Sanctuary Read online

  To Tobazim, this sculpture of the Celestial City represented the true ideals of the brotherhood. To protect in honour.

  ‘Your presumption deserves punishment,’ Kyredeon said. ‘Oriemn –’

  ‘We invoke the sacred vow,’ Tobazim announced.

  ‘What?’ Kyredeon straightened up.

  ‘We took a vow to protect Malaunje, all Malaunje,’ Tobazim rushed on. ‘Imokara came to us for help. We had no choice.’

  ‘That vow is sacred to all T’En,’ Ardonyx said, picking up his line of argument. Tobazim sensed a little push of power, but wasn’t sure where it had come from. ‘It is why the Malaunje serve us, because we offer protection. We could not dishonour our vow.’

  ‘They speak truly,’ Gift-tutor Deimosh said. Ceyne nodded agreement.

  The others kept their silence, watching the all-father to see how he would react. Kyredeon looked like he had bitten into an apple and found a worm. His eyes narrowed.

  Before he could speak, someone knocked on the door.

  ‘Come in,’ Kyredeon called.

  The Malaunje servant entered, dropped to both knees and delivered the message. ‘Causare Imoshen has called an all-council on her ship.’

  Kyredeon dismissed the messenger with a wave of his hand.

  ‘You can count yourselves lucky,’ he said. ‘But this is not the end of it. Get out.’

  Tobazim came to his feet, dizzy with relief. In the hall, Tobazim’s knees wavered. Ardonyx slung an arm around his shoulders and led him up onto the high rear-deck, where they could speak privately. A Malaunje sailor was at the wheel. He looked relieved to see Ardonyx.

  ‘What just happened?’ Tobazim whispered.

  ‘I think Kyredeon expected you to panic, but you kept your head.’

  ‘I’d rather have a martial gift than a cool head.’

  ‘A cool head may prove more useful, in the long run.’

  ‘I should go back to the cabin and make sure Haromyr doesn’t do something stupid.’

  Ardonyx nodded.

  Tobazim rubbed his face. He felt detached and slightly drunk. ‘From the way Kyredeon reacted, you’d think we’d formed the deep-bonding with a T’En woman and betrayed all our brotherhood secrets to her!’

  Ardonyx looked grim, and Tobazim left him.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘PUT THE BRAZIER here,’ Imoshen told the burly Malaunje, who manoeuvred it into place. She stepped back, closer to Egrayne. ‘We’ll hold the all-council on deck, under the moons and the stars.’

  ‘It’s not like we have much choice,’ Egrayne muttered. The harbour-master had not been pleased with Baron Nitzane’s authority to give them safe harbour, and they were confined to their ships.

  Imoshen grinned. ‘My flagship, my rules.’

  ‘It won’t help you if the brotherhoods declare they have no confidence in you and force another causare election. Even with Chariode’s loss, the all-fathers still outnumber the sisterhoods, eight to six. You can’t win if they unite against us.’

  ‘What are the chances of that?’ Imoshen asked. But they both knew it had happened before. When All-father Rohaayel was about to be executed for breaking the covenant, the all-fathers had sent their hands-of-force to avenge his death.

  And Imoshen had defeated them.

  ‘You never told me how you killed all those gift-warriors,’ Egrayne said. ‘Without training on the higher plane it should have been impossible. Your gift is the ability to read people, it’s not a martial gift.’

  ‘No one has ever asked me how I did it. Why not?’

  ‘We were shocked to learn the all-fathers had sent their hands-of-force. Had it been one or more of the all-mothers conducting Rohaayel’s execution and not you, they would have been killed. We could have had a brotherhood uprising on our hands. Instead, we discovered we had the most powerful sister since –’

  ‘I’m not powerful,’ Imoshen said. ‘When the gift-warriors struck, Rohaayel was as surprised as me. He protected me, killing four of them.’

  ‘But… but his gift was crippled by the loss of his shield-brother.’

