Tivi's Dagger Page 11

  “By the Gods, brother,” I said, alarmed. “That looks painful. What happened?”

  “I wrenched it when we were going through that godforsaken tunnel on those slippery rocks.” He grimaced and flopped back on the bed. “Anyway Ned, it appears you’ve outslept us all once more. How about packing up the donkey in preparation for our departure?”

  “I will do my best, since my hand is still burnt and sore. What of your ankle? You walked upon it all day? Surely you do not mean to carry on without rest? You’ll only harm yourself further.”

  Brin gave a bitter snort. “It is hardly the worst pain I have ever endured.”

  “I have found the leather strapping you asked for, Brindar,” Lana said, bounding down the steps with a big grin, apparently full of energy. “Kari has gone to sell the silks as you asked, and Kel is tending to the donkey. We should be ready to go within the hour.”

  She knelt in front of Brin and took his injured foot onto her lap almost tenderly. I watched as she bandaged his ankle up tight while my brother tried to appear nonchalant, wincing only when she was not looking. When the job was done, she gazed upon her work critically. “I am no doctor, but this strapping should hold well once you have your boot on. By the Gods, I’m starving! Aren’t you? A surly fellow has set up a stall outside the inn selling some sort of stew. It smelt as wonderful as he was miserable. I have a hankering for meat, suddenly.”

  She winked at me and I wondered who the lucky recipient of her affections was this time — this surly fellow she spoke of perhaps, or some other man she had met while buying the bandages.

  “Anyway,” she went on. “We shall be able to eat like kings soon, after Kari has sold the silks. The merchant’s starting price was much higher than I imagined and our guide is driving a hard bargain.”

  There was a silence as Brin flexed his foot. “You should be careful around that boy, Ned. If he were not to guide us through these wretched caverns, I would surely send him back to the Temple.”

  I gaped at my brother. “Why would you do such a thing? Has he not seen us safely this far, after all? What harm has he done to you?”

  “I’m not blind, nor am I naïve. And you’re almost fourteen years his senior, so you should know better. It’s quite clear to me that our young guide has developed some sort of schoolboy passion toward you, and at best you’ve done nothing to dissuade him from it. At worst…” He gave me a dark look as he reached for his boot, and my heart began to pound with sudden anxiety.

  “At worst?” I echoed fearfully. What did he know? Would he reach for the whip again? Surely not in front of Lana, who was gazing at me with a worried frown.

  But Brin just shrugged. “Whose affections you court is of no consequence to me, but it should be to you, for it’s a cruelty to encourage the hopeless, as well you know. As we speak, our father is busy back home seeing to the arrangements for your marriage.”

  I struggled to my feet, aghast.

  “What? You…what? My what?”

  “Your marriage, Ned.”

  Brin seemed almost spitefully happy. I had never hated him as much in my life as I did at that moment. A smug expression played about behind his beard as he went on. “Father is not getting any younger, nor any more sober, more’s the pity. And you are the heir. It is time you shouldered the responsibility and started acting like one. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, as it’s always been your destiny.” He got to his feet and flexed his ankle once more with a grimace. “Gods be willing, the ceremony will take place shortly after our return to Azmara.”

  The flames of rage and dismay that were beginning to lick against my thumping heart were fuelled to a greater intensity by the knowledge that, on most levels, my brother was right. All my life I had been like a condemned prisoner of the pirates Lana and I had once accompanied, destined to walk blindfolded along the plank and unable to see the moment the solid ground would fall away from under my feet. And Brin, damn him to the Plane of Demons, was the one poking the sword at my back.

  He pulled his boots on and tied them tight. “Did you mention there was stew for sale outside, Lana? I think I’ll partake of some breakfast after all. We’ll need our strength.”

  When he was gone I slumped back down on the bed, head in my hands. My mind tortured me with images of my father and brother sitting by the fire back at our mansion while I was out, plotting thickly to get me out of the country so that my father’s nefarious plans could be made in peace. Chuckling together as they considered which options would be least agreeable to me before deciding on a torturous pilgrimage which required my total obedience. Cackling gleefully about the line-up of Azmara’s least wanted noblewomen my father would assemble, from which he would surely select the most unsightly and disagreeable of hags.

