Juliet E McKenna - Aldabreshin 2 - Northern Storm

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NORTHERN STORM

Juliet E. McKenna

An Orbit Book

ISBN 1 84149 167 5

Typeset in Ehrhardt by Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

Polmont, Stirlingshire

Printed and bound in Great Britain by

Mackays of Chatham pic, Chatham, Kent

Orbit

An imprint of

Time Warner Book Group UK Brettenham House

Lancaster Place London WC2E 7EN

For Ernie and Betty,

for all they do to ease my working life

and all they do to enrich our sons' lives.

CHAPTER ONE

What does this sunrise bring, beyond another day of trying to read all the faces turned to me? What

omens might there be as to whether or not I'll meet whatever challenges are set before me before sunset?

Will I fail? Who will I fail - myself or these people who never foresaw that I would become their ruler?

Idly rubbing a hand over his close-trimmed beard, he glanced from side to side to see if any portent

offered itself in any arc of the compass, firstly in the pale skies of the early morning, the clouds iridescent

as mother-of-pearl. Dropping his gaze, he studied the indigo waters broken by ruffles of foam and

mysterious swirls of lighter blue. The waters rose and fell as gently as a sleeping child's chest.

No sign of any sea serpent lurking in the channels between coral and sand. No whale rising unexpectedly

from the distant deeps further out. No detritus floating in our path as portent of good or ill. There are no

omens that I can see. The future is as bare of signs to guide me as the empty ocean.

A dutiful voice interrupted his fruitless survey.

'We're nearly there, my lord Chazen Kheda,' the helmsman announced, sitting alert on his stool on the

raised platform at the stern of the little galley. One brown hand rested on the steering oar, his dark eyes

fixed on the man standing in the prow. The ship's master kept an alert watch for reefs and skerries

beneath the waves, his dun cotton tunic and trousers flattened against his muscular body by the breeze. In

the belly of the ship, the rowers bent and hauled and sent the Yellow Serpent speeding

through the water, three men to a bench, each with his own long oar lashed to its thole-pin. With the

crew of the warlord's vessel drawn from the most practised oarsmen, they barely needed the regular

drone of the piper's flute amidships to keep their strokes even, making light of pulling the long, lithe vessel

against the wind.

'We're in good time, as always.' Kheda eased his shoulders beneath the weight of his chain-mail hauberk

and adjusted the silk scarf around his neck before raising his voice so that the rowers on the open deck

below could hear him. 'The Yellow Serpent has served me well throughout this voyage.'

As I have served this domain, I hope. But this voyage is all but over and I will have a whole new set of

challenges to meet when I return to what I suppose I must call my home now.

'Seen any omens for our day?' A man whose bald head barely topped Kheda's shoulder held out a round

brass and steel helmet with a chain-mail veil hanging down to protect the wearer's neck and shoulders.

Diamonds around the gold brow band spat defiant fire back at the strengthening sun.

'I won't want that till we land.' Kheda relished the breeze brushing his short-cropped, tightly curled hair

as he kept his eyes on the rapidly approaching drifts of foam that ringed the few scraps of sandy land in

the midst of the reefs and sandbanks. Sparkling beaches circled dense clumps of midar shrub pierced

here and there with stands of nut palms. The trees waved exuberant fronds of lush new growth, still

drawing on the water hoarded by the earth since the drenching of last year's rains.

'The final outposts of your domain, my lord Chazen Kheda, before the countless islands of the

Aldabreshin Archipelago yield to the boundless southern ocean.' The shorter man's tone was faintly

mocking.

'Not so boundless, Dev.' Kheda shot a glare at him. 'We know all too well there must be land beyond

the horizon to spawn our enemies.'

Dev affected not to see Kheda's irritation as he adjusted the broad brass-studded belt around his sturdy

waist, armour jingling softly as he shifted his bare feet on the smooth planking. His hauberk was plain,

wholly made from polished steel rings, in contrast to Kheda's which boasted a diamond pattern of brazen

links and engraved metal plates inset to protect his vitals from piercing arrows or murderous

sword-thrusts. The fine leather of the warlord's belt was invisible beneath golden plaques embossed with

intricate sprays of canthira leaves.

'Have there been omens of battle ahead, my lord?' the helmsman asked with alarm. 'Do you think some

new wave of invaders will come to support those still trapped in the western isles?'

'No.' Kheda smiled easily to calm the mariner's fears. 'There's been no such sign.'

Fool. Watch what you say. These men of Chazen haven't known and trusted you since your birth or

theirs. You cannot rely on them to read your words aright, or keep them to themselves as those of Daish

would have done.

'We will throw the last sorry remnants of those savages into the sea soon enough. Let the currents carry

their bloated corpses back to wash up and warn their kin against quitting their own shores again.' As he

continued in the same confident tone, Kheda waved one hand airily and the uncut emerald on the heavy

silver ring he wore glowed vividly in the brilliant light.

