by K S Nikakis
Kira kept her gaze on King’s Hall, finding it difficult to think beyond establishing a Haelen in the north. It was possible that none of them would survive the fighting. Tresen, Tierken and Caledon could all be killed by the Shargh, and her as well. She might even die as a result of the continuous taking of pain. The Feailners Sinarki and her daughter Tesrina – who took pain – had both died young.
The Tremen were assembled next to the King’s Hall stables, Pekrash at their head. But Kira was appalled to see first Adris then Caledon, Tierken, the King’s Guard and the Terak patrolmen lined up behind them. She’d planned to speak to her men alone, but it seemed there were to be many witnesses.
Tresen embraced her, joining the Protectors as Adris came forward. He looked indefinably different – more confident, more self-assured, more content.
Kira bowed, careful to not hurt her ribs, and Adris raised her, kissing her on each cheek.
‘The Tain people welcome back Tremen Leader Feailner Kiraon of Kashclan, and rejoice in your safe return.’
‘I thank you for your welcome,’ said Kira, struggling to meet his black eyes. ‘The Tremen offer you our best wishes for a long and wise kingship,’ she added, hoping the spirit of her words was acceptable, if not their actual form.
Adris nodded graciously. ‘I know you are keen to speak with your people, but after you’ve done so, I invite you and Commander Pekrash to join myself, the Terak Feailner and Lord Caledon in celebration of your safe return.’
‘I thank you,’ said Kira.
Adris nodded again and Kira turned to the Tremen, sliding the ring of rulership from around her neck, and holding it aloft.
‘I, Kiraon of Kashclan, daughter of Maxen and Fasarini, sister of Merek, Lern and Kandor, Leader of the Tremen by virtue of healing, thank you for offering your service in the protection of Allogrenia, the healing place that Kasheron, his followers and their heirs established, countless seasons past.’
A mutter broke out among the Terak patrolmen behind her, but it was quickly silenced.
Kira continued addressing her people, refusing to deny Kasheron or his legacy. Tierken might not believe it, but it didn’t alter its truth. ‘We have lived always by healing, by the strength of the green and growing, by the ways of life and of living. These ways have served us well – Kasheron’s ways have served us well!’
Tresen’s eyes burned into hers but she forced herself to scan all the faces of the men.
‘Healing gives life, mends bones, eases the old on their final journey, but it can’t turn aside the sword. Only metal can defeat metal. If we are to have Shelter again, to reclaim Allogrenia, to live without fear for those we love and for ourselves, we must use the weapons of those who seek to destroy us. We must either fight for Allogrenia, for what Kasheron built, or surrender it.
‘This is a bitter realisation, I know, and one I’ve struggled with. But we are not alone. The hatred of those who would destroy us is directed at others as well. We do not fight just for ourselves but for them, and they fight for us.
‘You’ve been welcomed to the Tain lands by King Adris, whose people suffer as we do, and will fight with the Tain troopsmen. The Tain have a long treaty of friendship and aid with the Terak Kirillian. The Terak Kirillian, whose lands lie in the north, will also fight.
‘The Terak Feailner’s men rescued me from the Shargh, and the northern city of Sarnia has been generous in its hospitality towards me. The Terak Feailner and his men have given me safe escort south so that I could meet with you.’
A wave of speech erupted among the Tremen. Those who hadn’t noticed Tierken before now stared at him and the patrolmen openly. The Tremen were unskilled in hiding their feelings, their faces showing astonishment at his likeness to her, anger and distrust.
Kira waited for the hubbub to die down then continued. ‘Shortly, the Terak Feailner, King Adris, Lord Caledon – whose wisdom has guided our path so far – Commander Pekrash and I, will discuss what is to come. Then I will return north, for the northern city has need of a Haelen to heal those who’ll suffer injury in the coming fighting.’
Kira looked at each Tremen face in turn, imprinting them in her memory.
‘I thank Commander Pekrash for leading you out of the southern forests, and I thank him for his part in what is to come. May the alwaysgreen Shelter you and guide your way; may its shadow bring you home again, lest …’
Kira faltered. How could the alwaysgreen protect them against swords?
