Master of furies, p.2
Master of Furies, page 2
Striding along the corridors, Tarquen considered his choices. He had already sent word to all his trusted agents in the Border Ports to start enquiries as to who might be bold enough to capture his treasure ship, and to ferret out who was behind seizing the Queen of Storms, the finest ship the Azhante had ever constructed. He had no proof, but in his bones, he knew that the offenders were one and the same and that suspicion fuelled a growing disquiet.
This hidden actor was an unknown, and that troubled him deeply.
TARQUEN WELCOMED URIAS AND WAVED him to sit down beside him on the plush carpet. Both men had relinquished their heavy ceremonial robes in favour of the lighter hip-length, short-sleeved tunics and the baggy knee-length trousers favoured at this time of the year.
The low table had been set with a midday meal perfect for the hot weather: chilled meats, cheeses, vegetables brined and spiced, fresh fruit, and metal pitchers of chilled water.
When the servants had finished placing the plates before the two Pride Lords, Tarquen dismissed them. When the two leaders were alone, Urias said, ‘As pleased as I am with this lavish repast, I can only conclude that the rumours of your treasure ship being lost are true.’
‘Your spies do you credit,’ said Tarquen with a rueful chuckle.
‘Spies are hardly necessary when the streets run rife with rumours,’ replied Urias. ‘Obviously we do not know details of how great a loss it represents, but as your Pride was the primary architect of that assault on North Tembria, so you bore the brunt of the expense.’
Tarquen shrugged, indicating that he was resigned to that unfortunate event. ‘While the loss of a treasure ship is regrettable, the loss of the Queen of Storms gives rise to greater concern.’
Urias nodded. ‘Who would dare?’ he asked softly.
‘That is exactly the question, isn’t it?’
Both men were silent for a moment as they reflected on the enormity of that question.
Lowering his voice, Urias said, ‘Since the Dark Masters went quiet …’ He left the sentence unfinished.
Tarquen smiled. ‘More than a century has passed and yet we still whisper their name.’
Urias forced a smile in return. ‘Habit. My grandfather told stories of people mentioning them and vanishing before the very eyes of onlookers.’
‘And my mother told me if I didn’t finish the food on my plate, a horrible creature would come steal me away after I went to bed.’ Tarquen’s grin widened. ‘One hundred years and a bit more everything changed, and to this day we do not know why.’
‘Yet we live in daily apprehension that the Dark Masters might return in a manner as unheralded as they departed.’
‘May that day never come,’ said Tarquen. ‘Still, we do much in our daily lives predicated on that fear.’
‘I remember my grandfather telling my father and me the story his father told him about the day of tribute when the sacrifices were taken to slaughter pits for the Ritual of Appeasement, but the Dark Masters did not appear. They waited for an entire day and night, then returned the next dawn in confusion and fear.’ Urias’s expression was masked, but Tarquen saw a hint of the lingering fear every human from Pride Lord to slave felt when the Dark Masters were mentioned. ‘But you did not invite me here to speculate over ancient dread.’
‘True. Without the sacrifices and battle rites of ancient days, this expansion of our power to the far side of the world is necessary because of the growth in our population.’
‘You speak the obvious.’
‘Yet, we face unintended consequences.’
‘Agreed, yet you have something specific in mind,’ suggested Urias.
‘Our own house has fallen into … disunity.’
‘Ah,’ said Urias, nodding. ‘You fear a factional war?’
‘Not fear so much as anticipate,’ said Tarquen.
‘Shono?’
Tarquen nodded. ‘He is ambitious.’
‘As were we all once; your grandfather more so than all of us.’
‘Which is why the Golden Pride has endured, but with our leadership, we have contrived to keep order. Order that has kept your Pride almost our equal in wealth and power since our fathers’ days.’
‘True.’ Urias studied Tarquen’s face for a long moment, then asked, ‘What are you proposing?’
‘I think we should give Shono something important to pursue, so that he is distracted from his ambitions to one day take my place in the Camera.’
