Sanctuary (43 page)

‘But neither of them are empowered,’ Toryx objected.

‘The all-mother’s cabin is overcrowded. I want everyone out on deck, now. Time for unarmed combat.’

Having spent all morning moving belongings and stores, the lads groaned, but spilled out onto the mid-deck nonetheless.

Cerafeoni turned to Ronnyn and Sardeon. ‘Go get your bedrolls, then join the class.’

Behind her back, Toryx held Ronnyn’s eyes and made an obscene gesture.

As they headed down the passage to the all-mother’s cabin, Ronnyn felt sheer terror. He’d been able to ignore it up until now, but what if his gift never came back? He grabbed Sardeon. Since the only place they could be private was the bathing chamber, he pulled him in there and shut the door.

It was on the tip of his tongue to confess everything.

‘What is it?’ Sardeon asked. He looked pale and slightly ill.

‘I’ll make a pact with you. I’ll watch your back, if you watch mine. Like shield-brothers.’

‘We can’t be shield-brothers,’ Sardeon said. ‘You’ll be joining Hueryx’s brotherhood and I’ll –’

‘Shield-brothers until we leave the sisterhood?’ Ronnyn rolled his sleeve, baring his arm from the wrist to the elbow. ‘I swear on my honour to protect you.’

Sardeon hesitated for so long Ronnyn thought he would refuse, then he pulled up his sleeve, clasped Ronnyn’s hand, and entwined their fingers. ‘I swear to protect you.’ He released Ronnyn’s hand. ‘Did you see Toryx?’

‘Yes. If we were empowered, they’d accept us.’

‘We’d still have to prove ourselves, but yes, they’d be more accepting.’

‘Has your gift manifested yet?’

Sardeon went very still. ‘Has yours?’

‘Yes.’ It had, but not since he reached port. ‘It was...’ Ronnyn recalled the intense rush of power. He missed this. ‘It was driving me crazy back on the island, always demanding to be used. I spent all my time trying to hide it or guide it. Back then there was no one to show me what to do. My mother told me to beware the higher plane. But I had no idea what she meant. How about you?’

Sardeon looked away. ‘I...’

Ronnyn waited.

‘I think we should get our bedrolls. Cerafeoni will be waiting.’

In the all-mother’s cabin, the sisters were fussing over three little T’En boys from Ceriane’s sisterhood. The boys were uninjured, but they looked stunned by what they’d been through. Ronnyn remembered that feeling.

Vittor spotted Ronnyn rolling up his bedding and hurried over with Tamaron at his heels. ‘What’s going on?’

‘We’ve been sent to the cabin with the big lads,’ Ronnyn told him.

Tamaron’s chin trembled.

Ronnyn knelt, taking his little brother’s shoulders in his hands. ‘You have to be brave. Vittor will be here to look after you, and I’ll be coming back to check on the three of you.’

Tamaron nodded, but tears slipped down his cheeks.

‘I’m only going up the hall to the next cabin,’ Ronnyn said, but they all knew the move was much more significant. He glanced over to the three little boys. ‘I want you to do something for me. See those three new boys? Their mother died last night, fighting to save their lives. We know what it’s like to lose our mother. I want you to look after them. Can you do that?’

They both nodded and Vittor put his arm around Tamaron. ‘We’ll be good to them.’

Tamaron nodded.

‘I know you will.’ Ronnyn kissed his brothers. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

When he came to his feet, Sardeon was watching him.

‘What?’

‘I’m glad you became my choice-brother.’

Ronnyn shrugged, but he was touched. He slung his bedroll over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around Sardeon’s shoulder. ‘Me too. I’d hate to move into the empowered lads’ cabin without you.’

A
S SOON AS
it was light enough, Sorne inspected their prison. The cellar was dug into the earth and lined with scavenged boards. The low side, facing the beach, was half exposed. He thought that with a bit of effort he could force the cellar doors, but he would have to choose the right moment. He was not leaving the children behind, and there was no point escaping if they could not get them all off the island.

The tavern door at the top of the stairs could also be forced, but when he peered through a knot-hole in the wood, he saw several people snoring under the tables.

After the capture of the merchant ship and subsequent celebrations, their captors were late waking up. The Maygharian had to bellow to get them moving, but before long, they were packing supplies onto the three skiffs. The Maygharian’s banner now hung from the tallest mast of the merchant ship. They appeared to be stocking all their sailing vessels, which did not fill him with hope.

