The thin all-father was wound tight as a coil and he took a place as far as possible from Kyredeon. That’s right; his brotherhood shared Kyredeon’s ship. Hueryx’s hand-of-force leaned close to say something and the all-father glanced to Imoshen. In that moment she read his intention. He was going to confront her.
All-father Paragian and his seconds joined them. Paragian had also stood against her for the role of causare. He was popular and it was only because the brotherhoods had split their votes that she had won the role. From Paragian’s triumvirate she sensed determination.
Brash young All-father Saskeyne and his seconds were one step behind Paragian. She sensed no menace from him, but he had sent his warriors out to steal the banners of King Charald’s army. This had triggered reprisals against their estates. Saskeyne was swift to act and did not consider the ramifications.
That was all the large brotherhoods, leaving only the four lesser brotherhoods, three more all-fathers and Scholar Hakonnyn, who represented Tamaron’s brotherhood. These three triumvirates were on edge. The lesser brotherhoods were always defending themselves against takeovers by one of the big four.
The brotherhood leaders shifted, eyeing each other uneasily. Imoshen didn’t need her gift to know the over-crowding on the ships would trigger duels and rekindle old feuds.
Hueryx drew breath to speak and she knew he was going to challenge her leadership.
‘I propose we make a vow for the duration of the voyage,’ Imoshen said, forestalling him.
‘What kind of vow?’ Paragian asked.
‘No inter-brotherhood or sisterhood rivalry.’ She knew this would please the lesser brotherhoods and protect Hueryx from Kyredeon.
‘I support this vow,’ Hueryx said.
‘I’d give this vow,’ Paragian conceded, ‘but only if all of us give it.’
‘We must be united. Distrust breeds distrust,’ Imoshen said. ‘We must all make sacrifices for the good of the T’Enatuath.’
The brotherhood leaders stiffened. The jewelled clips that held their long hair in place glinted in the lantern light. Imoshen’s heart sank as she read them. They were too intent on personal stature and the fate of their brotherhoods to see the fate of the T’Enatuath. Although they’d had half a year to come to terms with exile, they did not want to make concessions, let alone sacrifices.
Once before she had confronted them about this, and now it was time to make her point.
Imoshen stepped forward.
The others drew in a collective breath as she took her ceremonial knife from her belt. Reaching around behind her, Imoshen grasped her long plait. The T’En only cut their hair when they believed they were going to die in battle, or when a choice-mother sent her son to his brotherhood. On that day, she cut his hair to symbolise that he was dead to her.
Imoshen’s hair was down to her knees, but to be truly fashionable, it should have been long enough to walk on. The elaborate styles which took so long to create were a sign of the T’En’s high stature.
Holding the braid at breast level, she began sawing through her hair.
‘With this sacrifice, I mourn the loss of the Celestial City,’ she said. ‘I mourn the loss of the warriors who fell protecting us, and the scholars who remained in the crypts because they could not face exile. I mourn the Malaunje innocents, who were murdered the night the Mieren invaded the city. I mourn our people who did not make it to Port Mirror-on-Sea but were murdered on their estates or on the road. I mourn those who died to defend the wharf when the people of the slums attacked us.’
Finally the knife severed her hair and she lifted the long plait, holding it in front of her.
Imoshen walked over to the brazier. Her short, uneven hair sat around her shoulders, stirring in the updrafts from the brazier like a living thing. Her gift sang under her skin, riding a wave of emotion so thick she felt as if she would choke on it.
‘Exile is not death, it is a new start. I rename my ship the
Resolute
because that is what we must be,’ Imoshen said. ‘The T’Enatuath will endure, but to endure we must make sacrifices. Tonight I honour our fallen and, in their memory, I say there must be no more rivalry between the brotherhoods and sisterhoods. We share a common enemy in the Mieren.’
She dropped her plait into the fire. The sickening smell of burning hair filled the air and she felt their gifts rise. ‘I offer to share my flagship with All-mother Reoden’s sisterhood. And before all of you here tonight, I declare she will not be beholden to me. ’
‘I am honoured, T’Imoshen.’ Reoden surprised her by using the causare honorific, which only Egrayne had ever used. When Imoshen met the healer’s eyes, she read admiration and determination.
Reoden stepped closer. She held out her hand for Imoshen’s knife.
Imoshen hesitated. Back when they had been secret lovers, she had rolled naked in Reoden’s hair, feeling its gift residue race over her skin.
