The Red Queen (100 page)

Above the stone people, the sky was red and I realised it was dusk. There was no chance of me getting out of the gate now – I would have to go over the wall. That prospect troubled me because, why would there be a wall if it was not terribly high and people could climb over it easily.

A man passed between the statues and me carrying a lantern and I gasped aloud to see the carved faces clearly, for they were perfectly made, and more than that,
they were Cassandra’s work
.

I saw, too, that in the midst of the stone people were two men with wolf’s heads. No one was paying the strange statues the slightest attention, but my heart had begun to pound, for what if these were the message I was meant to find in Redport? Shivering a little now, with a mixture of apprehension and excitement, I moved closer. There was a raw quality to these shapes that reminded me of the glass statue we had found at the bottom of the Reichler Clinic Reception Centre in Newrome under Tor, as if these stone forms had been made at the same time, though of course hundreds of years had passed between the making of the glass statue in the Beforetime, and the making of these, which must have happened when Cassy had come to Redport with Hannah and the Beforetime Misfits, but from Cassy’s point of view, it must have seemed that only a year or so had passed.

I moved about them looking for words, but there were none, nor could I see any place a message might be concealed, but it might be easier to see in the daylight. I would have to acquire a lantern and take a closer look. Staring at the last statue, I was startled to realise that, unlike the rest, it was had been carved with wings. Then I looked at its face and realised that it differed from the face of the one in front. I examined all of the faces and found that, although the bodies were the same, the faces differed. The first in the row wore an expression of haggard hatred, while the second looked harried and desolate. The next was apprehensive and weary, and the following one, exhausted and sorrowful. The second to last was sad but contemplative. All of the statues to this point looked down, but the last had been carved with its face turned to the sky, and it was beautiful because it was full of hope and yearning. It reminded me a little of the face of one of the statues of the young woman that Cassy had carved at Stonehill, her face full of longing.

Had the name of the central infinity in Slavetown given Cassy the idea for the final statue, or had the name been taken from it? The latter seemed more likely, given how long ago Cassy had been in Redport, but how had these figures survived the fall of the plain? Unless the settlement had been built on land that had not fallen.

I thought of my dream of Cassy and the woman Sukarni, and wondered if it had been Cassy’s idea to come to Redport, rather than Hannah’s. Slavetown might have originally been the place where the Beforetime Misfits lived, which would explain the age of the buildings.

‘They are very fine, aren’t they?’ asked a childish voice.

I turned to see a young girl sitting on the edge of a stone bench looking at me, a bun in each hand. She appeared to be Landborn. She had been eating one of the buns and I saw that there was some sort of filling in the centre spilling down her wrist. The smell was delicious and my stomach rumbled.

‘Would you like one?’ she asked, holding the uneaten one out to me.

‘I’d love one, but aren’t you hungry?’ I asked, touched by her generosity to a stranger.

‘I was supposed to give it to Hil but he ran off with his stupid friends and I’m sick of holding it. Have it,’ she urged.

I accepted the bun with gratitude and asked if I might sit on the bench with her. She shifted along to make space for me, beaming, and I bit into the bun with some trepidation. It was more like a dumpling than bread and it was filled with a spiced paste, but to my relief, it was not as fiery as the food I had been given at Nareem’s house. Nevertheless I huffed a little as the spice bit me, and my eyes began to water.

‘You’re new,’ the girl said. It was a statement, and I could see how my reaction to the food would mark me a stranger.

‘The food is very spicy,’ I said, wiping my eyes.

‘My mam said it near kilt her when she first came. She was only my age when she was took by the Raider. Imagine it! I’d die. Was it bad for you?’

‘It is a long and hard way,’ I said truthfully. ‘Your mam was taken from the Westland?’

‘From the west coast of the Land, yes,’ she said, using the old form, which suggested her mother had come to Redport before the rebels had taken the west coast. ‘What about you?’

‘I was born in the upper lowlands. A place called Rangorn.’