'We'll be getting back to clearing out the last of the invaders, will we, as soon as we've completed this

interminable tour of every last rock and reef?' Dev demanded abruptly.

Kheda glanced at him, face stern. 'Dev, as a barbarian,

I'll allow you more leeway than I would any true-born Archipelagan, but use that tone to me again and I

will have you flogged. Better yet, I will do it myself.'

Do you remember what I told you? That one of my father Daish Reik's precepts of leadership was never

make a threat you're not prepared to carry out? You can be sure that's no idle warning, barbarian.

He looked into Dev's dark eyes but couldn't read anything there. No matter. The barbarian looked away

first.

'My lord, if you please, where's the Mist DoveV The helmsman was still gazing resolutely over the heads

of the rowers on their serried benches towards the Yellow Serpent's burly shipmaster on the prow

platform. A flurry of foam blew up over the prow as the knife edge of the brass-sheathed ram sliced

through the waves.

'Staying well clear.' Kheda looked back astern to see the heavy trireme that had accompanied them

slowing in the more open waters, oars idling. The weapons and armour of the fighting men aboard glinted

in the sun.

And if by some mischance I have failed to note any portent of some new assault by the savages, we have

steel and hatred to use against them. But let's not tempt the future with such thoughts. There's been no

sign of any new invasion. You had better turn your attention to what awaits you here, and whatever

portents for your rule of this domain that'll be set out for all to see.

Shallow enough to negotiate the encircling corals, the light galley headed towards the largest of the scatter

of low islands. The ragged fronds of the tallest trees were stirring in the rising breeze and the channels

between the islands were thronged with little boats.

'So where exactly are the pearl beds?' Dev studied the shipmasters raising their sails, the divers busy on

deck checking the weighted ropes that would take them down

to the sea bed and the lifelines that should ensure they would survive to enjoy the fruits of their labours.

Lookouts on each boat sharpened broad-bladed shark spears and viciously barbed gaff hooks.

'They shift from year to year.' Kheda watched the youths and young girls trading their sweat and muscle

for the right to learn the skills of diver and sailor. Some were wading out to the skiffs carrying food and

water on their heads; others were stowing the stacks of baskets waiting to bring the year's greatest

bounty up from the deep.

And sometimes the pearl oysters vanish altogether. What manner of omen would that be?

The tremor that ran through Kheda had nothing to do with the surge beneath his feet as the Yellow

Serpent's rowers bent over their oars. Pearl skiffs scattered as the galley headed towards a wide beach

where a veritable village had been thrown up. Huts built from woven panels of palm fronds were roughly

thatched with bundles of coarse grass tied with tangling vines. The greenery was barely faded but Kheda

knew it wouldn't be long before the punishing sun parched roofs and walls to a yellowy brown.

Then the pearl harvest will be over and the huts will be left to the sand lizards and the sooty shrews

hunting sickle snakes and scorpions. The pearl gulls and coral fishers will plunder the roofs for their own

nests and prey on unwary shrews to feed their young. The dry season will bleach these huts to frail straw

and the rainy season's storms will rip them apart. There'll be barely a sign that there was anything here

when the last full moons of the year ahead of us will summon the divers to search the reefs for the shifting

pearl beds.

I wonder if I will be here to see next year's harvest.

The wind shifted, bringing a startling stench. 'Saedrin save me!' Dev barely reached the stern before he

lost his breakfast noisily over the rail.

Kheda exchanged a rueful grin with the helmsman,

trying to breathe as shallowly as possible. 'You always tell yourself it can't be as bad as you remember.'

And perhaps that's a sign: to concentrate on the here and now rather than indulging in idle speculations

about future paths.

'Then you realise it's worse.' The helmsman's weather-beaten brown face grimaced as he hauled on the

steering oar in response to a signal from the shipmaster.

The rowers pulled on their oars with a will, even those gagging on their own nausea. The Yellow Serpent

accelerated past the bare sandy reef that was the source of the stink. Masked with swathes of cotton

cloth, one of the few men ashore waved. Another was more concerned with throwing an old dry shell at

a gull darting down from the cloud of birds wheeling above, squawking their outrage as mats of woven

palm fronds frustrated their efforts to plunder the vast tubs the men were guarding. Emerald finches and

dusky gnatcatchers swooped unopposed, gorging on the red-eyed flies that hung around the tubs in

smoky swarms.

As the Yellow Serpent passed the reeking islet and the breeze brought clean, salt-scented air, Kheda

dipped a cup of water from a lidded barrel lashed to the light galley's rearmost signal mast. He passed it

to Dev, who was still leaning over the stern, pale beneath his coppery tan.

'You people can't just open your oysters with a sharp knife and dig out the pearls?' Dev swilled water

around his mouth and spat sourly over the rail.

