The Second God (29 page)

Shallack Gurshmonta had his head in his hands. I’d never liked the man, and at one time I’d regarded him as an enemy, but I felt sorry for him now. Something had gone badly wrong, and I think he had some idea what it was, and what the consequences might be.

“May I… may I have some wine?” Flenn said, and Torthran rushed to find some. He came back with two glasses, pushing one into Shallack’s hand.

Flenn took a sip, and it seemed to steady him. “After all the other wagons had gone, the soldiers pulled the Gurshmonta wagons out through the gates. Then they poured oil on them, and set them on fire.”

“Were there…” Yannassia swallowed hard. “Were there any people in the wagons?”

“We could not see any,” Flenn said. “There was no sign of that. As far as we could tell, the wagons were all empty. But then the soldiers went back inside, and the gates closed. And I flew straight here to tell you of it. I hope I did right.”

“Yes, absolutely right,” Yannassia said. “Although I am not sure what to make of it. Shallack, what do you say? Can you add anything to our understanding of this matter?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. He nodded, then seemed to notice the wine in his hand. Taking a convulsive gulp, he said, “This is my fault. I thought… I hoped… but…”

His head fell again, and he ran a hand over his face.

“Take as much time as you need,” Yannassia said gently. “Yes, what is it?”

The steward’s head apologetically poked round the door. “It is the Very Honourable Speaker, Most Powerful. He is concerned by your abrupt withdrawal from the feast, and wishes to enquire if there is anything he can do to help.”

“He is outside? Then by all means bring him in. This is a matter he should know, anyway.”

The Speaker of the Port Holdings was a good-looking man in his forties, less flamboyantly dressed than many of his compatriots, although the coastal folk’s fondness for beards was odd, to my Bennamorian eyes. He had been Holder at Shannamar for some years before becoming Speaker, so we knew him well as a sensible man.

I briefly told him Flenn’s story, and he nodded, making sympathetic noises. “This is unsettling, but it will be a local dispute, surely. Some infringement of the rules, a tax unpaid, perhaps. The wagons and goods are forfeit, but the merchants will be held in prison, safe and sound, if a little uncomfortable, I dare say. There is no reason to suspect any more serious implications.”

Yannassia’s face lightened. “Do you think so? If you are correct, Zand, then our people there may still be safely hidden away, and we need not expect any retaliation.”

For a heartbeat, perhaps two, I was reassured. But then Shallack made a strangled sound in his throat.

We all turned to him, and my heart sank, seeing the grief and terror mingled on his face.

“Shallack?” Yannassia said softly.

“Not safe,” he whispered. “Tried to get them out. Must have been discovered. All lost, for certain.”

Yannassia squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a moment, with a sound almost like a sob. “Oh, Shallack. What have you done?”

Gradually, with long pauses when he was incapable of speech, Shallack told the story. Trading with Greenstone Ford was close to impossible, and there was no profit in it any longer, but they continued, knowing there were Bennamorians trapped inside, hoping there would be a chance to rescue them. There were eight of them, but they had friends amongst the local population, and they had managed to make contact with the Gurshmonta wagoners several moons ago. Shallack had devised an ingenious plan – eight wagons with false bottoms. In the crowded chaos of the market, the eight could make their way one by one to the Gurshmonta wagons, and hide away in the secret compartments. That way, even if the wagons were searched as they left, nothing untoward would be seen.

“But we must have been betrayed!” he cried. “Someone must have told the authorities, and now all is lost. They must be dead by now. Or worse,” he added in a whisper. “These people are barbaric. And the gods alone know what retribution they will take on us now, and it is all my fault.”

“I warned you not to interfere!” I hissed at him. “Now look what you’ve done. We will have war and destruction, no doubt. They will march on Bennamore, and perhaps we will
all
be destroyed.”

“I know.” His voice was barely audible. “I meant it for the best, truly.” He knelt before Yannassia, head bowed. “There is no punishment sufficient for my failure. I accept my fate, Most Powerful. All I ask is a few suns to arrange my affairs.”

I’d never seen him so abject before, and for an instant my mind conjured a different image, of the celebrations if this plan had worked. What a hero he would have been! Such an audacious rescue plan, and it could easily have worked. And then I remembered that it was Arran’s mistake which had revealed the secret of our spies to Shallack. How could I condemn Shallack for trying to do some good with that knowledge? If it had worked, it would have been a tremendous relief to everyone, a quiet victory over the Dragon God.

Before Yannassia could speak, I said, “I do not think this merits such a punishment.”

She raised her eyebrows. “No?”

“The intention was good, the scheme was an excellent one, and had it worked as planned, it would have been greatly to the benefit of Bennamore. It was a brave and patriotic attempt to rescue our people from an uncertain fate, and I do not think it has worsened our position.”

