Impossible Things (9 page)

‘What was that, goat boy?’ said a rather cold voice, and Ishtaer felt her smile slip away.

‘I said, “Oh look, there’s Marcus coming towards us,”’ Eirenn said, his voice losing a little of its warmth.

‘No, you didn’t.’

‘Ah, so it’s psychic you are, then, is it? Only I notice, unlike my friend here, you don’t have the mark of a Seer.’

‘Your friend,’ sneered Marcus. ‘I wouldn’t believe you had one, but I hear on the grapevine there’s a blind slave around the place. Hard to believe there’d be anyone more pathetic than you here, Fillian.’

‘I know, it’s what I told myself right up until I arrived,’ Eirenn said, and there was a pause while Marcus digested this. Hopefully he was too stupid to understand it.

‘What did you say?’ Marcus demanded.

Oh, hell.
Ishtaer braced herself.

‘I said there are much more pathetic creatures around here, Marcus. Amazing, isn’t it? And sad, so sad, that even those Chosen by the gods to receive such an amazing gift still feel the need to piss it away bullying those less fortunate than themselves—’

‘Even the gods make mistakes,’ Marcus growled.

‘—and then insult the gods themselves by calling them fallible—’

‘If my father heard of this,’ Marcus threatened.

‘—before invoking the names of their illustrious but unfortunately burdened fathers in order to justify their bullying behaviour.’ Eirenn sighed dolefully.

Marcus’s voice got closer. ‘Don’t think you can get away with insulting me like that—’

‘Why, Marcus!’ Eirenn feigned surprise. ‘Whoever said I was talking about you?’

Marcus drew in a breath to retort to that, but Ishtaer never got to hear what he had to say. While she’d been listening to the exchange the room had got subtly quieter, but now the sound level dropped to a whisper.

The same whisper she’d heard that morning.

‘My Lord Krull,’ said Marcus, his voice a whole lot more respectful than it had been five seconds ago.

‘Glorius,’ Kael said, sounding bored. ‘I see you’ve met my protégée.’

The whisper abruptly turned to deafening silence.

‘Your—’ Marcus swallowed audibly. ‘The goat boy is your protégée?’

‘Ah, if only I could be so fortunate,’ Eirenn said. ‘I believe his lordship is talking about my new friend Ishtaer here.’

The silence strained.

‘Tyro Ishtaer ex Saraneus Medicus Militis Aspicio prior Inservio,’ Kael corrected. ‘Yes. I’ve agreed to sponsor her.’

For a long moment no one said anything. Ishtaer couldn’t even hear anyone breathing. Then Eirenn cleared his throat and said, ‘Very generous of you, my lord. I don’t recall as you’ve ever sponsored a Tyro before.’

‘No, I haven’t,’ Kael said softly.

‘And we’ve never had a slave here before,’ said Marcus, his voice dripping disdain. ‘My lord, are you sure she’s not faking it?’

‘Who would fake slavery?’ Eirenn said.

‘I could cut you open here and now, Glorius, and let her heal you, if you want proof,’ Kael said.

A short silence while everyone thought about this, then Marcus said, ‘The Militis mark, my lord. It can’t be real.’

‘Are you calling Lord Krull a liar, Marcus?’ Eirenn said.

‘No … but … but she’s a woman.’

‘Well observed. I see your expensive education wasn’t wasted.’

‘I’m not training with a woman!’

‘Then don’t train,’ Kael said crisply. ‘The gods have chosen Ishtaer as a Warrior, and she shall be trained as one. And afforded the respect due to my protégée. I expect regular reports on her progress,’ he added menacingly.

‘I’ll try not to let you down,’ Ishtaer whispered.

‘I’m sure you won’t. You,’ he added. ‘Can you read and write?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ Eirenn said.

‘Good. Write to me. I want to know how she’s doing.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Ish—for gods’ sakes, don’t you people have conversations of your own to listen to?’ Kael snapped, and abruptly, people found things to talk about. ‘Ishtaer, come with me.’

He took her hand and led her from the dining hall, trailing speculation behind him like a cloak. Outside, he took her around a corner, and Ishtaer heard another fountain splashing.

‘Were those kids bothering you?’

She shook her head automatically.