'Not when we want every pearl, right down to the seed and dust pearls.' Kheda watched the water

turning from mysterious green to crystal clarity over the brilliant sands as the shipmaster skilfully guided

the vessel into the shallows. 'The only way to get those is to let maggots strip the oysters clean.'

'We're sailing west again after this?' the barbarian growled beneath his breath.

'No, back to the residence. I told you.' Kheda shot the scowling Dev a warning look, his voice low and

rapid. 'After all they've suffered in the last year, these people need the reassurance of correct observance

of every ritual. As warlord, I have to be there when the new-year stars come into alignment. It's my duty

to read the skies for the domain and give judgement on any other portent.'

'What portents do you think they will bring you? Lizards caught in bizarre places?' Dev mocked. 'Or

patterns imagined in a pot of beans?'

'Just keep your mouth shut on your ignorance.' Kheda didn't hide his contempt.

'Some new year it'll be, without so much as a sniff of liquor,' Dev muttered, sipping at his water with

distaste. 'What then?'

'We'll see.' Kheda smiled thinly. 'In the omens of the heavenly and the earthly compasses.'

He left Dev and went to stand beside the helmsman's chair. The rowers had slowed, listening for the

shipmaster's shouts of command and the piper's signals. Some glanced up at the stern platform with

discreet curiosity. Kheda kept his face impassive as he made a covert survey of the crew's bearded

faces.

They're as curious as everyone else to see what kind of pearl harvest will mark the turn of my first year as

unexpected lord of this Chazen domain. And I can see a measure of private anticipation, naturally, in their

hopes that serving the warlord in person will win them some share in the bounty.

What can they see in you? Very little, hopefully. 'Show no more emotion than a statue of the finest

marble' that's what your father used to say. Because people looking at a statue see in it what they want to

see more often than not.

to see my rule sanctioned by the best possible omens?

'I've brought swords and archers to keep your harvest safe,' Kheda called out to the pearl skiffs. 'Carry

water to my ships to refill their barrels, if you please.'

Leaving behind a robust chorus of earnest assurances, the rowing boat soon reached the shallows. The

boatman shipped his oars and jumped lithely over the side, grabbing for the bow rope to begin hauling

the boat up on to the drier sand.

'This will do.' Kheda raised a hand, inclining his head courteously to the boatman as he got out. 'Make

yourself known to my slave before we leave.' The cool ruffles of surf around his shins were refreshing

after the sun-baked wood of the galley's deck beneath his bare feet. 'Remember that boatman and give

him a few pearls,' he said quietly to Dev as they walked up the beach.

'Naturally, my lord,' murmured Dev with a touch of sarcasm. 'A memory for faces is essential in my

proper trade.'

Kheda's spine stiffened despite himself. Before he could find a reprimand for the barbarian,, a handful of

men advanced down the beach towards them, leaving more waiting in a respectful half-circle where the

white coral sands gave way to dusty soil and sparse coils of parched, grey midar stems. Dev had been

walking a pace behind Kheda on his open side, one hand resting lightly on the twin hilts thrust through his

double-looped sword belt. As the islanders approached, the barbarian moved swiftly to stand between

the warlord and these newcomers, stony faced, until Kheda gave him the nod to stand aside, his smile

one of nicely calculated superiority.

You can feign this much of a true body slave's duties at least.

The leader of the delegation bowed low. The bold yellow cloth of his simply cut cotton tunic and trousers

was rich with embroidery mimicking turtleshell. He had a darker complexion than his companions and the

more tightly curled hair of a hill-dweller, showing that blood from some larger domain had mingled with

his more local ancestry. 'My lord Chazen Kheda.'

'Borha.' Kheda smiled widely to conceal how much that new title still grated on his ears.

Get used to it, fool. You're not Daish Kheda, nor ever will be again.

'I see you've brought plenty of strong arms to reap the pearl harvest,' Kheda continued smoothly.

'We left plenty of men to continue our rebuilding.' The man beamed with pleasure at being recognised but

fingered a white crab-shell talisman on a cord around his neck, betraying an unconscious anxiety.

'I know - we've just come from Salgaru. Your village is certainly prospering, and all the others besides.'

Kheda widened his smile and looked beyond Borha to include all the waiting men in his approval.

One of the others spoke up. 'Will you take some refreshment while we wait for our fishermen to return,

my lord?'

'Thank you.' Kheda walked on up the beach and the islanders moved to either side, giving Dev a

respectful distance. A few had darker skin and curly hair like Borha. More had the rich brown

complexion and straighter hair prevalent in these southerly reaches. All wore crisp new cottons in reds,

blues and yellows decorated with skilful embroidery. Some bore vivid butterflies across their shoulders or

patterns echoing any one of the myriad bright birds that graced the bigger islands. Other decorations

recalled the intricate traceries of thorn coral or the spirals of seashells. A couple wore bracelets of

twisted silver wire and one boasted a chain of gold lozenge links around his neck. Most wore more

simple talismans — a plaited wristband of the silky fibres from a tandra seed pod or a string

of polished ironwood beads. All the men wore daggers at their hips, but Kheda and Dev were the only

ones with swords.

