The Exile and the Sorcerer

by Jane Fletcher

  A hatch gave access to the narrow galley, where a row of bunks disappeared into the gloom. Most had already been claimed and had belongings strewn across. Tevi picked a free one on the top row and dumped her rucksack on the pillow. It was her only baggage apart from a small satchel at her waist. The contents were her purported reason for travelling to Ekranos. Mercenaries were often employed for courier duties. The guild gave some assurance of their honesty, and they were able to defend themselves, should anyone try to misappropriate the items.

  Before returning topside, Tevi looked around at the passenger accommodation. The space was cramped to the point of claustrophobia. The only light came from the hatch. She hoped they would have good weather, since being cooped up with over twenty others did not promise to be much fun.

  The scene on deck was unchanged. The landward side was a bustle of activity as the last preparations were made. Tevi found a seat out of the crew’s way and took stock of her fellow passengers. One caught her attention, as clearly was his intent. The man was an elderly official from the Guild of Goldsmiths and evidently considered himself a person of great importance. To make everyone within earshot aware of this, he was standing in the middle of the deck, talking loudly at some unfortunate. His conversation amounted to variations on the theme that he had one of the two private cabins at the front of the ship. Tevi was delighted to learn this. The idea of being stuck with the goldsmith in the confined passenger galley did not bear thinking about.

  Traders formed the majority of the passengers. A child from one party wandered over. His eyes fixed on Klara.

  “You’ve got a bird on your shoulder,” the boy said earnestly, as if the fact might have escaped Tevi’s notice. “Is it a pet?”

  “Sort of. Her name’s Klara.”

  A woman detached herself from the group of traders—the boy’s mother, judging from her age and the supervisory watch she kept on the child. She did not appear concerned about his talking to a mercenary, and rather than dragging him away, settled down and introduced herself.

  “Well met, citizen. I’m Etta.” The customary Protectorate greeting was delivered at a noticeably faster rate than normal. “My partner and I are traders, specialising in spices. Are you travelling with us?”

  “Well met, citizen. Er...yes. My name’s Tevi. I’m from the mercenaries.”

  “I could tell by your tattoos.” Etta was a small dark woman who gave the impression that she was going at double speed. She continued without a pause. “We’re based in Talimide. How far are you going?”

  “To Ekranos.”

  “So are we, and beyond, through the Straits of Perithia to the eastern ocean. The Sea Eagle isn’t going that far, so we’ll have to change ships. I’m hoping we’ll have a few days in Ekranos. Have you been there before?”

  “No.” Tevi squeezed in her answer.

  “It’s a nice town; you’ll like it. My partner comes from there. We’ll stop off and leave the youngster with his grandparents. He was going to stay with my partner’s sister, who owns a farm south of town. She’s a nice woman, but we’re worried about her. Her health has been playing up. Mind you, it’s the best place to be ill, with the school of herbalism on the doorstep. My cousin...”

  Once Etta got going, there was no stopping her. Over the next ten minutes, Tevi learnt an awful lot about her family, friends, and their assorted idiosyncrasies. Etta spoke with a lilting accent and an enthusiasm that made it sound, if not exciting, then at least cheerful. It would soon get tiring, but given the choice between Etta and the goldsmith, there was no question whose company Tevi would choose.

  By the time Etta got to her aunt’s best friend, the cargo was loaded and preparations were complete, but the crew were still obviously waiting for something. The captain had come onto deck and was pacing impatiently in between pauses to scan the quay.

  “Do you know what we’re waiting for?” Etta broke off her recital.

  “Could be anything.” Actually, Tevi could make a good guess, but the plans, as far as they had been revealed to her, involved acting as if she and Jemeryl had no knowledge of each other until they met aboard ship.

  “Probably the occupant of the other private cabin,” Etta speculated. “Looks like someone important. I hope they’re more fun than...” She indicated the goldsmith with a scowl.

