Outcast Chronicles - Sanctuary Part 14

*Thank you, baroness.'

Zaria packed up her things, then turned to Sorne. *We can't leave him here. Eskarnor will have him killed. He'll have to come with us.'

Sorne went to speak, but she held up her hand.

*You lied to me. I understand why, but I don't like it.'

*Then you should know I don't plan to ride to the city. The rain has stopped, but the Wyrds' wagons turned the port road to a quagmire. I plan to take us south to Nitzane's stronghold at Shifting-sands Bay, then send you up the coast by ship to Port Mirror-on-Sea. We'll make better time if we ride and you should tell your people they're in the path of war.'

*How long do we have?'

*I don't know. It depends on how organised Eskarnor is.'

*Aingeru...' She covered her mouth as a sob escaped her. *Aingeru has no love for Eskarnor, but he hates Charald after what the king did to Maygharia.'

*The king is dying. Queen Jaraile will need strong barons around her.'

*If I send Aingeru a message, he'll support Jaraile. I'll tell him we're going to port and he is to meet you...' She looked at Sorne. *Where will you be gathering your forces?'

He hesitated. If Aingeru did not do what Zaria expected, he could hand his wife's message over to Eskarnor and...

*Riverbend Stronghold is in the middle of South Chalcedonia,' she said. *It makes a good gathering point for the barons. That's where you're rallying the army, isn't it?'

Sorne nodded. He was not surprised she'd guessed. Zaria had spent her teens listening to men talk tactics.

She nodded to herself. *I'll tell our men-at-arms to march for Riverbend.'

Sorne wondered if he had just won a powerful baron and weakened Eskarnor, or lost the war.

Chapter Eleven.

ARAVELLE TURNED AROUND, her stomach cramping with fear.

*Vella? Vella, come here.'

The oldest of Charsoria's inner circle beckoned from the galley door. Aravelle had spent her first morning with the brotherhood scrubbing pots. To think she used to long for the beauty and culture of the Celestial City. She would probably have scrubbed pots there, too.

Aravelle glanced to the cook, who sent her off.

She wiped her fingers on her cleaning smock and hurried over. *Is Itania all right?'

*She's fine, but she does miss you.' Redravia shuffled down the hall, speaking over her shoulder. *You've been called to serve the all-father.'

*Why?'

*How would I know? Charsoria wants to see you first.'

Aravelle braced herself and stepped inside the cabin. *You sent for me, all-father's-voice?'

Charsoria looked Aravelle up and down, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. *This will not do. You can't go before the all-father looking like a kitchen drab.'

Since these were the garments she'd been told to wear and Charsoria had sent her to the kitchen to work, Aravelle bit her tongue. As she took off the smock, Itania broke away from the other small children and ran to her. Aravelle hugged her little sister.

*Hurry up,' Charsoria snapped. She opened a chest and began sorting through various items of clothing.

A toddler b.u.mped into Nariska, who was clearing away the breakfast things. The fourteen-year-old dropped the tray, and bowls and plates shattered. Children yelped with fright as the women hissed with annoyance.

*Stupid girl.' Hariorta clipped Nariska over the ear. *Now you'll have to clean it all up!'

The girl dropped to her hands and knees to pick up broken crockery.

*Stay here.' Aravelle put Itania on a bunk and knelt to pick up pieces of broken crockery. Nariska sent her a surprised look.

*What are you doing, Vella?' Charsoria caught her arm, hauled her to her feet and thrust some clothes at her. *Get dressed.'

Aravelle dropped her drawstring pants and stepped out of them.

*At least you're not pregnant,' Charsoria said, gesturing to her thighs.

Aravelle glanced down to see blood smeared on her inner thigh. That explained the stomach cramps. Her mother had promised that Father would build a room for her when she became a woman. But here she was...

An angry sob escaped Aravelle.

*Here, now. No call for tears,' Redravia said. *Your first time? Feeling crampy?'

Aravelle could only nod.

*I'll brew some soothing a"'

*No time for that,' Charsoria snapped. *Show her where we keep the rags.'

Soon Aravelle was dressed in soft woollen trousers, vest, and a rich tabard of deepest indigo. The brotherhood symbol of a snake swallowing its tail was embroidered in b.u.t.tery yellow thread along the hem. All her clothes came from the communal chest. From now on she owned nothing; not even her own privacy, it seemed.

*Let me see you,' Charsoria ordered.

Aravelle turned.

The all-father's-voice frowned. *I can't do anything about that split lip or the red eyes. Stop moping, girl. Your first blood is a time to rejoice. Your hair should be neater.' She turned Aravelle around with a sharp jerk and ruthlessly plaited her waist-length hair, tying it off with a leather thong. *There. Now for shoes. Can't have you going before the all-father barefoot like a Mieren street brat. Let me see your feet.'

Aravelle lifted the hem of her trousers to reveal pale, scratched feet.

*She looks about your size, Redravia. Give her yours. I'll have another pair made for you.'

The old woman sat to remove a pair of simple black slippers.

Aravelle slid her feet into them. They were still warm and... *Too small.'

*They'll do for now. Now, look at me, girl. I don't know what the all-father wants you for, but don't you shame me by giving him any lip. Now, go.'

Aravelle hesitated. *I don't know where...'

*Show her the way, Redravia.'

