Sanctuary (58 page)

‘So what was Paragian’s son doing here, in our brotherhood cabin?’ the hand-of-force demanded.

‘Sardeon was Ronnyn’s lookout.’

Hueryx gave a bark of laughter. ‘My son is ordering Paragian’s son about? This is priceless!’

The others joined in and Aravelle knew she was safe, safe from everyone except Dragomyr, who glared at her. The last thing she needed was another enemy.

‘W
HAT NEWS
?’ I
MOSHEN
asked, as Egrayne joined her on the rear-deck. The children were playing in the sun and Imoshen was just grateful to be alive, but all was not well on Melisarone’s ship. The small, three-masted vessel had suffered terrible losses during the sea-vermin attack.

Around dawn, Melisarone’s ship had drawn alongside, and they’d requested the healer for the all-mother. Imoshen was expecting the worst.

‘Nothing from Reoden, yet,’ Egrayne said. ‘But this has just come.’

Imoshen accepted the message. As she read it, her heart sank. ‘We’ve lost All-father Egrutz.’

‘According to Dretsun, he was killed by the raiders, along with his seconds and inner circle, making his brotherhood unviable.’ Egrayne’s voice dropped. ‘I think Dretsun used the sea-vermin attack to cover his attack on Egrutz. Now Dretsun’s brotherhood is no longer a lesser brotherhood.’

‘Poor Egrutz... and to think, he offered Dretsun safe passage on his ship.’

‘Dretsun’s always been ambitious. He’ll stir up trouble, and nominate himself for causare.’

‘We’ll deal with that when we come to it.’ Imoshen returned the message.

As Egrayne stalked off, muttering, Imoshen found herself recalling those stolen moments with Ardonyx, after Tobazim had gone.

‘You’d better go after him,’ she’d said. ‘He –’

Ardonyx had caught her face in his hands. ‘If he finds out I’ve lied to him about us, he’ll kill me. Gift-infuse me now. I’ll use it to win him over.’ And he had kissed her.

Gift-infusing Ardonyx gained her nothing, but she gave willingly. She’d been afraid the raiders would kill him, and she was just so relieved to finally have him in her arms, if only for a moment.

Then he’d pulled away, with the force of her gift glowing in his wine-dark eyes.

Leaving her there, he’d returned to his shield-brother and a night of celebration in Tobazim’s arms.

No wonder she was jealous.

The sound of weeping reached Imoshen. She went to the rail and saw Reoden return from the smaller ship. Egrayne ran up the steps to join Imoshen.

‘Bad news,’ her voice-of-reason reported.

‘Melisarone’s heart gave out.’

‘Yes, how did you know?’

Imoshen didn’t answer. ‘Ree looks exhausted.’

‘She is. She did what she could, but Mel’s sisterhood has lost too many adepts to be viable. When we get to port, we’ll have to absorb her people.’

‘We should have taken all of her people on board our ship before the attack.’

‘And put them where? Besides, that would have meant ordering Mel to abandon her ship. Imoshen, we may have a problem.’

She bit back a laugh. ‘You mean other than marauding sea-vermin and an overambitious all-father who would use the Mieren attack as cover to murder a fellow all-father?’

Egrayne did not smile. ‘Reoden didn’t consign her scryer’s body to the sea.’

‘The scryer lives?’

Egrayne nodded. ‘Her shield-sister, Sarodyti, is dead and her gift was already corrupting.’

Imoshen thought this through. ‘So she’s –’

‘Her body is alive, but her mind will be ravaged by her gift.’ The big woman’s mouth twisted with regret. ‘It would have been kinder for Reoden to have her suffocated than leave her to suffer.’

‘Egrayne...’ Imoshen was shocked.

‘Would you want to live, if your gift was destroying your mind?’

Imoshen shuddered. ‘You could be right. Killing would be a kindness, especially as gift-corruption may be contagious.’

‘I’ve never heard –’

‘It’s one of Scytheon’s theories.’

‘But he was discredited.’

‘Not in this matter. It was never proven, one way or another.’ Imoshen turned to face Egrayne. ‘I believe the gifts affect each other, and I don’t just mean the tug of male and female gifts. I suggested Ree put Sardeon in with the empowered lads to see if it would bring his gift on. And it has.’ She glanced down to the fore-cabins. ‘Poor Ree, what should I do?’