  Lana sat beside me and put her arm around my shoulders, emitting a long whistle. “By all the Thirteen, that was an announcement and a half! I’m almost faint from the surprise of it.”

  “I’m a bit more than surprised, Lana.” I looked at my best friend through sudden pricking tears of despair and self-pity. “What am I to do now? Wouldn’t you marry me and save me from this grisly fate? You’re eligible, you’re of age. We wouldn’t have to change more than where we live. I would never make you wear those dreadful gowns and attend those society parties, for I loathe them too.”

  She sighed and gave me a squeeze. “As well you know Ned, I’m the last of the Destar line and as such I’m able to insist that any suitor assume my name upon marriage and embrace the crest of the Destars as his own. It is enough to send most eligible men running for the hills, thank the Thirteen.”

  “You could insist on it, but…”

  “I do insist on it, for I have no desire to marry. In any case, your father would never allow you to renounce your name and fortune to become a Destar. While we’re of noble blood and have the mansion to show off, it’s crumbling around us and there’s little gold in the bank. And you yourself, Ned, I know you all too well. You’d never be prepared to surrender forever your servants and beauticians, your tailor-made silks and leathers, your exotic foods, and your fabulous bedroom with that view... How lucky you’ve been, and for so long too! Brindar was wrong to say you should begin to act like an heir. In my mind, you’ve been doing so all your life.”

  My shoulders slumped further. “What are you saying, that I’m a vain, feckless spendthrift?”

  “A kind-hearted, witty, and adventurous one whom I love deeply,” she said, laughing. “But your brother was right about something else too. You should not encourage Kari’s affections further. I would not…”

  “You would not what, Lana?” Kari said. We had not heard his approach and clutched each other in momentary surprise. He stood over us, arms folded with a dark expression on his face. The sweet, wide-eyed guide was gone and with his ice-blue eyes narrowed and shoulders bunched so, he seemed suddenly formidable. I remembered with a shiver that all the Methari monks were trained warriors of Tivi and for the first time since we had left the monastery, I could see him as such.

  Lana stood up. “I would not like to see either of you hurt or unhappy. I will keep Brindar busy for as long as I can, Ned, for I have no place in this conversation now.”

  Kari glared at her retreating back then sat down beside me. “Why are you discussing me in such a manner? And with your brother, too? I thought you wanted to keep quiet about what we’ve been doing in case your brother decides once more to chasten you under his whip.”

  “Lana’s only trying to protect you,” I said miserably, wiping my eyes. “My brother has just informed me that I’m to be married upon our return to Lis.”

  There was a silence as he digested the news. Then the warrior disappeared and my lover returned. He gave me a warm hug which was as welcome as it was surprising. “Tivi’s dagger comes to all who love,” he said, sounding much older than his years and suspiciously like one quoting from a text. “But we must try not to thrust ourselves upon it prematurely at the mere thought of what lies
ahead. Let’s just enjoy the time we have left, my Ned.”

  Instead of bringing me comfort, his words left me feeling even more wretched. I found I could not bear the thought of him forgetting me over time, and some day turning those beautiful eyes to someone else. He smiled at me and tucked his curly hair behind his ears. The solitary ring in his lobe glinted in the dim light.

  ***

  Despite my brother’s reassurances that he was able to proceed normally, we were forced to maintain a slow pace while pretending not to notice the sweat that was starting to saturate the back of his shirt. His armor was once again packed onto the donkey, which appeared to have gained a new lease on life now that its burden had been lessened by the sale of the silks. Before setting off, I’d checked the map in order to steel myself against further miseries but the path we were to take appeared fairly straightforward. A well-travelled trail led from Litmeti through a forested valley, where various small settlements were marked with house-shaped runes. It appeared that we were almost as high in the mountains as we were going to go and that it would be a gentle descent from here on until we reached the ruins of Khar Tam, sandwiched in between spiked peaks of impassable rock.

