The woman. She must not give up her son. Go into her dreams and convince her, instructed the disembodied voice. The watcher tried to speak and was stunned to find itself powerless.
There is nothing for you to do here. Yet you have named yourself watcher, so watch, the presence said.
The watcher felt a slight jerk and then it was conscious that the windwalker was striding across a grassy slope towards a woman. It was the Chinese woman again, but she was much younger and very beautiful. She was looking to the silver glimmer of the sea, far away. Her hands were clasped about her knees, smooth and pale.
‘Hello,’ Solen said.
The woman turned a startled face to him. Then her eyes narrowed in amazement. ‘Wind?’
‘You know me?’
‘You look as my brother might now look. But no … you are not he. I see that now.’
‘Perhaps it is your brother who has sent me to you,’ Solen said, sitting down beside her. He, too, now faced the glitter of the distant ocean. ‘He said in the matter of the child, you must do as your heart bids.’
The woman rose, shaking her head. ‘My heart? What place has a heart in this world? I have no choice. I must do what is best for the boy.’
‘My Lady, there is always a choice. Only cowards tell themselves otherwise. And how can you know what will be best for the boy in a future you cannot see? You must do what is best for him in this moment. Do you think it is best that a boy loses his mother? I do not, and I should know, for my mother died bearing me.’
‘I do not know what to do …’ the woman whispered, and now tears spilled down her cheeks. She looked at him through her tears. ‘What is your name?’
‘I am Solen,’ Solen said, and he segued.
That was well done, said the disembodied voice.
‘Yes. You did not tell me that you knew the woman.’
She was once my sister, as you guessed, but that is not why I brought you to her. She is more important than she knows. If she gives in to despair, great and unthinkable harm will be done.
‘I do not understand a word you say. You sound like a soulweaver,’ Solen said, but with amused resignation. The watcher felt his certainty that he had brought hope enough to the woman to give her the courage she needed to keep the child.
Then they were back in the Void and the mans consciousness slept.
‘You are Wind Chun Ming?’ the watcher said.
I was. Now I am an agent of harmony. I gave up my identity to be what I am.
‘Why?’ the watcher asked.
I wished to be more than just a man, but I could only achieve that when I gave up being a man. That is a thing that humans must learn. They can not remain what they are and grow beyond it. There is always a sacrifice in growth. Why did you give your soul into the keeping of the Chaos spirit, knowing what might come of it?
‘I had to right a wrong and that was the price,’ the watcher answered. The man, Solen, was again dreaming of the woman he loved. This time, she was curled about the tiny feinna in exactly the same position as Wind’s sister had curled about her child. ‘Is there a connection?’ it wondered.
Of course. All things are connected. But the watcher sensed a wistfulness beneath the lightness.
‘You loved her too,’ it remembered. It was almost an accusation.
Yes. But she had another fate and, in the end, because of loving her, I loved the world and I wanted to heal it. Then I had a dream which offered me a strange, difficult path and I took it, Wind said wryly. At the time, I wondered if I was only mad. And do not pity me, for I have not lost Glynn. She exists and I see her and take joy in the brightness of her spirit and in the radiance of what she becomes. I think she is more than you thought when you chose her, and certainly she is more than she was when I trained her, but even now she is not all that she may become. If she lives.
‘You were wiser than me,’ the watcher sent. ‘I could not give up Shenavyre.’
Wisdom is not always a timely visitor, but it is always welcome.
‘How is it that I can hear you, though the man has returned to himself?’ the watcher demanded, for the mind of the man was solidly within his flesh again.
I do not know. Perhaps it is that a connection has been made between us.
‘It is good not to be alone,’ the watcher admitted.
We will speak again, Ronaall who is part of the man that was once Lanalor. But we must be very careful now. In the meantime, watch over the girl and her sister. The fate of two worlds lies in their hands.
‘What have you seen?’ the watcher demanded, but it was alone in the mind of the dreaming man, who was beginning to wake.
