The Awakening (37 page)

‘Bring me my harp, girl,’ said the High Priestess. She was standing alone in the prow, watching the sun rise. Erin, nervous at being so close to Morag, scurried to obey. The Novices were rostered to serve the High Priestess and, every time her turn came, Erin panicked. It was not that the High Priestess had ever been unpleasant or threatening, it was just that she radiated power. There was something about her that frightened the timid girl.

She was well aware that many things frightened her, but Morag was different. Her casual disregard for the feelings of others, her almost callous treatment of Hylin as well as the way she seemed unconcerned by the death of Hwenfayre made the young Novice more than afraid. She found herself becoming increasingly angry.

It was an unfamiliar feeling for Erin. She was comfortable with feeling fear, helplessness was normal, but anger was new and she was unsure what to do with it. She considered talking to Sara or Maeve, but they had never been kind to her or understood her gentle nature. The only person who
had ever really spent time with her had been Hwenfayre.

As she gathered the beautiful bleached driftwood harp from the High Priestess’s cabin she was startled by a voice.

‘Be careful with that, Novice.’

Erin looked up, the harp slipping in her grasp. Hurriedly she clasped it to her chest as she looked to who had spoken.

Declan was slouched in a chair, partially in shadow. He did not move as he spoke. ‘That harp is worth more than your life, Novice Erin,’ he observed. ‘Worth more than any of our lives in fact.’

Not knowing what to say, Erin nodded.

‘You have no idea what I am talking about, do you?’ he asked. When she shook her head, he smiled and leaned forward. ‘No, you wouldn’t—but you should. You know her. You probably know her better than any of us. And even you don’t know the value of that instrument.’

Confused, Erin could merely stare at him.

‘Hwenfayre,’ he mused. ‘She could have saved us all, you know.’

‘Saved us?’

Declan grinned wryly as he nodded. ‘But she didn’t and now she will probably destroy us all.’ As he spoke, he rocked back and raised a bottle to his lips. ‘I’m a little drunk,’ he said. ‘But you could work that out for yourself, couldn’t you?’ He leered at her, a look that made Erin take a hurried step backwards. ‘You are a delicate little thing, aren’t you? But don’t worry, my life is pledged to that evil bitch we both call High Priestess. Oh, I see that surprises you. And
I would think less of you if it didn’t. Not that I ever actually think of you, but well, there it is.’ He took another drink, some of the liquid trickling down his chin. ‘She tried to kill her. You didn’t know that, did you? Our beloved Morag had the innocent Hwenfayre thrown overboard. She didn’t slip or get washed away, she was thrown.’ He wiped his chin with the back of his hand. As he stared at the liquor on his hand, his eyes suddenly filled with tears. ‘I’ve killed us all,’ he said. ‘The gentle Hwenfayre won’t be so gentle with us. Not now that we tried to kill her.’

Erin was frowning as she tried to understand what Declan meant. ‘
Tried
to kill her?’ she asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Declan, brightening slightly. ‘You can’t kill the Mistress of the Waters by throwing her into the water, can you? Oh no, the Sea gave her back. But we’ve had our chance. She gave Hwenfayre to the Southern Raiders. And now we’re all dead.’ Tears started to fall down his unshaven cheeks. He raised his bottle in mocking salute to Erin. ‘And so I drink to life.’

‘But you…’ Erin started.

‘But I am her lover?’ Declan completed for her. ‘Is that what you mean, gentle Erin?’

The young Novice nodded.

‘I am, to my shame, yes. But I have recently realised something about our beloved High Priestess that everyone else on the water has known for seasons.’ He raised the bottle to his lips again and took a long drink. When he was finished, he threw the empty bottle against the wall of the cabin, where it shattered. ‘I thought she loved me, you know,’ he
said. ‘I always thought that beyond all the lies, the duplicity, she truly loved me. But you know what I just found out?’ Declan tried to lever himself up from the chair, but failed. He slumped back down, defeated by gravity, the drink and his own weakness. ‘She never loved me, not from the very start. I was always just a part of her mother’s plan.’ He dropped his head into his hands, so that when he spoke his voice was muffled. Erin had to strain to hear. ‘All the lies,’ he muttered. ‘All the deaths, everything I have ever done for her, all for her, all for a lie.’

