Western Shore ac-3

by Juliet E. McKenna

  Kheda ate some more of his fish. 'What do you mean?'

  'I've already told you. The puzzles of this place are not about magic, they're about power.' Velindre continued

  eating. 'Naldeth, of all the mages I know, understands only too well what it's like to be utterly at the mercy of someone who is more than happy to abuse all the power within his reach.'

  'You mean this pirate who cost him his leg?' Kheda prodded at the yellowish-grey pulp underneath his own fish.

  'Exactly.' Velindre scraped down to the leathery outer skin of the leaf. 'He wouldn't take that dragon's power, not if the price was abusing these people for the beast's convenience. He didn't only lose his leg when those pirates captured him. He saw a wholly innocent friend clubbed to death.' Her gaze strayed towards the scorched black earth where no trace of the feather-crowned woman now remained.

  'You thought other mages you might have brought on this voyage would have succumbed.' Kheda spoke his thoughts aloud without thinking. 'Dev would certainly have been looking for his own best advantage in such a situation.'

  'Perhaps. Dev could be quite vile when the mood took him. Mages are just men and women like every Archipelagan or barbarian.' Velindre fixed him with a cold glare. 'Good-hearted or weak-willed and everything in between. Would every Aldabreshi you know behave with impeccable restraint and decorum if they were suddenly raised to a warlord's rank and privilege?'

  'It's hardly the same.' Kheda wasn't about to be deterred from his questions. 'Do these wild mages command these dragons or do the dragons command the mages?'

  'I don't think it's that simple,' Velindre said slowly. 'Or that complex, if you prefer. The dragons were drawn here by the confluences of elemental power. That's the key to this place, Kheda. Once the dragons arrived, they found easy prey in these people.' She gazed around at

  the savages in their crude garb with their mud-caked hair. 'Only with all the raw elemental power hereabouts, amplified through a dragon's aura, any mageborn among these savages would have found the magic to fight back out of sheer instinct. Using magic isn't the difficult part of being mageborn, it's controlling the magic before it kills you or you cause some catastrophe. That's why Hadrumal was founded, to save mageborn from themselves and from mobs who would stone them to death to be rid of them.'

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 'But as we've seen, these dragons here don't necessarily want to fight each other to the death, despite what Azazir told me about the dragons of legend up in the mountains of the northern mainland. And however it happened, I think these dragons are content not to fight the mageborn either, as long as the mageborn don't stop them eating the lesser folk. Dragons aren't stupid, Kheda. Once one had learned how to live an easy life with easy prey, the rest would soon have copied it.'

  'Like a jungle cat preying on villagers who can't run as far and as fast as deer,' the warlord said slowly. 'Where there's one man-eater, others will follow, not least because the mother will teach her kits the same tricks.'

  Which is why a warlord will hunt down every spotted cat on an isle once one has turned man-eater. He'1l skin the carcasses and nail the hides on the gates of his residence. Which is, as it happens, what we also customarily do with wizards.

  Velindre was staring up into the cloudless sky, unblinking. 'That dragon I made from the air, the one that seized its chance for life by killing the sky dragon, it had no thought of preying on these people. All it wanted to do was fly after the most enticing coils of wind and weather. That sea dragon that we saw had no notion of coming ashore, not with plenty of fish in the sea for it to chase

  and eat. The dragons who prey on these people only do it because that's doubtless what they've learned from those who've gone before them. They're not responsible for the choices these wild mageborn have made, whether that be just saving themselves and their allies by offering up captives and slain enemies, or the evil of deliberately feeding anyone useless or burdensome to a dragon.' She forestalled any comment Kheda might have made. 'And that choice didn't arise from any inherent evil in the magic of this place either.'

  'If mageborn have all this power, why do these people live like this?' Kheda glowered as he surveyed the dirty, inadequately clad savages. 'Even the poorest islands in the most despoiled domains in the Archipelago live better.'

  Velindre raised her brows at him. 'If you had Naldeth's abilities to shape the earth, just for a little while, could you make me a model of a Soluran keep and curtain wall?'

