Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) (19 page)

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Authors: Amanda Greenslade

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BOOK: Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1)
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I slid my belt pouches onto the leafshard belt and wrapped it around my waist, already feeling safer.

‘It looks well on you.’ Namal was clearly pleased with his decision.

‘Thank you,’ I murmured, awed.

When my fingers brushed the shards I experienced a surge of awareness—the Zeikas I had sensed when I touched the Ancient Sapphire Tree were still out there. It surprised me that the insight from touching that Tree still reverberated in my mind.

‘I will take good care of it,’ I said, giving Namal my belt in return.

‘Good,’ Namal replied. ‘There were some who used to say there was a spiritual purpose to the Anzaii artefacts. With so many of our scrolls lost in the ban on the Tanzans, we have not been able to look further into it.’

‘It sounds like a worthwhile quest.’

I noticed only the slightest nod from Namal before he turned away. With one more look at the Ancient Sapphire Tree, I followed him out of the cavern. It was tempting to pluck a leaf from one of the smaller trees as we passed, but Namal’s reverence for them stayed my hand. Were sapphire trees so few now that they needed protection? In some ways, it reminded me of my people.

We, too, had once glowed brightly.

Chapter Ten—The Letter

M
ost of the Rada travelled home in animal form, carrying those who were injured or couldn’t morph. Ivon helped Sarlice and I carry our gear back to the horses that were busy cropping grass and chewing it over their bits.

The forest was eerily silent as we hurried through. Namal was anxious to return to Jaria in case the Zeikas attacked again, but our enemies did not pursue.
Why?
There would be less than two hundred in Jaria once we arrived. It would be easy pickings for the Zeikas.

‘You caught them off guard,’
Tiaro said.
‘They realise the mistake they made last night. Jonaal must recalculate Jaria’s defences before their next attack, especially if it now has a new Anzaii.’

‘Me?’

‘Of course.’

A frightening thought occurred to me,
‘Tiaro, do you think the attack on Feera had anything to do with the Zeika attack?’

‘It does seem to have been convenient for them.’

It didn’t make sense that an extremist cult could have connections with the Zeikas. Fanatical they may be, but from what the murderer, Dugan, had said the Wavekeepers considered them the enemy. Dugan had inferred that the only way to prevent the Zeikas from capturing and using Anzaii was by killing us.

Rekala, walking slowly through the forest behind us, said,
‘You can hope it was an isolated attack and you’ll never hear from those hunters again. If I had only been there I might have intervened….’

‘It happened so suddenly. Not even Namal’s Rada-kin, Josker, could see it coming.’

‘Talon,’
Kestric said, unaware that he was interrupting my private conversation with Tiaro and Rekala,
‘Some of the other Rada-kin want to know if you are certain there are no scrying marks in the forest. The Zeikas could be watching us at this very moment.’

‘I think I would have noticed,’
I replied.
‘But I’ll pay more attention.’

‘Lightmaker, reveal these marks to me,’ I requested under my breath.

Speaking to Tiaro, Kestric and myself, Rekala asked,
‘Why is there such a tremendous war raging between the Kriites and the Zeikas?’

‘It’s not simple, and I don’t pretend to have all the answers,’
I began,
‘but in essence the Zeikas will not abide us because we have a different view to them on who created the world, who rules it and how we are to live in it.’

‘Why not just let them have their way? Would they leave you in peace if you swore allegiance to this Zeidarb?’

‘You are still new to human culture, so you may not realise how such differences in worldview affect the behaviour and customs of a group of people,’ I replied. ‘The Zeikas support all kinds of atrocities that Kriites abhor. They kill in cold blood, not only their enemies but anyone who gets in the way and is too weak to defend themselves.

‘Zeikas lie with anyone they feel like and count it a personal success to father offspring with as many different women as possible.’

‘That reminds me of some icetigers I used to know,’
Rekala said.

‘It may be acceptable among animals, but it is not good for the human soul or for the children.

‘Zeikas build their kingdoms on the backs of slaves, and their womenfolk are treated like chattel.’

