Raven's Heirs

by Lesley Arrowsmith

Back to the Island

  In the end, Owain could think of nothing to say that would get him out of going with the fleet. Aidan had been right - he was the only person in Ravenscar, apart from Gwalchmai, who spoke fluent Turkic, and the only person who would be able to recognise all the corsairs by name. The thought of seeing them again still made him feel queasy, though.

  His boots arrived, and a thick sea cloak in dark green leather lined with wool, with brass buckles up the front. Nidan packed a small bag for him.

  The ships were ready to sail all too quickly - Owain didn't have time to feel too nervous, and he was with his mother when she took command of the Albatross.

  Olwen, on the other hand, was making her displeasure at being left behind very obvious. She rode down to Aberllong with them, of course - she could hardly be prevented. Once at Aberllong Castle, though, she stuck to her mother like a burr, and followed her down to the quayside on the morning that the tide was right, and the troops were ready, and Brecca went down to take command of her ship. Owain trailed along with his mother rather less enthusiastically, carrying his own small bag. He could see Olwen flitting along behind them, trying to be unobtrusive, and he could see Lliros, Olwen's tutor, making vain attempts to persuade Olwen to go back to the castle with her. Just ahead of him, his mother's expression was grim.

  Brecca stopped, just at the entrance to the quayside, beside a pile of barrels. Olwen nearly ran into the back of her - and skidded to a halt. "Mother - you have to take me! It'll be good experience for me - Lliros is always saying I should get experience."

  Lliros hovered behind Olwen, looking apologetic.

  Brecca bent down so she and Olwen were nose to nose, and hissed: "That's enough! One more word out of you, and you'll find you're not too old to be whipped for your bad behaviour. We are in public, Olwen."

  Olwen swallowed hard, and was silent.

  Brecca straightened up. "While I'm away, you are my representative at home, with your cousin Porec's help. I need you to be responsible, so I can concentrate on what I have to do. And you are my heir - we cannot both go into danger at the same time."

  Olwen stood very straight, and nodded gravely. "I apologise, lady Mother," she said quietly. "I hadn't thought of that." She managed a small grin for Owain, though, and murmured, "Come safe back."

  Brecca stepped aboard the Albatross without a backward glance, already focussed on Lord Rhys Gronw, standing by the master of the vessel at the stern. With one final backward glance at his little sister, Owain stepped onto the gangplank after his mother and limped quickly after her.

  Two days at sea, following the coast, brought them to the salt marshes along the coast of Moissac. From the seaward side, Owain found it impossible to see anything recognisable as a landmark. Even if the island had not been hidden magically, it would have been hard to find.

  Sir Bernard's castle was easily found, though, with its little fishing village clustered around the stream mouth - and the sudden presence of three Tiraeg warships just outside their harbour sent the villagers into a panic.

  Owain got the news from a passing seagull at much the same time as Aidan did, aboard the Crow Maiden. "They're evacuating the women and children into the castle," he told Brecca. "Look - you can see them all heading up to the main gate."

  "You'd think de Moissac would provide his front line castles with Mirrors, wouldn't you?" Brecca said. "Then we could have contacted this Sir Bernard ahead of time and saved all this panic."

  The Crow Maiden was towing a small boat, and it was being rowed towards them now with Aidan on board, carrying a flag of truce. None of the rowers were armed. "Are you coming, Aunt?" Aidan asked. "We need to talk to them before they start shooting at us! And Sir Bernard has met Owain before, so he'd better come too."

  Sir Bernard and his son Miles were waiting for them on the beach - and Owain was relieved to see that they had a flag of truce, too. Behind the lord of Lansargues was a crowd of fishermen - and a few women - who looked less friendly.

  Sir Bernard stepped forward as soon as he saw Owain. "You're the boy the Harper said was his nephew, aren't you?" he said. "I didn't recognise you at first with those plaits - and," he glanced at the gold torc that was clearly visible around Owain's neck, "he wasn't quite honest about who you are, was he?"