‘Did you come on the
Black Ship
?’ Her eyes were wide, fear in them. When I did not answer at once, she nodded. ‘My mam don’t like talking about it either. She says the Raider is a devil who can change shape.’

That startled me, but I had finished the bun and was wishing for water to cool my mouth. As if reading my thoughts, the girl offered a pottery jug that she had sitting by her on the paving stones. I accepted it and drank, then the girl did the same.

‘I’m Sheena. Do you know where you are to stay yet?’

‘My name is Elspeth and I am seeking a friend,’ I said. ‘A Landman called Matthew who was brought here when he was not much older than you. He is a man now, though, and lately I am told he works at Quarry.’

She frowned. ‘No slave works at Quarry, unless . . . Does he serve one of the Gadfian warriors who train the men for the army? My da was took to Quarry.’ Her eyes were suddenly sad.

‘He is part of the emissary’s army?’ I asked.

‘They earmarked him only last year. Mam thought maybe the Gadfians would let him go when it was sure they could not get the number promised, but now Hil says all of the warrior slaves are to be took away to the land of the white-faced lords, even though they are too few to fight the emperor’s war.’

Her eyes drifted back to the statues and she sighed. ‘I like to come and look at them in the daytime, when I can see their faces. I like the last one best. He looks nice. I wish I had wings. I’d fly and see my da. Rose says there never were any winged people even in the Beforetime but she doesn’t know everything even if she thinks she does.’ She looked at me searchingly, her face reflecting the tremulous hope of the winged statue. ‘The statues are very old. Some say they were made in the Beforetime. That means the person who made them lived before all of the animals and people from then died. Maybe he knew a person who had wings and so he made the shape of him. Do you think it could be so?’

‘I think the world is full of strange and wonderful things that most people never see. There are great sandcats in Sador with black stripes like swords across their backs, and kamuli beasts as well. There are bears and wolves and mice and who knows what else. Is Rose your sister?’

Sheena beamed at me approvingly, then she scowled and said, ‘Roselle is my sister and Hilain is my brother. They are twins and both of them are horrid.’

I hid a smile and said gravely that I was sure they would get better as they grew older. She asked eagerly if I had any brothers or sisters. I do not know what she saw in my face, but her own expression sobered. ‘I’m sorry if I made you remember something sad. Mam said it’s better to forget what is left behind or took from you. There’s no point yearning after what you can’t have.’

‘Your mam sounds wise, but isn’t hope a kind of yearning after what you don’t have, and who would want to live without hope?’

Sheena’s face lit up again. ‘My friend’s name is Hope just like the infinity. She’s a Redlander and her da says that’s her name because his hope was born when she was. She’s lucky because he is a cripple and they didn’t earmark him because the emperor only wants whole and healthy warriors. Mam says we’re lucky because he is the only decent bonesetter in Slavetown. Hil is so stupid, he said he can’t wait to be old enough to be earmarked. Mam boxed his ears when she heard him and said he must never talk that way but he still does, only not when she can hear.’

She frowned. ‘I miss her but her mam won’t let her come out ever since her sister was took.’

I stared at her. ‘Sheena, was Hope’s sister taken by the Ekoni to give to the emissary of the white-faced lord?’

She sighed and nodded. ‘Yes. I have been trying not to think about it because it is very sad. Mam says he might not choose her, but she is very beautiful. I think she will be took.’

I reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder and dipped into her mind to learn the location of her friend’s house, which I was startled to find was beside the house inhabited by one of a council of men and women who served as authorities in Slavetown. Sheena’s mind told me that Councillor Deenak was one such, but that her mother disliked and mistrusted him. However, she liked Councillor Telluride.

Sheena looked at me. ‘Do you want to go and see Hope’s da? Maybe he will let you have the chamber where Hope’s sister slept.’

I said gently that it might be a bit soon to ask about the bed, but that I would be glad to have an introduction to Hope and her father and mother – maybe they would know my friend.

