Impossible Things (17 page)

Citizen Garados Mallus wasn’t quite as tall as his brother had been, and his dark hair lacked the grey that had come too early to Rellan. But he had the same features, warm and smiling, and the pale blue eyes that were so startling in skin the colour of clear honey. His wife, Nima, was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and elegant.

Their daughter, Poppia, was an eerie mirror of Ishtaer, if she’d been that nice girl who’d grown up with her family and done normal things and never even heard of the New Lands. She was sweetly rounded, her eyes bright with youth and hope, bounding around her new cousin like an excited puppy. They were near each other in age, but in Ishtaer’s eyes he saw whole lives lived and used and wasted.

He found her in the dining hall, on a bench pushed back against the wall. Brutus slept at her feet and Eirenn snored with his head on the table. Ishtaer had a flask of wine, which was nearly empty.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Kael asked, sitting down without waiting for a reply.

‘Help yourself,’ Ishtaer gestured to the wine, and he poured some out. It wasn’t exactly quality stuff, but he drank it anyway.

‘Court celebrations don’t appeal to you?’

Ishtaer wrinkled her nose. ‘Too many people. Will they all be at the feast tomorrow?’

‘Sure. And more. All of the Citizenry, every Chosen, dignitaries from every corner of the Empire. It’s a state occasion.’

She looked pained. ‘I don’t suppose anyone will believe I’m ill?’

Kael smiled. ‘I don’t suppose they will.’

She glanced at Eirenn. ‘Why do they celebrate me, and not him? And don’t say it’s because I’ve defied the odds, or whatever. It’s not exactly been easy for him.’

‘No, but it’s not been as hard as it has for you. You’ve come from worse and done more. Ish, the storybooks are full of young Tyros doing feats of derring-do. But you … you’re something special.’

Ishtaer picked up the flask, held her cup steady, and poured. She didn’t spill a drop.

‘How do you do that? How do you do all of it?’

She shrugged. ‘I concentrate. I listen. I remember details very clearly.’

‘Every detail? Of everything?’

Her hand gripped the horn cup so tightly it creaked. ‘Some I try to forget.’

In the dull light, there was no hint of the wretched slave. If he squinted hard, he could make out the faint scarring on her Seer’s mark. She’d evidently worked on healing that, but not the S brand on her arm.

He reached out and traced it, and Ishtaer jumped a little. ‘Why haven’t you faded this? I know you could if you tried.’

‘Like you said. Some scars are useful as a reminder.’

‘Of what? I notice you gave your family a bit of a potted history this evening.’

‘You’ve already told the world I was a slave, so there doesn’t seem much point in denying it, does there?’

There, that right there, that looked like anger. Defiance. Kael smiled. He rather liked people who defied him.

‘Your uncle told me,’ he said casually, pouring out more wine, ‘that you would be made very welcome in Draxos, as a family Healer.’

Her face gave away nothing. ‘He said the same to me.’

‘Does that sound like something you want to do?’

She sipped her wine. Her foot absently rubbed Brutus’s back. ‘I don’t know.’

‘It’d be a damn sight more pleasant than being my Healer. Draxos is warm most of the year, people are friendly, countryside is – well, I don’t suppose it matters to you what the countryside is like, but it’s gorgeous anyway.’ Casually, he added, ‘The rebellion was an isolated incident. More or less. Most of the stories are exaggerated.’

‘By you?’

‘By me. I was there. I saw the blood and misery and fire and anger. But I’m sure it’s all in the past now.’

‘If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working. I know all about the rebellion. It really did end years ago. The country is more or less stable.’

‘If poor.’

‘Yes. Maybe I could do something about that. A clinic for the poor.’

‘Maybe.’ Dishing out free treatment to those who couldn’t afford it. The sick children and exhausted widows, all those unsavoury hangovers of a rebellion so bloody the Empire had sent Kael in to sort it out. ‘Or just spend your days looking after your family and their rich friends.’

‘I could think of worse ways to spend my life.’

And she deserved it; the gods alone knew how she deserved it. A comfortable house, servants, good food and a family who loved her.