Urias smiled: he knew that was as likely to be true as much as it was ridiculous. He nodded. ‘Such as?’
‘Ask him to oversee the Azhante as they seek out those who stole the Queen of Storms.’
Urias considered this, then gave a single approving nod. ‘Since the success of the raid on the Northern Twin, and the collapse of the Church of the One, that will keep the Azhante busy.’
‘And knowing the Azhante, they will not consider for one moment allowing Shono to upset the current balance. The Azhante may not be happy servants, but they understand better than most the need for order. Without a goal, they tend to grow restless.’
‘They currently lack one, that is certain,’ agreed Urias.
‘In a year, two at the most, the Twins will be ripe to occupy, and by then we shall have decided who will colonize and who will remain and return to something approaching normal order.’
Urias rose. ‘Send word should you need my assistance.’
‘Between the two of us, and the uncertainty of Eagle and Onyx, we need but … agitate one or two of Shono’s lesser Pride alliances, and that should keep him busy until it is time for the migration of our colonists.’
‘We can but hope,’ said Urias. There was only a hint of doubt tingeing his words. He departed, leaving Tarquen with his own thoughts.
First had come the obliteration of Ithrace, and the complete infiltration of Sandura and suborning of the king’s authority. And then this massive raid, on a scale unmatched in history. Next would come the occupation of the Twins, and then, after generations of planning, Nytanny would rule all of Garn.
Then the doubt brought about by the loss of two ships, the Queen of Storms and Borzon’s Black Wake, made the Lord of the Golden Pride return to that one troubling thought: out there was an adversary far cleverer and more daring than he could have anticipated. That worry would likely linger for a very long time, second only to his lifetime of fear that the Dark Masters would return.
• CHAPTER ONE •
Refit, Re-education, and the Unexpected
The Queen of Storms eased into the refurbished berth in the Sanctuary’s harbour. The sun shone brightly, and Hava welcomed the warmth on her back and shoulders after having spent over an hour slowly navigating the mist that frequently shrouded this island, the mist that provided the protection needed to hide it from all enemies. It was dense enough to dampen her blouse and when the breeze freshened, it had chilled her.
That ring of surrounding mist had been a major factor in the Flame Guard picking this location for their original hiding place. Hava had navigated enough in the area now that she appreciated the quirky weather conditions and how to get in and out of the Sanctuary safely. That shroud of mist and fog combined with the further difficulty of navigating the shoals, reefs, and rocks that littered the passage from the island to open waters. It was called ‘the Scorching Sea’ off the coast of South Tembria, but she had not heard any name for it here. It was just ‘the ocean’.
The Sanctuary loomed ahead, and Hava could see a handful of workers who had been tasked with cleaning away years of debris and decay from the currently empty buildings just above the harbour. One task Hava had assumed without consulting anyone was that of freeing any captives from North Tembria who had been taken by slavers. In the three short weeks since she had first arrived, she’d made half a dozen more journeys through the chain of islands dominated by the Border Ports and had returned with freed prisoners and former slaves. These had been nursed and fed, and those who were able had been put to work reviving this ancient home to the Flame Guard. The rest were cared for, and eventually they would either recover or die.
Hava had little sense of ‘home’ from wherever she had lived. Her father had been quick enough to send her away as one less mouth to feed, so the closest place to home was the school where she learned how to serve Coaltachin, alongside her friend, now husband, Hatushaly, and other children. Coaltachin was where they had learned to murder, steal, and spy for a society of criminals and assassins. They had shared the strange quality of being part of a larger whole, perhaps a ‘family’ in a sense – she had seen families in her travels, so she accepted hers was a strangely odd one by most measures – but no one place was ‘home’.
Still, there was something about this place that was growing on her, even in so short a time, perhaps like Beran’s Hill. That was where she and Hatu had lived in relative safety. Or at least until the horror of the assault that had destroyed the town.
