The Fire Mages' Daughter (5 page)

There was a substantial inn just beyond the Citadel, enclosed by a high wall and manned by watchful guards, and here we stopped for our last night on Bennamore soil.

I slid thankfully off my horse, my legs heavy and stiff. We had not been riding hard, but I was exhausted. I’d forgotten how tired I got whenever I left Kingswell.

“I am going to see if this place can drum up enough hot water for a bath,” Vhar-zhin said. “Coming?” Then she caught sight of my face as I unwound my scarves. “Drina, you poor thing! You look shattered. Here, lean on me. You there! Where is our room?”

The inn manager led us up stairs and along erratic passageways, spinning round every three steps to be sure I hadn’t expired. She threw open a door and waved us through. A bed! I collapsed onto it in relief.

“Send up some food,” Vhar-zhin told the manager. “Fruit, something light. Soup, perhaps, with meat in it. And hot wine, if you have some.”

A tap on the door, followed by murmured voices, someone talking to my bodyguard.

Then Vhar-zhin’s gentle tones. “Drina? Will you let Jayna look at you?”

I didn’t mind that. A burst of magic from a mage always helped a bit, even if it didn’t last, and Jayna’s magic was strong, almost as strong as my mother’s.

She bustled in and picked up my hand. With Mother, there was always an immediate warmth, but then she was a natural mage, with her magic inside her, coiled up in readiness like a snake. Other mages had to summon magic from a vessel, so it took time. But Jayna was quick, and I was soon sitting up again.

“Ah, now you have a better colour,” Vhar-zhin said. “Does travelling always have this effect on you? Perhaps we should rest here for a couple of suns, until you are recovered.”

“It makes no difference,” I said. “I will not recover fully until we return to Kingswell.”

