by K S Nikakis
‘Yes.’
‘Well, it doesn’t to me. I don’t mind being compared to a Caru woman, for at least they’re honest, taking traders for their bodies with no one pretending anything else is being exchanged. I don’t mind being called a “dabbler” in things that pander to men’s “weaknesses” either, because I know it’s untrue. I know how to set bones so that a man might walk without a limp; and I know how to bring babes into the world without them losing their mothers.’
‘Who said these things?’ demanded Tierken.
‘It doesn’t matter. It’s how Sarnia thinks, isn’t it?’
Tierken made no reply, which was answer enough, and Kira stepped round him, took off her cape and sat down at her recordings. But her thoughts were in such turmoil that she had no idea what she’d last written or what she should write next. So much for having made up her mind to leave!
‘What is it you wanted to see me about, Feailner?’ she asked finally.
‘Before I go on patrol, I’d like an answer to the question I asked in the Frost Glades.’
Kira looked at him with bewilderment.
‘Did it mean so little to you that you can’t recall it?’ he asked.
‘I thought I’d mistaken your words.’
‘How can you mistake the words “Marry me, Kira”?’ said Tierken.
Kira stared down at the paper. ‘You mean marry like the Tain marry? Wear metal and stay together even if love fails?’
‘Look at me, Kira,’ said Tierken, taking her hands.
She raised her eyes to his reluctantly.
‘I love you and want you with me until the end of my days. In Sarnia, the pledge of this is a bracelet, worn on the right wrist until the marriage takes place. Then, at the time of the couple’s choosing, usually within three moons of pledging, they’ll come before the Marken, who witness their words of commitment. The commitment is binding. Usually the woman continues to wear the bracelet, but you needn’t as I know metal is unpleasant to you.’
He reached into his pocket and brought out a beautifully scrolled silver bracelet. ‘This is the bracelet my father pledged to my mother. Retrieving it was one of the reasons I went to Kessom.’
He pulled her gently to her feet and took her right hand.
‘Will you marry me, Kira?’
Thoughts of the leadership, the need to treaty with the Tain, and the fighting to come, tumbled through Kira’s head, struggling with her desire for him. ‘I can’t marry you,’ she said miserably.
‘Because of Caledon?’ asked Tierken.
‘Caledon?’
‘I’ve asked you before whether you’re lovers, a question you’ve never answered.’
‘You know I’m the Tremen Leader, you know I need to go south. When … when I’ve seen the Tremen Protectors at Maraschin, and spoken with King Beris, I’ll come back here,’ said Kira, scarcely able to breathe at the thought of leaving Allogrenia forever but torn by the look in his eyes. ‘I’ll come back … and stay with you here, Tierken. I’ll bond with you, if that’s what you want.’
‘But not marry me?’
‘The Tremen way is to bond. We pledge before those important to us, but there’s no metal, and the bond can be broken if there’s unhappiness.’
‘If there’s unhappiness?’ said Tierken, dropping her hand. ‘So, you can just wander off with another lover as the whim takes you?’
‘Bonding’s not broken lightly!’
‘But it can be broken?’ asked Tierken, slipping the bracelet back into his pocket.
‘Yes.’
‘And that’s all you’ll offer me? An arrangement you can “break” when it suits you?’
‘It’s not like that!’
‘It obviously is,’ he said with a curt bow. ‘I’m sorry I mistook your feelings for my own, Tremen Leader Feailner Kiraon of Kashclan. I can assure you, it’s not a mistake I’ll make again.’
58
Kira sat at the table, staring into space, trying to subdue her thoughts sufficiently to write. To have Tierken had always meant not having Allogrenia, Miken, Tresen, Kest, Tenerini, Mikini and all the others there she loved. Some small part of her had known that. Her problem was that she’d been greedy for happiness, and had pushed all thoughts of its consequences away. In any case, the choice as to whether to stay in the north with Tierken, or go back to Allogrenia was dependent on winning the battles still to come. And for that to happen, she must first go to Maraschin. She ran her hand through her hair as the complications multiplied.