  "Would you have ransomed me, if you'd known I belonged to the Raven clan?" Owain asked.

  "Hell, yes!" Sir Bernard grinned. "And to think we gave you an escort all the way to the ferry!"

  "You spoke with Gwalchmai Morgan about the corsairs," Aidan said. "Now is the time to do something about them."

  "We did, yes. Where is the old devil?"

  "He couldn't come. I'm Aidan Howell Morwenna, in command of the three ships you see out there, and we are here to get rid of the corsairs. We'll need your help, on the landward side."

  "As we discussed," Sir Bernard agreed. "Come up to the castle, out of this wind, and we'll get the maps out."

  He got the wine out, too, and Lady Berenice brought honey cakes while they went over the plans and Owain pointed out again the weak points in the island's defences. "But only when you're past the protection spells," he insisted. "If Glynis Aide can't bring those down, then there's no way to find the island in the first place."

  They agreed times and places, and shook hands on it. "And you have no interest in taking the island for yourselves," Sir Bernard added, "just to be clear?"

  "What do we need it for?" Aidan asked. "We're here on a private matter of family honour. We don't want to start a war with the Palatinate. The island is yours."

  It had occurred to Owain that he might see the man-at-arms Stephen at the castle. It occurred to him, too, that it would be an easy thing to point him out to Aidan and Sir Bernard and have him flogged - and when he saw Stephen, trying to be inconspicuous at the back of a group of men-at-arms, he saw that Stephen had considered that possibility too. He looked sickly white with fright. Slowly, Owain turned to look straight at him, and then he smiled. The man-at-arms took a step backwards, glancing around for a place to hide - and Owain decided that it would be more satisfying to let him stew. Beatings were one thing - but that cold knot of fear in the stomach, as he knew well, was far worse.

  The three ships turned then, out to sea, and Owain was kept busy. As the only awynwch aboard the Albatross, it was his job to make sure the ship kept up with the others as they sailed contrary to the natural winds. it was a fairly easy job for him - the square sails of the Tiraeg ships were easier for him to handle than the lateen sails of the corsair ships - and it kept his mind occupied during all the other preparations that were going on around him.

  The oarsmen were transforming themselves into a fighting force, hauling damp gambesons out of sea chests, and sliding into chainmail that was slick with pig fat to keep it from rust. Then the swords and spears came out, their edges checked for sharpness and their blades for any speck of rust. Owain kept up by the steersman, out of the way. The sight of all that cold iron made him feel nervous. Some time after dinner had been eaten - a cold, rushed meal - a lantern flashed from Aidan's ship and the steersman brought the steering oar over to bring the ship about. They were heading back to land under cover of darkness.

  Brecca made her way up to the little after deck, her own chainmail concealed under a dark cloak - but Owain could feel the iron in the same way that he would feel the heat of a fire if he sat too close to it. it was taking all his concentration now to keep the wind steady in the sail, in the presence of all that poisonous iron.

  "I'm just checking that you know what to do in the morning," Brecca said.

  Owain shrugged. There wasn't much to remember. "I'll just stay here until I'm called for," he said. "While you're all in the battle." he knew he'd be no good in a battle, but it was still hard to be left behind.

  Brecca took his hand. "I want you safe," she said. "After all this time, not knowing where you were or what was happening to you, I want to be s
ure you're safe. I know it's hard, but you'll be much more useful afterwards." She got up abruptly. "The boat's ready," she said. "I'm sending you over to the Crow Maiden now. You and Glynis may as well be together until you're needed. And Aidan may be in charge at sea, but he's not going to be in the battle either."

  Dawn arrived gradually, pale grey with just a touch of rose, the waves grey under the keels of the three ships. Gradually, Owain could make out the rigging on the Crow Maiden, and then on the Albatross, and then the Griffin some way behind them. To the north, he could make out a line of darker grey that must be the salt marshes.