“Then we must continue as planned,” she said. “But we will keep our visit as short as possible. And when we return, I will tell Aunt Yannassia that you must not be sent away again. I cannot bear to see you like this.”

~~~~~

The next sun, we reached the border fortress, with its solid walls and guards patrolling at all hours. The last outpost of the Drashona’s realm, her flags snapping bravely atop each corner tower.

On the near side, a square of land was given over to a disorganised market, a place for Bennamorian merchants to trade with the Blood Clans. There was not much trading going on this sun, all activity suspended, faces turned in silence to watch as we rode slowly past. Just beyond the fortress, a deep ditch and high earth bank marked the limit of Bennamore. We filed through the single gap and dismounted, gazing down into foreign territory. The domain of the Blood Clans.

The ground sloped gently away from us, unmarked by trees or bushes, the single brown gash of the track meandering through scrubby grass. There in the distance was the curve of the lake, the last remnant of the river which had once flowed here. In the centre, a tree-covered islet. I saw no boats on the water, but perhaps there were no fish here. On the nearest shore, our destination: a scattered collection of skin tents, the trading settlement of the clans.

The fortress commander came out to meet us. “There is someone waiting to take you down to the village.” He inclined his head towards a man sitting on top of the earth bank not far away, ankles crossed, arms wrapped round his knees.

“He is one of them?” I said. “One of the Blood Clans?” The commander nodded. “I had expected a larger reception. Well, he looks quite harmless.”

“We have checked him for weapons, of course.”

“Do they have magic?”

He shook his head. “Just an unnatural affinity with their beasts. They are said to ride into battle on lions and the like, but I have never seen one with anything larger than a fox.”

“I have heard such tales. Do they give you any trouble?”

“None at all. We hardly know they are there.”

The man on the earth bank had been watching us composedly, but now he jumped up and came over to us. As he walked, he bounced on the balls of his feet, as if he had too much energy to burn. He was quite young, now that I could see him properly, not much older than me, rather slender, with softly curling brown hair. His clothes were the nondescript type that any farmer might put on for fieldwork. Only a leather necklace with an amber pendant at his throat distinguished him from thousands of other labourers.

He smiled at us as he drew close, a relaxed smile as if he were enjoying a private joke. He bowed, one hand touching his forehead, his eyes skipping from one to another of us. They came to rest on Vhar-zhin, then jumped back to me.

“I am Highness Axandrina,” I said. “I am the leader of this delegation. And this is Highness Vhar-zhin.”

He bowed again, specifically to me this time. “And I am Ly-haam. I will take you to the village. You would be best to leave your horses here.”

His accent was excellent, with only a slightly odd emphasis here and there to prove that Bennamorian was not his first language.

The fortress commander called over some of his soldiers to lead the horses away.

The young man eyed the multitude of people and horses milling about. “You have need of so many people?”

“If we are to stay amongst your people, as agreed, then we must have some attendants.”

For an instant, I pondered whether to leave some of our escort at the fortress. We had a full troop of Elite Guards with us, the mages with their own guards, bodyguards for Vhar-zhin and me, a cluster of experienced advisors and law scribes, plus various helpers and waiting women and servants. It was a lot of bodies to be accommodated and fed. But that was the custom for our rank, so the Blood Clans might as well accept it.

There was an interpreter in the group, too. Even if Ly-haam offered to interpret for us, she would watch and listen, reporting any discrepancies later. It was possible I would have the same skill, but there was no way to know if I could do the same with the Blood Clans’ language, since I had never encountered it. No Blood Clan people had visited Kingswell in recent years.

In addition, I had never confessed my ability to understand Icthari. Once the moment of discovery had passed, it would have seemed odd to mention it later. Besides, I rather liked having a secret talent. I may not have had magical powers like my mother, but this was something special I alone could do. So little of my life was secret that it gave me surprising pleasure to keep this little trick to myself.

Ly-haam led us down the track towards the village, bouncing along as if on springs, and spinning round to grin at us periodically. He hummed as he went.

Vhar-zhin raised her eyebrows at me. “Strange boy!” she whispered. “Perhaps he is simple. I hope they are not all like that.”

What an unnerving prospect. I had spent endless hours reading everything I could find about the Blood Clans, and I was no wiser for it. They were superficially a simple people, fishing or herding or hunting, apart from the beasts they shared their lives with. But there were rumours of secret ways, much darker ways.

“He may seem simple,” I said, “but he very likely knows this god-child well. They must be much of an age. So have a care.”

The village seemed as innocuous as our smiling guide. The skin tents were large enough to sleep several families, or to provide workspace as well for one family. Open flaps in the roofs allowed smoke to ooze out. I heard voices from within some of them, but no one was about. I’d expected to see people going about their daily chores, perhaps weaving or woodcarving, two skills they were famous for. But we saw no one.

“This way,” said Ly-haam. “I will take you to meet my mother.”

“Your mother?” I said, stopping dead. “Is she a leader, perhaps? I thought we would be greeted by a formal reception. We are here on official business, after all. We are here to see your
byan shar
.”

His smile widened, and he looked bashfully at his feet. “Oh, did I not mention it? You see,
I
am
byan shar
.”

Behind me, I heard Vhar-zhin’s gasp of surprise.

“You know perfectly well that you did not mention any such thing,
byan shar
,” I said, keeping my voice icy. “Is this the custom amongst your people, to greet guests with deceit? For I do not believe we can have dealings with you, if so.”