‘If Marcus Glorius is anything like his father he’ll be a little shit, so keep your eye on him. Or – you know. Watch out for him. I mean—’

‘I know what you mean,’ she said quietly.

‘I’ve just told the whole dining hall that you’re mine, so no doubt by breakfast the whole city will know. It’ll have reached the edge of the Empire by suppertime. That boy – Eirenn? You’ve made friends fast.’

‘He was showing me around. He seems nice.’

‘Hmm. Reserve judgement. Just because he’s like you – I mean, he’s an outsider too,’ he covered fast, ‘doesn’t mean he’s automatically on your side. And listen, when I asked him to report to me I don’t want you to think I’m spying on you. I just want to know how you’re doing, all right?’

She nodded.

‘I have to leave soon. On the tide, if you don’t need me here. Winter storms will be setting in around Krulland, and every day I delay makes it more likely we’ll be caught in one. Could’ve done without that delay at Samara’s place.’

Ishtaer flinched.

‘Not that – look, I’m glad we were there and found you. And brought you here. She can’t hurt you any more, you know that? You’re safe here.’

Ishtaer nodded jerkily. A man like Krull the Warlord would never understand what safety meant. He’d never been threatened or helpless in his life.

He notched a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. ‘Do you want me to stay?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m fine here. I’ll be fine.’
In this strange place full of people who think I’m a freak and have history and customs I can never hope to understand
. ‘I’ve been helping in the sick bay. I can do useful things here.’

‘Good. That’s good. And don’t let twatfaces like Marcus Glorius bring you down. The gods chose you to be a Warrior, same as him.’

‘Not quite the same,’ she said.

‘No, not quite. He’s never had to fight for anything.’

She frowned at that, but he dropped his hand and stepped back. ‘I’ve set up an account for you with the bursar, for clothes and books – or whatever – and weapons and things. When you buy something, tell the shop to charge it to my account here, all right? I can’t see anyone refusing. If they do, get your friend to write it down and I’ll give ’em what-for next time I’m in town. The bursar will give you petty cash too, if you want it. Spend what you like, I’ve way more gold than any man needs. Buy nice clothes, go for ices. There used to be a place on Seventh Street that sold fantastic ices when I was a student here.’

‘You were a student here?’ Ishtaer said, surprised. She couldn’t imagine him needing to learn anything from anyone.

‘All Chosen are students here at some point. We all have to learn.’ He was silent a moment, then said, ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’

Ishtaer nodded.

‘I’ll be back in the spring. If you need anything, get your friend to write to me. Or hire a Viator if it’s urgent.’

Ishtaer wasn’t sure what a Viator was, but she nodded anyway.

‘Remember the gods chose you for this. They wouldn’t give you more than you could handle.’

‘But they gave me so much,’ she whispered.

‘You’re strong.’ When her eyebrows shot up, Kael laughed. ‘The girl who kneed an infamous warlord in the nuts is strong, believe me. You just need to remember that. You’re more powerful than you know, Ishtaer. And don’t be ashamed of your background. It’s better to come from nothing than to do nothing.’

Says a man who came from something
, Ishtaer thought, but kept that to herself.

‘And remember it’s all a show,’ he said. ‘The popular kids, the rich kids, the scholarship kids … they’re all pretending. Your friend Eirenn in there, he knows it.’ He put a finger under her chin. ‘Chin up. Shoulders back. Eyes right ahead. Behave like a lady, Ishtaer, and no one will ever think you’re anything else.’

He took her by the shoulders and brushed a kiss over her forehead, as if she were a child. Ishtaer was too astonished by that to know how to react.

‘Take care, then,’ he said, and walked away. Ishtaer touched her fingertips to her forehead and listened to him leave.

The sea was calm, black and glittering where the
Grey Ghost
’s lanterns shone. Kael leaned against the rail, staring back at Ilanium – or at any rate, where Ilanium had been before the darkness swallowed it.

‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were brooding,’ Verak said behind him.

‘I’m not brooding,’ Kael said automatically. ‘I don’t brood.’

‘Yes, you are, and you do. All the time.’

He sighed. ‘Yeah.’

Verak leaned against the rail beside him, and Kael turned to put his back to the Empire. His friend waited silently.

‘Did we do the right thing?’

‘In what?’ said Verak. ‘Rescuing her? Bringing her here?’