  ‘He used the higher plane’s hunger for our power. I’d formed the plane in the shape of my island and he threw himself into the sea, taking them with him. The sea devoured them. I was left trapped on a rock with the waves crashing around us, or so they thought.’ Imoshen shrugged. ‘I knew that every sixth or seven wave was bigger than the rest. I saw it coming and lured them onto a rock that I knew would go under. I let them think they had me. At the last possible moment, I leaped to safety. They were washed to their deaths and the empyrean plane devoured them. I didn’t kill a single one of them. I’m a fraud, Egrayne. All these years, everyone has thought me powerful, but –’

  ‘Using the danger of the empyrean plane is a legitimate duelling technique.’ She squeezed Imoshen’s hand and let a little of her gift warm her. ‘Considering you had no experience of the higher plane, you –’

  ‘Oh, but I did.’ Imoshen was tired of lying. ‘I’d been segueing to the higher plane since I was thirteen. I used to have waking nightmares where reality would shift and I could see the empyrean plane superimposed over this one.’

  Egrayne pulled away. ‘But only gift-warriors have that ability.’

  Imoshen met her eyes. ‘I believe –’

  ‘They’re here, causare,’ Kiane said. ‘Do you want me to keep the all-fathers down on the mid-deck until the all-mothers have arrived?’

  ‘No. Send them up. Have the motherless children wait on the lower rear-deck.’

  The Malaunje unrolled a circular carpet and hung the last of the lanterns. They’d just finished when the first of the sisterhood leaders arrived with their seconds and Malaunje servants.

  Imoshen smiled as Reoden joined her.

  ‘Are you recovered, Ree?’ Imoshen took the healer’s hands and kissed her cheeks. ‘I’ve hardly seen you since we set sail.’

  ‘Blame it on seasickness.’

  ‘You’ve been seasick?’

  ‘No, but everyone else has.’ Reoden grew serious. ‘I saved Tamaron’s life. He and his brothers – all the children of that family – are mine to protect, Imoshen.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of taking them away from you. But…’ She glanced to the healer. The thought of sending Iraayel to the brotherhood tore the heart right out of her. ‘Four boys, Ree?’

  ‘Imoshen, Ree.’ The gift-wright, Ceriane, joined them. ‘No more interesting empyrean wounds for me to heal?’

  The thin gift-wright had helped save Sorne’s life. Imoshen smiled, then sobered. ‘My gift tells me something is wrong with Kyredeon. Is his power corrupting?’

  ‘Not that I’ve sensed, but it would not take much to tip him over the edge,’ Ceriane said.

  ‘What do we do if an all-father’s gift corrupts?’

  ‘Usually, his brotherhood kills him and a new all-father takes his place.’

  ‘What’s this about a new all-father?’ Athazi asked. She glanced to the gift-wright. Athazi had always resented the high stature of Ceriane’s gift. Unaware of this, Ardonyx had assigned them to the same five-masted ship. ‘Has the gift-wright heard something we should all know?’

  ‘No, we were just discussing Kyredeon,’ Imoshen said. ‘Here’s Mel.’

  Imoshen’s gift surged as she read Melisarone. The old all-mother carried a bone-deep sadness within her. Leaving the city where she had spent ninety years had torn out her heart. She would not live long in exile.

  The sisterhood leaders were missing All-mother Parazime, who had been visiting one of her estates when the king attacked. She had been planning to meet them in Port Mirror-on-Sea, but now she would have to travel further south to join them here. Hers was the smallest of the sisterhoods, and Imoshen had given the remaining sisters shelter on her ship. Parazime’s old historian had come to represent her sisterhood in the leader’s absence. The brotherhoods were also missing one leader. All-father Tamaron had been stranded on one of his estates.

  �
�Here come the brotherhoods,’ Athazi whispered, her voice an odd mixture of longing and resentment.

  As the powerful T’En men approached, the sisterhood leaders edged back and Imoshen realised Kiane had held the men back, to give precedence to the T’En women. The all-fathers would resent this reminder of their subservience.

  Despite the cold, the men went bare–chested, to reveal their duelling scars. Their pleated breeches hung low on their hips, held up with jewelled belts. Soft boots and knee-length, sleeveless brocade robes completed their formal costume. Around their necks, they wore their torcs of office, each a work of art inlaid with precious stones, set with their brotherhood symbols. Kyredeon’s symbol was the eye, because the first leader of his brotherhood had been a seer.

  ‘You can expect a challenge tonight,’ Egrayne warned Imoshen softly. ‘We fled the port with our tail between our legs.’

