Sending

by Carmody Isobelle

  ‘His successor maybe,’ I murmured. ‘The envoy offered coin for the ore and the slaves?’

  ‘They paid in gold coin sometimes, but more often in pearls for the ore, but when the order was given for the slaves, the payment was to be made in machines,’ Wila said.

  ‘Machines?’ I echoed, wondering if I had heard her aright.

  ‘I thought that would interest you,’ Sarn said with a faint smile. ‘It is never bluntly and simply said in any dream, but there is no doubt that the White-faced Lords possess and use Beforetime machines and devices.’

  ‘If this is true it may be that their civilisation was not so completely devastated by the Great White as other places,’ I said, thinking of Jacob’s dream of a city that had survived the fall of the Beforetime.

  ‘It may only be Red Land rumour-mongering,’ Wila put in, giving Sarn a look that told me she disputed the other woman’s conclusions.

  ‘It may,’ Sarn agreed imperturbably. ‘Yet we know that the White-faced Lord’s envoys brought a machine to the Red Land to refine the ore they buy. Slaves work it, but they are overseen by a White-faced Lord. We can surmise from this that either the White-faced Lords wish to keep the workings of their machine secret or, more likely, the skill required to understand them is beyond the slavemasters. A second proof of the White-faced Lords’ mastery of machines are the weaponmachines fitted in the slavemasters’ ships. These undoubtedly came from the land of the White-faced Lords and they may have been given as initial sweeteners.’

  ‘Wait, did you say that one of the White-faced Lords travels to the Red Land to oversee the ore-refining machine?’

  ‘He remains in the Red Land,’ Sarn said. ‘But there is another thing. Those weapons aboard the slavemasters’ ships sound similar enough to those on Salamander’s Black Ship for us to assume that they, also, came originally from the land of the White-faced Lords.’

  ‘Was it not the height of stupidity for these White-faced Lords to give weapons to the slavemasters?’ I marvelled. ‘How did they know the weapons would not be used against their own ships?’

  ‘A question Matthew also asked in one of the dreams,’ Wila said. ‘The answer he got was that there are even more deadly weapons aboard their own ships. One envoy is said to have demonstrated a weapon that caused the sea to boil, though whoever told Matthew only saw this in the sleeping mind of a slavemaster, so we cannot be sure if it is true.’

  ‘What need have these Lords of an army of slaves if they have such weapons at their disposal?’ I asked.

  ‘It may be that these shipboard weapons are the only kind they possess. Or maybe they have some taboo against using the weapons in their own land. It is impossible to know. According to the information Matthew has garnered, the order for the slave army originated with the brother of the ruler of the White-faced Lords. The slave army is intended as a gift for him to use against a troublesome people whose land borders that of the White-faced Lords.’

  ‘I am amazed by how much information you have managed to glean about the White-faced Lords from dreams about Matthew,’ I said.

  Wila shrugged. ‘It is because Matthew himself has been striving to learn all he can of them. He would have got a lot more information if he had been able to look into the thoughts of the White-faced Lord who remains in the Red Land, but it seems the man wears a face paint that inhibits Talent and keeps very much apart from the slavemasters.’

  ‘Face paint?’ I repeated.

  She nodded. ‘Apparently it is the custom for the ruling class in the land of the White-faced Lords to wear masks to prevent their facial expressions revealing anything of their thoughts or feelings, because they value impassivity almost as highly as honour. But those with superior self-control eschew the masks and use paint, trusting muscle control to hide their expressions.’

  ‘Do you think this paint is deliberately used to inhibit Talent?’ I asked.

  ‘So far as Matthew has been able to learn, the White-faced Lords are ignorant of Talents,’ Wila answered. ‘Matthew thinks that it is just a coincidence that the paint used to mask their faces contains some ingredient that blocks Misfit Talents.’

  I found myself wondering very much about these White-faced Lords.

