The Lesser Kindred (ttolk-2) by Elizabeth Kerner
"I thank you, Lady," I said, bowing to her in the strange human fashion. It still felt stilted and somehow wrong, but with practice I was becoming better at it.
"Thank me later. Lanen is going to kill us if we don't get back to the stables," said Rella.
"This instant," said Lanen.
Lanen
We stumbled into a jog-trot as we hurried back. It took us only a few moments to come level with the paddock. As we drew closer I could hear the horses running out their fear, and there was a steady stream now of people—some leading out terrified horses from the other barns, some carrying blankets, some bringing warm water and hot mash, come to bring what comfort they could to the creatures out in the cold. I stopped someone—for the life of me I can't remember who—and told them to start moving the yearlings and the pregnant mares into the summer barn up the hill, it was drafty but it was shelter. They told me Jamie had already told them to do so and when I looked closer I saw a slow line of half-panicked horses being led farther away from the fire, the noise and the smell of the burning.
As we drew nearer to the stead the noise grew louder and the smoke grew thicker, and the smell—dear Goddess, the smell of burnt hair and flesh and hide, it was everywhere, thick and sickening, catching in the throat. My stomach roiled with it but I did not stop, in case there was anything I could yet do. Then above other sounds came what I thought for a moment were the shrill screams of a last dying horse trapped inside the stable. I started shaking, but Varien held me up and told me, "It is the wood, dearling. Believe me, it is the wood." He was right, the sound changed a little and I recognised it as the gigantic version of those strange high-pitched sounds that you sometimes get from a log on a fire. The thick beam of the rooftree cracked as we arrived and I could feel the sound in the soles of my feet. The timber made a terrible racket as it burned, sometimes high-pitched, sometimes low as a ramble of thunder, as if the wood itself were in agony.
I was in the lead when we entered the ordered confusion of the courtyard. It turned out later that my cousin Walther had run a ladder up to the roof of the tack room—the room nearest the fire—and had thrown off the roof tiles, cut a gap in the beams with an axe and thrown water on whatever he could see. He got himself pretty badly burned and the roof had collapsed at that end of the stable, but it was he who had stopped the fire from spreading to the other buildings round about. His lady Alisonde was tending his arms now as he stood in the courtyard shouting orders. The rest of the horses had been taken out and away, and the few of us who were left did what we could, but there was only so much to do. The surviving horses were as well taken care of as we could manage until morning, and the house was safe. We threw buckets and buckets of water on the nearby buildings and doused the sparks that flew in the blessedly light wind, but in the end we could only let the fire burn itself out. Mercifully the trapped horses had died long since, but no one even tried to sleep. Every soul from the stead stood there in the cold, watching until the last of the flames faded just before morning light. The blackened beams glowed demon red from within, and the hot stones cracked loudly as they cooled.
When the walls had grown cool enough and the last of the embers was put out, and we could bear to go inside the ruin of the stable, we found that we had lost eleven of the twenty-four horses. Yet again I felt bile flood the back of my throat at the sight and the smell, that acrid, hideous smell: it hung in the air and clung to my clothes and my boots and the back of my throat, so that I feared I would never be rid of it. By that time, though, we were all so exhausted by sorrow and anger that it felt somehow as if it was happening to someone else, and even the sickness that threatened could not overwhelm.
Jamie was only a little better than me. I had seldom seen him so grim, but when he spoke he surprised me. "It could have been much worse, my girl," he said, standing in the ruin of the ashes, staring at nothing. "I've been through a stable fire before, many years ago, when I lived in the East," he said, and I knew the rough edge to his voice had nothing to do with weariness. "We lost a lot more than half of them that time. Damned if I know what it was, but just before the fire took over at the last, I'd swear that something drew a lot of them out of that barn last night."
Varien said quietly, "Let us be grateful for that mercy, at the least." I wanted to tell Jamie what Varien had done, but I knew my dear one was right to keep silent. How should he claim to have helped with truespeech when there was no proof to any but the two of us?
Meanwhile the morning was wearing on. I went to help Alisonde set about making food and hot drink for everyone, while Jamie and the others saw to the surviving horses, made sure they were fed and warmed and made as comfortable as they could be. The stablehands began the long and grisly job of clearing the burned stable down to the stone. The Healer from the nearest town, who had been sent for at dawn and had finally arrived, began to treat those who were in most need, starting with Walther.
Varien was next. We took the bandage off and the Healer put forth his power willingly, saying as he did so that simple cuts responded far better than burns did, but after just a moment he stared at Varien's arm.
Nothing was happening.
He drew a deep breath and tried again. I had watched Healers working several times and was used to the way the blue glow around them seemed to go into the wound. But it didn't now, not on Varien.
"Have you ever been to a Healer before?" he asked Varien, who of course said he hadn't. The Healer frowned. "I have heard of such things, but I have never come across one such as you. I fear, good sir, that you are a rare case. I have heard of those who cannot be touched by the healing power, and it seems that you are one of them. Thank the Lady you are not too desperately wounded." He leaned over and smelled the salve that Rella had provided. "You are using the right simples, and with time you will heal as well as any—pray forgive me, good sir, but I can do nothing for you, and others require my care." He bowed and moved on to the next who needed his help.