‘You might even marry. A son of the Citizenry, perhaps, or a young merchant.’

‘I will never marry.’

She said it simply. Not as a vow, not in self-pity. As a simple statement of fact.

‘Sure, you say that, but surely someday you’ll meet someone who gets your heart beating fast.’

‘I like the way it beats now.’

Kael smiled. ‘You’re a very attractive girl, Ishtaer. And you could be very wealthy indeed. Garados wants to settle some money on you, and a Thrice-Marked, well, you could ask whatever fees you wanted and people would pay them. You’ll be fighting men off.’

Her lips thinned, and Kael cursed himself for his choice of words.

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean … too much wine. You know what I meant.’

‘That a young, attractive, well-connected Child of Two Marks is an irresistible prospect as a bride, even if she is damaged goods.’

‘Ish—’

‘My gods, Kael, I’m Thrice-Marked. If I married a Twice-Marked, I would bear Children of Five Marks. What a coup that would be.’

Her voice was flat. Kael wondered how much wine she’d had.

‘Don’t you want children?’ he asked gently.

‘No. I … I don’t know.’ She sat up straight. ‘Do you know how many babies I’ve delivered? Can you imagine how many are conceived in a place like Samara’s?’

Kael winced. ‘Er, quite a few,’ he said.

‘I diagnosed somewhere around a hundred pregnancies. Around half of them were miscarriages. About a quarter were stillborn. I delivered twenty-three living babies in five years. Twelve of them died before they were a month old. Eight before six months. Of the remaining three, only one survived his fifth birthday. He died a month later. Samara invited him to her chamber to play with her dogs. They mauled him to death. The rest starved or froze. At least two were murdered by their own mothers so they wouldn’t have to starve or freeze.’

Kael could only stare in horror. If Durran and Garik had been here he’d have held onto them so tight he didn’t think he’d ever let go.

‘The first ever potion I made was to abort a foetus. The second to prevent conception. I was taught by an eastern woman on the slave ship. She made me take both of them. Over the next five years I kept a constant supply of them, and I offered them to every woman in the compound. I was always amazed how many chose not to take them. As if they thought they’d be any different, that they’d survive and so would their baby, that Samara would be merciful. But then, she’d fooled me into thinking she was merciful years before. One little flash of kindness, and you’d beg like a dog for more, even as she beat you, and starved you, and gave you to her men for their entertainment. That any woman could want a child conceived in circumstances like that has always been beyond me, even when Samara turned me into so much of her creature that I could barely think for myself.’

Her voice was calm. Her face was impassive. If it wasn’t for the trickle of wine from her cracked cup Kael might have thought she was simply relaying a story she’d read somewhere.

He took the cup from her, poured its contents into his own, and pushed it into her hand. She held it a moment, and said, ‘Forgive me for not wanting to bring a child into that world.’

He couldn’t speak for a moment. Picked up the flask and drank directly from it.

‘You’re not in that world any more,’ he said hoarsely.

‘Part of me always will be.’ She cleared her throat. ‘So, no, I don’t think I will marry and have children.’

Kael couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

Out from the darkness of sleep a huge red cat loomed.

It reared huge and fearsome, all fangs and claws, a crowned cat of blood red, but she wasn’t afraid. She lay on a soft bed, a man sleeping beside her. A handsome man, a strong man. A man who opened his eyes and smiled at her.

She smiled back, and then he reached for his sword and plunged it into her belly.

Ishtaer once again woke up screaming.

The next day, she once more put on the silk dress and corset armour, allowed Malika to mess with her hair and to put cosmetics on her face, and paraded through the streets with Kael, Eirenn and Verak to the Imperial Tower. They were led to a different room – she had no idea how many the Tower had, but if it was meant to reach up to the heavens then she expected they probably never had to use the same room twice – where they were presented and applauded and given places of honour at the Emperor’s table. Speeches were made, most of them very long and very boring. Ishtaer clapped until her palms felt bruised. Course after course of complicated food was served, drawing more astonished comments from Eirenn with every new concoction.

