The Moonshawl: A Wraeththu Mythos Novel (26 page)

Your concerns about Mossamber har Whitemane will
be addressed, but if I am to step in and take your side in these negotiations,
you must be willing to compromise. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that
Mossamber and his hara were instrumental in securing this area for us, and for
that alone they deserve compensation and the granting of their own desires for
the future. While my fellow commanders and I feel that the Wyvachi are the best
candidates to lead in the Gwyllion area, this must be with the co-operation of
the Whitemanes and their inclusion in plans and decisions for the community.
The only object of importance is the development of Wraeththu in Alba Sulh.
Personal issues must be put aside.

I will call on you next week for further
discussions. My aide will send you a message as to the exact day and time.
Please invite Mossamber and his highest-ranking hara to join us. I think this
would mean a lot coming from you, rather than me, and will perhaps do something
to calm the troubled waters between you. Give Mossamber his due, Kinnard. Don’t
let pride stand in your way.

In blood

Malakess har Sulh

First Commander of the West

Well, I could certainly hear Malakess’s voice in
that letter. It had to be the same har. I smiled, wondering if he’d ever been a
fierce young thing. Somehow I found it difficult to imagine, but no doubt hara
thought the same about me and many others like me. We had glossed our histories
with a thick pigment of respectability, and whatever Malakess might have lived
through, as he’d fought to establish Wraeththu in this area, in his letter it
was plain he had already been striving to be something other than a wild
warrior. He’d wanted to be a politician, not a tribal chief.

There were other letters and documents detailing
arrangements for various hara in the area concerning the allocation of land and
similar matters, none of which had much to interest me. But then came a missive
decidedly more appetising.

Dear Kinnard

I cannot, in all conscience, involve myself in the personal matter upon
which you requested my jurisdiction. While I appreciate that you and several
members of your erstwhile human family comprise the leadership of your phyle, I
must remind you that human ties have no bearing on your situation now. Medoc is
your fellow har, as are those who were previously your cousins. You are all part
of one family –Wraeththu. And this includes the Whitemanes.

The circumstances you described to me are
essentially the province of Mossamber har Whitemane. He was Peredur’s chesnari,
and as such is responsible for making decisions that Peredur is no longer able
to make. That is all I have to say on the matter, and pray that you will put
history aside and respect the wishes of your fellow hara as they are now.

You have my condolences, and I understand that
your abrupt letter to me reflected the pain you feel, but nevertheless I feel
strongly that this matter is outside my area of authority.

In blood

Malakess Har Sulh

First Commander of the West

I read this letter out to Rinawne.

He grimaced. ‘They wanted
Peredur back, didn’t they?’ he said. ‘That’s what the letter says to me.
Remember what you heard Medoc say to Wyva at Cuttingtide.
Mossamber thought
he was liberating a corpse.
’

Since the festival, I’d told
Rinawne everything I’d heard during that conversation. ‘There’s also another
implication in those words,’ I said, ‘namely that Peredur wasn’t dead when
Mossamber
liberated
him... whatever that means. But from what I heard at
Cuttingtide, the Wyvachi and the Wyverns are sure Peredur didn’t survive, but
perhaps he died later from his injuries.’

 
‘So maybe Kinnard asked
this Malakess to intervene because Mossamber refused to give up the...
remains.’

I nodded. ‘It could be read that
way, yes.’

Rinawne gave me a curious look.
‘Could this be why Peredur is not at rest?’

‘And that all we need to do is
bring him back to the Mynd for reburial?’ I grimaced. ‘Seems too simple. Plus
his body might have been cremated.’

Rinawne pantomimed a shudder.
‘Or it could be preserved at Deerlip Hall, forever enshrined – a dried out mummy.
All the Whitemanes worship it.’

‘Thank you for that image,’ I
said dryly.

‘I think it’s entirely
possible,’ Rinawne said, grinning.

‘
Maybe
you’re on the
right track. Wyva said he suspected there was some kind of shrine to Peredur at
Deerlip. I thought he was speaking metaphorically, but perhaps not. It could
explain the Whitemanes’
sensitivity
over Peredur.’

