Besieged (6 page)

‘We entrust a future brotherhood warrior into your care,’ the taller gift-warrior said, as he gave the young mother a nudge.

She undid the sling and parted the cloth to reveal a perfect, naked infant boy, perhaps five days old by the state of the cord.

‘A perfectly formed T’En boy,’ Vittoryxe acknowledged. She stepped forward before Egrayne could claim the honour and held out her arms.

The young mother looked to be no more than twenty. Tears spilled unheeded down her cheeks. Sometimes the Malaunje mothers looked away at this moment. Sometimes they trembled, and their eyes darted about as if they wanted to run or protest. None did, all were too afraid of the brotherhood warriors.

This young woman said nothing, but her eyes demanded much. Daringly, she met and held Vittoryxe’s gaze as she handed the baby over.

Vittoryxe stiffened at the insult. ‘By giving him into our sisterhood’s care you do the best you can for the child.’ Although the words were ceremonial, she sincerely believed them.

The taller of the gift-warriors unrolled a short scroll. He read off the father’s name, giving his rank in the brotherhood so that a choice-mother of appropriate stature could be appointed.

Vittoryxe accepted the scroll. ‘We swear to protect this child with our lives. We swear to rear him to revere the heritage of the T’Enatuath and protect our Malaunje. His details will be entered into the sisterhood’s lineage book.’

The young Malaunje woman swayed and the tall man steadied her.

As soon as he touched her, Vittoryxe sensed the rise of male gift. One or both of the gift-warriors had slipped and lost control. It was only for a heartbeat, but it was enough.

Male power, so different from its female counterpart, registered as sharp and abrasive on Vittoryxe’s senses; she’d never liked it, never felt the urge to arrange a tryst with a brotherhood warrior or scholar. That had been her mother’s failing, a liking for the men and their gifts; for one man in particular, who thought that two trysts meant he owned her.

Anger fuelled Vittoryxe’s gift as it reacted to the threat of the male’s. Banking her power, she took a step back.

The tall gift-warrior flushed. So it was he who had slipped. And now he’d been shamed in front of them. His wine-dark eyes glittered with anger, and the line of his jaw flexed as he ground his teeth.

Vittoryxe’s heart hammered. She was hampered by the infant. If they resorted to violence, Egrayne would have to hold them off.

While Egrayne was strong and combat-trained, the men were also trained and stronger. Egrayne could take one down, perhaps, but not two. To defeat them, she would have to drag both warriors through to the higher plane, where the female gifts were more powerful.

Vittoryxe felt sickeningly vulnerable.

Her gift rose and slipped her control.

Both men inhaled sharply and the scarred one took an involuntary step forward. The tall one grabbed his companion’s arm, while manoeuvring the Malaunje woman behind him.

‘Steady...’ Egrayne said, moving in front of Vittoryxe. Egrayne’s left hand went to her knife hilt, while her right hand gestured for Vittoryxe to stay back.

The two warriors backed up a step.

Vittoryxe did likewise.

Neither side turned their backs on the other, neither relaxed until they were off the bridge.

By the time they reached Arodyti and the others, Vittoryxe’s mouth was so dry she couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted to.

The half-blood wet-nurse accepted the baby. She would care for him until they returned to the sisterhood’s palace and a suitable choice-mother was appointed.

Vittoryxe’s fingers trembled so badly she could barely undo the strap of her saddle bag. Furious with herself, she put the scroll away, fumbled the bag closed and swung her weight into the saddle.

‘What happened?’ Arodyti asked. ‘I thought I caught the scent of male gift.’

‘The father lost control for a moment,’ Egrayne said, mounting up.

Vittoryxe was surprised. But now that she thought about it, Egrayne’s guess was probably correct.

‘If he can’t control himself,’ Vittoryxe snapped, ‘he shouldn’t have come to the ceremony.’

Egrayne glanced at her, but did not make the obvious rejoinder. Which was strange; after all, Vittoryxe’s slip had placed both of them in danger.

She hated losing control. It had nothing to do with witnessing her mother’s murder. The brotherhood gift-warrior was to blame; her gift had simply risen in defence.

‘She was probably his devotee,’ Egrayne added.