They hunt us.
They are too many.
We must flee!
There, go there! They do not hunt us there!
Tell the nestlings, we go there!
Run!

Shanek signalled to Raol. ‘They’re breaking up. Take the bolas teams and block their escape. Over there.’

Raol saw the signals and signalled his understanding. Silently he gestured to the bolas teams and they moved quietly through the long grass to where the remaining Skrin Tia’k would soon be fleeing.

One of the early things Shanek had learned about the ancient enemy was that they had poor eyesight but very good hearing. They relied upon hearing the humans’ shouted commands in a battle. By using the old battle signalling, Shanek effectively neutralised one of the most powerful advantages the Skrinnies had in a fight. They could understand speech, but humans could not understand their clicking. The
Skrin Tia’k also relied upon hearing the hooves of horses, long before they saw them. By reverting to infantry, Shanek removed that advantage. Even a large command like his could hide in the long grasses of the Great Fastness and lie in wait for a knot. The only problem was knowing where the Skrin Tia’k would be. Shanek had removed that difficulty too.

Maru’s company contained several skilled bolas-men. Shanek employed them to teach others in the proficient use of the ancient weapon to set up the specialist teams that now went to block the Skrinnie retreat. Whilst swords, spears and battleaxes were efficient enough, when it came to bringing down a running Skrin Tia’k nothing could touch the bolas. When thrown at the running limbs, either just the rear two or both sets, including the attack limbs, the bolas could entangle and break them. The ululating squeal of a broken Skrinnie could slow or stop others, even in the midst of a full retreat. Three well-thrown bolases could rout a whole knot.

They wait!
They know!
It is the Maimer. It hunts us!
Save yourselves, nestlings!

The Skrinnies had learned of Shanek’s methods. They had learned to fear the one they called the Maimer. Shanek felt their fear and revelled in it. The whistle of several bolases, followed by the squeals of at least three Skrinnies, signalled the effective end of another battle.

A few crunching sounds, some more squealing, and the last Skrin Tia’k crackled dead to the ground, its greenish ichor seeping into the ground to join that of so many of its fellows. This vast open area had seen more than its fair share of vicious battles over the centuries.

Tonight?
Yes, tonight. Spread the word. Tonight we move.

Shanek frowned as the random thoughts drifted through his mind. He was expecting it.

Shanek’s Seekers, as they now called themselves, stood and cheered. Another easy win. Another big haul of wealth. Despite their greatly increased numbers, they were all now very wealthy bandits. And it was time to celebrate, Shanek realised. Some of them had been out here in the Fastness for over a year. He had been here nearly a year himself, and he felt the need for some comfort and some luxury. He looked at Maru. The wiry Tribesman grinned back at him.

Shanek made a decision. ‘Back to Mischa’s Outpost!’ he called. ‘Tonight we feast!’

The Seekers roared in appreciation. As they turned for the ruin that they called home, Shanek pulled Ejaj aside. ‘Keep a careful eye on Maru and his Tribesmen. They are treacherous,’ he said.

Ejaj had long since given up questioning what Shanek told him. He’d known him to be right too often. He nodded and turned to leave. Shanek grabbed his arm.

‘Stay sober and keep all of ours sober. Treachery
is close,’ he hissed. ‘Trust me on this. Maru is dangerous.’

They ran for the rest of the day and made Mischa’s Outpost by nightfall. A campfire was already lit, prepared by the cooks. One advantage that Maru’s troop brought with them was the presence of cooks, hunters and the other specialists that a band of twelve could not have. Mischa’s Outpost had been rapidly transformed into a home, rather than a makeshift campsite.

A meal fit for a celebration was underway, with three large stags roasting on spits and a massive pot of bubbling vegetable stew. The exhausted but happy Seekers jogged into their new home, burdened with treasure, full of grand plans.

Skrin Tia’k had a particularly fiery liquor they called Uryt’as and the Seekers had developed a taste for it. Most knots carried at least one or two casks. Shanek normally insisted on a strict rationing of the supplies, but tonight was special.

‘Break open the casks,’ he said to Bartin. Maru’s second-in-command had proved himself a capable leader, and Shanek sensed no guile in him. Bartin nodded.

‘Good idea, Shanek,’ he said.

Are you trying to make this easy for us, you fool?