  'I don't know what one of those might be.' As Kheda frowned, he realised he had fallen into her trap.

  'Do you think these people know any better way to live? Magecraft is a tool.' Velindre waved her smeary blade to and fro at Kheda. 'Of itself, it's no more good or evil than this dagger, which can cut my food or cut your throat. What you do with magic depends on what you know and what you're taught.'

  'Perhaps.' Kheda looked around the feeble excuse for a village. 'But as far as I can see, it's still these dragons and the rule of these wizards that keeps these people wretched.'

  'If you can suggest any way to improve their lot, I'll be interested to hear it.' Velindre rose to her feet and went over to the cook pit again.

  Kheda contemplated the spiny leaf in his hands and realised with some surprise that he had eaten nearly all the fish. He still had no appetite for the greyish-yellow

  pulp. Seeing a small child hovering hopefully, he smiled encouragingly and held out the soggy remnants to her.

  The little girl approached, hesitantly at first, then snatched the fat, fleshy leaf from Kheda and immediately buried her face in it.

  She eats like an animal. Is that because she is no more than an animal? These people don't farm any crops. They hunt, but matias hunt together, to take on snakes too big for one to tackle alone. Loals use sticks or stones to smash stubborn nuts and they fight among themselves in bands led by the strongest. That doesn 't make them men. But loals or matias couldn 't have painted that cave.

  The little girl looked up, ecstatic, her mouth and chin smeared with leaf pulp and fragments of fish. Too young to have her curly black hair caked with mud or wax to hold the rough gems that might buy her life from a dragon, she could have been an Aldabreshin child. The sweetness of her smile pierced Kheda as unbidden memories of his lost daughters assailed him.

  Does this little one live like an animal because she knows no better? Could these people drag themselves out of filth and ignorance if their lives weren't brutalised by this accursed alliance between mageborn and dragons that makes them little more than geese penned for the slaughter?

  Kheda watched Velindre standing by the fire pit and trying to convey her appreciation of the food to the women there with wordless gestures. The women were smiling tentatively. Kheda saw that the old woman whom they had first encountered was among them, looking more animated than he had yet seen her.

  Emboldened, the old woman reached out to touch Velindre's golden hair. The magewoman stiffened for a moment, then bowed her head meekly. The other women laughed and several did the same. Velindre bore their curiosity with commendable patience. One of the other

  savage women rubbed the cotton of the magewoman's sleeve between finger and thumb, her expression marvelling.

  Kheda got to his feet and walked past the fire pit and through the scatter of rough huts. He noted cautious eyes following him and here and there he caught a thoughtful expression.

  Ignorance is not the same as stupidity. I should remember that.

  'Naldeth?' Kheda entered the dead mage's hut.

  'Go away.' The young wizard's voice was muffled. He was lying on one of the heaps of grass and skins with his back to the door and the crude screens protecting him from breezes as well as the intrusive curiosity of the savages hovering outside the inadequate walls.

  Not the dead mage's bed, nor yet the one where that murdered feathered girl offered herself to you as her old master's conqueror.

  He glanced across the dim interior to see Risala sitting
against one of the pillars supporting the roof. Her feet were drawn up and she was hugging her knees, her head resting on them and her face hidden by her arms. The food she had brought lay untouched on the ground beside her. Beyond her, Kheda saw a dull gleam in the shadows.

  Why have you taken off your false leg?

  It looked as if Naldeth had thrown the steel contrivance over there. One of the buckles had been almost wrenched off its strap.

  'What exactly happened, with that black dragon?' Kheda asked quietly.

  'It held me in thrall with its element so it could show me how to mend myself.' Naldeth's voice shook. 'They can do that, dragons, heal themselves. It could see how I was made and how I was injured and it knew how I could make myself whole again. You're a physician — you must

  know there are rare earths in our bones and blood, that we'll sicken for lack of them. That dragon would have taught me how to use my elemental power to draw what I needed to renew blood and bone and flesh and skin out of the earth around me.'

  'What did it want in return?' Kheda already knew the answer.