  As a child I had not thought that there were any people left on the Earth save for those who dwelt in the Land, but year by year I had learned more about the world. I learned of Sador and of the decaying Gadfian settlements not far from the desert lands, and then of the Red Land and the more distant thriving Gadfian settlement that had spawned the slavemaster horde. In addition there were stories of other people from lands too distant or settlements too small for me to form any clear picture of their location in relation to the Land; and now there was the land of the White-faced Lords where they understood and used weaponmachines.

  ‘Are Salamander, the White-faced Lords and the Gadfian slavemasters the only ones who travel to the Red Land?’ I asked.

  ‘These days they are,’ Sarn said. ‘It seems a lot of small ships used to travel from settlements in lands on the other side of the Clouded Sea to visit the Red Land. Apparently the Red Queens were traditionally hospitable to visitors. But after the Gadfians took over, they regarded any ship as an easy source of slaves. I suppose that after a time when those who set out for the Red Land did not return, people from those other places began to avoid it.’

  ‘That is what I feared,’ I muttered, abandoning a half-formed notion of suggesting to Rushton and the others that our four ships land at the Red Land separately, and pretend to be from somewhere other than the Land, in case Ariel had them keeping watch for us. That would only have worked if there was plenty of shipping putting in at the Red Land.

  At least it was unlikely that the slavemasters would regard four ships as dangerous enough to be attacked outright, and we might avoid deaths or injuries by asking for a parley. This would enable us to get Dragon safely ashore, though if Ariel knew about her and had warned the slavemasters, there was a real risk that she would simply be killed to prevent her causing a revolution.

  Another thought occurred to me. ‘We have assumed that the slavemasters will come here because they can’t fill the White-faced Lords’ order in time, but wouldn’t they simply ask for more time?’

  ‘They might do if they were dealing with anyone else,’ Sarn said. ‘Except the White-faced Lords regard any failure to fulfil a contract as an offence that requires punishment. The recorded dreams show an older Redlander telling Matthew of a mine collapse that meant the ore for the White-faced Lords could not be produced in time. This was before the refining machine was brought to the Red Land. The White-faced Lord aboard the ship that came for the ore announced he would destroy all of the slavemasters’ ships. Luckily for the slavemasters, there was a child slave which the White-faced Lord had wanted to buy the year before and had been refused because it was the slavemaster’s own son. The child and its mother were offered to the White-faced Lord as an apology, and the ore that year was given as a gift. The White-faced Lord accepted only because he deemed that the barbarian slavemasters had not hitherto understood the seriousness of a contract made with a White-faced Lord. But in future, ignorance would be no excuse. As you can imagine, the failure to honour an agreement to provide a slave army would be seen as a far greater breach of contract.’

  I nodded. ‘If the destruction of all ships would be the least of their punishments, it is no wonder the slavemasters would prefer to mount an invasion rather than admitting they have failed to fulfil the contract. But even if the slavemasters were to learn this very day that there would be no more slaves coming from the Land, and boarded their ships at once to come here and make war on us, they could hardly manage to secure a victory, round up all the slaves they need and return to the Red Land in less than a sixmonth. By then, would not the White-faced Lords have returned for their army?’

  ‘The journey would take them less time than it will take our ships, because the slavemasters have devices that would enable them to cross the
open sea,’ Wila said. ‘Nor have we been able to establish clearly how much time they have to fulfil their contract. But the fact that Maryon and this Sadorian seer insist our ships must set off very soon if we would avoid an invasion suggests the slavemasters would set off within a threemonth to come here, if our ships did not arrive to prevent it.’

  I folded my arms, calculating. ‘So they might have, what, seven or eight months to fulfil their contract?’

  ‘I would guess closer to a year and it may be longer,’ Sarn said.

  ‘How do you think these White-faced Lords will react to the freeing of the Red Land,’ I asked.

  ‘It is hard to tell,’ Tomash said. ‘Although the White-faced Lords are rigid and punitive, they are fanatical about honour and it would hardly be honourable of them to hold the Redlanders to account for a contract broken by the slavemasters. What might be a problem is if they regard themselves as aligned with the slavemasters. In that case their honour will require them to retaliate against the Redlanders, and there is little doubt that they would crush them, given that their ships will be armed with weaponmachines.’

