The Assassin's Edge (Einarinn 5) (60 page)

“Aft cabin,” the man answered in deadened tones.

“Does she live?” Temar demanded as he flung open the door.

Guinalle knelt on the floor, face cupped in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Allin lay motionless in one bunk, face turned to the wall. Usara had been laid on the other side, hands folded neatly on his breast, head tilted back, cheeks hollow and bloodless in the gloom.

“Does she live?” Fury born of terror hardened Temar’s tone.

“Barely.” Guinalle scrubbed tears from her face, leaving smears of dirt. “I can’t get them warm,” she sobbed suddenly. “Neither of them. No matter what I do. I can’t get them warm.”

Her eyes rolled up in her head and Temar only just caught her before she crashed to the unforgiving floor.

CHAPTER EIGHT

To Gamar Tilot, Scholar of the University of Col,

From Ely Laisen, Hadrumal.

Dear Gamar,

Some curious things have been turning up in our libraries lately and our mutual friend thought this might be of interest. It seems to have been written within the last generation, possibly even the last handful of years. The original is some kind of verse but the Mountain lass who translated it is far too much of a clod to compose anything like it herself.

Tale of the Burning of Haeldasekke

The men of Dachasekke had long shared the Grey Seal Isle with the men of Haeldasekke. The isle bore no stones and thus men of each blood kindred returned to their own circles for justice, pleas and guidance.

So it came to pass on the whitest of nights that his ancestors sent a vision to the Clan Chief of Dachasekke and he vowed to raise a circle on the Grey Seal Isle on a rocky knoll where there was no soil for plough nor yet fodder for grazing. The Clan Chief of Haeldasekke had no such vision but, though the more influential, would not gainsay Kolbin of Dachasekke’s right to honour the dead within their own bounds.

All was well until the time of hay and harvest. Then the men of Dachasekke invited those of Haeldasekke dwelling on the Grey Seal Isle to step within their circle to honour those below the earth. This circle is closer to your homes, they said. Let us hold it in common, as we have blood in common. The Clan Chief of Haeldasekke decided he would hold more land in common if Dachasekke was wont to be so generous. He moved boundary cairns to claim the whole of the Lesser Slough once Dachasekke had made harvest.

The Clan Chief of Dachasekke was angered and summoned Scafet of Haeldasekke to meet him on the black sands of treaty that lie in the strait between his fastness and the Grey Seal Isle. He summoned Fedin of Evadasekke to stand as Law Speaker but the men of Haeldasekke would not accept him. Nor yet would they propose a Law Speaker of their own, denying any wrongdoing on their part that would justify a Law Speaker coming within their domain. The Clan Chief of Haeldasekke would not discuss the cairns but told Kolbin of Dachasekke instead of his plans to wed a daughter of Kehannasekke when the time of goat killing came.

Kolbin of Dachasekke saw this would leave him with unfriendly faces to both his flanks. He acquiesced and slew those who had invited men of Haeldasekke within their circle before withdrawing to his fastness. At the time of goat killing Scafet of Haeldasekke’s son Osmaeld married Renkana daughter to Rafekan of Kehannasekke beneath an arch of raised turf. He was an able boy with a strong spear arm while she was both promising of body and fair of face. No Law Speaker was called to stand witness to the wedding as Scafet of Haeldasekke and Rafekan of Kehannasekke agreed bride price and dowry were matters best agreed between themselves alone. Both kindreds made merry to the final part of the night.

The days of dark and hunger came and all men withdrew to their firesides. The darkest of nights came and word spread that a scorn pole had been found outside the hall of Kehannasekke’s fastness when the sun rose again. It was carved with the likeness of Renkana being used by Scafet as a dog does a bitch. No one knew whose hand raised it. Rafekan burned it and strewed the ashes into the sea, ignoring those who called this unmanly behaviour.

The hall of Haeldasekke’s fastness burned the following night.

All within the hall were killed. When the fire cooled, dead were found locked within their bed closets and the main door barred from without. Every bone was charred and broken and none could be buried without dishonour. The Clan Chief of Thrielsekke whose sister was wife to Scafet of Haeldasekke demanded that Rafekan of Kehannasekke summon a Law Speaker to determine the truth of the outrage. The Clan Chief of Kehannasekke refused, saying Scafet had suffered the judgement of his ancestors for dishonouring the wife of his son.