Is he that subtle?

No, but he may be that overconfident.

How could he know? Should we wait?

He can’t. No one has broken faith. Nothing has changed. Tonight we strike.

The night was clear, the air was sharp with the smells of ash and ice, and the wind was swirling as if unsure. Shanek’s Seekers were happy. Their bellies were full of good food, their minds were full of wealth and their heads were full of Uryt’as. Laughter and song rang out across the Great Fastness as it had not done for hundreds of years. Almost, almost, Shanek could forget why he was here.

Tirace, a woman from Maru’s command, sidled up to him. ‘Shanek,’ she slurred. ‘Come dance with me.’ Her brown hair was cut short and she smelt of Uryt’as, but she was willing and full-bodied. He shook his head.

‘Not tonight,’ he said.

She pouted. ‘Why not? What is wrong with me?’

‘Nothing, Tirace.’

‘Then come dance, Shanek.’

‘I said no.’

‘You don’t like me, is that it?’

‘No.’ He had already looked away from her, he was watching Ejaj as he moved through the happy throng, talking to the original members of his troop, making sure they stayed sober.

Tirace walked away, sullen and upset at Shanek’s rejection. He barely noticed her leave, so intent was he on the party before him. Watching it with both his eyes and his mind gave him an oddly out-of-focus view. It was like two images overlaid, one showing the normal boisterous singing and laughing of a drunk and happy group of people, the other showing the slow separation of friend and foe.

There were not many foe, only sixteen, all Tribesmen. As the night progressed and the Uryt’as
flowed, they gradually spread themselves out into a pattern that Shanek felt he recognised. As it became more obvious, his suspicions became knowledge. At the moment he knew what was happening, a flicker of fear was born in his breast. This was no ordinary treachery—they had structured their attack like a Skrin Tia’k knot.

Ananda was close to him, as she had been all night. He had been amused to sense a pang of jealousy, followed by an equally strong moment of pleasure when he spoke with and then rejected Tirace.

‘Ananda,’ he hissed. ‘Come here.’

‘Shanek?’ she replied.

As she moved in closer, he took her in his arms and held her tight, his mouth close to her ear.

‘Listen closely and don’t interrupt.’ For the next few minutes he spoke quickly, outlining his plan and giving orders whilst pretending to caress and fondle her. When he was finished, he said, ‘Now slap me and stalk away. Go to Ejaj and alert the others.’

The slap Ananda gave him was convincing. His cheek stung and reddened. As she spun on her heel, she gave him a wink and a smile. Ananda walked away a happy woman.

Shanek touched his cheek.
I know exactly how she’s feeling, and I still don’t understand her,
he thought. Out loud, he said, ‘Women!’

‘We’re not all like her,’ said Tirace.

Shanek knew she had come back but acted surprised. ‘I’ve heard that before,’ he said ruefully.

‘Come,’ said Tirace, holding out her hand to him. ‘Let me show you how different I can be.’

Shanek rubbed at his cheek and looked towards where Ananda was now snuggling up to Ejaj. He nodded. ‘Why not?’ he said. The small, lithe woman led Shanek away to a darkened spot, away from the firelight, where she pulled him down onto the soft, cool earth.

As the revellers slipped into blissful unconsciousness, others, all with bone-white hair and tattooed bodies, arose from feigned sleep and crept among the unaware. Swords drawn, they were looking for a specific man who was watching them from the darkness beyond the flickering light of the dying fire. Beside him, Ejaj stood silently.

‘Now,’ whispered Shanek.

At his word, Ejaj gave the call and ten archers stood up from behind the ruined wall that bounded the outpost’s northern edge. As one, they released their arrows and ten Tribesmen died. There was a second flight of arrows in the air before the sound of the bodies hitting the ground reached their ears. Four more died where they stood, leaving Maru standing alone. His disbelief at the sudden destruction of his plan was exceeded only by his fear at the sound of Shanek’s bolas. The barbed cord wrapped around his legs, the heavy balls smashing into his knees, driving him to the ground with a scream of agony. He fell heavily on a sleeping man who was so drunk he didn’t even wake up.

Ejaj dashed through the snoring bodies to the screaming Maru. With a carefully weighted blow to the base of his skull, he stopped the noise. He heaved
the unconscious man onto his shoulders and carried him back to where Shanek waited.