Well at least part of her dilemma had been resolved by Tierken’s refusal of the bonding. She should be grateful to him, rather than feel that her heart had been torn to shreds. There was now no reason to remain in Sarnia. A knock sounded, but before she could rise Laryia strode in, clearly upset. Kira groaned inwardly.
‘I thought I’d told you how it is with Tierken. I thought you understood what it was like for him growing in Kessom knowing Sarnia didn’t want him, that Darid might father an heir to supplant him; of the harsh winters training with Poerin; of the Marken’s snide animosity; of leading the patrols on the Sarsalin, fighting windstorms and snowstorms, wolf attack and fanchon strike, to earn the patrolmen’s loyalty. I thought you understood and cared. I thought you loved him!’
Laryia dashed her tears away, but Kira said nothing.
‘Well?’ demanded Laryia.
‘You seem to know everything already,’ said Kira, as calmly as she could. ‘Maybe you’ve talked to Rosham. He knows everything too.’
‘What’s Rosham said to you?’
Kira shrugged.
‘Take no notice of him, Kira, that man’s poison. How he ever produced a son as wonderful as Farid is beyond me,’ said Laryia, taking a seat next to Kira. ‘Tell me you don’t love Tierken, Kira.’
Kira said nothing and Laryia caught her hands. ‘Then why won’t you marry him?’
‘The Tremen don’t marry. They bond. I explained what that meant to Tierken and he refused it.’
‘Perhaps he didn’t understand. Tell me,’ said Laryia.
Kira sighed, wondering how many more times she must explain it. ‘We have a ceremony at Turning, which is once a season, where those wanting to bond do so by publicly pledging before the Tremen Leader. Most Tremen remain with their bondmates for life. But people can break the bond if it turns out ill.’
‘Surely the difference between marriage and bonding is not an insurmountable obstacle between you and Tierken,’ said Laryia. ‘He loves you, Kira, and you love him. I can see it in your eyes.’
‘I loved Kandor, too, but it wasn’t enough to save him,’ said Kira. ‘You haven’t seen what the Shargh did to Allogrenia, might still be doing. I left my lands to come here to gain help from you, from the Terak Kirillian. I’ve told Tierken the truth, and every question he’s asked me about Allogrenia, the Tremen and the Tain, I’ve answered honestly. But still he refuses aid. There’s going to be awful, bloody fighting, Laryia, and one way or the other my people won’t escape it. I must get help for them.’
In the silence that followed, the sound of horses came from the courtyard below.
‘That’s odd,’ said Laryia, going to the door. ‘The Domain Guard never ride past the stables.’
Caledon looked up at the magnificent building ahead of him as he rode into the Domain. It had a massive dome crowning its central part, and directly below it the largest coloured-glass window he’d ever seen. It was circular, holding the mark of both the Tremen and the Terak Kirillian, and blazing in the last rays of the sun. Two vast double-storey wings lined with colonnaded balconies splayed out on either side cradling the intricately paved courtyard.
Their Domain Guard escorts called a halt, before one disappeared through large double doors directly ahead, the other Guard remaining with their backs to the building, their attention firmly on Caledon and his party. Such was the honour afforded the Tain by Sarnia, they had been allowed to remain mounted. But honour didn’t replace trust – Caledon and the Tains
were outnumbered two to one by heavily armed Guard.
The doors opened and two men appeared, both dressed in black with silver trim. There was no mistaking the Terak Feailner, though, his Kessomi blood giving him a lighter build and his Kir blood darker skin.
Caledon turned to the King’s Guard behind him.
‘Dismount, kneel and put your weapons on the ground,’ he said in Tain. They complied as Caledon dismounted, putting his own sword and knives down, before kneeling and offering the Feailner a leather message cylinder with both hands.
‘I ride for King Adris, of the Tain city of Maraschin and northern lands of the Azurcades, The Westlans, the Spur and Torlands,’ said Caledon in Terak. ‘King Adris sends greetings to the Feailner of the Terak Kirillian, and to the Terak Kirillian people who have long been friends to the Tain.’
As the Feailner took the cylinder and opened it, Caledon looked up at a masculine, darker version of Kira, and had to draw on years of self-discipline to hide his shock. He sifted his breath through his teeth and scanned the courtyard. It was deserted, apart from two young women on the balcony, one dressed in a gown of crimson, the other in Kessomi garb.
