'We keep little braziers alight in our observatory's book rooms.' Unexpected apprehension surprised Kheda. 'I hope Sirket's remembered to see to them.'
If he has, I hope he hasn't set the whole place alight. That would be a truly disastrous omen. Mould in the library wouldn't be much better. How soon will all this be over, so I can spend a peaceful day in there, reading about complete inconsequentialities?
'You can tell Janne Daish to remind him.' Risala took another drink from the water bottle.
'As long as she arrives sometime soon.' Desire to see Janne and apprehension over news she might bring tormented Kheda in equal measure. Unable to sit, he rose and fastened his gaze on the chain of isles that would guide Janne's vessel here. All he could see were indistinct blurs of sand and greenery and distant palms waving feathery tops in the wind.
Risala stood and brushed sand from her faded trousers before making another slow circuit of the wall enclosing the tower of weathered stone. Set away from the prevailing winds, the single door was sturdily built of wood bleached to a silver sheen by salt wind and rain. Within the wall, a spiral stair curled up around the solid core of the tower to the lofty platform rimmed by a low balustrade. The wind stirred something high above that rustled softly and then stilled.
'Nothing to see to the east or north,' Risala reported.
Kheda pointed. 'There's a light galley.'
They watched the sleek boat skirting the shoals fringing these distant islets.
'It must be her,' Kheda said with fervent hope.
'I'll make myself scarce.' Risala shifted uncertainly from foot to foot. 'You don't think they'll search the rest of the island?'
'She'll have told them she's here to contemplate my loss in the shadow of the tower.' Kheda shook his head abruptly. 'To see if dreams here show her what it might mean for the domain. No one else will dare set foot on the isle.'
The lithe galley soared over the sparkling waters towards them, its single white canvas wing of a sail catching an obliging wind, foam flying up beneath the prow.
'Until later then.' Risala disappeared around the curve of the wall.
Kheda walked round the tower enclosure and slid through the gate. It was appreciably warmer inside the wall, with no breeze to mitigate the force of the sun beating down and barely a veil of cloud drifting across the vivid blue sky.
Is there anything in here to guide me, any omen to be read?
A few scraps of cloth in the drifts of dust were faded to an indefinable grey, no way to tell their original colour. Kheda picked up a scrap and it crumbled to parched threads between his fingers. There had been no one left here for the winds and weather to carry their essence across the domain in Kheda's generation or Daish Reik's. Apart from the noise and upheaval of the pearl harvest, the sea birds had this vantage point to themselves year round. There were feathers everywhere, white mostly, some tipped with black, grey or gold, some dried by wind and sun to the fragility of straw, others newer. The white stone of the tower showed streaks where the birds nesting at the top had spattered the stone with their droppings. The rains hadn't yet washed all the muck away.
Pearl gulls, coral divers, even dawn wanderer feathers, of all sizes from down to wing pinions, A man could gather a fine spread of plumage to cast for a prediction. A man who wasn't afraid he was so deeply mired in magic any such reading would be meaningless.
Never mind. My ability to read omens may be compromised but everything I ever learned of reading the skies holds true. The Vizail Blossom is the rising sign, symbol of femininity and hope, of protection for the home, sweet scent in the darkness. It's in the arc of marriage and all such closest relationships. The Diamond's there, for clarity of purpose and talisman against evil, powerful gem for all who rule. It shares the sky with the Opal, for faithfulness and truth, talisman against magic, at its full, at its brightest.
This must be the right thing to do and I only have today to do it. Half the heavens will be changed by tomorrow. The Amethyst, for inspiration, and guided by the Horned Fish, that will move from the arc for honour and ambition to the realm of friendship and alliance strengthened by the vigour of the Winged Serpent. The Ruby moves from the realm of the self backed by the strength of the Yora Hawk, into the arc of wealth and possessions. The Sailfish is there, for good luck and happiness to come with the Pearl riding with it. Talisman for my house, token of inspiration, talisman against madness. This has to be the right thing to do.
A rowboat grounded on the shore outside with a solid crunch. Kheda heard low voices then the boat pushed off in a slithering rush of water. Footsteps approached the tower. Someone walked around the circle of the wall and the latch rattled. 'Kheda?'
'Janne.' He walked around the tower, holding out his arms. 'My love.'
'I was beginning to think I would never see you again.' She closed the door in the wall behind her, dropping her gaze as she put back the fine shawl covering her tightly braided hair.
'There were times when I wondered if I'd ever return.' Kheda's throat tightened.
Not that you look much of a returning hero.
Kheda was suddenly acutely aware of his mismatched, faded, salt-stained clothes. His hair and beard were tousled and untrimmed, his arms scored with old and new scratches, outstretched palms marked with oar calluses. 'You look more beautiful than ever, my wife.'
Janne wore a sleeveless glossy blue gown vividly brocaded with gold and belted with a thick gold chain with hanging jewels of nacre and pearl. More pearls glistened on fine clasps threaded through her braids. As she folded her arms over the loose folds of her mantle of pale green gauze, gold and silver bracelets thick on her wrists jingled.
She wore rings on every finger bright in the sunlight, silver and gold, their malachite bezels dull in contrast.
A stone to heal grief.
'What news have you brought back with you?' Janne's tone was all business. 'What plans for ridding Chazen of these savages?'
Kheda shook his head. 'You first. I've been hearing all kinds of rumours. Why have you and Rekha taken the other children north and left Sirket at the mercy of Saril and Itrac's blandishments? People are saying Chazen guile could undermine the Daish hold on the domain.'
'Naturally, gossip floating in the wake of merchant galleys along with the night soil and food scraps must be the truth.' Janne looked quizzically at him. 'We took the younger children north mostly for their safekeeping and also because that's our usual routine when the rains come.' She shot a hard glance at Kheda. 'They think you're dead, all of them. They're still grieving. We thought it best to keep as much of their life unchanged, to give them what reassurance might be possible.'
'Oh.' Chastened, Kheda wasn't sure what to say.
Janne absently twisted the edge of her mantle, gold thread in the soft sage catching the light. 'Sain had a difficult delivery and wasn't really fit for travel. The baby was healthy enough, a son—' She smiled fondly. 'We're calling him Yasi. But there was always the chance that one of them would die.' Her voice roughened with emotion. 'None of us wanted the children to be put through that, so soon after losing you.'
'I had to go,' Kheda protested.
Janne's unconscious movement might have been a shiver if there had been any breeze. 'Sirket has done his very best by the domain. He has stayed close to Chazen Saril in an attempt to put some backbone into the man,' she added with growing asperity. 'Just as Sain is doing her duty by our people. She encourages Chazen Saril to confide in her and discovers what he's learnt from his people fleeing north, much that he's not been sharing openly with us, I might add.'