‘Her mam is a very cross and bad-tempered person,’ Sheena said disapprovingly, then her face brightened. ‘I will take you to see her da. He has a healing chamber in the building next door. That’s where Councillor Telluride lives. He’s nice too.’

By the time we reached the building of Councillor Telluride, Sheena was asking me about snow, which her mother had spoken of seeing only once in a particularly bitter winter when she had been taken to Sutrium.

‘Hope doesn’t believe there is any such thing,’ she said, unconsciously mimicking her friend’s lofty scorn.

Enjoying her vivid and open-hearted company, I found myself describing the mountains in winter as she led me deeper into a snaking lane. Before I knew it, I was describing Obernewtyn. Shocked where my mouth had led me, I stopped abruptly, yet there was no reason why I should not speak of it.

‘Oh do go on,’ Sheena begged. ‘It sounds just like one of my da’s stories. But how did the slavers get you all the way up in the white mountains?’

‘I left the mountains,’ I said.

Sheena shook her head. ‘That always happens in stories, too. The person leaves home never knowing how they loved it until they can’t get there no matter how they try. My mam says you never love what you have enough until it’s took.’

‘It can seem that way, truly,’ I said. Unbidden ,Rushton’s face came to me and for a moment I could see nothing for tears.

‘It’s not so bad here so long as you have a good master,’ Sheena said kindly. She stopped before a yellow door in a narrow building. ‘This is where Hope’s da has his healing chamber.’ Before I could say a word, she knocked loudly at the door and it was opened a moment later by the biggest man I had ever seen. His skin was as golden yellow as the big simple healer Okan whom Kella had brought with her to Obernewtyn the last time I had seen her, but he had the long graceful narrow eyes of a Redlander.

‘Little Sheena,’ he said solemnly.

‘Big Harym,’ Sheena said in the same tone and they both burst out laughing. But the big man immediately covered his mouth with one enormous hand, shaking his head.

‘No no! Mustn’t laughing,’ Harym said. ‘Very sadness.’

Sheena sighed. ‘I know. Is Hope’s da in? I have a newcomer for him. She is looking for her friend.’

‘He is tending a sickliness,’ he said. He peered at me as if he was looking at me through a mist, and I wondered if there was something wrong with his eyes.

Sheena said, ‘Harym helps Councillor Telluride.’

‘I helping,’ Harym repeated. His tone was friendly for Sheena’s sake, I thought, but there was reserve in his voice when he asked who my master was. For all his strange broken way of speaking, his expression was intelligent and very alert.

I had expected such a question and I told him that my master was Nareem the maker of clothes for the Chafiri. ‘Is Councillor Telluride home?’ I asked politely. ‘Perhaps he might know my friend.’

‘Likely he is gone,’ Harym said. I did not understand his meaning, and I was about to move forward and try to make contact when Sheena took hold of my hand and said she would take me to her mother and Harym could come and fetch me when Hope’s da was free, or when Councillor Telluride came back.

‘Harym will fetch,’ the big man said.

I thanked him and he nodded, giving me the same odd, half-squinting look he had given me before, and then he shut the door. Sheena tugged at my hand, saying her building was just around the corner and I must come and meet her mam. There was no stopping her from leading me to her mother, save wrenching my hand from hers, and I had not the heart for it. Her building had a red door, and she turned the handle and stepped in, drawing me after her. There were steps and she led me up them. It transpired that her building had a terrace which she presented proudly, adding that Hope envied her for it because it was almost as good as the roof terrace of a compound house.

‘It’s not a proper roof terrace though,’ she added, lighting a small, square metal lantern. As the light flowed out from its sides, I was surprised and delighted to see the terrace was thick with plants. Sheena told me that many of them belonged to Hope’s father, who used them in his medicaments and healing potions. In return for tending them, it transpired that he supplied Sheena’s mother with various things that her bondmate had once supplied. Clearly this was an arrangement that had been intended to help a woman deprived of her bondmate, for there could be no hardship in having a terrace filled with growing things.