Being apart from her husband had made it clear to Hava that pretending to be his wife had evolved into the feeling that she was his wife, though she was never going to take orders from him in the way of many women she had witnessed deferring to their husbands in her travels. At least she felt closer to him than any man she’d known and found the sex far more satisfying because of it. She had lain with a few boys, men, and a few women during her training. Much of it was pleasant, sometimes even fun, and at worst she had learned how to endure everything from incompetence to abuse, should sex be required as part of her mission.
With Hatu it was different. She hadn’t quite come to understand fully what it meant. It was just better than with other men, but whatever the reason, she was planning on dragging him into their bed as soon as she bathed.
Catharian stood on the quay, waving a greeting. Hava smiled as she ordered the ship made fast, and turned to her first mate, Sabien. ‘Get our passengers off first.’ With a sweep of her hand, she indicated the ship. ‘Then get her cleaned up and let the men go. Have them fetch those casks of ale we looted up to the public mess and open one. They deserve some time to themselves.’
‘Yes, Captain,’ replied the former mason.
Hava watched his back as he moved down to the main deck. She repressed a grin: he rarely shouted orders, preferring to pass them along in hushed tones. He raised his voice only during rough weather or when calling to the crew aloft. This caution probably stemmed from their first escape from captivity, and she felt no need to change his manner. Sabien had blossomed into as stalwart a mate as she could have hoped for. He had risen to become her second in command, after she had given her previous first mate, George, command of a second warship they had taken while at anchor on the voyage home. Named Sundown Raider, it was an older ship than her Queen of Storms, and slower. She expected George to pull into the harbour around sundown.
She left the quarterdeck and made her way to the gangway, crossing to the quay where Catharian waited. No longer disguised as a mendicant friar of the Order of Tathan the Harbinger, he had stopped shaving his head, and now looked a bit older with his grey-speckled brown hair visible.
Initially she had been enraged by his part in the abduction of her husband from the town of Beran’s Hill, but after the number of refugees she’d encountered from the invasion of the west coast of North Tembria, she had finally come to understand that the abduction very well might have saved Hatushaly’s life. She was even beginning to appreciate Catharian’s dry, trenchant wit.
‘Successful voyage, I take it,’ he said with a smile.
‘Very. Those … well, can’t very well call them landmarks, can we? Seamarks? Anyway, straight through the Shroud, then those colour changes in the water are easy enough to follow after you’ve navigated them and know what to look for.’
‘Shroud?’ Catharian asked.
‘That shroud of mist and fog around this island?’
He smiled. ‘Never had a name before. I like it.’
She studied his expression then added, ‘You were worried, weren’t you?’
He tried to shrug but limited himself to a slight nod and an openly pained expression. ‘Very. Well, it was your first voyage without me.’ He looked over her shoulder. ‘Where is George?’
She laughed, a peal of delight. ‘He’s bringing in the ship we took.’
‘Another ship?’ he asked, glancing at the two now anchored some distance offshore. ‘More loot?’
‘More Azhante,’ she replied.
‘Another warship?’ he asked, his eyes widening a little.
‘Sundown Raider,’ she said. ‘Heard of her?’
‘I’ve seen her, docked in the islands a few years ago.’ He glanced at the Queen of Storms, taking in the fact that she looked exactly the same as when she’d departed. ‘How’d you manage without …?’ He waved at the undamaged ship.
‘We swarmed her at night. Apparently, word hasn’t reached everyone about the Queen being taken, so we were on top of them before they realized it wasn’t another of their own.’
Glancing at the retreating backs of the freed prisoners, Catharian said, ‘Food is going to start being a problem soon.’
‘We can take the Raider, escort one of the freighters, and spend some days fetching food.’ She glanced around. ‘If we’re to get this place into proper shape we’re going to need more people, and then we’re going to have to start thinking more about permanent solutions.’
‘There are old farmsteads on the north side of this island. They’ve lain fallow for … who knows how long?’
‘Bodai probably does,’ suggested Hava.