They're all so careful to match my pace exactly, with the same diffidence I've seen throughout this voyage

around the domain. They bow and simper and answer all my questions, barely asking any of their own.

This is obviously how they treated Chazen Saril. But Saril's dead and gone. These people must learn how

different a ruler I am.

Kheda headed for a temporary pavilion set up among the palm huts. Polished berale wood supported

azure cotton embroidered with fan-shaped midar leaves shading a bank of plump indigo cushions.

Hopeful maidens in simple silk dresses of yellow and white that flattered the warm bronze of their bare

arms and faces stood holding beaten brass plates laden with dainties. Idling uncon-vincingly among the

crude huts, men and women clad in sober unbleached cotton eyed the spectacle.

'Please, join me.' Kheda swept a hand around to include all the spokesmen in his invitation.

Dev was already moving to take a tray of goblets from a girl who had found time to weave crimson

striol-vine flowers into her glossy black curls. He surprised her into a giggle with a mischievous wink

before offering the salver deftly to Kheda, eyes dutifully downcast.

'Admire if you want but lay a finger on any of them -' Kheda raised the goblet to hide his lips '- and I'll

cut it off.'

'Naturally, my lord.' Dev's answering murmur dripped with sarcasm.

Kheda sipped velvety sard-berry juice, its richness quenching his thirst as the heady scent cleansed the

lurking memory of the rotting oysters.

'My lord Chazen Kheda.' Another of the islanders' spokesmen addressed him, stumbling over his words.

Kheda searched his memory for the stained yellow talisman the man wore on a leather thong: a tooth

from some piebald whale either taken by a valiant ancestor or washed up on these shores as a sign to

bemuse anyone other than a seer or a warlord. 'Isei, isn't it?'

Tell me, why is your fist so tight around the stem of that goblet that your knuckles are white?

'You come dressed for war, my lord.' Isei cleared his throat. 'I was wondering how the western isles

fare. Are the invaders finally defeated?'

Some of the other spokesmen edged away to dissociate themselves from such boldness and a few closed

their eyes, helplessly struggling to hide their expressions of pain.

Do you think I would disapprove of such a question? That I don't have my own unwelcome memories of

the destruction that swept across your islands not even a year ago?

'I was taught to always travel armoured.' Kheda shrugged.

Taught by my father, Daish Reik, warlord of the stronger, richer Daish domain to your north, a man to be

treated with all due respect lest he make your lives intolerable by closing the seaways to you. Who would

ever have foreseen that his son would become your warlord? Not Daish Reik. Not me, that's for sure,

when I was Daish Kheda. Not Chazen Saril. But then none of us foresaw the invasion of Chazen by

brutal savages from some unknown land beyond the southern horizon.

He looked slowly around the circle of intent faces. 'As for the invaders, we wrought your vengeance with

the death of nearly all of them in that first sustained assault, with Daish lending their swordsmen and ships

and warriors from Ritsem and Redigal domains coming to our aid as well. The last sorry remnant

disappeared into the thickets of our most remote southern and western islets. We continue to hunt them

down, making sure we have cleared each island entirely before we move on to the next.

But we are being cautious, yes. I don't intend to spend a single Chazen life for the sake of a hundred

savages, not if I can help it.'

Kheda paused and drank from his goblet, noting one of the spokesmen pressing the back of a

burn-scarred hand to his tight-shut eyes.

He hardened his voice. 'Their savage wizards are all dead, so they cannot visit the foul evils of their magic

on us ever again. They have no ships, so they cannot escape. Our triremes keep vigil along the seaways

and crush any of their log boats trying to put to sea. Few of the islands they hold have water year round.

They'll be as thirsty as these reefs before much longer into the dry season.'

He gestured at the temporarily flourishing greenery beyond the pavilion before startling the assembled

spokesmen with sudden entreaty. 'Leave me and the warriors of Chazen to serve the domain in fighting

these vermin. Let us take your vengeance on a people so debased they brought magic to fight their

battles for them. Your strong arms and backs are better used in rebuilding your homes and your boats, in

restoring your vegetable gardens and grain plots, in recapturing your house fowls. Then, when we have

put the last invader to his richly deserved death, you will be ready to help restore those islands in their

turn.'

'You don't fear that the presence of such vile savages will have corrupted those islands beyond

cleansing?' Isei's free hand strayed to the hilt of the dagger at his plaited-leather belt.