It segued …
19
Truth has a scent that lies at the heart of all other scents. It is the
deepest essence of a thing and so it may be said that an olfactor seeks to
distil the truth that is the essence of all scents.
GIA, AN OLFACTOR MYSTIC
It was not long after Kalinda had risen that Ember left Bleyd to his ablutions and went up on deck. Iridom island was spread before them, closer than ever: a lush, tropical paradise rising gradually from a rim of golden beaches to high, densely forested ranges of mountains which were supposed to be horseshoe shaped, according to the map cloths she had seen. They were approaching the smaller, wedge-shaped end of the island. At first she had been fascinated when land was sighted, but the wild face of the island had gone on and on and in the end she had retreated from the heat of the day to rest in the cabin. But now she could see Iridom city, which sprawled over the floor and walls of a long, wide valley. It was impossible to make out much more than a general impression because, despite the brightness of the day and a brisk breeze, a bleared yellowish smog hung over the town.
‘Not a pretty sight,’ Bleyd observed, coming up behind her. Ember nodded, thinking the same might be said of the Fomhikan. Although his cuts and bruises were well on the way to healing, they looked dreadful, ranging in shade from yellow to bluish purple. And it seemed to Ember that there was still an unhealthy hue to Bleyd’s skin and a brightness to his eyes that made him look feverish. He had also developed a dry racking cough which seemed to be worsening. The sooner they reached Myrmidor the better.
She glanced around to see if Revel was glowering at them as she had seemed to do whenever they ventured on deck during the journey from Vespi, but the shipmistress was busy on the control platform. Ember could not truly blame her for resenting her unwanted passengers, but she had seemed increasingly morose on this leg of their journey and had almost appeared to avoid them. Certainly she had been sharp enough that they had avoided her. Mysel now brought all of their meal trays, and sometimes it had seemed to Ember that he, too, had grown grimmer, though she had come to like the big, gentle-faced man, for all his silences. Or perhaps because of them, she acknowledged wryly.
‘I suppose we should be out of sight when we land,’ she murmured, turning back to Iridom.
‘Not necessarily. After all, the ship log will name us and that will be looked at by some official or other,’ Bleyd said. ‘But if you desire it, Lady, I will escort you below.’
Ember repressed a sigh. Bleyd had slept a good deal of the journey but this morning he had roused himself, insisting on dressing and saying that he might as well test his legs out. To Ember’s annoyance, he had resumed his irritating gallantries with his boots. The sad truth was that she had preferred him when he was scoured to simplicity by pain and despair, though she reproached herself for her callousness, knowing that he was using his attentions to her to prevent himself thinking and worrying about his little brother.
‘Good morning,’ a voice came to them with a hint of the sweet sether oil Hella favoured.
Ember turned to face the Acanthan girl, wishing that they had gone below after all. It had been too much to hope that Hella would not encounter Bleyd before the journey ended, but there was unlikely to be much danger in it. When she had told him about the Acanthan girl, Bleyd had felt su
re that they had not met. He admitted that she might have seen him once or twice when he had visited her sept officially, but it would only have been at a distance and, given that his face was swollen and discoloured, she would be unlikely to recognise him now even if she had seen him.
Hella smiled shyly at him and Ember repressed a sigh, saying, ‘This is my brother, Bendi.’
Hella offered her hand, palm down, as was Bleyd’s. ‘I am Hella of Acantha, Bendi, and I am glad to see that you have recovered enough to have come on deck. The shipmistress told me that you had been attacked. It is a terrible thing that ruffians can operate without restraint even on Vespi.’
‘If I were sure that it was ruffians I would agree,’ Bleyd said, giving her a sheepish smile. ‘I am afraid I may have offended a rival trader by complimenting his bondmate a little too enthusiastically.’
Hella’s eyes widened. ‘Oh.’
‘Oh indeed,’ Bleyd said with mock woe. ‘The important thing is that I have survived my enthusiasm although my handsome face has not.’