  There was something else as the sun rose - birds. Seagulls swooped low over the Crow Maiden, as if they knew there were awynwch aboard. Over the salt marshes, Owain noticed a small flock of birds that were not seagulls. As he watched, they wheeled as one bird, and began to fly out over the sea, straight for the ship.

  Glynis saw it too. She had only just emerged from her bedroll, and her hair was a mare's nest of tangles, but she wasn't missing a thing. "Is this something we should be worried about?" she asked.

  Owain squinted towards the land. Slowly, delightedly, he grinned. "It's all right," he said. "They're my pigeons."

  he moved out to an open bit of deck - not an easy task in a ship so full of fighting men and women - and held out his arms. The pigeons wheeled once around the ship, and then came in to settle on the rigging, and on Owain's arms and head, and around his feet. All his anxieties about what would happen later in the day disappeared in that moment. He felt supremely happy.

  "You look like your grandmother," Aidan said. He was standing just outside the circle of pigeons, and he was smiling.

  Aidan signalled tothe other two ships. They needed to get close in to land now, but still look as if they were going to pass by the island without noticing it. The wind was against them, blowing steadily off the marshes, but that was a problem that was easy for Aidan and Owain to fix. Even so, the three ships had the oars out as they got nearer to land - they didn't want any lookout to guess that there were awynwch aboard.

  "You're sure the island's there?" Aidan asked.

  Glynis was frowning. "With all that power being used, I should be able to feel something.... but he's good. There's not a trace. If we go straight in, I'm not sure where we'd end up."

  "The pigeons can help us," Owain said. "The protection spells around the island - they're just for humans. Pigeons don't navigate the same way. They can take us straight there."

  "If we can take down the protection spells from the inside," Glynis said quietly, "the ships will have no trouble landing." She'd gone a shade or two paler than she had been a moment ago. "I think - Owain, are you willing to do this with me?"

  Owain looked out at the salt marsh for a moment, and then back at the pigeons. he was thinking of the last time he had helped to take down the protection spells from the inside - but this time there would be three ship loads of soldiers to back him up. He thought, very briefly, of his mother who wanted him safe. "I think I've got to," he said. "The pigeons will only talk to me."

  "Give me a moment to comb my hair," she said, "and we can go, then."

  The Crow Maiden's small rowing boat was made ready. Two of the sailors climbed in, gambesons over their shirts to give them some little protection - having two of the Talented in such a small boat, there was no way they could wear chainmail. With the pigeons fluttering around them, Glynis and Owain climbed down after them. "I feel like the Goddess Rhiannon," Glynis said, nervously smiling, "surrounded by her birds." Owain slowered himself carefully to the seat in the bow. The initial feeling of happiness at meeting all his old friends again was beginning to wear off, and he was feeling nervous, too. He avoided looking across to the Albatross - he didn't want to see Brecca's face just then. the sailors looked solid as a pair of rocks. The man on the port oar didn't even flinch when one of the pigeons landed on his shoulder and left droppings all over his gambeson. As they began to pull away from the ship, the pigeons flew above the boat.

  They followed the flock into the shallow waters where the reeds grew tall, and Glynis let her concentration go with a sigh of relief. Anyone watching from the land would not have seen a rowing boat approaching, though they might have noticed a few pigeons appearing and disappearing over empty sea. After a while, it was difficult to see where the ships were - all they could see were reeds hemming them in, and the pigeons, circling overhead.

  Then the fear started, and the pressure on their minds, the feeling that they were going the wrong way, and they shouldn't be here, in the reeds.

  "Nessa, is it, and Keith?" Owain asked. The sailors nodded. "Just keep rowing," Owain said. "Follow the birds and don't think about anything else." He was watching, anxiously, for any landmarks he could recognise, though he knew he wouldn't see the island until they were right on top of it....

  ....with a jolt that sent them all flying, as they ran aground on the soft sand.

