peacefully.”
“What about the speeches and the, you know, they fight over the food don’t they?” asked Grath.
“Oh no, not here. This is an inn. It's sacred to Yaggrothil and no one would boast before Yaggrothil, the dragon of the deep. Every fishing village of any size has a place where the sailors who have no long houses of their own can stay in safety. Here they can take their meals without having to establish who should eat first.”
Drinagish muttered something that might have been ‘barbarians’.
“Cease, Drinagish,” said Menish. “We must demonstrate our own good manners even to those who have none.”
Drinagish sulked, drinking down his ale and asking the woman who stood near him to fetch more. Menish was not sure he liked the way his nephew looked at her as she drew ale from one of the big wooden casks along the wall. He wished the Vorthenki women would dress a little more modestly.
He found himself thinking about Adhara, wondering how she was managing while he was away. He had left her in charge before and she always did well. But he worried that she would tire herself out. Not all of the women gave her the respect she was due, he felt, but he did not know why. She had a shrewd sense of judgement and she needed it when he was away because the king, or his regent, had to judge the cases the clan chiefs could not fathom.
But now it was not her judgement he missed, it was her ready wit. She usually found a way to make him laugh even when he was tired. Would she make him laugh again if she knew all about Thalissa?
Supper was not long. Two women, accompanied by Astae and the youth, brought in the roasted pieces of pig on a wooden platter and placed it on the table before them along with a loaf of black bread. Menish sniffed at the meat. It was under cooked, most Vorthenki did not really know what to do with red meat, but he was too hungry to have them cook it longer.
The meat was skewered onto metal spikes and Menish grabbed the nearest one and began to eat. Astae was visibly relieved that it was edible. Azkun ate nothing, but that was expected. He sat and glared at the others as if they were committing the worst of Vorthenki barbarities, which did nothing for their conversation.
Menish did not wish to talk anyway. He was trying to think of an excuse to speak to Astae alone, to ask him about a certain old woman. It was awkward. He had hated Thalissa for years and he had half-deliberately sown that hatred among his men. They would want to kill her if they found her alive. But, after all these years, with the actual possibility of revenging the evil she had done in his grasp, he began to wonder if his hatred was entirely just.
At the end of the meal he rose and muttered something about visiting the midden. It was obvious he would have to ask Astae for directions, so he beckoned to the innkeeper as he walked towards the door.
“Yes, M’Lord?”
“My friend saw someone he thought he recognised outside, a girl,” he said in a tone that was easily lost in the conversation of the Vorthenki sailors. “Do you know her?”
“A girl? Oh, yes, I saw him make for her. Not a very pretty wench, and good for nothing I’ve heard. Her name is… oh, I can’t remember now. She was only found a couple of days ago and it isn’t her real name anyway as far as we know.”
“Found?”
“Yes, she was found by Trian at the mouth of that Chasm when he was fishing. Crazy place to fish if you ask me. But he goes there often. He’s a free man, you see, though he is of Akarth’s house. He has a boat of his own. Folk say she might do him good. His other woman has given him no children, and it is rumoured she gives him no pleasure either. Soft, crazy and soft, is Trian. Fancy keeping a woman and no return for it.
“I think he has made the same mistake again. This new woman’s a strange one, too. A half-wit or such like. She doesn’t speak or even look at you. Poor Trian, he has no luck with women. It comes of fishing near that Chasm, I say.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t I say? Oh, the old woman, Loreli, she was found at the Chasm mouth years ago, or so they say. He should have left her there.”
“That was the old woman who took the younger one away? She referred to her as her daughter.”
“Yes, that was her. She seems to have taken a fondness for the young one and calls her daughter. Not the usual way is it, M’Lord? When you bring in younger women the older ones are rarely so pleased!”
“I would not know,” said Menish tersely. “Perhaps you can direct me to the midden.”
Astae’s familiarity disappeared and he gave Menish the information he wanted. Menish went outside and found it largely by following his nose rather than the innkeeper’s guidance.
How Thalissa had survived he could not guess, but somehow she had escaped from the Chasm and been rescued by a fisherman. Since then she had lived here in obscurity, unaware that her son was now Emperor of Relanor.
Chapter 7: Loreli
When he returned he met Azkun standing in the doorway waiting for him. The others were still eating and drinking. Althak, Menish noticed, was still watching Azkun from their table. Azkun’s strange eyes caught his attention again. Thalissa was alive, it was like his dream. Yet he had killed her once as certainly as if it had been with his own hands. How could she be alive? Somehow he had to speak with her. There were things he should tell her.
“I can find her for you,” said Azkun, fixing those eyes on him.
Menish paled. Find her? Thalissa? Did he know? Of course not. He had heard Menish’s conversation with Astae and he probably meant the young woman, not the old one. For the first time Menish wondered about this young woman who had also come from the Chasm; she must have been found the same day Azkun appeared.
“Find who?”
“The old woman.”
Menish felt dizzy. It must be that ale, or perhaps the smell of the midden. He sat down clumsily at the nearest bench and rubbed his eyes. Suddenly he glared at Azkun. “What do you know of her? You said you remembered nothing before the Chasm.”
Azkun shrugged and turned his gaze away.
“You asked him.” He nodded towards Astae, who was introducing a woman to one of the Vorthenki sailors. “You asked him about her.”
Was it that obvious? Had they all heard that conversation? He glanced over at the others but they were paying no attention. Grath was telling some story about cattle raiding, and even Althak was no longer watching them. Only Hrangil was not with the others, he was over at one of the far walls looking at the frescoes
“Sit down, Azkun. I want to talk to you.” It occurred to Menish that this was the first opportunity he had had to speak to Azkun away from his men. Azkun sat opposite him. Their table was otherwise unoccupied. “What do you know of this old woman?”
“I saw her face, but… not clearly. I thought she was a ghost. But she was unhappy, so unhappy. She saw you. That made her unhappy. I could find her again-”
“Hush,” said Menish, for he had been speaking too loudly. “I do not wish the others to find her.”
“Why not?”
Menish owed him an answer, he felt he owed those eyes much. “Because they might kill her if they found her.”
Azkun went pale and his hands trembled on the table as if he were fighting a fever.
“They won't find her,” Menish added quickly. “But I…” What? He wanted to speak with her. He wanted to know if there was any connection between herself and Azkun. More than that. He wanted to tell her why he had left her to Thealum. He wanted to expiate his guilt. None of this would make any sense to Azkun, it barely made sense to himself, and anyway he had no wish to condemn himself before a wild man. “I would like to speak to her.”
“Come then.”
“No, you don't understand. I must see her alone, and she'll not wish to see me. Her friends will prevent me from meeting her. Think no more of it, it's impossible.” He would have to content himself with the fact that she was
