Sanctuary (55 page)

T
OBAZIM UNROLLED THE
message. ‘The causare says the sea-raiders had a fiant!’

‘What?’ Norsasno had been inspecting the temporary shutters. Now he held out his hand.

Tobazim handed him the scroll.

The hand-of-force frowned as he read the news, then looked up. ‘When I joined the brotherhood I was taught that every dead sister weakened a sisterhood and made our brotherhoods stronger, but now...’

‘Every dead T’En weakens the T’Enatuath,’ Ardonyx said from the doorway.

That reminded Tobazim. Something had been bothering him since he saw the blue fire. It was something important, and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach told him it was something he did not want to confront.

‘Tobazim.’ Ardonyx crossed the cabin. ‘Our dead have been laid out on the mid-deck. Everyone’s waiting for you.’

Tobazim did not want to go out there. Every loss diminished him, every loss felt personal. He did not know if other all-fathers felt their brotherhood’s grief so deeply. He suspected they didn’t, and wondered if the new facet of his gift left him vulnerable to his brotherhood’s losses
.

Ardonyx’s hand settled on his shoulder, firm and warm. ‘They want you to lead the farewell ceremony, Tobazim. The attack was devastating. They need words to inspire them, words to make their loss worthwhile, to justify their loved ones’ deaths and validate their grief.’

At Ardonyx’s words, a rush of conviction filled Tobazim. And in that same instant he realised the nature of Ardonyx’s gift.

He was the rarest of kind of word-smith. Not only could he choose the right words to say, but he could imbue them with power. Tobazim had heard of only one other living T’En with this power. According to rumour, the playwright who wrote under the penname of Rutz had had this gift. He’d been from Chariode’s brotherhood, too. But no one had known this identity because...

Because he was Ardonyx.

With realisation came understanding. Since the night they formed the shield-brother bond, Tobazim had sensed that Ardonyx was hiding something.

The very nature of his gift.

He gestured to Norsasno and the Malaunje. ‘Some privacy, please.’

‘What is it?’ Ardonyx asked, as soon as they were alone. ‘What troubles you?’

He wasn’t using his gift now. He didn’t need to. He instinctively knew the right words to say. It was only when he sensed his words would not be enough that he added the little push of power, as he’d done earlier when Norsasno complained that the causare had held off calling down the blue fire to let the brotherhoods suffer.

For all Tobazim knew, Ardonyx had been doing this all along. During brotherhood confrontations the gifts always ran high, so no one would notice if Ardonyx enforced his words with power.

‘Our shield-brother bond is based on a lie of omission,’ Tobazim said. ‘There’s something you haven’t told me.’

‘What’re you talking about?’ Ardonyx let his arm drop, looking ever so slightly wary.

‘You’re lying to me now.’

‘That’s rich, coming from you. You’re the one who wouldn’t admit to your own shield-brother that you were suffering from gift-addiction.’

‘We weren’t shield-brothers then, and I’ve overcome it. Besides, this isn’t about me. It’s about you and our shield-brother bond. The night we took the oath, I revealed my gift. You showed me a glimpse of your power, but not enough for me to understand its nature.’

Ardonyx went very still for a heartbeat, then Tobazim thought he appeared relieved.

‘You should be the one to lead the farewell,’ Tobazim told him. ‘You’re that rarest of word-smiths. You can imbue words with power. You’re the playwright Rutz.’

His shield-brother’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. ‘Took you long enough.’

But Tobazim refused to be charmed. ‘It was your gift that helped you convince Kyredeon to take you into his brotherhood, even though you came from the inner circle of another brotherhood. Tonight, when we talked about the blue fire, you used your gift to divert Norsasno. Why?’

‘Anger and blame are pointless. We had work to do.’

It was true, but...

‘Ask yourself this,’ Ardonyx said. ‘Have I ever used my gift for anything but the good of our people? And it’s a flawed gift at best. I could not save my ships and cargo when I returned from the Lagoons of Perpetual Summer.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘For precisely the reason we stand here now, having this conversation.’ Ardonyx shrugged. ‘Honestly, how could I have told you back when I first entered your brotherhood? Then, I did not know that you were going to become my shield-brother. And if Kyredeon had suspected the true nature of my gift, he would have had me killed.’

Everything he said made sense, but Tobazim still felt betrayed.

