Juliet McKenna - Northern Storm

Reluctantly, Kheda looked into the ensorcelled pool. An image floated on the iridescent magic. Several sailing boats scarcely bigger than pearl skiffs were drawn up on a muddy landing.

Not such unusual boats for fishermen.’ Kheda scowled dubiously all the same.

‘With enough men to crew them five times over and no sign of nets?’ scoffed Dev. ‘Granted, they’ve got women with them, but no children, no elders. And if they are honest islanders come back to Chazen, why are they hiding their boats?’

Kheda watched the minuscule figures hastily concealing the vessels under green branches hacked and ripped from the knot trees. ‘Show me those huts.’

Dev swept his hands over the pool and the image shivered, clearing to reveal the battered remnants of a village set just out of reach of tide and storm where ironwood trees offered shade.

‘There’s not a sailer seedling planted and no one’s tended those vegetable plots this side of the rains,’ Kheda said more to himself than to Dev. ‘What do you suppose they’re here for?’

‘It’s half a year since you drove out the invaders.’ Dev shrugged, unconcerned. ‘It’s a fair bet some island or other will have something worth stealing by now.’

Not in that village.’ Kheda studied the crude repairs made to those few houses still standing after the torrential rains of the wet season had added to the depredations of the invaders. Holes and burned patches in thatch and walls had simply been roughly patched with woven panels torn from the remnants of wrecked huts. Where exactly are they? They’re not staying anywhere in Chazen without explaining themselves to me.

‘Which will just mean more delay,’ said Dev with distaste. ‘You can see as well as I can that they’re no loyal Chazen folk come home to rebuild their lives.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘I can chase them off for you from here. They won’t stop rowing till they run aground on the northern mainland.’

‘You use no magic without my sanction,’ snapped Kheda. ‘And remember what I said If anyone sees you using any enchantment, I’ll behead you myself.’

The mage gazed at him, untroubled. ‘Do you think they’ll believe you when you swear you’d no idea that I could be such a foul thing as a wizard? Who knows, they might. Stranger things have happened,’ he taunted, ‘like wild men coming out of the empty ocean, following wizards who clear their path with torrents of murderous fire. And stranger still, those same wizards suddenly all starting a fight to the death among themselves, presumably to be cock of the dunghill they’ve made of the Chazen domain. And strangest of all, Daish Kheda, who everyone would swear was dead, just happens to be there to see it and to spearhead an Archipelagan riposte. Which does at least entitle him to lay claim to the domain when Chazen Sail, coward though he was, happens to die in most peculiar circumstances.’ Kheda gritted his teeth. ‘We can deal with this without your enchantments. Just show me where they are.’ Dev concentrated on the shimmering pool. ‘We can accidentally run across these people if you can talk Shaiam into cutting across to the more northerly sea lane that runs back to the residence.’ He looked up at Kheda, dark eyes unfathomable. ‘Then we set sail for the western isles as soon as you’ve seen your new year in. I don’t want to lose my chance of finding some clue as to where those invaders came from before your swordsmen slaughter the last of them. And I’ll be going looking in my own way and be cursed to your Aldabreshin ignorance and fear of magic. You owe me, Kheda, and don’t think you can settle our account with a knife in my ribs.’

‘First things first. Let’s see who these beggars washed up on Chazen shores might be.’ Kheda looked down to find he was gripping one of his sword hilts and thrust it back into its scabbard with a muted click ‘And let’s get back to the ships before someone comes looking for us.’

Clearing out such parasites is something honest I can do for Chazen s good at least. Will they prove to be thieves, though, or truly paupers in need of our care?

Do you want to make any wager against the future here? If Dev is proved right, does that mean your best course will be to take him to the western isles in the hope of unravelling the mysteries of those savages? The warlord turned his back on the wizard, heading for the shore with rapid strides. He barely slowed as he entered the water, wading out to the ladders hanging from the Mist Dove.

‘Hesi hasn’t seen any sign of Nyral,’ Shaiam announced without preamble.

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Kheda glanced over at the Yellow Serpent waiting patiently out in deeper water. ‘But he had better keep looking. As for ourselves, we had best set a course to the residence if we’re to be sure of arriving for the turn of the year. Won’t we make a quicker passage if we cut across towards the main sea lane coming down from the north?’ He looked at Shaiam, brows raised in query.

I hope that makes sense. I could almost wish for one of Dev’s treacherous barbarian maps of these waters. I don’t think I will ever understand Chazen’s isles and backwaters the way I did those of Daish. You have to be born to a domain to truly know it.

Shaiam nodded slowly, a little perplexed. ‘I don’t see it making much difference but we might pick up some wind to win us a few ship lengths.’

Kheda hid his relief as he feigned a new thought. ‘It’s always possible Nyral has sailed that way. Signal Hesi to follow us and the Yellow Serpent can search those reaches.’

As Dev climbed over the rail on to the stern platform, Shaiam moved to shout this new plan across to Hesi. Yere glanced curiously at Dev, to be met with a blank look that the barbarian edged with just a hint of challenge. The youthful helmsman turned his attention to calling down to the rowing master and settling himself at his steering oars.

As Shaiam set his crew hauling on their oars with a shout of encouragement, Kheda moved to sit cross-legged at the rear of the stern platform. He took off his helm and stared ahead, unseeing. Muddy seawater from his trousers spread across the deck, glistening briefly before the breeze brushed it away. Dev sat silently beside him, the barbarian fingering the links of his chain-mail hauberk as he dried in the sun.

Have there truly been such positive omens and so many favourable portents on this voyage? Can I be sure I’m not misreading them? Could the con-uption of the savages’ enchantments still be perverting the natural order in Chazen? Could my ties to past and present have been severed by the touch of Dev’s magic?

I’m sick of such uncertainty. My commitment to this domain must surely link me to its future. I must start looking to the heavens again. The stars ride far above any earthly taint. And I must be sure I am committed to Chazen. I must turn my back on Daish once and for all if I’m to be any kind of warlord to these people, or any kind of husband to Itrac Chazen.

As Kheda looked up, resolutely banishing recollections of clearer seas, the trireme broke free of the clinging islands to reach a broad channel opening still wider to the south. Kheda took an appreciative breath of the fresher air but noted the empty vista with displeasure.

Dev’s right to wonder at the lack of trade. There should be merchant galleys sailing north and south at this season—Chazen’s own and visitors from all the local domains proud to fly the pennants that give them the right of passage in our waters.

‘My lord!’ A shout from the prow was half-surprised, half-alarmed, and one of the youthful swordsmen came running back along the side deck. ‘There’s a boat in the water, my lord, overturned.’ His voice turned to outrage. ‘It’s been holed, my lord, deliberately. Looks like an axe did it.’