  Owain knew this beach very well. He scrambled over the bow, planting his crutch firmly in the sand, and turned back to see Nessa helping Glynis up from where she had fallen in the bottom of the boat. "Come on," he said. "We won't have much time before Kofi knows we're here."

  She followed him out of the boat, standing ankle deep in water. Nessa came behind, trailing a rope to tie the boat to the nearest bush, while Keith stowed the oars.

  Owain looked around. "It's over here, somewhere - the nearest one," he murmured. he caught sight of it, half hidden in the bushes, its crude wooden face staring out to sea. Small dry bones clattered in the breeze, tied with feathers and stained with blood.

  "This is - it's worse than Gwalchmai told me," Glynis said. She didn't sound nervous now - she sounded angry. "Let's get rid of this obscenity."

  She set the sailors to collecting dry wood and starting a fire, while she and Owain dug around the base of the post.

  "He'll know," Owain said. "He'll come."

  "Let him," Glynis said grimly. She was doing something more than just digging - she touched a bundle of bones, shuddering as if at something disgusting, and closed her eyes. Owain had no idea what she was doing - he just hoped it worked.

  The post began to rock in the ground, and Owain gave it a good shove. It fell on its face. "That fire ready?" he asked, over his shoulder.

  "Aye, sir."

  Glynis withdrew her hand. "Throw the vile thing in," she said.

  Nothing happened for a while. The salt tinged flames licked at the thicker piece of wood, but it wasn't even smouldering. Then there was a bang, and a brilliant white light, and Owain found himself lying on his back half under the bushes, with Glynis sprawled beside him.

  Kofi was standing on the low ridge just above them.

  "Is this all they send - the pigeon boy and a woman? Do they really think me so weak?" he asked.

  Glynis sat up. "Tell me what he's saying," she said quietly.

  "He's not impressed by us," Owain said.

  Glynis reached for her staff, beside her on the sand - and then not beside her any more, as it flew to Kofi's hand. Glynis stood up, looking worryingly vulnerable without it. Owain glanced over to the fire. The sailors crouched beside it, unmoving, blank faced. There would be no help from them.

  Glynis raised her arms in a warding gesture. She was muttering something under her breath that Owain couldn't catch. Kofi was glaring at her - he had thrown her staff aside and was doing something with his own hands now.

  He seemed to have forgotten about Owain. Maybe he was counting on Owain's fear of him to prevent him from doing anything to stop him. Owain was afraid, and he didn't know what he could do to help Glynis.

  She staggered a pace backwards, and then onto her hands and knees. She stayed perfectly still for a long moment. Then, head down, she began to crawl towards the fire.

  "Owain - stop me!" She sounded terrified now, and Owain understood that Kofi was forcing her to crawl right into th
e middle of the fire.

  He threw himself at her, rolled her over, and lay on top of her. She screamed, and wriggled, and tried to worm her way out from under him. He hung on grimly, and looked up at Kofi.

  "You think to defy me? But it is easy to control you - I have done it so often."

  He could feel Kofi's mind in his mind, familiar and painful. This time, though, things were different. Before, he had been alone, and afraid. He was still afraid, but here had always been that small place in his mind that Kofi had never been able to penetrate. He had hidden his most secret thoughts in that place before - now he tried to enlarge it, to cover his mind and Glynis's mind and throw Kofi out of his head. Before, he had always been on his knees with his head bowed down - now he looked up, directly into Kofi's eyes, and defied him.

  The pain was terrible. He felt sick. But it had been bad in the caves, too. He'd been so terrified by the dark enclosed space that he had expected the fear to tip over into panic - but he had got through it. The pain from his knee had been terrible when he'd limped to the Dun, but he'd got there. He hung onto Glynis, dimly aware that she was still struggling. She would have bruises, later, but that would be better than burns.

