“ ’Sar would dearly love to see a fire mountain burning,” Shiv remarked, gazing at the mountain rising high above the shallow swell of the island we were passing. Yellow-tinted grey, the jagged peak had faint wisps of cloud clinging to the topmost pinnacles. No, not cloud but smoke or steam, ever renewed to defy the constant winds. I wondered if Misaen would heed a mongrel lass like me asking him politely to keep his fires banked until we’d quit this unnerving place.
“See, that’s all rock spewed up recently.” Shiv pointed to a formless mass of black stone sprawling across the beach and dusted with white. “It was so hot, it boiled a barrel full of salt out of the sea before it was quenched.” He smiled, intrigued at the notion.
I decided I preferred land that had the decency to stay as it had been made.
“Livak, put your hood up.” Ryshad spared me a blown kiss when I turned to see him covering his own head. I would have responded but this third day of harsh wind and such sun as burned through the recurrent mists had cracked my lips painfully. We’d taken a laboriously circuitous route in order to keep a long low, grass-covered island between us and the forbidding bulk of Ilkehan’s mountain-spined domain.
Our little boat crawled with aching slowness past a rocky islet in the midst of a treacherous sprawl of dunes and grass. A squat watchtower stood on the scant solid footing, the walls around it were stained and broken in several places. Small figures were making repairs with new, paler stone and several paused to look in our direction.
Sorgrad winked at me. “We leave them alone, they’ll leave us alone.”
But the builders on the fort weren’t the only people to see us coming in from the shallow seas between the outer Elietimm islands and the deeper ocean. To reach this mysterious Olret’s fiefdom, we had to navigate the inner channels winding between dour grey islands fringed with saltings claiming equal kinship with sea and land. We saw men, women and children up to their knees in mud, digging for whatever the grudging sand might yield. Wading birds, black and white and trimmed with flashes of yellow or red hopped around in eager anticipation.
“Why couldn’t we steal a boat with a god-cursed sail?” grunted Sorgrad as some unseen current slowed us.
“Why don’t you take an oar, if you Tormalin know all about boats?” Puffs punctuated ’Gren’s words as he favoured Ryshad with a disgruntled glare. “I’ll bet even I could steer with a wizard smoothing the water under this thing’s arse.”
“That’s called the hull, ’Gren.” I grinned.
“Your man been making you an expert?” he began.
“We need to make landfall soon,” Shiv interrupted, turning to hide his map from the inquisitive wind.
“That’s going to be easier said than done,” grimaced Ryshad.
I studied the coast of Rettasekke curving ahead of us. Black pillars of rock piled in steps and stacks offering no foothold to anything bigger than a seabird. Screaming hordes of them clustered on every ledge and spilled whiteness neither salt nor snow down the cliffs. The sun suddenly appeared to strike rainbow glints from the wet rocks. The colours vanished and I looked up to see dappled cloud spreading across the sky.
“We’ll want to be under cover before long,” Ryshad observed.
“Before nightfall, I aim to be an honoured guest at this Olret’s fireside, drink in one hand, meat in the other,” said Sorgrad with determination.
“Drink and a willing lass will suit me.” ’Gren chuckled.
“You keep your hands to yourself,” I chided my irrepressible friend. “Touch the wrong stocking tops and you could find yourself flogged or worse.”
“Foul this up and you’ll be explaining yourself to Halice,” added Sorgrad. That was one of the few considerations ever to give ’Gren pause for thought.
“Let’s try over there.” Ryshad pointed to a steep stretch of mottled shingle below a stretch of turf breaking the serried black columns.
“Solid ground again,” I murmured fervently.
“Did I mention that coming ashore’s the most hazardous bit of a voyage?” said Ryshad conversationally. I turned my head to stick my tongue out at him as Sorgrad and ’Gren chuckled.
“Fast as you can.” Shiv was concentrating ahead. “We must get above the waterline at once.”
Sorgrad and ’Gren picked up the pace of their rowing. I gripped my seat and trusted to Ryshad’s firm hand on the tiller. As we drew closer, I could see the long spill of gravel making a natural ramp down into the deeper water. The instant the hull bit into the stones, Shiv jumped out, splashing through the cold sea with the painter over his shoulder. Sorgrad and ’Gren tossed their oars into the bottom, sprang over the sides and joined in hauling the boat up the slope. Ryshad was over the stern, shoving from the rear. I stayed put until the boat was solidly grounded.
“Would my lady care to come ashore?” Ryshad swept a florid bow and offered me his hand with a grin.
I handed him his satchel and tossed the others their burdens before gingerly getting out of the boat. “These boots are new. I don’t want salt stains on the leather.”
Shiv was passing his hands over his sodden breeches, dry swathes appearing. “I thought you had more faith in my magic,” he said, mock sorrowful.
“When are you going to learn some useful spells like that?” ’Gren demanded of his brother as he tried to wring water from the bottom of his jerkin.
Sorgrad narrowed his eyes and steam began rising from his own clothes, leaving ’Gren open mouthed.
“Careful,” Shiv warned. “You wouldn’t be the first apprentice to set himself alight.”
“So Larissa said. ”A moment later, Sorgrad let out his breath with a triumphant grin. “What do you think of that?”
I ran a finger over his shirt cuff. “Just about dry enough for ironing.”
“Find me a nice flat stone and I’ll try heating it.” He grinned at me.
“I hate to play sergeant at arms all the time but we don’t have time to waste,” Ryshad pointed out.
“I hate being wet,” countered ’Gren.
“Permit me.” Shiv drove the water from ’Gren’s clothes with a brisk gesture. “Let’s hide the boat.”
“I don’t plan on rowing anywhere else,” ’Gren said firmly.
“I always plan on keeping every option open.” Sorgrad went to help Ryshad and I lent a hand as well. We wedged the vessel between two splintered black pillars and weighed it down with a few substantial stones.
“If we get separated, we’ll use this as a rendezvous.” Ryshad stowed the oars neatly beneath the thwarts.
Everyone nodded agreement as Shiv studied his map. “This way.”
We dutifully followed him up a steep hill shaped like an overturned boat, the blunt stern made by the stark cliffs. It was a punishing climb but the crest offered us a good view across the sound separating this island from Ilkehan’s domain. A line of rocks threaded between the sandy channels, the larger ones crowned with uncompromising cairns of ownership and one all but invisible beneath a small but sturdy fort. Ilkehan’s island beyond was hidden in secretive mists.
“This must be Rettasekke.” Shiv tucked his folded map away and we looked down on a fertile stretch of land dotted with a few houses, divided with neat stone walls and, in the distance, boasting a more substantial settlement.
“This is a clan leader’s holding, is it?” ’Gren looked distinctly unimpressed. “What do they reckon their wealth in? Rocks?”
If they did, this Olret had a plentiful supply. Beyond the narrow band of scrupulously tended land, jagged grey soon ripped through the thin coverlet of grass. Crags and outcrops ran away inland, ever taller and bolder, joining in daunting ramparts, massing to join the abrupt upthrust of the mountains at the core of this island. Some slopes were freckled black and grey like a rabbit pelt, others striped grey on black like a mousing cat, the patches of coarse scrub here and there doing little to soften the harshness of the landscape.