Ricalan. I don’t need a husband to practise my trade, and no one cares who I share my furs with. I wouldn’t find such freedom in the west.’ She poured water into the bowl and handed it to Delphine. ‘Besides, I would rather give my allegiance to those who free slaves than to those who make them.’ Rhia pointed to a packet of herbs she’d left on the stool beside the stove. ‘I have left enough to brew more tea, should you want it. I will check on you again in a few hours.’
The tea soothed her roiling belly, but Delphine slept badly. Her dreams took her to a Ricalani village in the aftermath of a raid, where houses burned and dark streaks of blood stained the snow. She searched frantically for something she couldn’t name, pawing through the scattered bodies with only the firelight to guide her. Within the burning buildings men and animals screamed, and in the darkness beyond the fires women pleaded and cried out in pain, while Akharian men laughed with raucous voices. It went on for an age, until she finally found what she was searching for. It was a tiny body, dark-skinned like herself, lying stiff and cold on the bloody snow.
She awoke choking on tears.
When morning came, she felt wrung out and exhausted, but her head had cleared and her nausea had settled. When Rhia came to speak to her, Delphine asked for porridge, a dish more comforting than the meat-filled pancakes with which the Ricalanis broke their fast. She prepared it herself, with water because there was no milk, and sought permission to eat outside her tent, in the fresher air of the cavern.
What in the hells was I thinking? she said to herself as she looked around the disarray of the salvaged camp, pushing soggy oats around the bowl. You have the right to be angry, but is revenge truly worth the suffering it will cause these folk who had every reason to overthrow us? And what did she truly want? As much as she longed to repay Isidro for his lies and betrayal, did she really want him to spend the rest of his life in chains? He would never have another chance to work such harm. He would be kept alive so long as he was useful, and then he would meet his end in an imperial triumph, a sacrifice to the Gods for the glory of the empire. Would that make you happy? Delphine demanded of herself. What would Papa say if he knew what you were doing?
‘Good morning,’ a soft voice said in Ricalani, and Delphine went stock-still. The voice was distant, the tone unfamiliar. It was only when a woman replied, ‘Good morning, my lord,’ that Delphine realised they weren’t talking to her at all. As if they would, she sneered at herself. No one here has anything to say to you.
‘Anoa — it is Anoa, yes? Mira asked me to give these to you — oh here, you needn’t get up.’ The voice came from the far side of her tent and, pricked by curiosity, Delphine set down her bowl and shuffled to the nearest corner, where she peeked around to see a man and woman standing beneath one of the lampposts. The man was Mira’s relative, the fellow who had come with Isidro’s brother to lead the attack. The other was Torren’s slave-girl, a beautiful young woman he’d picked out on the day of her capture. As Delphine watched, the girl sank slowly back to her seat on an overturned crate.
‘I thought all our stores were rationed, my lord,’ the girl said, looking down at a birch-bark box in her hands.
‘They are, but Mira tells me that red meat will help restore your strength, and since we haven’t any fresh, dried will have to do.’
‘Thank you, my lord,’ the girl mumbled.
‘I’d like to ask a favour of you. We — that is, Cam and I, are going to teach Sierra how to fight, so she can have a change from her lessons with that Akharian woman, but it would be good if she had someone her own size to spar with. Will you help us?’
For the first time, Anoa looked up and met his gaze. ‘Me?’
‘I heard what you did in the battle, so I know you have the spirit for it, but that’s not the whole of the matter. Sierra … well, sometimes her power spills over. Some people find it frightening, but you’ve been around mages. I thought you wouldn’t be bothered by a bit of light and noise.’
‘Will you teach me to use a sword?’ Anoa asked.
‘I … don’t see why not,’ Ardamon said. ‘We were going to teach Sierra to use staff and dagger, but there’s no reason I couldn’t give you some lessons on the side. Why a sword?’
‘So I can cut that bastard’s head off if I ever see him again,’ Anoa said, turning her lovely face away. ‘Oh, don’t say it. I know I couldn’t touch him. He’s a mage, and what am I?’
