The Second God (39 page)

Trimon reached for his wine and took a sip. “That is true,” he said slowly. “A plain soldier, yes. A skirmisher, we call it. That is what I am.” Another mouthful of wine. Then he set the beaker down and leaned forward again, his face intent. “When I was five, my father took me to the armoury. There was a line of weapons laid out – bow and sword and throwing knives and spear, a whole array.
‘Choose one,’
he said.
‘You have one moon to try them all, then you choose just one and you practise with it every hour you have. You work at it until you’re not just good – you’re the best. Nothing less will do.’
So I did. I chose the bow and I practised every free moment. I got up with the sun, and I shot arrows until my fingers bled, and then shot some more. By the Nine, I was good! Everyone said so. Such skill! No one had ever seen such a talent, everyone said so. I won all my junior tournaments, and started winning against grown men when I was barely more than a child. I was chosen to be Companion to a Karningholder because of it – which is a great honour. And then…”

His face clouded with anger, but it wasn’t directed at Arran. Trimon was looking down at his hands, raging at some inner memory. I held my breath, wanting to hear more, but not sure where this was leading.

Trimon drank deeply from his beaker, then slammed it down on the table. “And then they told me it wasn’t skill at all. I have control over the air, it seems, so my arrows flew far and true because of some weird magical power, and not any achievement of mine. Those hours and hours of training – a complete waste of time. All those tournament victories weren’t down to me at all. It was like I’d cheated. Can you imagine how I felt?”

“Yes! Gods, that is terrible. Everything you believed yourself to be – not true. You must have felt dreadful.” I wondered if Arran was thinking about his own ability, so recently discovered, which had helped his success with a sword. Not the same, but it must be in his mind. Did he feel that about himself, that everything about himself was no longer true?

Trimon’s face cleared. “You
do
understand! I became a god and acquired an army, but I lost something that I’d been proud of. I haven’t lifted a bow since that day. Naturally, I still train, because it’s a habit and I enjoy it, but only with sword or stave. My army became my focus. They don’t speak, but they do have a language of their own, using hand gestures, so I set myself to learn that with the same devotion I’d once given to bow practice. When we moved out onto the plains, I learned the dialects. And when we took Dellonar, I set myself to learn their language, too. It takes me hours every day, but I’m pretty good now, don’t you think? You understand everything I say, don’t you?”

“I do, yes. That is impressive.” Arran’s surprise mirrored my own. I hadn’t even realised Trimon was speaking Bennamorian. Still, at least he wouldn’t wonder how it was that Arran could understand a language but not speak it.

Trimon smiled. “You know, Arran of the minor nobility, I rather like you. You’re more interesting than the last prisoner we had here. He lasted no time in the black cell. Crying like a baby, he was. But you’ve emerged in good shape. You must come and eat meat with me some time.”

“Thank you, I should like that,” Arran said, for all the world as if he were receiving a regular invitation to dine.

“I can trust you not to try to escape, can’t I?”

All my alarm bells rang at once.
“Careful!”
I yelled to Arran, my heart suddenly thundering. It would be so easy to be caught out in a lie.

But Arran didn’t even pause to think about his answer. “That would be dishonourable.” The indignation in his voice was genuine.

“And you would never do anything dishonourable?”

“My honour is all I have left, now,” he said sadly.

Trimon grunted. “Good enough.” He collected his glass ball and left.

Even after he’d gone, my racing heart wouldn’t quiet down. But Arran was ecstatic.
“That went well, do you not think? I did not make any mistakes, did I? Are you pleased with me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, very pleased. You did brilliantly.”

“And look, he has left me the wine.”

I didn’t want to say anything to puncture his good humour, yet it was worrying, all the same. Trimon might seem affable, but he was still very dangerous. The next encounter might not go so well.

And I wondered who the previous prisoner was, who had cried like a baby. Not one of our original spies or the Gurshmonta wagoners, for they were all accounted for. But what had happened to Lathran? He had vanished without trace.

Yannassia was, if anything, more anxious than I was. “This will be a very testing period for Arran. He has done well on this occasion, but the next time… Do not let him relax, Drina. Remind him to be constantly on his guard.”

I thought he’d already had a very testing time, and that decent food, hot water and a proper bed had to be a less challenging option, despite the visits from the Dragon God, but I didn’t say so.

“I will, but he knows what he must do. Besides, it is not long now until things begin in Dellonar, and then… everything will be different.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “From now on, you should take whatever time you wish to be with him. You need not go to this Icthari entertainment this evening. Indeed, I am not much minded for it myself, for their music is not at all pleasant, and the dancing…! But I suppose I must attend, for the sake of politeness. But you may have a quiet evening.”

“Thank you. That would give me some extra time with the children.”

But my quiet evening evaporated almost as soon as I crossed the threshold of my apartment.

“Drina! Arran!”
Ly’s voice, full of excitement.
“I am almost there. I can see the camp.”

And there it was, a little circle of
clava,
several with smoke rising from the gap in the roof. There was a larger fire in the centre of the camp, and around the perimeter, small shelters, piles of wood, skins stretched on frames, a fenced area containing beasts of some kind. A rocky outcrop nearby was home to a couple of white eagles.