  Something white exploded against Kofi's face. Kofi swatted at it, and a pigeon fluttered to the ground. Another pigeon dived at him, claws out, and another, and another. Kofi threw up his arms, and fended them off, but they circled his head, and kept swooping in, pecking and clawing wherever they could reach. A cloud of birds surrounded him, darting in and out, screaming.

  Kofi began to run, back along the dune, waving his arms and yelling. The pigeons stayed with him all the way.

  Owain sank down on top of Glynis, totally limp. He closed his eyes to keep the painful light out, but it didn't help the pain inside his head. Glynis shifted under him, and he tried to hold her again.

  "Let me up, Owain." Even that quiet voice made him wince, and he couldn't move. He felt hands on his shoulders - big hand - but he couldn't bring himself to care now. The big hands rolled him over, and he opened his eyes just a slit. Nessa was leaning over him, with concern on his weatherbeaten features.

  "Are you all right, sir? What happened?"

  "It's all right." Glynis's voice came from a little distance away, but turning his head to find out where seemed too much effort. "Stay with him - there are things I have to do now."

  Owain wasn't sure how long he lay beside the fire. It felt like a long time. The sailor soaked rags in the sea and laid them over his forehead, which seemed to help a bit. The feeling that he needed to be sick gradually receded.

  "Here we are, sir," Nessa said cheerfully. "Transport for you."

  Owain lifted his head carefully, and saw a group of Tiraeg soldiers coming over the dunes. One of them was carrying a stretcher.

  "I don't think I need...." He started to sit up, and got far enough to rest his hot forehead against his drawn up good knee before he admitted defeat. "Stretcher - good idea."

  He watched the tips of the marram grass waving at nose level as they carried him towards the stockade. Inside the gates, there were huddled shapes on the ground, roughly drawn up into a line and, looking down at the nearest face he thought he really would be sick now. He knew them all. He'd lived with them for three years, and he knew them, and now they were dead.

  He felt a small weight on his chest, and looked down. One of the pigeons perched there, looking at him with her head on one side. Another hopped down from the eaves of the hall to land by his shoulder. One of the stretcher bearers made as if to bat them away. "Leave them alone," Owain said. And winced, because he hadn't realised his voice would be that loud.

  "Owain?" He recognised his mother's voice and turned his head towards her. "Bring him through here - and you'd better leave the door open for the pigeons."

  He was put down on the floor, and as soon as the stretcher bearers moved away, the two pigeons perching on him were joined by others. He could feel feathers against his cheek, and those small weights all the way down his legs. Brecca knelt beside the stretcher, and took Owain's hand. "What did he do to you?"

  Owain attempted a smile. "I'll be all right - eventually - just have to suffer through it."

  "There's no need for that - Duncan Mark says he has something for you," Brecca said. She hesitated. "Glynis says you saved her life."

  He grimaced. "I just lay on top of her," he said. "Kofi tried to make her crawl into the fire."

  "And the pigeons saved your life," she said. "We found them all at Kofi's little cottage, guarding the door - but he was long gone by then."

  Duncan Mark took his mother's place by his side, and squinted down into his eyes. "Hmm," he said. He felt Owain's forehead, checked his pulse. "I'm not sure even dwale's going to be strong enough," he said, "but it should take the edge off the pain for you. Do you feel sick?"

  "A little."

  "You'd better drink this as well, then." Duncan Mark raised a second small stoneware bottle to Owain's lips, and he swallowed something vile-tasting.

  "I'm sorry, Owain," said Brecca, "but we need you. You're our only translator, and you know who all the pirates are. Can you do anything?"

  Owain sat up slowly, moving the pigeons gently to one side. The movement made him feel sick again. He leaned against his mother's shoulder. "If you prop me up in a chair, I should be all right," he said. "I'll try, anyway." A thought struck him, now he wasn't completely immersed in his own misery. "The kitchens - has anyone been to the kitchens? Don't hurt the two old women, or anyone who's hiding with them."