  At that moment, a disturbance broke out on the dockside. The captain rushed to the top of the gangplank. Several traders wandered to the railing, and the crew paused in their work. Tevi was glad that no one was watching her as she tried to appear nonchalant. Acting was not one of her skills. Fortunately, Etta’s attention was completely taken with the sight of Jemeryl being welcomed aboard and escorted to her cabin.

  The crew prepared to cast off.

  Etta turned back. “A sorcerer. That’ll put Master Goldsmith’s nose out of joint. Mind you, sorcerers can be odd. The last time I was on a ship with one, he looked terrified the entire trip. Apparently, he was a seer. It was worrying. You kept wondering, ‘What does he know?’ Every time I saw a black cloud on the horizon, I thought, ‘That’s it; we’re going down in a storm.’ However, it was one of the smoothest voyages I’ve ever been on. Odd. But someone told me seers can be a bit...” She paused, searching for a word.

  “Sensitive?” Tevi suggested, trying not to laugh.

  *

  Four days out of Lyremouth, the Sea Eagle was making good progress. A steady wind filled the sails. Tevi leaned over the bow and watched the hull slice through the water, happy to feel the motion of the sea under her feet and the roll of the deck. A floating strand of seaweed was caught by the bow wave. It glistened and twisted in the surf and then was sucked under the glassy surface.

  Footsteps made Tevi look over her shoulder. Jemeryl had climbed onto the foredeck and was casually strolling in her direction. Tevi pushed away from the rail and straightened.

  “Good morning, ma’am.” Tevi spoke respectfully. So far, they had scarcely acknowledged each other, making a show of being strangers.

  Jemeryl’s eyebrows rose at the formal greeting. A hint of a grin danced mischievously on her lips. “Good morning, citizen.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Now there’s a question.” Jemeryl looked around, including the rigging overhead. No one was within earshot. “But we’d better take things in order. I’m thinking it’s time for us to get acquainted.”

  “That’s fine by me.”

  In fact, it was better than fine. The separation was having bad effects on Tevi’s sleep. Each night, she found herself lying awake in her bunk and battling the temptation to try slipping into Jemeryl’s cabin without being noticed. When she finally did drift off, Jemeryl played a prominent part in her dreams. Tevi was worried that she would call out in her sleep and wake her fellow passengers. Giving the likely content of any such outburst, there would be little chance of persuading anyone that she had been suffering from nightmares.

  The ship’s chicken coop was bolted to the foredeck. The wooden structure resembled a rabbit hutch. Its three inhabitants provided the captain and a favoured few with the luxury of fresh eggs. Their clucking was incongruous against the screech of seagulls. Jemeryl took a seat on the roof, looking out to sea, and indicated that Tevi should join her. Klara perched on the railing facing them.

  “It’s all right; we can talk. Klara will let me know if anyone comes near,” Jemeryl said.

  Tevi let out a small sigh. “Good. How have you been? I heard you weren’t well yesterday. Seasickness?”

  “I was fine. It was just an excuse to avoid eating in the captain’s cabin.”

  “Isn’t the cooking any good?”

  “Oh, first-rate for aboard ship. It’s the goldsmith that gives me indigestion. He manages to simultaneously grovel and boast.”

  Tevi laughed softly. “The problems that come with privilege.”

  “I’ve tried sarcasm to shut him up. I might have to move on to thinly veiled threats. How have you been?”

>   “Fine. But I miss being able to talk to you.”

  “Mmmm. Same here.” Jemeryl’s voice was soft. “And there’s a whole list of other things I like to do with you that I’m missing as well.”

  Tevi glanced at Jemeryl. As their eyes caught, she felt her stomach flip over. She turned back quickly to the sea, trying to compose her face, just in case anyone else might wander by. She suspected that her expression would not be hard to read.

  Despite looking away, her thoughts stayed with Jemeryl. “My guild master didn’t want me to come with you. He thought it was unsafe for me. But I couldn’t bear to be parted from you.”

  “Some of the Coven leaders wanted to stop you coming to Ekranos as well.”

  “I’m guessing that they weren’t worried about my safety.”

