by Glenda Larke
She made an exasperated sound and went to pummel his chest with her fists, but he caught her up in his embrace instead. His hunger—hot, desperate, greedy—plunged him deep into a kiss, into wondrous joy at her instant response. They fell in a tumble on the floor in front of the fire, tearing at one another’s clothes, consumed by need, by passion, by grief.
And afterwards, long afterwards, they talked, lovers’ talk of a combined future, of dreams of a life together, of Amberlyn. Deep into the night they made love again, leisurely, with tenderness, and slept only when it was already close to dawn.
I’m going home.
Terelle had to subdue the urge to dance with happiness as they said goodbye to Gelder and Umber the next morning and set off for the Quartern. All six of them were riding, the white myriapede Jasper had brought with him to Khromatis. A full load.
“I had hoped Umber would be coming with us,” Rubric said, as they turned out of the main gate onto the road towards the Borderlands. “He seemed so interested in the Quartern.”
“I thought he would too,” Jasper said. “I guess I wasn’t as persuasive as I thought I was.” One more stormlord in addition to Rubric would have made a difference.
“Wait a moment—isn’t that him?” Rubric asked, indicating a man standing by the roadside ahead.
“How did he get out here so quickly?” Like Rubric, Jasper had no trouble recognising Umber’s water long before they were close enough to see his features. The Watergiver was seated on his alpiner, apparently waiting for them.
“He obviously knows a shortcut we don’t. Must have cut through the farm and jumped a few fences, I guess.”
When they stopped alongside him, Umber was grinning affably. “Thought I’d like to be seeing the world. Thought it might be better if I just left a note for my pa. Easier that way. Ye reckon that ugly beast of yours will take my weight once we reach the Borderlands?”
“I’ll stuff you in a pannier,” Jasper said, his spirits lifting. “After all, we don’t have to take any water with us, do we? We already have our own supply.” He pointed upwards where their stolen storm still loomed, gravid with rain. They had been taking it in turns to keep it together.
“I’m far too large to fit into a pannier.” He surveyed them all with a critical eye and switched languages. “Jade, my dear, I am coming with you. I think you might be the smallest. You can take the pannier.”
“You, Umber Grey, can walk as far as I am concerned! At least I’ve had it confirmed that you’re an idiot. Volunteering to go to the Quartern? Are you out of your eel-catcher’s simple mind?”
“You’re such a high-nose, Jade Verdigris,” he told her, still cheerful, and turned his mount to face in the same direction as the pede. “I’ll ride my alpiner for the time being.” He smiled at Terelle. “Cuz, I’ve not long found you—how could I let you ride out of my life so soon?”
Affection for him made her smile. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” he asked Jasper, beaming at them all. “Let’s get going!”
They waited in the woodland until the darkest part of the night and then headed for the Borderlands. They aimed to ford the river well away from Marchford, but it wasn’t long before Umber, still on his alpiner so as not to burden the pede until necessary, rode closer saying, “Ye feel what I’m feeling?”
Jasper was terse in his reply. “Yes.”
“What is it?” Terelle asked. She was sitting directly behind him, with Jade behind her, then Rubric, and Dibble as rear man. Elmar was driving.
“Mounted men,” he replied. “About thirty of them. Moving fast this way. If they’re after us, they must have a waterlord among them.”
“Why would they be after us? We’re leaving, after all.”
“My eldest brother’s there,” Rubric said. “I can feel him.”
“Jet has told Bice what happened at home,” Jade said. “He’s ordered a border watch for us.”
Terelle translated and Jasper swore. Neither Bice nor his eldest son would have heard from Jet, of course, but if Hue was on duty looking for the water of runaway Alabasters attempting to cross, he would recognise his mother’s. And his brother’s. This was probably no more than bad luck. At a guess, border patrols would have been stepped up and waterlords assigned to all the night-time ones—even, it seemed, someone with a recently broken collar bone. “Elmar, move it. As fast as you can!”
They plunged down the grassed slope to the river in fast mode, blessing the ability of a pede to flow smoothly across the roughest of terrain.
Jade gripped Terelle’s shoulder, crying out in alarm.
