The Plains of Kallanash (51 page)

“What’s
she
doing here?” he hissed. “You’re letting one of
them
near him?”

“She’s a healer,” Tanist said mildly. “She volunteered, she wants to help with the injured because it’s what she’s trained to do. Krennish and Gurnallon are watching her, don’t worry. She’s not Trannatta and she’s not like the other one. Mia said this one’s friendly.”

“Mia did?”

“Yes. She’s getting quite assertive, I hear, our mild little Mia.”

“You heard about that then?” Hurst said with a smile.

“You’re joking. No one’s talking about anything else. Where is she, by the way?”

“She’s gone to bed.”

“With Dethin? You’re very trusting, you know.” Tanist gave him a quizzical look.

“Dethin’s all right. I know she’s safe with him. It’s made everything much easier, knowing I don’t have to worry about her.”

“So long as he knows she belongs to you and not him.”

“I think she belongs to herself.”

“Semantics. You should be there with her, you know.”

“I will be. I just want to check the watch first. And I should talk to this healer…”

Tanist rolled his eyes. “You can’t do everything yourself. It’s been a very long day, and we’re all shattered, including you, so get some rest. Tomorrow you’ll have to clear the rest of the tower, and who knows what that might bring.”

“Nothing at all, I hope.”

Tanist gave a bark of laughter. “That would be good. But whatever’s up there, it has to be cleared out to give us a secure base we can work from. And the scholars are waiting for our signal to be shown from the top. Then
– everything will start happening.” His eyes gleamed. “But rest while you can. Gantor, take him away. Off you go. Leave an old man to sleep in peace.”

Mia was glad to shut the door and have some privacy at last. It was the first time she had escaped from the rest of the group since they set off down the tunnel. The room was small, and fitted out only with a desk and chair, a bookcase and a rather elegant rug of a vivid northern pattern. There was no sign that it had been occupied recently, although it was perfectly clean. There was no window, but one was not needed, for the softly glowing walls provided ample light.

Hurst and Dethin had dragged a mattress through from another room, and found blankets and pillows. It was a rather functional bedroom, but better than anything she had seen for some time. She was stiff and aching, she found, from her crash into the
keelarim
pit. She was glad to remove her leather tunic and dagger belt, although she felt rather proud of their effect on the rude healer woman. She was not exactly a sword-maiden but she was not a weakling, either, in need of constant protection by the men.

Once Dethin had got rid of his battle gear, he came and wrapped her in his arms, resting his cheek lightly on her head. For a while he stood, saying nothing, but then he lifted her chin with one hand so that he could kiss her forehead.

“Your hair is growing, warrior girl,” he smiled.

“It is. It’s beginning to annoy me.” She puffed her breath upwards to lift a straggling lock.

“Oh. So will you want to keep it short?” He sounded disappointed.

“Don’t you like it this way?”

He hesitated. “I remember when I first saw you, and Bulraney had one of his men unbind your hair. It fell right down your back. Such beautiful hair.” He sighed. “I just wanted to run my fingers through it.”

“And you never got the chance, because I cut it. Well, if you and Hurst get together and both petition for long hair, I daresay I’ll grow it again.”

An odd expression crossed his face. She knew him well enough now to recognise when he was upset.

“What is it?”

“It won’t be anything to do with me, will it? This – the three of us – it’s just temporary, I know that. I’m glad to be with you, but I know it can’t last. No—” He put a finger to her lips. “Don’t say anything. It’s all right. Let me enjoy this while I can.”

