Page 4 of Among the Burning Flowers (The Roots of Chaos #3)

AFELAYANDA FOREST

KINGDOM OF YSCALIN

CE 1003

Triyenas lay in the depths of Afelayanda Forest. It was home to seventy people, who lived beyond the law of the Saint. Now and then, it harboured outsiders, who sought it for distance from the authorities.

No map showed Triyenas. Few knew it existed. Liyat had told about it, having learned the story from a friend in the region. A young man had been caught with an idol of Fruma, that old metalworking god of the mountains. Eluding the pyre, he had fled into the vast forest, where he had noticed strange runes on the trees and followed them to a tiny village. He had hidden there for twenty years, until his face and name were forgotten.

A legend passed between lawbreakers. A place that would turn a blind eye to them, where they could escape the constraints of society. had not been sure it existed until she laid eyes on it, weeks after leaving Aperio.

She dripped with sweat as she approached the wooden alehouse, thatched with rye straw, at the edge of the village. A few people gave her nods as she passed. A week ago, they would have forced her back into the trees without pity, but now she was their culler. She was useful.

Inside the alehouse, she looked around slowly, counting fifteen villagers, all talking in low voices as they ate. It had been months since she had been this close to so many people.

And there was Captain Gian Harlowe, sitting among them.

He sat in a dark corner, holding an earthen cup. As usual, he wore silver cufflinks and a jerkin of silk brocade. It was a wonder nobody had robbed him on the mountain roads that wound into the forest, but the icy stare and raw-boned face must have kept the thieves at bay. The woman serving drinks was clearly fascinated. She had probably never seen real brocade.

When stepped into his line of sight, Harlowe scoured her with his gaze. She wore the best of her three wrinkled shirts, and boots so worn the soles were peeling off with every step.

‘Estina,’ he said. ‘Dare I ask how you are?’

‘First,’ said, ‘you will tell me how the fuck you found me.’

‘Liyat.’

Damn her.

‘Sit down,’ Harlowe said in Yscali. ‘From the looks of you, I’m amazed you can stand.’

obeyed, noting the trencher of food on the table. She imagined the faults he was counting: her brittle hair, her dull and sunken eyes, the number of times she had darned her own clothes.

‘Liyat is a day or two behind me,’ Harlowe said.

looked up. ‘She’s coming?’

‘She needed to find another horse first.’ He gave the villagers a scathing look. ‘I had to give these churls a quarter of my food, just so they would do me the great honour of fetching you.’

‘There is always a price here.’

‘Aye.’ He interlocked his fingers, showing a sapphire ring. ‘Not quite the haven from the tales, is it?’

pursed her lips.

‘Drink this,’ Harlowe said. ‘You sound parched.’ He slid a cup towards her, full of the pine milk she had seen the villagers making. ‘I’ve never known Yscalin so hot. Not in the spring.’

‘Loosen just one fastening on your shirt. You’ll feel better.’

‘Don’t sauce me, Estina. What do you think you’re doing in Afelayanda Forest?’

‘I am surviving, Harlowe, and I will thank you to leave me to it.’

‘How long have you been here?’

‘Three months.’ She wrenched her gaze from his meal, back to his stony face. ‘I assume Liyat told you what happened in Perunta.’

‘Suylos did. Liyat told me she took you to Aperio.’

‘I would have gone to the cove, but Suylos cut me loose. He didn’t want me near him.’

‘Yes, because the comptroller wants you locked in a gibbet. You were a liability to Suylos,’ Harlowe said, ‘but you could have blended into another city, even with that hair of yours.’ He leaned towards her across the table. ‘So why draw attention to yourself by culling, Estina?’

‘You know?’

‘Of course I know. You flouted one of the Grief Laws,’ he said. ‘The heralds are still roaring your description in the north. It didn’t take us long to work out who the Venger of Vazuva was.’ He shook his head. ‘What sort of cocksure numbskull gives herself a name like that?’