‘She doesn’t know this world, she doesn’t know how to … how to act, how to talk to people, how to do anything of her own volition.’

‘Then she’ll learn, Kael. She’s a smart girl.’

‘Is she?’

‘She learned how to defend herself against you with a sword. Not many people could do that.’

‘Aye, but she’s also learned to blindly follow orders or she’ll be beaten and starved. How’s she supposed to cope with being Thrice-Marked? I don’t even know what she’ll be called.’

‘Ishtaer, I should imagine.’

‘Funny. I mean she’s not a madam or a lady … what’s next after that?’

‘Queen. Empress.’

‘I imagine Her Imperial Highness will have something to say about that.’ Kael groaned. ‘Verak, how’s she going to get on at court?’

Verak raised his palms. ‘I don’t know. But is standing here fretting about it going to help?’

Kael pinched his nose and glowered at the deck. ‘No,’ he said, ‘but it makes me feel better.’

Ishtaer was woken by the bell.

Eirenn had explained it to her last night, that the Academy’s day was timed by a series of bells. Bells to wake you up and tell you breakfast would be served in half an hour, bells to signal the beginning and end of the morning’s lessons, bells to tell you when lunchtime was over and bells to announce the dinner hour.

‘I’ll meet you out here,’ he said, leaving her in the atrium of her dormitory, ‘after the first bell, and show you around.’ Eirenn was supposed to spend most of his time in Sir Scipius’s training arena, but it seemed to be pretty widely acknowledged that he’d never really achieve the skills he needed to graduate, so no one really minded him skiving off.

She rolled her shoulders and sat up. The room wasn’t cold, thanks to the fire which had been burning cheerfully when she returned from dinner last night, but the stones beneath her were chilly.

She wasn’t brave enough for the bed. Not yet.

She washed with soap and cold water, dressed in the clothes Eirenn had found for her yesterday, and made her way downstairs. Halfway there she heard footsteps coming towards her and paused as she listened acutely.

The footsteps didn’t go around her. They stopped in front of her.

‘You’re the blind girl,’ said a young woman.

‘Yes.’

‘They said you’re gonna train as a Warrior?’

‘Yes,’ Ishtaer said again.

‘Well, how can you?’ said the other girl, her voice accusatory. ‘That’s for men only. Does Sir Scipius know about this?’

‘Of course he does,’ Ishtaer said.

‘Well—’ the girl began again, and then seemed to run out of things to say. ‘There’s never been a woman Warrior before.’

‘I
know
.’ If one more person told her that she’d scream.

‘So how—’

‘Hortensia?’ said another girl. ‘Are you coming?’

‘Yeah, just forgot my scarf. Have you met the blind girl?’

The newcomer paused, then said quietly, ‘You dined with your family yesterday, didn’t you? She was at supper last night. With Lord Krull.’

The silence stretched.

‘I’m his protégée,’ Ishtaer supplied helpfully.

‘Protégée,’ Hortensia said.

The other girl whispered something frantically. Ishtaer didn’t have to try hard to make out the supposed replay: Lord Krull had stormed in and insulted Marcus Glorius, then proclaimed to everyone that Ishtaer was his protégée before sweeping her outside where Livia’s friend Attalus’s brother saw them kissing.

‘What?’ Hortensia gasped, apparently under the impression that ‘blind’ meant ‘unable to hear’. ‘He’s sleeping with her? With the blind girl?’

Ishtaer opened her mouth to correct the assumption, then abruptly remembered Kael’s crew.
‘Up all night, were you, cap’n?’ ‘Demanding lady is she, sir?’

None of them had so much as tried to touch her. Because they thought she was his.

‘But she’s so … so …’

Ishtaer waited politely.

‘Oh my gods, what do you think he’s
like
?’

‘He has very gentle hands,’ Ishtaer said, and the two girls went instantly silent. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m meeting a friend for breakfast.’

She walked down the corridor, and as she turned the corner, Ishtaer was smiling.

‘
The whole class went utterly silent. We were training indoors, it being a filthy day – and you know Sir Scipius would usually rather we were out in it, but the rain was so heavy we couldn’t hear what he said, so he sent us into the gymnasium. And it’s full, maybe twenty or thirty students, even the youngest of them pretty proficient on the bars and the weights and no one pressing less than two hundred—
’

‘Two hundred what?’ interrupted Mags the housekeeper, flipping a large quantity of dough over on itself.