Rinawne gave me a hard glance.
‘Nytethorne said something, then?’

I didn’t want to tell Rinawne
what I’d seen at the Pwll Siôl Lleuad earlier, because I sensed that revealing
I’d met Nytethorne again would bring on a dark mood. ‘Well, not in so many
words. I tried to talk about Peredur, but Nytethorne got defensive about it.
I’ve already told you the meeting I had with him was difficult.’

Rinawne sniffed in a surly
manner. ‘Read the other letters. These will be the meat of it, I’m sure. The
ones from Medoc.’

Medoc, it appeared, had tried five times to
communicate with his brother and had then given up. Or if he had continued to
try, those letters had not been preserved.

My dear brother,

Too much time has passed since we saw one another. I trust you and
your hara are in good health. I have no way of knowing, yet am certain if
anything bad had befallen you, I would’ve heard from somehar.

I had hoped you might try to contact me, but now,
after two years have passed, I realise I must be the one to make the advance.
You are in my thoughts constantly. I know you must believe I betrayed and
abandoned you, and that I seduced our cousins into leaving the Mynd with me,
but the truth is every har who came with me that day felt it was the right
thing to do. I didn’t have to persuade them. That was our decision, and we
stand by it, but I respect yours too, and appreciate why you stand by it in the
same way.

We have founded our phyle at an old domain named
Harrow’s End, some miles over the county border to the east. Things are going
well for us, if slowly, but we are content. You would be most welcome here at
any time, and even if we cannot reconcile our differences in terms of where our
hara should live, I hope at least we can mend our relationship.

To this day, I’m not sure what I really
experienced that night at the Mynd, but I knew then, and still know now, that I
cannot live in that place. I admire that you have the strength to carry on
there, despite everything that happened. I know you are right: It is our
domain, but all I questioned was the rights of the dead, as it was theirs too. 
Perhaps you don’t want to hear my excuses, as you’ll no doubt call them, but I
feel I want to explain and wish we could speak face to face. Please let me know
if we can meet, if only halfway between our domains.

In blood and in love,

Your brother, Medoc

The second letter was around four months later.

My dear brother, Kinnard,

I’m saddened you didn’t respond to my letter and apologise if
anything in it gave offence. I wish only to see you again, and to meet your
son. Summer is blooming here and I thank the spirits of the land that I live
amid such beauty and peace. Please come to visit us. We don’t even have to
speak of the past, but only of now and the future, the time for our sons. We
have gone through too much together to remain estranged.

In blood and in love,

Your brother, Medoc

The third letter indicated Medoc still hadn’t
received a response from Kinnard, but he didn’t mention this. He spoke only of
his land, of his hara, and the way his community was developing. The fourth
letter was similar. I wondered whether Kinnard, reading these letters, had
envied Medoc his peace and liberty, and for this reason couldn’t bring himself
to make contact. Perhaps he didn’t want the greater part of his family to have
escaped the malediction and to be living happily free of it elsewhere. The
fifth letter was different and was dated some seventeen years after the
previous four.

My dear Kinnard,

Forgive that I write to you again after so long, for I realise you
must have no wish to hear from me, but word has come to us of Yvainte’s
passing, and I had to contact you. Please know that my heart breaks as yours
must be broken in losing your beloved chesnari. I am so sorry that such a light
has left us under such tragic circumstances. My domain is always open to you.
Know that you can arrive here at any time of day or night and will be welcomed,
without questions being asked. Though many years have passed since we last saw
one another, in some ways it feels like only a few days ago. If you want me
now, I am here. I will always be here for you.

In blood and in love,

Your brother, Medoc

After I’d read the letter aloud, both Rinawne and I
were silent for some moments, then Rinawne said, ‘That’s so sad. I wonder what
happened?’

I sighed, shook my head. ‘Well,
whatever happened, one thing’s certain: Kinnard was stubborn as a mule.’

‘Maybe he
did
go to see
Medoc.’

‘Maybe.’