He bent to kiss her, properly this time, and there was no more talking.

~~~

Mia woke refreshed. She felt as full of energy as if she had slept for days, and even the bruises from her fall seemed bearable. She put it down to decent food and a comfortable mattress. Dethin was gone, but Hurst lay beside her, curled into a ball like a little boy. As soon as she moved he woke, and smiled.

“Good morning, warrior girl.”

“Oh, I’m going to get tired of that, I can see. Were you very late coming to bed? I didn’t hear you.”

“Tanist ordered me to my bed at a sensible hour, but you were away in the dreamclouds by then.”

“So how are you this morning? Do you want to cuddle?”

He rolled onto his back and winced. “Not sure I’m fit for much, but...”

There was a rap on the door, followed immediately by Dethin’s head.

“Hope I’m not interrupting, but Tanist’s asking for you, cousin.”

“Oh, of course. Maybe a hand up?”

Dethin hauled him upright, and Hurst began to pull his clothes together, but he suddenly stopped. “It should really be brother.”

“What?”

“Not cousin, brother. After all, we’re Mia’s co-husbands, aren’t we?”

“Is that what I am?” Dethin said, his stern face lighting up like the moon. “I like that idea… brother.”

Hurst grinned at him, and patted him genially on the shoulder before dashing away.

“I like that idea, too,” Mia said, smiling at Dethin and reaching for her scattered clothes.

She wasn’t sure why it should be so, because it was an odd sort of arrangement, but her two men made her happy. Hurst gave her the steady unquestioning affection she’d longed for ever since she’d married, and Dethin had been her stalwart support on the journey through the tunnel. She no longer feared him, but then he had no power over her now. She found herself quite content. The future was very uncertain, but however things turned out she hoped the three of them would stay together.

If we live that long, she thought, dressing hastily. “Is it very late? Have I overslept?”

“No, the sun’s not properly up yet, and there’s an hour or so before we plan to start exploring the tower. Happily, the cooks have been busy and there’s hot food ready.”

There was porridge, of course, the staple of Skirmishers living rough, for it was easy to cook with nothing more elaborate than hot water. But the Tower of Reception was stocked with far more than coarse grains. One of the warriors had been a baker in a former life, and had organised the kitchen workers into a frenzy of baking: the result was an array of deliciously tempting breads
– fluffy loaves, buttery twists, crispy rolls, nutty dark bread and sweet fruit buns. Mia worked her way steadily through a selection, spurning the hot food, while Dethin rushed about bringing her fresh butter, pots of honey, soft cheeses and a range of sticky fruit jams. Then, triumphantly, he produced the big bowl of fruit he had carefully collected for her.

“Mmm - that was wonderful!” she sighed, trying to lick the last vestiges of honey from around her mouth and not quite succeeding. “But this
—” She picked up an oddly shaped fruit. “I don’t know how they came by this. It’s a midsummer fruit, with a very short season. I’ve not had a fresh
hellibar
since I left the northern border.”

“They have the best of everything here,” Dethin said. “I suppose they grow them in glass gardens somewhere.”

Mia shook her head. “That just makes them fruit earlier, not later. This is completely the wrong time of year for it.”

Dethin shrugged. “I don’t recognise a lot of what’s in the store rooms, but there’s a huge amount of it. We won’t starve.”

“True enough. But it must be tricky to get it here, don’t you think? Up two sets of stairs and across the black and grey floor without getting clouted by the magical men with sticks. A lot of work for someone.”

“Not as much as you might think. There’s a lifting device somewhere behind the kitchens that no one spotted. All the food and such like comes in that way. And the infirmary patients. They bring a boat over at dead of night once a month, at darkmoon.”

“How did you find out all this?”

“Tanist has been talking to Keyramon. The helpful young healer,” he added, seeing her bemused face.

“Ah. That makes more sense than bringing things up from the tunnel. What else did she say?”

“That this is the only occupied floor of the tower, apart from six Silent Guards protecting the Chamber of the Gods at the top.”

“No Servants? That makes things easier.”

“You trust her,” Dethin said. It was a statement, not a question.

“I do. She seems friendly enough.”

“She could be a spy, sent to feed us misinformation, or else to find out what we’re up to.”

“We’ll find out soon enough if she’s telling the truth, and there’s no secret about our objective, is there? Besides – she’s sympathetic towards us. Not like the other one.”

“What made you jump in like that yesterday? It seemed unlike you.”

“It was the end of a very trying day and I was just impatient. Hurst was tiptoeing round her, and it was never going to work. She really despises us, you know? There was hostility just pouring out of her. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

He was gathering plates and bowls but he stopped abruptly. “You could feel it?”

“Yes, couldn’t you? It was so obvious.”