‘Well, ordinary folk have dealt with mages before. I’ll warn you, it takes ten years to master a weapon, but I’ll teach you if you like.’
The girl gave him a sharp look. ‘Why? Why would a man like you bother with a woman with no kin and nothing to her name?’
The girl knew what manner of face she wore, Delphine realised. And what men usually wanted from her.
‘Because a woman with your guts and spirit deserves to smile once in a while,’ Ardamon said.
‘If you want me to smile, my lord, I suspect you’ll be waiting a cursed long time,’ Anoa snapped.
‘If that’s what it takes,’ Ardamon said with a shrug. ‘You know, if Mira thought I only wanted you in my furs, she’d have my hide pegged out for the crows. I’ll send for you when it’s time for lessons, and by the by, you needn’t call me “my lord”. Sierra doesn’t bother, so you may as well save your breath.’ Ardamon gave her a nod and strolled away, leaving Anoa frowning after him.
Delphine retreated and picked up her bowl, but her appetite had vanished. If she got her wish, if the Akharians reclaimed the Spire and all those within it, Torren would take Anoa back. All the other men and women would be in chains again, too. Every blow from a fist, every lash of the whip, every rape and beating would be blood on her hands.
Delphine hugged her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms. What have I done?
Mira shuffled the pages once again. ‘Are you sure about this, Issey?’
Isidro rubbed his eyes. ‘Mira, I just don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it, but something seems off.’
‘I had Rhia take a look — she’s the only one who reads Akharian besides you. She thinks names and places in the letter are from some famous play, but she says she can’t be sure. I’ve looked through it as closely as I can, and I can’t find any hidden code.’
‘I’m not even sure there is one … it’s just so unlike Delphine to waste time on idle chatter.’ Frowning, he read through the letter to Harwin once again. It began simply enough as she assured him she was well treated and asked him to tell her girls she was well, but then she rambled on to speak of people and places he’d never heard her mention during his time as a slave. ‘What sort of play?’
‘Issey, I’ve no idea. Rhia couldn’t remember the details. Delphine’s clearly taking this hard — she’s probably just thinking of happier times. I’m more worried about this other blasted letter she’s written. She’s done as we asked, right enough, and told the general that the Spire is too valuable to risk to battle, but it means there’ll be a lot of pressure on Uncle Dremman to settle this quickly. Really, we have no choice in the matter; we simply don’t have the supplies to let the negotiations drag on. But it does mean Sierra won’t have much time before the Slavers start breathing down our necks. If they discover she’s as untrained as she is …’
Isidro tossed the letter down on the table. At the movement a pulse of power rose through his skin, sending a skitter of blue light rippling across the back of his hand. Mira jumped, and Isidro bit back a curse, shrugging his sleeve down to cover his hand.
‘That’s very unnerving,’ Mira scolded, glancing at the doorway to see if anyone had noticed the flash.
‘You should see it from this side,’ Isidro muttered.
‘Does that mean Sierra’s doing well, or ba
dly?’ Mira asked, gathering up the papers to tuck them into a leather case.
‘She’s working very hard,’ he said.
Mira narrowed her eyes. ‘You know, Issey, for someone who claims to despise politics, you’re very good at giving answers that completely evade the question.’
‘If anyone asks, tell them that. She’s working hard and making progress.’ He could feel Sierra pacing the training ground with her power running so high it couldn’t help but spill over into him. It was partially his fault; after a morning tumble in the furs she’d drawn enough energy from him that she’d had to retreat to the training grounds to burn it off safely. Isidro closed his eyes and found her in the middle of the chamber, focussing on an exercise with power wrapped in thick cords around her.
‘To be honest, the tales spreading about your wretched ghost worry me more. Have you heard what people are saying? Gossip has it the old mages could trap a person’s soul and keep him enslaved for all eternity. Folk are petrified that the Akharians will work out how to do it, and then there’ll be no escape for those they’ve taken prisoner.’ Mira shuddered. ‘Frankly, I’m inclined to agree with them.’