Hella gave a startled laugh, and Ember wished that she could simply walk away and leave them to exchange small talk. With luck, Bleyd might transfer his cloying attentions to the Acanthan girl, who was certainly attractive enough to appeal to anyone.
‘Your sister says you have business on Myrmidor,’ Hella said wistfully to Bleyd. ‘I envy her having a brother who shares his life with his sister.’
‘Your brother is a fool not to take you with him everywhere, for such loveliness would certainly addle the minds of rivals and make them easy to fleece.’
Hella blushed but she was smiling when she said, ‘You are teasing me.’
He grinned. ‘Just a little. But I do not lie when I say that you would be an asset. My sister says your sister is on the misty isle.’ He glanced at Ember so meaningfully that she could have slapped him.
Fortunately just then one of the shipfolk began to beat out a landing tattoo on one of the masts where yellow flags and sails fluttered. On Keltan ships, sails were largely decorative since Keltan seafarers had little use for the wind; their own powers could harness the currents of the ocean beneath them, and bend them to aid their journey so there was no need for another energy source.
Thinking of the wind made Ember wonder suddenly if Hella was a windwalker, but before she could ask, Bleyd began to cough violently. When he stopped, there were beads of sweat on his forehead and he looked pale and ill. He made a rather abrupt bow to Hella, excusing himself and saying that he would go below.
‘Brothers,’ Hella sighed when he had hobbled away. ‘I suppose he ought to have stayed in bed.’
‘I had best go and see if he is all right,’ Ember said, worried by the coughing.
Hella looked disappointed. ‘Wait … will you be going ashore? Perhaps we could go together. There are some splendid gemellers here and I …’
‘I must stay with B … Bendi,’ Ember cut her off apologetically, wanting to get below before they got too close to shore.
Crossing the deck to go below, she realised that Revel must not have informed Hella about how brief their stop was to be. Well, she would find out soon enough. A last landward glimpse revealed Iridom a little more clearly, despite the fog. Most of the buildings seemed to be several stories high and made of white stone. Glynn was reminded of buildings on some of the Greek islands.
Passing the watch hut used by crew in inclement weather, Ember was startled to hear Mysel curse. She slowed instinctively, enough to catch a few words, and was still frowning in puzzlement when she entered the cabin.
Bleyd was sitting down on the bed with a wet cloth to his face, but he stood up when she entered. Half irritated by his absurd courtesies, she waved him down and told him what she had overheard.
‘Blast! It sounds very much as if the Iridomi port officials did not receive notification of the change in journey from Vespian officials, so Iridom are not expecting the ship. It sometimes happens. The worst is that it will almost certainly delay us.’
‘Why? Can’t the Iridomi just call to Vespi to sort it out?’
‘They could, but they will not. Revel will probably have to go to the palace and to Coralyn’s assignee to make her explanations. Then an official call will be made to Vespi for confirmation of the change of route. If only this had been discovered before the ship requested to tie up, Revel could have called to Vespi and asked them to notify Iridom port. But now if she tries to contact Vespi herself, the wheels will grind ever more slowly. The matter of the stowaway will only further complicate matters if it is discovered. The Iridomi will make sure of it. I am afraid we may be better to disembark after all.’
‘We can explain that you are sick and cannot go ashore,’ Ember objected.
‘I don’t think we want to advertise my condition here of all places,’ Bleyd said. ‘In fact you had better give me your face paint so that I can disguise my bruises and my face. And you had better prepare to go ashore. I think we should ask Hella to accompany us. A threesome will be safer than the two of us, given that no one will be looking for a trio.’
In the end, it was Bleyd who went to speak with Hella. He looked almost as handsome as ever, once he had covered his bruises with skin-coloured paint. He had then hidden his features under a striking motif of feathers that echoed the blues in the clothes given to him in the white-cloak centre. Oddly, he seemed far more healthy and energetic than he had for some time and Ember wondered a little at this as she donned the yellow dress that Berya had made, unbound her hair and spread it about her shoulders, and arranged the fringed scarf to hide her eyes. Last of all she applied a thick pattern of gold paint in a bar across her eyes and a line down the centre of her nose to her mouth, which she reshaped into a sulky droop. Just as she took the light-red shawl from her bundle, there was a knock at the door.
