Song of the Silvercades

by K S Nikakis

  Kest’s doubts about Caledon’s veracity remained, being unconvinced by Caledon’s explanation that the Shargh hunted Kira because of her gold eyes. He reminded Miken that Kira’s family had been singled out and killed too. He also pointed out that Caledon was both clever and well travelled, and that his visits to, and knowledge of, the Terak lands positioned him to be highly selective in what he revealed.

  But it was Caledon’s relationship with Kira that irked Kest most.

  ‘If Kira had been ready to bond, I would have bonded with her, if only to stop her leaving,’ he said.

  ‘I suspected as much,’ said Miken, ‘but trusted you’d act as you did. Kira barely thought about men before all this began,’ he continued. ‘She spent her days gathering, preparing her pastes and potions, and roaming the forest with Kandor and Tresen. Maxen once suggested to me that Kira could break Tremen law by taking Tresen in love, but I never had any concerns. Kira’s love for Tresen was the same as her love for Kandor – the only type of love Kira knew.

  ‘But a lot can change in two moons. Kira left Allogrenia, survived a trek over the Dendora with the Shargh probably hunting her, and crossed a mountain range with a man she met along the way. He gave her food and shelter, and I’ve no doubt his knowledge of the lands they traversed helped keep her safe. It’s no surprise she’s developed affection for him.’

  ‘If she has.’

  ‘Are you letting your feelings for Kira colour your judgement of Caledon?’ asked Miken.

  ‘He must be almost old enough to be her father.’

  ‘The father she never had,’ said Miken softly.

  ‘Do you think that’s the way it is for her?’ said Kest.

  ‘Kira’s seventeen, Kest, which makes her a woman with the right to bond with whom she likes, apart from Kashclansmen and Sarclansmen. Were she here, and seeking my advice, I would give it to her. But if she didn’t seek it, I’d remain silent. Above all, I would have her happy, even if it were with a stranger old enough to be her father, for I love Kira as a daughter, and her happiness is as important to me as Mikini’s.’

  That evening, Caledon took his meal with Miken and Kest in the Kashclan longhouse, Miken explaining the structure and workings of the Clancouncil to him and touching on the different personalities of the councillors. Miken also outlined how the attack that had killed Kira’s family had been made possible by Maxen’s ill-considered actions.

  Caledon knew it took little to unravel the ways of isolated peoples, having seen it with the Ashkali when sickness had afflicted their herds. The gods they’d trusted had fast been discredited, and the intricate webs of kinship and obligation broken. He now learned that the attacks on Allogrenia had caused a schism between the Tremen who protected, and those who healed, the Healer Leader wresting control from Kest’s predecessor. Those who’d opposed the power shift had then continued the fracture by flouting the Leader’s edict. His own intrusion would further weaken the weave of Tremen life.

  ‘I know your ways are centred on healing,’ said Caledon, when Miken had fallen silent, ‘but as I said at our first meeting, the fighting that’s started won’t leave you be. Already you’ve suffered deaths and injuries, but these are a small part of what’s to come. The Shargh peoples united make a formidable force, and while they might not be aided by their fourth kin, the Ashmiri, the lack of Ashmiri opposition will count as such.’

  ‘Kasheron rejected the blood-thirst of his brother,’ broke in Kest. ‘It meant sacrificing everything – his right of rule of vast lands, his wealth, his kin and even, it seems, his reputation. Kasheron didn’t preserve the barbarity of his brother, he created Protectors, not a warrior force. Our role is not to do battle on the plains beyond the trees, but to protect Allogrenia.’

  ‘You know your own purposes, and it would be arrogant of me, a stranger, to dispute them,’ said Caledon carefully. ‘But this I would ask: is Allogrenia best protected by repulsing attacks that breach the trees, or by stopping these attacks before they can occur?’

  ‘Kira left to seek help from our northern kin for this very purpose, a quest you have now curtailed,’ said Kest.

  ‘Postponed,’ said Caledon. ‘I understand your anger, Commander, but as I’ve explained to Clanleader Miken, Kira would not have survived the journey across the Sarsalin, and she must survive!’

  ‘Because you desire her?’ demanded Kest angrily.

