Ambition and Alavidha (31 page)

He had never
told a soul about their meeting. Every time he had started to blurt
it out, wanting to tell the world, he had found himself unable to.
It had become his secret. It was his private dream; the knowledge
that one day, when he was fourteen, Emmaya would come for him. It
had come a little earlier than he had expected, that was all.

He hadn’t even
told his boss about Emmaya although for some reason Jak knew the
man would have kept his secret. His boss was the head groom at the
inn stables where he worked. The old man was the closest thing Jak
had ever had to a father. The old man had taken him on, given him a
job and treated him almost like the son he had never had. For that
Jak was so grateful. He owed him a lot.

Because of
this, Jak had spent bell upon bell composing and writing a goodbye
letter. Spelling wasn’t one of Jak’s strong points so it had taken
him seven tries to write out the fair copy.

Practical
skills were taught in the orphanages in Argyll. Reading and writing
were not considered important. He hoped his ‘Father’ would
understand the reasons behind the reasons as to why he had
gone.

If anyone
does, it will be him
, thought Jak, getting to his feet.

With a last
look round to see if he had forgotten anything, it was impossible
he knew because he didn’t have many possessions, Jak exited the
loft, climbing down the ladder into the stable proper.

As he tip-toed
past the stalls the horses whickered.

As the head
groom knew, young Jak had a way with horses, with any animal for
that matter.

Jak patted one
of them as he passed, a handsome stallion who now belonged to the
Master.

The stallion
stamped his hoof as Jak drew his hand away, annoyed that Jak was
leaving him. Jak was the best of all the stable boys at knowing
just the right spot to caress.

Jak opened the
stable door a crack, slipped through it and closed it behind him,
all in the space of a heartbeat.

Emmaya was
waiting for him in the trees beyond the courtyard.

* * * * *

-40-

THE ISLAND OF
GALLIARD – THE GREAT EASTERN SEA

The sea air had
brought a hint of colour to Zeb’s naturally pale cheeks.

He had moved on
from being in a seventh heaven of delight, he was in the eighth or
perhaps the ninth or tenth. He stood, face glowing, leaning against
the taffrail.

Daniel and
Thalia were likewise standing, but a lindlengh or so away, being
careful, as was Zeb, to keep out of the way of the busy sailors who
were, to Thalia’s untutored eye, ‘moving ropes and things about’.
Daniel, used to travelling by sea knew that they were readying the
lines to take in the sails when the
Dalina
made anchor.

“Galliard is a
famous place in the history of the Vada you know,” Thalia was
telling Daniel. Zeb pricked his ears at the word ‘history’ and
shuffled along so that he could listen better. He was finding
history the most interesting of his lessons, especially when it was
Thalia telling one of her stories. She was even better than
spinning a yarn than Josei; the people and Lind in her stories came
alive as she told her stories in her sing-song voice. He had been
known to beg for more, Daniel had too.

“How’s that?”
asked Daniel.

“The Tale of
Rhian and Tadei,” Thalia answered, “want to hear it?”

“Do you want to
tell it?” he countered.

Zeb held his
breath but needlessly. Thalia was anxious to tell this one.

“Rhian and
Tadei were Ryzckas, I can’t remember which Ryzck in the middle of
the second century, the same time, or no, just before it must have
been, my ancestor Tana. She, they, became known as ‘The Heroes of
Galliard’. A man arrived at Vada one day with a request for help
for his island, I don’t remember his name, perhaps it was never
written down. A group of pirates were terrorising the islands, some
things never change, attacking and demanding tributes and so on. He
was looking for help to stop them.”

“What kind of
tributes?” interrupted Zeb.

“People for the
most part,” Thalia answered, “they took them to the Kingdom of
Murdoch and sold them.”

“Slaves?” asked
Zeb.

“Slaves,”
confirmed Thalia, then, after a quick look at Daniel who was
looking embarrassed at this reminder of his country’s past, she
added, “that was before slavery was abolished.”

“In AL 615,”
Zeb nodded, eager to show off his recently acquired knowledge.