The poor horses that had burned to death were to be buried in one deep grave not far from the north side of the main stead buildings. It was a huge pit, wide and deep, and it took every kind soul who had come from the village to help dig it. With all of us working like madmen it was finished that very afternoon, and the dreadful burned bodies, mercifully covered with rough burlap, were lowered into it as carefully as possible. I had learned that my Shadow, my little mare, had been trapped in the fire. When I thought back I remembered someone shouting something about her, but I had been too distracted to pay much attention at the time. Coward that I am, I was desperately grateful that I could not see through the burlap and did not know which of the shapeless bundles covered her.
It wasn't until we were filling the earth back in that I realised I had been crying gently most of the time. Shadow had been with me for so many years, a friend in a world where friends were scarce. So many of the horses had been under my care, so many I had known and ridden, taught and learned from—so many lost. Oh, Shadow, ever my willing companion. Sleep soft, dear friend. I will miss you.
When the last of the earth was laid on the mound, Jamie came and put his arm around my waist and looked up at me, his red-rimmed eyes locked on mine. I slipped my arm about his shoulders and we turned and walked back to the house together without a word.
I introduced Jamie to Rella in a brief stolen moment, but he didn't hear our full story until that night, when Rella had gone to sleep and the three of us sat exhausted around the kitchen fire. After we had told him what had happened the night before, he demanded to hear everything I knew about her, which I soon realised wasn't much. "We met on the Harvest ship, on the journey out," I told him. "I looked after her when she was poorly and we started talking. We shared a tent at the Harvest camp, when the whole ship's complement was out gathering lansip every waking moment, but I still didn't know much about her until I was in Marik's power. She told me then that she is a Master in the Silent Service, and that Marik was far too bound up with demons for anyone's good.
"The Silent Service. I see," said Jamie, distantly.
He saw a lot more than I did. I had heard of the Silent Service only once or twice in my life. They are based in Sorun, the great city on the bend of the River Kai. They are the reason for the other half of the saying about the famous port city of Corli: "If you want to know anything, go to Corli; if you want to know everything, go to Sorun." It was said they would find out anything or anyone for a price.
Jamie just stood there, thinking. I couldn't stand it. "For goodness' sake, Jamie, she saved my life again last night!" I said.
He turned to me. "Yes, I know, but I don't know why."
My turn to be surprised. "What?"
"Members of the Silent Service don't give away the time of day if they're standing beside a sundial. Why is she here?"
I frowned at him. "In case you had forgotten, Varien and I saved her life in Corli."
"Yes, and she had saved yours already, helping you escape Marik, calling in the dragons—why, Lanen? Always find the source. Who is paying her fee?"
I realised in the midst of being surprised at his attitude that I was up against my ignorance again. "She couldn't just be a kind soul who's worried about—hmm. I see what you mean." I thought for a moment. "In any case, she certainly saved my life last night. Our lives. Whoever it is wants me living."
"So did Marik," said Jamie tightly. I shivered.
"She can't be working for Marik, she helped me get away from him—"
"No, I never thought that. It's not Marik she's working for. But until we know who it is," he said, taking me by the shoulders, "please, Lanen, a little caution."
I nodded, chastened by my blind acceptance of Rella's goodwill. She was no part of me, true enough, why should she risk her life? Find the source ...
I was torn. I generally trusted Jamie's instincts, but he had not been with us on the Dragon Isle. I was convinced deep down that Rella's heart was true. The Kantri would not have trusted her as they had, Kedra would not have admired her, had she wished me ill.
Varien and I both slept like rocks that night, the night after the fire, and did not wake until midmorning. We rose groggily and met with Jamie and Rella at breakfast. Jamie had posted triple guards round the stead during the night just in case, but they saw and heard nothing.
"I hear that I must thank you for saving Lanen's life, mistress," said Jamie to Rella. "I did not know it in all the confusion yesterday. I owe you a great debt."
"Nothing so great that another cup of chelan and more porridge won't go a long way to pay it," said Rella easily. "I'm starving. That was rough work last night."
"And how long will we have the pleasure of your company?" asked Jamie politely. Well, he tried to sound polite. It has never been one of his strong points. On Jamie it just sounded suspicious.
"I hadn't thought that far, I fear," she replied cheerfully. She looked to me and nodded. "I came here wanting to repay these two for saving my life. I seem to be halfway there at least."
"Well past, Rella," I said, "for we would have both been lost without your help."
"You may consider the debt paid, my girl, but I don't. Not yet. And as I appear to be a free agent at the moment, I will be glad to assist you whatever you decide to do." She looked to Jamie. "If that is acceptable to you, Master. I can see you don't trust me, I'm used to it—a crooked back tends to worry people, after all—"
"Nothing to do with that," said Jamie roughly. "Lanen tells me you're with the Silent Service. I never heard that such people were ever free agents."