‘Put him there,’ instructed Shanek, indicating towards the bound, gagged but fully conscious Tirace. ‘Let him seek Rest beside his slut.’ Tirace stared. ‘What, you think I didn’t know? You poor idiot. I’ve had better than you try to seduce me before. You’re not even very good at it.’

Shanek grabbed a waterskin and emptied it on Maru. The wiry Tribesman coughed and spluttered as he regained consciousness. He struggled against his bonds but stopped when Shanek knelt on his chest.

‘See this?’ asked Shanek. In his hand he held a long, needle-sharp poignard. It glowed in the starlight. ‘It’s called the Thane’s Needle. It is given to a soldier in the Army of the World on promotion to the rank of Coerl. I took it off the body of a soldier I killed.’

Maru’s eyes widened in alarm as Shanek rested the sliver of metal, point down, over his heart.

‘I think your treachery is something more than simple greed. If greed was all I was concerned about, I’d just cut a few pieces off you and be done with it, but you are not a simple thief, are you, Maru?’

Despite the fear of what Shanek had threatened, Maru shook his head and tried to speak.

‘Perhaps I should take that gag off to let you speak in your own defence?’

Maru nodded.

Shanek slashed upwards with the Needle. Maru shrieked with pain as the knife opened his cheek to the bone as Shanek cut the gag.

‘Stop squealing or I’ll hurt you,’ snapped Shanek. Maru choked back his cries. ‘Better,’ said Shanek,
resting the Needle back over Maru’s heart. ‘Now tell me, what is your relationship with the Skrin Tia’k?’

Maru gaped in shock. ‘Nothing,’ he rasped.

‘No one alive knows Skrin Tia’k battle strategies better than me and your men are trained to fight like a warrior knot. I’ve been watching. And tonight they mounted a Skrinnie ambush. You are working with them somehow. I want to know how and why.’

‘You’re mad,’ gasped Maru. ‘The Skrinnies never work with—’ He died with a surprised gasp as the Thane’s Needle slid easily into his heart.

‘Why did you kill him?’ cried Ejaj. ‘If he’s working with the Skrinnies we need to know more!’

Shanek pulled the Needle out and wiped it on Maru’s cloak. He stood. ‘Kill her,’ he said, indicating Tirace.

Ananda cut her throat with a single stroke and followed Shanek back to the campfire. Standing over the two dead bodies, Ejaj watched them go in disbelief.

Walking away, Shanek felt Ananda’s thoughts. He had not paid her much heed, but tonight when he had taken her into his confidence, and then told her to kill Tirace, he sensed her infatuation with him shift into something else. She changed her relationship with him on a profound level. She no longer wanted him in the way some women want the strongest male, she shifted to being loyal. True, she still wanted him, but as she walked beside him, she unconsciously changed. With a shock, he realised she would follow him out of some totally different motivation. He tried to decide what it was but as soon as the change in her mind had happened, his awareness of her trickled
away, like water flowing out of a basin. He grasped at the change but it slipped through his mental awareness to vanish forever. Within heartbeats, she had faded from his senses. He stopped to look at her. She returned his look.

‘What is it, Shanek?’ she asked.

‘Oddly, it’s nothing,’ he answered. ‘Truly nothing, and that’s the most peculiar thing about it.’

By dawn, all traces of Maru’s abortive attempt were gone. Several comrades of the missing fighters were puzzled but accepted the story that they had decided to try their luck further north. The ease with which they accepted the rather flimsy tale confirmed Shanek’s suspicion; the Tribesmen were a group within a group.

The headaches and various bruises were mostly forgotten by the time the sun was halfway to its height. Shanek’s announcement that they were heading to Herald’s View raised spirits even more.

Herald’s View was a frontier town half a day’s ride south of Mischa’s Outpost. It boasted a marketplace, three taverns, four brothels and a garrison of the Army of the World. If they left now they’d be there before dusk. With their accumulated wealth, the night promised much.

‘Ejaj,’ said Shanek. ‘A word.’

‘Shanek,’ said Ejaj.

‘I want you to take them into town. They need to let off steam. Make sure they spend as much of their money as they can. I want that Skrinnie treasure in circulation. Tell anyone anything you want them to know, except where you are based.’