ASHE
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Chapter Nine
The dressing had just been changed, and the servants had lighted numerous sticks of incense to mask the smell of blood. Calypso was oblivious to one and careless about the other. She sat on a wooden bench beside Alexis’s bed and thought about how Alex didn’t like to sleep on her front – it was too vulnerable a pose and harder to twist upwards, grabbing your sword – but Alex didn’t have much choice now. The wound looked like nothing Calypso had ever seen before, on or off the battlefield. The wound was like a window into a strange, blank world, or a red pool that was bottomless. The Elders were around all the time and Calypso wanted desperately to yell at them and clear the room. But they were doing what they could for Alexis, and so Calypso had to grin and bear it. Well, so she didn’t have to grin. She gave up on the bedside vigil and walked out.
She recognised the undeniable elegance of the Lascar palace. Tall columns of sandstone and white marble defied the eye, their surfaces smooth, seemingly to curve toward their meeting with the variegated ceiling. In the throne room, where, a million years before, Laure had publicly claimed Calypso, the pillars were all intricately carved. Calypso walked past them all, looking at the quality of the work. Each pillar was different. Some were held vines or flowers, some the changing seasons of the year, some were illustrated with convolvulus or grapes. Some carvings were a tribute to stories from Lammor’s past, or morality tales and fabled dreams. Calypso looked at them all, running her fingertips over the cool marble, the mildly abrasive quality of fine sandstone.
She looked at the two wooden thrones. Why wood? Why not marble again, or precious metals? But then she understood. These thrones were new: she had heard that the queen and Jura had discarded the ornate thrones that had been passed down from generation to generation. Jura and the queen wanted their thrones to be neither ornate nor ostentatious, and so had had this pair of wooden thrones designed for them. How very much in keeping with what Calypso had heard of the royal pair. For her own part, she’d probably get the old ornate seats back,… if she cared even slightly. The pointless modesty of Jura and the queen irked Calypso. You work hard enough at ruling a country, was her argument. Why not enjoy a few bonuses along the way?
Had she meant what she’d stormed to Laure about finding Alexis’s attacker? Yes, at the time, but it was an impractical way forward. And besides, it was a pointless search. Alexis knew, and Calypso too that it wasn’t a question of who had done the attacking, but of what. And if Alexis had taken that much magic, what else might she have accidentally have loosed upon an unsuspecting world? Calypso sat down on the steps before the two thrones and rested her head on her knees. She was very tired.
Laure had looked in on her mother and Jura. More and more it was as if the queen had already died, and they were in some distant world, mourning her. The Elders kept producing elixirs and other strange potions, and Laure kept thanking them for their work. Jura on the other hand, seemed barely conscious what the fuck they did to help the queen, from whose still form she never moved either glance or attention. Now Laure walked down the broad stairs through the seemingly-dead palace, and saw Calypso in the throne room.
Laure hesitated at the doorway, the tall, broad oak doors looming above her. She had never before seen Calypso like this: seemingly vulnerable, almost small. She stood waiting, watching. It seemed like a long time later that she said, “Are you alright?”
Calypso looked up and stood up, and in that movement the illusion of vulnerability and lack of stature slid away. She looked agile, strong and invulnerable. She straightened her shoulders as if facing an enemy. “Yes,” she said, simply. “How is the queen?”
Laure walked toward her, and her steps rang out in the still air. “Much the same. The Elders think that- ” But Calypso didn’t let her finish.
“The Elders, Gods bless them, know nothing. Alexis might have been able to do something constructive if - ”
“If you and she hadn’t wrecked things by stealing Rhea’s magic and the bulk of her mind?” If there was to be a war of interruptions, Laure could do as well as her consort. Calypso shrugged her shoulders.
“Would the queen of Mercia,… Calypso, would your mother have approved of our alliance?”
“My mother?” Calypso looked thoughtful. After a few minutes she shook her head. “I don’t know. To be honest, I can hardly remember her, she died so long ago. When my aunt took over the country, not to mention my mother’s consort, everything changed. At least, that was what I was told.”