Rubric said, “It’s all right, Mother. These aren’t alpiners; they won’t break a leg in the dark.”
Without halting, the pede plunged into the river. Elmar hadn’t even slowed the pede down, or attempted to see how deep the water was first. The animal accepted his guidance and headed for the other side, its feet scrabbling for purchase on the riverbed. Jasper nervously eyed the water sliding past in the darkness, but it never rose high enough to wet them. He looked back over his shoulder, looking for Umber. Some way behind them his alpiner was skidding down the bank and into the flow. It soon had to swim. Umber dismounted into the water and clung to the saddle as the animal valiantly battled the current. They ended up further downstream than the pede but made it safely up the opposite bank.
Elmar drew rein at the top to give the pede a chance to shake its head and rattle its segments to rid itself of water. Jasper called back to Rubric, “Are you with us on this one?”
“I won’t help ye kill my brother,” he retorted, “if that’s what ye mean.”
“No. I thought of using water to slow them down. That way we can avoid a fight and unnecessary deaths. Are there going to be any other waterlords besides your brother?”
“I doubt it.”
“Clueless clods,” Umber said as he trotted up, streaming water as he dried his clothes. “They don’t know who they face here.”
“Let’s throw some river water at them,” Jasper said.
“Fine with me!”
“Elmar, get us started for the border again. Not too fast this time.”
With Rubric helping, Umber and Jasper lifted water from the river and heaved it at the men approaching on the other side. No sooner was the water in the air than it started shooting off in all directions. Hue had no intention of getting wet.
He’s powerful, Jasper thought. This is not going to work, and Rubric knows it. Which is why he was happy to oblige, of course. He sighed inwardly. Hue might be a murdering bastard, but it was unfair to ask his brother to fight him, especially when his mother was there. Fortunately, because she didn’t understand the language they were using, she had little idea of what was going on. And the good thing was that Hue would probably not want to throw water at her.
He leaned forward to speak into Elmar’s ear. “Fast mode,” he said, reaching for the raincloud up in the sky to make it rain.
He waited until the Khromatian armsmen were crossing the river before he dragged the rain he’d created down as fast as he could, building up a wind with the force of the drag. Rain and wind barrelled sideways at the men in the river. Hue must have felt it coming and he did his best, but he was no match for a many-pronged attack. Water assailed him from Rubric and Umber, and from Jasper’s wind-driven sideways assault. Worst of all must have been the sudden rise of the river as the wind pushed against the current and water built up, swamping the alpiners. In his mind, Jasper felt the troop fall apart into a number of struggling individuals, all fighting to stay afloat. As he’d never met Hue, he had no idea which of them he was.
He heard Rubric cry out, anguished, “They’re wearing armour!”
Another thing he hadn’t known. And he didn’t need to be told why it was important. He began to feel men dying. Drowning, dragged under by the weight of what they wore. Rubric was silent. A while later, two riderless alpiners galloped past, panicked and dripping. Behin
d him, Terelle leaned forward to whisper into his ear. “The armsmen were Rubric’s comrades. They may have mocked him, but maybe he called some of them friend. And then there’s his brother, of course.”
He nodded, his victory subdued. The Khromatians wouldn’t be following them, but perhaps the price had been high.
Elmar drove the pede on, and by the time they reached the beginnings of the marsh of the Borderlands there was no pursuit. He reined in, and Umber dismounted. Jasper climbed down as Umber began to unsaddle.
“Hue?” he asked in a whisper.
“One of the dead,” Umber whispered back.
He was shocked. “Are you sure? A waterlord should be able to stop himself drowning!”
“An alpiner landed on him in the water. I think he must have been knocked unconscious.”
“Rubric must know he’s dead. He’d have felt it.”
“Of course.”
Jasper looked back at the pede. “Rubric? Here a moment?”
Rubric dismounted in silence and came to join them.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anyone to die,” Jasper said, keeping his voice down so Jade did not hear.
By starlight, Rubric’s face was stony. “Ye can’t expect me to believe ye’re sorry Hue died.”