“
How
did you feel it?”

She had no idea what he meant. “I
– hmm, I’m not really sure. I just
felt
it. I knew.”

“Like you
felt
that the young healer is friendly?”

“Yes. Why? What are you saying?”

He was frowning, deep in thought. “Interesting. You see, that’s how it is with me – with the lions, and yesterday with those
keelarim
. I
feel
what they feel – anger, mostly. Hunger, sometimes, or desire or fear. Animals are fairly primitive. But people – that would be interesting.”

“You really think…? But…” She couldn’t quite believe it, yet it had been a very intense experience. One moment she was walking along the hallway, idly watching Hurst talking to someone, not paying much attention, and the next moment a wave of emotion washed over her, taking her breath away. So much hatred! And she knew at once where it came from. Was it possible she had some ability like Dethin’s? “But you said it was fuzzy to you, somehow? What I felt wasn’t fuzzy.”

“When I was at the coast with my uncle, what I felt was very clear, but inland, on the plains, it was always fuzzy. But not here. Yesterday, with the
keelarim
– that was not in the least fuzzy.” He tipped his head to one side as he watched her. “Have you ever felt anything like that before? Strong emotions washing over you for no obvious reason?”

Her hands flew to cover her mouth. “Yes! I have
– at the Ring. But I thought…”

All those times she’d picked up her sisters’ emotions at the Amontis House, or suddenly found herself in tears for no reason. And the time she encountered a Slave in the library, and had felt a rush of fear. But it had never happened at the Karnings, only at the Ring.

“So fuzzy on the plains, clear at the coast and here?” she said.

“Clear and very strong here. I think the tower amplifies it, somehow. Yesterday
– that was very strong, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before.”

“You shouted a warning to us, didn’t you? When we were down in the pit, I heard your voice.”

“Too late, though,” he said, smiling. “At first, I just got something vague, not sure what. Curiosity, maybe. Then, all of a sudden – anger, hatred. The desire to kill. Most unpleasant.”

“That would have been when Hurst and Gantor drew their swords. But you were able to soothe them. How do you do that? Could
I
do that?”

“I don’t know how I do it,” he said, making a rueful face. “The bad feelings seem
– jagged, somehow. So I try to smooth them down. It works, I just don’t know how. If that really is what you feel, then you should be able to do the same thing, with practice. Don’t worry about that, though, focus on reading what you can feel. Shut your eyes. No, just do it. Now – what am I feeling?”

She laughed, because it was as clear as reading a book. “Affection,” she said. “And
– something else.”

“Pride, I expect,” he said. “I’m very proud of you, you know. And a little bit in awe, too, at this moment. Now, keep your eyes closed. Lukast is sitting across to your right. What’s he feeling?”

“Curiosity,” she said at once. “And – oh!” Her eyes flew open, and she felt herself blushing. Lukast was bent over his porridge bowl, but his eyes were on her. “I can see there are going to be difficulties.”

Dethin laughed. “You should try being near a herd of rutting kishorn. Although I suppose a roomful of Skirmishers is not that different.”

Lukast watched them with a puzzled expression on his face.

When Mia emerged from the kitchen, she found Gantor waiting in the hallway.

“Come and have a look at this,” he said, waving her over.

He was standing in front of the closed doors to the anteroom, the final step of their journey from the tunnel to the tower interior.

“What am I looking for?” she said.

“A way to open this door. No one thought to leave it ajar after we came through yesterday, and now it’s locked itself. We’ve found two doors leading beyond the tower so far, all locked. And none of the windows open, either. So if we don’t want to be stuck here until someone arrives from outside, we need to find a way to open this.
That’s your speciality, isn’t it?”

Mia looked up and down, but there was no handle or lock visible. “I don’t see anything useful. Is there any writing nearby?” She looked all round but there was nothing written anywhere. She stood back, hands on hips, looking carefully at the doors, but could see nothing odd about them. The wood was pale golden brown, polished to a high shine, but the doors were completely blank. The crack where they opened was the faintest vertical line. There were no hinges, no latches or handles, no hole for a key.

It amused her a little that she was now regarded as an authority on locks and other puzzles. A very little knowledge of Kannick Old Script, which she freely admitted had not helped at all on the journey, had resulted in quite unwarranted respect for her talents. Nevertheless, she wanted to help, and an extra mind bent to the problem could hardly hurt. Gantor and Dethin watched her as she pondered the problem.

She moved back a little further and began scanning the wall all around. As she did so, something caught her eye, some minute irregularity in the surface of the wood, at about the position where a lock might be expected. She bent down to look more closely, but it was gone again.