Sanctuary (59 page)

Sorne thanked her, as if he had never thought she might doubt him.

I
MOSHEN LEANED ON
the rail of the high rear-deck, watching the west and the last of what had been a piercingly-beautiful sunset. According to Ardonyx’s latest calculations, they should reach Ivernia late tomorrow, or early the next day. And then she would have to convince the Sagoras to offer them sanctuary.

‘Worrying about the Sagoras?’ her voice-of-reason asked.

Imoshen nodded.

‘You should be worrying about the scryer. I’ve been thinking. Lysi lives, but she and Sarodyti had been shield-sisters for seventy years. When Saro died, the shock should have killed her.’

‘Normally, but the gift-corruption could have interfered with their link,’ Imoshen said. ‘I’ve been reading the gift treatises.’

‘Did you also read up on healers?’

‘I didn’t get as far as the chapters on healers,’ Imoshen admitted.

Egrayne’s expression told her it was not good news. ‘I did. The part about healers and gift-corruption makes particularly interesting reading.’

‘Is Ree more susceptible to gift-corruption because she’s a healer?’

‘No, but her healing gift is a problem.’ Egrayne sighed. ‘I know you are fond of Reoden.’

Imoshen nodded. She could not bring herself to reveal just how deep her feelings went. ‘Ree would never do anything to endanger her sisterhood. She holds her honour high.’

‘It’s because she’s both a healer and an all-mother that we have a problem.’

An all-mother was sworn to protect her sisterhood. Imoshen looked up in horror. ‘Lysi is draining Ree to sustain herself.’ A rushing filled Imoshen’s ears. ‘Ree’s sisterhood link with the scryer could kill her. ’

‘Eventually.’ Egrayne looked grim. ‘That, or Ree’s gift could sustain the scryer indefinitely, but that would be bad. The longer Lysi lives, the more chance her gift-corruption will spread –’

‘...to Ree.’ Imoshen swallowed.

‘You must intervene. You must speak with Ree, the sooner the better.’

Imoshen met Egrayne’s eyes. ‘If I interfere with how she runs her sisterhood, our friendship will never be the same.’

‘That’s Imoshen talking. You must think like the causare.’

She was right. Imoshen’s heart sank. ‘Poor Ree. Coming to the realisation that you must kill one of your own sisterhood is a terrible thing.’

A
RAVELLE WAITED IN
the passage for Redravia to come back.

‘Here.’ Aravelle gave her the button. ‘This is for you. It’s –’

‘I know what it is.’ The old woman accepted it and pressed it to her chest. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then sighed with relief. When she opened her eyes, they were brighter and more alert. ‘Perfect.’

‘So a button is all right?’

‘Pewter is good, so is bronze. Silver and gold are better.’ Redravia hung the button on a leather thong around her neck, tucking it inside her bodice. ‘Best of all is electrum, that’s why their torcs are made of it.’ Those sharp eyes fixed on Aravelle. ‘Some of them wear electrum rings through their ears or on their fingers.’

‘You want me to steal electrum jewellery for you?’

‘Their gift settles in it and emanates slowly.’

‘But I could get caught.’

‘There’s no need to steal.’ Redravia tilted her head. ‘A pretty girl like you, you’d have no trouble convincing an initiate or an adept to give you jewellery. A ring in exchange for a kiss, it means nothing to them.’ Aravelle stiffened, offended.

Redravia laughed. ‘How is a trinket in exchange for a kiss worse than stealing?’

Aravelle couldn’t explain. ‘It just is.’

‘You’re your mother all over again. Too proud and too clever. And look what happened to her.’

As the old woman walked off, Aravelle wanted to shout after her, wanted to tell her that she was proud of her mother, who had chosen to live free rather than give in to Hueryx’s gift enticement.

She would be just as strong. She’d never give in.

S
ORNE STOOD AT
the rail as the ship entered the headlands of Port Sorvernia. He had bathed, dressed and eaten, and now he looked like an ambassador. He’d checked the children, who were all bunking down together. The younger ones thought their troubles were over. The older ones had made him promise not to abandon them.

‘I am curious,’ Merchant Sahia said, joining him. ‘Why did the causare send a Malaunje as her ambassador? Don’t the T’En rank higher than half-bloods in T’En society?’