Pekrash filled the silence by shouting orders, and feet scuffed the paving as they moved off. The King’s Guard and Terak patrolmen dispersed also, Marin’s gruff voice issuing curt instructions.
‘I’ll go back to the Sanctum and relieve Arlen,’ said Tresen, coming to her side. ‘The Tain Guard who came south with you isn’t any better.’
‘Remas?’ asked Kira, appalled that she’d neglected to tend him. ‘I should have –’
‘Taken his pain? You’ve got enough of your own,’ said Tresen.
‘But –’
Tresen raised his hand. ‘You don’t need to do everything, Kira, as I’ve often said. The Tain King now awaits you. You spoke well,’ he added softly, kissing her cheek.
Despite Adris’s suggestion that the meal was to celebrate Kira’s return, most of the conversation concentrated on the attacks, the movement of the Shargh, and how their own men would be deployed, supplied with food and the horses cared for. Caledon translated for Pekrash and, despite this, Pekrash was better informed and more skilled in all of the areas under discussion than Kira. Her thoughts increasingly went to Remas as she picked at her food.
Finally the serving man replaced the empty platters with the fruit and ale that marked the end of a Tain meal and Kira stood carefully so as not to jar her ribs.
‘I thank you for the honour you’ve accorded me, King Adris,’ she said. ‘I beg leave to return to the Sanctum to tend Guard Leader Remas and others who were injured on the journey south.’
‘By all means,’ said Adris.
‘Please excuse me for a moment also,’ said Tierken, pushing back his chair. ‘I need speech with the Tremen Leader.’
Tierken followed Kira out, the room silent as he pulled the door closed behind them.
‘I’ve not authorised the building of any Haelen in Sarnia, Kira.’
‘I’m not building one. I’ll convert the abandoned stable near the gate,’ she said.
‘Sarnia has no need of healing, nor welcomes it.’
‘Sarnia won’t welcome its young men dying either, Tierken. Where are you going to send the wounded? Kessom? How’s a bier to traverse the Tiar Lookround?’
‘The fighting will remain on the southern Sarsalin, and the wounded be brought here.’
‘That’s not what Caledon believes,’ said Kira.
‘Lord Caledon doesn’t know everything.’
‘Neither do you, Tierken,’ said Kira. ‘If he’s wrong, you’ll have a very clean stable. If you’re wrong, your men will die. Which would you prefer?’
‘The Terak won’t accept a Haelen on top of the news that –’
‘I won’t sit idle and watch people die!’ interrupted Kira, moving off.
‘Kira!’
She forced herself to stop and Tierken came to her side. ‘I must return to the meeting, but there are things we must speak of later.’ He cursed suddenly. ‘We never seem to have time to say what’s important, and now’s not the right time or place either! This meeting’s likely to last the rest of the day. In the meantime, don’t do anything that will worsen your pain,’ he added softly. He touched her face briefly before turning back to the Crown Rooms.
Kira watched him go. His need to simply have time together echoed her own longing, and the fact that he had voiced it reassured her.
Marin and his men were at the stables, a number of the Terak horses saddled, the patrolmen wearing packs as they clipped waterskins to their harness. Kira stopped.
‘I’m glad to see you out of your bed, Lady,�
�� said Marin.
‘Are you going on scout?’
‘No. We return to Sarnia.’
‘Tierken’s going too?’ asked Kira, glancing back to the Crown Rooms in confusion.
‘The Feailner remains here. We go back to Sarnia to send patrols south.’
‘Then I must come with you!’
This time it was Marin who looked towards the Crown Rooms. ‘We travel with just half a patrol, and very fast. I doubt your ribs will take it.’
‘They are cracked, not broken, and I have herbs to dull the pain,’ said Kira, knowing she couldn’t take sickleseed and sit a horse. ‘You know the Feailner commands that I return to the north within three days. Today is the third. Will you bring my mare to the gate?’
Marin still looked uncertain. ‘I need speak with the Feailner first’, he said.
