Song of the Silvercades

by K S Nikakis

  ‘Kalos,’ said Kira in surprise.

  ‘It would have taken too long to come all the way round to The Steps,’ said Tierken tiredly. ‘Here’s the water.’

  Kira pulled off her cape, but the buttons of her jacket proved more difficult with her raw palms.

  ‘Let me,’ said Tierken, propping the burning wood against the stone.

  His nearness destroyed all thought and Kira concentrated on the fire-gilded water.

  ‘It was my mistake sending my men by The Steps. I thought it would be safer,’ he said, bringing the back of his fingers to her cheek. The thought of how close she’d come to death still made him sweat.

  ‘There’s no harm done,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Someone as young as you shouldn’t be so far from home,’ he said in frustration.

  ‘I’m not young. I’m seventeen. In my lands I –’

  ‘Are you injured back or front?’ he interrupted.

  ‘Front.’

  ‘Let’s see.’

  Kira hesitated and Tierken impatiently pushed up her shirt and laved water over the scrapes. She winced and then a Kir child coughed.

  ‘I need to see that child,’ said Kira.

  ‘Herders’ children always cough. Time for sleep,’ said Tierken. He picked up the torch and, taking her arm, drew her back towards the tunnelway.

  Kira tried to break free from his grip but his fingers tightened. ‘Leave it,’ he ordered, keeping his voice low.

  ‘I’m a Healer, Tierken.’

  ‘You need to rest.’

  ‘I’m a Healer. If you understand nothing else about me, understand that!’

  Tierken made no reply, just marched her back to the fire and stood over her while she salved her wounds and crawled into her sleeping-sheet. Then he got into his, for once sleeping beside her.

  Between the soft bleats of goats, and Tierken’s breathing, she could hear the child coughing. It was a wet cough, in need of soothing. It took a long time for sleep to come.

  38

  Kira waited at the cave’s entrance, inhaling the ice-bright air, shivering even though she’d donned her spare shirt, jacket and cape. Each dawn took her closer to Sarnia, and the time she must bend her knee to the Terak King and beg aid. From what Tierken had said, there was no doubt it would be granted. But what frightened her most was inadvertently insulting the King by using the wrong words. She’d been awkward at her first Clan-council, and she didn’t want to be clumsy again. She was, after all, the Tremen Leader.

  ‘The first day of winter and a full moon,’ said Tierken coming to her side.

  ‘The Shargh attacked the Tremen at the full moon,’ said Kira, her thoughts on her people, wishing them safe.

  ‘How many attacks did the Tremen suffer?’

  ‘Five.’

  ‘Over how long?’ asked Tierken.

  ‘Five moons.’

  ‘Starting when?’

  ‘Spring.’

  ‘And before then?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing. We’d had season upon season of peace.’ How little she’d appreciated it; how much she’d taken for granted. Now each day was a gift, to be taken with no expectation of another.

  Jonred appeared with the ornate container of coals, presenting it with a bow and the customary, ‘Guard it well, Feailner.’

  ‘With my life,’ responded Tierken.

  Kira turned to follow Jonred but Tierken stopped her. ‘You will ride with me during the first part of the journey.’

  Like the patrolmen, the Kir herders were ready to leave, their heavy packs on their backs, even the children carrying bundles. Tierken saddled Kalos and pulled the girth tight, Slivkash and the other Kirs likewise busy but keeping up a shouted conversation with the herders. The Kir child still coughed and Kira strode off through the goats. They looked at her with their strange white and blue eyes as they shuffled aside.

  ‘Kira!’ shouted Tierken, irritated, but she’d reached the small group of Kirs, and was already raking around in her pack for the pouch of annin leaves.

  ‘We don’t have time for this,’ hissed Tierken, coming to her side.

  ‘Tell the mother to break the leaves up and mix them with boiling water and honey,’ Kira said to Tierken, handing over the annin leaves. ‘The child should sip the mixture for the cough.’

  Tierken translated, and there was much bowing and smiling from the group as Tierken took Kira’s arm and propelled her back to the horses.

  ‘I told you last night to leave it,’ he said, mounting and offering his hand.

  ‘And I told you I was a Healer.’

