Sanctuary (2 page)

Would the Wyrds think the attack on the wharf was evidence the king had broken his word and take out their anger on her son? Her stomach churned with desperation. Sorne said the Wyrds were ruled by women. Surely they would not hurt an innocent little boy? She should be back in the palace trying to organise her son’s safe return. Instead she was here, headed for...

Jaraile returned the watered wine. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘Somewhere safe.’ He grinned, looking younger. ‘I can’t have someone stealing what I’ve stolen, Raila.’

‘My name is Jaraile. And I have to pee.’

‘Go right ahead, but if you think I’m turning my back you’re a fool.’

He followed her into the woods and leaned against a tree.

She squatted down, held her pleated trousers out of the way and emptied her bladder. ‘They’ll come after me.’

‘I’m counting on it. I hope they bring every man-at-arms they can muster. I’ll choose my ground and I’ll rout them. I spent years serving King Charald during the Secluded Sea campaign, studying his every move. Back then, he had a genius for strategy, but the king is not the man he was and Baron Nitzane is more a lap-dog than a wolfhound. The only man who could have stood a chance against me has been banished because he’s a half-blood. So resign yourself to becoming my queen, Raila. I promise you won’t regret it.’

She stood and adjusted her clothing. She walked past him, keeping her eyes downcast.

He caught her arm. ‘They all think you’re the sweet, dutiful wife, but I’ve seen your fire, Raila. I don’t know why you’re loyal to that cruel old king. I was there the night he wedded and bedded you. I know he bullied your father into giving you away. I could have sworn you hated him.’

She did. But she loved her son, and Eskarnor would have to kill Prince Cedon to put his own son on the throne. She said nothing. The baron led her back to his horse. He climbed astride then hauled her up to ride before him.

‘I hate him,’ Eskarnor said. ‘I was nineteen when Charald invaded Dace and captured my family’s estate. My father and older brothers died serving the Dacian king. I had two choices: die pointlessly trying to defeat the Chalcedonians, or turn my coat and survive. I made the only decision I could. But I’ve never forgiven Charald or his half-blood advisor. So we have a lot in common.’

They didn’t. She would kill to save herself, but she didn’t kill in cold blood to achieve her goal.

Except... she had told King Charald’s manservant to resume treating him, even though Sorne believed the arsenic based medication was slowly killing him. And when the manservant had suggested doubling the dose, she’d agreed.

She was hoping King Charald would hurry up and die, leaving her free to marry Baron Nitzane. She’d planned to make Nitzane believe the child she carried was his and use his wealth and men-at-arms to ensure her son lived to grow up and sit on the Chalcedonian throne.

Instead, she was being carried across the kingdom in the arms of a treasonous war baron, who would be jubilant if he knew she was pregnant with his child. Lucky for her, most mornings she managed not to throw up. Today he had assumed her nausea was due to the blow to the head she had received at his hands. If she could just keep her breakfast down while he was watching, he wouldn’t guess.

She had to escape, get back to port and secure the kingdom for her son. Nothing was going to stop her.

Unless the Wyrds had already killed her little boy.

But she refused to entertain that thought.

G
RAELEN HAD PINNED
a blanket across one corner of the cabin to curtain off their sleeping area, but it provided very little privacy. While Valendia slept in his arms, he could sense at least twenty T’En adepts sleeping on the other side of that blanket. Only two had devotees like him. These were both young Malaunje men, who’d been accidentally imprinted with their gifts. It was frowned upon, these days. If a T’En’s devotee died, he’d be weakened, and if the T’En died, the devotee died with him.

He didn’t regret binding Valendia to him. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him. But with so many male gifts packed into a tight space, everyone was on edge. And with Valendia pregnant, his instinct was to let no one near her.

‘I miss my pipes,’ Valendia whispered. She wasn’t asleep after all. ‘Would the brotherhood have a spare zither or set of pipes?’

‘I can ask.’

The curtain-blanket swung back and Graelen sprang to his feet, going for his knives, his gift rising in response.

The brotherhood’s saw-bones lifted his hands palm-up and Graelen sheathed his knives.

‘Fast as ever, Grae,’ Ceyne whispered and reached out to him. ‘My... but it’s good to see you.’

And Graelen found himself pulled into an embrace, cheek to cheek. The hug lasted for only two heartbeats yet, in that time, the saw-bones could have tried to create an illusion or plant a compulsion.

