Juliet McKenna - The Warrior's Bond

“But there are many things you do need to know.” Casuel leaned forward, face eager. “I made some preliminary notes, but we need to identify particular areas of concern—”

“Not tonight, if you please,” Temar pleaded.

“Give the lad a chance to catch his breath,” Ryshad chided Casuel genially.

Temar suddenly felt exhausted. He set down his half-finished glass with an unsteady hand. “I’ll gladly learn all I may from you and you’ll have my thanks, but for now I’ll bid you good night.”

“Arimelin send you pleasant dreams,” said Ryshad.

Temar looked sharply at him but saw nothing but good will in the man’s face. “And to you,” he stammered before hurrying from the room.

It’s such a commonplace to wish the goddess send someone refreshing dreams that the words were out of my mouth before I’d realised what I was saying. Temar’s startled look set nervous fingers plucking at the back of my own mind and, once I’d bid Casuel good night, I climbed the candlelit stairs of the guest house with uncommon reluctance. I’d thought nigh on a year of being alone in my own head had cured me of the horrors of having my mind invaded by another’s, but it seemed not. I even considered going back for a flask of some liquor to drown any dreams but sternly reminded myself I’d found such remedies ineffective enough in my callow youth. Uncomfortably aware of Temar’s presence in the next room, I resolutely diverted my thoughts by speculating what Livak might be up to and listened to the chimes of the shrine sounding well into the night.

Arimelin must have been busy elsewhere. When I finally fell asleep I didn’t dream of my red-haired beloved or anything else and woke to a clear sunny morning. Washed, shaved and dressed in short order, I was downstairs early enough to startle a servant girl sweeping the hall floor.

“We’re done in the dining salon, sir.” She sent a cloud of dust out of the open door billow in a golden haze. “You can make yourself a tisane or I can fetch you something from the kitchens?”

I shook my head. “I’ll breakfast with everyone else.”

The sideboard in the salon was laid with delicate ceramic cups and an array of jars with silver tags around their necks identifying the herbs and spices within. A kettle sat on a small charcoal stove set in the fireplace, puffing gentle wisps of steam up the chimney. I was finding a spoon when the door opened behind me and I turned to see Temar looking much better for a good night’s sleep.

“Tisane?” I dangled a pierced silver ball by its chain.

Temar gave a brief smile but his wolf-pale eyes were still wary. “We use scraps of muslin in Kel Ar’Ayen.”

“Like most people this side of the ocean.” I clicked the little sphere open and spooned in some lemon balm. “But noble guests are accustomed to their little luxuries.”

Temar made some noise that could have been agreement or not. He studied the crystal jars before helping himself to some red-stemmed mint. “Back in my day, this shrine was a place set aside for the contemplation and study of Artifice.” A broader smile cracked his rather solemn expression. “ ‘Back in my day’; I sound like some grandsire lamenting his lost youth.” The smile faded. “Well, it’s certainly lost, along with my grandsire and everyone else I ever knew.”

“But you have new friends,” I said encouragingly. “And the House of D’Olbriot will welcome you as warmly as one of their own.”

Temar was staring out of the window, tisane forgotten. “I knew it was all gone, that they were all gone, but in Kel Ar’Ayen things aren’t so different, not to how it was when we first arrived. We’d lost all we’d worked for but we knew that, with the Elietimm destroying everything as we fled—” His voice trailed off into uncertainty.

I took the tisane ball from his unresisting hands and added some bittertooth, my mother’s specific for low spirits. “And now you’re here?” Fetching the kettle, I poured water into both cups, hoping no one would interrupt us.

Temar sighed, lacing his long fingers round the cup’s comforting warmth. “I don’t know where I am. Bremilayne was a fishing village, a few boats pulling crabs from the rocks.” We both looked down at the sizeable fleet returning from the night’s fishing, seabirds wheeling within the massive curve of the harbour wall. “The adepts founded their sanctuary here because the place was so isolated, of no use or interest to anyone else. That has certainly changed.” He gestured at the imposing houses set around the equally impressive precincts of the shrine.

“The port deals with all the Gidestan trade,” I explained. “Goods from the mountains come down the river to Inglis and are shipped down here.”

“To be carried over the mountains to the west?” Temar nodded at a shallow cleft in the looming ridge. “Even the skyline has changed. When did that landslip close the old route?”

As he pointed I saw a hollow where a great mass of stone and earth had fallen from the heights in some past age. The sprawl of broken ground wasn’t immediately obvious as trees tall enough to make ships’ masts dotted the scrub. “Not in my lifetime, or anyone since my great-grandsire’s, I should think,” I admitted.

“Perhaps I should ask your friend Casuel,” Temar suggested, and his half-smile encouraged me.

“I know something of what you’re feeling,” I reminded him.

Temar sipped his drink and looked up with frank scepticism. “How so?”

“The Aldabreshin Archipelago was as foreign a place to me as all this is to you,” I pointed out. “I found my feet there. It’ll take us a good while to cross the country, and I warn you Casuel’s determined to teach you all you need to know, and more besides, I’ll wager. In any case, Solstice Festival is only five days, and once it’s over you can take ship back to Kellarin whenever you like.”

Temar suddenly set his cup down. “I have not asked your pardon for my part in your enslavement.”

I was taken aback. “You were hardly to know what was happening, caught up in the enchantment as much as me. What’s done is gone and we need to be looking to the future, not turning over last autumn’s leaves.” I managed to make something of a joke of it and in any case I blamed Planir far more than I’d ever blame Temar.

Temar studied my face and some of the tension left him.

“And as far as we can tell, it was the Elietimm setting their claws in my mind that woke you in Relshaz and set you searching for your lost companions,” I reminded him. Temar’s fellow colonists had been sleeping like him, their enchanted minds held in seemingly innocent artefacts. Once roused, Temar’s consciousness had overwhelmed my own, starting a frantic quest for one of those trinkets that had landed me in chains. Taken for a thief, I’d been condemned to be sold into slavery to repay my so-called victim’s losses. “That Elietimm enchanter we killed in Kellarin was the one who got the Aldabreshin woman to buy me. He was after the sword that was linking me to you and the secrets of the colony.” Even my anger with the wizards didn’t blind me to the true enemy here.

“True enough.” Temar’s face hardened. “I have no doubt the Elietimm will attack us again, whatever Master Devoir may say. We must have means to defend ourselves. I refuse to stay reliant on the Archmage for protection.”

“So what do you need?” I prompted.

“First and most important we must recover the artefacts to restore those still held in enchantment,” said Temar firmly. “Several of our most adept are still lost to us.”