He laughed, not at all chastened. “It is true, I intended a small deception. I meant no harm by it. I wished to meet you without formality, without… any prejudice, no more than that. Please – will you enter?”

He held up the skin flap of the tent.

“To meet your mother? What about your advisors? We are here for formal discussions about matters of mutual interest to our two countries, not for a family visit.”

The smile widened even further. “That is not how we go about things, Princess. Please.”

I was disconcerted by his attitude. While I stood irresolute, my bodyguard coughed. “Perhaps I should check it out first, Highness?”

Excellent idea. I nodded, and she ducked her head to pass through the low opening. There was a murmur of female voices, then tinkling laughter.

A moment later, her head reappeared. “All clear. Just the mother, no weapons.”

“You see?” Ly-haam said, head tilted to one side like a bird. “Safe for you. Please enter.”

There was something about the whole arrangement that made me uneasy, but I couldn’t say what it was. I’d seen enough of foreign visitors over the last few years to know that they had some strange ways, but usually they were very much bound by protocol, insisting on being treated with the proper dignity and easily offended.

But Ly-haam’s casual manner set me on edge in a different way. For some reason, I didn’t want to enter the tent but I could think of no reason for refusing.

So I slipped through the opening. It was airy inside, a little gloomy from the lack of windows, but not at all stuffy. I paused on the threshold while my eyes adjusted to the light. There were few furnishings, just rugs and cushions scattered about, and a couple of decorated boxes. A small brazier provided both heat and light. A pot of something steamed gently above it. Around the perimeter, curtains screened off what I presumed were sleeping areas.

Ly-haam’s mother sat on a cushion near the brazier, beaming happily at me, and waving me forwards for all the world as if I were a friend of long-standing dropped in for an intimate chat. A small woman, plain-featured, even with the smile. Without it, her face would be ugly indeed. She patted the cushion next to her, and I sat, legs crossed, and waited for her to speak. I had no idea whether that was good manners here or not, and perhaps these people didn’t care about such protocols, but it seemed courteous to me to allow the host to speak first.

She said nothing, however, while our party entered and disposed themselves, Vhar-zhin and I and the mages sitting at the front, the others standing further back. Even though most of the guards stayed outside, the tent felt crowded. The mother giggled as we filed in, with one hand covering her mouth. Like her son, her clothes were plain, just a rustic gown and a scarf over her head. A few bracelets made of glass beads chinked and rattled with every movement, but she wore no other jewelry.

Last of all, Ly-haam squeezed past the mage guards, still huddled round the entrance, and folded himself down beside me in one fluid movement.

“Would you like some
besh
?” he said.

“What is that, a hot drink? I will try some, thank you.”

The mother reached over to one of the boxes, and pulled out a number of small cups, and poured liquid from the pot on the brazier. It was a rather tasteless herbal brew, very weak, but the cup held only a mouthful, so it was not too challenging to drink it all.

Again, I waited politely to be greeted, for introductions to be made, for some formalities that would reassure me that these people understood the importance of the visit. I didn’t expect them to acknowledge our rank, for perhaps it meant nothing to them, but they had requested this meeting and the Drashona could hardly have responded more respectfully, short of coming herself.

But no. “Tell me of your great city,” Ly-haam said, with another charming smile.

“Kingswell? What do you want to know?”

“I have heard that the houses are very great, and the streets wide and clean, and that your fountains gush forth hot water.”

It was not at all what I wanted to talk about, but perhaps such easy conversation was a preliminary stage in negotiations amongst such people.

“The houses are all made of stone, and tall – perhaps four or five times the height of this tent—”

“
Clava
.” Again the smile.

For a moment I was confused, for although my ears heard the word as he spoke it, in my head it registered as the word ‘tent’. Then I realised that I understood the meaning already, my mind interpreting it somehow. A little flutter of pleasure ran through me. My ability with languages worked even here, with no more than a single word.

Smiling back, I went on, “
Clava
. Some buildings are much higher than that. And some streets are wide and straight, and some are narrow and winding. And the hot water – yes, there is always hot water running through the pipes. We have no need for fires or fuel, the city is always warm.”

He leaned forward eagerly. “And that is because of your magic, no? Your mages make it so?”

Magic. My senses, honed at Yannassia’s well-shod feet, pricked slightly at that. He was no longer exchanging conversational nothings, he genuinely wanted to know. And I wondered why.

“Not the mages, no. It may be magic, or it may not, but it predates our civilisation by a great many years.”

“Civilisation,” he repeated, his eyes crinkling at the corners as if he were laughing at me. “I see.”

“You have an interest in magic?” I asked, in my best bored diplomat tones, as if I cared nothing for the answer.

Again, his smile widened. “An interest. Yes. An interest.”

And I could not interpret his meaning at all. He was frustrating to talk to, as slippery as a fish.

The whole time, his mother said nothing, smiling, always smiling, and refilling the little pots with herbal stuff. After a while, she reached into the box again and pulled out a handful of something – dust, it looked like – that she tossed onto the flames of the brazier. At once the tent filled with aromatic smoke, the scent as delicate as moonroses.

Beside me, Vhar-zhin closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She was fond of incense and burning oils, her sitting room always filled with essence of something or other. I was less fond, and I suspected our hosts were trying to induce a state of less alertness in us. Or something worse, perhaps.

I turned to Ly-haam. “I have monopolised your attention for too long. Please forgive me. I shall step outside for a while. Highness Vhar-zhin will remain to answer your questions.”