‘Have I offended you, shield-brother? I don’t want this to come between us,’ Ardonyx said. ‘You can trust me.’

‘To say the things you think I want to hear.’

‘No. I say the things I believe you need to hear even if they are not welcome. That is what an all-father’s voice-of-reason does.’

But even this was what Tobazim wanted to hear.

There was a knock on the door.

Tobazim raised his voice. ‘Come in.’

‘They’re ready for you,’ Norsasno said. ‘And the warriors have been asking if you’ll arrange trystings.’

‘Tonight?’

‘We’ve survived death’s shadow. We want to bathe in sisterhood power.’ Norsasno had trouble controlling the rise of his eager gift. ‘It’s natural after what we’ve been through.’

‘We’ll see.’ Tobazim headed for the door.

‘Tobazim?’ Ardonyx called.

He paused, shut the door on Norsasno and turned around. Ardonyx was the person he most admired. The gift his shield-brother had been cursed with was one of the rare, dangerous powers that could get a T’En killed just for having it. No wonder he’d hidden its nature even from his shield-brother.

‘Are we all right?’ Ardonyx asked, his voice raw.

‘Yes.’ Tobazim saw his shoulders relax. ‘But don’t ever lie to me again. It must be all or nothing.’

Ardonyx looked down, then up. ‘All or nothing it is.’

And they left the cabin together.

Hueryx and his brothers filled the foredeck, while Malaunje from both their brotherhoods shared the mid-deck. They remembered the fallen, celebrated their lives and then they sang. The voices from both brotherhoods combined, deep and powerful, as the blue fire flickered on the masts above them.

When this was done, there was silence, then a soft murmuring as the Malaunje parted for Hueryx and his inner circle.

Tobazim came down the steps to meet the all-father on the mid-deck.

‘I hear you’re arranging for trystings,’ Hueryx said. There was cheering from the brotherhood warriors. ‘I expect the causare will be honouring you with a trysting, to recognise your voice-of-reason’s role as fleet commander. Or will she strip Ardonyx of his command, since we’ve suffered such terrible losses?’

A ripple of angry muttering travelled through the gathering. Tobazim thought they’d come through the attack pretty well, considering the odds, but his brotherhood expected him to fully support Ardonyx. Anything less would appear weak.

And just like that, he had to approach the causare’s ship or admit that Ardonyx had failed.

‘We’re changing course now,’ he said, and caught Ardonyx’s eye.

His shield-brother returned to the high rear-deck to speak to the helmsman.

‘Excellent.’ Hueryx grinned. ‘I wonder if I can lure the healer into my arms. They say she can control a man’s body to prolong pleasure.’

Tobazim blinked, his mind a jumble of images.

Hueryx laughed and headed back to his end of the ship.

From this day forward, Tobazim would never look on the healer the same way. Not sure if he had been played, he joined Ardonyx to watch the celebrations. The pipers had struck up a lively tune and the dancing had already begun.

‘You can’t lay yourself open to the causare’s power so soon after fighting off gift-addiction,’ Ardonyx said softly.

‘I have to approach her. If I don’t, it weakens our leadership.’

‘I know.’ Ardonyx said the words as if they left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Tobazim gripped the rail as his eager gift tried to break free. He wanted nothing more than to open himself to the causare’s power. He wanted it so desperately, he knew it would be a mistake.

‘Fiant take Hueryx,’ Ardonyx muttered. ‘Kyredeon’s adepts will be watching us. You’ll have to approach her.’

Tobazim nodded. He did not trust his voice. Did not trust himself. Then it came to him. ‘The gift-benediction.’

‘What about it?’

‘I didn’t have the skill to carry out the gift-benediction, you guided me that night. Tonight you aren’t injured. Tonight you can join me and help shield me.’

‘You want me to share a trysting with you and the causare, and shield you from her power?’ Ardonyx’s voice sounded strained.

‘Can you do it?’

Ardonyx swallowed.

‘Can you? Because I can’t go to her alone. I want her too much.’

Ardonyx hesitated.

Tobazim laughed. ‘Come, when are two shield-brothers, so new to leadership, going to get a chance like this to tryst with the most powerful female of our generation?’

Still Ardonyx hesitated.

‘What possible reason could you have for not wanting this?’

‘None, none at all.’

And their ship edged closer to hers.

