Besieged (40 page)

Imoshen hurried up the steps palace and ran straight into Vittoryxe.

‘Where have you been? I’ve looked everywhere.’ Her gaze fell to the scroll Imoshen held to her breast. ‘What’s that, a treatise?’

‘A Sagora–’

‘Mieren knowledge? I don’t know why you bother. Their perception of the world cannot match ours. They have nothing to teach us.’

Imoshen’s gift surged and she saw a closed loop. Vittoryxe could not be reached.

The gift-tutor stiffened. ‘Did you just–’

‘I’m sorry, my gift slipped my control. I had a fright in the free quarter, some brothers–’

‘Who? Which brotherhood?’

‘I didn’t notice.’

Vittoryxe shook her head, a malicious gleam in her eyes. ‘A raedan with so little control? You’ll never earn full adept status. Go.’

Grateful for her escape, Imoshen hurried away.

‘If you know what’s good for you,’ Vittoryxe called after her, ‘you’ll stay in the palace, where you’re safe.’

She wasn’t safe here. Vittoryxe was just waiting for a chance to discredit her. She’d thought, when she helped the gift-tutor escape the attack on the higher plane, that they could be friends. But the near-death experience seemed only to have sharpened Vittoryxe’s animosity.

Imoshen had barely reached her chamber, when a Malaunje came with the news that Reoden wanted to see her.

Excited and curious, she followed them down to a small greeting chamber on the ground floor. It was dark, and a single lamp had been lit.

Reoden turned to face her as she entered. ‘Close the door, Imoshen.’

The healer’s tone made her stomach clench.

‘Don’t look so worried.’ Reoden sighed. ‘You aren’t used to our ways. I thought I had better be plain with you. It was wrong of me to kiss you. You weren’t prepared, and know nothing of casual trysting.’ There was nothing casual about the way Imoshen felt. ‘There is a gulf between us. You’re too young for me.’

Imoshen understood. ‘You don’t want to be associated with me. I’m hated by the brotherhoods and an inconvenience to the sisterhoods.’

Reoden flushed. ‘You know nothing of life in the city. I lead a great sisterhood. I must think of them.’

Imoshen nodded. Her instinct was to fight for what could have been, but they would see each other all the time and... ‘I don’t want to lose you as a friend.’

‘Oh, Imoshen, I will always be your friend.’ Reoden crossed the chamber, went to hug her, then hesitated. She took one of her hands. ‘And we will see each other all the time. You do understand, don’t you?’

She nodded but, as Reoden left, she felt betrayed. She hated this place, with its restrictions and barriers.

‘What did the healer want?’ Frayvia asked when she returned to their chambers.

‘Where’s Iraayel?’

‘With Arodyti and Sarosune. They took him up to the roof garden to show him the glow worms.’

‘Glow worms? This, I must see. Come on.’

So she joined the gift-warriors and her choice-son on the roof. As Iraayel and Frayvia marvelled, Imoshen buried the girl who grew up wild on the island. That girl couldn’t survive here, and there was no other place for her. She would have to reinvent herself.

V
ITTORYXE SEETHED.

Imoshen had seen her at her most vulnerable, and it infuriated her. Knowing that Imoshen had saved her life only added to her frustration. If Imoshen had acknowledged the debt and allowed her to work it off, Vittoryxe could have put it behind her. But Imoshen had dismissed it, so the obligation could never be erased.

Just as Imoshen could not be removed. Not when Egrayne suspected Vittoryxe’s part in the last gift-tutor’s death. The empowerer had no proof, or she would have laid an accusation, but the message was clear: there could be no more accidents.

Which left Vittoryxe with Imoshen, the raedan. The wildcard.

Imoshen... None of the others could see how ambitious the girl was, how she turned every event to her advantage.

Like now.

There she sat under the awning between the two sisterhood leaders. If Imoshen hadn’t been a raedan, they would not bother to cultivate her. If she hadn’t been so powerful, they wouldn’t bother to groom her for leadership. If she hadn’t had a choice-son around the same age as Healer Reoden’s two children, she wouldn’t be sitting there with them right now. The healer said something. All-mother Aayelora laughed, but Imoshen hardly smiled.

Did she even know what an honour it was for her choice-son to associate with the healer’s daughter? Lyronyxe was a sacrare, born of two pure T’En parents. Sacrares were rare. They were hard to carry and birth. More often than not, they were stillborn. They were heir to great gifts, a boon to their sisterhood.