With a quick hug for Itania, who began to wail despite Aravelle's entreaties for her to be good, they hurried off. Itania's accusatory cries followed them out the door and down the pa.s.sage. Up on deck, Aravelle found Malaunje from both brotherhoods hard at work. It was a fine morning, and they were taking stores out of the hold and reorganising them.

She wriggled her toes in the too-small slippers. It seemed she could do nothing to please the all-father's-voice.

*Why does Charsoria hate me? And who is Hariorta, her mother?'

Redravia gave a hoot of laughter. *Don't let Hari hear you say that. She's Charsoria's older half-sister.'

*She's also my aunt?'

*No, different mother. One day I'll show you in the lineage book. Your mother and Charsoria share the same mother, and she was the last all-father's-voice. Charsoria only has the position now because your mother ran away. Hueryx has forced her to honour you and Itania as her choice-daughters. Worse, she has produced only sons, so when the time comes and she must look for a suitable girl to train, the all-father will expect it to be you.'

*Oh...' No wonder Charsoria and Hariorta hated her. *But I don't want to be all-father's-voice. I'll tell her.'

*You'll do no such thing.' Redravia sniffed. *Besides, she'd never believe you.'

*It's not fair.'

*Who said Malaunje life was fair?' Redravia entered the pa.s.sage under the foredeck, stopping at the last door. *You go ahead. And remember' a" her faded mulberry eyes fixed on Aravelle a" *you have rights. You cannot be forced to do something you don't want to do. You should have been trained to resist their gifts, but...'

Aravelle's stomach churned. *They won't a"'

*They won't force anything on you, but watch out for their honeyed tongues. If you're not careful, you'll end up doing what they want and being grateful for it.'

Heat rushed up Aravelle's throat and over her cheeks. Other than warning her to beware the wiles of brotherhood T'En, her mother had not prepared her for this. But she hadn't had any formal training, and somehow she'd resisted Ronnyn's power all last summer. Even so, he was a boy; these were the brotherhood's most powerful T'En men. She fought the first flutterings of panic.

One glance over her shoulder told her Redravia was headed for the door to the mid-deck. *Thank you,' Aravelle called softly.

The old woman paused then shook her head. *Sasoria should never have deserted us.'

Aravelle swallowed and knocked.

The cabin door swung open and three young T'En men strode by, brushing past her as though she was invisible.

*Come in.'

Aravelle stepped into the dim cabin. A row of windows, larger than the ones in Charsoria's cabin, ran along the far wall. Their light silhouetted three men kneeling on cushions, and illuminated richness beyond anything Aravelle had ever seen. And she'd thought the Malaunje quarters opulent.

So many things gleamed: copper, pewter, crystal, gold and silver. All the colours were incredibly vivid, blues and purples, a red richer than blood. Her gaze was drawn to a banner hanging on the wall. It was as tall as her and a snake swallowing its tail was picked out in gleaming gold thread on an indigo background.

But what hit her most was the smell.

It made her nostrils sting and her heart race. It spoke of danger and it promised everything. With a start, she realised it wasn't a smell at all.

The T'En had been gift-working.

*Don't stand there, come in and shut the door,' All-father Hueryx said.

With Charsoria's admonition to keep her tongue between her teeth, and Redravia's more cryptic warning still ringing in her ears, Aravelle stepped cautiously into the cabin.

*She's been knocked around but, even so, I can tell she's pretty rather than beautiful.' The one on the left sounded petulant, as if life had proved a disappointment to him.

*Is my all-father's-voice treating you well?' Hueryx asked.

The irony of this made her smile and she heard a soft gasp from one of the men.

*Come closer,' the one on the right ordered. He was big and he spoke with a soft lilt. Had to be the brotherhood's hand-of-force.

She picked her way through the discarded bedding and heaped clothes. A chest of weapons had been opened and scattered about as though someone had been looking for something.

When she was about a body length from the men, she stopped and waited with her left hand folded over right, both clasped in front of her. As was appropriate, her gaze remained on the floor. She could pretend to be the perfect Malaunje servant if she had to.

*You should punish her, not reward her,' Hueryx's voice-of-reason advised. *Malaunje who run away should be a"'

*No one will be running away now. And Vella was an infant. She had no say in what her mother did.'

*Sasoria stole your T'En son.'

*And now he is returned. Besides, no one looking at Ronnyn could deny he's mine.' The all-father returned his attention to Aravelle. *You must be, what, nearly fourteen?'

She nodded. *Just after winter's cusp.'

The hand-of-force cleared his throat. *What will you do with her?'

*Do you read and write, Vella?' the all-father asked.

*Of course.'

The voice-of-reason stiffened. *The insolence!'

*Don't you get tired of insincere subservience, Dragomyr?' Hueryx countered.

*What will you do with her?' the hand-of-force asked again. Even kneeling, he seemed to radiate energy.

*I hear the causare has a renowned Mieren scholar on her ship, who set sail with us specifically to write our history,' the all-father said. *I am going to write a history of the last thirty years. If I don't, only the sisterhood version of events will be remembered. Vella can scribe for me.'

*Very well. But if she is going to be underfoot, she can be useful,' Voice-of-reason Dragomyr announced. He was stockier and very fair. His lashes and eyebrows were so pale he had a slightly unfinished look. *I want this cabin cleaned.'

*I live to serve.' Aravelle gave the appropriate bow.