“What happened to war and destruction you were talking about only moments earlier?”

“They may turn their eyes on Bennamore whatever we do. Their aims and motives are unknown to us, and it is pointless to speculate.”

“Very well,” Yannassia said crisply, standing and shaking out her skirts. “Shallack, we will set this down to patriotic fervour gone astray, and consider the matter closed. However, it is imperative that you attempt nothing more, is that understood?” He nodded vigorously. “It is not for the nobles to interfere in disputes of this nature. But I would give a great deal to know more. Whether Shallack’s plot was uncovered, for instance, or, as Zand suggests, this is just a local dispute. And what is the fate of our people, are they dead or just languishing in prison? If the latter, we might be able to do some kind of deal – pay a ransom to recover them, perhaps. These people may be barbaric, but they are not fools. They have never agreed to proposals to open talks or even responded to my messages, but they have always avoided direct confrontation. This is the perfect opening for us to meet with them more directly, and find out what is behind all this hostile expansion. We need to know what they want. So we may yet be able to salvage something from this.”

“They also know now what Ly’s war-beasts are capable of,” I said. “They may want their revenge for all that harassment.”

“Or it may be that they will want to deal with us more circumspectly as a result,” she said. “But we must know exactly what happened and what has become of our people, so it is a risk we must take, I think. Drina, how soon can you get there to have a look?”

“I wouldn’t like to fly so far at night, not so close to darkmoon. If I leave at dawn and take the shortest route, I can be there before sunset.”

“Kalmander is willing to fly in the dark,” Arran said. “I can leave within the hour, if you wish it.”

“Thank you, Arran,” Yannassia said. “Please do that, but take no unnecessary risks. Just have a look and report back with any news. Do not attempt to make contact directly. We want you back safely.”

He bowed formally to her, and whisked away to change into his flying gear.

“Then you and Ly can go tomorrow,” Yannassia said. “You will have to use your initiative a great deal, Drina, since none of us will be there to advise you. Perhaps we should discuss strategies for each possible outcome—”

“I have a better idea,” I said. “If I go to Greenstone Ford but Ly stays here, then we will have instant communication between us. You will have the information as soon as I do, and can make a considered decision on how to proceed.”

She smiled. “Ah, yes. That is a much better idea. But you must take the greatest care, Drina. If you are captured, I cannot abandon my responsibilities to the Port Holdings to rescue you. Be very wary of these people.”

“I know. It may be a trap. I have read all the histories, you know.”

“Of course you have. You have read every book in the Keep library, I daresay. I know how sensible and cautious and well-protected you are, but none of that stops me worrying about you.
All
of you. Go now, get some sleep, but come and see me before you leave tomorrow.”

~~~~~

That was a strange night. It was the first time since our blood-bonding that the three of us had not been together, curled up in one bed like children. Ly was unaccountably subdued.

“Are you cross with me for leaving you behind?” I said as we snuggled into the blankets.

“No, not at all. That is very sensible. It is, in many ways, the real purpose of a
clavaia
, at least for a
byan shar
. That is how the Clanlands are managed when they are united under one leader. The Clans are very independent, as a rule, and do not like to be told what to do. It is very useful, then, for a
byan shar
to send people wherever they are needed.”

“Like your lion guard.”

“Yes, exactly. I shall have to blood-bond with them next summer, I suppose, so that they can be my eyes and ears, and then you and Arran will not have to go away.” A long pause, and then he said, “I do not like us to be separated. Even though I understand the necessity, I do not like it.”

I hugged him tight, and he nestled into my neck with a sigh of contentment.
“Goodnight, sweet Princess. Thank you for saving me.”

Arran was a strong presence in my mind, but he was far away, flying on Kalmander over the southern reaches of the Sky Mountains. If I looked through Arran’s eyes, there was nothing to see – the land lay in darkness. Once, I saw a fire below where a Bennamore caravan was camped for the night, and occasionally when the clouds cleared the road showed as a white line, but for most of his journey the stars were obscured and the moon was too feeble to show the landscape. I just had to trust to Kalmander to know where he was flying.

When Ly had finally drifted off to sleep and my own tiredness was catching up with me, I sent my thoughts to Arran.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine. This is fun!”

“Aren’t you cold, flying at night?”

“Not especially. Why are you still awake? Go to sleep, my little flower.”

“Good night, my love.”

“Sleep well.”

I smiled, and slept.