Crescent-moon Chazen dagger like the one I wear now, not the smoother curve of a Daish blade like the

one my father gave me.

Kheda looked him straight in the eye. 'Not after every trace of their foul presence has been burned to ash

and scattered to the seas and the winds.'

For retribution as well as purification, for the sake of all those innocents they slaughtered and all the

villages they burned in their accursed rampage.

'My lord, something to eat?' Borha broke the tense silence with a snap of his fingers at the waiting

maidens. One immediately proffered candied lilla fruit slices set on cakes of steamed sailer grain glistening

with honey.

'Thank you, no.' Kheda smiled to mitigate the rebuff. 'Passing by the oyster vats has left me without an

appetite. Tell me, are the divers correct? Are we going to see a good harvest of pearls for the Chazen

domain?'

'It's early days yet, my lord, but yes, I think it will be a truly splendid year.' Borha's smile was wide and

ingratiating.

'Let's go and see for ourselves.' Kheda abandoned the pavilion and strode towards the crude awnings

sheltering those sifting through the pearls already won from the close-mouthed oysters. The assembled

spokesmen hurried after him, other islanders trailing after.

Let's keep you all looking to the future and let's hope it's a favourable one. Let's not remember the

invaders who brought chaos and death last year. Let's not recall the calamity or your erstwhile lord

Chazen Saril dead in exile from his birthright. Let's not wonder how rumours of my own death turned out

to be falsehood or contemplate those events that set me over you as your new ruler. Let's not ponder just

why it proved impossible for me to return to my home and my family and the Daish domain I was born to

rule.

Borha drew level with Kheda's elbow. 'We filled the vats within a few days of starting to dive. They were

already rotted down enough to be emptied yesterday. We've had a fine haul of pearls and there are

plenty of shells warranting a closer look.' He gestured to the baskets of dark mottled ovals in the midst of

a gang of old men sitting cross-legged on a stretch of faded, sandy carpet.

'My lord.' One acknowledged Kheda with easy self-assurance. His hair and beard were white in stark

contrast to skin as wrinkled and dark as a sun-dried berry. Unhurried, he studied the empty oyster shell,

fine-bladed knife hovering around a sizeable blister marring the iridescent nacre that so closely mimicked

the pearls it bore.

Kheda found he was holding his breath as the old man scored a fine line around the bulbous swelling.

A trivial omen, but an omen nevertheless. Will he find a pearl? Or will this be one of those pockets of

stinking black slime?

The old man eased the sharp steel into the nacre and the swelling burst to leave a perfect milky sphere

rolling in the hollow of the shell. 'Should clean up well enough.' Putting the pearl carefully in a cotton-lined

box, he took another shell from the basket and contemplated a cyst of three half-moon pearls clinging

stubbornly to one edge.

'You're polishing them here?' Kheda moved on towards an awning shading men and women gently

scouring impurities from gleaming pearls held in scraps of soft deer hide, their forearms shimmering with

pearl dust.

'And drilling them, my lord.' Borha bowed obsequiously, simultaneously indicating a tent some way

beyond where the most skilled craftsmen were studying pearls through handheld lenses or marking them

precisely with callipers tipped with lampblack.

As Kheda approached, he observed that one man had already drilled a large silvery pearl from one side

and was plucking it from the moist scrap of leather holding it in a notch in the wooden block gripped

between his knees. Deftly reversing it, he set the needle-fine tip of his drill on the sooty pinpoint he had

made earlier and cupped the upper end of his drill rod in a discarded oyster shell. As he worked the bow

back and forth, slowly at first and then

more swiftly, the string whirled the steel-tipped drill around.

'Ever seen this done, Dev?' Kheda asked.

'No.' The barbarian grinned with open appreciation. 'It's quite some trick.'

Using his little finger on every other stroke, the craftsman was deftly flicking water from a larger hollow in

the block on to the pearl. His apprentice watched attentively, pausing in his own duty of sharpening drill

points on a broad whetstone. As the driller pulled rod and bow away, the lad instantly picked the pearl

out of the hollow and washed it carefully in a little pot of fresh seawater.

'Are you having many pearls break?' Kheda asked casually.

'Very few, my lord,' the craftsman assured him with a half-smile.

'They're still getting their eye in on the biggest pearls.' Unbidden, Isei spoke up. 'There'll be more losses

with the smaller ones.'

'True enough,' said Kheda mildly.

But the fewer losses the better, both as portent for my rule and for the sake of the domain's trade, when

we need every resource to make good all the losses of this last year.

'Please take these to our lady Itrac Chazen, my lord.' Borha had stepped away for a moment, returning

with a box of berale-tree wood still pale and fresh from the joiner's hands. Dev stepped up smartly to

claim it.

'We'll be hard pressed to have all the pearls polished and drilled by the time our lady Itrac wishes to sail

north.' Isei's beard jutted defiantly. 'So many of our craftsmen were murdered by the invaders. And there

are those who would say those of us that remain would be better spending our energies elsewhere.'