In the early days of the following summer Ilkehan of Kehannasekke threw down his father Rafekan and, being a capable man, was acclaimed as Clan Chief At the time of hay and harvest, Ilkehan of Kehannasekke and Kolbin of Dachasekke divided the Grey Seal Isle between themselves. The Clan Chiefs of Thrielsekke and Evadasekke both demanded they justify this action before a Law Speaker but none could be found whom all could agree on.

At the time of goat killing, the Clan Chief of Kehannasekke raised a circle for the men of the Grey Seal Isle now of Kehannasekke on a rocky knoll where there was no soil for plough nor yet fodder for grazing.

Kehannasekke, Islands of the Elietimm,

11th of For-Summer

My first thought on waking was astonishment that I could have closed my eyes long enough to fall asleep. The second was utter determination to get out of this black hole. I was on my feet with my next breath.

“Livak?” Ryshad’s voice came from somewhere in the blackness.

“Who are you expecting?” Sorgrad’s voice was amused.

“Some long-dead Elietimm?” queried ’Gren with relish.

“That’s not funny,” I said severely. Realising Ryshad’s jerkin had pillowed my head, I bent down to pick it up. No one could see me so I held it close to breathe in the reassuring scent of him.

The stones began to glow with the nimbus of magelight. “Good morning.” Shiv unfolded his long limbs from the niche and yawned. “You wouldn’t believe how stiff I am.”

“Trust me, I can.” I stretched my arms above my head in a vain attempt to ease the kinks out of my back. “Let’s sleep in proper beds tonight.”

The strengthening light reached Ryshad sitting at the base of the stair. He smiled at me with unmistakable promise. I winked pertly at him before turning serious. “Do we have any notion if Elietimm are still netting this burrow?”

“I went up top when I woke.” ’Gren shrugged in the pale light radiating from the far wall. “I couldn’t hear a thing.”

“That’s the good news.” Sorgrad perched unconcerned in one of the bone-filled niches. “The bad news is that’s definitely the only way out of here.”

“Definitely.” Ryshad confirmed our predicament. If the brothers brought up in the cave-riddled mountains and Ryshad with his knowledge of stone working couldn’t find another door, there wasn’t one to find. “Shiv, can you tell if there’s anyone up above?”

The nondescript light deepened to a pool of mossy green around the mage and a puddle of water coalesced in his cupped hands. He grimaced. “Can someone drop some ink in here, please?”

Ryshad obliged from his belt pouch.

“Why are you carrying ink?” asked ’Gren with interest.

“You never know when you might want some.” Ryshad was looking at the mage as intently as the rest of us. “Just a quick look, Shiv. We don’t want you falling foul of some adept out to revenge Ilkehan.”

Shiv nodded. “There’s no one waiting for us.” He splashed the water into his face to wash the sleep from his eyes. I was about to point out there’d been ink in it but, with blue paint still coating us all, there wasn’t much point.

“Where are we heading?” Sorgrad jumped down to the floor and crossed to the stair, his boots echoing on the stone floor. I joined him, ’Gren ushering Shiv ahead and taking up the rearguard.

“We get well away from here, then we let Halice and Temar know Ilkehan’s out of the game. They can set about throwing Muredarch and his wharf rats into the ocean.” Ryshad reached down to my raised hand and pulled me up beside him. I brushed a brief kiss across his cheek as I returned his jerkin.

“I need a shave,” he grimaced.

“I’ll forgive you, just this once,” I mocked affectionately.

Sorgrad led the way up the narrow and deliberately disorienting stair. I followed Ryshad, so glad to be leaving this eerie charnel house I had to hold back from shoving him along as he deliberately placed his boots noiselessly on each slab. That reminded me we weren’t safe till we were well clear of all the Elietimm with their mysterious powers and intrigues. Until then, we needed to watch our every step. No one ever got hung for being too cautious.

Mind you; no one ever got rich, either. I wondered privately just what kind of reward the Sieur D’Alsennin might be inclined to give us. With Halice to lead his troops, Temar should win enough booty from the pirates to remedy Kellarin’s woeful lack of coin. I’d need a reasonable coffer to get myself launched into the wine trade, after all.

Ahead of me, Ryshad stopped, bringing me rudely back to the here and now. He bent beneath the stone slab, braced to lift it. Sorgrad had a dagger in each hand. He nodded and Ryshad heaved the solid slab up to drop it with a thud.

