A gong sounded, making Kaetha jump, and then two women and two men swept into the hall from an archway at the far end, their robes flowing behind them. They took their seats on the four tall chairs and Kaetha, Donnan and the group from Doocot were led into the centre of the dais, their escorts bowing and shuffling away after they’d been deposited.
Someone took a slate with chalk writing to one of the seated women. She had white, close cropped hair. On her cheek was a tattoo of a feather which curved with the contours of her face. Taking the slate in her bony fingers, the woman held it out at arm’s length to read in silence. She studied their faces, her gaze lingering longest on Kaetha’s.
Kaetha stared back. “Is someone going to explain all this?” she asked, flinging up her hands in an impatient gesture.
“Welcome to Neul Carraig,” said the woman, as if Kaetha hadn’t spoken. “The fortress of cloud and rock. I am Branna, Chosen by Air.” She signalled to the silent ones with a wave and stools were brought for Kaetha and her companions. “Sit. You’re tired after your long journey. Tea,” she said and someone disappeared through a door, returning shortly afterwards with a tray bearing a jug and five drinking horns. “Mountain tea will help revive you, apparently you’ve had quite an ordeal.”
Kaetha hesitated before putting the drinking horn to her lips, glancing up at Branna. Looking into her eyes was like looking into a storm and a shiver gripped her as if she faced a biting wind.
“No, Kaetha,” said Branna. “It’s not poisoned.” She got up, took the cup from Kaetha and drank.
Kaetha blinked, shocked that this woman knew her name, and then, seeing that all eyes were on her, she took a sip too. The mountain tea had a fresh herbal flavour and a calming fragrance.
“Brothers, sister,” said Branna, looking around at the others seated on the high backed chairs, “introduce yourselves to our guests.”
“I am Naru, Chosen by Fire,” said a bald man with skin that was dark, like that of the merchants Kaetha used to see in Orach Bay who had sailed from Shamlakah with their spices and precious metals. His accent also reminded her of them. He bore a black tattoo of flames on the side of his face but it also put Kaetha to mind of the dragon scales she’d seen in a carving on the mountainside.
“I am Deorsa, Chosen by Earth,” said a tall man with refined features, blue eyes and lank, brown hair. His name might be Dalrathan but there was something more Edonian about his appearance, she thought. His tattoo was like antlers or branches, similar to that of the bald man’s.
“And I am Meraud, Chosen by Water,” said a woman whose pale, heart shaped face was framed with a mane of flowing black hair. Her accent was vaguely familiar to Kaetha. It put her to mind of Angaulish nobles who had visited the Trylenns once at Feodail Hall. She remembered the strained politeness of Gwyn and the barely concealed animosity of her mother towards those guests. This wasn’t surprising considering the many Edonian settlements they’d witnessed being invaded by armies from Angaul. She studied Meraud’s face without returning the sweet smile she offered.
“Well,” said Kaetha, looking at Branna. “It seems you already know our names.”
Branna smiled. “The others do not have my gift. Perhaps you could tell them who you are.”
“I’m Catrin and this is my son, Roddie,” said the woman from Doocot, her expression stony as she put an arm around her son, drawing him close to her. “And this is Meg, our friend. We’re from Doocot. These two,” here she indicated Kaetha and Donnan, “they saved our lives last night. I’d like to know that it wasn’t in vain.”
“Rest assured,” said Naru, “we will take care of you here.” He looked at Kaetha.
“My name is Kaetha. As she said.” She glanced at Branna, not only cross that her name had been taken rather than given, but also that Branna had most likely looked into her thoughts.
“And I’m Donnan Brodie from Braddon. We’re travelling south and Kaetha happened to see the trouble these three were in. We wanted to help them,” he said, glancing at Kaetha. “Though we should like to be on our way again as soon as possible.”
“And why do you head south?” said Meraud to Kaetha.
She did not answer.
“You seem less talkative than your friend,” said Naru.
Donnan snorted. “Not normally.”
Kaetha scowled. “Strange that you point out my lack of talkativeness,” she said, looking around at the people surrounding the dais.
“To speak at their stage of training would be to break their vow,” said Branna.
“What is this?” asked Kaetha. “Some kind of monastery?”
“Not exactly,” Branna replied. “We are the Order of the Appointed, gifted ones, here to develop our magic in to its full potential, in secrecy and safety, and to use it in service of others.”
“Is that what you were doing by bringing us here? Do you mean to help us?” asked Donnan.
A muffled gong echoed from another room.
“Come,” said Branna. “It is time to eat. And you can see others who have benefited from our service.”
The four rose as one and led them down a corridor and into a round room. Grey-cloaked silent ones set baskets of flat breads and berries and dishes of