Diamond found an open space to land in, and Ly jumped off eagerly. Faces peered from open
clava
flaps, and then several people emerged, waiting for Ly to cross the open ground and reach the perimeter of the camp. I couldn’t help feeling the same suppressed excitement as Ly, but the rational part of my mind wondered at the lack of visible friendliness. No one ran forward to greet Ly, no one called out. They stood, arms folded, watching and waiting. It was unnerving.

Ly’s enthusiasm dropped a little, but he strode steadily towards the group, his eyes searching the faces. Which one was his father? I couldn’t wait to see this man who’d been such a big influence on him. Ly hadn’t seen his father since he was ten, but he had many fond memories of him.

After scanning the assembly, Ly settled on a small woman with the blue eyes of an elder. He made the traditional gesture, touching one hand to his forehead.

“I greet you, elder.”

“And I you,
byan shar
. Our home is yours. You are welcome here.” But her expression and the flat tone belied the words.

“Is my father here, Mek-tarra?”

“You remember my name, Little-Ly.” That produced a half smile. “He is only on a supper hunt. Come inside. Have some
besh
.”

She led him to a larger
clava
and ducked inside. Ly bent his head to follow. It was gloomy inside, for no lamps were lit. In one of the alcoves, two young women looked up from their spinning to stare at Ly. At their feet, their naked babies kicked on a rug, babbling softly. Ly made a friendly greeting, and the women nodded, then, with lowered heads, turned back to their spinning.

Mek-tarra gestured Ly to a rug beside a brazier, and poured
besh
for him. Several other elders silently took seats around the brazier. Ly greeted several of them by name, and they nodded and grunted back. One or two made the gesture of respect. The ones Ly didn’t know introduced themselves. Mek-tarra tried to work out how many years it was since Ly had been there. It all seemed quite normal for a returning son of the camp, and yet there was no warmth in their manner. They were not quite hostile towards Ly, but the atmosphere was constrained.

“And how is your… wife?” Mek said.

There was a wave of affection in Ly’s mind which was very pleasing. “She is well. We are blood-bonded now.”

The elders murmured approvingly, and nodded. One or two smiled, but Mek said coldly, “And she doesn’t mind you coming here without her?”

Ly laughed. “She doesn’t control me, not any more. I know you don’t approve of her, but I owe her my life. She kept me sane through the difficult age of learning and regeneration. You heard about the second
byan shar
? He is finding it difficult, too. But now that I have reached the age of strength, my wife can no longer take all my power from me and we are true equals. I have a brother of the heart, too – we are a
clavaia’an byanna’vyor
.”

That interested them, and they plied Ly with questions, drinking
besh
and passing round sweet nuts with a strange texture that needed a lot of chewing. They were fascinated by the idea of Arran’s protective shell.

“I have no memory of such a thing,” one of the elders said, and the others shook their heads too. “What kind of a connection might it be?”

“To the body’s own skin, perhaps,” one suggested.

“But the clothes are included,” another argued.

“The outer surface, then,” said someone else. “Boundaries. Perimeters.”

Ly wisely let the discussion run, as the atmosphere lightened and became relaxed. Most of them must have been unbonded, for I couldn’t see into their minds, but two were bonded to the eagles on the rock, and one woman had a pine marten on her knee. I was relieved to see their initial wariness melt into something approaching friendliness.

A commotion outside was followed almost at once by a middle-aged man barrelling into the
clava
, his face alight with excitement. “Ly? Ancestors, it
is
you! How good to see you!”

Ly sprang to his feet, his mind suffused with delight, to be immediately wrapped in a bear hug. I knew at once that this was Ly’s father, and I knew his name, too – Dea-famaar. Behind him, a woman of similar age, Loa-shee, that I felt was a lover. She looked less pleased to see Ly, but I had to guess that from her face, for she and Ly’s father had no bonded beasts. And behind them came Ly’s brother, Dain-brythe, who was downright angry. Outside, his wolf was prowling about and whining.

They talked non-stop for an hour at least, father and son. The affection between them was wonderful to see, and I was happy for Ly to have this family reunion in the midst of all our troubles. By then, the supper was ready and they moved outside to sit around the cooking fire and eat and drink
garsh
, a stronger brew. The food was the same type that Ly had so often made – no fish, but small rodents, stuffed and roasted, or tiny birds wrapped in aromatic leaves, with a mixture of herbs and berries and fried roots.

My mouth was watering, and I could taste every mouthful. I pulled my awareness back to my apartment, to find my bodyguard and steward watching me with concern. On a table at my elbow was an array of tempting dishes, and wine.

“Thank you! Just what I needed.”

“Is there anything else I can get you, Most Powerful?” the steward said, but I shook my head, my mouth already too full to speak.

“Arran? Have you been watching this?”

“Yes,”
he said glumly.
“It is making me very hungry.”

“Haven’t they fed you yet?”

“No, but it will not be long. The night watch has just started so it will be very soon now.”

“How do you know about the night watch?”

“There are bells to mark the hours, and at the final bell the afternoon watch and night watch march around the parade ground to switch over. I can see it from my window.”
A pause.
“They are very disciplined, the ones in armour. The prison guards, not as much.”