‘Yes, but this half-blood has lived amongst True-men for many years. As the Warrior’s-voice, I served King Charald.’ Who would have taken one look at this port and thought he could crack it wide open. Did the Ivernians believe that because theirs was an island kingdom, they were safe from invasion? Perhaps they had been, so far. There was no Ivernian king, just a number of provinces, each ruled by a city-state. This was the Sagoras’ province. ‘But now I serve the causare. She believes that True-men and women will be more comfortable with a Malaunje who is used to their ways.’

As he spoke, he searched the ships anchored in the bay for the distinctive blunt-nosed profile and segemented sails of the T’Enatuath ships, but did not see them. He had beaten Imoshen’s fleet to port.

‘So you know the ways of True-men. But do you know the ways of the Sagoras, ambassador?’

‘I know your people came from across the Endless Ocean over three hundred years ago, on one ship containing seven families, or “houses,” as you call them. Starting with almost nothing, you built that.’ He pointed to the sandstone edifice that ran along the crest of a ridge behind the port. ‘The Halls of Learning are renowned across the Secluded Sea. The greatest scholars come here to study, experiment, debate their findings and teach. If they’re clever enough, the poorest child can win a scholarship and study alongside future kings and queens. All they need is a true love of learning.’ Sorne smiled. ‘In truth, I know very little about the Sagoras themselves, other than that they live segregated lives in the hidden city, at the southern end of the Halls of Learning, and guard their privacy closely.’

‘And what makes you think the Sagoras would offer the T’Enatuath sanctuary?’

‘Two things. Like you, we have fled persecution.’

‘Who says we fled persecution?’

‘You sailed across the Endless Ocean in a single ship that sank just off the west coast of Ivernia. You must have been desperate to make the journey; no other ships have succeeded in the three hundred years since.’

‘And the other thing?’

‘Like my people, you value knowledge.’ When he saw her smile, he suspected he had fallen into a trap.

‘You say scholars come from all the mainland kingdoms to study with us. What possible knowledge could the T’Enatuath have that we do not already have?’

‘That is something I must discuss with the Sagora Seven,’ Sorne said, wondering just what Imoshen planned to offer. Hopefully, he could delay until her ship arrived.

The merchant ship dropped anchor, and the sailors prepared to lower a boat.

‘I’m going to report to the Sagora Seven right now. Come with me, Ambassador Sorne. I’m sure they will be fascinated to meet the half-blood who served the Mieren king and now serves Causare T’Imoshen.’

‘I would be delighted.’ Sorne hesitated. ‘But the children... They saw their friends and families massacred. They had lost all hope when I found them. They’ll panic if they see me go.’

‘Then we will have to make sure they don’t see.’

Sorne swallowed and turned to her. ‘Do I have your word that they will be safe until I return?’

Now she hesitated. ‘It would have been much easier for you to escape alone. Yet you didn’t.’

‘I couldn’t live with myself if I had left them there.’

‘Yet there must be other Wyrd children in other Mieren cellars.’

‘The world is full of injustice,’ he acknowledged. ‘I had the chance to save these children.’

‘And they call you the Butcher of Maygharia.’

Sorne laughed.

Chapter Forty-Five

I
MOSHEN WAITED FOR
Reoden on the high rear-deck. It was time to confront the healer about her scryer. Unnerved by the thought, Imoshen checked the spiced wine she had prepared. Behind the ship, their wake spread out across the swells of the rolling sea, gleaming in the moons’ light. This time last night they had been fighting for their lives.

‘You sent for me,’ the healer said.

Imoshen turned. Hopefully, they would come out of this with their friendship still intact. She studied Reoden’s familiar face. The healer’s features were close to the T’En ideal of beauty: long nose, strong jaw, high cheekbones. But Imoshen saw past the beauty to her dear friend and lover, who seemed fragile today.

Not surprising, considering.

‘You look tired, Ree. Is something bothering you?’
Tell me about your scryer. Ask for my help. I don’t want to back you into a corner.

The healer shrugged. ‘More than a dozen of my people were injured and I was still working with the burn victims from the first night we were attacked.’

Imoshen poured two glasses of spiced wine and offered one to the healer. ‘After everything you’ve been through, you need this.’

Reoden accepted hers and sipped. ‘Hmmm, citrus peel. I like your mix, Imoshen.’

‘Ree, I know you prize healing above all else –’

‘But there’s never enough of me to go around. I haven’t had a chance to work on Ronnyn since we left Shifting-sands Bay, and I know his crippled arm still gives him pain.’