  Thar Mati lay not far beyond the caverns at the base of the highest mountain in the range, named after the shrine at its feet and flanked by two sheer peaks marked as the “Twin Sisters”.

  “The guardians of Thar Mati,” Kari informed us. “The un-named lands lie beyond them but mercifully the Sisters are a treacherous pair, and it is said to be nigh impossible to gain a foothold upon their slopes. Since the Second Splintering, our outposts and settlements around or near the other passes have proved adept at keeping many would-be invaders out, although small parties can slip by, as we’ve seen.”

  Kel appeared to have regained his enthusiasm for knowledge and gestured to some purple and orange furred rocks to our left. “Look at the wondrous colors of these mosses! I’ve never seen the like. Would that I had the chance to study the sciences as well as theology!”

  I tuned out their chatter, depressed. The subject of my nuptials had not been broached for many years, and I had hoped that my father would give up on such a notion or — even better — drink himself into such a stupor that he would be unable to do anything about it. Perhaps Brin had spurred him into action to spite me since he was forbidden to inherit. Sullenly, I watched my brother limp along, gritting his teeth with effort, and wondered if the world would be a better place if he were to accidentally plunge to his death from one of Methar’s infamous mountain passes.

  “Telthor’s balls! Put a smile upon your face, Ned.” Lana slapped me heartily on the back. Her breath was sour with the aroma of tobacco. “Your father’s choice of bride will have little effect on your life, as well you know. The sole duty of a married nobleman is merely to sire a couple of heirs who may be reared by nannies, as I was. You need not even visit the whelps, should you not wish to. I don’t believe my own father knew when my birthday was.”

  “And who knows?” Kel added with a comforting smile. “You may even grow to care for each other, as my parents once did.”

  “I thank Matativi that I was not born in Lis!” Kari exclaimed, with eyebrows raised. “What of love? Is it too proscribed by the Protectors, in the same manner as necromancy? What a dismal land it must be!”

  Lana laughed. “Only the common people can afford to marry for love, Kari. A marriage of strategy and alliance is the price of a safeguard against loss of power or fortune, and there are few nobles in Lis who are not willing to pay it.”

  I felt Kari’s gaze upon me and shriveled slightly.

  Lana and Kel were just trying to lighten my mood, and I was thankful for their presence. The more I thought upon the matter, the more I realized that they were right. What indeed would marriage change? It was not as if I was not used to sleeping with women for whom I cared little. As long as the wench was not hideous to behold, I felt sure I could do my duty in the bedroom and produce the children my father expected. More importantly, if I was married, I would finally assume my title and my brother would no longer be able to exert any influence over me. It was a pleasant thought I kept to the forefront of my mind, for what lay behind was a land I was not ready to explore.

  I began to tackle the path ahead with renewed vigor. Everything would work out just fine. The fact that I was almost sick with a dread I didn’t truly understand was irrelevant. Feelings would pass, but my destiny would not. It had been written in the stars from the day I was born.

  ***

  We ground to a halt sometime in mid-afternoon when Brin’s pride failed and he sat down hard on the grassy verge of the path. His face was pale and shiny with sweat as he commanded Kel to re-pack the donkey so he would be able to ride it to the nearest Pilgrim’s Rest — Kari assured us that one lay not far ahead — and lie down for the night. I stood beside Kari under the branches of a pine and squinted into the gray clouds above. Thick clouds were rolling slowly down the mountain slopes around us and the air felt moist yet thin and just a little bit difficult to breathe.

  Until now, the snow-capped peaks had seemed almost like proud and benevolent giants, receding as we pressed on along the forest paths to reveal the awe-inspiring beauty of the landscapes ahead. Now the mountains had become impossibly steep and huddled together furtively on either side of us, shrouded in darkened cloaks of rain as if they were whispering secretly among themselves and conspiring to herd unwary travellers into the narrow valley ahead. As the mists rolled down around us we found we could not see further than the few trees that lined the path we stood upon; the stream that followed by our side trickled idly between fallen black boulders and broke to plunge away down from us over dizzying drops.