But Graelen’s mental shields were strong and the saw-bones had made himself just as vulnerable with the embrace. It was an intimacy Graelen had not shared with another T’En man since Paryx had died. Back then, they’d been young initiates together, at sea in the dangerous waters of the brotherhood.

Now he was at sea again, in the waters of exile, with Valendia to protect.

‘Let me look at you, lad.’ The saw-bones pulled away, tears glistening in his eyes. ‘We believed you dead. When they said you’d come back...’ He shook his head. ‘You look well, remarkably well, considering you’ve spent a year underground in the crypts.’

‘Thanks to Dia.’ Graelen helped Valendia rise. ‘She’s the only reason I’m still alive.’

Valendia smiled with the open friendliness of someone who had never known brotherhood politics, someone who had a good heart. Graelen was terrified for her. Since arriving last night, he’d discovered their brotherhood’s leader was more paranoid than ever.

‘A devotee, Grae?’ Ceyne looked concerned.

‘She carries my child.’

‘I think I should examine her.’

‘I’m fine,’ Valendia said. ‘As soon as I find something to make music with, I’ll be happy.’

Graelen took her arm and Ceyne led them out of the adepts’ cabin, picking their way through sleeping bodies, down the passage and into the ship’s infirmary. Already there were several patients, those who had been injured in the mad scramble to escape the wharf.

The saw-bones led them through to the bathing chamber, bolted the door and turned to Graelen, speaking in an intense whisper. ‘You haven’t been locked away in a crypt this last year. You’ve been somewhere safe. Why did you come back, Grae?’

‘I had no choice. King Charald threatened to execute any of our kind who remained behind after winter’s cusp. It’s not like we can hide amongst them.’

‘But with a devotee? Kyredeon will hold her life as surety of your cooperation.’

Valendia took Graelen’s arm. ‘What going on?’

‘Yes, what is going on, Ceyne? I’ve already reported to Kyredeon and he believes I was locked up for the past year.’

‘I’ve heard the story you spun the all-father. I want to know what happened to Kithkarne.’ Ceyne named the old tithe-master, whom Graelen had escorted to collect on the king’s debt. ‘Last message Kith sent, he claimed the Mieren king was about to negotiate payment.’

‘The king never intended to pay off his debt to our brotherhood. In fact, that debt is what prompted King Charald to attack our people,’ Graelen said. ‘The king kept putting Kithkarne off. When Charald finally agreed to see us, we were drugged. I came round locked up in the crypts. Later, I overheard the priests talking. Kithkarne took five of the enemy with him when he died.’

‘Kith...’ Ceyne shook his head. He cleared his throat. ‘So you escaped with Dia and hid?’

‘For a year in the mountains, in a deserted retreat.’ Graelen drew Valendia close to kiss her forehead. ‘It was the best year of my life.’

She smiled fondly, but she was no fool. ‘Grae, you told me the brotherhood leader protected his people.’

‘In theory, yes,’ Ceyne answered for him. ‘But Kyredeon protects his position and he faces a real threat to his leadership.’

‘Who from?’ Graelen asked.

‘You won’t know them. Tobazim is a young adept, who spent his initiate years living at a winery. He arrived in the city just before it fell with a core of followers he’d rescued when the winery was attacked. The other is Ardonyx. He’s the captain of this ship, and he belonged to All-father Chariode’s brotherhood.’

Graelen nodded. ‘I heard Kyredeon saved Chariode’s people the night the king attacked our city.’

Ceyne looked grim. ‘Kyredeon delayed going to the other all-father’s aid until it was almost too late. That we saved any Malaunje women and children was down to Tobazim’s quick thinking.’

‘I see.’

Ceyne nodded. ‘Ardonyx was on a voyage of discovery when King Charald attacked. When he returned, Kyredeon accepted him because of his knowledge of the sea. The first thing Ardonyx did was ally himself with Tobazim. They volunteered for the exile-council. They were first to arrive in port. They coordinated operations at the wharf and, last night, they saved the causare, the healer and two T’En children. The causare gift-infused them, by way of thanks.’

‘She gift-infused them?’

Ceyne nodded. ‘Singled them out for the honour.’

Graelen sat down on the edge of the marble tub.

‘What’s wrong?’ Valendia asked. ‘They sound like good men.’

‘They
are
good men. That’s the problem,’ Ceyne said. ‘Through their actions, Tobazim and Ardonyx have gained so much stature they could mount a challenge for leadership of our brotherhood. And Grae is Kyredeon’s best assassin.’