I'd wager that whale-tooth talisman wasn't won by some ancestor who found the beast dead on the

shore. He was

probably master of the ship risking life and limb to drive it into the shallows and the waiting spears.

'I take it you're one of them?' Kheda looked straight at Isei once again. 'Then make your case. What

concerns do you have? Speak freely,' he commanded.

I'm not some lord like Ulla Safar who can kill a messenger for bringing undesirable news. Nor, to his

credit, was Chazen Saril.

Isei hesitated before drawing a deep breath and plunging on. 'We'll run short of food before the end of

the dry season, my lord. The rains were more than half-gone before we could get our sailer seedlings in

the ground. We have fewer men to work the land, with so many dead or fled, and fewer still to tend what

we could salvage from the fruit and vegetable plantations. Even with all the women and children lending

their strength to bring in the harvest, we nowhere near filled the granaries.'

Kheda raised a hand to quell the voices of the other spokesmen suddenly emboldened by Isei's words.

'I'm hardly ignorant of such vital matters but you're right to make certain that I appreciate your situation.'

'What do you propose to do about it?' Isei looked straight back at him, unabashed.

'I propose to discuss all the domain's necessities with my lady Itrac Chazen,' replied Kheda with a hint of

reproof, 'so that she may trade these pearls with the ladies of Redigal and Daish and the domains

beyond, to Chazen's best advantage.'

'We have concerns there as well, my lord,' asserted Isei boldly.

'Explain yourself,' Kheda prompted tersely, noting Borha wincing out of the corner of his eye.

'My lady Itrac will doubtless feel that Chazen is under obligation to Daish, Redigal and other domains for

their help in driving out the invaders.' Isei folded his arms

across his chest. 'Which is certainly true. But I believe Daish owes Chazen some debt that should be

weighed in the scales before any price in pearls is agreed for sailer grain or dried meats. Many Chazen

who had no choice but to flee before the invaders were given sanctuary among the Daish islands. The

Chazen repaid this generosity with their labour in the Daish sailer fields and vegetable plots.' Isei hastily

qualified his words. 'And such labour was gladly given, don't mistake me. Daish harvests have been

plentiful and we're glad of it, and to see Daish Sirket's rule begun under such good auspices. But it's a

fact that Daish Sirket's decree that all those of Chazen quit his domain before the stars of the new year

has left his islands with fewer mouths to feed while we have more come home with every tide and little

enough to share as it is.'

'You think Chazen might rightfully claim some share from the Daish granaries and storehouses?' Kheda

hazarded.

Is this some test, honest Isei? Do you think I should prove my fitness to wear a Chazen dagger by

challenging my own son, who was forced to declare himself Daish warlord because I was believed dead?

Don't think I haven't heard the murmuring, honest Isei, the whispers of those who say I should have

raised my sword against Sirket instead of turning to claim this leaderless domain. Do you think I should

have brought internal warfare on the people of Daish, with untamed savages massing on their southern

border? Who would have driven the invaders out of your islands then, after Chazen Saril had fled in

abject terror?

Isei made no reply, staring at the ground in front of him. The uncomfortable silence lengthened.

'I will discuss all the domain's concerns with my lady Itrac Chazen.' Kheda turned from Isei to address

Borha with a friendly smile. 'I know it's early days but are there many pearls of unusual colour or shape?'

'This way, my lord.' Borha eagerly ushered Kheda towards an open-sided tent surrounded by shallow

baskets redolent of decayed shellfish. Women sat at trestle tables, sorting through layers of salt-stained

cotton to retrieve smooth orbs, tear drops, angular hound's teeth, flattened petals and half-moons.

Kheda paused by a plump matron comfortable in a shapeless gown of orange patterned with yellow vizail

blossoms, a turtleshell comb in her grizzled curly hair. Her deft brown fingers were quick as a silver crane

plucking shrimp from the shallows as she dropped each style of pearl into separate silk-lined boxes.

'How are the pickings?' Kheda enquired genially.

She didn't look up, intent on her task. 'Far better than last year.'

'Here, my lord.' The woman on his other side surprised Kheda by taking his hand and dropping two

coloured pearls into his palm. One was a deep vibrant gold, the other a mysterious cloudy blue. Both

were as big as the nail on Kheda's smallest finger.

'Isei.' He held them up. 'Your village chose you to speak for them so you must read the day-to-day

omens. What do these signify to you?'

'Yellow for wealth, my lord.' Isei's eyes brightened with faint hope. 'Blue for good fortune.'

'A fine portent to greet your visit, my lord,' said Borha obsequiously.