After what felt like days, they were released.

‘Dear fecking gods, if that’s what they do to people they’re proud of, I should hate to see what they do to traitors!’ Eirenn gasped as soon as they’d left the Tower.

‘Do us a favour, Kael. Don’t do anything heroic for a while, would you?’ Verak said.

‘Hey, it ain’t my fault. Most I usually get is a medal.’

They all had medals now, hanging from silk ribbons around their necks, and new victory names – even, to his surprise, Eirenn. It wasn’t unprecedented for a Tyro to be given such an honour, although it was extremely unusual.

‘I get any more names added to this one, I’ll have to start using initials,’ Kael said.

‘Not a bad idea. LKVeKMVSDP,’ Verak rattled off. ‘We could call you Lekvekem Vusdup.’

‘It has a ring to it,’ Eirenn said, laughing.

‘You okay, Ishtaer?’ Kael said. He was riding beside her. He always rode beside her.

‘Just a little …’

‘Overwhelmed? Exhausted? Bored to tears?’

‘Yes,’ she said, smiling.

‘Plans for later?’ he asked casually. Too casually. After her outburst last night she’d stumbled off to bed, cursing herself for giving too much away. Again. If she’d been able to see she wouldn’t have been able to look at him today.

‘I’m meeting my family for dinner. That is, I don’t think I need to eat for the rest of the week, but I’m meeting them anyway.’

Her uncle, as a member of the Citizenry, had been invited to the feast and given a much more prestigious position than a merchant from Draxos would usually get. He’d told Ishtaer over and over how very proud of her he was, and so had her aunt, and they’d both impressed upon her how much Poppia was looking forward to seeing her that evening.

‘She didn’t get a chance to tell you about her fiancé last night,’ Aunt Nima said, and added, laughing, ‘although once she starts she can be hard to stop.’

You might marry, you know
.

‘They seem very pleasant,’ Verak said now, as they rode through the warm night down the Processional Way.

‘Yes. They’ve been very kind.’

‘Kael tells me you’re thinking of moving to Draxos with them.’

Ahead of her, Eirenn stumbled a bit.

‘No, I mean yes, but, it’s … they … I’m thinking about it.’
My own house, with servants, and a chef to cook whatever I want, and rich people who will pay me a fortune to treat their gout …

… while Kael bounds around all over the Empire, fighting river savages and throwing pots of devil’s fire …

She gave herself a mental shake. Safety was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Not just safety from people trying to hurt her, but from poverty, from hunger, from desperate deeds.

Servants who would do whatever I wanted.
How long might it be until she started wanting what Samara wanted?

That night, as Kael was changing to go out, in the same double room he’d been given when he first arrived with Ishtaer, someone knocked at his door.

Shirtless, he opened it, and stood gaping for a few moments at Ishtaer. She wore a dark blue gown and had Brutus sitting at her side. He thumped his tail at Kael by way of greeting.

‘Have I disturbed you?’ she asked politely.

‘No, I was just … just …’ Just getting changed to go out and pick up a girl, but he couldn’t say that to her.

He didn’t know why.

‘I can come back later. I didn’t know when you were leaving the city.’

‘Day after tomorrow. Tide turns around midday.’ He tried to read her expression but it was as inscrutable as ever. ‘We can talk now, if you wanted. I’m in no hurry.’

She nodded. ‘Good. I … I wanted to know if your offer was still open. To come with you. To Krulland.’

His heart leapt. ‘It is.’

She stood for a moment, as if considering what to say next.

‘You don’t want to go to Draxos?’

Ishtaer took a breath and let it out. ‘I … would like to get to know my family better,’ she said. ‘But moving hundreds of miles to a foreign country when I barely know them …’

‘You’d be moving hundreds of miles to a foreign country with me,’ Kael said.

‘Will you talk about your fiancé all evening and then list all his eligible friends who’d just love to marry a Chosen girl?’

He winced. ‘Poppia?’

‘I know she’s just excited, and she’s a really lovely girl, but …’

He waited.