Catharian smiled and nodded. ‘Indeed. But I’m sure they’re overgrown with weeds, and I don’t know if we have any farm tools …’
‘Make a list,’ said Hava. ‘We’re due for a journey back to Marquensas, and there are certainly abandoned farms up and down the coast … and perhaps some farmers in hiding.’ She was silent for a moment, considering what they knew about the raiding of that barony. They still lacked an overall perspective but had heard enough stories from survivors to know that the barony might no longer exist. ‘Well, we’ll see what we’ll see when we get there.’ She added, ‘And no matter what we offer here, some of these people will want to go home.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Catharian. ‘Families were separated, loved ones captured and put on other ships, or left dead back home. So much chaos. Those who are willing to stay …’ He let his words drift for a moment, then added, ‘This was once a very busy community of thousands of people spread out over dozens of islands to the north and northwest. Everything we needed, grass for grazing livestock, timber, even mining I was told.
‘As the Flame Guard evolved with the Firemane …’ He fought for words for a brief moment, then said, ‘It’s hard to explain, for a lot of our history is lost to us. That is one of the tasks Bodai has set for himself, and now perhaps with Hatushaly, to scour the library for whatever we can find to fill the holes in that history.
‘Just know that whatever the cause, the Flame Guard left this island stronghold and the people who lived around here and eventually the majority of us were left in Ithrace, protectors and educators of the royal children, and guardians of secrets far deeper than what any of us today know. Most of us were lost when Ithrace was destroyed.’
Hava looked at Catharian and saw that his expression was barely masking a true pain he usually kept well hidden, and she nodded. ‘I have a sense of far greater questions yet to be answered.’
‘Undoubtedly. It wasn’t until we returned here that we began to appreciate how much of our own history had been forgotten.’ He was silent for a moment, then added, ‘I think we may have lost sight of our own true mission somewhere along the way.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Nothing specific. Just a sense that there must have been a larger mission back when this was the centre of our order.’ Catharian glanced around as if he was still taking in the changes the Sanctuary was undergoing. ‘But these are questions that may take years to answer, if even then.’
Hava nodded and remained silent as she considered this. She looked at him and shrugged. ‘Hatushaly is part of those answers, it seems.’
They both turned their attention to the crew making the ship secure, and then Catharian said, ‘You’ve been away more than you’ve been here. I know Hatushaly missed you.’
‘We’ve been apart before, and certainly will be again, but at least I’m here for a while before heading back to North Tembria.’
Catharian nodded but said nothing.
‘Besides,’ she added with an annoyed expression, ‘Bodai keeps him studying from dawn till dusk, so I hardly see him anyway when I am here.’ Her expression turned to one of mixed annoyance and worry. ‘I feel things are changing between us, but …’
Catharian touched her reassuringly on the shoulder. ‘Whatever changes will be what both of you decide. I can only imagine how difficult these separations are for you both; you’ve been together since you were children.’
‘Difficult isn’t the word,’ said Hava tersely. ‘These studies of his when I’m gone are’ – she shrugged – ‘one thing, but when I’m here it’s—’
‘Necessary,’ interrupted Catharian. ‘I assume he has talked to you about the incident on the ship? When he first journeyed here?’
She sighed. ‘Yes, he made it clear to me that without training he is a danger to all of us, even himself. But I don’t fully understand.’
‘Bodai can explain at length—’
‘Tedious length.’ Hava laughed. ‘Very tedious.’
Catharian chuckled. ‘Yes, but he is thorough. Until Hatushaly, magic was the province of women alone. I can’t grasp the concept of these powers. “Magic”, if you will, was alien to me until I became a part of the Flame Guard, so I understand only a little.’ He looked as if he was fighting for words. ‘I think from what I’ve been told that men with … Ability? Power? Were … conduits, somehow linking with the … “magic”. But only women could actually manipulate and use that power.’ He looked away over the harbour. ‘It’s why it’s so crucial that it was the Firemane line that had this power. Their magic came through the males, and the daughter who married had children without …’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know how to explain it.’