  'That I let it feed on whatever people I have no use for.' Naldeth's voice was thick with loathing.

  'And you refused that trade,' Kheda said firmly. 'I can't think of one other man in a thousand who would have had the fortitude to do that. You fought free of whatever elemental thrall it wrapped you in. You have nothing to reproach yourself for.'

  'I could only break free of its earth magic because it misread my affinity.' Naldeth refused to be comforted. 'And curse it, I want two whole legs again. It knew that. You've no idea—'

  'Being cut off from my family in Daish has been like losing a part of me,' Kheda said without heat. 'Losing my children, born of my flesh. I live with it because I have to. You do the same. You could have curled up and died when you lost your leg. As you say, I'm a physician. I've seen men die not from wounds like that but from despair. You didn't succumb to either. You didn't capitulate to the dragon, despite temptation few could withstand.'

  And I cannot allow you to give in to despair or self-pity just at the moment. You don't seem to realise it, but this fight has barely begun. If I cannot rekindle your spirit, we're all dead.

  'I don't see much virtue in declining to become a murderer,' Naldeth groused, but the anger in his voice was blunted.

  kheda went to sit beside Risala, limbs leaden and

  fatigue tightening his neck. He rolled his head on his shoulders to ease his neck as best he could.

  At least I'm not wearing armour.

  Risala didn't move. Kheda put an arm around her rigid shoulders with some difficulty. Her tunic was cold and damp and unpleasant to embrace. She didn't yield to his attempt to draw her close. Surprised, he reached over to brush tousled hair from her forehead, trying to raise her face with a gentle hand. She refused to cooperate, shoulders hunching.

  'I hate this,' she muttered with low vehemence. 'I hate this place and I hate these people and I hate being so scared and I hate seeing no end to this chaos.'

  Kheda still did his best to hug her. 'We've survived death and magic before.'

  'This is different.' Risala looked up, her eyes flinty and cold in the muted light. 'Before, we were among our own islands, with some hope of fleeing to our own people if worst came to worst. We were risking our lives to save our own people and, beyond them, the wider Archipelago. You were reading the signs in the skies and in the earthly compass that offered us some hope that we would see peace and safety again. All the omens reassured us we were doing the right thing, even if we were breaking every law and custom. What do we have to guide us now, if you've abandoned all trust in such lore? I thought if you got away from Chazen, from all the demands and debates and the burdens upon you, you'd see the compass clearly again, out on the ocean with nothing between you and the stars.'

  She looked out of the bright rectangle that was the hut's entrance, her face smudged where tears had mingled with windblown dirt. 'We weren't even supposed to make landfall here, or to get involved with these people. These wizards were supposed to keep us safe and bring us

  home when we'd learned all we could to safeguard our own. What are we supposed to do now, Kheda? There's still a dragon and a wild mage between us and the Zaise and we've stirred up this place as thoroughly as if we'd stuck a stick in an anthill. How do we get out of here? How do we get back to the ship?'

  Naldeth rolled over and sat up awkwardly. 'I know this isn't what we planned,' he began with some distress, 'but I'm sure we can leave soon enough. With the sky dragon gone and the skull-faced mage dead, I'm sure Velindre can work an effective translocation sooner or—'

  'You don't think that black dragon will be back?' Risala looked angrily at the mage, flinging out a hand in the direction of the distant river. 'With his pet mage and as many spearmen as the tree dwellers can muster? Assuming it doesn't catch you off guard a second time, as soon as you're gone, these people will still be prey to the first wild wizard or hungry dragon that comes across them. Those who aren't killed outright will just be thrown into some foul stockade. You killed the mage who protected them, even if he was a monstrous man.'

  She hunched her shoulders, hugging her knees again, refusing Kheda's embrace. 'Don't tell me you haven't realised all this, my lord of Chazen. And don't tell me you'll leave these people to death and torment, even if they are savages. I know you too well. What I don't know is how we're going to get out of this alive - and don't tell me you've any better idea, my lord, because you wouldn't accept an omen if it rose up in front of you. Not that that will stop you.' She pressed her mouth against her knees as if to stop herself saying anything more. Staring straight ahead, she refused to look at Kheda.

