Song of the Silvercades

by K S Nikakis

  ‘Tierken’s postponed the patrol, and is at the stables, readying the horses. I’ve packed fur jackets and fleece shirts for you because it’s freezing in Kessom this time of season, but so lovely! The snow glitters, and the Kristlin glows like a blue gem. Oh, how I long to see Eris and Thalli and Jafiel …’

  Kira looked at her in bewilderment, and Laryia took her hands. ‘I’m probably not making sense, but Tierken said to let you sleep as long as possible. He came to my rooms a while ago and told me we’re going.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘He says he needs to speak with Poerin, but I know he wants to see Eris as much as I do. Oh, I can’t wait! Come Kira and dress. I know Niria put some warmer things in one of these chests for you,’ said Laryia, darting towards one.

  ‘I’ll get them,’ said Kira quickly.

  Laryia stopped and Kira smiled. ‘I’m sorry, I’m still half asleep. I’ll dress in the warmest things there are and meet you at the stables.’

  ‘I’ve got hats and gloves, Kira, but you won’t need those till we clear the Tiar Forests. We’ll breakfast there. Don’t be long. It’s going to be so wonderful. You’re going to love Kessom, and Eris. I know Eris is going to love you too.’

  Kira dressed and made her way down to the stables, wondering at this turn of events. She didn’t know whether to feel disappointed at yet another delay to her journey south, or excited at the prospect of Kessom. Eris was a Healer, and Kira was looking forward to speaking with her and of learning new healing ways. There was also the possibility that Eris knew the truth of her claim, or that others in Kessom would. Perhaps she wouldn’t need to ride south alone after all.

  Tierken led the way into the foothills, with Laryia and Kira next and two Domain Guard bringing up the rear. Laryia kept up a constant chatter on everything from the Silver Falls – which were the most striking in the Terak lands – to the dwinhir hatchlings in the Torlands behind Kessom. In contrast, Tierken had said nothing all day, his greeting at the stables no more than a nod.

  As the scattered trees came together to form a dense grove, Laryia fell silent, the thick leaf-fall reducing the horses’ hoof-beats to soft thuds and filling the air with resinous scent. There was no undergrowth, just trunk upon trunk stretching away on either side.

  ‘The Tiar Forests are always dim,’ said Laryia, ‘but we’ll be through them soon.’

  ‘They’re beautiful,’ said Kira.

  ‘I forgot your lands were forested,’ said Laryia smiling. ‘You’re going to feel at home in the Frost Groves, and the allogrenia stands in Kessom.’

  They emerged into the crisp morning air again, the path narrowing and steepening, forcing them into single file until the slope levelled off.

  ‘This is the Tiar Lookround, where we’ll breakfast,’ said Laryia.

  They dismounted and the horses were tethered. From the Lookround it was easy to see why the area had been so named, the Silvercades climbing at their back and a sweeping view opening up to the front and sides. Beyond the dark crowns of the Tiar Forest, wintry sunshine lit the stonework of Sarnia, the city confined by the perfect circle of its wall. Beyond Sarnia, the Sarsalin glimmered in a golden mist, and Kira watched birds appearing and disappearing from the haze.

  ‘Courting dwinhir,’ said Tierken, coming to her side.

  The intricate pattern of their flight was different to what Kira had seen previously.

  ‘In winter, the male bird seeks a mate,’ explained Tierken. ‘The female flies like that to test his strength and resolve, and to see if he’s in accord with her.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem very fair,’ said Kira, her eyes on the birds.

  ‘Oh, he gets his reward. If she chooses him, she’ll choose no other and he’ll have a mate for life. In Kessom, it’s called the dance of the dwinhir, but some Terak call it the disappointment of the dwinhir, because the female bird doesn’t always accept the male.’

  Tierken glanced over to where the Guard had set a fire and Laryia was busy with the food. ‘I need to beg your pardon for my words in the last night. They were ill-considered and untrue,’ he said.

  ‘I wasn’t much better,’ muttered Kira.

  Tierken’s fingers under her chin brought her face round to his. ‘Are we in accord?’ he asked softly.

  ‘I don’t think the Terak and Tremen will ever be in accord.’

  ‘The dance isn’t over yet,’ he said, and kissed her.

  ‘The cotzee’s brewed and the nuts are roasted,’ called Laryia cheerfully. ‘Time to eat!’