Rella laughed at that, loud and long. "Ah, I see! And here I was blaming my poor back for making me look suspicious. No, Master, I won't ask you to trust me, but we are allowed time off from our duties, and I truly owe this pair for my life several times over. Did Lanen never mention her ability to use Farspeech?"
Jamie looked wary. "She has said something of it."
"Or that she used that ability to save the whole ship from a demon-spawned disease as we returned from the Dragon Isle? No, until I have repaid my debt I shall keep these two company, either with them or following them. For unless I miss my guess, they are not long for this place."
"You're right," I said before Jamie could speak. "We have talked about it and we both think its time to get moving."
Jamie opened his mouth to object but he soon shut it again. I could only guess why, but it seemed clear to me that Rella would be either with us or behind us no matter what we did. When I put it to him later he said he'd rather have her under his eye than wandering about on her own. However, for now he seemed willing enough to accept Rella's presence and did not insist that she leave before we discussed matters. I was relieved at that, for she had proven her worth and her intentions to me both on the Dragon Isle and in that fight in the dark, when she had only to leave us to our fate if she intended us ill. I still could not believe ill of her, and if she still felt that she owed us a debt I was very glad of her assistance.
We had quite a council of war. Jamie wanted Varien and me to stay put in a defensible place, but I did not want to risk the lives of our people and the rest of our horses if I was the one the mercs were after. The argument got quite heated about then. It didn't help that despite a night's sleep we were all still exhausted.
"What do you hope to gain by our staying here, Jamie?" I demanded, finally. The four of us, Varien, Jamie, Rella and I, were sat around the kitchen fire drinking chelan and trying desperately to stay awake and make some kind of sense of things. "If whoever it is really wants me, Jamie, they know now where I am and they can send more and more men until either we're all burned alive or they get what they want. I'd rather lead them a chase and make sure Walther and Al-isonde have a chance to rebuild than just sit here and let them find new recruits." I turned to Rella. "Do you have any idea whose men they are, or how many of them there are?"
"Only an inkling," she said. She seemed the least affected by the lack of sleep, and was calmly sharpening her knives, some of which she had reclaimed from the site of our battle in the dark. There were quite a few of them. "I followed them for a few days, since we were both coming this way. There were eight of them until yesterday. We buried three this afternoon. That leaves five, not really enough even for desperate and angry men to want to attack a stronghold. But the longer we leave it, Master, the sooner they'll find reinforcements and be back."
"And what if they find those reinforcements and come upon us on the road?" asked Jamie angrily. "A man who would use fire would do anything. It's forbidden, even to assassins. It's too wild, it can do too much damage. Only rank outlaws would even think of using it."
"I think Rella's right, Jamie," I said quietly. Something about her words had struck a chord. "I think they may be that desperate. You know, for the most part Marik didn't use force on me, he used amulets and demons. If whoever hired these men is a demon master, maybe those bastards aren't just working for money. I would guess that demon masters can take quite a price for failure."
"That's what I was thinking, lass," said Rella, impressed. "But such men almost always have protective spells for themselves. These ones died fast. A simple knife wouldn't touch the demon-protected."
"Such men never protect their tools," spat Jamie. "I still say they could find us and kill us all and still get Lanen."
"Us?" I asked, surprised. "I thought we were talking about Varien and me."
Jamie snorted. "And how long do you think you two would last on the road with this kind of idiot after you, eh?" he asked angrily. "I let you go once, to my sorrow. I'm not letting you out of my sight again until all this is done."
"Jamie, you—"
"I'll brook no argument, my girl." He put his hand on mine and challenged me with his gaze: his resolve showed in his eyes, strong and sharp as steel. "You are the only daughter I ha
"I would not gainsay you, Jameth," said Varien quietly. "In truth I welcome your offer, for if you had not made it I would have asked it of you."
"Good," said Jamie shortly. "Then perhaps you will listen when I say we should stay here."
Rella narrowed her eyes. "You know, Master, if I didn't know better I'd say you were frightened."
"Know better, then, woman," growled Jamie, rising from the bench and starting to pace. "I hate those bastards more with every breath I take, but I was not there to protect Lanen last night. They got past me, the seven-times-damned sons of bitches got past me." He began to pace, his feet pounding into the floor, shaking the boards. I had seldom seen him so angry; you could feel it corning off him like steam. "They took her from under my nose, Mistress Rella. I'm getting old and slow and stupid. It never occurred to me they'd use fire just for a diversion. The bastards got past me and I never noticed until you brought her back to me. She might have been gone forever and I'd never have lifted a finger to stop them. May all the demons of all the Hells find them some dark night"—he whirled on me—"and you want to go out into the depths of winter, just the three—"
"Four," said Rella quietly.
"Just the—four of us to face the rest of them and whoever is behind them! I never thought I'd raised an idiot, my lass, but I'm beginning to wonder."
I was growing angry myself—I can barely hold back my temper at the best of times—but it was Varien who spoke. "For a people who do not truly breathe fire, you manage to come very close."
"Hah," muttered Jamie.
"Do not let your guilt overcome your good sense, Jameth. You are mistaken in this and you know it. We must leave, publicly and very soon. You must not let your fear blind you to truth."