‘He kept the letters,’ Rinawne
said wistfully, picking up the last one.

‘We’ll learn more when we visit
Medoc ourselves,’ I said, gathering the documents into a neat pile.

‘You know...’ Rinawne said, ‘I
wonder whether Mossamber has kept correspondence from Malakess too. If so, they
might shed more light on the Peredur aspect.’ He glanced at me. ‘Much as I hate
to suggest this: Would Nytethorne help with that, do you think? Would he look
for you?’

I uttered a scornful laugh. ‘Has
anything I’ve said indicated Nytethorne would in any way be helpful?’

‘No, not in what you’ve
said
,’
Rinawne replied sharply. ‘I was just thinking. There’s nothing to be lost in
asking and perhaps something to gain. Maybe it’s time
I
made contact
with Nytethorne. It could be up to us pureborns to put the past to rest.’

My entire body went cold at the
thought of Rinawne blundering in, messing things up. ‘No, don’t do that,’ I
said.

He gave me a severe glance.

‘Well, not yet. It’s delicate.
Let’s talk with Medoc first.’

‘I don’t think you’re being
direct enough,’ Rinawne said, ‘you just shilly shally around with Nytethorne.
He might respond better to somehar being straight and open.’

‘I
have
been straight and
open,’ I retorted, feeling my face grow hot at the memory of throwing
Nytethorne up against a door.

Rinawne regarded me
speculatively. ‘Uh huh.’

‘Please, Rin, let’s concentrate
on Medoc for now. I don’t want a dozen cans of worms opened, emptied, and
wriggling around in a great big mess.’

He narrowed his eyes at me. ‘Do
you question my ability to be diplomatic?’

‘Quite frankly, yes,’ I said.
‘Rin, you’ve no idea how awkward Nytethorne is. He doesn’t really want to speak
to any of us at all.’

‘But can’t stop himself speaking
to you, of course. Any excuse for that.’

I put my head in my hands for a
moment. This reminded me painfully of similar arguments I’d had with Jass in
the past. ‘Please stop this. It’s nothing to do with what we need to
concentrate on.’

‘You’ve seen him more than once,
haven’t you?’

I stared at Rinawne for some
moments. I couldn’t be bothered to lie and have to try and cover it up. ‘Since
I’ve been in Gwyllion – four times. On three of those occasions, we’ve spoken
for... oh, at the most a scandalous fifteen minutes, at the least a rather tense
five minutes, during which he accused me of making things up. So, there we are.
The extent of my relationship with Nytethorne. Are you happy now?’

I wondered then whether Rey had
ever endured a similar conversation to this.

Rinawne put the letters and documents
back into his satchel, his face pinched. ‘I only asked.’

‘And I only answered. Thank you
for bringing the letters over, Rin. I think we’ve learned a lot.’

He nodded vaguely. ‘I’ll get
them back now.’

‘Yes, you’d better.’

Rinawne hooked the satchel over
his shoulder, looking down on me where I sat at the table. ‘I’m sorry,’ he
said.

I made a gesture with both hands
to indicate acceptance of the apology, but said nothing in return.

After Rinawne had left, I was in
no mood to continue working. I was furious he’d disrupted my day, even though
he’d brought the letters over. I knew with a heavy certainty I had to end the
physical aspect of my friendship with Rinawne, but I also knew this wouldn’t be
easy. The chances of him turning spiteful on me were, I thought, great. He
could ruin everything for me here. I cursed the moment I let him “have his way”
with me, to use a quaint old term. But then he’d let me believe he’d wanted
only a casual dalliance to liven up his life. Perhaps he had even meant it to
be so, at the start. I thought of Gesaril, the hara before him, the temptations
that had been offered me, which had turned out to be poisonous. I couldn’t add
Nytethorne to that pathetic list. If hara needed aruna, I needed a friend who
would be uncomplicated and undemanding and with whom I couldn’t possibly fall
in love. I realised I’d probably have been wiser to take Gen up on his far more
guarded advances. I might’ve also learned more to help me. Too late now. Here I
was in the same old mess.