R
ONNYN LEANED AGAINST
the ship’s rail. Down below on the mid-deck, the empowered lads danced to wild piping. On the upper decks, the T’En women had shared the spiced wine ceremony and the older ones had gone to bed, but now the young ones seemed restless.

‘So beautiful...’ Sardeon stared up at the masts.

The blue light played across his upturned face, making Ronnyn, who had grown used to his beauty, aware of it all over again.

‘Nerazime couldn’t have saved Vittor,’ Sardeon whispered. ‘Sometimes, things are beyond our control.’ He turned to Ronnyn. ‘I couldn’t have saved Lyxie.’

‘Just like I couldn’t have saved Da.’

They sat watching the blue flame in silence.

‘I had no idea that Gift-tutor Sarodyti was a gift-warrior,’ Ronnyn said.

‘Most gift-warriors become gift-tutors, if they live long enough. They know the most about the higher plane.’

‘Why would anyone want to be a gift-warrior?’

‘Stature. Gift-warriors are respected. They take an oath to accept true death.’

Ronnyn swallowed. ‘Stature doesn’t mean that much to me. Nothing could convince me to be a gift-warrior.’

‘It’s not a matter of choice. The empowerer identifies your gift.’ Sardeon gave a dry smile. ‘If your gift-tutor tells you that you don’t have the right kind of gift and mental discipline, you’re supposed to be disappointed but I’d be relieved.’

Ronnyn grinned. Sometimes Sardeon reminded him of Aravelle. She was just as sharp.

He search the fleet for All-father Hueryx’s
Victorious
and was surprised to find the brotherhood ship right beside theirs and growing ever closer, bringing with it lively, joyous music.

‘They’re dancing on the mid-deck.’ Ronnyn pointed.

‘Celebrating our survival,’ Sardeon said.

Ronnyn frowned. ‘I see Malaunje amongst the dancers. I thought you said we had to keep our distance?’

‘It’s different with the brotherhoods. Their Malaunje have a more intimate relationship with the T’En.’

They both gasped as one of the brotherhood warriors swung across from the
Victorious
, dropping lightly onto the mid-deck. The empowered lads spun around in surprise, then circled him warily. Two more brotherhood warriors followed, one landing on the foredeck only a body length from Ronnyn.

Their arrival caused a ripple of surprised comment from the young sisterhood warriors.

‘What’re you doing here, Toreon?’ Nerazime asked.

Her voice struck Ronnyn as odd. For some reason, it made his heart race and tension sing through his body.

Toreon said something soft and his teasing tone made Nerazime give a low, throaty laugh.

Several more brothers swung over. Down on the mid-deck, the empowered lads retreated, and a shiver of excitement travelled through the sisterhood warriors.

‘Come down and join us?’ one of the brotherhood warriors cajoled. ‘Come down and dance.’

The pipers produced a wild tune. Toreon held out his hand and Nerazime took it, leading him down to the mid-deck. The rest of the T’En women followed, their voices breathless and excited.

Ronnyn glanced across to the deck of the
Victorious
, thinking his sisters were somewhere on that ship. If only he knew where.

As if in answer to his need, Aravelle came out of the foredeck cabins. She carried a pan and tipped the contents over the side, before weaving through the remaining dancers as she headed back to the cabins.

His heart lifted and he ran down the steps to the mid-deck, searching for a rope.

‘What’re you doing?’ Sardeon darted after him, watching in dismay as he tested the rope. ‘You can’t do this.’

‘Why not? They’ve come to visit our ship.’

‘It’s different.’ Sardeon rolled his eyes. ‘If you’re caught, you’ll get in so much trouble.’

‘I’m not asking you to come with me.’ With that he climbed onto the rail and swung across, landing lightly on the mid-deck. No one noticed. Both decks were filled with dancers, the music growing ever faster.

A soft thump made Ronnyn turn.

Sardeon rose from a crouch. ‘I don’t know why I let you do this.’

Ronnyn laughed. ‘Because you can’t stop me.’

And he darted through the dancers, aiming for the door to the foredeck cabins. When he looked down the passage, only the door at the far end was ajar. Lamplight glowed through the gap. He headed for it.

Sardeon followed on his heels.

A
RAVELLE SHOOK THE
bed-mat, to be sure there were no more glass shards in it, and refolded it.

‘Vella!’

It couldn’t be. She froze with a pillow in both hands and then spun around. It was. ‘Ronnyn!’