  My own thoughts switched to Ariel, for while he might want to warn the slavemasters about us, it had just struck me that he would not want to do anything that would see me slain since, by his own reckoning, he needed me. Whether or not he knew of the signs and messages Cassy had left for me, he certainly knew that I had or would have the means to gain access to Sentinel. Indeed, he was likely to contrive to have me delivered into his hands if he could manage it. Dragon, too, if he had foreseen that she had information that would enable him to get to Sentinel.

  I thought of what Maryon had said about certain people being keystones, and how they were like two heavy stones in a blanket that could hardly avoid coming together, and suppressed a shudder at the thought of Dragon falling into Ariel’s hands.

  Wila said, ‘I think the key to dealing with the White-faced Lords is to negotiate with the one that dwells in the Red Land. As long as all care is taken to do no harm to the refining machinery or to him during the uprising, the Redlanders can ask him to speak on their behalf to the other White-faced Lords when they arrive. At the worst, they can divest him of his paint and mask and you can coerce him.’

  ‘I have just had a thought!’ Tomash said. ‘We have always wondered how Salamander and Ariel managed to make contact with the slavemasters in the first place, and how they found their way to the Red Land, but what if they originally met one of the slavemasters at the Spit? Ariel could have coerced directions for crossing the Clouded Sea from him! He could even have coerced the slavemaster into leading them across the Clouded Sea and introducing them to the other slavemasters on some pretext. All Ariel would need was to be near them and he could have coerced whomever he wanted, just as he did with the inner cadre of the Herder Faction. He could even have made the White-faced Lords’ envoy give Salamander those weapons he has on the Black Ship.’

  ‘I never read anything in the dream-books to suggest Salamander or Ariel had any dealings with the White-faced Lords, though I suppose they must have met the one who stays there to supervise the refining process,’ Wila said.

  Sarn said rather dreamily, ‘I have always wondered about Salamander and what he wants. After slaving and raiding ships for so many years, he must be wealthy beyond the wishful dreams of ordinary men and women, yet still he slaves. Can he truly want more and ever more wealth?’

  Tomash said, ‘Maybe he gets the same nasty pleasure as Ariel does out of causing pain to other living things. That is an appetite slaving could feed very well.’

  ‘I think we would know what Salamander wants if we knew why he hides his face,’ Wila murmured.

  ‘The White-faced Lords would probably like him if ever they met him, because he wears a mask, too,’ Tomash said.

  I stood up and turned my back to the fire to look at them. ‘Perhaps you have hit upon the perfect solution for crossing the Clouded Sea, Tomash,’ I said. ‘Since we are to go to the Spit, why not wait there until one of the slavemasters weighs anchor and coerce him into leading us across the Clouded Sea? Dragon and I could actually move to the slavemaster’s ship and get ashore before anyone realises it. If Dragon can rouse up her people, the slavemasters would then have too much on their hands to worry about four ships sailing in. We will make a point of suggesting it to the guildmerge later today.’

  ‘I heard that you and Dragon were to travel with the expedition, but I am afraid that everyone is so focused on the final destination that they are underestimating the difficulties you will face at the Spit,’ Sarn said drily. ‘Those who travel there are slave traders first and foremost, whether or not they have other goods to trade. If you want to avoid being seen as potential slaves, you will have to bring your own goods to offer.’

  ‘I am assuming that those of us who are not shipfolk will pretend to be slaves. In fact that might work perfectly if we coerce a slavemaster, since we can make sure he buys us!’

  ‘If a slavemaster happens to come in while you are there,’ Sarn said. ‘And you should not discount the difficulties of the journey from here to the Spit. Once the weather worsens, it will be a rough passage. Remember that Maryon spoke of four ships setting out for the Red Land, not of four ships arriving there safely.’