“No, I’m not. He was involved in Feroze’s murder. But I am sorry to give you and your mother more grief. Would you like me to tell her?”
“Don’t ye dare. She must not know. Not—not now, not yet. When she returns to Khromatis it will be soon enough for her to know two of her sons are dead.”
He reeled under the impact of the words. Rubric knows about Jet?
“I know my alpiners, Jasper. And Dibble and Elmar were riding two of the beasts that left with Jet’s party. Ye killed all of them, didn’t ye? It’s unlikely Jet would ever have ridden past Elmar and Dibble. He’d have recognised their water.”
Jasper had to swallow before he could reply. “They recognised Elmar and Dibble and attacked. Your mother…?”
“She hasn’t thought it through and I’m not telling her.”
Jasper bowed his head, oddly ashamed, yet knowing he would do the same again in the same circumstances. “I don’t know what to say to you.”
Rubric shrugged. “Say nothing. I didn’t love my brothers. But for all that, they were my mother’s sons, and I dread facing her grief.”
“I promise I’ll see you both returned to Khromatis with every assistance, if that’s your wish once the painting is fulfilled.”
Rubric turned away without another word and remounted, fumbling for the carved foot slots in the dark. His mother spoke to him and he replied, but Jasper had no idea what was said. His stomach churned. Weeping hells, I hate war. I hate what it does to us all. Even the victories could make bitter memories.
Umber retrieved his belongings and abandoned the saddle, bridle and saddle bags. His placed his personal things into a pede’s panniers. “Now, he said cheerfully, “Jade…?”
She glared at him and shifted onto the same segment as her son. “Sit there, you horrible man,” she said, indicating the place she had vacated.
“Elmar, you swap places with me,” Jasper ordered. Right then he wanted to distance himself as far as he could from all three of the Khromatians. “I’m driving.” When they were all settled, he said, “Everyone comfortable? Then let’s go home!”
Crossing the Borderlands was never pleasant, but having a stormlord in charge of the mount made a difference. Sensing far ahead, Jasper could select the best route through the stagnant ponds and had no trouble finding dry land when they needed to rest. When Bice—they assumed it was Bice—tried to make it rain there to bog them down, Jasper and Umber stole his clouds, combined them with what they already had, and kept them intact and overhead to shade them from the ferocious heat of the sun.
Unfortunately, there was nothing any of them could do about the boggy stench of the miasma they inhaled with every breath, or the niggling hunger from their half-rations because they carried more oats and beans for the pede than food for themselves. In addition, Jasper, Umber and Rubric were constantly having to protect them all from a continual barrage of water attacks and attempts to disrupt their own theft of Khromatian clouds. No one complained, though, not even Jade, but the three water sensitives were exhausted by the time they finally emerged on the far side several days later.
It was dawn on the Whiteout, when the salt pan was at its most beautiful, but even so, it looked to be what it was: a barren and hostile land, where men did not belong.
“God be voiceless,” Umber said, horror in his voice. “Alabaster’s live here?”
“They do indeed. This is where you exiled them to,” Jasper answered, deliberately grim.
Again, even Jade couldn’t think of anything to say to that when Rubric translated for her.
When Umber spoke once more, he sounded subdued. “Father said some of the Watergivers were talking of invading to be bringing the Alabasters to their knees. To force their agreement to be returning.” He winced as a spindevil sent a flurry of salt battering against his face. He gave a bark of humourless laughter. “They have no idea. No alpiner could survive out here. We could bring water, but…” He gazed around at the colourless landscape ahead of them. “What would they live on? Alabasters import grain from us. What, by all that’s holy, will people eat if trade ceases?”
“Samphire and pede milk,” Jasper said, his memory of the Alabaster diet all too fresh.
Umber didn’t look happy.
“What do you want to do with the cloud now that we’re here?” Rubric asked Jasper.
“Hold on to it for the time being. It’s the only thing that’s going to save us from being hot and burned over the next few days. Besides, I’d like the Alabasters to see with their own eyes what Khromatian Watergivers could do for this quarter if they put their minds to it.” He smiled. “I think a regular water supply for the White Quarter will be a non-negotiable demand once they see what’s possible.”