  ‘Your wrist, not your hand. You don’t want to do yourself more damage,’ said Tierken impatiently, pulling her up behind him. ‘We’ve a long day ahead, too long for unnecessary delays.’

  ‘Stopping a child’s cough is not an unnecessary delay,’ retorted Kira. ‘Would the Terak King want you to deny his people healing?’

  ‘We have Feailners not Kings.’

  ‘Well, would the Terak Feailner deny his people healing?’

  ‘He would if it delayed his patrol’s return,’ said Tierken, as they made their way down the snowy slope.

  ‘Then I’m glad I’m not Terak,’ said Kira.

  ‘No, you’re exeal,’ said Tierken.

  They reached the bottom of the slope and cantered round the front of the Keep in a broad loop, the silence between them as icy as the ground. From the plain the caverns looked like gaping eyes, while ahead the land fell away in a massive blue fold in the snow. Tierken brought Kalos to a halt well south of it, waiting for Jonred’s group to finish their careful descent.

  ‘Ember Chasm’s probably another collapsed cave like the east and west Keep,’ he said. ‘It’s thought to be about a hundred lengths deep, but no one knows. It claims quite a few goats, and I’ve seen wolves go over when they’re pack-hunting and unaware. Men have died in it as well. You’re the first person I’ve known to survive it,’ he added, reaching back and touching her leg gently.

  It was a peace offering but Kira didn’t trust herself to respond, still struggling with her anger over Tierken’s willingness to deny the Kir child healing.

  They set off, the day staying fine. Kira would have enjoyed the journey had her hands not been so sore, her grip on the saddle-strap rubbing off the newly formed scabs. Tierken kept Kalos’s pace steady, despite his earlier ill temper at their delay, and it was close to midday when they came to the end of the snow, the edge as sharp as a knife-cut.

  ‘If you’re going to get early snow, it will be between Cover-cape Crest and Breshlin,’ said Tierken over his shoulder.

  ‘Is that snow ahead too?’ asked Kira, peering at a shining strip of white above the plain.

  ‘That’s the Silvercades,’ replied Tierken. ‘They’re snowy always.’

  Another name from the map! Kira’s heart quickened, for she knew that nestled at the feet of the Silvercades was Sarnia. The end to her quest was in sight at last.

  ‘How much further to Sarnia?’ she asked.

  ‘Two days from Breshlin Ford, which we’ll reach by dusk. Whether we set camp there or go on, depends.’

  Two days! Soon she would be standing before the Terak King – no, the Terak Feailner. It was odd and confusing that both Tierken and the man who ruled over all the Terak bore the title ‘Feailner’. Perhaps the Terak ruler had another part to his title that set him apart. In Allogrenia there were Clanleaders and Protector Leaders, as well as the Tremen Leader. In her own case, she was ‘Tremen Leader Feailner’ in recognition of her ability to take pain. Perhaps Tierken’s title ‘Feailner’ recognised his special role of carrying the fire, as well as his status as a Leader or Commander.

  The northern titles were complicated, but what made her most anxious was that Tierken had no knowing of the Tremen and, given that he outranked Marin, he should. And if he had no knowing, it was likely the northern ruler wouldn’t either.

  Kira groped about for something to reassure herself with.

&nb
sp; The Tain hadn’t known anything about the Tremen, and their lands were a lot closer, she recalled. But if she was going to have to convince the northern ruler of the Tremen’s existence before begging aid, it was going to make her task horribly difficult.

  ‘What distresses you?’ asked Tierken, turning.

  ‘Nothing,’ muttered Kira, not meeting his eyes.

  ‘I can feel your agitation. Are you in pain?’

  ‘My hands hurt.’

  ‘Is that all?’ said Tierken, staring at her shrewdly.

  Kira could think of nothing acceptable to say that was also true, so remained silent.

  ‘We’ll be at the Breshlin soon and you can tell me then,’ he said.

  39

  The Breshlin River appeared with its usual surprising suddenness, for its shallow banks allowed it to merge into the plain. Tierken peered up its gleaming flow towards the Silvercades as he splashed through the ford’s broad shallows. The waters carried the tang of the Kessomi forests, the sweetest taste in all his lands, Tierken thought, as he lowered Kira to the ground.

