Juliet McKenna - Northern Storm

Healer I may be, but there’s nothing I can do for eyes grown clouded, silvered as the pearls they’ve sought for so many years. Nor for those who find blurring in their vision means they can only see what they’re not actually looking at. I may be their augur but I’ve no explanation for that paradox. But the divers are always remarkably sanguine; they know some will pay that price for the oceans bounty. Everything has its price.

‘Leave it to me,’ Dev said confidently. ‘I can be your eyes and ears, just like a proper body slave.’

‘I don’t have a lot of choice, do I?’ retorted Kheda, waving away the sweetmeats and taking another drink to try to rid his mouth of the cloying taste.

But you’re right. You are an accomplished spy and one who spent enough years sailing the length and breadth of the Archipelago’s domains to know all the ins and outs of masquerading as a body slave. Everything except the sword skills.

But are you still spying for those mysterious barbarian powers that first sent you into Aldabreshin waters? And how will you seek to profit on your own account with whatever you learn, with your northern greed and utter lack of scruple? What will these people of Chazen think of me, if you ‘re caught out in some despicable connivance?

What wouldn’t I give to have Telouet back as my body slave, strong sword arm and faithful friend besides? The only consolation for his loss is that he serves Sirket now. There’s no one I would rather have trusted my son to.

Dev grinned as Kheda handed him the empty goblet. ‘I can tell you one thing none of you Archipelagans seem to know: you can do better than silk for stringing pearls. Horsehair, that’s what you want, white horsehair. That’s what all the gem traders on the mainland use. It’s the first thing they do when they get their hands on Aldabreshin pearls—resting them.’

Taken aback despite himself, Kheda rallied. ‘Just how am I supposed to get such stuff when we’re as far from the unbroken lands as it’s possible to get? And every northern domain that’s been tempted to trade for horses from you barbarians has seen their investment sicken and die before the year’s out. No, I’ll settle for safer trades and more immediately useful ones, food most of all. Isei may be overbold but he’s not wrong to worry about a hungry end to the dry season.’

‘Well, you’d better not go hungry here or you’ll be insulting all these fine people.’ Dev searched through the sweetmeats with careful fingers. ‘I think that’s a plainer one. If you’re worried about them running short of food hereabouts, can’t they just eat the pearl oysters instead of fattening up maggots for the fish and the seabirds and raising a stink to curdle the clouds?’

‘Have you ever tried eating a pearl oyster, you ignorant barbarian?’ Kheda was surprised into laughing and nearly choked on the little cake. ‘I’d eat the coral gulls first and they taste disgusting.’ He paused to catch his breath before continuing, face serious. No, I don’t want anyone in the domain reduced to such straits; they’d give up on my rule for good if they were. Besides, it’s an ill omen to cook any kind of shellfish and find you’ve ruined a pearl with the heat of a fire. Haven’t you seen how thoroughly the divers cut up purple conch flesh, to make sure there’s nothing hidden in the folds?’

‘If you’re not hungry, can I eat something?’ Dev asked as he handed Kheda the refilled goblet. ‘I lost my breakfast, if you recall.’ He barely waited for Kheda’s nod of permission before cramming a couple of sticky morsels into his mouth, speaking through the food. ‘It doesn’t look as if you’ve much to worry about. If this year’s harvest is as good as everyone’s saying it will be, you’ll have enough pearls to buy each islander their own sack of sailer grain.’

Kheda shook his head as he sipped sard-ben-y juice. ‘It’s a good start but it’s only pearls. You might only get a handful out of every thousand oysters. The shells in these reaches are too small and too thin to provide much nacre. That’s the foundation of Daish prosperity, the inner face of the oyster shells. That’s why they don’t have to trouble themselves salvaging every last dust pearl from the slurry in the vats.’

‘You should let me take a boat back to the northern lands and do some trading for you there.’ Dev looked out towards the ocean, face unreadable. ‘That little box they gave you just now would fetch a king’s ransom on its own.’

‘All the trading and bargaining done in Chazen’s name is my lady Itrac’s responsibility,’ Kheda said repressively. ‘I won’t encroach on her prerogatives nor yet insult her with such a proposal.’

And I wouldn’t wager an empty oyster shell on my chances of ever seeing you again. You may be as much of a liability as you are an asset as a body slave but I want you where I can see you.

‘Your loss.’ Dev shrugged and sighed as he looked over towards the reefs. ‘Remind me, what are we doing now?’

‘We’re waiting until one of the fishermen Borha sent out comes back with something by which I can read the omens for the rest of the pearl harvest.’

‘How long’s that going to be?’ Dev looked askance at the warlord.

‘Who knows?’ Kheda shrugged. Which is all part of the omen in itself

And who else will be here to read the omens and cast their own interpretations around once the Yellow Serpent has carried me away?

As he drank his juice, the warlord glanced idly around the crude huts, eyes alert for any man with the long, untrimmed hair and beard of a soothsayer. There was none to be seen, wherever he looked. Does that mean there are no seers here? Or are they just staying out of sight till I’m gone? Kheda tried to put such thoughts out of his mind and enjoy the shade beneath the pavilion. They had waited there long enough for Dev to discreetly eat most of the sweet cakes before a cry of anticipation went up along the waterline. A sturdy skiff was approaching the beach, the two men crewing it shouting and waving urgent hands. Chazen islanders abandoned their toils over baskets and tubs to splash into the shallows and help drag the craft on to drier, firmer ground. Pearl drillers and pickers alike stood up, their tasks forgotten as they strained to see what was being brought ashore. The spokesmen forgot their dignity as they hurried down to the shore with everyone else, Borha and Isei shoving their way to the fore.

‘There’s a favourable portent in itself, that they’ve found something so soon.’ Kheda got to his feet, feeling a welcome lightening of his mood.

‘Here you go again,’ Dev said under his breath, ‘getting up to your elbows in something’s innards. Have you any idea how the laundry maids complain when I take them a tunic with blood up to the armpits?’ Kheda laid a hand in the middle of the sarcastic barbarian’s mailed chest. ‘I’ve told you before: curb your tongue. For a man so keen to boast of his cleverness, you can be remarkably stupid.’ Not waiting for the barbarian to find a reply, he strode out from the shade of the little pavilion, the sunlight striking down hard on his unprotected head.

Which is pretty stupid of you, oh wise and powerful warlord, and you can hardly min the moment for all these onlookers by going back for your helmet, you fool. You need to curb your temper or you’ll both end up dead, your blood spilled along with Dev’s. There are some things no domain’s people will forgive. ‘It’s a flail-tailed shark, my lord!’ The press of people around the pearl skiff parted to reveal Borha. ‘Have you seen many of them this harvest?’ Kheda looked around for some diver or boatmaster among the anxious, anticipatory faces clustering close.

‘This is the first sign of any shark, my lord.’ A thickset man spoke up, bare-chested in coarse cotton trousers faded to colourlessness. ‘And we’ve manned a ring of watch boats at first light every day, well before the divers take to the water.’