Terelle translated for Jade, who turned away as if to avoid the words. Jasper watched and knew her preconceptions about Alabasters had been shaken. Good, he thought, but he couldn’t rid himself of the guilt he felt. His rational mind told him two unpleasant brothers had died, and the world was a better place because they had gone—but he had to look Lord Jade in the eye every morning and pretend he didn’t know he’d been instrumental in killing her sons.
The Bastion asked to see both Jasper and Terelle the moment they arrived in Samphire. They found him sitting in his cramped study, a shrunken old man dwarfed by the huge hewn-salt armchair. The steady sound of the capstan burred in the background as it moved the levers and shafts to draw water up to the cistern. Messenjer was standing behind the Bastion’s chair, his long fingers fidgeting with the embroidery on his white robe. One look at the Bastion’s face was enough to tell Jasper something was seriously wrong.
“I’m relieved to see your return, my lords,” the Bastion said. “Remarkable. Remarkable, what ye’ve done. There has never been a Khromatian visitor here in my lifetime. Never. Watergivers at that. I hope to be meeting them later. And of course, we saw the clouds over the Humps. Thank you for your rain. I admit I doubted the wisdom of your journey until then.”
Jasper inclined his head and wished the man would get to the point. Whatever was coming was going to be bad, but he wanted to know.
The Bastion picked a flat package up from the table beside his chair and handed it to Jasper. “Taquar Sardonyx has escaped and killed Highlord Iani.”
In shock, Jasper took the letters. Amberlyn. “That’s—that’s not possible,” he stuttered. Escaped? Taquar couldn’t escape, not without knowing how…
Oh, withering hells. Amberlyn! Taquar has her? He felt ice through his veins as the horror of the thought spread. Terelle grasped his hand, held it tight.
Pale-faced, she whispered, “My painting failed?”
“It happened not long after your departure. Lord Laisa sent a letter wh
ich just missed ye. It’s in this packet. Other people have written since, some to me, some to ye. The last is the one from Lord Kaneth Carnelian; it arrived only a few days ago.”
He looked up at Messenjer. “Get someone to be showing them to their rooms, Mez. Lord Jasper will need time alone to read these.”
Grim-faced, boiling to read whatever was in the letters he carried, yet dreading the moment, Jasper strode behind the silent Messenjer, Terelle equally silent at his side, holding his hand tight.
“I’ve asked the servants to prepare a bath, clean clothes and a meal,” Messenjer said as he showed them their rooms, side by side. “If there is anything ye need, just ask.”
Jasper nodded and entered his room, untying the cord around the packet to extract the separate letters inside, six of them. Terelle disappeared with Messenjer and Jasper hardly noticed. He sat on the bed, leafing through the sheets of paper. From Breccia there was a letter each from Laisa, Senya and Seneschal Chandler; from Scarcleft there was one from Taquar, and from the Red Quarter there was one each from Kaneth and Ryka. For a moment he dithered between them, his hands trembling, bile bitter in his gorge.
In the end, he opened Laisa’s first.
Hurriedly, he skimmed her neat concise writing, skipping the inessential to hunt out the essence.
… Regrettably I decided that, owing to the uncertain nature of your powers and the disappearance of Terelle, the future of the Quartern would be better served if Taquar was free. If Terelle doesn’t return, you can work with him to produce storms—serving only the Scarpen. That way, neither of you will be worked to exhaustion.
Terelle entered the room and closed the door. “Read it to me,” she said.
“From Laisa. And therefore I found the painting of Taquar’s prison that Terelle left behind. Using that picture, I located the place and released him. You were both clever and yet careless, Jasper, and you underestimated me.
“Sadly, Iani was killed—” Stricken, he raised his head to look at her. “Oh waterless hells. It’s true!” The sheet of parchment shook in his hand. Iani suffered so much in his life. How could they? And I wasn’t there. I didn’t hide the painting well enough. But we needed to keep it. And Terelle’s never been sure what would happen if we destroyed a painting before it became real anyway… “The withering bastards. The withering bastards. I’ll kill them, I swear I will.”