“Do you remember anything about your mother?”
“Why? Laure, I didn’t become the person I am because my mother died when I was a child. Nothing’s that simple. Besides, she would have approved of me. Is that what you thinking that?”
Laure said, “No, I wasn’t. But I am now.” She sat down on the top edge of the long table, around which dignitaries and guests had gathered such a very short time before. Not all signs of the celebrations had been erased: there were still faint marks on some of the pillars, where the sugar flowers had left an imprint of their dye. “How about your aunt? How old were you when she died?”
“Fourteen. Old enough to go to war. Old enough to see her die.”
“Oh.” Laure looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” She hesitated, then asked, “And was your aunt a nice woman?”
“My aunt…” said Calypso, reaching out a hand so that she might stroke Laure’s cheek. “My aunt, the gods watch over her remains, was a single-minded tyrant. She was frightening, violent and entirely unforgiving. She was fierce and blindly determined and she would not tolerate failure.” She glanced toward Laure and added, “I suppose you could say that she taught me everything I know.”
Laure was torn between laughter and running from the room. After an extended pause Calypso added, “She was an excellent leader in times of war, but less so in times of peace. I believe there to be a quality necessary to any woman who successfully manages a country at such times where there is no external enemy to cry against.” She smiled. “It’s called humility. I’ve never had any.” She grinned at Laure. “The truth is that I have no time for, or interest in, humility. Ergo, I’m little good with the concept of peace. Perhaps it’s as well that there will soon be a war.”
“A war?” Laure’s mouth went dry. She stared at Calypso. “Why would we be about to have a war? Why would anyone want to have a war?”
“Well, me for one. I can understand that you have no interest in one. But we will have no choice, either of us. Think about it. By uniting Mercia and Lammor we have created a power equal to, and possibly more powerful than, that of every other country. Everyone is waiting to see in which direction we’ll move. And if they are sensible, they will be planning for war.”
“This is madness! We have to stop what they’re thinking, then. We can’t have a war! I don’t want a war!” Laure was horrified. “Gods, Calypso, we don’t want a war at any time, but especially not now. My mother is ill, Alexis hurt, Cairo disappeared and everything in a state of flux… Gods! We’ve only just announced you as my consort.”
“Time and tide, your highness,” Calypso grinned. “If you listen, can’t you hear the voices of our enemies? Already the messengers are moving about from one country to another. The fateful whispering has begun: Toward whom will they direct their attention? Whose country borders upon theirs? And do you seriously believe that anyone is going to pull their punches because your mother is ill and my… Alexis is ill? Laure, wars aren’t parties that you can choose to attend. We don’t want you putting on a party frock, love. We need you putting on your armour. And make sure your weapons are all sharp.”
“This is madness. I can’t condone it. The queen would be horrified. And your captain, Alexis. Surely you can’t think that she’d support a war? What would they both say if they knew?”
“They’re neither of them going to be saying anything, love. We can’t wait for them to recover before we decide on the best course of action. Tomorrow I’m going to call a council of war. I’ll want you there, of course. You can tell the Elders – not that they’ll want to say anything very much – that I’ll want them there. Do you think that you could persuade Jura to attend? I mean, it is her rule as much as the queen’s.”
“The queen has the last word on any major decision. And as for Jura, she won’t want to leave my mother’s side. I’m afraid there’s no chance in the wide world, Calypso.”
“I thought as much. Pity.”
*******
Ashe drew a deep and silent breath and wondered if it would be her last. Just when things were getting interesting, and nothing unpleasant seemed to be happening.… Oh, well. The karg was moving closer by steady degrees, and it was carrying something between its teeth. Ashe hoped that whatever the object was, it wasn’t another wandering river spirit. She glanced toward Calliope and Sam, “Back away. Back away slowly and whatever happens, don’t come and help me. If all else fails, run as fast as you possibly can, and never look back, no matter what you hear. How far is it to the nearest river?”