Bleyd entered. ‘I am sorry if I am too soon but the ship is about to tie up and … By the Horn!’ He stopped dead and stared at her. ‘Your clothes … and your hair!’
Ember realised that she should have expected a reaction for Bleyd had not seen this dress nor her hair properly loose before. ‘I told you I had some clothes made for me on Vespi. I had to bring them or it would have looked odd, but as they were actually made for Iridom, they will come in handy. And before you comment on the brightness of the cloth, the dressmaker thought I was a songmaker.’
‘You look like a songmaker, and the a’luwtha will complete the picture.’
‘I was going to leave it here if we go ashore,’ Ember said.
Bleyd looked shocked. ‘Surely not. Whoever gave it you …’
‘I only felt it would be safer aboard,’ Ember interrupted impatiently. ‘But if you think it wise, I will carry it with me. I gather that you are now sure we have to disembark?’
‘I spoke to Mysel before I went to see Hella. Revel was busy as usual, but Mysel said that she has been ordered up to the palace as soon as we tie up. He said that Revel suggested we go ashore, secure rooms close by and then send word to the ship to say where we are.’
‘Rooms! Are you saying that we will have to stay the night?’
‘At least one night. But Hella was happy to accompany us, and indeed she was halfway to being prepared to go ashore with a small bag. I do not think she realised that we were not supposed to stop for long here.’
‘Do you think the ship is being deliberately delayed?’ Ember asked anxiously.
‘Yes, but not because of us if that is what troubles you. The port officials will be enjoying the idea of being able to reproach meticulous Vespi for negligence and they will drag this matter out for that reason.’
‘You make it sound as if we could be here for days.’
‘That may well be,’ Bleyd said. ‘It is quite likely that no one will see Revel until later tomorrow, so we will probably miss the tide tomorrow. Which means another night at least, and what happens after that will depend upon Revel’s ability to negotiate subtly.’
Ember resisted the urge to groan alo
ud, because if subtlety was required of the sharp-tongued Vespian, they might be trapped on Iridom for weeks. ‘What is the worst possibility?’
Bleyd shrugged. ‘The Stormsong could theoretically be held here indefinitely. But if that happens, we will seek passage on another ship. The only trouble about this is that it would mean going to the port authorities and altering our arrangements, so let us hope that it does not come to that.’
Ember nodded and pushed her brush and face paint into the side of the a’luwtha bag. It bulged awkwardly but she had no other bag. The rest of the clothing could stay where it was. But by the time she turned, Bleyd had efficiently bound up the bundles she had brought and slung them over his shoulder, and it was more trouble than it was worth to have him leave them.
‘What did Hella actually say?’ she asked, checking that her fringe came down low enough.
‘She was pleased, though she did ask how I had managed to recover so swiftly.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘She was distinctly disapproving when I told her that I had taken a stimulant.’
Ember was about to ask if it were true when the lurching of the ship that marked the tethering was stilled. It was time to disembark.
Hella gaped when they met on deck, and several of the Stormsong’s crew stared discreetly. Mysel, however, looked unsurprised, perhaps because he had interrupted her several times playing the a’luwtha. He was conversing with a sombrely clad man whom she guessed to be an Iridomi port official but the man barely glanced at them before turning away.
The yellowish smog that shrouded the city proved to be a hot clammy sort of fog which had dampened the ends of her hair even before she had left the ship ramp. She had forgotten that Iridom was built around numerous hot springs, which were vital to the olfactors, both as a source of energy and also for the heat they produced, which was used to ferment ingredients. It was far hotter than it had been on the deck of the ship and they had not gone far before the yellow dress was clinging uncomfortably to her damp flesh, despite its lightness.