  Imoshen’s gift surged and she read each brotherhood triumvirate as they approached. Kyredeon and his seconds were primed for violence. They radiated anger, which seemed to be directed at the world in general, although its focus narrowed on her when they saw her.

  They were followed by Hueryx, who had stood against her for the causareship. He’d been his brotherhood’s historian. It was unusual for an all-father to come from the ranks of the scholars. More commonly the voice-of-reason was a scholar and the all-father and his hand-of-force both had martial gifts, or all three had the martial gifts.

  The thin all-father was wound tight as a coil and he took a place as far as possible from Kyredeon. That’s right; his brotherhood shared Kyredeon’s ship. Hueryx’s hand-of-force leaned close to say something and the all-father glanced to Imoshen. In that moment she read his intention. He was going to confront her.

  All-father Paragian and his seconds joined them. Paragian had also stood against her for the role of causare. He was popular and it was only because the brotherhoods had split their votes that she had won the role. From Paragian’s triumvirate she sensed determination.

  Brash young All-father Saskeyne and his seconds were one step behind Paragian. She sensed no menace from him, but he had sent his warriors out to steal the banners of King Charald’s army. This had triggered reprisals against their estates. Saskeyne was swift to act and did not consider the ramifications.

  That was all the large brotherhoods, leaving only the four lesser brotherhoods, three more all-fathers and Scholar Hakonnyn, who represented Tamaron’s brotherhood. These three triumvirates were on edge. The lesser brotherhoods were always defending themselves against takeovers by one of the big four.

  The brotherhood leaders shifted, eyeing each other uneasily. Imoshen didn’t need her gift to know the overcrowding on the ships would trigger duels and rekindle old feuds.

  Hueryx drew breath to speak and she knew he was going to challenge her leadership.

  ‘I propose we make a vow for the duration of the voyage,’ Imoshen said, forestalling him.

  ‘What kind of vow?’ Paragian asked.

  ‘No inter-brotherhood or sisterhood rivalry.’ She knew this would please the lesser brotherhoods and protect Hueryx from Kyredeon.

  ‘I support this vow,’ Hueryx said.

  ‘I’d give this vow,’ Paragian conceded, ‘but only if all of us give it.’

  ‘We must be united. Distrust breeds distrust,’ Imoshen said. ‘We must all make sacrifices for the good of the T’Enatuath.’

  The brotherhood leaders stiffened. The jewelled clips that held their long hair in place glinted in the lantern light. Imoshen’s heart sank as she read them. They were too intent on personal stature and the fate of their brotherhoods to see the fate of the T’Enatuath. Although they’d had half a year to come to terms with exile, they did not want to make concessions, let alone sacrifices.

  Once before she had confronted them about this, and now it was time to make her point.

  Imoshen stepped forward.

  The others drew in a collective breath as she took her ceremonial knife from her belt. Reaching around behind her, Imoshen grasped her long plait. The T’En only cut their hair when they believed they were going to die in battle, or when a choice-mother sent her son to his brotherhood. On that day, she cut his hair to symbolise that he was dead to her.

  Imoshen’s hair was down to her knees, but to be truly fashionable, it should have been long enough to walk on. The elaborate styles which took so long to create were a sign of the T’En’s high stature.

  Holding the braid at breast level, she began sawing through her hair.

  ‘With this sacrifice, I mourn the loss of the Celestial City,’ she said. ‘I mourn the loss of the warriors who fell protecting us, and the scholars who remained in the crypts because they could not face exile. I mourn the Malaunje innocents, who were murdered the night the Mieren invaded the city. I mourn our people who did not make it to Port Mirror-on-Sea but were murdered on their estates or on the road. I mourn those who died to defend the wharf when the people of the slums attacked us.’

  Finally the knife severed her hair and she lifted the long plait, holding it in front of her.

  Imoshen walked over to the brazier. Her short, uneven hair sat around her shoulders, stirring in the updrafts from the brazier like a living thing. Her gift sang under her skin, riding a wave of emotion so thick she felt as if she would choke on it.

