The Diamond Isle

4

It was starting to snow.

‘We should have brought horses,’ Caldason grumbled.

‘We’re nearly there now. Besides, you want to stay fit, don’t you?’

‘I can think of more pleasant ways of doing that.’

Serrah Ardacris smiled. ‘Keep your mind on the job at hand, Reeth. And stop changing the subject. We were discussing Kinsel. What are we going to do about him?’

‘ You were discussing Kinsel. I’m not convinced.’

‘He’s out there, Reeth.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘I’ve heard Kinsel sing; you haven’t. It’s not something you forget. Believe me, it was him.’

‘You’ve got to admit it’s a bit unlikely.’

‘What’s so unlikely about it? Kinsel’s galley was lost. Why shouldn’t pirates have been responsible?’

‘It was a fair way from here.’

‘So? That’s what ships are for, isn’t it? Getting people from one place to another.’

‘But why would he be singing?’

‘Are you having a particularly dimwitted day? I don’t know why. Perhaps somebody forced him. Maybe it was his way of identifying himself. It doesn’t matter; but what we do about it does.’

Caldason grinned. ‘You really do think it was him, don’t you?’

‘ Yes! That’s what I keep saying, for pity’s sake. Look, Reeth, if there’s even a slim chance I’m right we have to do something, don’t we? We owe him that much.’

‘Yes, of course we do. I’ll talk to Darrok about it, and the council.’

‘We need a plan.’

‘We’ll have one.’

She reached for his hand. ‘Thanks, my love.’

It was twilight and the chill winds were biting. The sky was leaden, and just beginning to shed its burden of snow.

They were in the Diamond Isle’s interior. The path they trod was ill-maintained, like most of the rundown pleasure resort’s walkways. Some of the buildings they passed had fallen into ruin after years of neglect. Others were intact and functional, but as many of them had been designed for purely recreational purposes they were little use as island defences. Serrah and Caldason had seen them so many times they hardly noticed anymore.

‘We should try to get word to Tan about Kinsel,’ Serrah suggested, negotiating a ridge of frozen mud.

‘That could be hard. This place is practically blockaded. The pirates, the empires or all three seem to be stopping most of the glamoured messages we send. Not to mention how low our store of magic is. It wouldn’t be easy convincing the council to use any on our behalf.’

‘I know the problems, Reeth. We should still try.’

‘Wouldn’t it be better to wait until we’re sure? Give it until we have more than just your certainty about it?’

‘Let’s not go there again.’

‘I’m serious, Serrah. We could be building up Tanalvah’s hopes without cause.’

‘If I were in her position, waiting to hear about you, I think I’d want to know. Would it hurt so much to give her a straw to clutch at?’

‘It could, if the hope’s groundless. We should think on this. Besides, we don’t even know if she’s alive.’

‘She’s alive, Reeth. Tan’s a survivor.’

‘I’ll talk to some people about it. Anyway, we’re nearly there.’ He nodded to indicate the towers marking their destination, which were starting to show above the hill they climbed.

Minutes later they had a clear view of the structure the rebels grandly referred to, not without irony, as their central redoubt.

Built as a guesthouse for rich visitors, it was the tallest building on the island, very large, and fashioned sturdily enough. There were half a dozen towers, winding battlements and an extensive flat, walled roof. There was even a portcullis, and a moat, now dry and clogged with leaves. However, its appearance didn’t reflect its substance; it had been made to look like a castle rather than be one. Its stone cladding was for show and unlikely to withstand a concerted battering. The doors and windows were equally deceptive in terms of their strength.

Caldason would never have chosen such a place as a fortress of last resort, or approved its location, but it was all they had. The coastal hill fort had been constructed from scratch. It took so much in the way of time and resources that the same couldn’t be done for a central redoubt. The rebels had no choice but to beef up this mock bastion.

Hordes of people were swarming over and around the scaffolded building. They created a din with hammering, sawing, and felling trees for timber. Wagons queued with loads of stone to toughen the ramparts, while mortar was being mixed in giant vats.

Serrah and Caldason made their way down the side of the hill, exchanging greetings with the workers.

‘There’s Zahgadiah and Pallidea,’ Serrah said, pointing.

The one-time owner of the island was hard to miss as he floated on his glamoured dish, inspecting a score of blacksmiths pounding iron on a row of anvils. His leather-clad female companion walked beside him, almost as conspicuous with her waist-length flaming red hair.

Darrok hailed them in typically gravel-voiced fashion. Pallidea merely nodded.

‘Let’s get away from this racket,’ Darrok mouthed.

They followed his hovering saucer along the side of the wall until the noise faded to a tolerable level. The sky was noticeably darker and snowflakes were growing more abundant.