Suddenly a plump young Landwoman appeared at the top of the steps carrying a baby in her arms. She had a mass of gauzy golden hair barely restrained by an unravelling plait and the boy’s hair was a fluff of the same yellow in the fading light of dusk. Given Sheena’s dark hair, I supposed this to be someone else who lived in the building, but Sheena said. ‘Mam, this is my friend, Elspeth!’

The woman regarded me wearily. ‘I am Syssam,’ she said, her tone weary.

‘I am sorry to barge in on you,’ I said, marvelling that a woman so young had borne four children when so few women managed to carry one child to term. But I only said, ‘Your Sheena kindly offered me a place to wait for Councillor Telluride.’

The woman’s gaze shifted to the girl and there was a mixture of fondness and exasperation in it. ‘Sweet-hearted but not much for thinking, like her poor da.’

‘Ma!’ Sheena groaned.

‘Take Licky and find Solange. Tell her I’ve fed him. And where is Hil?’

‘He ran off,’ Sheena said, taking the child from her mother. She shot a glance at me, and said, ‘I’ll come back soon,’ then to her mother, pleadingly, ‘Ma she lived in the
mountains
in the Land!’

After she had gone, her mother and I regarded one another seriously. ‘The mountains, is it?’ she asked at last, in a voice that was reserved rather than unfriendly.

‘I have just arrived in Redport and I am actually looking for a friend. I am hoping Councillor Telluride or the healer might know him.’

She took up a container with a long spout and tilted it to trickle water onto the base of a small bush. ‘Where in the mountains?’

I hesitated but saw no reason to lie. ‘Obernewtyn.’

She gave me a frowning look but made no comment other than to invite me to sit on a stone bench by the wall. She got a mug, filled it, then offered it to me, asking me who my master was. I took the mug politely, though I was not thirsty, saying I belonged to a tailor called Nareem. I was beginning to regret allowing Sheena to bring me to her home, for although the level of my knowledge had grown since entering Redport, I still had no clear idea of how one went from being a slave transported to Redport, to getting an owner, and it would look odd if I was evasive. On the other hand since we were alone, it would be simple enough to make contact and coerce the woman if I made a bad slip. Yet she asked no more questions; indeed, she said nothing.

‘Sheena said you came here on the
Black Ship
,’ I said, when the silence was beginning to weigh heavy.

Her face darkened and she watered a whole row of plants in a long pot before turning to answer, her expression bleak. ‘I was sold to the Raider by Councillor Kana after soldierguards picked me up in a sweep of a tavern where I was working. I was put into prison though I had done nothing, but instead of summoning my parents to pay my so-called fine, I was marched out in the middle of the night to the shore and led aboard the
Black Ship
.’

‘Injustice was common in the Land in those days.’

‘No longer, say those who have come in the last few years,’ she said, her tone sceptical. ‘I guess from your words that you are such a one. What of you?’

‘I do not wish to speak of my journey here,’ I said, remembering what Sheena had said of her mother.

For the first time Syssam looked grudgingly sympathetic. ‘It was a long while before I could stomach talking of it. But after I got here things were not so bad. Sheena’s da asked me to move in with him. He had twins from his wife. She had given birth to them and died in the process on her way here. I took the children and then Sheena came.’

‘The baby is not yours?’

She smiled faintly. ‘Licky looks more like me than Sheena does, but he is the son of my friend Solange. I mind him during the day when she goes to work for her mistress on the other side of Redport.’

There was another silence and I finished my mug of water and rose with sudden decision. ‘Thank you for letting me sit here. It is very pleasant as Sheena promised. Will you thank her for me and say goodbye?’

‘I will,’ she said, frowning a little. ‘I am sorry if I do not seem very welcoming but there is trouble brewing in Slavetown and beyond, and the Ekoni are unusually ferocious because of it. A lot of people have been taken away in the last few days because the Chafiri fear the Landfolk in Slavetown will rise when the emissary tries to take away the trained warriors at Quarry, even though they are not the promised number. There is fear and anger among our people, true, but there are too few of us here capable of resisting.’