Daniel looked
surprised.

“It’s in the
history reader,” explained Zeb. “I’m good at remembering things. Of
course,” he continued, switching into what he called the Thalia
lecturing mode, “some of the duchies declared em_an_cip-ation
before then but King Elliot the Twelfth freed those in the duchies
whose dukes had forgotten to do it. Bit odd that they hadn’t done
it already I thought.”

Daniel bit back
a smile at Zeb’s altruistic description of the stormy days when the
Kingdom of Murdoch had been ruled by Elliot the Reformer who had
forced through emancipation with steely fist and iron
determination.

“Quite,” agreed
Thalia, “well done for remembering Zeb. Well, Thalia and Tadei led
their Ryzck out here to Galliard, it was the first time the Vada
had ever come to the aid of anyone not on our mainland. The Ryzck
and the islanders fought off the pirates, I think they killed most
of them and so the island was saved. That’s why Rhian and Tadei
became Ruza. Ruza is the Lindish word for hero.”

“What happened
then?” asked Zeb.

“Rhian and
Tadei went back to Vada where Rhian became Weaponsmaster. After the
Battle of Fountain’s Head, or the Battle of the Gorge, it depends
where you come from what you call it …”

“I like
Fountain’s Head better,” Zeb interrupted again.

“So do I. After
the battle, when the Susa of the Vada was killed, she and Tadei
became the new Susa.”

“What happened
next?” repeated Zeb.

“Next? They
lived happily ever after,” Thalia concluded, “as it should be.
We’ll go visit the graves of the vadeln-pairs who died here if we
have time. I’m told by those who’ve visited here that it is a
beautiful spot. The islanders still look after the graves, even
after all this time.” She was looking east, towards where Galliard
was, her face introspective.

Her eyes grew
distant and Daniel felt tears prick at his own eyes. The way she
described her feelings was almost like how he felt about the huge
graveyard in the Duchy of Duchesne where the thousands who had
fallen during the great battle against the Dglai were buried.

“We will
definitely go if we have the time,” he agreed, “I sure could do
with some peace after all we’ve gone through and
will
be
going through.”

Thalia turned
eyes that shone in his direction, “you
do
understand.”

Daniel coughed.
She’s gorgeous when she looks like that, looks at me like that,
her face alight, her hair loose. She’s so alive!

Zeb donated on
Daniel a knowing look that spoke volumes and Daniel looked down at
his feet, they being the most mundane and safest object he could
think of in the spur of the moment.

“When do we
dock?” asked Thalia, who seemed unaware of the confusion afflicting
Daniel.

“Captain Hallam
will anchor in the bay,” he answered, “warships usually do. They
can then cut their anchor cables and sail away much faster than if
the need to warp away from a jetty.”

“Oh? I never
thought of that,” said Thalia, “but as to my question, how
long?”

“About a
candlemark I should think.” Daniel still found it difficult to
think of time in bells which was the northern way.

“Better get our
gear together then,” she suggested, “I want to start making
enquiries as soon as possible. Uniforms I think. It will make our
enquiry look more official.”

“Agreed,”
Daniel said as he followed her down the hatch that led to their
tiny cabins. Warships were not like merchantmen, where spacious
cabins, or as spacious as the ship’s design would let them were
provided for the paying guests.

* * * * *

-41-

STEWARTON -
ARGYLL

Foreign
Secretary Francis Durand looked at yet another report. This one
came from the Secretary of the Interior.

Tara
Josensdochter, youngest daughter of a reputed academic from Port
Lutterell had disappeared, vanished into thin air.

This was,
unfortunately for his secretarial compatriot in the government,
just the more recent in a whole series of disappearances.

All young or
youngish people.

From many areas
in Argyll.

There must
be a connection
, a worried Francis thought,
another
connection
, prompted his inner voice.

A connection
between these disappearances and the strange population movements
in Vadath?

Francis rather
thought so. Perhaps he’d better pull out more of his intelligence
agents from the Great Eastern Sea and send them west.