  Brecca nodded. "I'll see to it. Duncan, you get my son to that room off the main hall and make him comfortable. I'll meet you there."

  They had found a high backed chair - Owain thought that it was probably the one the Bey used, and the thought might have amused him if he could have spared any energy for amusement. He leaned his head against a pillow, and tried to keep absolutely still. The dwale had taken awya the worst of the headache, and he no longer felt sick, but he still felt as if his head would bounce away across the room if he moved too much.

  Brecca stood to one side of the chair, her arms crossed. She looked grim. "The men I saw outside," Owain said, "the dead ones. They were all from the Raha. How many ships are there?"

  "Two," Brecca said. "You were right - we were too late to catch one ship at least."

  "But if the other one is the Sohar, then we'll have the Bey."

  They started to bring the captured corsairs to him more or less at random, a line of them pushed against the wall in front of Owain.

  "Raha, Raha - and this is Rabiah al Basri," Owain said, "of the Sohar."

  The corsair spat in Owain's general direction. "Son of a pig," he said.

  "Is he insulting you?" Brecca asked. "Tell him I'll have him flogged."

  Owain hesitated. It was a bad insult, for him and his mother - and he realised he'd be quite happy to see Rabiah flogged for it. "He said 'son of a pig'," he said.

  To his surprise, his mother laughed. "Tell him I forgive him, the boar being such a noble beast," she said.

  "The noble lady could have you flogged for that," Owain said. "Be thankful that she is merciful."

  Rabiah spat again, but he was on his way out by that time - and no-one really cared about him.

  "Let's see if we can find the Bey," Brecca said. "We need to keep this brief."

  "Big, bushy beard," Owain murmured. "Usually he wears a blue turban."

  The next two men they brought in had big, bushy beards, but were not the Bey. On the third try, they got it right. Jumail Marhouri Jameel al-Saad was cradling one arm with the other, and there was a lot of blood on his shirt. Even so, he was holding himself erect. He looked down at Owain. "Ah, the Pigeon Boy," he said, nodding slightly to himself. "Tell the woman I will speak only with your commander."

  "He wants cousin Aidan, mother," Owain said. "He said he won't talk to anyone else."
/>   While they were waiting for Aidan to be found, Duncan Mark busied himself with the Bey's wound. Owain closed his eyes. He found he couldn't bring himself to care about what happened to the Bey now. Now that he didn't have to concentrate, it was all too easy to just let things slip away....

  When he woke up, he was lying down, in a darkened room. He could feel warm feathers against his cheek. The room was full of the gentle sound of coo-ing pigeons. They were roosting all over his bed, and anywhere else there was a perch. And someone was holding his hand, very tightly.

  Owain turned his head - and it didn't hurt. The headache was gone, leaving him feeling hollowed out, and fragile. That would pass, too, in a while, and he'd be back to normal, as long as he didn't have to do anything much in the meantime.

  The person sitting beside his bed was his mother.

  She put a hand up to brush the hair from his forehead. "How do you feel now? Any better?"

  "Better, yes - thanks.... Shouldn't I have stayed? To translate?"

  "No need. Aidan speaks Koine, and so does the Bey. They can manage without you."

  Owain moved his fingers. His mother was holding so tight his whole hand felt crushed.

  "Shouldn't you be - doing things?" he asked.

  "There are other people to do what needs to be done," Brecca said. "At the moment, this is the most important place I can be."

  "Oh."

  "I wanted to tell you something," she went on, quietly. "I was so afraid when I saw you in that boat with Glynis, and so angry, because I wanted to keep you as safe as I could, and there you were ignoring me and heading straight into danger."

  Owain shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well. I'm sorry...."

  "But you did the right thing. Owain, I am so proud of you. I didn't know what you'd be like, after all this time - I didn't know what had happened to you, or how it might have changed you - but I am so proud."

  Owain squeezed her hand, tight enough to crush her fingers.

  *****