  Their meal was brief and they continued along the narrow top of the ridge, the day remaining fine with only a gentle breeze. Kira guessed that the journey would be very different in a high wind. There were no sheltering trees, the nearest growth being squat bushes some way down the slope. It was near midday when the land flattened again and they crossed a broad, fast-flowing river, gashing white where it broke against rocks. There was a roar, too, out of proportion to the river’s flow.

  ‘This is the Silver River and what you can hear are the Silver Falls,’ said Tierken, raising his voice to be heard above the noise. ‘We’ll stop soon to eat. There’s a good view of the Falls from further ahead.’

  The track divided on the other side of the river and they turned north-east, the ridge broadening, allowing trees to crowd closer. A short way further, Tierken led them off the main track along an overgrown path, silvery foliage brushing against them as they ducked under branches, the path ending in a small clearing.

  ‘I’ll show you the Falls,’ said Tierken, taking Kira’s hand and leading her through tangled bushes. ‘We need to take care, the land drops away suddenly.’

  The words had scarcely left his mouth when his grip tightened and he brought her to a stop, water plunging down the sheer rock of a yawning gulf. Rainbows flickered, flung into space by the water’s spume, reminding Kira of Caledon and the stream below the Aurantia Cave.

  ‘Irid’s sign,’ said Tierken softly, looking at her rather than the rainbows.

  There was no slow arousal, just an instant and fierce want of him. Kira forgot the Falls, the silvery plants, the crisp air sharp against her skin, becoming conscious of them again only after the sweet ecstasy had ebbed away.

  She lay in his arms, knowing it might be the last time making it all the more precious.

  ‘Laryia will come to look for us in a moment,’ murmured Tierken, easing down her shirt and lacing her breeches, then pulling his own clothes into place. He helped her up, staring at her, curiously intent.

  ‘Marry me, Kira.’

  The words only slowly entered Kira’s consciousness, and she had no time to react before Laryia appeared, her gaze darting between them.

  ‘I waited for you to come back and eat, and the food’s cold now. At this rate it’ll be dark before we clear the gorge,’ she said, alternately irritated and intrigued.

  ‘You’re right, Laryia,’ said Tierken. ‘It’s getting late. We must go on.’

  53

  Tierken’s last words to her ran through Kira’s head over and over again as they rode, making no more sense than before. From what she’d heard on patrol and in Sarnia, kinship and treaty were paramount in the north. It was implausible that a Feailner would tie himself to a woman who was exeal. She must have somehow mistaken his intent.

  The land soared upward all around them now, and once the sun dipped below the peaks the air chilled rapidly. Laryia pulled out a thick fleece hat, gloves and cape, Kira taking them gratefully and pulling the hat low over her frozen ears.

  ‘The last part of a night journey to Kessom is cool in summer but icy in winter,’ said Laryia. ‘But the winter skies make up for being frozen, their fire Kessom’s special welcome to the traveller. It’s not far now, though. Soon we’ll be warming ourselves in Eris’s cooking place.’

  Kira gazed up at the starry brilliance.

  ‘The Kessomis call them star-storms,’ said Tierken. ‘It’s said few Kessomis leave Kessom because they’re star-bound to
the Silvercades.’

  ‘You left,’ said Kira.

  ‘I was going home. Laryia and I were born in Sarnia.’

  ‘But raised in Kessom,’ said Kira. ‘Where does your heart lie now?’

  ‘You of all people should know that,’ he said quietly.

  ‘It lies in Kessom, of course!’ interjected Laryia, as a scatter of lamps emerged from the darkness. ‘We’re home!’

  A low building became visible next, then the pale wood of yards. A horse neighed, and Kalos, Chime and Kira’s mare answered.

  ‘Kessomi horses know their own,’ said Tierken.

  A door slammed and a lamp bobbed towards them.

  ‘A good night to you, Robrin,’ said Tierken.

  ‘By the mists of Mintlin! It’s you, Tierken, and Laryia. Ah, this is a happy night for Kessom.’

  Tierken and Laryia dismounted and were enveloped in hugs.

  ‘This is our guest Kira,’ said Tierken, helping Kira down.

  Kira went to bow but found herself hugged by Robrin as well. ‘You’re very welcome,’ he said. ‘We’ve heard tell of your “twin”,’ Robrin said to Tierken, ‘and for once the tattle-tongues were right.’