  Still the blue flowers bloomed where they had seemingly no right to grow, clinging to the black shiny gravel of the mountains’ faces with an admirable determination.

  “I remember this path,” Kari said as we watched Kel heave Brin onto the donkey, which let out a bray of protest. “The Pilgrim’s Rest that lies ahead is quite sumptuous in comparison with what we’ve seen so far. My grandmother told me something of the history of Khar Tam as we spent a couple of nights there. It passed the time well, especially as it rained so hard outside that I thought the whole path would surely be washed away.”

  I wiped sweat from my brow and felt momentarily ashamed that I was so wont to complain, when an elderly woman had taken the same route not a year before and apparently had enjoyed every footstep. “What are these mysteries?” I asked, hoping the answer would distract me from my aching legs and nibbling worries of unwanted wedlock.

  “The Kings and Queens of Old Methar resided there for more than a thousand-year,” he said as we began to walk once more. “But even the last of them knew little of how the city came to be. It was carved by ancient hands into the side of the mountain itself. Even now, though it lies in ruins, it’s truly an impressive sight.”

  Kel was suddenly all ears, aroused from his general weariness at the prospect of another history lesson. “Carved, you say? Fascinating! It was some feat to remain a functional city so far from the shore. Traders must have had a difficult job to reach it.”

  “The un-named lands were not as they are now,” Kari replied. “Before they broke away from us they were known as Methar’s food bowl — the sprawling fertile plains which sustained the city lying just beyond our destination, behind Thar Mati itself. Until the theft of the Treaty which bound the lands as one, the city had been impregnable. Before the Second Splintering, it’s said that not one life was ever lost in Khar Tam’s defense.”

  “Incredible,” Kel mused, as the first drops of rain began to soak into my hair.

  “And the rain greets us once again,” Kari said, and looked at me with a sunny grin. I smiled back, imagining that a few days sheltering in the Pilgrim’s Rest with Kari would not be the worst prospect in the world.

  Chapter 4

  The Pilgrim’s Rest was far from sumptuous but it served well as a sh
elter. It was a sturdy structure on tall stilts with bunk beds inside enough for six. The mattresses were stiff and scratchy with straw poking through, and they smelt of damp. There was a small table and a crude cupboard built into the wall and barely enough room to walk more than eight paces. A box of thick candles and kindling completed the meager furnishings, resting on the cobwebbed floor under Brin’s bed.

  The rain, which had begun as a shower of plump drops hurled from the descending clouds, had become so heavy that it now battered the roof and bounced high off the rocky ground outside. Occasionally it was punctuated with gusts of wind so strong they shook our little shelter almost to the foundations. Outside, the donkey let out occasional miserable brays to remind us of his objections to life in general, tethered as he was in a small rickety stable underneath the cabin, which provided at least some protection against the raging elements. Thankfully, whoever had passed through before us had left some sacks of oats and hay which were only slightly stale and which assuaged our guilt somewhat about the poor creature’s accommodations.

  Some rocks had been fashioned into a cooking hearth near the stable; the wind ensured that any smoke blew away quickly. With so little vegetation growing around us I had worried about Kari’s ability to find food, but it became apparent that he’d been saving the rice, pickles, and strips of dried fish for such an eventuality. Even so, he was able to locate some more succulent roots that were as tasty as their leaves were nondescript, and against all odds, we ate well.

  Much as I’d looked forward to an opportunity to rest, the situation quickly became intolerable. Brin was barely able to walk and spend most of the time lying glumly on his bed with his ball-shaped ankle — now a dark kaleidoscope of grays, purples and yellows — propped up on his precious box. He spoke little, only forced into social contact on the occasions when Lana crouched down on the floor beside him and whispered to him until his face cracked into some resemblance of a smile.