‘The Redlanders will not fight?’ I said.

She gave me a jaded look. ‘The Redlanders will not fight for themselves, why should they fight for our people?’

‘They wait for their queen to come,’ I said, more to myself than her, truly, but she gave me a cold, curious look.

‘You know a lot for one who is just arrived.’

Gretha had said the same, but I gave Syssam a direct look. ‘Some of the Redlanders I have met say that their queen is coming and that her people only wait for that, before they will rise up and overthrow the slavemasters.’

She gave a bleak laugh. ‘They have been talking about the return of their dead queen forever, and they will be talking about it still when I am dead and dust.’ She gestured to the plants. ‘The healer for whom I tend these was the best friend of my man, but he stood and watched the day Efred was earmarked. He wept but he did not raise a hand to defend him.’

‘He would have been killed,’ I said. ‘Both of them, maybe.’

‘Yes,’ the woman said, ‘but maybe there are worse things than being dead. Failing a daughter, for instance.’

I saw that there was nothing I could say to salve her bitterness, and in truth, I might have felt the same. ‘Sometimes it takes courage to play a long game,’ I said.

She stared at me, looking genuinely startled. ‘How funny, that is what my man said before they took him away, leaving me with three children to raise.’

‘I am sorry,’ I said. ‘I hope that things will not always be so hard for you.’

She sighed and all of the rage and anger and disappointment seemed to flow away from her, becoming the numb weariness I had first seen in her face. ‘My man will be taken away to fight in a war that is nothing to do with him and I will never see him again. Yet I have a master who permits me to do his weaving at night here in my chamber, so I can tend my children and earn some barter marks for looking after the babies of others who are less fortunate. And I have what I earn for growing the healer’s plants. I am grateful for that.’

There was nothing to say to this, and I thanked her again and left.

In the dark lane outside, I decided to go and knock again at the yellow door Sheena had brought me to earlier. Perhaps the healer had returned and would speak with me. I would ask about Matthew and then find some way to make physical contact and see what I could learn about his daughter. She must be one of the young women I had dreamed of, waiting with Gilaine to be presented to the emissary from Shambala, and surely he would have used whatever power he had to know where she was and what was happening to her, even if he had not protested her taking. I would decide whether to speak of Dragon to him, depending on what I found in his mind.

I had prepared myself to face Harym, but this time when I knocked, an older man with neatly combed grey hair looked out.

‘Are you the healer?’ I asked.

‘He is out tending a patient with his helper. It is something urgent?’ the older man asked courteously.

‘Are you . . . Councillor Telluride?’ He frowned slightly but before he could speak, a girl appeared at the door. She was a little older than Sheena and had a pinched face and red eyes. Impulsively, I asked if she was Hope. She looked surprised and then suspicious, as did the older man.

‘I am sorry,’ I said. ‘I should explain that I was here earlier with Sheena. She mentioned her friend Hope and you, Councillor Telluride, as well as the healer. The big man . . .’

‘Harym,’ Hope said. ‘But Colum is not Councillor Telluride. He is a Redlander . . .’

‘My name is Colum,’ said the old man. ‘My father was a Redlander but my mother was half Redlander and half Landwoman. Maybe I can help you.’

‘I am not long arrived in Redport and I am seeking an old friend. Matthew . . .’ I remembered that Nareem’s women had known Matthew by another name. ‘I am told he is known here as Mad Matthias.’

The older man nodded at once. ‘Yes. I know of him, of course, but he has disappeared. It may be that he was among those taken by the Ekoni yesterday or today. He
is
wholly a Landman by his blood and face, for all his heart is red.’

‘Where would he have been taken?’ I asked, trying to make sense of this.

‘
If
he was taken, and it might not be so for he often sleeps in the house of his master if they return after the curfew is tolled, it would depend if the taking was routine or ordered by one of the Chafiri,’ the older man said.