Behind her, past the hedge, the palace gardens were lush and well tended, but here on the edges of the promontory, the greenery had been stripped away and there was nothing here but stone walls and wind-swept rock. She walked forward. Perhaps twenty feet away was the fortifying wall, a massive structure about ten feet thick and thirty feet tall. A narrow stair climbed up to the parapet at the top of the wall and a small guard tower that overlooked the wall and what lay beyond. She could see two guards on the walkway standing with their backs to her, but she knew there were probably more around. Both Tarmaks were well armed and carried bows already strung. It would be better to let them know she was there, she decided, than surprise them and end up with an arrow in her chest. She shouted a greeting in her roughest Tarmakian.
The two Tarmaks whirled in surprise, and as she suspected, two more came running from the tower. They glowered down at her, jabbering at her in Tarmakian too fast for her to follow and gesturing for her to turn back. She calmly ignored their gestures and walked up the stone steps to the walk. Clasping her hands, she bowed to them politely.
“Can any of you speak Common?” she asked.
“Drathkin’kela,” one warrior replied in a rough voice. It was the hetkegul, the warrior in charge of a unit of ten. “You should not be here. This is not for women.”
She bowed again and said a silent thank you. Courtesy was her weapon here, and she was not yet fluent enough in Tarmakian to feign such politeness.
“I am not here to get in your way, Keikegul,” she said. “I just want to sit on the wall and watch the sea. I want to feel the wind and the sun.” She angled herself slightly so he could clearly see the bruises on her throat and on her eye. “I am not like the other women. You know what it is like to ride horses on the open plains and sail the vast seas. I have done that. I have fought in battle like you, and I have ridden the great dragons. This place—” she waved back at the palace behind her—“is beautiful, but my spirit chafes in there. I just want to see something beyond the walls. I will stay out of your way. I promise.”
The Inetkegul looked perplexed, and Linsha offered him her most persuasive smile. He’d probably never had a woman from the Akeelawasee come out and ask to sit on his walls. He talked for a few minutes with his guards while Linsha waited, and eventually he nodded to her.
“You may stay for a short while, but you will go when I tell you. And Ruthig will stay with you.”
She glanced up the towering Tarmak he indicated and shrugged. All four of them could stand around her, as long they let her see beyond the wall. With deliberate care she chose a place in full view of the Tarmaks, climbed carefully to the top, and sat down cross-legged on the sun-warmed stone. The wind from the sea teased her hair and filled her nose with the smell of saltwater. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The wind was out of the west, and although she could smell nothing but warm rock and cool sea, she fancied that this same wind had swept over Ansalon a few days before and still carried some essence of her homeland on its capricious breezes.
She had come a long way to look over this wall, but she did not look down immediately. Instead she cast her eyes to the sea beyond the harbor, to the northern Courrain Ocean that gleamed a blue-gray in the late morning light and rolled endlessly south toward home and freedom. She looked far beyond the distant shores of the bay, past the dark towers of the Orchemenarc, and concentrated on the hazy horizon between water and sky, and when she had that vision indelibly etched into her memory, she closed her eyes and turned her focus inward to the secret recesses of her heart and the power she knew beat there.
She had not tried this in a long while simply because she had failed so often it was hardly worth the effort. But she had learned why from Danian at the gathering at the Grandfather Tree—the spirits of the dead drained the power for their own purposes. She had never learned why the spirits had been trapped in the living world or why they needed the energy; all she knew were the effects of their desperate hunger. But this place was far from Ansalon and the wars that plagued that troubled land. Maybe, just maybe, the souls were not here.
She drew deeper into herself, putting away the discomforts of her sore eye and aching throat, her wounded hand and stiff muscles, until the world receded from her and she found at last the tranquility she had so desperately missed. Her heartbeat slowed; her muscles relaxed. Slowly she gathered the mystic power of her heart and spread it out through her body to soothe her pain, strengthen her limbs, and invigorate her mind. It flowed through her body, a warm, tingling intoxication that fired her body and her spirit. The spell was almost complete when she felt the familiar faint tickle on her face and neck. The power suddenly drained from her like water from a broken cup and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The spell broke and vanished. She sighed. Apparently there were hungry souls here, too, and the magic was gone for now. At least the spell had worked long enough to serve its purpose. She felt stronger and more vigorous than she had in days.
A hand prodded her back and she heard a voice say, “Drathkin’kela, the guards will be changing soon. You must go.”
She pulled herself back to the world, to the external sounds of the sea below her, to the smells, and the heat, and the wind. Opening her eyes, she looked at the sea’s horizon then let her eyes slide slowly downward until she was staring at the edge of the cliff. Her face lightened into a broad smile.
10
Over the Wall
Afec was waiting for her when she came back from the midday meal. He looked her over carefully and said, “I know my skills are as good as any Keena’s, but I don’t believe I have seen anyone heal as fast as you. The swelling is almost gone from your eye, the bruises are gone from your throat, and look at your hand! The cut has closed over already.”
Linsha made a noncommittal shrug. “That blue paint works wonders,” she said.
Of course he didn’t entirely believe her, but when she wasn’t more forthcoming, he led her to a quiet room away from the noise and bustle of the early afternoon activities and spent an hour telling her the schedule of events of a royal Tarmak wedding and her expected role.
She listened for a while and picked up the gist of the ceremony. There would be many prayers, a blessing of the couple, and a procession where she had to walk while Lanther rode a horse. The bride was supposed to be accompanied by family and attendants, but since Linsha had none, she would walk alone as befitted the Drathkin’kela. There seemed to be much talking and feasting involved. That was good. She didn’t even want to think about-let alone discuss-the wedding night. She understood from Lanther’s pronouncement the night before that the wedding night would begin immediately and wouldn’t end until he set sail for the Missing City. Her mind balked at that and began to wander elsewhere while she thought of ways to hide a small dirk in her dress. Or did the Tarmaks wed naked like they fought? Now there was an image that made her stomach churn. No, Afec had mentioned a dress at one point. Her thoughts trailed away on another tangent.
A yawn sneaked up on her and slipped out before she could stop it. If Afec noticed he did not stop. He continued in his modulated voice telling her about her greetings to the Empress and the Emperor. Obviously the marriage of an Akkad was an important event and the Tarmaks made the most of it with much drinking and feasting. She yawned again, and this time Afec broke off his talking and sent her to her pallet with strict instructions to rest.