It was not like he could put to sea with twenty children in an open rowboat. That morning, no one remembered to feed them, and the children resorted to eating raw potatoes and carrots, and chewing on grain. Since they’d run out of water, Sorne gave them ale. It was mild, but it made them sleepy. And then, of course, they had to pee and filled the buckets.

It was almost mid-afternoon by the time the tavern door opened and a shaft of light came down the cellar steps.

The Maygharian entered, carrying a lantern. One of his men followed, his hand on his sword hilt, and the old woman carried a pot and a basket of bread scraps. The two biggest boys, brothers Vivore and Vivane, were sent to take the buckets away and bring down fresh ones. Meanwhile, the Maygharian hung the lantern and beckoned Sorne.

As he ducked his head to step under a beam, the swordsman kicked him in the back of the knee and he fell at the Maygharian’s feet.

‘No, don’t get up,’ he told Sorne, then gestured to the swordsman. ‘Pass me one of those brats. The little one over there will do.’

The swordsman picked her up by the back of her shirt like a kitten and tossed her to the Maygharian. She flew through the air with a shriek.

The Maygharian caught her and held her in front of Sorne. ‘I’ve got plenty of exotics, but only one Warrior’s-voice. If you give me trouble, I’ll kill this one, or another one. I don’t mind which. If you give me trouble a second time, I’ll kill two of them. You get my drift?’

Sorne nodded, keeping his head lowered.

‘Good.’ He tossed the child aside.

She rolled and came to her knees sobbing. The rest of the children crowded around her, consoling her. Then they drew her over to Tiasely, who was doling out the scraps. There was no fighting; they waited patiently.

‘I’m going away for a few days,’ the Maygharian said. ‘But I’m taking the skiffs and the merchant vessel. Don’t you even think of escaping. I know this island like the back of my hand, so there’s no point running off.’ He gestured to the old woman. ‘This is Loris. If I come back and find you’ve hurt her, I’ll let my men take the pretty girl and do what they’ve been wanting to do all along.’

Sorne nodded again.

After they’d gone, he sat on the steps and rubbed his face, feeling overwhelmed. He couldn’t take twenty-two children out on the open sea in a ten-man rowboat. It would be suicidal. And running away was pointless. What he really needed was one of the skiffs the Maygharian was taking with them.

Tiasely brought him a crust of bread.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Tell the oldest and most sensible of the children to come over here.’

She returned with seven youngsters who looked to be ten years of age or older. Apart from the T’En girl, they were all Malaunje. ‘Can any of you sail a boat?’

‘He’s taking all the ships,’ the T’En girl said.

‘But he isn’t taking the rowboat.’

‘You’d put twenty-two children in a rowboat? That’d be awfully crowded.’

‘It would,’ Sorne agreed. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Yosune.’

‘Well, Yosune, I’d put twenty-two children in a rowboat and take you all to the nearest uninhabited island to make him think we’ve sailed off. Then, when they came back, I’d steal the smallest skiff. Does anyone here know how to handle a boat?’

They all looked at each other.

‘We’re from a winery,’ Vivane said, gesturing to himself and his brother, ‘but we used to fish on the river.’

‘That’s a start,’ Sorne said. ‘Anyone else?’

They shook their heads.

‘When would we go?’ Tiasely asked.

‘We’d have to escape just before they returned from the raid,’ Sorne said. ‘Then I’d come back here. If last night is anything to go by, they’ll celebrate and get drunk. That’ll be the best time to steal the skiff.’

‘But how do we know when they’re due to come back?’ Yosune asked.

‘We’ll watch the old woman. She’ll know.’

‘They’re leaving,’ one of the smaller boys said.

All the children ran to the cellar doors. The tallest climbed up to peer through the gaps in the panels.

Sorne watched the Maygharian put to sea with his fleet of the skiffs and his merchant vessel flagship. Half a dozen children, a very pregnant woman, three old men, the tavern keeper Loris and a girl of about fourteen waved them off. Every able-bodied man and woman had gone on the raid.

As though released from work, those left behind spent the afternoon frolicking on the beach. The children played, while the old folk and pregnant woman watched. They all went to bed early.

It was the perfect opportunity, but Sorne had to time their escape. Too soon and the children would be left exposed on an uninhabited island. Too late and the Maygharian and his cut-throats would return.