A fine portent and, better yet, one that I had no hand in seeking out. An interpretation that we've all

known since childhood, plain enough for even the disaffected to read. A sign I can trust! That the

fortunes of this hapless domain are finally turning to good after the ills that have plagued it? Reassurance

that my actions haven't irrevocably blighted my future or theirs?

'I'm interrupting you, forgive me.' Kheda smiled at the

women whose fingers hadn't stopped working. He walked on, beyond the shade of the tents where bolts

of closely woven black material were stretched along the dry sand. Buckets were being emptied out on

to the cloth and the scent of decay was inescapable.

'What's going on here?' Dev wrinkled his nose.

'After fifteen days the vats are filled with seawater, to float out the maggots and slime and leave the pearls

and the shells.' Kheda nodded towards the detritus on the cloth: tiny scraps of shell, a few dead and

broken maggots, nameless sparkling fragments and sand of every colour the reefs offered. 'The slurry

from the bottom is sieved for seed pearls. Then it's dried and picked over for dust pearls.'

'I didn't think Daish went to so much bother,' commented a man searching the debris in front of them. He

only had one hand, and was propping himself on the stump of his other wrist. His leg on that same side

ended abruptly at mid-thigh.

'Daish doesn't. This is Chazen.' Kheda looked out towards the reefs where the pearl skiffs were now

anchored for their day's work, distant bobbing specks. 'Tell me, has there been much sight of sharks?

Any word of sea serpents?'

'Not so far.' The man looked up with frank thankfulness.

'You've got funny eyes.' A little boy squatting beside the crippled diver to search the dark cloth for

minuscule treasures stood up. His curly black head barely reached Kheda's sword belt as he peered up

with open curiosity. 'They're green.'

'Su, that's your lord Chazen Kheda,' a slim girl said in strangled embarrassment, scrambling to her feet

and dusting her hands against well-worn cotton trousers.

'He's still got green eyes,' said the lad forcefully.

'You're plainly your father's son.' Kheda hunkered down to meet the child on his own level. 'My

forefathers and foremothers made alliances that brought barbarian blood into my line. See, my hair's

more brown than black, isn't it?' He took off his helmet and relished the breeze on his sweating forehead.

''He's a barbarian.' Su's glance flickered dubiously to Dev. 'But he's got brown eyes.'

'So he's not that different from you.' Kheda ruffled the lad's tousled black hair. 'And now he lives among

civilized folk, so that makes him an Archipelagan.'

Su looked wide-eyed at Kheda. 'Is is true the northern lands run unbroken all the way across the

horizon?'

'I've never seen that myself,' Kheda answered apologetically. 'Dev?'

'It's true enough,' the barbarian confirmed with a grin.

'I'm going to take ship to the north and see for myself when I'm grown,' the little boy said robustly. 'I'll

take an oar on a galley and work my way up to helmsman and then shipmaster.'

'When will the merchant galleys be coming, my lord, from the other domains?' The girl bit her lip at her

own daring. 'It's just that we'll need silk, for stringing the pearls.' Someone behind Kheda caught her eye

and she fell silent, dropping her gaze to the ground.

'I shall remind my lady Itrac Chazen,' Kheda assured her, 'just as soon as may be.' He stood and thrust

his helmet back on his head to hide a furtive sting of tears in his eyes.

Sirket was like that as a child, always ready to speak his mind and full of questions. Mesil was more of a

thinker, doubtless still is, certainly not one to play a wager against unless you've all your wits about you.

Which will my third son grow to be — eager seeker or careful observer? How will I ever

know, separated from him and all my other children, my beautiful, beloved daughters?

He cleared his throat and nodded to the crippled diver. 'You are certainly blessed in your children, my

friend.'

The importunate Isei was at Kheda's shoulder as he turned to walk away. 'Children are indeed a man's

greatest good fortune. And the domain's.'

That's another of your concerns, is it? You and everyone else speculating around the evening cookfires.

What would you have me say to my lady Itrac Chazen on that score?

Kheda found his patience abruptly exhausted. 'Thank you, Borha, this has all been most interesting. I

shall take some refreshment now, until you have need of me to read the omens.'

With his sudden about-face leaving them wrong-footed, he strode past the startled spokesmen. The

islanders who had trailed around after their progress hurriedly got out of his way. With Dev at his

shoulder, Kheda headed for the little blue pavilion and dropped on to the down-filled cushions, ignoring

the girls.

'Some privacy for my lord. No, leave that.' Dev nodded at a girl carrying a ewer of juice. She put it on a

small table wedged firmly into the sandy ground where Dev set the berale-wood box of pearls before

shooing the patiently waiting maidens away, taking a tray of little cakes from one and a goblet of

sard-berry juice from another.

Kheda reached up to take the drink the barbarian offered him. 'That should be "our lord".'

'Who expects an ignorant barbarian to get it right every time?' Dev said, sardonic.