‘These two opposing views cannot abide each other. Neither group wants the other to defame their god, or have any control to prevent the other from living the way they like. That is why there’s so much conflict between Zeikas and Kriites.’

‘Aye.’

‘Why can’t you just leave each other alone?’

‘I’m sure most Kriites would do just that. We prefer not to go to war. Zeikas, on the other hand, have a mandate in their codes that any who disbelieve or worship a god other than Zeidarb must convert or else the Zeika has the right to enslave or kill them.’

‘Haven’t you tried to reason with them—stake out territories where they’re allowed to live the way they like and you’re allowed to follow your own beliefs?’

Her mind illustrated this concept with the scent-marking of trees and bushes that was common practice among wild tigers.

‘The Zeikas have mostly stayed out of Telby since their exile,’ I replied, ‘but it seems that they’ve had enough of leaving us alone. They consider it their mission to rid the world of the Kriite way of life, and they believe it is their right to rule, in the name of Zei.’

Throughout the rest of the day Sarlice, Kestric, Rekala and I travelled with six others. We were bringing up the rear, just in case the Zeikas tried to follow. With my new ability to banish wards, spirit circles and conjurations, I had a distinct advantage over the others.

As we neared Jaria that afternoon, I detected three scrying marks, which I removed in much the same way as I had banished the demon from Rekala’s ward. Sy-tré made his appearance in the waves each time, and disappeared as quickly as he had come. It made me think the spirit realm was a much different place from the waves, and that Sy-tré could only cross for a short time after being invited. I was thankful for the mechanisms the Lightmaker had introduced when he first created the Anzaii abilities. It gave me a measure of certainly and control that some Kriites with other gifts, like healing, rarely had.

Sarlice, Kestric and Rekala went with me on a quick foray around the outskirts of Jaria Village, hunting for more marks. I found ten altogether, and called Sy-tré to banish them one after the other.

When we finally made our way into the village, the day-star was starting to retreat, and the two moons, Capril and Naeva, were visible in the pre-twilight sky. Charred debris scattered the village grounds, and the reek of smoke and magic still clung to every surface. The smell of spit-roast goat had Rekala salivating when we were half a mile away from the village centre. Eventually it reached my nostrils, reminding me I had eaten only rations since the battle here.

Sarlice has got to be at least as hungry as me
. I felt a thrill at the idea of serving her before myself. Jarians valued such selfless behaviour, and it was a good excuse to remain near the Lythian. Having been through the rescue with her, I felt unusually drawn to her. I couldn’t help wondering what she thought of me.

Waving off the advances of a healer, I urged her to attend to Sarlice while I collected some food. Upon my return, the Lythian rewarded me with a generous smile.

‘Have you many friends here?’ Sarlice asked.

I shrugged. ‘Jaria is my home—its people are my family. You don’t get to choose your family, nor can they choose you, but you love them nonetheless.’

Rekala sat up and whined.

‘Sorry, girl,’ I muttered, bending down to place the food in front of her.

I sat beside her and rubbed her back, dismayed when patches of greyish-blue fur came off in my hands. Her wounds were already healing, and I could sense the great cat’s strength slowly returning, but it would be some days before she was back to normal.

Once Sarlice’s wounds were treated, she sat in the leather and wood chair beside me to eat. I was glad she didn’t leave—I worried that, any time now, she would announce what business she had to attend to as Ambassador and be on her way. Then I would never see her again. Kestric looked up at me, surprised.

‘You must teach me how to shield my thoughts,’
I said to Tiaro.

‘Yes,’
she agreed.
‘You are like an uncurled scroll at the moment, broadwaving when you don’t mean to and letting thoughts out to those who are listening keenly. Yet I do not think you have anything to fear from Kestric and Sarlice.’

‘Talon, there you are.’

‘Bessed,’ I said, turning to face him. ‘Why are you wearing the ephod of prime?’

‘I’ve been elected as prime,’ he replied solemnly.

I gestured at the spare chair in front of me and my foster father sat with a deep sigh. Rekala lay on her side and groomed herself.

‘This is my foster father, Bessed,’ I told Sarlice.