‘Devotee?’ Arodyti asked. ‘I thought the T’En weren’t supposed to imprint their gift on a Malaunje. If the males are weaker than us, how–’

‘Anyone can slip,’ Egrayne said. ‘The men–’

‘The men are weak, but their control is also weak,’ Vittoryxe spoke over her. ‘Trust a male to slip and enslave a Malaunje.’ Even as she said this, envy ate away at her. It was frowned on nowadays to make a devotee, but being powerful enough to sustain one certainly added to a T’En’s stature.

‘Come on.’ Egrayne turned her mount.

Intent on putting distance between themselves and the brotherhood party, they rode off.

The rest of their group waited in a clearing filled with shifting, dappled light. A slight breeze stirred the canopy, sending autumnal leaves swirling down around them.

‘It went well?’ the oldest of the Malaunje asked.

‘As well as can be expected.’ Egrayne sounded grim.

Vittoryxe said nothing. She resented the gift-warrior covering for her. What if Egrayne went to Gift-tutor Lealeni and revealed her loss of control? Lealeni was looking for the right gift-warrior to train as her replacement. From gift-tutor it was a short step to sisterhood all-mother, Vittoryxe’s true goal.

Her cheeks burned with shame and frustration.

Egrayne would have the opportunity to betray her tonight, but first they would travel east to a sisterhood winery where they had to collect the gift-tutor. In the meantime, Vittoryxe would have to think up a way to prevent Egrayne reporting her slip, as she was certain she would. After all, why should the gift-warrior protect her? Egrayne was just as ambitious as she was.

When the party reached the top of the next rise, Vittoryxe found Egrayne waiting for her. Her stomach lurched. This was it, the confrontation. While the others rode past, Vittoryxe wished she knew of some transgression she could hold over the gift-warrior to ensure her silence.

Egrayne leant forward in the saddle, elbows resting on the pommel as she stared back the way they’d come. With her long nose and strong jaw, she looked androgynous, like a young T’En man. Vittoryxe wondered if she should seduce Egrayne. It was common for an initiate to form a relationship with an adept as she found her way in the sisterhood. As an initiate, Vittoryxe had made sure all her lovers were useful to her, and she’d never had any complaints. Now that she was an adept, she should be looking for a fellow adept, perhaps someone to link up with as shield-sister. If she chose the right shield-sister, it would empower her as they drew on each other’s gifts, and improve her chances of rising to the top of the sisterhood.

She glanced to Egrayne again, weighing up her usefulness. The idea held some appeal.

And even as she thought this, Vittoryxe saw a reason for Egrayne protecting her. The big gift-warrior desired her. It explained the brooding silence; the way Egrayne watched her when she thought she wasn’t looking.

And to think she’d assumed the big gift-warrior felt threatened by her. This was good, very good.

‘We’re not being followed,’ Egrayne said.

Vittoryxe glanced over her shoulder. The brotherhood party were no longer in sight, lost in the folds of rolling fields. ‘Did you expect them to?’

‘They’re T’En males – all brawn, no brain and full of gift bravado. If one dares another to do something, before you know it, he’s gotten himself killed to impress his peers.’ She looked up at the sky. ‘Not midday yet. We should reach the winery by mid-afternoon. Rather than stay the night, we should collect Lealeni and the lad, and keep going. It’s only three days after winter’s cusp, and both moons are nearly full so there’s plenty of light. I say we keep riding for as long as we can, then make camp for the night. If we’re careful not to overtax the horses, we could make it home in five days instead of six or seven.’

‘Fair enough.’ Vittoryxe agreed. Her lack of gift control niggled at her, and she felt she had to justify herself. ‘He shouldn’t have slipped. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have lost–’

‘Forget it. We all slip sometimes. Your mother’s murder–’

‘My mother had nothing to do with it. She was weak and foolish.’

‘The brotherhood warrior became addicted to your mother’s gift. When she turned down his offer to tryst, he killed her because he could not bear the thought of her trysting with another.’ Egrayne studied her. ‘That was hardly your mother’s fault. And because one T’En man went rogue, it does not mean that all–’

‘All men crave our gifts and hate us because we are more powerful than them.’

‘And we don’t crave their gifts?’

‘I don’t.’

Egrayne raised an eyebrow.

‘I don’t. I want nothing to do with them.’