‘Causare.’ Reoden lifted her hand.
Imoshen passed her the knife.
Reoden took her long plait and began to cut through it. ‘I honour our fallen. Exile is not death. I vow to turn my warriors only against enemies outside the T’Enatuath. United, we will survive.’
She was still sawing at her hair when old All-mother Melisarone stepped forward. She had been a warrior before she became a sisterhood leader, and she carried her own long-knife which she used on her hair, as she honoured their fallen. Hers was a small sisterhood, and the ship they had been assigned was one of the smallest: a three-masted vessel, purchased from the Mieren. She named her ship the
Hope
. ‘Following T’Imoshen’s example, I offer All-mother Parazime’s sisterhood a berth on my ship, without obligation. And I vow to turn my warriors only against enemies outside the T’Enatuath. United, we will survive.’
Everyone looked to All-mother Athazi. Imoshen could tell she was furious, but the sisterhoods had to present a united front before the brotherhood leaders.
The plump little all-mother stepped forward. With sharp, vicious tugs, she unpinned her hair and quickly cut through it. She gave the same oath and... ‘I will share my ship with All-mother Ceriane. She will not be beholden to me. I rename my ship the
Endurance
.’
Ceriane, the only gift-wright of the T’Enatuath, stepped forward, used the honorific and cut her hair, accepting Athazi’s offer to share the ship. Not by the slightest gesture did she reveal the rift between herself and Athazi.
Imoshen was proud of her; proud of all the sisterhood leaders.
Their side of the impromptu ceremony complete, the all-mothers stepped back. Imoshen looked across the brazier’s leaping flames to the brotherhood leaders. Her gaze went from face to face, until she found All-father Paragian. The day he’d stood against her for the causareship, she’d read him. He had the best interests of their people at heart.
He swallowed, came forward and beckoned his voice-of-reason. ‘Take down my hair.’
The styles the men wore were as elaborate as those worn by the women. He stood still as his second unpinned his long hair. This done, Paragian drew his knife. Twisting his hair to form a thick rope, he sawed through it. ‘I rename my ship the
Triumphant
, because we will not be beaten. As Causare Imoshen has done, I vow to turn my warriors only against enemies outside the T’Enatuath. United, we will survive.’
Imoshen did not care if the all-fathers refused to use her honorific, as long as they cooperated.
He rolled up his hair and threw it onto the fire, meeting Imoshen’s eyes across the flames. Paragian cleared his throat. He and Kyredeon had run trading fleets and owned most of the ships the brotherhoods were using. ‘Since All-father Saskeyne’s brotherhood is already sharing my flagship, I say he is welcome and will not be beholden to me.’
The young all-father looked relieved, if a little surprised. He cut his hair to mourn their dead, accepted Paragian’s generosity and gave his vow. As Saskeyne did this, Imoshen sent Paragian the slightest of nods and looked to Kyredeon.
The all-father managed to keep his anger contained as he stepped up to the fire and cut his braid. He renamed his flagship the
Victorious
and offered Hueryx’s brotherhood a place on it. Now, if he broke his vow, he would be foresworn before all of the T’Enatuath’s leaders.
Imoshen looked to Hueryx. His brotherhood was safe, or as safe as she could make him. Her gift surged and she knew he understood what she had done and why, as he sent her the slightest of nods. He gave his vow, accepted Kyredeon’s offer and sacrificed his hair in mourning.
When this was done, All-father Abeliode cut his hair and renamed his ship, purchased from the Mieren, the
Conquest
, but he did not offer to share the three-masted vessel with either All-father Dretsun or Tamaron. She could understand why. His was the largest of the lesser brotherhoods. The
Conquest
was barely big enough for his brotherhood, let alone another.
Imoshen looked to old All-father Egrutz. It was rare for an all-father to grow old. She had heard he was training his replacement. Egrutz had the use of one of Paragian’s five-masted ships. He met her eyes and gave a nod. Stepping forward, he cut his hair, mourned their dead, made his vow and renamed his ship the
Perseverance,
then offered to share with Dretsun’s brotherhood.
As Dretsun sacrificed his hair, Imoshen marked the difference in the names the brotherhoods and sisterhoods gave their vessels. The all-mothers had named their ships for the attributes they valued: hope, resolution and endurance. While the all-fathers had chosen names like
Victory
and
Conquest
. Only old Egrutz had broken the pattern when he named his ship the
Perseverance
. But then he was nearly ninety and had lived long enough to know that the striving for stature and power was never-ending.