‘But all her friends are married, and all my aunt and uncle’s friends’ daughters are married, and I’m not sure I can face that conversation round the dinner table every night.’

Kael laughed. He couldn’t help it. ‘If I promise that nobody in Krulland will ever ask you when you’re getting married, will you come with me?’

‘Nobody? In the whole country?’

He propped himself in the doorway, folding his arms and smiling. ‘I’m a very influential man.’

‘I’ll want to bring Brutus.’

‘Naturally.’

‘And Eirenn.’

‘What’s one pet without another?’

‘That’s not funny. Without him, you’d still be getting chewed on by crocogators.’

‘All right, I take your point. Besides, wasn’t that long ago Verak said I could train him better than Sir Scipius. Care to make a bet with me that I can get him to graduate as a Militis?’

There was a pause, then Ishtaer shook her head. ‘I don’t have anything to bet,’ she said softly.

With any other girl he’d have made a saucy comment. With Ishtaer, he said, ‘I’ll pay you what I paid Karnos.’

‘No.’

His eyebrows went up. ‘No?’

‘Karnos was just a Healer. A good one, but still just a Healer.’ She took another deep breath. Kael tried not to watch the movement of her chest. ‘I’m a Seer. And I might not be much of a Warrior, but I can defend myself. I’m much stronger and faster than someone without Militis powers. I’ve spent two days being feted by the Empire.’ Her fingers flexed as if she was about to make a fist. ‘I’m worth something.’

He regarded her, standing there in his doorway, probably the only woman he’d met who didn’t react to him with his shirt off. He had no idea how the Horde would react to a female Healer. Sure, they’d been perfectly respectful to her in Palavio and on the ship, but at home? Every day? And everyone else at Skjultfjell? Would Mags ever accept her, Mags who thought girls who didn’t stand up for themselves got what they deserved?

It was a pretty damn big risk he was taking.

She’s worth something
. Was she worth this?

‘Twice his pay then,’ he said, and when she opened her mouth, added, ‘and don’t you ask for three times that, you’re only a half-trained Warrior and unless you can predict the future on demand you’re getting paid over the odds to be a Seer.’

She paused. ‘Room and board?’

‘You eat what we eat. Plenty of it, especially in summer, and especially if you like fish. Leaner in the winter. But you won’t starve. I promise that. Your own room. With a key. You work hard, you train with me and the lads, and you heal not just the Horde but everyone else in Skjultfjell. Women, children, fishermen, the lads who look after the horses. Eirenn works too. No freeloading.’

Her eyes narrowed in concentration. Eventually she said, ‘Skjultfjell?’

‘My stronghold. There’s a village too.’

A glimmer of a smile touched her lips. ‘They call it Skullfell here.’

Kael grinned. ‘I know.’

She licked her lips. Then she put out her hand. ‘Deal.’

Kael shook it, held it, and said, ‘Just so you know, I’d have given you three times Karnos’s pay.’

She smiled. ‘Just so you know, I’d have taken one and a half.’

‘Just so long as there are no more fecking processions,’ was Eirenn’s response to Ishtaer’s news.

‘You don’t have to come,’ she said, suddenly anxious she was pushing him into something he didn’t want to do.

‘Are you kidding? Join Krull the Warlord’s Horde? Ishtaer, I can’t believe you’re giving me this opportunity.’ He gave her a brief hug, startling them both, then ran off to pack.

Ishtaer’s own preparations didn’t take long. She had few clothes and not many other possessions. It took a while to get up the courage to tell Madam Julia she was leaving, but the older woman just said, ‘I did without you before, I’ll do without you again.’

Well, that’s put me in my place, Ishtaer thought.

Julia’s voice softened. ‘I will miss you, though.’

And that was it. Ishtaer counted the months since she’d arrived in Ilanium as she made her way back to her room and passed Marcus Glorius on the way.

‘My lady,’ he said mockingly, and she heard his feet scrape in what sounded like an exaggerated bow.

She inclined her head, the way Sir Flavius had taught her. ‘Tyro,’ she said, and swept past.