  “Not directly. They are more concerned with the reputation of the Coven.”

  Tevi smiled. “Do you know what would completely amaze everyone back on my home island?”

  “That you really are going after the chalice?”

  “No. That with all the people unhappy about us being together, not one is concerned that we’re both women.”

  “Well, it isn’t exactly relevant to anything.”

  “That’s not the way my people would see it.” Tevi’s eyes lost their focus as her thoughts drifted back to the islands and her departure from them. She had left with no idea of where she was going and no hope for the future, not even any idea of what future was possible. She would not have believed that, just a year later, she would have found a place for herself in the form of a guild that valued her as a warrior. Most of all she could not have dared dream that she would meet someone like Jemeryl. Now, whatever the future held, she had the hope that she would not be facing it alone.

  Her thought moved on. “After we get the chalice. Do you think they will try to separate us again?”

  “Maybe. They won’t succeed.” Jemeryl turned to fix her eyes on Tevi. “We’re together for life. Nothing but death will part us.”

  “Can you be certain?”

  “Yes.” Jemeryl gave a wry smile. “And far more certain than I am that we’ll find the chalice.”

  Tevi shrugged. “Who cares? The chalice isn’t important to me. It never has been. I don’t even—”

  She was cut short by a hissed whisper. “Someone’s coming.” Raising her voice, Jemeryl continued, “Was it difficult to train the magpie?”

  “Er...I got Klara from a friend when she was already tame.” Tevi picked up on the cue.

  “That was kind, to give her to you.”

  “It was a very good friend.”

  Jemeryl stood. “It’s been nice talking to you. We must”—her face shifted through a range of expressions—“talk again.” She sauntered away.

  “Good morning, ma’am.” The voice belonged to Etta.

  Even before Jemeryl’s footsteps had faded, her place on the chicken coop was taken by the talkative trader.

  “She seems very pleasant, for a sorcerer.”

  Tevi made a noncommittal sound.

  “You were having quite a cosy chat. I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Etta’s tone was hinting at something.

  “We were just talking.”

  Etta was silent—a rare enough occurrence to make Tevi look at her.

  “What is it?”

  “I suppose she was the one who came over to talk to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think she’s nice?” Etta definitely had something in mind.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well...a couple of times now, I’ve noticed her watching you. At first, I thought it might be trouble. I didn’t know if I should warn you. But then, I thought, ‘Aha. I know what that look means.’ Now, I don’t know how you feel about sorcerers. I mean, I think they’re human like anyone else, but I know they give some people the creeps. One of my uncle’s neighbours is a gardener at the school, and she says—”

  “You think what?” Tevi interrupted, confused.

  “Sorry, I’m rambling. Getting back to what I was saying, she’s definitely got her eye on you. I think she likes you.” The trader smiled slyly and nudged Tevi with her elbow. “I’d say if you’re interested, play your cards right, and you’re in with a chance.”

  *

  Another two days, and Etta was not alone in speculating. Tevi was beset by advice from passengers and crew alike. There was little in the way of entertainment on the ship. Gossip was the main pastime, but opinion was sharply divided. Few expressed any great dislike of Jemeryl personally. Many more revealed a wariness of the Coven and felt that Tevi would be ill treated. “You can’t trust sorcerers. They just use folk” and “Stick with your own” were typical remarks. Etta, with her enthusiasm, was in a minority.

  Late one evening, Tevi was sitting on deck, playing dice with a group of passengers, when the door to Jemeryl’s cabin opened. The sorcerer wandered across to the side of the ship and leaned on the railing with the apparent intention of watching the sunset. Tevi was aware that a lot of people were looking in her own direction, and it was not because they were waiting for her to throw the dice.

  Unsubtle as ever, Etta dug her in the ribs. “Go on. Talk to her.”

  The anticipation on the faces about her was more than Tevi could take. She stood up, brushed the dust and rope fibres from her clothes, and strolled over to Jemeryl’s side. A glance back confirmed that absolutely nobody was minding their own business. Etta’s young son scrambled to his feet and bounced forward as if to join them. His mother grabbed his jerkin and dragged him back. At the same time, she sent an encouraging gesture to Tevi that was probably meant to be discreet.