‘We’ve met,’ she replied. ‘Congratulations on your appointment, Prime.’

‘How will you manage it all?’ I asked. Bessed was capable, but the position of Quartermaster was demanding enough all on its own.

‘Drea will run the storehouses and I will do my best to lead Jaria, or what’s left of it.’

I cast my eyes around the village, saddened by the destruction. A dozen fresh graves had been dug in the cemetery, which was just visible in the distance.

‘I’m sure you’ll lead us well,’ I said.

‘My thanks for the encouragement, Talon. As Prime, I was privy to the village’s most recent mail. That letter you brought to Namal from Damia and Annie… was from your father.’

I shifted so that I was leaning against Rekala’s back. With effort, I forced myself to remain calm. A letter from my father so many years after his passing! Sarlice looked on with respectful silence, stroking Kestic’s ears.

‘Damia scribbled a note at the top,’ Bessed said. ‘Let me read it all to you.’

‘Namal,

Mandus asked me to send a letter once, years ago. Days later he told me to burn it and never say a word. He was back in Jaria, then, and there seemed no reason to keep it. As you can see, I did keep it. For some months I had been feeling that Sy-tré wanted me to pass it on. Then Talon arrived on our doorstep and it all became clear. You better show him. He has a right to know.

DAMIA

Jaria,

I don’t know myself anymore. My heart has departed this world. I wanted to thank you, my people, for letting me search for Kerra and the other captives. Then I wanted to curse you. Ten months. She tried to say ‘farewell’, but only got halfway. I never saw the child who stole her life away. She made me promise to see it safe. I failed her. If I ever find it I know I will hate it for killing her.

Bal Harar appears to have put a great deal of planning into capturing Kerra but, true to form, she defied him by dying in childbirth. Perhaps this list I have enclosed will help you more than it has helped me. Not a single name on it revealed any sense to this Zeika madness.

Kerra’s aunty will not come home with me. Jaalta has abandoned us to live among people who were once enemies.

Perhaps some good has come of this. At long last I have been shown that the Tanzans are not our enemies and never were. I don’t know what will happen, but may Sy-tré run with you.

MANDUS—
Your commander
Your servant
Your friend.’

It hurt slightly that my father’s letter did not even mention me. That letter must have been written shortly after my mother had died. Had my father been planning not to return to Ella and me in Jaria? Perhaps he had intended to ride back alone to search for this mysterious child. If so, he must have changed his mind. In all the years that followed his return he never even mentioned that my mother had been pregnant to a Zeika.
Do I blame him?

I scrubbed at my forehead and felt sweat come off on my fingers.

Rekala sat up, whined and pushed her back against me. I reached out to receive the letter from Bessed’s outstretched hand and sat for a moment re-reading it. Surely there was something, anything, more. I ignored inquisitive looks from around the campfire. The list of names my father mentioned was equally frustrating. Written in Reltic, it had a rough Telbion translation scrawled alongside. Some spaces were blank and some names were underlined, but there was no key to understand it.

Mosera
and
Isvan

Jodhi
and Lersa

Varid
and Igivorn

… and
Nikayai

… and


and Jueli

Tegran
and Isola

Nion
and
Kerran

Kamla
and …

Cristo and
Isedrea

Ballex and
Niria

Veeri
and
Chapad

Eillana
and …

Jodhi
and Rosa

Kerra

I recognised the names of my grandparents on my mother’s side and my great grandparents on her father’s side. Beyond that were the names of my mother’s ancestors going back through one side of parentage with each generation. A fragment of a genealogy, it was a clue to why the Zeikas wanted Kerra so badly.

Namal and two of the other village leaders, Curn and Rundo, came to sit by Bessed. The nine of us, including Uola and the two tigers, formed a rough circle. I could sense Rundo’s Rada-kin close behind him, but Curn’s was away helping Drea and some others transport goods from the storehouse.

‘It can’t be true,’ I stammered. ‘Someone would have said something.’

Bessed glanced around at the others and said, ‘When your father came back from your mother’s grave he secluded himself for weeks.’

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