  Caledon ignored the gibe. ‘Kira’s driven by many things, but her own best interest isn’t one of them. For her sake, she needs to stay in Maraschin. When I don’t return in the time I pledged, Prince Adris will take her north, but she’ll go in safety,’ said Caledon.

  ‘But you think it will make no difference – that the Terak won’t recognise or acknowledge the link?’ said Miken.

  ‘No. All Kira will get in Sarnia is insults.’

  ‘Has Kira ordered Protectors to leave Allogrenia?’ asked Kest.

  ‘No, she’s requested volunteers.’

  Kest and Miken looked at each other in silence. This rang true. Kira would not force men to come.

  ‘Requested in speech or in writing?’ pursued Kest.

  ‘In speech. Her request was reluctant, Commander, as you might well understand. Kira made it only because she realised that the alternative might be the loss of all of her people.

  ‘Who has ultimate command of the Protectors, Commander? You or Kira?’ asked Caledon.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s only been tested once, with disastrous results,’ said Kest, uncomfortable.

  ‘As Kira is absent, would control of the Bough now be yours as well?’ pursued Caledon.

  ‘I’m not a Healer and I doubt the council would allow me to act as the Tremen Leader, even were I inclined to try – which I’m not,’ said Kest.

  ‘Do you have laws prohibiting your people from leaving Allogrenia?’

  ‘Not once their Protector training is complete,’ said Miken. ‘They’re under Kest’s authority during that time, but afterwards men are held by clan-tie, or bondmate, or love of the forest.’

  ‘Or by a tradition of staying,’ said Caledon.

  ‘How many volunteers do you envisage?’ asked Kest.

  ‘I need one hundred and fifty trained fighting men, Commander, whose love of those in the forest is such that they’ll risk their lives for them. Kira refused to order men to leave, so they must be men who are willing to fight alongside others, such as the Tain, who love the same things they do – a life without fear of sword-death for themselves and their kin.’

  ‘A hundred and fifty,’ breathed Miken.

  ‘Kira tells me there are about a thousand Tremen in Allogrenia,’ said Caledon. ‘By my estimation, one hundred and fifty would still leave you with enough of a force to protect the remaining people.’

  ‘Barely,’ retorted Kest.

  ‘The fighting won’t be in Allogrenia, unless we fail in the battles beyond the trees. If that happens, we’re lost in any case,’ said Caledon.

  ‘You won’t be lost. Talliel’s a long way west,’ said Kest.

  ‘If the Shargh destroy the southern populations and the northern, they’re unlikely to stop at the Silvercades.’

  ‘Surely there aren’t enough Shargh to conquer everywhere,’ said Kest.

  ‘There are many small peoples who are exeal – neither kin-linked nor treatied, who will join the Shargh if the alternative is death. Others will join because they share the Shargh’s murderous ambitions, which is how the Terak Kirillian came into being, and why they were victorious – last time.’

  ‘And why Kasheron brought our forebears here,’ said Miken.

  ‘Yes, a break that all but turned the northern victory into defeat,’ said Caledon. ‘Hence the bitterness that lingers there and, if I may say so, here as well.’

  25

  Miken understood the councillors’ reactions: joy at the news of Kira’s survival, dismay at Caledon’s description of the Shargh’s intent, indignation at the possibility of the Terak denying them ai
d, and astonished anger at his request for men. Their reactions mirrored his own and Kest’s, though he and the Commander had since had time to grow used to what Caledon said.

  After Caledon had completed his address, he readied himself to go with Pekrash. The Protector Leader was to outline to him a little about the systems of Protector training. Kest would join them later, when the Clancouncil had ended, to convey the councillors’ decision.

  As soon as the longhouse door closed behind Caledon, the room erupted in a storm of debate, and such was the din it was some time before Kest was able to respond to individual questions. Miken moved round the table, refilling cups with thornyflower tea, regretting it wasn’t withyweed ale. Miken felt in need of an ale, several in fact, the news being discussed no more palatable than when he’d first heard it.