‘How can you say you don’t crave the male gift, if you’ve never –’

‘I’m not going to put myself in harm’s way. There were two of them, both gift-warriors and probably shield-brothers. The danger was not in my imagination.’

‘No...’

Vittoryxe was reminded how Egrayne had risked her life to protect her.

‘Do you aspire to become the hand-of-force?’ Vittoryxe’s mind raced. If Egrayne filled that role, it would put her out of the running for sisterhood all-mother. ‘You’d be excellent. You’re as big as a man. You’re smart. And you have a way with the young warriors-in-training, both T’En and Malaunje. They admire you. They’d die for you.’

Egrayne gave her a quick look as the colour crept up her pale cheeks.

Without saying a word, the gift-warrior urged her horse to catch up with the others. For a heartbeat, Vittoryxe thought she might have over-played her hand.

‘I aspire to survive,’ Egrayne called over her shoulder.

Vittoryxe shivered. Egrayne was older than her, and had already fulfilled her gift-warrior vow, risking her life to protect this reality from the higher plane. Vittoryxe had trained, but had not yet made her first kill. Not that she wasn’t willing. It was just that predators did not escape the empyrean plane often. When they did, the task of capturing them before they could kill, and dragging them back to the higher plane, was dangerous enough that many gift-warriors had died glorious deaths over the years.

Vittoryxe had no intention of dying, gloriously or otherwise. She was meant for greater things.

Sisterhood all-mother had been her goal since childhood. But now that she thought about it... Maybe even causare.

She whispered the words aloud to see how they felt. ‘Causare Vittoryxe. Embodiment of the cause.’

The thing was... they didn’t have a cause to fight for.

The T’Enatuath hadn’t elected a causare since Imoshen the Negotiator led the brotherhoods and sisterhoods into the final battle against King Charald the Peace-maker.

Back then, it had taken the threat of annihilation before the all-mothers and all-fathers had put aside their rivalries and elected a causare, and Imoshen had stepped down as soon as the treaty was signed.

Still, she was remembered as the greatest all-mother since her namesake, Imoshen the Covenant-maker. Ambition burned in Vittoryxe’s chest, stirring her power, forcing her to practise the gift control exercises as if she was still an initiate, and not an adept of four years.

Vittoryxe hung back from the main party, with the excuse that she was protecting the rear. Meanwhile, she dreamed of becoming Causare Vittoryxe.

But this would only happen if she was all-mother of their sisterhood and their people were threatened. She almost wished they were, so she could rise to the occasion, prove herself worthy and secure her place in history.

Chapter Five

‘H
E LIVES
!’ R
OHAAYEL
spun around to hug Ardeyne, pulling Irian into their embrace. ‘My son lives!’

Rohaayel’s gift brushed against Irian’s senses, making colours sharper and scents stronger. He laughed, and suddenly they were all laughing.

The newborn wailed again.

Without another word, Rohaayel ran back to the clearing where the Malaunje had taken a case of the brotherhood’s best white off the cart and were pouring drinks to celebrate.

‘To the future!’ Rohaayel said, lifting his goblet.

Irian drained his wine. He wanted to know what Rohaayel and Ardeyne were hiding from him, but now was not the time to pursue it. Let the all-father celebrate; all too soon, he would have to relinquish his son to a sisterhood.

Rohaayel accepted congratulations, his attention still on the tent. Any moment now, the Malaunje warrior would come out with the child to show him off.

But the tent flap remained closed.

The happy voices gradually faded.

The longer the delay, the more likely something was wrong. A T’En child born of two Malaunje parents had a better chance of being born whole and of sound mind than a T’En babe born of T’En and Malaunje parentage.

The tent flap opened and the warrior appeared. Tiashne seemed shaken. She had killed in defence of their brotherhood. If the sight of the baby had disturbed her, then the news was dire.

Rohaayel headed for the tent. Ardeyne and Irian followed. They were his seconds. With their support, he had won the brotherhood. They would protect his back, even die for him, but they could not protect him from the heartbreak of a deformed son.

Inside the tent, the air was rich with the scent of blood and sweat. Tiashne led them through to the small, private chamber, parting curtains to reveal...

‘Mariska.’ Rohaayel ran to her side and dropped to his knees. His devotee lay propped up on cushions, with the newborn tucked in the crook of her arm. Exertion had darkened her copper hair, but her eyes blazed with pride and excitement.