Read The Storm Witch Online

Authors: Violette Malan

The Storm Witch (31 page)

“No, silly,” the Twin on her right tugged at her hand. “That’s not your question.”
Dhulyn felt herself blushing. Here, all alone, was not the time for her attention to slip so easily from her task. She began by humming along with the Twins, finally singing the words she knew, the words to a children’s song, to the tune.
How could she destroy the Storm Witch? That was the question she needed answered.
SUDDENLY, SHE IS STANDING In A TINY CLEARING In THE WOODS, WHERE SNOW LINGERS In THE HOLLOWS, AND In THE DEEPER BRANCHES OF THE PINES. WHERE SHE STANDS, WITH THE TWINS BESIDE HER, THE GROUND IS CLEAR.
“NEVER FEAR, DEAR ONE,” SAYS THE TWIN On HER LEFT. “WE WILL NEVER TELL ANYONE YOU ARE MARKED.”
“THERE IS LITTLE WE CAN DO FOR OURSELVES,” THE OTHER ADDS. “BUT WE CAN CERTAINLY DO THIS MUCH FOR YOU. YOU MUST KNOW THAT WE HAVE BEEN WAITING ALL OUR LIVES FOR YOU TO COME.”
“YOU DON’T KNOW US, BUT WE KNOW YOU, AND LOVE YOU LIKE A TRUE SISTER. I AM AMAIA,” THIS IS THE TWIN WITH THE GOLD-MARKED EYE. “AND THIS KERIA.”
“BUT YOU ARE . . .” DHULYN FALTERS, NOT KNOWING HOW TO FINISH HER THOUGHT WITHOUT GIVING OFFENSE.
“NOT WITLESS?” THE TWO SISTERS SMILE AT EACH OTHER. “NOT NOW, NO. SO YOU SEE WHY WE SPEND AS MUCH TIME In VISION AS WE CAN.”
DHULYN LOOKS AROUND HER. SHE CAN FEEL THEIR TOUCH, THE HARDNESS OF THE COLD GROUND UNDER HER BOOTS, THE CHILL OF THE AIR, THINGS SHE DOES NOT ALWAYS FEEL In VISIONS.
“THIS IS WHAT IT MEANS TO SEE WHILE In COMPANY?”
“PRECISELY,” AMAIA SAYS, NODDING. “IT’S NOT ONLY TO HAVE CHILDREN, AS THE HEALER TOLD YOU, THAT SEERS BAND TOGETHER, IT IS FOR THE STRENGTH OF THE VISIONS, THE CONTROL WE HAVE OVER THE SIGHT, WHEN WE ARE TOGETHER.”
“AND SO WE ARE STRONGER In VISION,” KERIA ADDS. “CLEANER, MORE OURSELVES, AS YOU ARE MORE YOURSELF, SISTER.”
DHULYN REALIZES FOR THE FIRST TIME THAT SHE IS DRESSED In HER OLD QUILTED, MULTICOLORED VEST, HER SOFTEST LEATHER TROUSERS, AND THE SEMLORIAN BOOTS SHE’D LEFT In HER CABIN On THE WAVETREADER. AND HER HAIR IS LONG AGAIN, ITS FINE BRAIDS KNOTTED AND TIED BACK OFF HER FACE.
“THIS IS YOUR VISION,” KERIA SAYS. “WE ARE HERE ONLY TO HELP YOU, TO MAKE IT STRONGER.”
“DO YOU KNOW THIS PLACE AT ALL? HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BEFORE?”
“NO, I DON’T THINK . . .” DHULYN PAUSES, SURELY THAT SMELL IS ONE SHE KNOWS. SHE TURNS TOWARD IT, AND A PATH OPENS In THE FOREST. ALL THREE STEP INTO IT, AND AS THEY FOLLOW IT, THE FOREST CLOSES ONCE MORE BEHIND THEM AND THE PATH DISAPPEARS. VERY QUICKLY, THE PATH AHEAD OF THEM OPENS UP INTO A CLEARING, AND THERE DHULYN SEES A REDHEADED WOMAN, WIPING THE HAIR OUT OF A SMALL CHILD’S FACE.
“MY MOTHER,” SHE SAYS TO THE TWINS. “AND MYSELF.”
DHULYN SHAKES HER HEAD A LITTLE, THE SMALLEST OF MOVEMENTS SIDE TO SIDE. WHY THIS VISION AGAIN? HOW WILL THIS HELP HER DESTROY THE STORM WITCH? SHE HAS ALWAYS SEEN THIS VISION FROM A DIFFERENT ANGLE, AND FROM MUCH CLOSER, TOO. SHE LOOKS TOWARD THE SPOT WHICH WOULD GIVE HER THE FAMILIAR POINT OF VIEW, HALF EXPECTING TO SEE A SHADOW OF HER SEEING SELF, BUT THE PLACE IS EMPTY. FROM WHERE SHE STANDS NOW, THE TWINS TO EITHER SIDE OF HER, DHULYN CAN SEE MORE OF THE CAMP BEHIND HER MOTHER, THE OTHER FIRES, FIGURES RUNNING, HORSES LOOSE, AND THE UNMISTAKABLE RISE AND FALL OF WEAPONS In THE NEAR DISTANCE.