  ‘You’ve room in the stables?’ asked Tierken.

  ‘By all means, by all means,’ said Robrin, taking their reins.

  ‘And someone to help?’ asked Laryia.

  ‘Plenty of that too, Laryia. Go on off to Eris. We’ll be seeing you in a few days, no doubt, for a proper welcome,’ said Robrin, before heading towards the stables with their mounts in tow.

  Tierken spoke to the Guard, who followed Robrin, then took Kira’s hand, as Laryia danced on ahead. The path led steadily upward, disappearing into the deeper darkness of trees, their spicy scent unmistakable.

  ‘Alwaysgreens,’ said Kira, slowing.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ said Tierken, pulling her after him.

  Lamps glimmered in the darkness, seeming to hang in the air where the houses were set on higher ground. They crossed a small wooden bridge with dark water gurgling beneath.

  ‘The Zinaidi,’ said Tierken, without pausing.

  More alwaysgreens crowded forward, their glorious scent washing over Kira, and a house appeared, set close to the path. Laryia stood motionless in front of it.

  ‘Everything looks the same. Even the freylin still grows,’ murmured Laryia, touching the leafless, gnarled bush overhanging the doorway.

  Tierken knocked and waited. After a while, the door opened and a wedge of yellow light spilled out, illuminating a small hunched figure, who cried out in joy. Tierken bent low and Eris kissed him on each cheek, then did the same with Laryia, the welcome curiously formal after the stableman’s. Kira came forward reluctantly and Eris kissed her on each cheek too, holding her face cradled as she stared at her intently.

  ‘It’s good that you’ve come to Kessom,’ said Eris. ‘It was time.’

  They shared a small meal and the excited chatter ebbed, replaced by weariness. Laryia took Kira to her childhood sleeping-room, leaving Eris and Tierken alone.

  Eris watched Tierken heft another piece of wood onto the fire. His face was harder, the strange golden eyes warier, her grandson resembling Merench more now, despite having inherited Lyess’s colouring. Eris put aside the herb she’d been grinding and rested her hands on her knees. They looked very old, even to her.

  ‘It’s good to be here,’ said Tierken with a sigh.

  ‘Don’t you like being Feailner?’ asked Eris.

  ‘What man wouldn’t like being Feailner?’ asked Tierken. ‘Life on the Sarsalin is good, but Sarnia? Nothing’s simple there.’

  ‘You knew the Marken wouldn’t welcome you,’ said Eris. ‘What of the traders?’

  ‘The traders are happy if the city is administered well – which it is, thanks mainly to Farid,’ said Tierken.

  ‘Your patrols ensure that all is secure so that he can administer well,’ Eris pointed out. ‘But you obviously didn’t visit to speak of Farid. So tell me about Kira.’

  ‘I thought you’d know everything already,’ said Tierken.

  ‘The Kessomi patrolmen report what’s said on patrol and in Sarnia, but I presume you’ve come to tell me the truth.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t come to please Rosham,’ said Tierken dryly. ‘Kira claims to be Kasheron’s seed; that Kasheron didn’t go north, but to the southern forests, establishing a healing community there. Her people, the Tremen, are now under Shargh attack and she’s called on the kin-link to gain aid.’

  ‘Which you’ve refused?’

  ‘She can’t be kin.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Eris. ‘She’s certainly similar enough to you, and speaks like a Kessomi.’

  ‘You know Terak histories as well as I do.’

  ‘I also know Terak prejudices, such as their dislike of anything Kessomi, including healing. So, you deny her people, but still she looks upon you with love.’

  Tierken’s eyes flashed to hers, brilliant in the firelight, a change she hadn’t seen since he was a small boy.

  ‘It’s a strange thing to find the other half of yourself,’ he said.

  ‘But not comfortable – for either of you.’

  ‘We’ve had our share of arguments,’ acknowledged Tierken. ‘Her people have a long hatred for the Terak Kutan, as they call us, and for the metal we carry, their way being to heal. Their most powerful Healer becomes their Leader.’ He paused. ‘Kira says she’s the Tremen Leader.’

  ‘The fact that she’s from a healing community further supports her claim. And if she’s Leader, she’d have a thorough knowing of her histories,’ replied Eris.