‘How’s it going?’ Caldason asked.

‘Not bad,’ Darrok replied, surveying the scene. ‘But there’s a hell of a lot more to do yet.’

‘Just like everywhere else on the island. How long before it’s finished do you think?’

‘Couple of weeks. Maybe longer.’ He turned his attention to Serrah. ‘We haven’t had a chance to talk since we beat off the raid, have we?’

‘When do we ever?’

‘I just wanted to say it was a great plan of yours to use dragon’s blood against Vance’s men. It really turned the fight in our favour.’

‘I can’t take the credit; I got the idea from the Resistance back in Bhealfa.’

‘You’re too modest, Serrah.’

‘Dragon’s blood?’ Pallidea said. It was a rare utterance from Darrok’s normally taciturn bodyguard-cum-lover.

‘The stuff that caused the blasts,’ Darrok explained. ‘It’s a powder that explodes on contact with water. Serrah brought some in with her, and came up with a way of making it work; an ingenious little water-filled pouch with a breakable container inside for the powder. And before you ask; it’s just called dragon’s blood.’

‘Very funny,’ his mistress responded dryly.

‘Is there any left?’ Caldason asked.

Darrok shook his head. ‘Not much. I’ve got our wizards trying to make more.’

‘Zahgadiah,’ Serrah said, ‘you heard that singing during the raid, didn’t you?’ Caldason sighed. She shot him a glare.

‘Yes,’ Darrok said, ‘I heard it. Reeth mentioned you thought it was Kinsel Rukanis.’

‘Right.’

‘I went to a concert he gave once, somewhere. Gath Tampoor, I think.’

She leapt on the possibility of confirmation. ‘So do you think it was him we heard?’

‘Damned if I know. Tin legs, tin ear, that’s me.’ He rapped his thigh, raising a muffled clang. ‘Never did have much of an appreciation of music.’

‘Why did you go to one of his concerts then?’ Her tone was mildly exasperated.

‘It was a place to be seen. That’s important for a man in my position. Or it was until I got stuck out here with you ragtag insurgents.’

‘I notice you haven’t left,’ Caldason observed wryly. ‘It’s not too late to get out even now, you know.’

‘So you keep saying. Want to get rid of me?’

‘No, but it’s not your fight. You shouldn’t feel compelled to stay.’

‘Forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do isn’t easy, Reeth. And as I understand it, it wasn’t your fight either at the outset. No, I think I’ll stay. For now, at least. I’ve a certain curiosity about how things will turn out. Anyway, I always did favour the underdog and hopeless situations.’

Caldason smiled. His initial opinion of the man had been turned on its head these past few months.

‘This is all beside the point,’ Darrok continued, ‘and I’ve got something to tell you. As you know, we decided to undertake the island’s first census. Well, not much more than a headcount really, but we just got the tally and I thought you’d find it interesting.’

‘I certainly would,’ Serrah confirmed.

‘The survivors of the Great Betrayal who managed to get here, including you, Reeth and Kutch, along with the Resistance pathfinders already installed and my people, amounted to just under two and a half thousand. We’ve lost a little short of a hundred since to pirate raids and natural causes. But we’ve gained, too. In the weeks after you arrived we had quite an influx of stragglers. Near as we can tell, the total now stands at a bit over three thousand seven hundred.’

‘That’s more than I expected,’ Caldason admitted.

‘Me too. And we’re still seeing the odd boatload coming in, though it’s a trickle now as getting here’s so dangerous.’

‘How does that figure break down?’ Serrah asked.

‘Unbalanced. Which could be a problem for the future. Assuming this place has a future. Approximately two thousand six hundred are men. Women amount to just about an even thousand. The remaining hundred are children, including babes in arms. Good news on the men is that all but around sixty of them are in their prime and capable of fighting.’

‘Do you have any idea how many people it’d take to defend this place?’

‘From a full-scale invasion of the island by either empire? Oh, about twenty to thirty thousand. Minimum.’

‘Damn their eyes!’ Serrah spat.

‘Who?’

‘Whoever it was who betrayed the Resistance and put us in this position.’

‘I think we’d all go along with that.’

‘If we live through this, and if I ever find out who did it, I’ll enjoy cutting their fucking throat,’ she vowed. ‘Slowly.’

‘You might have to stand in line,’ Darrok advised.

Caldason steered them back to the question of defence. ‘But the force we have can hold off the pirates, can’t it? Assuming they don’t attack in greater numbers than they have been?’

‘Probably.’

‘And we’ve had no word of Rintarah or Gath Tampoor mustering invasion fleets?’

‘As far as we know they’re not. Though we’re basing that on reports from latecomers drifting in, of course. We can’t be sure.’ He regarded Caldason quizzically. ‘What’s your point?’