It was typical of Reoden to worry about others. Imoshen gave up being subtle and came straight to the point. ‘Sarodyti’s dead. Lysi should have died with her, yet she still lives. She’s suffering from gift-corruption. What have you done with her, Ree?’

‘That’s what this is about?’ Reoden put her wine cup aside. ‘Lysi’s being cared for where she cannot infect other T’En. Don’t worry.’

‘So you also believe it can be communicated?’

‘When it gets this bad.’

‘How can you be sure she won’t infect others?’

Reoden’s gaze shifted ever so slightly.

Imoshen pounced. ‘You can’t be sure. With two sisterhoods packed onto one ship, we can’t risk contamination. As her all-mother, it’s your duty to see that she cannot infect others. If she was in her right mind, she would agree. As it is, her gift is out of her control. Seeing the futures... think how frightening it must be. It’s your duty to ensure she no longer suffers.’

‘She’s unconscious.’

‘Good.’ Imoshen drew breath. Now came the tricky part. Had the healer made the connection, or was she too close to see what was going on? ‘How is it that Lysi still lives, Ree?’

The healer looked down.

‘Ree, you haven’t been –’

‘No. I don’t have the power to spare to sustain her.’

‘But she’s one of your inner circle. You share a deep sisterhood link.’ Imoshen caught her friend’s hand. ‘Ree, she’s draining you of your healing power to stay alive. That’s why you’re so tired.’

‘She’s not conscious.’

‘It’s instinctive. Her gift may be corrupted, but it will live as long as she does. Ree, I don’t want to see you corrupted...’ The healer would have broken away, but Imoshen refused to let go. ‘No, hear me out. Your gift shapes the way you think, the ability to heal defines you. If your gift is being drained and subtly corrupted through the sisterhood link, how do you know you can trust your own judgement?’

‘I’m not corrupted. Test me and see. I’ll drop my walls.’

‘Both our gift-tutors are dead.’

‘You’ll know. You’ll feel it.’ Reoden caught Imoshen’s face in her hands and kissed her, dropping her defences.

Skin on skin, lips to lips was the quickest and surest way to communicate gift to gift, but they had been lovers, and her body recognised Reoden’s on this level. The warmth of desire pooled in Imoshen’s belly. At the same time, she savoured the purity of the healer’s gift and her own gift rose in response. If only...

Reoden pulled back, a half smile tugging at her lips. ‘You’re supposed to be testing my gift, not trying to seduce me.’

Imoshen blushed. She had to take a step back to gather her thoughts.

‘Is my gift pure?’ Reoden asked.

‘Pure and perfect.’

‘Then –’

‘For now,’ Imoshen admitted. ‘But the scryer is linked to you. She’s not going to fade away and die, not while you live. And it’s only a matter of time before she corrupts you.’

‘I swore an oath to protect Lysi. I cannot kill her.’ Reoden’s beautiful wine-dark eyes grew brilliant with determination. ‘I cannot kill anyone, my gift won’t let me, and I’m glad of it!’

‘I know, Ree.’ It was part of why she loved her. ‘But I can kill.’

‘Imoshen...’ Reoden took a step back.

‘Would you let her suffer? Would you see the whole ship go mad with gift corruption?’

‘I can’t ask this of you.’

‘You don’t have to ask.’

‘Oh, Imoshen.’

‘It must be done, and the sooner the better.’

‘Then let it be tonight.’ Reoden’s voice broke on the last word.

‘Tonight,’ Imoshen agreed. ‘Up here, out in the open.’ Where the lingering gift-corruption would be blown away by the wind.

‘I don’t know how you can do this,’ Reoden whispered.

‘I do it because I must.’ Imoshen searched her friend’s face, afraid Reoden would despise her.

But she didn’t.

Not yet, anyway.

‘I
CLAIM THE
sisterhood.’ Ronnyn revealed his cards. ‘I have the all-mother, the voice-of-reason, two gift-warriors and a gift-empowerer.’

‘Not so quick,’ Sardeon challenged. ‘I have the hand-of-force, a gift-tutor, two gift-warriors and a wild-card raedan. She can become an all-mother, so I think we’re even.’

‘How does this game differ in the brotherhood? Are there powerful gifts amongst the males that...’ Ronnyn ran down as he saw Sardeon’s expression. ‘Don’t worry. Now that our gifts have surfaced, we’ll be empowered soon and begin training. We’ll make our fathers proud.’

‘I wish I was like the others. I wish I didn’t know who my father was.’