Eight months ago, she wouldn’t have done that.

The seas were calm, the wind brisk, and a week later they were rounding the headland, its contours so familiar to Kael he could see them with his eyes closed. His scouts would already have seen the ship approaching, and by the time they’d negotiated the narrow harbour there would be donkeys and carts waiting on the shore and men rowing out in boats to unload the ship.

He stood beside Eirenn and Ishtaer at the prow, and pointed to the rock formation on top of the headland. ‘See that, Eirenn? I always tell the boys, if they’ve not left the yard by the time we’ve rounded Big Cat Rock, they’ll be late meeting the ship.’

‘Big Cat Rock?’ said Ishtaer.

‘Looks like a lion or something, lying down and looking out to sea.’ Kael paused and added, ‘My sons named it that.’

Both of them went very still. No one on the deck paid them the blindest bit of notice. They were all his men, all of them sworn not to Krull the Warlord, but to Kaelnar Vapensigsson. The sailors he’d taken on in Ilanium had disembarked two days ago. There was no one on this ship who didn’t live in Skjultfjell. No one he didn’t trust.

‘Durran is nearly seven. Garik is five. They’re fine boys, but no one outside Skjultfjell knows they exist. A man like me makes plenty of enemies. Children are vulnerable. I can’t risk … Imagine if those evil bastards in Palavio knew I had children?’

‘They’re not in the Book of Names,’ Eirenn said. ‘I mean, there’s no one who doesn’t know your entry into the Book.’

‘No.’

‘And your wife?’ Ishtaer asked. Her face was still. He’d believe she was staring out at the rocks if he didn’t know better. ‘You never entered her name, either.’

‘No. I don’t have a wife. Never did. It’s complicated.’

‘Not that complicated,’ Eirenn said, his cheeks pink. ‘We all know how the biology of it works. They must have had a mother.’

Kael ran his hands through his hair. ‘Ilse died just after Garik was born. We were away fighting in the Saranos. As for Durran, his mother is alive and well and rules my household with an iron fist in a velvet glove. Her name is Margit. Mags to everyone. Her husband was my best friend. He died before Durran was born. A rockfall. Mags and I raised both boys together.’

‘So they’re not true brothers?’

‘Not by blood. But they both call me Papa and think of Mags as their mother. That’s brother enough for me.’

He waited. Eirenn eyed him with a look that mixed distrust with disbelief. ‘You want us to keep this secret?’

‘Everyone has secrets, Eirenn,’ Ishtaer said. To Kael, she said, ‘I understand. I’ll tell no one.’

‘And nor will I,’ Eirenn sighed. ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’

‘Good, ’cos that’s what’ll happen if you breathe a word to anyone.’ He glanced at the cliff path, where the boys were scrambling down towards the harbour. Improbably, they seemed to have grown since he left. Garik appeared to be wearing Durran’s clothes, although whether that was because Durran had grown out of them or just because it was what they were doing these days, he had no idea.

I spend too much time away.

But hanging around at home wasn’t going to bring in the gold. And without gold Krulland had very little to trade with when crops failed or animals died or new ships were needed. And without people being constantly reminded that this tiny country was protected by Krull the Warlord, there was no telling what might happen to it.

Palavio, that’s what might happen
.

Kael shuddered and made himself focus on the boys as they exploded into the harbour, running along, leaping over lobsterpots and fishing nets and moorings. The men on the platt, preparing boats to row out to the
Grey Ghost
, shouted after them, but Kael knew as well as anyone else that if either of the boys fell, any of the men there would leap after him without a thought.

‘Papa, Papa!’ Durran yelled, jumping up and down as he reached the end of the harbour wall. The
Ghost
couldn’t moor in the shallow water of the harbour, so he’d have to wait for a boat to be lowered before he could row across to them. Or …

‘Papa, can you see us?’ Garik shouted.

Oh, the hell with it.

He stripped off his leather jerkin, toed off his boots, handed his sword to Eirenn. ‘Look after these,’ he said, and dived over the side of the ship.