  You're one of the most astute women I've ever known. It's only one of the reasons why I love you. And you 're right. We 're mired deeper in this with every step we take and I can't

  give you any answers, any more than I can give you any consolation read in the heavens or in omens.

  Velindre appeared in the doorway. 'It's a good thing these people don't understand our tongue.'

  'I want you to try scrying, to see exactly what lies between us and the Zaise' Kheda ordered her without preamble. 'Which is almost certainly going to draw unwelcome attention, so you'll need to keep watch for that black dragon, Naldeth. Don't let anything else distract you.'

  Velindre switched her gaze from the younger mage to the warlord. 'I'm not sure that's a good idea.'

  'Then come up with a better one.' Abandoning his attempts to comfort Risala, Kheda got to his feet. He looked down at Naldeth, his expression implacable. 'We certainly won't get home to Hadrumal or Chazen if we're dead and in a dragon's belly, so you had better strap on that leg of yours and start thinking how best you two mages can defend us from the magical malice of beasts or wizards. I'll see if I can come up with some plan to get the better of their spears and slings. Between us, we must get back to the ship.'

  'You honestly think we can?' Naldeth looked at him, half-sullen, half-hopeful.

  'As long as we're not attacked in the meantime,' Risala said dourly. She glanced at the magewoman. 'Can you scry out for more immediate dangers yet?'

  'I think so.' Velindre shrugged. 'But I'll need something to hold some water.'

  'I'll get it.' Risala looked warily up at the sky as she went out of the doorway. She didn't have to go far before she reached a knot of women clutching straw-coloured gourds veined with brown. As she held out her hands, the sweetness of her beseeching smile pierced Kheda.

  When will you smile at me like that again? How could I

  have been so blind to your distress at my rejection of both compasses and all omens?

  The savage woman handed over her gourd, her scowl making it plain she begrudged it though she didn't dare refuse. Stony-faced once again, Risala brought it back to the mage woman.

  Velindre took it with a sigh. 'Come on, Naldeth. How are we going to get past that black dragon without it noticing us? Unless you're going to ch
ange your mind and settle for a lifetime as the magical tyrant of this tribe.'

  'I have no intention of staying here any longer than I have to.' Kheda managed a humourless smile. 'And as I see it, the only way we're going to get out of here is by cooperating and using all our skills. Let's get to it.'

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  'Are we any closer to getting out of here? Are we going to get back to theZaise today? At least we were spared any more attacks yesterday. What good did that do us? Howcan we work together if we're barely even talking to each other?

  Lying on his back as the morning light filtered through the doorway, Kheda looked up at the uncommunicativeinterior of the roof of the dead wizard's hut and sighed. In unspoken agreement the previous evening, they had dismantled the bed spaces of the dead mage and his women, dividing the hides and heaps of grass into four piles. Kheda had set himself between the open doorway and the four central pillars where the others were sleeping' sheltered by panels of woven bark. Kheda had preferred to suffer the draughts, not wanting anything obstructing his view in case trouble came in the night. He rolled overas he heard footsteps outside the hut.

  'It looks as if breakfast has arrived.' Risala sat upright as two small, naked children carefully set gourds down by the open doorway and took to their heels. It wasapparent from her voice that she had already been wide awake as well.

  Kheda retrieved the gourds and found them full of fluffy white pulp speckled with dark-green fragments. He scooped up a cautious fingerful and held it on his tongue for amoment. It was surprisingly palatable, with an unexpected citrus flavour permeating the bland starchiness.

  / don't suppose they'd be trying to poison us, not with Naldeth having proved himself so valuable a wizard.

  He chewed and swallowed and bit down on something hard. Abrupt bitterness flooded his mouth. Grimacing, he used a grimy fingernail to dig fibres out from between two back teeth. 'Spit out the green bits,' he advised as he brought the gourds back into the hut, setting one down by the two wizards and offering the other to Risala.