She slouched into her seat. Even at her lowest point, she had never wanted to disappoint him.

‘The Comptroller of Perunta is one enemy to have,’ Harlowe said, ‘but the Secretary of State, quite another.’ A muscle feathered in his square jaw. ‘For the love of the Saint, stop slavering over that poor chicken and eat it. You’re making me uncomfortable.’

‘I’ve already eaten.’

‘A large mouthful of air, was it?’

gritted her teeth. Harlowe pushed the trencher towards her, and at last, hunger overpowered her pride. She ripped into a chicken leg and wolfed a slice of hard white cheese.

‘Tell me about Perunta first,’ Harlowe said, watching her. ‘Then we’ll get on to the culling.’

‘You know about Perunta,’ she said through her mouthful.

‘In your own words, Estina.’

swallowed painfully. She had to remember to chew.

‘The comptroller seized the Windstorm and hanged the entire crew, along with the landing party. The cargo included valuable Eastern goods from Mentendon,’ she said. ‘Suylos was furious. He rallied every moon-curser and knave he knows to help break into the Customs House. Not only to recover the cargo, but to show King Sigoso who rules the coast.’

‘Suylos is a dependable ally when he blows cold,’ Harlowe said grimly, ‘but when he blows hot, he’s a beef-witted fool.’ His mouth thinned. ‘I should never have left you with him.’

‘No. I’m glad you did,’ admitted. ‘I loved working for the Greenshanks. Lovers’ Cove felt like a home to me. Even when it was hard and bloody, it … felt like having a family again.’

Harlowe narrowed his eyes.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

took a sip of pine milk. For all her smarting pride, she was glad to see Harlowe again. A person who knew her better than she knew herself, after so much torturous solitude.

‘Half of us kept the guards and preventers busy,’ she went on. ‘The rest meant to steal into the Customs House and run the plunder to the smuggling tunnels. Liyat was in the latter party.’

‘Liyat didn’t say she was involved.’ Harlowe frowned. ‘It isn’t like her to indulge Suylos in nonsense. Why risk being spotted with a band of rioting smugglers in Perunta?’

‘There were some Mentish relics in the shipment. She couldn’t let them be destroyed in the fray, so she agreed to help.’ dropped her gaze. ‘The officers cornered her. Liyat will maim if she must, but she would never kill. Not even to save her own life.’

‘So you did it for her.’

She nodded, seeing it again. The utter chaos of the clash. The customs officers, with their swords and rifles, eager to destroy the smugglers that plagued their coast – and then Liyat in the grip of a city guard, hauled from the Customs House, bound for prison, where they would find her Pardic pendant, marking her as an unbeliever. She would be on a pyre in days.

And so Estina had drawn her pistol and fired. She had only meant to wound the officer, but the bullet had struck his neck. The comptroller himself had seen, and the red hair had made her stand out like a jester. She had fled to the east, turned culler, turned outlaw.

And now she was a starveling in the wilderness.

‘She wasn’t seen,’ said. ‘They didn’t have a chance to remove her mask.’

‘So she took you to Aperio to lie low,’ Harlowe said. ‘I’ll ask you again. Why start culling?’

‘Because I can’t do anything else, Harlowe,’ she snapped. ‘I squandered my apprenticeship. I have no useful skills.’ She tore the other leg off the chicken. ‘I did try to find work, but there was nothing that paid like culling. If you can secure a noble patron, it can change your destiny.’

‘There are nobles getting involved in this business?’

‘Only when the beasts hurt their interests. My old patron has a valuable mine on her land, but it was infested with lindworms. All that red gold, untouched for centuries.’

‘Red gold.’ Harlowe cocked his head. ‘Was your patron Princess Viterica, by any chance?’

‘Indeed it was. She paid very well,’ admitted. ‘Even without the lindworms, it would have been dangerous to enter a mine that old.’ She shoved another scrap of chicken into her mouth. ‘The other cullers died in that hole. Viterica gave me all of their coin, but it still wasn’t enough. I didn’t just want a bribe for the comptroller. I wanted some money for me.’