~~~~~

When I woke, Arran’s presence was as strong as ever. I knew instantly that he was alive and happy and nearly at the watch camp. While I drank my morning brew, and dressed, and bade Yannassia farewell, and went up to the roof, I could feel Arran in my mind, as constant as a heartbeat. If ever anything dreadful happened to him, I would be aware of it at once. It didn’t stop me worrying about him, but at least I would never have to wonder whether he was alive or dead. And when I reached Arran’s side in a few hours, I would have the same reassurance about Ly.

Sunshine was excited. She’d had no serious flying for some time, and was longing to stretch her wings. I hoped she had the strength for such a long flight, for dusk came early at this time of year, and camping alone in the wilderness, waiting for dawn, held no appeal. I had packed some provisions, just in case, and it helped that wild wolves or bears were no longer a fear, but even so, I didn’t relish the prospect.

Flenn was to follow after me, in case we needed an interpreter. He’d made a study of the oddly guttural language of the Karningplain, which was spoken by everyone at Greenstone Ford. It was also useful that he was a mage, and had a dozen ways to get us out of trouble, if need be. His usual eagle was still too weak to fly, but he had chosen another and used his magic to control her. It was not as reliable a method as the Clanfolk’s mind bonding, but it worked.

Ly came to see me off, face serious, shoulders hunched. “Take care. Do nothing hasty. These are dangerous people, remember that.”

“I will.” I gave him a final hug, and then, because he looked so dispirited, a long kiss which brought a smile to his lips.

“It is funny,” he said, “It used to be Arran who got left behind, and now I know just how he felt.”

“You are not really left behind,” I said. “You are with me – with both of us – every moment. Besides, I shall be back in no time. I’m not planning any heroics, just trying to find out what happened and whether our people can be helped.”

I’d not been flying long when Arran reached Greenstone Ford.
“Do you want me to fly over the wagons?”
he thought.
“Or go down to have a closer look?”

“Not yet. Talk to whoever is on watch duty, and see if anything has happened since Flenn left. Have a look at the wagons through the seeing tube. Don’t show yourself, in case you get hit by a windstorm.”

“I do not think it could hurt me.”

“No, but it could hurt Kalmander. Wait until I get there and can remove its magic. Don’t forget to report everything to Ly.”

But there was nothing to report. The wagons had smouldered almost to nothing, and no one had gone in or out of the gates. On the walls, soldiers patrolled as usual, as if nothing at all had happened.

The flight was less taxing than I might have expected. Sunshine had greater reserves of strength than I’d remembered, and although the air was cold enough that my breath made great clouds, I never felt uncomfortable. Maybe Ly’s blood was making me as tolerant of temperature as he was.

Arran was waiting for me at the watch camp. Sunshine spiralled down to deposit me before rushing off to the ridge where Kalmander sat looking down at us, the usual ripple of amusement in his mind. I wondered what he found so entertaining in us. He reminded me of an elderly uncle of Cal’s who often came to visit when I was a child. He would sit and watch us play, always with a knowing little smile on his face, as if our antics were a great joke that only he understood.

“Good evening, Kalmander,”
I thought. He clicked his beak in response, and the amusement deepened.

But then Arran wrapped me in a bear-hug, and I had no more time to wonder about it.

“You made good time,” he said. “But you must have flown through rain. You are soaked.”

I looked at my jacket in surprise. “So I am. I didn’t notice any rain. Maybe we passed through cloud?”

He laughed. “The weather seems to affect us less now, and flying is easier, I find. We are becoming more Clan with every moon that passes. But come and eat and tell me what the plan is.”

He sat me down beside the fire, and pushed a bowl of stew into my hands. “No plan yet, and it’s too dark now to do anything. In the morning, I’ll have a look and we can think about it.”

“I don’t see what we
can
do, to be honest,” he said gloomily. “Whether our people are alive or dead, we can hardly walk up to the gates and ask, can we?”

“Can’t we?”

“Drina, we are at war with these people!”

“Not exactly, and even if that were true, enemies may still have honourable dealings with each other. Besides, they cannot hurt us. Sunshine and Kalmander are vulnerable, but
we
are protected.”

“They could take us prisoner.”

“If they do that, they risk open war with Bennamore. I don’t think they’ll want to take that chance. They’re fully stretched at the moment, and we have the power to cut them off from their homeland in the north. I think we’re safe enough. But we’ll see what things look like in the morning, and what Yannassia says.”

~~~~~

Another strange night. This time, it was Arran I cuddled up to, and he wasn’t subdued at all. In fact, he was full of vigour.

“I don’t think we should,” I said. “What about Ly?”

“He is not here, but I am,” Arran said sharply.

“But he feels everything that we feel.”

“He feels—? Oh, of course. Then he would—? Oh. Does that mean… we have to… abstain whenever we are apart? Because that would not be a comfortable situation.”