'Too many lapses and they'll expect me to beat it into you if necessary,' warned Kheda, 'and they may

start wondering why I don't. We can't either of us afford that.'

'You've got them wondering about more than your unusual body slave.' Dev glanced idly around at the

village

spokesmen who were engaging in desultory conversations with various islanders. 'I think they're trying to

guess if you'll turn out to be some vicious tyrant like Ulla Safar or the enlightened ruler they were so used

to hearing Daish traders boast of.'

'They should be used to uncertainty. Chazen Saril's moods were apt to change as quick as a weather

vane in the rainy season.' Kheda took one of the little sweetmeats Dev was offering and bit into it. Taken

unawares by the glutinous sweetness of the filling, he grimaced before forcing himself to swallow it. 'And

as my dutiful body slave, can you please spread the word as tactfully as you can that I have nothing like

Saril's sweet tooth.'

'Anything else?' asked Dev, amused.

'Yes.' Kheda looked up, tone forthright. 'You can find out just what history there might be between

Borha and Isei. If there are any tensions between the two of them or their villages, I want to know every

detail. Everyone's all co-operation now, with the first excitement of a rich pearl harvest in view. That

might last or it might not, once all the late nights and early mornings take their toll. And this cheerfulness

will float away on the tide if sharks or sea serpents start taking divers on the reefs, or if too many of them

find their eyesight fails this season.'

Healer I may be, but there's nothing I can do for eyes grown clouded, silvered as the pearls they've

sought for so many years. Nor for those who find blurring in their vision means they can only see what

they're not actually looking at. I may be their augur but I've no explanation for that paradox.

But the divers are always remarkably sanguine; they know some will pay that price for the oceans

bounty. Everything has its price.

'Leave it to me,' Dev said confidently. 'I can be your eyes and ears, just like a proper body slave.'

'I don't have a lot of choice, do I?' retorted Kheda,

waving away the sweetmeats and taking another drink to try to rid his mouth of the cloying taste.

But you're right. You are an accomplished spy and one who spent enough years sailing the length and

breadth of the Archipelago's domains to know all the ins and outs of masquerading as a body slave.

Everything except the sword skills.

But are you still spying for those mysterious barbarian powers that first sent you into Aldabreshin waters?

And how will you seek to profit on your own account with whatever you learn, with your northern greed

and utter lack of scruple? What will these people of Chazen think of me, if you 're caught out in some

despicable connivance?

What wouldn't I give to have Telouet back as my body slave, strong sword arm and faithful friend

besides? The only consolation for his loss is that he serves Sirket now. There's no one I would rather

have trusted my son to.

Dev grinned as Kheda handed him the empty goblet. 'I can tell you one thing none of you Archipelagans

seem to know: you can do better than silk for stringing pearls. Horsehair, that's what you want, white

horsehair. That's what all the gem traders on the mainland use. It's the first thing they do when they get

their hands on Aldabreshin pearls - restring them.'

Taken aback despite himself, Kheda rallied. 'Just how am I supposed to get such stuff when we're as far

from the unbroken lands as it's possible to get? And every northern domain that's been tempted to trade

for horses from you barbarians has seen their investment sicken and die before the year's out. No, I'll

settle for safer trades and more immediately useful ones, food most of all. Isei may be overbold but he's

not wrong to worry about a hungry end to the dry season.'

'Well, you'd better not go hungry here or you'll be insulting all these fine people.' Dev searched through

the

sweetmeats with careful fingers. 'I think that's a plainer one. If you're worried about them running short of

food hereabouts, can't they just eat the pearl oysters instead of fattening up maggots for the fish and the

seabirds and raising a stink to curdle the clouds?'

'Have you ever tried eating a pearl oyster, you ignorant barbarian?' Kheda was surprised into laughing

and nearly choked on the little cake. 'I'd eat the coral gulls first and they taste disgusting.' He paused to

catch his breath before continuing, face serious. 'No, I don't want anyone in the domain reduced to such

straits; they'd give up on my rule for good if they were. Besides, it's an ill omen to cook any kind of

shellfish and find you've ruined a pearl with the heat of a fire. Haven't you seen how thoroughly the divers

cut up purple conch flesh, to make sure there's nothing hidden in the folds?'

'If you're not hungry, can I eat something?' Dev asked as he handed Kheda the refilled goblet. 'I lost my

breakfast, if you recall.' He barely waited for Kheda's nod of permission before cramming a couple of

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NORTHERNSTORMJulietE.McKennaAnOrbitBookFirstpublishedinGreatBritainbyOrbit,2004Copyright©JulietE.McKenna2004ISBN1841491675TypesetinEhrhardtbyPalimpsestBookProductionLimited,Polmont,StirlingshirePrintedandboundinGreatBritainbyMackaysofChathampic,Chatham,KentOrbitAnimprintofTimeWarnerBookGroupUKBrette...

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