  It was a long time since breakfast at the Keep, and if they went on it would be deep into the night before they ate again. Either Ges Grove or The Ials would suit, but The Ials would take them further east than he wanted. Or they could spend the night here in the sparse shelter of the therinwoods, meaning the Marken would have to wait another day for his return, as would Laryia, unfortunately.

  ‘Should we stay here or go on to Ges?’ Tierken asked Marin, as his Commander came level.

  ‘I don’t think Meros is going to send us another nasty dump of snow, but it’ll be a cold night,’ said Marin, peering west. ‘There’s probably a bit more shelter in the Ges, Feailner.’

  It would mean a lot of travel in the dark, increasing the risk of falls despite the full moon, but if they went on they’d reach Sarnia the day after next – in daylight. He considered the advantages and disadvantages of that briefly, frowning as he thought of Kira’s likely reception.

  ‘A quick meal, Marin, then we’ll go to Ges.’

  ‘Yes, Feailner.’

  Marin moved off and issued orders while Tierken extricated his waterskin from his pack and went back to the river. Kira stood fidgeting on its banks, her eyes like sunlight on metal, as they darted between the mountains and the horses.

  ‘Tell me what troubles you,’ he said, crouching on the bank to fill his waterskin.

  ‘It’s something you said before about Feailners, which I don’t understand …’

  ‘What don’t you understand?’ said Tierken, searching his mind for what might have distressed her.

  ‘You said the Terak have Feailners, not Kings, but you’re called Feailner. Do the Terak use the title “Feailner” for leaders of patrols as well as for the ruler of all the Terak people?’

  ‘No,’ said Tierken. ‘There’s only one Feailner.’

  Kira gaped at him, the truth dawning. And then the understanding hit her. ‘But … you don’t know the Tremen,’ she blurted in horror, in Terak.

  Tierken’s astonishment flashed to anger as he realised she’d understood his speech all along.

  ‘Of all the deceitful …’ he exclaimed, seizing her arm and dragging her off along the bank until they were out of the men’s earshot. ‘You speak Terak! What are you – a spy? Everything you’ve told me since we’ve been together’s been a lie!’ he hissed, shaking her savagely before releasing her.

  ‘I’ve told you no lies!’ retorted Kira, rubbing her arms but unbowed by his fury. ‘I speak Tremen!’

  Tierken could hear Poerin’s acerbic words above the thunder of his blood. Uncomfortable facts, Tierken! Face them now or rue you didn’t in the future!

  ‘It’s the same language,’ she said more quietly.

  ‘Similar it might be, the same it isn’t!’ spat Tierken. ‘It was pure deceit to eavesdrop on everything we said. What else you’ve lied about we’ll discover in Sarnia and the reasons for your falsehoods. I want nothing more to do with you. You’ll ride with Jonred.’

  Tierken strode off fuming, but Kira remained where she was, realising miserably that she couldn’t have made a poorer beginning with the Terak Feailner. And she could see why he was upset. But by the time she’d become confident that the men really did mean to protect her – rather than kill her like the Shargh – it had been too late to reveal her understanding of their tongue. And it would have raised too many questions, the answers to which were for the northern ruler’s ears alone – Tierken’s, as it turned out.

  The patrol ate quickly – maizen bread and cotzee – then the fires were quenched and they were on their way. They spoke openly of the Feailner’s clash with their ‘guest’, but when Jonred spoke to Kira, he did so courteously in Onespeak. Kira replied in Onespeak also, wondering why Tierken hadn’t announced her ‘deceit’ to the entire patrol. It was a relief that he hadn’t.

  Tierken’s guts roiled as he rode and it took him till nightfall to be able to think dispassionately again. He told himself that all that had really happened was that he’d taken a patrol to the edge of the Tain lands, his men had rescued a woman from the Shargh, and he had given her protection as he was obliged to do. Because he had to return to Sarnia in time for the Feailmark, his protection of the woman meant that she must accompany them north, his generosity rewarded by the goodwill she’d garnered for his people from the Ashmiri. All in all, he reassured himself, it had been a highly successful patrol.

  Except he’d lost the ability to differentiate lies from truth, had broken the tenets of protection by kissing Kira and, despite her lies, could think of no explanation for her eyes and face and tongue. She had definitely spoken Terak, but surely she couldn’t be Terak or Kessomi?