They were both out of the hole together. Ryshad swung round to his offside, alert for anything unexpected. Sorgrad met him coming the other way.

“All clear.”

“No one here.”

That was enough for me and I scrambled out. It was well into morning up top, the light painfully bright for the first few moments. The sky was pale blue with improbably fluffy clouds rising in serried ranks from the west. The breeze was cool and refreshing on my face after the hushed stillness of the hargeard chamber. Then the acrid sharpness of burnt timber caught me by the throat and I coughed uncontrollably. I tried to stop but only succeeded in half choking myself.

Ryshad caught me by one arm. “Watch your step.”

Blinking through tears, I saw the top of the mound was strewn with fragments of shattered stone and burnt, splintered timber.

“That’s a good job done, I’d say,” remarked Sorgrad with pride.

“Definitely,” Shiv agreed wryly.

“Has anyone got any food?” ’Gren walked cautiously to the edge of the mound, shielding himself behind the broken stump of a sarsen.

I got my coughing under control. “Not me.”

Ryshad shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Save the day in a ballad and your hero gets a banquet and a willing princess,” ’Gren grumbled. “Let’s see if we can get back in time to help Halice fight the pirates.”

“The faster we let them know what’s happened, the better,” Ryshad allowed.

“Do I work the spell here?” Shiv looked at him.

“Time’s pressing,” I pointed out.

Ryshad shrugged. “Let’s see what happens.”

“I’ll work the spell with as much finesse as I can.” Shiv dug in his pack for his silver salver and then swore. “I’ve no candles.”

Sorgrad picked up a dewed fragment of blackened wood. “Try this.”

“I’ll do my best.” Shiv managed to summon a subdued flicker of scarlet from the brand. “Usara?”

We all waited expectantly. Nothing happened. Shiv frowned and snuffed out his flame with a workaday gesture. “He must be asleep.” Squaring his shoulders, he brought renewed fire to the wood. “Allin? Allin, it’s me, Shiv.”

The shining silver stayed obstinately blank. We all looked at Shiv and I wasn’t reassured to see his face mirror my own confusion.

“Do you want something else shiny?” ’Gren reached for his pack’s buckle.

Shiv frowned. “That won’t make a difference.”

“What would?” Ryshad asked bluntly.

Shiv didn’t answer, lifting the salver again and focusing all his attention on it. “Larissa?” The wood burned with a ferocious crimson. “Curse it!” Shiv swept the brand through the air to kill the flame, relighting it in the next breath. “Darni!”

“They can’t all be asleep, surely?” I heard concern catch in my voice.

“Is there some aetheric hindrance?” Ryshad asked, perplexed

“There’s no power here any more.” Sorgrad spoke up as Shiv shook his head. “It’s like the Shernasekke hargeard; nothing to react to the magic.” He walked round in a slow circle. “We’d have heard that bell sound if there was.”

Ryshad’s thoughts were long leagues away. “We have to let Temar and Halice know they can attack the pirates. Shiv, what else can you do? Livak, do you have any Artifice to contact Guinalle?”

“I’m afraid not.” I was sorry to have to disappoint him.

“Let’s see what scrying can show us.” Shiv cast aside the blackened wood and knelt on the damp grass. He laid the salver flat and dew sparkled briefly as it rolled across the turf, oozing over the metal to form a thickening emerald skin. Ryshad handed over his pot of ink and Shiv let a single drop fall from the stopper.

We crowded round. It took me a moment to realise the green mists had dissipated because initially all we saw were green leaves of almost exactly the same hue. Shiv drew the vision along the shore until we saw the camp laid out before us, neat campfires with people busy about them.

“That looks orderly enough.” I held both relief and worry firmly in check. There were more campfires than I expected but nowhere near enough people.

Ryshad was seeing the same as me. “Where’s Halice? Temar?”

Shiv wasn’t listening. He betrayed a sigh of release as the scrying found Pered standing outside the hut the pirates had left us, deep in conversation with someone I didn’t recognise. Whoever he was, someone had given him the worst beating I’d seen outside a mercenary camp.

I held my peace, counting a silent handful of heartbeats so Shiv could be sure his beloved was fine.

’Gren had no such delicacy. ”Where’s Halice, curse you!”

“Give me a moment.” Pered’s face faded and the water dulled to a stagnant jade before new magic suffused the water with verdant brilliance.