‘If I don’t act soon I’ll never finish what I started.’

‘The Clepsydra,’ Serrah stated flatly.

He nodded.

‘Is this the right time, Reeth?’

‘It may be the only time.’ He saw the anxiety in her eyes. ‘This is really important to me, Serrah.’

‘You don’t have to tell me that. I’m just wondering how practical it is. A lot’s changed since you learned about the Source.’

‘Not for me.’

‘How can you be sure this Clepsydra thing isn’t a myth?’ Darrok chipped in.

‘I can’t. But it’s the only chance I have of a cure.’

‘Do you know how to find it? Or how it’ll lead to the grimoire or whatever it is you’re looking for? As I understand it, the Clepsydra’s on an islet, not much more than a speck in the ocean, along with a hundred others.’

‘Phoenix showed me maps. I think I can find it. As to the Source, whatever it may be…I’ll just have to take my chances with that, too.’

‘Nobody could stop you, of course, and I certainly wouldn’t want to. But you’re going to have to persuade the council to spare a ship and a crew. That’s unlikely in present circumstances, I’d say.’

‘I can be very persuasive.’

‘I’m so afraid you’ll be disappointed,’ Serrah said.

‘More than I have been?’ He softened, smiled. ‘Until just lately.’

She brightened, and smiled back.

‘You’ll be going together?’ Pallidea wondered.

Serrah looked to her man. ‘Reeth knows better than to try it without me.’

Darrok gave a gritty laugh. ‘Never thought I’d see you blush, Serrah.’

She made a suggestion concerning where he could put his hovering saucer, bringing a grin to Pallidea’s lips, a rare sight.

The snow was getting heavier. Somebody had planted a scorpion insignia on top of a nearby hillock, and the green pennant fluttered noisily in the bitter wind.

‘Whatever you decide, Reeth,’ Serrah declared, wrapping her cloak tighter, ‘you know I’ll back you. But I hope we can do something about Kinsel first.’

‘I won’t go until we do.’

‘Good. You know, Tanalvah told me something about Kinsel from when he was a boy that I’ve never mentioned to you. His father was arrested by the authorities. Some trumped-up charge, apparently. They forced him into slave labour, and then the army. It killed him. And it really struck me, and Tan too, I think, how that’s so similar to what’s happened to Kinsel himself. Like father, like son. Only we can’t let him end up the same way, can we?’

‘He deserves our help,’ Darrok decided. ‘You and I should talk this over, Reeth.’

‘That was my thought. Tell me, assuming it is Kinsel out there, and Vance has him, what do you make of the singing?’

‘Oh, you’d be surprised. For a man who acts like a savage, Vance has some unexpectedly cultured tastes.’

‘You think he’d be indulging them during a raid?’

‘You don’t know him, Reeth. He’s perfectly capable of something like that. To add a note of drama to the proceedings perhaps, though the gods know they seemed dramatic enough to me at the time. Or to cosset himself against our victory. He’s unpredictable. He could simply have been taunting us.’

‘You mean he might know about the connection between us and Kinsel?’

‘Who can say? After time on a galley, and left to Vance’s tender mercies, your friend might be made to reveal anything.’

‘The CIS’s torturers couldn’t break him. Or the paladins.’

Darrok raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m impressed. A brave man.’

‘I’ve often wondered,’ Serrah said, ‘why they sentenced Kinsel to the galleys rather than just executing him.’

‘You need to understand the nature of our rulers,’ Darrok offered. ‘It could have been a sop to the masses. A way of showing that insurgence won’t be tolerated, but without the stigma of actually being seen to put a popular man to death. Politics plays a big part in these decisions. Given the character of our self-appointed leaders, it was as likely to have been pure sadism. They had to know his end would be lingering and painful.’

‘That sounds like the bastards,’ Serrah remarked.

Darrok absently brushed snowflakes from his tunic and looked to the sky, blinking. ‘This is getting too rough. We’ll have to call off the exterior work, damn it. Let’s get inside.’

Serrah and Caldason slipped arms around each other’s waists. With Pallidea walking beside his floating dish, Darrok led them towards the mock fortress’s grand entrance. He signalled as he moved, a silent order for the grateful workers to down tools and seek shelter. The swirling snow had the look of countless locusts descending. Fires were doused, horses draped with blankets. A young girl collecting discarded nails in a bucket laid down her burden and ran for cover.

‘We shouldn’t leave things too long as far as Rukanis is concerned,’ Darrok said. ‘What he suffered in the galleys wouldn’t compare to what Vance can put him through. I feel sorry for your friend if he really is in that devil’s hands.’