“USUALLY, I CAN HEAR MY MOTHER SPEAKING,” DHULYN SAYS WHEN SHE REALIZES THEY COULD HEAR NO NOISE OTHER THAN THE WIND In THE TREES.
KERIA PUT HER HAND On DHULYN’S ARM. “THIS IS CLEARLY ANOTHER PART OF THE STORY.” AS THEY WATCH, THE CHILD KISSES HER MOTHER AND WALKS TOWARD THEM. EVEN THOUGH THEY KNOW THEY DON’T HAVE TO, ALL THREE OF THEM STEP BACK OUT OF THE CHILD’S WAY AS SHE PUSHES THROUGH UNDERBRUSH AND LOW BRANCHES. THE PATH THAT EXISTED FOR DHULYN AND THE TWINS DOES NOT EXIST FOR HER.
“DO YOU REMEMBER THIS NIGHT?” AMAIA LOOKS BACK OVER HER SHOULDER AT DHULYN’S MOTHER, WHO IS REMOVING THE LAST TRACES OF THE CHILD FROM HER CAMPSITE.
DHULYN SHAKES HER HEAD. “UNTIL I FIRST HAD THIS VISION, NOT SO LONG AGO, I HAD NO MEMORIES OF MY MOTHER AT ALL. I COULD NOT EVEN PICTURE HER FACE. I HAVE SEEN HER In SEVERAL VISIONS SINCE, SOMETIMES WITH FRESNOYN, SOMETIMES USING THE VERA TILES.”
“BEST WE TELL NO ONE OF THE FRESNOYN,” AMAIA SAYS. “THINGS ARE BAD ENOUGH WITHOUT THAT, AND WE WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO STOP THEM.”
“ANOTHER SECRET,” KERIA AGREES.
A PART OF DHULYN WISHES TO STAY AND WATCH WHAT HAPPENS TO THE HORSEMEN’S CAMP. SHE KNOWS THAT THIS WAS THE NIGHT In WHICH THE TRIBES ARE BROKEN BY TREACHERY AND DECEIT, BUT SHE HAS ONLY MET ONE OTHER SURVIVOR, AND KNOWS VERY LITTLE OF WHAT OCCURS On THIS NIGHT. STILL SHE FINDS HERSELF TURNING TO FOLLOW THE CHILD SHE WAS INTO THE HIDING PLACE HER MOTHER HAD PREPARED FOR HER.
IT IS CLOSER THAN DHULYN WOULD HAVE THOUGHT, BUT THE CHILD IS CAREFUL, PLACING HER FEET ONLY On CLEAR SPOTS WHERE SHE WILL LEAVE NO PRINT, DUCKING UNDER SNOW-LADEN BRANCHES THAT A GROWN PERSON WOULD HAVE TO AVOID ENTIRELY. FINALLY, THE CHILD GOES TO HER KNEES AND CRAWLS INTO THE SMALLEST GAP BETWEEN THE BOUGHS OF A PINE THICKET. AS BEFORE, A PATH CLEARS FOR DHULYN AND THE WHITE SEERS. HERE In THE THICKET THERE IS ALREADY A SMALL WATERSKIN, A POUCH WITH TRAVEL BREAD, A CLOAK, AND A PILE OF SOFT INGLERA HIDES.
BUT THE CHILD THEY FIND ASLEEP On THE SKINS IS NOT THE YOUNG DHULYN, BUT An OLDER, DARKER CHILD, HER THICK BLACK HAIR BRAIDED INTO A CROWN AROUND HER HEAD, HER VEILS SET TO ONE SIDE.
AMAIA BLINKS HER GOLD-FLECKED EYE AND CROUCHES DOWN On HER HEELS, HOLDING HER HAND OUT OVER THE SLEEPING CHILD.
“THIS IS THE TARA XENDRA,” SHE SAYS. “WE KNOW HER. HER BROTHER BROUGHT HER ONCE TO PLAY WITH OUR OTHER SELVES.”
Parno clapped his hands and the six members of the crew he was watching held up their swords and stood back from each other. Two of them, he noted, acted with some degree of sharpness and precision. He didn’t have time to School them in the Mercenary manner, but he and Dhulyn had twice taken untrained civilians and turned them into reasonable fighting units. He was confident he could do the same here, with half-trained Nomads, even without her.
“What do you think?” Malfin had come up on his left side, and Parno was certain he’d
felt
the man’s approach seconds before he’d heard him.
“The second on the left, and the first on the right. They’ll do. The two farthest from me fight as though the sword has only a point.” Parno looked across his folded arms at the captain. “Been trained only with the
garwon,
I expect?”