‘The curse of one who knows what it is to be truly poor,’ Harlowe said. ‘To be for ever shadowed by the memory and fear of need.’ He took a spill from his jerkin. ‘What then?’

‘An anonymous patron offered me a contract,’ said, ‘but the meeting was an ambush. I escaped by the skin of my teeth. The Mayor of Aperio informed Lord Gastaldo Yelarigas, who ordered the Knights Defendant to hunt me down like a hound, so I could be thrown on a pyre. Liyat had told me about Triyenas, but … I didn’t really expect to find it, desperate though I was. I had nothing to offer or trade, so the villagers drove me into the trees to starve.’

‘Seems they almost succeeded.’ Harlowe looked around. ‘So why are you allowed here now?’

‘I offered them the one thing I can do. If I cull, they’ll give me food.’

‘Suylos would have shot you if you’d struck a deal that bad for him.’

That was true.

‘I can stay here now,’ said mulishly. ‘I killed my first the other day. I can survive outside the law.’

‘If you don’t die in some vile lair.’ Harlowe held the spill over the candle on the table, so the end caught fire, and used it to light his pipe. ‘You’ll have your hands full very soon, Estina. I’ve heard of more and more sleepers coming out to hunt. There have even been wyverlings on the wing.’

‘Where?’

‘Lasia and Inys, so far.’ He puffed on his pipe. ‘A second Grief is inevitable. If the creatures are stirring… so are the wyverns. And so, in turn, are their masters.’

searched his face. ‘You really think the High Westerns are waking?’

‘Aye,’ he said, ‘and the highborn will soon need someone to accuse.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sigoso Vetalda already blames the cullers, and the commons in general, for the stirrings. He claims people are disturbing the beasts for sport, and that’s why they’re coming out of their lairs.’

‘Sometimes that is the case, but not always.’

‘He’s armouring himself against any implication of fault. He knows that some would hold the monarch personally responsible, claiming he’d angered the Saint, or some such blether. Better to accuse the commons, so we only ever turn upon ourselves.’

‘Queen Sabran and King Raunus both allow culling. I assume the Ments do as well.’

‘Sigoso has his own ideas about justice and truth.’ He blew out smoke. ‘Such a pious man.’

His face hardened when he spoke of the king. It had interested since she first noticed. For years, Harlowe had abetted the knaves of Yscalin. He had used his ship to transport smuggled goods, and even found new runners, like her. It was a great risk for a wealthy Inysh naval officer, trusted by the Queen of Inys, who called Sigoso her friend and ally.

If she found out that Harlowe was depriving him of taxes, she would not be pleased, yet he persisted. A perseverance that spoke of a grudge.

But what grudge could a smuggler have against a king?

‘You will have already realised,’ Harlowe said, ‘that Liyat and I are not leaving you here to be killed by a beast. I didn’t trudge up these mountains to walk down empty-handed. And I didn’t pull you from the cobblestones to see you reduced to this state again.’

‘I never asked you to save me.’

‘Don’t start, Estina.’

‘I am four and twenty, Harlowe. My decisions are my own,’ said, ‘and I am staying here.’

‘Among people who almost let you starve, risking life and limb for your supper?’ Harlowe kept her pinned with those cold orbs of his, stripping away her defences. It was irritating. ‘No. I’m going to make you a better offer, and you are going to accept it.’

‘Go on.’

‘I need a new boatswain.’

She blinked. ‘What?’

‘You heard me. If you can slay a sleeper, you have the nerves I need.’

‘Wait.’ She sat up a little. ‘You want me to live on your ship?’

‘You say it like I’ve asked you to be the local ratcatcher.’ He blew his smoke towards the villagers. ‘I don’t just want you to live on my ship, Estina. I want you to be the voice of my crew.’

‘The voice of your—’ She had to laugh. ‘Why would your crew ever listen to some orphaned nobody?’