“I think I
will,” he said out loud and into the emptiness of his office.

* * * * *

-42-

THE ISLAND OF
GALLIARD – THE GREAT EASTERN SEA

Is this the
thief you were searching for?” asked the constable.

Thalia
registered the cold and very dead face of Chad and simultaneously,
Josei, outside, was aware of it too.

: It is him. I
am sure of it :

: I am too
:

“Then the sword
you have been looking for is gone,” continued the constable. “he
was stripped bare when we found him, even down to his shoes and
socks.”

“So that he
couldn’t be traced,” observed Daniel in his slow, southern
drawl.

The constable
gave him a quick look, mystified as to why a young southern man was
travelling with Vadeln Thalia but shrugged it off, even though at
Thalia’s urging he was wearing Vada maroon. It was well known that
Lind-choice knew no boundaries. A young sailor from Galliard had
not long ago sailed off to the mainland and not returned, remaining
in Vadath with his Lind.

“Is there no
evidence at all of who did this?” asked Thalia. “They left no clues
at all?”

“Not one.
Professional job. His throat was cut clean after his skull was hit
with a blunt object, see the contusion here and no evidence of
struggle. I’d guess he knew his attackers or if he didn’t know
them, he expected to meet them there, we’re assuming there was more
than one, in one of the bedrooms of the
Rhian Inn
.”

“Have the
innkeeper and the servants been questioned?”

“I did it
myself. They claim they saw nothing, heard nothing, nothing
suspicious at all.”

“One or more of
the guests perhaps,” opined Daniel, “with a legitimate reason to be
there.”

“That’s my
guess. By law every hosteller must keep a record of their guests
and we interviewed everyone in the book. The staff swear there were
no unauthorised people upstairs. I believe them. Honest place.
Honest staff, most have been working there for years.”

“Are all those
in the book still on the island?” queried Thalia.

“All but two,”
the constable answered. “Men of Leithe. They took passage
yesterday. Seemed to me there was no reason to detain them. They’ve
been here before, come most years I believe. Let me see.” The
constable perused his interview notes, “yes, here we are, they
hadn’t even seen the murdered man, spent the night quietly in the
rooms.”

“What are their
names?” asked Thalia.

“Samuel
Bentwick and his servant Windlor Arturson.”

“No-one saw
them talking to the murdered man?”

The constable
shook his head.

“The deceased
kept to his room, had meals sent up. The maidservants said he was
quiet, didn’t give them any trouble.”

“What kind of
business is this Samuel Bentwick in?”

“Diamond
trader.”

Thalia nodded.
The once volcanic island of Galliard was prosperous. About four
centuries before diamonds had been found in the mountains. The
supply appeared even now to be a never ending one and the diamonds
were of very high quality. The Cartel ruled the island, made up of
a conglomeration of mine owners. The constable would neither have
wished to antagonise foreign diamond merchants nor annoy the Cartel
itself.

“These Leithe
men, when they left, they took ship home?”

“I presume they
did,” the constable sounded surprised at Thalia’s question.

“You didn’t
check?”

“Why should I?
It had been determined beyond reasonable doubt that they had
nothing to do with the murder. They were not under suspicion.”

“Could you find
out for us if they did board a ship bound for Leithe?”

“If you like.
Might take some time. Hey, you don’t think they did have something
to do with the murder do you?” he looked uncomfortable. What his
superiors would think if he had let the murderers leave the island
he didn’t want to imagine.

“Probably not.
Will you send word when you find out?”

“Yes. Where
will you be?”

“On the
Dalina
, she’s in harbour, buoy seven.”

“I’ll send
word,” he promised, “and you won’t forget to give me a list of the
stolen goods your thief was carrying. They might yet turn up.”

“We will,”
promised Thalia in turn, “but the main thing is the sword, an old
sword, like mine.” She tapped the hilt, “but a bit bigger and wider
of the blade. Very old, no rust but stained by age. It is much
revered amongst the Vada as it belonged to our very first
commander, also a collar, studied with agates and rhinestones, not
valuable but it is also precious to us.”