Calliope said, “It doesn’t matter, Ashe. We’re not leaving you.”
“We didn’t run away just to run straight back,” said Sam. Ashe sighed.
“Please, do this one thing for me. At least stay here. Oh,” she added, “That wasn’t a request. It was an order. Stay!” The last word came out as a hissed whisper and Ashe hoped the karg didn’t think she was offering up aggression. She reached up for her sword and carried it low as she began moving toward the big cat.
They came together at a middle point in the quiet green valley, the young woman with a stolen sword and a life that had already been lost once, and a beast with bright curved teeth and a bloody stain on its right shoulder. Ashe saw the mark and the blood and stopped dead. This was an old friend.
The karg walked steadily toward her. It held a small deer held firmly in its teeth. Blood dappled the deer’s once white throat. Ashe felt all fear ebb away from her as the karg grew closer still. She wondered if Calliope and Sam would be alright. Ashe stood still and steady, her eyes fixed on the big cat.
The sky above them was blue and white, and the sun’s brightness had some real warmth to it. Ashe blinked at the touch of sun on her face and felt a wash of calm flow through her body. She grinned unexpectedly, and then began walking quickly toward the cat.
Sam and Calliope watched her quick and easy progress. They were neither of them remotely scared, because they understood more about Ashe than she did. They watched Ashe meet the karg, saw the cat deposit the deer’s body – gift-like - on the short sweet grass before their new friend.
.
*******
At Caer Arianrhod, Betany and the council had spent the best part of the day debating the political situation. Food had been brought in to them, and several flasks of fresh wine and water, and the air in the debating chamber had grown stale and old. But at least the meeting had not been in vain: it was clear that although no-one wanted any kind of conflict, they all agreed that it would be better to anticipate a war, than to sit and wait, and be left wide open to an attack.
When the meeting had at length finished and Betany had stood up and was about to leave the chamber, Cirrus put a hand on her shoulder. “Can you spare a moment in private? There’s something I must talk to you about.”
Betany was tired, and her brain felt old and confused and unhelpful, but she said immediately, “On the battlements in half an hour? Good.” Then she strode off into the courtyard without looking back.
The sun was sinking in the west, in a blaze of red and gold. The clouds above the sunset showed how cold it was still: on either side of the sun glittered the ice crystals that formed sun dogs. Betany looked out across the tall white mountains toward the distance, where Lammor lay. Between the two countries stretched the vast expanse of the plains. Two generations since the last war, but Betany had never let the situation rest: there was always an army trained and – in theory – prepared to defend the oldest established country, and the most unusual city. But Betany did not believe in theory: the army was kept in a state of readiness, working through their drills night and day. She thought about war, and said, without even turning around, “Hallo, Cirrus.”
The councillor walked over the edge of the battlements and looked down over the city. “I have heard something that might be of interest to you.” Betany raised her eyebrows. “The previous companion to the princess…”
“The one whom we believed had been banished?”
“Was not banished at all. I understand that she was first under arrest in the dungeons of the palace - ”
“Barbarians, all of them. I had thought better of Lammor.”
“I believe the dungeons have not been used since the last war, but that is not at issue here. She neither remained there nor died. Nor, I understand, was she Lammoran-born, as we first assumed. This is probably why Laure did not choose her as consort. And that isn’t the most remarkable aspect of all this. Ashe – her name – was pursued by the cannibals of the high mountains. While they did not catch her, they did hurt her. I believe that she was found - and helped - by the water spirits.”
“The water spirits?” Betany was impressed. “I’ve never heard of that happening before. Friends like that we could use. Not that I’ve ever heard of a water spirit engaging in any kind of war. Do you think that she would join us? Her knowledge of Lammor would be useful to our forces. And if she’s resentful – as I know I would be, given her background - we might be able to use that, too. Could she be reasoned with? I know that the old stories mention the approach of a figure from the water. Do you think that the reference might mean Ashe?”