‘You can’t interfere. Reoden rules her sisterhood. We’ll watch and wait. Reoden is sensible. She will listen to reason.’

‘Reoden is a healer. She cannot bring herself to kill. It goes against her nature.’

T
WO MESSAGE-STONES HAD
arrived in quick succession, and Aravelle caught herself listening for the all-father’s reaction to the news. It surprised her to realise she trusted Hueryx’s insight, and this annoyed her. After a brief mental wrestle, she decided she could admire his intelligence without liking him.

‘I’m just glad our brotherhood wasn’t assigned the same ship as All-father Dretsun,’ Hueryx said.

‘You think he used the sea-vermin attack as cover to displace Egrutz and acquire his brotherhood?’ Dragomyr asked.

‘Almost certainly.’

Unnoticed and unimportant, Aravelle tidied the cabin, collecting clothing they had simply shed as they disrobed. You’d think they could put their clothes away instead of dropping them on the floor.

She’d promised Redravia something small, infused with the gift. It had to be something she could take without anyone noticing, something unimportant.

But it still made her uncomfortable. No matter how you looked at it, this was stealing. If they caught her...

They’d laugh.

She flushed. They’d think she was taking the gift-infused object for herself. They’d think she’d succumbed to the lure of their power.

With jerky angry movements, she plucked discarded garments from the floor. As she picked up a vest, her fingers brushed a button and she felt the concentrated T’En gift in the pewter button. Her heart leapt.

Without pausing in her work, she collected more clothing. When the basket was full, she sorted the things, putting most away and some in the mending pile.

Her mother used to say that mending her brothers’ breeches was a never-ending task. The same could be said for the T’En warriors. They were rough with their clothes and casual about damage, as only those with servants could be. None of them had ever worn their fingers to the bone making-down old clothes for their children, or darning until the breeches were more darning than cloth.

While the inner circle continued to discuss All-father Dretsun and his growing stature, she sat cross-legged in a corner. Heart pounding, she picked up the vest. It belonged to the hand-of-force. She would have known, even if she hadn’t seen him wear it. She could sense his distinctive gift.

Snipping off one of the gift-infused buttons, she slipped it in her pocket, then sewed on a new button.

It was as easy at that.

Chapter Forty-Four

W
ATER CAME IN
with every swell, now. It was ankle-deep on deck and Sorne had decided to launch the raft and tie it to the boat. First, he would send Tiasely across with what stores they could scrounge and the blankets they’d managed to keep dry. Then he’d transfer the little ones across...

‘Sails! I see sails,’ Orza cried.

Sorne sprang onto the cabin roof with the boys and shaded his eyes. ‘Five masts. A merchant ship.’

He’d been afraid it would be a sea-vermin ship and they’d end up where they’d started. ‘Tiasely, pass me up the red blanket.’

Bracing himself, Sorne waved the blanket above his head. The three boys jumped and waved their arms, shouting at the top of their voices, regardless of the fact that the ship was too far away to hear them.

At first, Sorne feared they would not notice them. Then he kept waving the blanket, aware that the captain was probably studying the boatload of children through his spy-glass.

When he was certain the merchant ship had veered towards them, he jumped down into the knee-high water washing across the deck.

He grabbed Tiasely and Yosune. ‘Sit the little ones on the raft and hold onto them. Everyone who can’t swim, get onto the raft now.’

The boat shuddered, barely rising to meet the swells. Sorne turned to the boys on top of the cabin. ‘Can you swim?’

They shook their heads. He lifted them down, one after the other. ‘The boat’s going to sink. You need to hold onto the raft. Understand?’

They nodded and moved over to the raft, which would not carry any more.

He shaded his eyes, judging the speed of the approaching ship.

‘What do you want us to do?’ Vivore asked, Vivane at his side.

‘Find anything that floats. Rope everything together and tie it to the raft.’ He didn’t want the children getting separated. Some of the little ones wailed as a wave rolled onto the deck, lifted the raft and nearly swept it into the cabin wall. In a mad scramble, Sorne and the boys tied several barrels and a chest together.

They’d barely finished when the boat’s nose plunged into a swell and the water swallowed it. A wall of water moved towards them. Sorne shoved the raft to one side so it wouldn’t collide with the cabin, and held onto the ropes. The children cried out, some in excitement, others in fear.