‘By the grace of Aeris!’ exclaimed Caledon, as Kira saw him and raced along the balcony, disappeared, then emerged from behind the colonnades and sped towards him. Caledon was barely aware of the Feailner having turned, before she was in his arms. Though he’d broken protocol by rising, all he could think of was the veracity of the stars.
‘Beyond all hope …’ muttered Caledon, holding her close. ‘Beyond all hope you’re safe.’
Kira raised her head and Caledon wiped her tears away.
‘You’re hurt,’ she said, touching the bindings on his arm.
‘Almost mended, thanks to Tresen,’ said Caledon, turning back to the Terak Feailner. Animosity radiated from him like heat from a fire, and Caledon released Kira and bowed low.
‘Forgive my breach of manners, Feailner,’ he said. ‘The Tain believed Kira dead. There will be rejoicing in Maraschin to know the Terak Kirillian have secured her safety. King Adris is in your debt.’
‘And you are?’ demanded the Feailner.
‘Caledon e Saridon e Talliel. I am honoured to have been a friend to the late King Beris, and to his son, Adris, the new King.’
‘Beris is dead?’ asked Kira in wonder.
Caledon nodded, while keeping his eyes on the Feailner.
‘I’ve heard of you, Saridon, and I thank you for your journey. Farid here, the Keeper of the Domain, will arrange food and rooms for you and the Tain Guard. It’s a weary journey across the Sarsalin. We’ll speak at length on the morrow.’
‘Tell me of the Tremen, Caledon,’ said Kira eagerly. ‘Tell me –’
Caledon raised his hand. ‘Later,’ he said, without looking at her. Then bowing to the Feailner once more, he followed the Keeper of the Domain.
Kira watched in frustration as Caledon disappeared under the colonnades. He’d been with Tresen! She wanted time with him to hear of his journey, of Allogrenia, of how he’d been injured and of how Tresen had healed him. So Kest had got the patrol back safely, or at least some of them, she thought, then recognised Remas among the crowd of blue-clad men.
The courtyard emptied, stablemen taking the horses, the Domain Guard carrying the Tains’ weapons away. Even from a distance, Kira saw that Laryia’s expression was cold – she’d obviously done something wrong again – but none of it mattered. Caledon brought news of her people, of Miken and Tresen and Kest, and now she would be able to go to Maraschin with him.
‘I would have speech with you,’ said Tierken, striding off towards the Meeting Hall. Kira resisted the urge to decline, knowing that exacerbating Tierken’s anger wouldn’t help her quest to journey with Caledon and treaty with the Tain. Tierken was waiting at the window of the Meeting Hall, hands on hips, when she entered.
‘I’ll ask you this question a third time,’ he said. ‘Is this Westerner, this Tallien, your lover?’
Despite her best intentions, Kira’s anger roused. What right did this man – who didn’t recognise her people – have to ask such questions? ‘I’ve loved a lot of men, Tierken. Caledon’s one of the few who’s still alive.’
‘That’s not what I asked!’
‘How many women have you shared your body with, Tierken?’
His hand slammed down on the table. ‘We’re talking about you!’
‘No we’re not! This is about your lack of trust. You think I’ve gone from Caledon’s bed to yours, and that I’ll go from yours to someone else’s! I see your point. After all, I’ve lied about everything else. I’m not Kasheron’s seed, my people don’t live in the southern forests, I’m not the Tremen Leader.’
‘I need to be sure of you!’ Tierken shouted.
‘There is no surety! Allogrenia was breached, the Bough burned, my family murdered. Wounds that should have healed, didn’t. Truth became lies, healing killing! I’m going south with Caledon to meet with my people, whether you will it or not! I’ll return when I can to heal here. The north won’t escape the coming fighting, Tierken. Sarnia must have healing!’
There was a knock and Farid appeared. ‘I beg your pardon …’ he said, stopping in the doorway.
‘There’s no need,’ said Kira, striding past him. ‘The Feailner and I have finished our conversation.’