  ‘A thorough knowing of histories that contradict most of ours,’ said Tierken. ‘One set of Writings is wrong, and I don’t believe it’s the Terak’s. Most of what else she claims is explicable by her people entering the forests when we were all exeal.’

  ‘So what do you intend, Tierken?’

  ‘To marry her.’

  Eris wasn’t surprised, thinking of her first son Darid, sitting in this room telling her he was to marry Seren. There had been the same absolute certainty.

  ‘But if Kira’s the Leader of a people you’ve denied aid to, Tierken, a people under attack, do you think she will stay? If you were her, would you stay here or go back to them?’

  ‘The Shargh have captured her once and still hunt her. Kira will remain in the safety of the north.’

  ‘Whether she wants to or not?’ said Eris. When Tierken said nothing, she added, ‘Is it a wife you desire, or a prisoner?’

  ‘That’s not how it is,’ said Tierken, ‘she just needs time to grow used to the city. It was the same with Laryia and me.’ He yawned. ‘We’ll speak of it again in a few days. I’ve an early start to Poerin’s on the morrow, so I’ll wish you a good night.’

  Eris caught his hand, looking at him intently. ‘Will you ask Poerin’s advice about Kira?’

  Tierken nodded.

  ‘And will you take it?’

  ‘I’ll listen to him as I’ve listened to you,’ said Tierken, bringing her hand to his lips.

  Eris remained where she was after Tierken had gone to his room, remembering his long wait for the feailnership. Tierken needed certainty – in that he hadn’t changed – and she feared it drove his reluctance to accept Kira’s claim as much as his reluctance to upset the Sarnians. The next few days would show what drove Kira.

  ∗

  Eris watched Laryia as they breakfasted together the next morning. Three seasons had turned her into a beautiful young woman, thought Eris proudly. Laryia shared Tierken’s determination too, but had the advantage of being a woman, the Marken yet to suspect her strength. Laryia had much affection for Kira, though Kira didn’t seem comforted by it, remaining tense and silent. In the daylight, Kira’s resemblance to Tierken was even more striking, as were her eyes, and Eris found their shifting colour reassuring. Tierken had learned to hide his feelings, but Kira’s eyes hid nothing.

  ‘Does Tierken still sleep?
’ asked Laryia.

  ‘He’s gone to Poerin,’ said Eris.

  ‘I thought he’d at least stay a day,’ exclaimed Laryia, surprised. ‘It’s been three seasons since he’s seen you.’

  ‘He saw me last night,’ said Eris with a smile. ‘That’s enough for a young man.’

  ‘Poerin trained Tierken in fighting and horsemanship,’ said Laryia to Kira, ‘and chooses to live where only dwinhir frequent. It’s a hard trip which must be taken on foot and Tierken will be gone at least four days.’

  There was a knock and Laryia set the herbed bread on the table and disappeared down the passageway, a squeal of delight floating back.

  ‘It must be Thalli,’ said Eris to Kira. ‘It doesn’t take news long to spread in Kessom. Laryia and Thalli were very close as children.’

  Laryia appeared with her arm round a sandy-haired woman who was so heavy with child she looked about to birth.

  ‘Kira, this is Thalli,’ said Laryia.

  Thalli kissed Kira on the cheek but her attention was all for Laryia.

  ‘Take breakfast with us,’ said Laryia.

  ‘I thank you, but Leos and Jafiel will soon be back from the Torlands where they’ve been collecting tanich for dye. Why don’t you come …’ began Thalli, then stopped, glancing at Eris.

  ‘Go, Laryia,’ said Eris. ‘Kira and I have healing to discuss.’

  ‘I’ll come back early and take you to see all my favourite places, Kira,’ said Laryia, by way of farewell.

  The outer door closed and Eris turned to Kira. ‘Tierken told me you’re a Healer,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. When Kasheron founded the Tremen, he instilled a love of healing,’ said Kira, her eyes sheening as if expecting a challenge.

  ‘Kasheron gained his healing skills from here,’ said Eris. ‘Kessom has long been the heart of healing.’

  ‘In the north,’ said Kira.

  ‘In the north,’ acknowledged Eris, noting Kira’s clenched hands. ‘Tierken has told me your kinship claim is false. What will you do?’

  Kira’s eyes fluoresced, and her distress and anger reminded Eris of Tierken, when Lyess, then Merench had died.