And even if he timed it perfectly, slipped back and stole a small skiff... Sorne had a theoretical knowledge of the sea. He’d watched captains plot courses. He’d watched first mates bellow orders to sailors, to lower or raise sails. He knew how to tack before the wind. He knew Ivernia lay to the south-west and the port of Sorvernia, which was home to the Sagoras, lay halfway down the southern island.

If he put to sea in a skiff with these children they could all die.

But if he didn’t...

K
NOWING THEY WEREN’T
welcome, Ronnyn and Sardeon had slipped into the empowered lads’ cabin late when everyone had already spread out their bed-mats. As soon as Ronnyn opened the cabin door, the feel of so many gifts packed into one chamber hit him.

It was powerful and raw, and it should have triggered his own gift, but nothing happened. It frustrated him, but more than that it frightened him. He felt robbed, as if he’d lost the ability to speak; he could still hear and understand, just not communicate.

Several of the lads were still awake, playing cards. Vittor nodded to them, then laid down his cards one-handed. ‘I claim the sisterhood. I have the all-mother, both seconds and a gift-tutor.’

The others laughed and threw in their cards.

In another corner, two lads arm-wrestled. Toryx spoke to his friends and they all cast Ronnyn and Sardeon filthy looks.

There was not a lot of floor space left. Ronnyn chose a spot against the wall, near the door to the bathing chamber, and they unrolled their bed-mats.

The laughter and talk went on for a long time. Ronnyn lay still and pretended to sleep. He didn’t think Sardeon was asleep either. At one point he woke because the tang of gift was so strong on the air. He heard muttering and realised one of the lads was having a bad dream and his gift had surged in response to his nightmare.

Ronnyn put his arm over his head but he couldn’t escape the pall of power that surrounded him.

Chapter Thirty-Two

T
HAT NIGHT, WHEN
Sorne lay down to sleep, the little ones wanted to be next to him. The ones furthest from him would wake, climb over the sleeping bodies and wriggle in beside him. After a while, the child who had been shoved to the edge would wake and the process would be replayed. It happened over and over. He didn’t mind. It meant he slept lightly and was awake when the raiders arrived.

The Maygharian’s second had been wise to suspect trickery. The first Sorne knew of it was when he heard a shriek from above. It cut off abruptly, followed by a thump and heavy footsteps.

Deep voices spoke, their words indistinct.

Sorne slipped from the tangle of children and climbed the steps to peer into the tavern. Someone had lit a lamp. He saw the old woman, Loris, sitting on a chair, her face obscured by a man’s broad shoulders.

‘Tell us,’ the man ordered. When he didn’t like her response, he slapped her and stepped back.

Blood covered her mouth, chin and chest, but anger burned in her pale blue eyes as another raider stepped into view.

‘It’s really simple,’ the second man said. ‘We know the Maygharian sea-king has been successful. We want to know where he keeps his spoils. You’ll tell us before we’re finished, so save yourself the pain and tell us now.’

‘And then you’ll kill me. Why should I tell you a thing?’ She spat a gob of bloody phlegm at him.

He swore and back-handed her, knocking her off the chair.

Sorne heard whimpers behind him and hurried down the steps. He gathered Tiasely, Yosune and the two big boys. ‘Take the children into the shadows. Hide. Bad men have come.’

Then he returned to the top of the stairs to peer through the crack. He spotted four raiders and the old woman. Of the three old men who usually slept on the tavern floor, only one was present. He lay in an ever-widening puddle of blood.

Hopefully, the other two had slipped out to warn the women and children.

Even as Sorne thought this, a fifth man returned. ‘They got away, but there’s cunny here. I found this.’ He held up a pale night gown and sniffed it. ‘Still warm, smells of –’ He broke off as two of the raiders launched themselves out the back steps, and he followed, yelling that he wanted his share. Sorne could hear their taunts as they searched the nearby buildings.

This left the leader and his brute.

The leader cursed and turned.

Loris had grabbed a knife from somewhere. She sprang for him, slashing his chest.

Sorne threw his shoulder at the door, felt it give. Slammed into it again and stumbled into the tavern.

The leader grappled with Loris, his chest bleeding freely. The brute turned to Sorne. Seeing a white-haired, one-eyed half-blood come out of nowhere, he stood stunned for a heartbeat.