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Authors: Stephen Hunt

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy

Foul Tide's Turning (45 page)

BOOK: Foul Tide's Turning
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‘If you mean he cannot but open his mouth for demented tales to spill out and build a hill of lies, then I agree with you. But Sariel did not lie, I think, about the demons. I caught a glimpse of the strange creature he battled in Vandia during the rebellion. If it was not a stealer broken free of hell, then it was doing a most fine impression of one.’

‘You speak of dark attractors,’ said Kerge. ‘I wish I could find the truth in my numbers.’

‘Perhaps be glad you cannot. We have enough problems with blue-skinned raiders and our troublesome little bumo. Let the stealers coil under hell while we mortals scurry on the ground below heaven. Should we never meet, I will count myself well satisfied.’

By the time the distant horizon had called down the tumbling sun, Sheplar and Kerge faced a second hard night’s ride, and Sheplar doubted whether they could ride further without falling asleep in the saddle – assuming their exhausted horses didn’t collapse first. Even their exuberant hunting hound showed signs of losing his will to continue, no more springing around their steeds. Golden-ears’ snout was low to the ground in a slow, plodding pace. They needed to make camp this night. Sheplar urged his horse to climb one last hill to search for ruins they might shelter in, Khow close behind him. And that was where he spotted the camp fire of those who halted before them. Sheplar carefully led his horse back to the lee of the hill and returned with rifle and telescope.

‘Is it those we chase?’ asked Kerge, crouching down besides the skyguard.

Sheplar extended his eye-glass towards the distant crackling fire, focusing on the silhouettes of tethered horses. Six mounts. Too many to be scouts, far too few to be stragglers from a clan. Just about the right number for the raid’s survivors. As Sheplar stared, he spied the dark shape of a flying wing’s propeller strapped to one of the steeds. No doubt broken from the aircraft they had escaped Talatala in. So, it still amused the chieftains to use skyguard propeller wood to carve their seats? Warming their savage arses inside their tents on a trophy taken from their enemies. He saw shadows sitting around the fire. No doubt bragging of their daring attack on Talatala and how easy it had been to steal Rodalian women for wives.
I have extra booty for you; a little sharp Rodalian steel you left behind
. ‘Fate smiles on us.’

‘Is Lady Cassandra among them?’

‘I can see only shadows at this range. But they have the propeller from the flying wing they stole, so I do not doubt they have our little bumo, too.’

‘How are we to do this, manling?’

‘Let us stake our nags and Golden-ears out of sight and then crawl towards the camp. You hide by the horses, ready to cut them loose, saving three mounts for us. I will grab the bumo. If the Nijumeti get in our way, they will meet my bullets; if our surprise is complete, we will leave them horseless. A long walk back on foot and songs of shame will await them at their clan, rather than proud boasts of how they set fire to Talatala.’

‘They will die out here without horses.’

‘I doubt it, but they will surely wish they had,’ scowled Sheplar. ‘Save your kind thoughts for the bumo. She may have been dishonoured by these devils.’

Golden-ears wanted to come with them, but Sheplar muttered one of the instructions the fortress soldiers had passed on to him, and the hound sunk to his belly, watching the pair of secured horses with raised ears.
Silence to protect the herd
. He and the gask stalked around the low hill before sinking into the grass on the other side, crawling slowly through the sward towards the fire ahead. With their heads by the rich dirt of the plains, waist-high grass swallowed the two rescuers whole. Sheplar needed to halt every few minutes, gently raising his head above the grass line to ensure that they were still navigating true. The land, already damp from evening’s dew, grew moister still as a mist started flowing around them.
All for the good
. It took twenty minutes of careful skulking, the rifle clutched in Sheplar’s hands, before they gained the camp. Sheplar jabbed two fingers towards the tethered mounts, and Kerge split off to flank the horses.

Save for the dull crackling of the flames, Sheplar heard only heavy silence from the camp. No boasts. No songs. No curses. Had the nomads fallen asleep huddled around their fire, not wanting to roll out bedrolls in the mist and wake soaked?
Spirits be kind. Let these dogs be insensible with pipe weed
. If the raiding party’s survivors had been celebrating their victory, Sheplar should be able to lift the bumo’s bound form over his shoulders, leaving the nomads to wake with throbbing skulls and minus their horses and prizes. It might even be worth abandoning his fine dagger impaled in the dirt of the camp, as a message that a Rodalian had stolen their precious steeds and left their pitiable throats unslit.
They’ll weep tears of shame when they spy it
.