Mal nodded. “Would it be better if gave you only those with some sword training?”
Parno grinned before patting Mal on the shoulder. “Would seem logical, wouldn’t it? The fact is some are suited to fast training and some aren’t. Those who are . . .” he shrugged. “It doesn’t seem to matter whether they’re already swordsmen or not.”
Mal nodded. “Sar and Chels, you’re on the list,” he called out. “The rest of you are excused.” He turned back to Parno. “Gives you seven. Be enough?”
“It will. Remember, not trying to take the city, or even to breach the walls, just to get in. The fewer the better, so long as they’re the right ones.”
“Still wish could come with you myself.”
Parno knew the sentiment was a real one, the man was sincere. But captains had special duties, and were bound in a way that other Nomads were not. Even with a twin to share the captaincy, Malfin could no more leave his ship for this than the Crayx could leave the ocean.
Parno had spent the better part of two days drilling the weapons handlers aboard the
Wavetreader
. Almost every adult had some experience with sword, arbalest, or
garwon
—Nomad life required that all had at least a basic training—but he had found only these seven showing the aptitude that would respond to accelerated training. He wasn’t surprised that the group included the twins Tindar and Elian who had sparred with him that day, as well as Conford and Mikel the bosun. But he was a little surprised at how good Conford was, all things considered. And how ready he was to listen, and learn.
Parno set his squad up in pairs, directing Conford to take his turn with the winner in each pair. “Remember what I’ve shown you,” he said. “The first seven movements, only, until one of you is touched. Then Conford will step in. I’ll be watching, so stay sharp.”
“Dar told me about your family in Imrion.” Mal found a place to sit on the rail. “Would really accept a connection with Nomads? Know you’re a Mercenary and all, but . . .”
Parno kept his eyes on the pairs sparring in front of him as he answered. “According to the Common Rule, a Mercenary Brother has no family but the Brotherhood itself,” he said. “But my family chooses to acknowledge me, regardless of the Common Rule, and what I might think.” And they’d acknowledged Dhulyn as well, though that wasn’t something Parno wanted to say aloud. “And at that, I’m not the one who’s had the strangest time in my family, just the one who’s managed to stay alive.” He glanced at Mal. “And my cousin, the House now, is a very practical man. Will see this as an alliance worth cultivating.”
Parno stepped across to where the fighters had begun to spread apart, within the confines of the section of deck they’d been given for their workout. He touched the elbow of the twin Tindar and waited until the swords stopped. “Don’t look just at the tip of her sword,” he told Tindar’s opponent. “Try to see the sword, her shoulders, even her eyes, all at once. Each movement will give you a clue to the next one.” He turned back to Tindar. “Vary your strokes more, if use only third and fourth, will be very easy to stop you.”
“Is that how
you
got me?” But she was grinning as she said it, blinking the sweat out of her eyes. The day was warm, but windy.
“Not going to tell you
all
my secrets.” When they’d resumed fighting, Parno turned back to Mal, and found Dar standing beside her brother. Parno glanced at the sun, judging from its distance above the yardarm that Mal’s watch was almost over.
Dar’s eyes were shining, and her smile was at once brilliant and gentle. Parno thought she had never looked so beautiful.
“Good news for us,” she said. “And for your cousins.” She placed the palm of her hand against her belly, in a gesture Parno had seen many a pregnant woman use before her. “Crayx say twins.”
Parno blew out his breath. “Can you . . . ?” he gestured awkwardly, not knowing exactly how to word what he wanted to ask.
“No,” she said. “Too early. But Crayx can, through me. So Pod-sensed for certain, the little ones.”
Parno nodded. “But will keep in mind what I said about my family, won’t you? They’ll acknowledge the connection. And there might be others,” he added, when he sensed what he knew was a shade of doubt pass through them. “If I’m Pod-sensed, there might be others in my family as well.”
At that, their faces brightened, and the tiny shadow of doubt passed from their eyes.
“Off to rest.” Dar cuffed her brother on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “My watch now.”
Grinning, Mal slapped Parno on the back and walked off to his cabin. Darlara slipped her arm through Parno’s and he did not pull away, telling himself there was no need. There was only crew around them, only Nomads. There was no reason to keep watch, and besides, since Dar was on his left side, his best sword hand was free.
By this time most of the matches were over, and the recruits were standing in a rough circle, watching Conford spar with his latest opponent. The young man had taken his shirt off, and while there was a red stroke across his upper left arm, he seemed otherwise untouched.
“That one, Conford? Seems to stand apart,” Parno said. “More skilled than the others, but there’s something else.”
“He’s an exchange, thought you knew.” Dar’s face changed. “No, it was your Partner he spoke to most, remember now.”
“So came from another Pod?”
The two fighters were clearly slowing down, their blades still moving, but falling lower and lower as inexperienced wrists and forearms tired.

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