‘Pounds,’ Verak explained. ‘About a sack and a half of flour.’

‘Why are they pressing flour?’ asked Mags’s son Durran.

‘They’re not. A bench press is … y’see, it’s a thing they use in gyms there,’ Kael said, and added, ‘because they don’t do proper work, like us.’

‘What’s a gym?’ Durran asked. Mags rolled her eyes.

‘A gymnasium. It’s where they exercise. Anyway,’ he said quickly, turning his attention back to the letter. ‘So Ishtaer’s just walked into the gym, which is full of bigger, stronger lads who’ve all been training there a while, and – look, this Eirenn puts it better.
You know how it was when you walked in there the first time, not knowing anyone, the new kid, and even if you’re strong and you’ve been working hard, these are lads who’ve been learning how to kill people for months, maybe even years. And it’s a good job she can’t see the looks on their faces, especially Marcus Gloria
’—here Kael allowed himself a chuckle—‘
who looks like he’s swallowed a toad. Anyway, the silence is bad enough, everyone stopping what they’re doing, all the machines going silent, all conversations stopping, and if Sir Scipius hadn’t been there I reckon they’d have turned on her like a wolf pack on a lamb.
’

‘Why would they turn on her?’ Durran asked.

‘Because people are afraid of things that are different,’ his mother told him, thumping the dough. ‘Especially stupid people, and bullies.’

‘The two are often the same thing,’ Verak said idly, bouncing his youngest daughter on his lap.

Kael reached out and grabbed a piece of dough, for which his housekeeper smacked his hand as if he were a child. Kael grinned and ate the dough anyway.

‘
But he was there,
’ he continued reading, ‘
and he told everyone, calm as you like, “This is Ishtaer ex Saraneus, lads, and Lord Krull and I have verified her Warrior’s mark, so she’ll be training with us. Anyone has a problem with that, you can take it up with me. And Lord Krull.”
’

‘I still don’t know how you’ve managed to persuade the whole Empire you’re some kind of bogeyman,’ Mags said. ‘You’ve got flour on your nose.’

Kael ignored that. ‘
So the class goes on training, except for Gloria and his cronies, and they walk over and he says, “A woman can never fight as well as a man, sir,” and
—’

‘And she smashes his face in? I would,’ said Mags, beating the dough to prove it.

‘Aye, well, they don’t breed ’em so tough in the Empire,’ Kael said. ‘Likely Gloria’s never seen a woman stand up for herself.’

‘Gloria’s a girl’s name,’ said Durran scornfully.

‘Indeed it is, which is why I shall endeavour to call the proud Marcus Glorius Livius that on every occasion.’

‘Marcia Gloria Livia,’ giggled the child.

‘I am definitely going to call him that from now on,’ Verak said.

‘
So Scipius doesn’t say anything, just hands Ishtaer a sword, a real one, not one of the wooden practice ones like Gloria has, and bloody Gloria smirks, like he knows he can beat her anyway, and attacks her without waiting for a signal, and she just … it was amazing, my lord, just amazing, she defended herself as if she could see everything coming, every blow, every thrust, every feint, and then she got him with this amazing stop-cut to the wrist, and he drops the sword, like his whole hand’s gone numb, and there’s blood dripping on the ground.

‘
And he’s proper mad now, ’cos not only has he been bested by a girl, but one with no training, and she’s blind, and oh gods, I wish I could re-live that moment any time I wanted, my lord, because it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen. Actually, I take that back; the most wonderful thing was when she lay down her sword and said very calmly, “I can heal that for you if you like.” I thought I would die. It was perfect.
’

‘I like her already,’ Mags said. ‘When can we meet her?’

Kael folded the letter to finish reading later. ‘Next time Eirenn sends a letter.’

‘Can she come visit?’ Durran wanted to know.

Kael looked at the child, all shaggy brown hair and huge eyes, and at the warm, bright kitchen full of people peeling vegetables and kneading dough, out of the window to the courtyard where a couple of lads were chasing after errant chickens, laughing breathlessly, and said, ‘We don’t have visitors, Durran. Not now, not ever.’