  ‘I do not make light of any of it, Sarn, but truly there is little we can do about the journey to the Spit, or across the Clouded Sea, for we will all be in the hands of the shipfolk. Do we know how long it will take to make that final crossing?’

  Tomash answered. ‘Matthew mentions in one dream that it took Salamander three days in calm seas, so far as he could tell from inside the hold.’

  ‘All right, let’s move on to what you know of the Red Land,’ I said.

  Sarn riffled through her papers. ‘We have prepared a map, based on shipfolks’ maps and what we have gleaned from dreams, but it is freshly inked so we could not bring it up here without damaging it. I can describe it, however.’

  I gestured for her to go on.

  ‘In the approach from the ocean, the Red City, which seems also to be the only city in the Red Land, is hidden behind what appear to be high cliffs of reddish stone, so that the coast seems unassailable. But there is a narrow channel cut through them that opens into a vast, tranquil bay. From that side, one can see that the cliffs are in fact a great natural wall of stone rising up around the margin of the Red Land all along the Clouded Sea. That is the way our ships will have to come. The Red City sprawls all about the bay and, given that the entire population of the Red Land dwells there, it is many times larger than any Land city. Its streets are a labyrinth of curves and spirals and the buildings are largely of red stone. There are few green or verdant places, though there is apparently plenty of fresh water. It sounds as if the settlement was a good deal more fertile in the time of the Red Queen. Matthew speculates that this is because the slavemasters dwell in a place where there is little greenery and so they do not regard plants as anything but fodder or medicine.’

  The Red City being conjured up for me bore little resemblance to the city I had seen in Dragon’s dreams, save for the redness of the stone used for building. Dragon had dreamed of a palace and a garden atop a hill, for one, though the Red City lay on flat terrain, but dreams tended always to portray real things as they felt rather than as they truly were. It was not surprising that Dragon had lifted her beloved mother and her home to the top of a hill, nor that she would remember her city as being gracious and beautiful.

  ‘What lies beyond the Red City?’ I asked.

  ‘A dry stony plain girdled by a broken arc of rocky hills. The mines are within these hills. There used only to be a couple of them, but once the refining machine was set up, the demand for ore increased, leading to a whole series of mines being sunk. Beyond the hills is a great plain split here and there by enormous fissures. Beyond that is an enormous sandy desert and beyond that, barely visible, is a range of mountains. Beyond are said to be more desert lands. The Red Land
is vast but the whole of it is barren of water save for the area around the Red City, which is built on a great number of springs.’

  ‘No wonder they all live there,’ I said. ‘Do we know where the slaves are quartered within the settlement? And what of the refining machine and the dwelling place of the White-faced Lord who tends it?’

  ‘I do not know where the White-faced Lord dwells, but the map we have created shows the location of the ore-refining shed. As for the slave quarters, all slaves, whether they are enslaved Redlanders or foreign slaves, have their own dwellings within certain regions of the city, and within them they are relatively free, though no one may venture elsewhere without the permission of one of the slavemasters. The slaves come each day to their place of work even as a free person might do, save that they have no choice in what they do and they receive no payment.’

  ‘A strange kind of slavery,’ I mused. ‘But how are they fed and clothed?’

  ‘Mostly they tend to their own needs,’ Sarn said. ‘They have garden plots where they grow food and the slaves have various skills such as weaving, and barter amongst themselves for the things they need. I think it had to be this way because there are ten times as many slaves as slavemasters. Indeed, rather than seeing them as slaves in the traditional sense, it might be better to regard them as a people ruled harshly by a small powerful upper class of despotic and privileged masters who demand complete obedience and submissiveness. So long as people perform their tasks, and obey all rules, they may otherwise do as they will. Of course there are many constraints and rules and the penalties for transgression are severe, but it may be that this limited freedom is the reason for the passivity of the Redlanders.’

  ‘That or the knowledge that anyone who gives trouble is sentenced to labour in a mine hard by the lair of a mutant beast or sent to the Spit to be sold on,’ Wila added.