Kira’s thoughts raced. It was unlikely that Tierken would grant her permission to go north with only half a patrol, but if Caledon were right about the fighting, it was urgent she return there to make a Haelen. And while neither Tierken nor Adris had the power to stop the Tremen Leader from departing – especially since her men were in the city – they could still make it difficult for her.
‘As you have need of speed, I’ll collect my mare now,’ she said to Marin. ‘I must visit the Sanctum first but then I’ll await you out on the plain.’
Marin nodded and strode off towards the Crown Rooms, while Kira retrieved her mare from the stable and led her down King’s Way as quickly as her ribs allowed. When she reached the Sanctum she found that every pallet in the Garden Room was occupied, but eerily quiet, the groans of the injured quelled by unconsciousness.
Aranz looked up from his stitching and nodded, the blood from the wounded man he tended dripping from the pallet to the floor. Tresen was in the alcove nearest the end, and at first Kira thought he tended an elderly man, but it was Remas, as hollow as a stickspider shell and beyond anything she could offer.
‘He’s not in pain. We’ve given him a good death,’ said Tresen. ‘And the other wounded will recover, thanks to the fireweed and the knowing you’ve passed to the physicks.’
‘Do you have spare fireweed?’ asked Kira. ‘I go north.’
‘You can’t ride with those ribs,’ said Tresen, handing her a single pot from his pack. ‘That’s all I can give you,’ he said apologetically. ‘The Shargh make it hazardous to harvest.’
‘It’s the third day, and my ribs are feeling better. I have to leave,’ said Kira, carefully stowing the pot.
‘You don’t need to do anything the Terak Feailner says.’
‘I’ve made an agreement, Tresen. Would you have the Terak Feailner call the Tremen Feailner faithless?’
‘He denies us, and he denies you!’ said Tresen, taking her by the shoulders. ‘Free yourself from him, Kira.’
‘He has Kandor’s face.’
‘But not his heart!’
‘I love him, Tresen. And I must go north to make a Haelen, whether he allows it or not. Healing will win, despite the sword,’ said Kira, and gave Tresen a sad smile. ‘Farewell Tresen, and take care.’
‘I’d thought this parting would be easier than the last, but it isn’t,’ he said, and straightened. ‘May the alwaysgreen Shelter you and guide your way; may its shadow bring you home again, lest you stray.’ Then he hugged Kira’s shoulders, careful not to touch her chest. ‘Stay safe, clanmate,’ he whispered.
Marin cursed silently as he stared at the impassive face of the blue-clad Guard. He was the third Marin had spoken to, and Marin was still none the wiser as to his Feailner’s whereabouts.
King Adris, the Lord Caledon, Commander Pekrash and the Terak Feailner are no longer in the Crown Rooms, the Guard had told him.
Knowing where they weren’t was hardly useful, thought Marin in frustration. Time was slipping away and he glanced over to the stables, where his increasingly restless men waited. The fact that the Lady Kira was beyond the gates weighed on him, too.
If he’d had his wits about him, he should have insisted she stay within the city, but even as the thought crossed his mind he realised that he didn’t have the authority to insist on anything. She was the Leader of the Tremen—not even his Feailner had authority over her.
The understanding helped him come to a decision. He had his orders and could delay no longer in carrying them out. Going back to his men, he vaulted onto his horse. Then they set off towards the gate as fast as the crowded street allowed.
Kira kept her mare to a canter, wanting to be far enough from the wall not to tempt Marin to return her, but not so far that his patrol wouldn’t catch her before dusk. The mare’s gait was just bearable, unlike when she had trotted. That had been agony. At a canter, the bruise-ease and bindings Tresen had applied to her chest reduced the pain to a constant throb. Kira had a good supply of bruise-ease with her, and could apply more as they journeyed. She just hoped it would be enough to allow her to reach Sarnia.
Arkendrin stood at the edge of the forest, his men waiting silently behind him. The massive wooden gate of the Tain wall was made small by distance, but it wasn’t so far away that he couldn’t see who came and went. A single rider had come out and some time later, a group of filthy northern horsemen had followed. Even had it been night he would have known the rider was the creature of the Telling. The Sky Chiefs had gifted him the ability to sense its foul presence, and to predict its movements.