‘The knowledge is safer with Nirveli than it would be in any book. She wouldn’t tell the Slavers anything, and they can’t force her to reveal it.’
‘I suppose that’s a small measure of comfort, but you must be aware she could harm our cause more than help it. Those standing against us could use her to whip the common folk into a frenzy, and they may yet try to start another Great Purge, even if it would leave us helpless against the Slavers. We need to show Sirri off to counteract any whispers against her. Terundel bought her a lot of goodwill, even with the village destroyed, but I promise you our enemies are already working to erode it.’
Isidro nodded. ‘She needs time, Mira.’
‘Well then,’ Mira said, ‘we’ll have to find a way to buy her some.’
‘When are you leaving?’
‘As soon as possible. No doubt there’s a lot going on that hasn’t made it into Uncle’s messages. I’ll need as long as possible in the clan’s camp to learn as much as I can.’
‘Can you delay for a little while?’ Isidro asked. ‘Just an hour or two. There’s something wrong with this letter, Mira; I need to get to the bottom of it.’
Mira gave him a narrow look. ‘We don’t really have even that to spare … but Cam always says I should trust your hunches. Alright, do what you need to — just let me get on my way as soon as you can.’
Isidro nodded his thanks. ‘I’ll need those letters, though. Leave the case with me.’
Next, Isidro went in search of Cam. On the way, he passed Delphine’s tent and saw her hunched on the bare ground, frowning furiously at her feet. If Rhia hadn’t told him she seemed better this morning, he’d have thought her still unwell. By all reports, she had been all fire and fury while he lay ill, and he couldn’t understand what had brought about this change.
He’d expected her anger — how else could she react when she found herself betrayed and her fortunes so thoroughly overturned? But beneath her arrogance and the callousness she’d internalised as an elite, free-born woman in a slave-keeping society, he knew Delphine had a kind heart and a sense of right and wrong that was not so different from his own. He’d hoped she would react to capture as he had once the initial storm of pain and despair had passed; by taking stock of the situation and realising it was to her advantage to cooperate. He’d made it clear that she was a prisoner, not a slave, and once she did as he asked she would be free to go, but it seemed he’d failed to consider just how deeply her pride had been wounded. It was unsettling to realise he’d misjudged her so completely.
Passing by, he glanced back and saw Delphine lift her head, turning towards Mira’s tent as Mira emerged. Delphine shifted, seeming about to stand, but then one of Mira’s new serving-women ducked inside. Delphine settled again, although she continued to watch.
Thoughtful, Isidro went on to find Cam, and discovered him picking over the salvage. Anoa was with him, watching sceptically as Cam used a leather cord to bind a cross-piece and hand-grip to a piece of wood to turn it into a practice sword. ‘Issey,’ Cam said, setting his work aside. ‘I thought you’d be with Sierra.’
‘Something’s come up,’ Isidro said. ‘I need your help.’ He turned to Anoa. ‘Yours too, I think; if you don’t mind.’
‘Laundry, miss?’
Delphine glanced up to find Anoa standing over her with a basket propped on one hip. ‘I’ve got clean clothes for you. If you’ll give me your old ones I’ll take them out for washing.’
‘Oh,’ Delphine said, and glanced towards Mira’s tent again. There has to be a way to put this right. I won’t be responsible for bringing more harm to innocent people, no matter how I feel about those who brought me here. She couldn’t do a thing with this flinty-eyed young woman standing over her, however. ‘Thank you,’ Delphine said, and took the bundled clothing. ‘I’ll, er, I’ll just …’ She ducked inside the tent to change. She’d been given clothes from her own luggage, Delphine noted with a touch of bitterness.
Once dressed, she bundled her soiled garments into the basket, and Anoa carried them away.
Delphine had never been left in the camp in what were nominally daylight hours. By this time of morning she was usually immersed in Sierra’s lessons. Evidently Rhia had decided she was still unwell. How like them not to bother to inform me of that fact, Delphine thought with a sniff.