He felt the deck go out from under his feet as the boat sank. Icy cold water climbed up his chest. The barrels and the raft tried to drift apart; Sorne felt the ropes tighten around his wrists.

And they were all in the sea, squealing, crying, shouting and splashing.

Several children fell off the raft and had to be hauled back on. Others just held on. The raft rocked as one of the children tried to stand up and wave to the ship.

Tiasely pulled him down.

Sorne glanced over his shoulder; the barrels bobbed along behind with four of the bigger children holding on to them. He unwound the rope from his wrist and drew the barrels closer to the raft.

Now that it was clear everyone was safe, the children laughed, even as their teeth chattered with cold.

Orza cried out and pointed to the ship as two rowboats were lowered. The children cheered.

Sorne wondered what their rescuers would say when they realised they’d picked up a pack of Wyrds. He tried to see the ship’s flag, but the sails were in the way.

‘Hold on,’ the sailors in the nearest rowboat called. They spoke Chalcedonian, but that could have been because the children had been calling out in that language.

One of them threw a coiled rope. ‘Catch this.’

Sorne caught hold and tied it to the raft. The sailors started to haul in their catch. As soon as they were close enough, the sailors urged the children to climb into the rowboat. The second boat collected the four children clinging to the barrels. Sorne was last on board.

Teeth chattering, Sorne thanked the sailors. By their colouring and their accents, they could have been from anywhere north of Dace.

As they rowed back to the ship Sorne counted heads, then counted them again to be sure. No one was missing.

He felt like weeping with relief, but was kept busy reassuring the little ones. Now that they were amongst Mieren sailors, the children became subdued; their recent experiences with Mieren did not give them hope. Several wept.

When they reached the ship, the bigger children scrambled up the rope netting while the little ones went up in a large sling with Tiasely to watch over them.

By the time Sorne climbed aboard, the children were wrapped in blankets, sitting wide-eyed on the deck as the sailors gathered to watch them. Sorne suspected the children feared the sailors would throw them back, now that they realised they were Wyrds.

A moment later, the cook and his helper arrived to hand out mugs of warm soup and chunks of bread. At this, the children relaxed a little and those who could speak Chalcedonian thanked them.

Teeth chattering, Sorne accepted his mug with thanks. He wrapped his hands around it, grateful for the warmth.

‘You’re in charge?’

Sorne turned to see a grizzled, but well-dressed sailor he took to be the first mate, or even the captain.

‘Yes,’ Sorne answered, trying to assess the man’s honour. He’d been sold into sea-vermin hands by a man much like this one. What merchants valued was gold, and right now Sorne had none.

The man stepped aside to reveal someone dressed in the traditional robes of the Sagoras. ‘This is Merchant Sahia of House Vulpii.’

Sorne’s mind raced. He knew that Imoshen had approached the Sagoras for sanctuary and had not heard back. Sahia wore a floor-length robe and veil that covered all but the mouth and chin. He couldn’t tell the merchant’s gender; they were either a woman, or a youth not old enough to have a beard.

Putting his mug aside, Sorne gave the deep obeisance of gratitude. ‘We are in your debt, Merchant Sahia of House Vulpii.’

‘Yes, you are. How did you come to be sailing a sinking raider boat with two dozen Wyrd children?’ Sahia asked, in excellent Chalcedonian. She was a woman, and older than the mouth and chin made her appear.

‘They were captives of the sea-vermin, meant for sale in southern brothels. That leaky boat was the only way we could escape.’

‘You gloss over much. Before that there was a fire.’

‘Yes, how...’ Sorne lifted a hand to his head. ‘My hair.’

‘And your eyebrows. So you escaped and sailed for Ivernia? Or did you lose your way?’

‘No, I was sailing for Ivernia, when I was captured by sea-vermin.’ He did not want to sound desperate, but the more he said, the more vulnerable he appeared. ‘All Wyrds have been exiled from Chalcedonia.’

‘We heard something to that effect, Warrior’s-voice.’

‘Whatever you may have heard about me, it is incorrect, an exaggeration or an outright lie,’ he said. ‘I am Sorne, ambassador of the T’Enatuath, sent by Causare T’Imoshen to negotiate with the Sagora Seven, and these children are under my protection.’

She studied him.

Sorne held his breath.

‘Captain, prepare a cabin for the ambassador and another one for his companions.’