Lyronyxe was the reason the healer had won the leadership of her sisterhood at such a young age. And it was only Reoden’s healing gift that allowed her to produce a healthy sacrare.

Vittoryxe was so angry she had trouble controlling her gift. Power prickled across her skin. All around her the half-bloods worked, tending the flowerbeds and clipping topiary trees. Their copper hair shone in the sun as they studiously ignored her.

‘Choice-mother?’

Vittoryxe looked down on her own choice-son. Why had the inner circle saddled her with another boy child?

‘May I go play with the other children?’

It was on the top of her tongue to refuse Bedutz, but if Imoshen’s child could play with a sacrare, then so could he. ‘Yes. Go on.’

He ran off happily.

The two all-mothers waved, beckoning Vittoryxe. So as not to appear too eager, she turned to her devotee and pretended to inspect her latest acquisition – a bird, with fine tail feathers. She hoped this trait would breed true. ‘Take him to the aviary and place him in the cage next to the others, so they can get used to him.’

Choris nodded and took the bird away.

Only then did Vittoryxe wander over and join the T’En females under the awning.

As she crossed the rooftop garden, the children ran past her, playing hide and seek amongst the flowering pots and citrus trees. Iraayel brushed against a cumquat tree, scattering fruit in his wake.

‘Watch where you’re going!’ Vittoryxe snapped. ‘Honestly...’

‘Vittoryxe.’ Reoden smiled. ‘I was just telling Imoshen, her lack of energy doesn’t arise from a physical illness, but an injury to her gift.’

‘It’s nothing. Don’t trouble yourself,’ Imoshen said quickly.

She was pretending to be humble, but for some reason, only Vittoryxe could see this. ‘Of course Imoshen’s gift is injured. She made the deep-bonding with a male who was then murdered. It’s a wonder she didn’t die with him. The loss of her sacrare son will have damaged her power, too.’

‘Have you heard about the new king of the True-men?’ Reoden asked.

‘What new king?’ All-mother Aayelora sat up.

‘It’s a terrible thing,’ Reoden said. ‘The old king sailed away to make war and, the moment his back was turned, his cousin murdered his heir and claimed the throne. The new king shut the murdered boy’s mother up in an abbey dedicated to their goddess, the Mother.’

‘Vittoryxe, why didn’t I hear of this?’ Aayelora asked.

‘Mieren squabbles are no concern of ours. And King Matxin didn’t murder his cousin’s son,’ Vittoryxe said. She savoured the chance to prove that she was better informed. ‘King Matxin says the gods killed the boy. Apparently, they decided to hold one of their barbaric rituals in a place we had clearly marked as being dangerous, and there was a breach between the planes. The boy was taken.’

‘How awful,’ Imoshen said. ‘The Mieren have no protection from empyrean predators. Why would they–’

‘Because they’re arrogant, and think they know better,’ Vittoryxe snapped.

Imoshen blushed.

One of the children wailed and Imoshen jumped to her feet to check on them.

‘That’s what Malaunje are for,’ Vittoryxe called after her, but she didn’t seem to hear her. With a shrug, Vittoryxe glanced to the two all-mothers. ‘She has no decorum. Have you seen the way she treats her devotee? No concept of the proper distance between T’En and Malaunje.’

‘I’m surprised that nobody informed me about the new king,’ Aayelora said.

‘Personally, I don’t care how many of the Mieren kill each other off, as long as they leave us alone.’ Vittoryxe said. ‘In fact, the more the Mieren fight amongst themselves the better.’

She spotted Imoshen weaving through the potted plants with three children clustered around her while she carried the fourth child, who sobbed in her arms.

‘Mama, come see.’ Lyronyxe beckoned the healer.

Imoshen entered the shadow of the awning and sat down with the child on her lap, turning him around. It was Bedutz.

‘He fell and cut his knee on the edge of a pot,’ Imoshen said.

‘Here, let me...’ Reoden knelt at Imoshen’s feet.

‘No.’ Vittoryxe was determined not to let Imoshen interfere with how she raised her choice-son. ‘He fell because he was being careless. He must suffer or he won’t be careful next time. Bedutz, come to me.’

He slid off Imoshen’s lap and went to her, trying to hold back his tears. Vittoryxe took his hand and stalked off.

She’d only gone a few steps when she turned back. ‘If you ask me, all-mother, it’s not the Mieren we need to worry about. It’s the brotherhoods. Imoshen executed one of their all-fathers and survived an ambush by their hands-of-force. The men fear her, and what they fear, they seek to destroy.’