As she took up her position once again, she saw Mira’s servant emerge from the tent, take down the lantern on the post outside and carry it away. Light was too precious to be wasted, and with it gone, she supposed, there must be no one left in this part of the camp to need it.
There were voices in the distance, but this corner of the cavern was quiet. Delphine rose to her knees and carefully looked around, but there was no one watching her. It was unlike her captors to leave her unsupervised, but she didn’t dwell on the matter. This was the opportunity she’d hoped for.
Delphine picked her way around the neighbouring tents. The gloom around the mouth of Mira’s tent was deep enough that only someone watching closely could have seen her slip inside.
Within the tent it was even darker; only a faint glow seeped around the stove door. Delphine found herself reaching for her lantern-stone out of habit, but of course it had been taken away, and would have been useless to her in any case. She felt her way through the gloom until she reached a low table propped on two carved trestles. There, she crouched and groped across it until she found a leather document case with a bundle of papers stuffed inside it.
She couldn’t simply take the lot. It would arouse too much suspicion, and there was only one she needed to dispose of. Delphine took the case to the stove, and with her sleeve as a pad she opened the door for light and shuffled through the bundled papers.
After one pass she couldn’t find it, and with a mumbled curse, Delphine glanced towards the door. There was no sound from outside. She was safe, for now. Hunkering down, she tipped all the papers out onto the ground-sheet and then put them back into the case one by one. It was not there.
‘Looking for something?’ said a voice in the darkness.
Delphine dropped the papers with a yelp of fright. The glow spilling from the stove was just enough to make him out — now she was looking — sitting perfectly still at the back of the tent. With a rustle of clothing he pulled out a lantern-stone and set it glowing.
Delphine took a shaking breath, and then clamped her jaw shut and bunched her hands into fists.
‘Were you searching for this?’ He held up a single sheet of paper, folded into quarters, with Harwin’s name scrawled on it.
For once in her life Delphine found herself struck speechless. She could think of no defence to offer, nothing at all that would make this situation better, and no way to keep it from getting much, much worse. And so she did the only thing she could think of — she turned and bolted for the door.
No sooner had she barrelled through the flaps than she slammed into a warrior standing outside the tent. It was Isidro’s foster-brother, and running into him felt like running into an ox. Delphine bounced right off him and sprawled on the rocky floor of the cavern, but before she could react, he hauled her up by the collar of her shirt and marched her back into the tent. ‘Well, Issey, you were right. Do you want me to stick around for another pair of hands?’
‘Thanks, but no,’ Isidro said, still lounging in Mira’s commandeered campaign chair. ‘You might stay nearby, though.’
Cam gave him a mocking salute. ‘As my captain commands.’
As he left, Isidro held up her letter once again. ‘Explain yourself.’
Her heart was pounding so fiercely she thought it might tear free from her chest. ‘I …’ she began, but couldn’t find the words to go on. Her mind raced, but every path it found swiftly became a dead end.
Isidro kept his gaze steady, and let silence fill up the tent.
‘Oh, just burn it,’ Delphine said. ‘That’s all I wanted to do. Throw it in the fire and be done with it.’
‘Why?’
‘Must we go through this?’ Delphine demanded. ‘Haven’t you humiliated me enough?’
Isidro’s face darkened. ‘Enough? I don’t know, Delphine, why don’t you tell me? You haven’t been stripped naked and examined; you haven’t been tied up, tortured and interrogated for hours on end. You haven’t been made to watch and assist as your own people are enslaved and abused. How much humiliation would be enough to make up for that?’
‘That was none of my doing, and you know it. I did all I could to protect you!’
‘As did I you,’ he said. ‘The letter, Delphine. Why should I burn it? I want to hear it from your own lips.’
Delphine sagged, but after a moment she lifted her head and returned his gaze. ‘You don’t know, do you? You’re bluffing. You don’t know what it says.’