Setting down her scurrier skin by the tree, she picked
up the least rotten length of fallen wood she could find and thumped the nest of feathery fronds sprouting from the stubby trunk as hard as she could. She didn't want to disturb any snakes or stingers lurking in the depths. Untying the bark rope around her bundle, she spread out the hide and sat down. She picked up the broken lump of black stone and looked at it this way and that. Gripping the angled piece of bone tight, she set the black stone down on the hide and, catching her tongue between her dry, cracked lips, she hit it hard. A flake split away, one good enough to do the job. The old man had taught her well. Protecting her palm with one of the scraps of hide, she looked for the best cutting edge and smiled triumphantly.
Getting to her feet, she circled the drought palm looking for a frond thin enough to yield to her failing strength. Seeing a likely prospect, she pressed close to the tree, the prickly trunk jabbing painfully at her old skin through the gap in her scant leather wrap. She pulled the frond down as far as she could, using all her meagre weight to bring the tip lower than the base. She worked slowly, cautiously, sawing at the stubborn green skin with the cutting stone. Dark sap from the outer layers stained the pale fibrous inside. It tore loose with an abruptness that surprised her. Doing her best not to spill the precious water on the uncaring forest floor, she sucked frantically at the hollow stem of the frond. The water was pure and faintly sweet and soothing.
Thirst quenched, she sat for a little while on the scur-rier hide, absently swatting away the flies instantly drawn by the breath of moisture. Some while later, she got up with a sigh and, cutting a second frond, she managed to pour more than half its hoarded water into the bigger of her two gourds. She plugged it with a twist of greenery torn from the discarded frond and knotted a sling for it from her skein of bark cord. The gourd sloshed at her
side as she went on her way, bundle balanced on her other hip.
The ground was definitely rising. She walked doggedly onwards. There were fewer villages in the uplands. All she had to do was stay out of sight.
CHAPTER FOUR
That rich scent is purple poppy and that drier astringency is redlance. I'm surprised it penetrates the dense spiciness rising from the clumps of aspi leaves.
Refreshed by the night's dew, the physic garden surrounding the observatory tower breathed a heady mix of perfumes into cool air barely stirred by the new day's breezes. It was still early enough for the stone steps of his pavilion to feel cold beneath Kheda's feet. He was already dressed in fine indigo silk embroidered with silver, his silver and sapphire jewellery dull in the muted light.
'I don't know that Daish Sirket will expect you to greet him when they're arriving so early,' Itrac said neutrally as she padded over the smooth tile on soundless feet. Her night plait was unbrushed and she wore a crumpled pink robe over ungainly padded breast bands and supportive binding wrapped tight around her belly.
'1 couldn't sleep. But you should rest all you can.' Kheda put his arm around Itrac's shoulders and gave her a gentle hug to make it plain he wasn't rebuking her. 'And don't exhaust yourself entertaining all our guests today.'
'I was awake to feed Olkai and Sekni.' She tugged absently at the front of her gown. 'Has Ritsem Caid said what omen he sees in Redigal Coron's loss of hiscounsellors?'
Nothing to give me a clue as to what mendacious interpretation I should be concocting for best advantage.
Kheda answered her with a question of his own. 'Did Sekni and Olkai sleep well?'
'Well enough for me to be sufficiently rested for today. Jevin says you're permitting some travelling scholar to consult the Chazen archive,' Itrac persisted with some concern. 'Does he bring some contrary portent for Olkai and Sekni's fortunes from some other domain?'
'No, no,' Kheda assured her. 'He's only interested in mariners' histories.'
She laid her head on his shoulder. 'You'll rest more easily when you read the new-year stars. It'll be interesting to see something of what lies ahead for the Ulla and Redigal domains,' she added thoughtfully.
'Indeed.' Kheda glanced towards the shuttered observatory, satisfying himself there was no sign that the magewoman within was stirring.
Will there be the slightest chance I can read some false omen into the heavens or the earthly compass that would justify my departure on this cursed voyage into the unknown with Velindre? To think I would once have sooner cut off my sword hand than tell such lies.
'The Ritsem slaves are already awake,' Itrac observed. Servants were emerging from the shadowed portico of the distant ebony-doored hall and heading towards the kitchens flanking a lofty storehouse on the next islet. 'Despite their late arrival.'
'Ritsem Caid said he'd welcome Daish Sirket with me.' Kheda turned his attention to the drifts of mist beyond the outermost edge of the reef, trying to discern any hint of a ship. 'Which will demonstrate Ritsem's closeness to Chazen. Not that he needs to, even if Ulla Safar made so much of his surprise that he had only come with one of his wives.' He didn't hide his irritation.
'They brought Zorat with them.' Itrac was unperturbed. 'Ritsem Caid would hardly take his heir to a
domain he didn't trust, and Taisia's his first wife.' She spoke more softly, for his ears alone. 'Taisia Ritsem is with child. She told me and the Redigal wives, and Chay and Mirrel, when we were in the nursery last night. Isn't that proof that Ritsem are our faithful allies? Taisia would hardly risk any lingering shadow of Chazen's misfortunes falling on her unborn child. I'm not surprised Mirrel Ulla and Chay ate so little at dinner. The news must have curdled their stomachs.'
'Why?' Itrac's evident pleasure in this diverted Kheda from the empty seas beyond the lagoon.
'Because they are both desperate to find themselves with child. It seems Ulla Safar is hoping to breed himself a new son.' Itrac's nose wrinkled with distaste. 'He has kept them both shut up in Derasulla along with his lesser wives and concubines since the end of the rains, and the first woman to give him one will be raised to first wife over Mirrel.'
'Ulla Orhan must really be ill.' Kheda stared out across the lagoon.
I'm going nowhere until I know what Ulla Safar is up to. Velindre can protest all she wants. And I want Risala back here, not least to learn what rumours she's picked up in Ulla waters.
'Safar obviously misread whatever signs led him to poison every other boy child his women were inconsiderate enough to bear him.' Itrac shuddered.
What omens convinced my father to raise all his sons to the brink of manhood instead of allowing our mothers to send us away as infants? How difficult was it for him to set his seal to that final decree declaring me his heir on his death? How could our mothers enforce his wishes, offering the rest the choice between castration and life aszamorin slaves or a quick and simple death? How could they do otherwise without throwing Daish into chaos? Were they glad that custom demanded they
quit the domain after they had condemned their own sons to such a poisoned choice? How could I ever have believed the circling stars could sanction such a thing?
Kheda grimaced. 'So how many of his women are brooding swollen bellies inside that fortress?'
'None,' said Itrac with vicious amusement. 'And from what Elio Redigal was telling me, indulgence in his barbarian liquors and intoxicant smokes generally leaves Safar too limp to make good on his intentions, no matter how firm his resolve to get himself another male heir.'