  Berendash denied any of it was true, Ketten and Sanden looked bewildered, and Tenedren kept repeating questions that had already been answered. Both Marren and Kemrick remained silent, as did Dakresh. Miken was surprised at Dakresh’s reaction. He had expected the elderly Sherclan leader to be the most strident in his denunciation of Caledon’s proposal, but he looked frail, his usual cantankerousness missing.

  Losing his son had dealt Dakresh a terrible blow and Miken thought of Tresen, feeling relief rather than dread. Even if the council agreed to Kira’s request for volunteers, Tresen wouldn’t be free to go as he hadn’t completed his Protector training.

  ‘What think you, Miken?’ asked Kemrick, startling Miken from his reverie.

  ‘I’ve had time to consider what Caledon’s said, and to discuss it with Commander Kest. When Caledon first spoke of these things, I must admit that my first impulse was to deny it. What need do we have, I asked myself, to send our men to their deaths? What concern is it of ours what happens to the Tain, and to other peoples beyond Allogrenia?

  ‘The trees shelter us, the Shargh attacks have stopped, and Tremen Leader Feailner Kiraon of Kashclan is safe. She will travel on to Sarnia, under the protection of a Tain patrol, bring our barbaric kin south, and their swords will convince the Shargh to withdraw. Then Tremen life will go on as it has for countless seasons …’

  ‘And now that you’ve had time to consider?’ prompted Kemrick.

  ‘I agree with Commander Kest that Caledon mightn’t be telling us everything he knows. But I think the thrust of what he says rings true. If it is true, our choices are simple. We can remain here, going on as we always have, and hope the Shargh are not victorious in the fighting outside. Or we can remain here and prepare for a triumphant enemy whose lands lie only two days from our north-eastern border. In that situation, there will be no one left outside who is able, or willing, to help us, and we will live or die by the valour of our swords alone.

  ‘Our third choice is to comply with the request for volunteers from our Leader. According to Caledon, Kira has yet to go north but, if he speaks truthfully, Kira’s going north will make no difference to our predicament, for he suspects the Terak Kirillian will deny the link and no help will be given.

  ‘If help is to come, it will come from the Tain, but it must be paid for. If they are to spill their blood in our defence, we must spill ours in theirs.’

  ‘Kasheron wouldn’t be resting easy ’neath the ’green if he could hear such talk,’ muttered Dakresh.

  ‘None of those whose voices are heard in the whisper of leaves would,’ said Kemrick, ‘but I fear our long peace is at an end. I, like Clanleader Miken, think the stranger speaks the truth.’

  ‘One hundred and fifty men. How many would that leave for the more immediate protection of the longhouses?’ Marren asked Kest.

  ‘About three patrols, if some of the older men are willing to come back into Protecting.’

  ‘Would that be enough?’ asked Marren.

  ‘Only if the fighting remained outside the forest. If the previous scale of attacks resumed, we could lose a whole patrol in a single attack.’

  ‘There might not be one hundred and fifty men who would choose to leave, in any case,’ said Kemrick.

  ‘That we won’t know unless we ask,’ said Miken, rising and addressing the council formally. ‘Do we as a council agree to return to our longhouses and ask for the names of those who might go voluntarily? There can be no coercion, simply a truthful retelling of what we’ve heard at this council.’

  ‘Given the facts, I don’t feel we have a lot of choice. What think others?’ asked Kemrick.

  There was a general mutter of agreement.

  ‘Can I suggest we meet again for a special council in seven days? It will give time for proper discussions to take place at the longhouses,’ said Kemrick.

  Again the voices rose in agreement.

  ‘Seven days then, councillors,’ said Kemrick, and ended the council.

  That night, Miken lay with Tenerini soft and warm in his arms, thoughts of the next council preventing sleep. If Tremen men died outside the shelter of the alwaysgreens, their bodies would remain in the alien landscapes of mountains or plains, their voices never to be heard in the whisper of leaves.

  ‘You should sleep,’ said Tenerini, stroking his face.

  ‘I wonder if there’s some other way open to us I’ve not considered,’ said Miken.

  ‘You’re only one of eight and you told me there was a long discussion. Marren’s no fool, nor is Kemrick. If they agreed with you, you must be right.’