“So there is no one watching at the switchover?”

“Oh. You are right, I believe. They all come down from the roof to march around. They do that for quite a while – about half an hour. Is that useful information?”

“It might be. Knowing when they’re not watching – it might be useful.”

“Drina, Ly is asking about the god-powers.”

I switched my attention reluctantly away from my own meal and back to Ly.

“—lightning? Or mist? There have been
byan shar
in the past who were able to use them, and I really need that power now.”

“Why?” That was his brother, Dain-brythe, his huge wolf beside him. “This war is far to the east and south, you said. Why does that concern us?”

“Because when the south and east have fallen, Bennamore is next and then the Clanlands. These people will keep moving forward until they have swallowed us all.”

“So you say.”

“Yes, so I say. I’ve seen the golden army, and I’ve seen their Wind God and the storms he can create. No army can stand against him. I could summon every war-beast in the Clanlands, and it wouldn’t be enough. Not even combined with the full might of Bennamore and the Port Holdings would it be enough. The only answer to a god is another god, and that’s the power I now seek. It is within me, but I don’t know how to summon it. You may aid me or not, my brother, as you choose, but don’t hinder me and don’t question my decisions.”

I held my breath. Ly could be gloriously imperious, and in Bennamore he would be respected for that, and treated with due deference. But here in the wilderness, amongst his own family, I had no idea how it would be received.

Dain was on his feet, fists clenched. “I will
never
aid you!” he spat. “You are an abomination!” His wolf growled, baring fearsome teeth.

Ly casually raised a hand and the wolf lay down with a whimper. “I am
byan shar
. You are bound to obey me willingly, by all the gods and the ancestors, or I will compel you.”

“Just you dare try it!”

Ly got slowly to his feet so that they stood eye to eye. I wondered why no one intervened. The others sat in silence, heads down as if it was nothing to do with them. But perhaps this was the Clan way, to allow an argument to resolve itself as it may, and not fester.

It was Dain who looked away first and lowered his voice, although his anger still burned. “As
byan shar
, you may compel me. As my brother, I’d hope you wouldn’t do that.”

“I’d hope it wouldn’t be necessary. I’d hope we could be friends, as we once were. What have I ever done to offend you?”

Dain opened his mouth to speak, but their father looked up at them. “Won’t you sit, you two? Let’s not spoil Ly’s time here with quarrelling. He asks for the elders’ help, so let’s talk about that. Mek, do you have any memories?”

Ly sat down, but Dain walked off into the darkness, his wolf padding beside him.

They talked for hours, but although the elders had memories of
byan shar
who had used the power of lightning or mist, none of them knew how they’d learned to use it. We were no further forward, and Ly’s journey had been a waste of time.

~~~~~

“You should go to Dellonar,” Yannassia said the next morning. “That is where everything will happen, and you should be there.”

“I can’t be any help to the armies,” I said. “My role is to take magic from the Dragon God’s windstorms, and we know he’s at Greenstone Ford.”

“Yes, it has been invaluable having Arran there. Even though we do not learn a great deal from his meetings with this Trimon, we do at least know exactly where he is. So long as he stays there until the campaign begins, and does not complicate matters at Dellonar. It will be tricky enough as it is, for this golden army is ferociously disciplined. There will not be much for you to do, apart from watch the action when it occurs, so you will still have plenty of time to spend with Arran. But I should like you to be there... in case it goes wrong. You will be able to bring me a full report.” Her voice wavered slightly.

“Of course, if you wish it. I shall have to take Sho-heest with me, otherwise his magic will build up.”

“Fine. It will be good for him to see what we are up against, and the two of you can help with the communication, too. These lion riders are useful for messages, but everything has to be done through an interpreter.”

“What about his wife? She’s on her way from Lakeside.”

“She can stay with the mother once she arrives. They will come to no harm, and we will keep them safely locked up.”

But Jes arrived that afternoon, accompanied by Krant and Sallorna, all of them flying eagles.

“Krant has found a way to make an eagle carry a passenger, even without any bonding or magic,” Sallorna told me gleefully. “So now I can fly too! And Jes wanted to try it, so she could get back to Sho as soon as possible. See – isn’t it touching how happy they are?”

Touching? Perhaps I was cynical, but as I watched them hug with little cries of joy, I couldn’t help wondering how much of it was for show. I could see the pleasure in Sho’s mind, but Jes was unreadable to me, and I’d been fooled by her before.

Sallorna sighed at my silence. “She’s changed, you know. She deeply regrets what she did now, and she’s very thankful there was no lasting damage to anyone else.”

As if to prove it, Jes came and knelt at my feet, full of apologies and sorrow. So subdued, so humble, so meek – and yet I still distrusted her. Her face, arms and hands bore the fiery red scars of the mages’ flames, and she would never be rid of them, but a few scars couldn’t change the essence of a person. She’d attached herself to Sho for her own reasons, and tried to kill me so that I couldn’t interfere with his power. She knew now that I couldn’t be harmed, but that didn’t mean she’d given up on her plans. Whatever they were.