She laughed. ‘But he’s not like that. He’s changed.’

‘You haven’t told her?’

She turned to Graelen. ‘Told me what?’

‘The brotherhood is ruled by force, Dia.’ Graelen felt the cold, dead part of him rise again. ‘And I’m the knife that kills in the dark.’

She shook her head, taking his face in her hands. ‘You don’t have to be that person. I know your heart. You’re honest, good and true, Grae.’

And when he looked into her eyes, Graelen saw that man.

‘Unfortunately, those are not the right qualities to survive in Kyredeon’s brotherhood,’ Ceyne said.

T
OBAZIM FELT WONDERFUL
.

He couldn’t understand why the others were worried. A warm glow filled his body, and his mind was amazingly sharp. He could hear with incredible acuity. Like now – he could hear them whispering about him.

‘Should we take him to the saw-bones?’ That was Athlyn, and this was reason enough for him to rejoice. It meant the young initiate had escaped the wharf last night, after Tobazim lost track of him in the mad scramble to evade the Mieren assault.

Although Athlyn was eighteen now and had been with the brotherhood for almost a year, Tobazim felt responsible for him. He’d collected Athlyn from the sisterhood where the lad had been raised, brought him to the brotherhood, saved his life when the winery was attacked and watched over him this last turbulent year.

‘Can we trust the saw-bones when Tobazim is vulnerable?’ That was Haromyr. Loyal, eager Haromyr. If Tobazim wasn’t careful, Haromyr would get himself killed defending their group. ‘I know he’s been good to us in the past, but Ceyne is on the all-father’s inner circle and...’ And All-father Kyredeon hated Tobazim.

‘Maybe we should ask Ardonyx?’ Eryx was more of a diplomat. ‘Although he’s probably sleeping. The captain stood vigil over Tobazim all night to protect him from the vengeful shades of those they killed.’

‘The captain’s on deck and will be for a while yet.’ Ionnyn was part of Ardonyx’s original crew and fiercely loyal to him. Tobazim’s gift surged and he saw the brotherhood as a building, constructed of people with different alliances and strengths. His gift was the ability to sense the weights and stresses involved in construction, and it had never expressed itself this way before, nor so clearly. In this moment of revelation, he truly understood the rivalry between Ionnyn and Haromyr; if put under the wrong sort of pressure, it could fracture the group.

‘That’s just it,’ Athlyn said. ‘The causare gift-infused Ardonyx too, but he isn’t lying in a stupor unable to move. Something’s wrong. I really think we should get the saw-bones.’

‘If it’s a gift problem, we should get the gift-tutor,’ Eryx said.

‘We should get both of them,’ Haromyr said. ‘Maric, go fetch them.’

‘Right away.’ The Malaunje, who had fought alongside them as they escaped from the wharf last night, left the cabin.

There was silence, except for the creak of the ship. Tobazim felt the rise and fall of the deck and realised they were at sea. He knew this was significant, but nothing seemed to matter. He floated in a timeless moment of golden beauty. Visions came to him of buildings: domes soaring high above, lit by shafts of sunlight, bridges suspended over incredible spans... He never wanted to surface.

‘I’d heard the causare had gift-infused them both last night, but he still reeks of female power.’ It was Ceyne, the saw-bones, yet it felt like no time had passed. Tobazim liked and respected Ceyne, up to a point. He didn’t understand how the saw-bones could serve an all-father like Kyredeon.

‘Reeks?’ Athlyn repeated. ‘To me it seems rich and exotic.’

‘Of course it does. There’s nothing sweeter to us than female gift power. But this is dawn, and he hasn’t assimilated her power. It’s riding him.’

‘That’s bad?’ Haromyr asked.

‘Power is dangerous.’ Ceyne’s firm hands turned Tobazim’s face towards him. The saw-bones gasped. ‘That head wound... Why didn’t you bring him straight to me last night?’

‘You were dealing with life-threatening injuries, and the wound had stopped bleeding,’ Maric said. Tobazim felt Ceyne’s fingers on his head. He remembered the blow that had sent him to his knees, but he didn’t feel any pain.

‘I cleaned it,’ Maric said. ‘Ardonyx told me he was drunk on the causare’s power and he’d sleep it off, but he hasn’t woken.’

Someone bustled into the cabin. ‘Now, what’s so urgent you drag an old man from his bed?’