Caledon was shown into the Meeting Hall the next morning by the Domain Keeper. Tierken acknowledged his bow, then poured him steaming cotzee before breaking a small loaf of maizen bread and handing it to him on a platter. It was a ritual welcome practised by the wandering Bishali and Ashkals, who passed the bread directly to the guest’s hand.
Caledon sensed none of the anger Kira’s welcome had generated in the last evening, but there was no warmth either. The Feailner had chosen to meet him alone – interesting, given that the manner of the Domain Keeper who’d brought him here suggested friendship between the two.
Caledon had spent much of the night considering the stars’ intent, the symmetry of what had unfolded breathtaking in its beauty, but not its clarity. The blood-thirst of the Shargh had brought together the long-sundered seed of Kasheron and Terak, both Leaders carrying the title of Feailner, and sharing the same face and eyes. To add to the stars’ design, the Terak Leader’s passion for his southern kin was obvious.
But what of Kira’s feelings? Caledon daren’t meet with her to find out until he’d gained the Feailner’s trust. Even then, he must be extremely careful. The star-pattern suggested her place was with Tierken, her task to make the two peoples whole. If that were the case, he must put his own feelings aside.
But it was also possible the stars had other purposes, yet to be revealed.
‘Tell me about the happenings in the Tain lands,’ said Tierken.
Caledon began a methodical description of the Shargh attacks, what he thought they portended, and the effects of Beris’s long illness and recent death. He spoke candidly in his outline of the difficulties the Prince had faced prior to his father’s death, and still faced with the Shargh.
‘The Shargh seek the destruction of the Tain, partly because their demise will weaken you. With the Tain impotent, the Shargh will be able to focus their strength further north, without fear for their backs. The destruction of the Tain will also serve as a potent warning to other small peoples whose support, or at least acquiescence, the Shargh will need.’
‘King Adris doesn’t call on the alliance,’ said Tierken.
‘There’s been a long silence between your peoples,’ acknowledged Caledon. ‘No king wants to use a declaration of need to break it.’
‘If what you say is true, the Tain will need our aid.’
‘Certainly,’ said Caledon, ignoring Tierken’s qualification, ‘but the Tremen send nearly a hundred and fifty men who will strengthen the Tain defences.’
‘Healers?’ said Tierken, his contempt plain.
‘I’m unsure what Kira has told you of her people, or of herself,�
� said Caledon cautiously. ‘When Kasheron established Allogrenia, he didn’t entirely abandon his brother’s warrior skills, but created a force of fighting men called Protectors. They’re already skilled at fighting in the forest and I spent time teaching them the techniques they’ll need to fight in the open.’
‘Our histories say Kasheron went north.’
‘I know of your histories,’ said Caledon, ‘and I admit that, when I first met Kira, she puzzled me greatly. A gold-eyed Healer who spoke Terak with the lilt of a Kessomi, who had their fineness and passion for healing. And Kira’s slowness to trust didn’t help. I was on my way to the Tremen lands before I realised that the name of her clan, Kashclan, wasn’t a Kir word, but from Kasheron’s name, and what I saw in the Tremen settlement confirmed my guess.’
‘Such as?’ demanded Tierken, leaning across the table.
‘The Tremen have a hatred of metal and smelt none, yet they have an abundance of northern swords and herbing sickles. They have a vast store of Writings, too, recording their time in the trees.’
‘They could be false,’ interrupted Tierken. ‘Yes, except the early ones are written on paper made from scartch, which doesn’t grow in the south, and the later ones are on paper made from patchet weed, which does. I’ve been to Kessom a number of times, as you might be aware, and seen the healing Writings there, recorded by Kasheron himself. He had a distinctive hand. I’ve seen the same hand in the Writings the Tremen keep deep in their storage caverns.
‘Kira also carries the ring of rulership that Kasheron took with him,’ Caledon continued.
‘I’ve seen it,’ said Tierken.
‘Then you will know it carries the same design as the glass window outside,’ said Caledon evenly. ‘There are other reasons I believe Kira’s people are the seed of Kasheron and his followers. Their hatred of metal, yet acceptance of herbing sickles and swords, is nonsensical, and a sign of a people who’ve lived a long time alone, constructing their own beliefs and ways of doing. The perversion extends to how they remember their northern kin.’