A little way back from the main fire there was one traveller stretched out under a blanket, and Sheplar recognized the long lustrous hair of the bumo. There was a stake in the ground close to her.
Hah, they have tethered her like their precious horses, and do not care to share the warmth of their camp fire with her
. No doubt the nomads did not find the haughty Vandian girl’s constant complaints any more to their taste than Sheplar had. He crawled closer to the ground where she lay, taking his dagger out to slice the rope, and then bent over her huddled sleeping form, turning her body ready to clamp his hand over her mouth should she call out in fright. Except that her mouth had been gagged and the bumo was wide awake, her eyes stretched wide in alarm with her hands bound behind her back.

Sheplar felt the jab of the spear against his neck before he could raise his rifle. Nomads rose like wraiths from the grass around him.

‘As I dreamed for you,’ called a female Nijumet. ‘A rice eater and a forest devil.’

‘Find their horses,’ whooped the muscled young male by her side. He swivelled one of the hunched figures sitting around the fire around, a tunic and cloak stuffed with dried grass, raising the arm mockingly in salute of his two new prisoners. ‘These two won’t be worth much as thralls, one is too old and the other is as prickly as a porcupine on the spit. I’ll count their mounts and weapons as our night’s prize.’

Sheplar groaned. A witch rider, and an obviously powerful seer. Kerge might not be able to scry into the future any longer, but the raiders could. And the witch had delivered them to her prancing savages like a gift.

Duncan found Princess Helrena alone in her chambers on the great warship, no guards, no Paetro. She appeared in a pensive mood, pacing along a series of portholes, the view over Arcadia’s distant sprawl across the hills little distraction to whatever really occupied her attention.

‘You have talked with your father?’ asked the princess as she noticed his presence.

‘Yes,’ said Duncan, bowing. ‘I met with him again in private last night. He will ensure my sister helps us. I am to meet with him later today to hear of Willow’s … cooperation.’ There hadn’t been much joy in the exchange, but if there was one thing Duncan could always trust in, it was Benner Landor’s desire to further his house’s glory. When Willow returned from Midsburg with the emperor’s granddaughter, King Marcus would grant Duncan’s father a lot more than a noble title to half of Havenharl. Willow would have no choice. Not if she valued the new life swelling inside her belly. ‘And it seems I have a new half-brother … a babe called Asher.’

‘Congratulations to you and your family. I have many hundreds of them, thanks to the imperial harem,’ said Helrena. ‘As well as many half-sisters who would happily slip a dagger into my spine if it meant they could steal my house’s holdings.’

‘Young Asher Landor won’t have to fight me for title to Hawkland Park,’ said Duncan. ‘He can have it. My place is in Vandia.’

‘It is of your place that we must talk, Duncan. I too have been in counsel, negotiating with Prince Gyal,’ said Helrena, her words slow and serious. ‘Seeking his assurances about Lady Cassandra’s safety in the coming assault on the rebel capital.’

What did Helrena mean by
your place
? Duncan didn’t like the sound of that. ‘And were any guarantees forthcoming?’

‘At a price,’ said Helrena.

Duncan heard the apprehension in her words, his unsettled feeling swelling. ‘What has he asked for?’

‘My support in his bid for the diamond throne.’

That.
This was the moment that Duncan had always dreaded. Would Helrena choose her daughter or her ambition?
Saints, please let her choose Cassandra
. She had to. This was all for Cassandra, wasn’t it? Helrena had said as much. But Duncan knew how strongly she saw the imperial throne as her destiny. ‘Gyal would have you forswear your claim for his own?’

‘In a manner of speaking.’

Now Duncan was really worried. What had she promised her rival? ‘You can’t allow Gyal to usurp your claim. You must have heard the rumours that Gyal is actually Circae’s son.’ He reached out for Helrena’s cheek, but she pushed his hand away. ‘What is it? What has—?’

‘Prince Gyal has said that I may yet be empress. By marrying him and ruling by his side when he is emperor.’

Duncan swayed with shock at the news. He always knew this day would come – Helrena having to make a marriage match to secure some vitally important alliance – but not with Gyal.
Not so soon. How could she
? ‘This is madness. Circae loathes you. She would never allow this.’

