They have flourished and bloomed after suffering such wanton damage, renewed, restored. Let that be an omen.
‘My lord.’ Dev’s voice broke into his thoughts with scant courtesy. ‘Put your armour on before’ we leave the residence.’ He was wearing his own chain mail and carrying Kheda’s, as well as being encumbered by a bulky bag slung over one shoulder. All their swords were thrust through his belt where they clashed awkwardly.
‘Of course.’ Kheda donned his armour quickly, aware of watching eyes high on the tall towers. The topmost turrets were dark, with no lamps to ruin the sentries’ night vision, but he could hear the rustle of feet and the faint clink of armour. Only the observatory tower was silent.
Kheda pulled the studded belt tight to draw the weight of the hauberk on to his hips as it dragged at his shoulders. ‘Let’s go.’ He took his scabbarded swords from Dev and secured them in the tight grip of his double-looped sword belt as he strode towards the northern outer gate.
‘Open to your lord Chazen Kheda.’ Dev’s voice was calm and emotionless as he stepped past the warlord to confront the sentry.
The man looked from the impassive body slave to Kheda, who kept his face equally expressionless. The sentry bowed low and withdrew the door’s heavy bar.
Pulling open one half of the door, he stepped through it.
‘Bow to your lord Chazen Kheda,’ he commanded the guards springing to their feet in the arcade beyond. Kheda nodded briefly to the detachment of waniors as he walked down the steps and into the outer enclosure. The ground was cool and damp beneath his bare feet. Above, the sky was clearing. The light from the distant, just barely lopsided orb of the Lesser Moon turned the countless streams and pools to cold quicksilver. The outer wall was a black barrier before them.
‘Watch your step,’ Dev warned Velindre and Risala before stepping forward to repeat his challenge to the waiting sentries.
Kheda gave them a curt nod as he went out towards the shore with his ill-assorted entourage.
You dont know what to make of this, do you, faithful waniors of Chazen? Will you spend the rest of the night debating whether I’m disappearing again? Will you wait for all to be made clear when the dawn comes? Will you accept Itrac’s reassurances even if I’ve not won your trust as yet? Kheda kept his face as blank as marble as they passed through the final gate and walked out across the cold and wet grassy expanse between the residence and the shoreline defences. They were barely out of earshot of the waniors guarding the residence when he heard Velindre whisper to Dev in their barbarian tongue. He struggled to follow her words.
‘This place is going to be buzzing with speculation before we’re out of sight,’ the magewoman hissed. ‘Wasn’t there some less obvious exit?’
‘What would you suggest?’ Dev countered. ‘Shall we wait till morning and carry ourselves over the walls with magic? We could blend fire and air together and vanish in front of their astonished eyes. How much panic would that provoke around here?’
‘I’m hardly suggesting open wizardry,’ retorted Velindre scathingly. ‘Just a little more discretion.’
‘The warlord has to be seen to leave the residence.’ Risala spoke up in firm Aldabreshin. ‘If everyone wakes up tomorrow and finds he’s not there, it won’t be good enough to say he just slipped out of a side door while everyone was asleep. There’ll be servants who’d set rumours running that he was dead or incapacitated, out of sheer mischief or because their true allegiance is to Daish or Aedis or some other domain.’
‘Yes, they’ll all be whispering behind their hands and wondering what we’re up to but they won’t gainsay Itrac’s explanation,’ Kheda said neutrally. Not without good reason, not for a good while. The best way to avoid that will be sending good news back here as soon as possible, if you two can possibly contrive some.’
They approached the arch piercing the mighty wall drawn across the beach. There was no gate here, merely the outermost portcullis prudently lowered. Kheda heard the growl of the winches and the rattle of chains pulling the lattice of wood and steel upwards almost before Dev had completed his challenge to the warrior commanding the wall guard.
‘This way.’ Once outside, Kheda felt uncomfortably exposed on the open shore.
‘There must be curious eyes all along that rampart,’ Velindre muttered behind him in the tongue of the Archipelago this time.
‘Let’s get the boat in the water and sail away before anyone else wakes up, shall we?’ invited Dev. ‘At least the rains mean there aren’t too many people sleeping on the beach,’ Risala observed.
Out in the open water, the Green Turtle rode in silent sleep after dutifully delivering Risala and Velindre. The galleys and smaller boats at anchor were dark shapes on the silver sea, their crews below half-decks or lying beneath awnings of oiled hide drawn tight over open hulls. There were a few tents on the sand, solidly planted above the high-water mark with their ropes storm lashed. There were no lights or sounds bar one sleeper’s shockingly raucous snore.
Risala stifled a giggle as they passed the snorer’s tent and Kheda shot her a grin in the faint moonlight. ‘Come on.’ Dev was intent on the modest boat floating on an extended tether at the furthest end of the beach. Velindre followed him, her pale head colourless in the moonlight.
Kheda reached for Risala’s hand and she took it as they hurried after the wizards.
‘It’s smaller than the Amigal,’ Risala remarked as she joined Kheda and Dev to haul on the rope as they pulled the boat closer into shore.
Not by much.’ Kheda leaned back, using all his weight. ‘And it handles better.’
‘The Amigal handled better than any boat you people will ever build.’ Dev scowled.
The new boat grounded on the unseen seabed with a grating thump and rocked gently, water lapping at her sides.
‘How do we get aboard?’ Velindre looked on askance from the dry sand.
‘We wade.’ Kheda pointed to a rope ladder hanging over the boat’s square stern. ‘And we climb.’ Dev was already waist deep. Velindre followed, her leather bag held high as she waded through the water.
‘Come on.’ Kheda looked at Risala.
‘It has no name.’ She looked at him, frowning. ‘And I don’t imagine you’ve got an augury dove tucked in some pocket or other. This is hardly the best way to start this voyage.’
‘There are enough omens of ill luck that you can’t control without going out of your way to invite more,’ observed Velindre, pausing in the lapping waves.
Kheda looked at her. She met his gaze calmly. ‘As I said, I’ve been doing a lot of reading on my way down here. How else do you think I learned your language?’
Dev was already aboard and busy with the sail’s ropes. ‘We’ll be ready to move in a few moments,’ he warned testily.
Kheda heard a brief flurry of liquid sound floating high in the air. He looked around with surprise. ‘A reteul and singing from the east. Is that enough of an omen for you?’
A bird of good omen, as they share their song with past and future, the birds of the present singing the same melody as those that laid their parents in the egg, the same song that those as yet unhatched will know. An omen to remind me to trust in the past and hope in the future?
Risala smiled with relief. ‘I would say so.’
Kheda looked at her, the desire he’d kept in check through her absence seizing him anew. Then another realisation twisted painfully beneath his breastbone.
The reteul’s a sign of constancy, each pair mating for life and all the birds of any one island sharing their song with each other alone. No other island’s birds will have the same song. What does that presage for your future with Risala?
‘What are you two waiting for?’ Dev leaned over the boat’s stern to help Velindre aboard. ‘A good omen,’ Risala retorted as she splashed through the water to the ladder.