  Being right wouldn’t stop blood staining his hands, thought Miken, nor absolve any of them from their betrayal of Kasheron’s ideals. What they were contemplating was exactly what Kasheron had spent the strength of his seasons denying, the creation of Allogrenia costing him and his folk everything. Now it seemed Allogrenia could only survive through the very thing he’d renounced. And it mightn’t survive even if victory were won beyond the trees.

  ‘Tell me what you think,’ said Tenerini.

  ‘I don’t want to darken your days as well,’ said Miken, placing his hand over hers.

  Tenerini perched up on her elbow, her eyes glimmering in the faint wash of moonlight. ‘I can bear ill news better than you holding yourself from me.’

  ‘I would never do that,’ said Miken, kissing her.

  ‘Tell me,’ she said softly.

  ‘It’s hard to imagine anyone who’s fathered a child will choose to leave, there’s too much holding them here. If men volunteer, it will be the young.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s possible none will return, and even if half return, the loss of seventy or so men who will never father even a single child, might be the ending of Allogrenia.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Tenerini in a small voice.

  ‘I don’t think the council has either. It’s only come to me this evening.’

  ‘Maybe … maybe in that case, our women will follow Kira’s lead,’ murmured Tenerini.

  ‘What mean you?’

  ‘Kira left the forest and met this man Caledon, and now she may well bond with him. If we treaty with the people called the Tain, and if our men fight together, then maybe in the end our young women will find bondmates among them.’

  It scarcely seemed possible that young Tremen women could seek bondmates outside Allogrenia, but if Kira did bond with Caledon, she’d prove it was. Tremen women might leave, or strangers arrive – and settle. The thought did nothing to make sleep come and the days that followed only increased his fears.

  On the night before the next Clancouncil, Kest collected the lists of volunteers from the Warens and took them to the Kashclan longhouse. Paper had been set in one of the training rooms, so that men could record their name and clan away from the gaze of others, and it was only when Kest gathered them that the clan numbers were known. Miken had a jug of ale waiting, and roasted rednuts, and he served Kest as the Commander set down the eight piles.

  ‘One hundred and forty-two,’ said Kest. ‘Thirty-one from Morclan, nineteen from Sherclan, fourteen from Tarclan, eighteen from Barclan, fifteen from Sarclan, twenty from
Kenclan, nineteen from Renclan, and six from Kashclan – including your son.’

  Miken’s hand jerked, spilling the ale. ‘But he knows he can’t go! He knows only those who’ve finished Protector training can go.’

  ‘He volunteers as patrol Healer,’ said Kest. ‘No other Healers have, and at least one’s going to be needed. There’s no Protector Leaders either, so no Commander. I’m willing to go, but that means someone else will have to assume command of the remaining Protectors.’

  ‘You command the Protectors of Allogrenia and, if worse comes to worst, will lead our last defence. Your role at least is clear.’

  ‘But not Tresen’s,’ said Kest, his eyes sympathetic.

  Miken sighed. ‘Tresen wants back what’s been stolen from him: the life he had with Kira and Kandor. Kandor’s dead, but Kira lives. You know that’s how he came upon Caledon, don’t you? He went right to the Renclan Sentinel looking for Kira’s body.’

  ‘He wants to be away from me, too. It’s unusual – Protector training is normally something young men look forward to – a time of testing and growing away from their longhouses, and I could make Tresen stay here and complete his training. But the men who leave will have need of him; in fact, one hundred and forty-two fighting men will have need of more than one Healer,’ said Kest.

  ‘I fear that all the Healers we have won’t be enough for what’s to come,’ said Miken, his face grave.

  26

  Caledon spent the time of waiting either at the longhouses or in travel between them. The clans were eager to offer hospitality – keen to meet a stranger from beyond the forest – and it had given him the opportunity to talk with the men who were tempted by what lay beyond the trees, and for him to gain a deeper understanding of how the forest sustained the Tremen. He also sought out more information about Kira, adept at turning conversations in that direction, and learning much of her growing and of the desperate days after the attacks began. By the eve of the second Clancouncil, he felt confident that when the fighting was over with, and he turned west for Talliel, he had the knowing to persuade Kira to go with him.