‘Prince Gyal calculates that with his house and mine joining together, his allies plus my own, the wealth from both our holdings in the sky mines, we could gain the throne even with Circae’s opposition. In that calculation, he is likely correct. Apolleon and the hoodsmen will undoubtedly support me, and very few will wish to cross the head of the secret police. And of course, Cassandra would remain in line for the imperial throne, Circae’s own granddaughter. In time, perhaps Circae and I could overcome our animosity.’

‘Prince Gyal would keep the imperial harem,’ said Duncan, casting about for something,
anything
, to make Helrena change her mind. ‘How many other claimants to the throne would Emperor Gyal produce during your joint reign? You have but one womb to produce heirs to the throne with Gyal, and he would have every determined daughter of the emperor throwing themselves at him. How many of those houses would be content with Cassandra having precedence over
their
heirs? Cassandra would never sleep safe from an assassin’s blade again.’

‘She has never slept a night safe yet,’ said Helrena. ‘And Cassandra would have Circae scheming on her behalf, watching her back. Circae would keep her position as mistress of the harem, which is all she really desires. She would have her chosen piece occupying the throne, albeit at a price. Everyone wins. It is how the game is played.’

‘How can it be worth the price?’

‘The trajectory of my life’s course was set long ago,’ said Helrena, sadly.

‘And us?’

‘You always knew that this dalliance would have to end. Did I not warn you?’

Dalliance
. Had he mattered so very little to Helrena? ‘I see nothing good coming from an alliance with the prince.’

‘I must set you aside, Duncan. There is always one rule for an emperor and another for an empress. Gyal might tolerate his first wife seeking solace in other arms for a brief period, but he would not suffer a long-term lover walking by my side through the years. Through such understandings are plots fermented and weaknesses opened at the imperial court. I have too much care for you to allow you to be shoved off a walkway in Vandis one dark night when nobody is watching.’

‘Too much care for that to happen, but not too much to do
this
,’ said Duncan.

‘This is the way it must be. I will gain the throne and Gyal will strain every sinew to ensure that my little girl is returned safe to my house. Cassandra will be as safe as she ever will be, protected by both an emperor and empress in Vandia. And there are so many other considerations. Everyone in my house will flourish and prosper under the arrangement. You, Paetro, Doctor Horvak, the millions living in my district and across my holdings in the provinces.’

‘I don’t want money or power,’ said Duncan, choking back a sob.

‘And that is why I trust only you to look after my daughter and my life,’ said Helrena, gently. ‘And why I must set you aside from my heart. From now on, you are Duncan Landor of my house, not Duncan Landor of my bed chamber.’

‘I have given up everything for you,’ said Duncan. ‘My country, my old life, the chance to return to Weyland.’

‘You are a citizen of the imperium,’ said Helrena. ‘There is nothing grander in all of Pellas.’

‘I love you,’ said Duncan, his heart breaking.

‘And when I am empress you and the whole empire will love me,’ said Helrena. ‘There is so much I have yet to do. There are things you know nothing of, that I must keep to myself, battles yet to be fought—’

‘You are talking of Apolleon’s schemes?’

Helrena nodded. ‘I am.’

‘To hell with him. Nothing can be worth this.’


Everything
is worth this. You have to trust me, Duncan. I must take the throne, whatever the cost.’

‘So, I am to trust you, but never to love you.’

Helrena kissed him; a sad, lingering thing, and somehow Duncan knew it was the last time he was to feel her lips against his. ‘Love me if you will, but take care never to show it in public. If you do not feel you can do it, then stay here in Weyland when the fleet flies home. It will be safer for all of us.’

Duncan didn’t know what to say. He had been holding on to Helrena for so long, even knowing this day would arrive.
But never so quickly
.

‘Do not think I am suggesting you leave my service for convenience’s sake. I still have great need of you,’ said Helrena. ‘Now and later. As will Cassandra. As you point out, when we return to Vandia, the need to have eyes in the back of my head will increase not lessen. There will be threats everywhere in the last months to claim the diamond throne. Those who have set their sights on the throne for their own houses will be desperate to break my alliance with Gyal, and they will come at me twice as hard when they see how close we are to taking the empire. Will you stay with my house, give me your loyalty?’

BOOK: Foul Tide's Turning
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