“We can’t disregard the idea. And that is why I think it so important that we make contact with Ashe. I think that Ashe could be important to us. Even the Rulers of our country have never been entirely sure of the meaning of the stories. Some have held for years the assertion that a figure from the water might mean a flood, even one that might dissolve our enemies – so to speak – but now that I hear of Ashe, I have started thinking about a new interpretation to the old stories.”
“We should send to her. Send an envoy. Test the water, so to speak.”
Cirrus grinned at her. “Already done,” she said.
*******
Ashe, Sam and Calliope and the karg were arranged around the camp fire, all of them well-fed and pretty much contented. The karg lay in a state of complete collapse, and there was a noise coming from it that sounded very much like a purr.
“I still don’t really understand all this,” said Ashe. “For one thing, I don’t see why a giant cat should have decided to bring supper to us rather than making us into supper. For another, I don’t understand how you knew that I’d be safe out there. Believe me, I was wishing I was anywhere else. How did you know? Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“We couldn’t,” said Calliope. “All we could tell you that we were almost-cousins.”
“Almost-cousins.” Ashe smiled. “And the karg, too? I think my capacity for belief is almost exhausted.” She had hoped to make them laugh, then saw that it would take a little more time before the young water spirits could wrap their heads around such issues as humour and irony. “And I still don’t understand.”
“There’s never been any animosity between the kargs and the water spirits. How could there be? We inhabit different worlds, Ashe. But we heard the older water spirits talking about you. They said that you were our cousin. They said that they already knew you. So we knew that you’d be safe.”
“Well, I’ve certainly never thought I’d ever see a karg, let alone have one bring me supper.”
“They must have the capacity to remember and reward a kindness, Ashe.”
“It still seems a bit of an… unusual thing to have happen,” said Ashe. But she was growing tired and losing interest in the phenomenon. Enough that it had happened. They had all shared a long and strange day, they had walked for miles, and they had had finally sat down to a proper meal. The fire before them burned hot and vivid. Ashe yawned widely, and said, “I’m different now to the way that I was. I knew it today, when I stopped feeling fear. I don’t know how I know, is all. Is that because you and the other water spirits helped me?”
They both nodded rather proudly. Ashe regarded the light-coloured scars that patterned her hands. “When I fell from the mountain,” she said, very slowly,. “I wasn’t just hurt, was I? I’ve been thinking about it, and I am sure that it was impossible for me to have lived. So when your people found me, they didn’t just help me, did they? They brought me back to life.”
There was an odd silence. Ashe looked at Calliope and Sam and waited. Then she smiled at them, and waited a little longer. At last Calliope spoke: “You were very broken, Ashe. Your bones were… smashed up. And your blood… it had nearly all flowed away. They couldn’t bring you back to life. They wove you… what they could provide of a new one.”
In that instant Ashe envisioned not just the past, with its fall and the rescue, but also a brief and painful suggestion of what lay ahead for her. When Ashe next spoke her voice had assumed a new note. She sounded older and more collected. Entirely calm. “What they could provide of a new life. And then they kindly loaned me you two to help me live it.”
“And the karg,” said Sam, reaching over and stroking the top of the big cat’s silver-and-black-striped head. Ashe watched as the cat purred more loudly, clearly enjoying the caress. She was relieved: she’d thought Sam might draw back a stump.
Ashe handed Alexis’s cloak to the two water spirits, leaned back against the marginally comfortable trunk of a tree and stretched out her feet toward the fire. “You two will need this,” she said, simply. “Tuck it snugly round you. A clear day like that, and now such a clear night sky, there’s bound to be a frost.”
Not long after, as Ashe tumbled into sleep, Calliope and Sam together drew themselves up on either side of her, and tugged Alexis’s cloak over them all.
The karg glanced across the fire at the water spirit, made a noise that was more sigh than grunt, and settled its head upon its crossed paws. Calliope snuggled within the crook of Ashe’s left arm, and let the steady beat of Ashe’s mended heart lull her to sleep.