  Sighing, Tevi rested her elbows on the rail and turned her gaze out to sea.

  “How are things?” Jemeryl asked.

  “A strain.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not so bad for you. I’ve got everyone on board giving me suggestions about how to deal with you.”

  “And what are the suggestions?” Jemeryl sounded amused.

  “Most think I should avoid you, though they aren’t too specific how I do it on a ship this size.”

  “You find it upsetting?”

  “Yes.” Tevi’s frown deepened. “I don’t understand people in the Protectorate. Even Marith, who was a really nice, sensible woman, talked about sorcerers as if you’re some bizarre monstrosity. I’ve known people to credit more human emotions to their dogs than some on this ship do to you. They can’t seem to see...” Her voice faded away.

  “I think I know what you mean, but I’ve grown up with it, so I take most of it for granted.” Jemeryl paused. “I wasn’t popular when I was a child, back in my home village. It’s the same for all sorcerers. The other children knew I was different. Some tried to pick on me. They soon learned not to, but even when they weren’t being deliberately unpleasant, I was still isolated. Even the adults were very polite and very distant. As I got older and my powers developed, they started to treat me like...like a sorcerer. Probably wise. Children aren’t good at restraining their tempers. We learn a lot about self-control at the Coven.” Her lips shifted into a rueful smile. “It cuts down on the number of talking frogs around.”

  “A shame. I could nominate a few on board who’d be better as frogs.” Tevi was not sure herself how much she was joking.

  The two of them stood in silence before Jemeryl asked, “Would people be appalled if we made it obvious we were lovers?”

  Tevi weighed it up. “Maybe a quarter would be, and there’s an equal-size group who’d think it perfectly all right.”

  “And the others?”

  “They’d claim to be against it, but privately they’d be delighted to have something exciting to gossip about.”

  “Perhaps we should give them their chance to be shocked.”

  Deliberately, Jemeryl slid along the railing so their shoulders touched. She then slowly moved her arm to encircle Tevi’s waist.

  Tevi half-expected
a mixed chorus of gasps, boos, and cheers from the deck behind them. She put her own arm around Jemeryl’s shoulders and pulled her close. A smile grew on Tevi’s lips as the familiar feeling of total contentment washed her previous irritation away, and now at least they could go to Jemeryl’s cabin and shut out the rest of the world for a while.

  She was about to move away from the railing, when her eyes caught sight of an island, out on the horizon. For a second, her thoughts darted to Storenseg, but without longing. She realised that, even if the chance was offered to her, she had no desire to go back. The island was not home to her; she had outgrown it. Which meant, she guessed as she and Jemeryl left the deck, that in her heart, she was an exile no longer.

  Appendix

  The Legend of the True-Sighted Warrior

  As Told By Villagers On The Eastern Flank Of Whitfell Spur

  Once upon a time, there was a young and ambitious sorcerer who lived in a mighty castle in a valley on the east of Whitfell Spur. She was very gifted and adept in the magic arts and she was very beautiful, but she was also very reckless, for she had not yet learnt to temper her knowledge with wisdom. In her folly, she summoned a demon from the netherworld and tried to bind it to do her will.

  At first, the demon was held by the power of the sorcerer’s magic, and it taught her much that was arcane and wondrous to human ears. But the demon was ancient and well schooled in treachery and malice, and the young sorcerer was no match for its cunning.

  One day the demon retrieved a mirror from the shadow-lands. “Look into this, my mistress,” it said, “and you will learn much that has been hidden from mortal eyes. For with this mirror you may see all that has been, or is now, or is yet to be.”

  Eagerly the young sorcerer grasped the mirror and stared into its depths. Thus was she ensnared, for the demon lied, and there were no secrets to be seen. Rather, the life was sucked from her by evil enchantment and held in the mirror, and her body was turned to stone.