I rose and made for the entrance, but to my annoyance he jumped up and followed me out of the tent. I didn’t wait for him, but set off at once towards the lake. It was mostly hidden from view by the bulk of the many tents –
clava
, I supposed I should call them – but I caught glimpses of shimmering blue here and there. I was exhausted, but the sight exhilarated me, drawing me along as if on strings.

Ly-haam bounced up and past me, turning to face me, still smiling. “May I show you around, Princess? Would you like to see the rest of the village?”

“Perhaps later,” I said. What I would like was a few moments alone, but I could hardly say so. “I should like to see the lake. You are lucky to live beside such a vista.”

“The lake.” He paused, head on one side, and it was almost as if he were listening to something. Then he nodded. “Yes. The lake. This way, Princess.”

“My correct title is Highness.” I kept my tone pleasant, but firm enough to convey my wish that he get it right in future. But he merely smiled – everything made him smile. It was most disconcerting.

When we reached it, the lake was, after all, just a modest body of water. A light breeze ruffled the surface, and a party of ducks bobbed up and down, making their way steadily to a patch of reeds. Only the single island, away in the distance, distinguished this lake from a thousand others.

There was a small beach of shingle and sand, and I strode out to the very edge of the water. It was as if something drew me, but I had no idea what. The island, perhaps, far out on the water, like a ship sailing. I crouched down and buried my fingers in the sand, and there it was, that little buzz of energy from the earth that always lifted my spirits. It was not enough, but it was something.

Ly-haam watched me, twisting his hands and hopping from foot to foot. His expression – I couldn’t read him at all. I was weary to my bones, but it was essential to make the effort. There was so little time to get to know these people, and work out what they wanted from us. I took a deep breath.

“Is the fishing good?” I asked.

“Fish? No, no. Not here. No fish at all. The water is bad.” He swayed back and forth, and for the first time he seemed unsettled. “Shall we go back?”

It was too good an opportunity to waste. I didn’t want to anger him, but it would be useful to needle him a little, to see if I could learn something about him.

“It is a pretty spot,” I said. “The island out there – why does it have trees on it when there are none on the shore?”

It was an idle question, and I didn’t expect him to have an answer. He was flummoxed, however, and stood in silence, bobbing on his toes, hands clenching and unclenching. There was no smile now.

“We must go back.”

“But I—”

I took a step forwards, drawn towards the lake, but he grabbed my hand, as if to pull me away.

Astonishingly, something tingled between us, from my hand to his, or perhaps it was the other way round. Ly-haam dropped my hand as if it was on fire, his eyes round.

I squeaked in alarm.

At the sound, my bodyguard materialised, with the rasp of a sword half-drawn.

“Sorry,” Ly-haam said, backing away from me. “I should not have… Sorry, so sorry.”

“Highness?” the bodyguard said.

“No, I am…” I was about to say that I was all right, but I wasn’t sure that I was. “There is no problem. Something… took me by surprise, that is all.”

She nodded, and slid the sword back into its scabbard, but she stayed close to my side as we made our way back into the village.

Ly-haam regained his composure quickly. We had barely passed the first
clava
when he smiled and said, “You forgive, I hope. The lake is… special to us. The island… that is where our children go to be made into adults.”

“And where you were made into a god, I presume?”

A half smile. “It is forbidden for those not of our blood to enter the water.”

“We will respect your customs, of course. I will tell my people to keep away from the lake.”

A broader smile. “You will want to rest for a while. I will show you and your friends to your sleeping places. Then we will meet again at supper.”

We were given two large
clava
which Jayna immediately designated as the men’s tent and the women’s tent. I could see her point. Vhar-zhin and I could hardly monopolise one tent while everyone else squeezed into the other, nor did I want to send half the guards back to the fortress. We were evenly divided in gender, so it was a sensible compromise.

While my bodyguard was examining my small sleeping place for hidden assassins, I said to her, “Cryalla, you were raised in a village, weren’t you? How does this one strike you? Is it typical?”

“Oh no, nothing like a normal village. Usually there’d be animals everywhere – goats and chickens outside, pigs and oxen in barns. Maybe cattle in the fields. And fields – nothing is grown here. No children, either. No one going back and forth to the lake for water. Just – no one about. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Hmm. Interesting. But maybe there are no goats and such like because of their own beasts. Although we’ve seen none of those, either.”

“They’re close by, though,” Cryalla said. “Wolves, anyway.”

“Oh. You’ve heard them?”

“No, I…” She looked self-conscious. “I hope this doesn’t sound too weird, but I have an affinity for wolves. My parents were hunters in the summer, and spent a lot of time in the deep forest, so we saw wolves all the time. I’m… aware of them, if you like. There are three wolves nearby, I can tell.”

“Within the camp?”

“Perhaps. Yes, I think so. And I’ve seen several eagles flying overhead, and this is not eagle territory. They usually live in high mountains.”

“There are crows, too,” Vhar-zhin put in. “Sitting on top of the tents. Just sitting. Watching us.”

“As Ly-haam is watching us. And as
we
are watching
him
.”

~~~~~

For two whole suns we watched Ly-haam and his people, and they watched us. He talked a little to Vhar-zhin, and more to the mages, who fascinated him. He asked them endless questions about their magic, which of course they couldn’t answer. Not from secrecy, but because it was a process passed to us by our ancestors which we used without any understanding of how it worked. The spells were written in books, the methods for using them were taught to strict rules, as were the procedures for enhancing paper, ink and quills for scribing spellpages. There was no scope for originality.