‘You could just as easily argue that they respect strength,’ Egrayne said, coming up behind her.

‘Safi!’ Iraayel darted past Vittoryxe to hug Egrayne’s choice-daughter. Like Lyronyxe, she was a little older than the others and always leading them into trouble. Sure enough, the sacrare and Reoden’s choice-son ran over to join them. The children huddled together, whispering and giggling, before breaking apart and running off. The garden rang with their laughter.

Vittoryxe felt Bedutz tug on her hand, his injury forgotten. She kept a tight hold on him.

‘The good news is that the brotherhoods are feuding,’ Egrayne said. ‘All-father Chariode won the assets and survivors of the disgraced brotherhood, beating off three of the other all-fathers. There’s been two assassinations since spring that I know of.’

‘That’s terrible,’ Imoshen said.

‘No, it’s good,’ Vittoryxe corrected. ‘There will be retaliations. As long as the men are fighting amongst themselves, they aren’t plotting another brotherhood uprising.’

Imoshen went pale. ‘There was an uprising?’

Vittoryxe smiled. The more Imoshen opened her mouth, the more she revealed her ignorance of the sisterhood’s proud history.

Surely the others must realise she wasn’t suitable to be all-mother. It wasn’t enough just to be a raedan.

Vittoryxe had been busy, planting seeds of doubt in the minds of all the mid- to high-ranking sisters, while shoring up support for her own claim to the position. One day Vittoryxe would be all-mother, which meant if their people ever needed a causare to unite the T’Enatuath, she would be in the running. Then it would be a matter of making sure the vote went her way.

‘Instead of wasting your time reading Sagora treatises, Imoshen, you should study the T’Enatuath’s history.’ Satisfied that she had made her point, Vittoryxe left.

And the very next day, she found Imoshen near the aviary, reading a treatise on the origin of the T’Enatuath.

‘That’s just an educated guess. No one really knows where we came from,’ Vittoryxe told her.

‘I thought I should start from the beginning and work my way through. I need to understand why we have brotherhoods and sisterhoods.’

‘Because it’s the only safe way for adult T’En to live,’ Vittoryxe said as she inspected the plumage of one of her birds.

‘This is your new one?’ Imoshen came over. ‘He’s very beautiful.’

Vittoryxe was not entirely comfortable having Imoshen this close to her prized birds.

‘How do you know their traits will breed true?’

‘Some do, some don’t.’

‘You must have been doing this a long time.’

‘Since I came here,’ Vittoryxe said.
‘
It was right after I saw my choice-mother murdered by a brotherhood warrior. The sisters thought it best if I had a complete change, so they sent me to the city. My new choice-mother gave me a pair of nightingales. I’ve been breeding birds ever since.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stir up painful memories.’

‘I feel nothing,’ Vittoryxe said, determined to make it true.

Imoshen sighed. Vittoryxe wished she would go away.

‘I’d like to help,’ Imoshen offered.

Vittoryxe hesitated. She wanted someone to admire the birds and her knowledge of them, but she did not want to share something this precious with Imoshen.

‘I’m fascinated by how the traits come down through the generations.’

Vittoryxe sniffed. ‘Very well.’

Chapter Thirty-Three

Year 316

‘C
OME WITH US.
’

Imoshen looked up to see Arodyti and Sarosune in their finery, eyes and lips painted, silks parting to reveal glimpses of pale skin, jewelled sandals flashing as they swept into her chamber. She could feel the overflow of their gifts from here.

‘Is it that time of year again?’ Imoshen teased.

‘You’ve never been and you promised us last time.’

Imoshen gestured to her bird breeding chart. ‘I’m working.’

Moving in a cloud of subtle scent, enhanced by her gift, Sarosune came over to see what she was doing. ‘Oh... Vittoryxe and her birds. She works you too hard.’

Imoshen looked down. Vittoryxe wasn’t to blame, although she would give the gift-tutor a copy of the charts. She’d created the charts for the Sagoras and was waiting to hear back from them as to whether her theories on inherited traits matched up with theirs. Venerable Felesoi had been most interested.

‘Reading about a festival and taking part in it are two different things.’ Arodyti rested her elbows on the desk. Imoshen’s gaze slid to the dip of her breasts, a delicate curving shadow. ‘You’ve never attended a spring cusp brotherhood display. You can help us pick our trysting partners for midsummer.’