  In the end, he gave up trying to solve the puzzle, having to concentrate on finding the safest route over the darkened ground instead. And despite the anger that lingered at her deceit, he couldn’t bring himself to regret that she was coming to Sarnia.

  40

  Ges Grove was composed entirely of alwaysgreens, and the patrolmen set camp deep within their fragrant darkness. Jonred had gone with the horses and left Kira with Marin. But Kira was too restless to sit, going to the tree nearest Marin’s fire, and beginning to climb. She needed to be within the tree’s deep Shelter, to let the cocoon of cool spiciness help her plan how to win back Tierken’s trust. The task seemed impossible, but so had crossing the Dendora once, Kira comforted herself.

  Tierken ensured the camp was fully ordered before going to Marin’s fire, in no rush to confront his gold-eyed guest again. But Marin was alone.

  ‘Our guest sleeps?’ he asked, as Marin passed him cotzee.

  ‘Up that tree.’

  ‘You let her climb –’ started Tierken, his residual anger replaced by alarm.

  ‘She’s from a forest, she knows trees,’ said Marin, offering Tierken a plate of warmed jackin and maizen bread.

  ‘She’s under our protection,’ said Tierken, taking the food.

  ‘It didn’t look like it at the Breshlin.’

  Tierken grunted and began to eat. ‘She speaks Terak,’ he said, after a while.

  Marin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘Have you asked her how it’s so?’

  ‘She says it’s Tremen.’

  ‘They’re the same language?’

  ‘So she claims. But we both know they can’t be,’ said Tierken.

  ‘She has your eyes and face, and now speaks your tongue,’ said Marin. ‘It would be wise to find out why.’ He looked up at the rustling branches of the tree Kira had climbed.

  ‘The Sarsalin stops at Sarnia gate,’ Marin continued, picking up his plate and mug and joining the men at the other fire.

  Tierken stared after him. Marin was reminding Tierken that those in Sarnia could use Kira against him.

  There was a soft plop as Kira’s pack dropped to the forest floor, then Kira plummeted through the branches, curled her shoulder into a roll and came back up and onto her feet.

&
nbsp; ‘By Irid!’ exclaimed Tierken, leaping up thinking she’d fallen. ‘We need to talk,’ he said, his heart still racing, as she calmly brushed the leaves from her breeches.

  Kira came back to the fire and sat where he gestured, eyeing him warily.

  ‘Tell me of your family,’ he ordered, deciding to start with the easy things.

  ‘My father was Maxen of Kashclan, my mother was Fasarini of Sarclan, my brothers were Merek, Lern and Kandor.’

  So much for ‘easy’ things. ‘Your family were killed by the Shargh?’ guessed Tierken, forcing himself on.

  ‘Apart from my mother, who died when I was young.’

  Kira’s answers were businesslike, but her hands were clenched. The language was the same, even down to the Kessomi lilt and phrasing, like his grandmother spoke. She had to be Kessomi or Terak!

  ‘I know you’re Kashclan. What are the other clans called?’ asked Tierken.

  ‘Sarclan, Tarclan, Morclan, Renclan, Kenclan, Barclan and Sherclan.’

  The names told him nothing. ‘Do they have their own lands?’ ‘The longhouses are a half day’s walk apart and each clan has gathering rights within a fixed boundary around them. Allogrenia’s like the spokes of a wheel, with the longhouses and their octads fanning out from the Bough in the centre.’

  ‘Your settlement’s called Allogrenia? Like these trees?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What’s the Bough?’ asked Tierken, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ease his tension.

  ‘It was the most beautiful building in Allogrenia, as befits a place of healing,’ said Kira, eyes fluorescing. ‘Kasheron built it.’

  Tierken stared at her, wondering if he’d misheard.

  ‘Kasheron and his followers established a place of healing in the forests, after they’d left behind the warring ways of the north,’ continued Kira, eyes brighter than the flames.

  Of all the things Tierken feared Kira might say, the ludicrous impossibility of her assertion was a relief. Kasheron and his followers had fled north beyond the Oskinas Sea, and here was a woman claiming he’d gone in the opposite direction, into the forests, of all places! Tierken threw back his head and laughed, and it was a moment before he realised she actually believed what she said.