It went north, using the legs of a beast, but it didn’t escape him. Soon his scattered warriors would come together with Orbdargan and Yrshin’s warriors, who now tested their strength in small, swiftly moving packs. United they would sweep the stinking northern robbers away. Then the creature would be his, and the highest sorcha on the Grounds, and all else he desired. His eyes glittered as he palmed skywards, thanking the Sky Chiefs for their beneficence. Then, beckoning his men, he turned north.
Read on, as Kira’s adventures continue in
The Cry of the Marwing
1
The stable door slammed in the wind, startling Kira. Her nerves were still taut after the journey from Maraschin, despite Marin’s patrol having suffered no attacks and the weather having remained fair, if cold. Perhaps it was one of the effects of having to leave Tierken and her kin without any proper farewell, but it was also the sense of having been watched during the trip, a tension that had been shared by the patrolmen.
The plain had seemed empty, but there had been whole days when the men had ridden with their bows unclipped. Marin had been unusually taciturn too, and Kira suspected it was because he had been unable to find Tierken to confirm that Kira had permission to leave. She was sorry to have put Marin in a difficult position.
Her cracked ribs had made the journey a nightmare of unrelenting pain, and the only thing that had kept her on the mare was the awareness that, given the coming battles with the Shargh, a Haelen must be established in Sarnia. Kira shuddered as she recalled the wounds that she and Aranz had laboured over in Maraschin. Many of the injured had died, but countless others had been saved because Maraschin had a place of healing. But Sarnia had nothing. However, when they’d finally arrived, Kira had been so unwell she’d had to dose herself with sickleseed, and had slept almost constantly the following three days. And she still felt weak now, as she stood in the disused stable, trying to decide whether it could become a place of healing.
According to Laryia, the stable had been closed up while she and Tierken had been in Sarnia, and it certainly smelled like it. Kira tried to wrest open one of the wooden shutters to get some fresh air, but the hinges were too stiff.
‘Don’t,’ ordered Laryia. ‘You’re just from your bed.’
Kira sagged against the stall, and one of the Domain Guard came forward and struggled with the shutter. Soon there was a harsh screech as it gave way.
Laryia’s face was full of concern as Kira made an effort to straighten.
‘It’s the right layout for a Haelen,’ said Kira. ‘The stalls could be divid
ed with curtains and the harness store made into a Herbery.’
There was water, too – provided for the horses – and the stable’s position under the city wall made it convenient for receiving wounded. All in all it was well suited, thought Kira, feeling heartened. But she wondered whether Tierken’s prohibition of the Haelen – healing having long been banished from the city of the Terak Kirillian – was at this very moment making its way north. There had been a constant flow of message cylinders from Maraschin, ordering the movement south of men and weapons. Farid, the Keeper of the Domain, had told her that reports of her safe arrival in Sarnia had been sent back to Maraschin too. And she also knew from him that there had already been a lot of fighting, which made the need for the Haelen even more urgent. Kira winced. The thought of wounds, even those the Shargh would suffer, filled her with dread.
‘I’ll organise for it to be cleaned out and scrubbed over the next few days,’ said Laryia. ‘And I’ll trade for the services of some woodwrights.’
‘Once the Haelen’s ready, I’ll need to gather,’ said Kira, as they began their trek back up to the Domain. ‘Are there herbs near the walls?’
‘The land there’s pretty well grazed,’ said Laryia. ‘And Tierken directed that you remain within Sarnia. He’s asked me to do the same.’
‘Tierken has directed?’ questioned Kira.
‘He wants to ensure our safety, that’s all.’
‘Tierken insisted that the Shargh wouldn’t come north, so there should be no risk in me gathering outside the walls,’ said Kira.
Laryia’s eyes flashed but she held her silence until they reached the privacy of the Domain. ‘Why does Tierken’s wish to protect you anger you so? Don’t men in the forests care for those they love?’
‘I’m just anxious about establishing a herbal supply,’ said Kira, reluctant to argue with Laryia. ‘There’s no point in having a Haelen if I have no herbs to minister with.’ Laryia still looked doubtful as Kira turned towards her rooms.