  ‘Exile is not death, it is a new start. I rename my ship the Resolute because that is what we must be,’ Imoshen said. ‘The T’Enatuath will endure, but to endure we must make sacrifices. Tonight I honour our fallen and, in their memory, I say there must be no more rivalry between the brotherhoods and sisterhoods. We share a common enemy in the Mieren.’

  She dropped her plait into the fire. The sickening smell of burning hair filled the air and she felt their gifts rise. ‘I offer to share my flagship with All-mother Reoden’s sisterhood. And before all of you here tonight, I declare she will not be beholden to me. ’

  ‘I am honoured, T’Imoshen.’ Reoden surprised her by using the causare honorific, which only Egrayne had ever used. When Imoshen met the healer’s eyes, she read admiration and determination.

  Reoden stepped closer. She held out her hand for Imoshen’s knife.

  Imoshen hesitated. Back when they had been secret lovers, she had rolled naked in Reoden’s hair, feeling its gift residue race over her skin.

  ‘Causare.’ Reoden lifted her hand.

  Imoshen passed her the knife.

  Reoden took her long plait and began to cut through it. ‘I honour our fallen. Exile is not death. I vow to turn my warriors only against enemies outside the T’Enatuath. United, we will survive.’

  She was still sawing at her hair when old All-mother Melisarone stepped forward. She had been a warrior before she became a sisterhood leader, and she carried her own long-knife which she used on her hair, as she honoured their fallen. Hers was a small sisterhood, and the ship they had been assigned was one of the smallest: a three-masted vessel, purchased from the Mieren. She named her ship the Hope. ‘Following T’Imoshen’s example, I offer All-mother Parazime’s sisterhood a berth on my ship, without obligation. And I vow to turn my warriors only against enemies outside the T’Enatuath. United, we will survive.’

  Everyone looked to All-mother Athazi. Imoshen could tell she was furious, but the sisterhoods had to present a united front before the brotherhood leaders.

  The plump little all-mother stepped forward. With sharp, vicious tugs, she unpinned her hair and quickly cut through it. She gave the same oath and… ‘I will share my ship with All-mother Ceriane. She will not be beholden to me. I rename my ship the Endurance.’

  Ceriane, the only gift-wright of the T’Enatuath, stepped forward, used the honorific and cut her hair, accepting Athazi’s offer to share the ship. Not by the slightest gesture did she reveal the rift between herself and Athazi.

  Imoshen was proud of her; proud of all the sisterhood leaders.

  Their side of the impromptu ceremony complete, the all-mothers
stepped back. Imoshen looked across the brazier’s leaping flames to the brotherhood leaders. Her gaze went from face to face, until she found All-father Paragian. The day he’d stood against her for the causareship, she’d read him. He had the best interests of their people at heart.

  He swallowed, came forward and beckoned his voice-of-reason. ‘Take down my hair.’

  The styles the men wore were as elaborate as those worn by the women. He stood still as his second unpinned his long hair. This done, Paragian drew his knife. Twisting his hair to form a thick rope, he sawed through it. ‘I rename my ship the Triumphant, because we will not be beaten. As Causare Imoshen has done, I vow to turn my warriors only against enemies outside the T’Enatuath. United, we will survive.’

  Imoshen did not care if the all-fathers refused to use her honorific, as long as they cooperated.

  He rolled up his hair and threw it onto the fire, meeting Imoshen’s eyes across the flames. Paragian cleared his throat. He and Kyredeon had run trading fleets and owned most of the ships the brotherhoods were using. ‘Since All-father Saskeyne’s brotherhood is already sharing my flagship, I say he is welcome and will not be beholden to me.’

  The young all-father looked relieved, if a little surprised. He cut his hair to mourn their dead, accepted Paragian’s generosity and gave his vow. As Saskeyne did this, Imoshen sent Paragian the slightest of nods and looked to Kyredeon.

  The all-father managed to keep his anger contained as he stepped up to the fire and cut his braid. He renamed his flagship the Victorious and offered Hueryx’s brotherhood a place on it. Now, if he broke his vow, he would be foresworn before all of the T’Enatuath’s leaders.

  Imoshen looked to Hueryx. His brotherhood was safe, or as safe as she could make him. Her gift surged and she knew he understood what she had done and why, as he sent her the slightest of nods. He gave his vow, accepted Kyredeon’s offer and sacrificed his hair in mourning.