That left All-father Tamaron’s brotherhood without a ship.
‘I’ll send a message to Baron Nitzane and see if he will sell us one of his ships,’ Imoshen told Scholar Hakonnyn. ‘Now we must assign choice-mothers for the T’En children, and allocate brotherhoods for the boys.’
‘No,’ Dretsun said.
As the all-father stepped forward, Imoshen read him. She’d expected a challenge, but thought it would come from Paragian or Hueryx, or even Saskeyne; not Dretsun, leader of a lesser brotherhood.
Dretsun gestured to Imoshen. ‘I say this causare has led us badly.’
The atmosphere turned icy as the sisterhood leaders stepped closer to Imoshen.
Dretsun looked around at the gathering. ‘I say we had to rush our departure from the city –’
‘To avoid Baron Eskarnor attacking our people on the road to port,’ Imoshen said. ‘But we outmanoeuvred him and reached port safely.’
‘You call that safe?’ Dretsun sneered. ‘We were attacked on the wharf while under the king’s protection.’
‘King Charald has grown frail since we made the bargain back in the spring, which is not something I could have anticipated. I’ve arranged for our fleet to shelter here under the protection of Baron Nitzane while we wait for the last of our people to come in from their estates. Or were you going to sail off and abandon them?’
Dretsun bristled. ‘I say this causare has failed in her duty to protect the T’Enatuath. And I nominate myself for causare.’
Both Paragian and Hueryx objected, but Imoshen read the leaders of the lesser brotherhoods and realised Dretsun had their backing. It was a clever ploy: the lesser brotherhoods were vulnerable to the great brotherhoods, but if they united under one leader, they were easily bigger than any of the larger brotherhoods alone.
‘If we are doing this, then it must be done properly,’ Paragian said. ‘We must call for a vote of no confidence in the causare, then call for nominations.’
‘Certainly,’ Imoshen agreed. ‘But first let’s hear what All-father Dretsun would do if he were causare. I take it you have a plan to save our people, Dretsun? You know of somewhere we will be safe? Because we cannot stay here after winter’s cusp, and when the winter storms strike, the Secluded Sea will not be safe for our fleet. Where will we go, Dretsun? Where?’
She was betting that he had been so focused on unseating her that he had not thought this far ahead.
His mouth opened then closed and he glared, as he realised he had fallen into her trap.
‘Because I have a plan. I know where we can go.’ She paused and looked around the circle. ‘Back in the Celestial City, like you, I was trying to come to terms with exile for my sisterhood, but I was also thinking ahead. I sent a message to the Sagoras of Ivernia.’
‘The Sagoras?’ Dretsun’s eyes narrowed. ‘But they are Mieren. Why should Mieren offer us sanctuary? What bargain have you struck?’
‘No bargain, yet. But I offered to trade the one thing we are richly endowed with: knowledge. It is the one thing the Sagoras prize, above all else.’
There was muttering from the brotherhoods and silence from the sisterhoods. Imoshen knew, the moment the men left, the women would be berating her for not consulting them. While it was true she had sent a message to the Sagoras, as yet there had been no reply. But now was not the time to reveal this.
‘It was not your right to bargain away the knowledge of the T’Enatuath!’ Dretsun protested.
‘I offered to strike a bargain, no more. The details are yet to be negotiated.’
‘We can’t give them access to the higher plane,’ Dretsun stated, and though he did not know it yet, she had defeated his challenge. ‘The dangers are too great –’
‘I agree,’ Imoshen said. ‘So between now and when we reach Ivernia, we must decide what knowledge, both practical and theoretical, we can offer the Sagoras. All-father Dretsun, can I rely on you to put together a list for barter?’
He nodded, pleased that his stature had been acknowledged.
And she had diverted a causare challenge.
‘Time to see to the children.’
Chapter Nine
A
RAVELLE TOOK HER
little sister’s hand as they waited on the lower rear-deck. Her brothers were already there, with a T’En boy of five or six holding a small baby. Ronnyn held their newborn brother, Ashmyr; he, Vittor and Tamaron were all richly dressed in velvet and brocade. Their long, white hair had been styled more elaborately than their mother had ever managed, even on feast days. They didn’t look like her brothers any more. Resentment burned in her.