‘Because you’re the sort of orphaned nobody who shoots a customs officer, damning herself to the gibbet, to protect a crewmate. And seafarers, above all people, respect that sort of loyalty.’

Suylos had rebuked her for saving Liyat, calling her a lovesick fool. The idea that anyone could respect it was news to her.

‘I don’t like this,’ she informed Harlowe. ‘What happened to the last boatswain?’

‘Rogue wave.’ Harlowe sucked on his pipe. ‘I won’t lie to you. There are risks. But the Rose is a fine ship, a good home. You’d have food and drink and new sights each morning. You could see the sky lights dancing in the North. I’d even take you as far as the East.’

‘Harlowe, I’m no seafarer. You know this very well. Doesn’t a boatswain need years of experience?’

‘You’d have to work for the position. I’d start you off as an ordinary,’ he said, ‘but I’ve told my crew about you, and they’re willing to let you prove yourself. Knowing you’re a culler will only warm them to you. In any case, you know enough to work your way around a ship. I made sure of that when I passed you to Suylos. I told him to put you in a few sea parties.’

‘You’ve been planning this?’

‘In case of a catastrophe.’ His gaze was cool and steady. ‘You’ve been fighting to survive Yscalin since the day you were born. Even before you washed up in Oryzon, your parents were struggling, because the Six Virtues only apply to certain people. There’s no generosity for the poor, no temperance or courage among the robber knights. No justice for cullers like you, who’ve kept people safe and been vilified for it. Your parents saw that. It’s why they defied the king.’

‘And I thought it was simple greed.’

‘No. The temperance duty opened their eyes to the damned hypocrisy of it all. They died in a debtors’ prison, racked by the bloody flux. Do you want to go the same way?’

‘Obviously not.’

He had found out for her, when she told him their names. She tried not to imagine their deaths.

‘I would have left you with the Greenshanks,’ Harlowe said, ‘but now you’re an outlaw, you’ll always be hunted. Leave the land of the Saint – all this sanctimonious nonsense – and join my crew.’

‘I would bring down the wrath of the comptroller on your heads, not to mention King Sigoso.’

‘The high seas are not subject to Yscali law.’

She could almost see it. A life on the waves, and new lands ahead, never having to beg for her supper. The idea filled her with a sudden, painful longing – a hunger for escape, for more.

And then she closed her eyes to the vision, like a tortoise withdrawing into its shell.

‘I can’t leave,’ she said. ‘This is my home, Harlowe.’

‘You only say that because you’ve never known anything else.’

‘No. I love Yscalin,’ she insisted. ‘I loved my life on the coast. I loved running circles around the preventers. I love good wine and crisp red pears, summers so hot you feel like Fyredel is—’

‘Don’t speak that name.’ His voice was soft. ‘The right wing hears all, wherever he sleeps.’

Harlowe might think himself enlightened, but in the end, he was as superstitious as any other sailor. Then again, so was . Like many lowborn winemakers, her parents had carried out all sorts of rituals to ensure a good harvest, like planting corn dolls in the ground. It was probably against some law, but when you were as poor as dregs, survival came first.

‘I can’t leave,’ she said again. ‘Liyat is here.’

‘Liyat will not settle with a partner. You’re chasing a pipe dream with that one, Estina.’

‘You don’t know her well enough to say that.’

‘I’ve known her longer than you,’ Harlowe reminded her, ‘and I know that she is married to her work. She also has a thicker hull than my ship. Not even a cannon would get through.’

The fear that had circled in her mind for months, silent and sinister, and Harlowe had pulled it from her skull, slammed it on to the table, and sliced its guts out, forcing her to confront it.

‘You can still visit,’ he said. She looked away. ‘Half my crew have lovers waiting on the shore.’

‘Do you?’ she retorted.

‘No.’

His face turned so cold, she dared not hit back.

‘I’ve business in Oryzon,’ he said, ‘but perhaps Liyat can talk sense into you. If you change your mind, I’ll be staying at my lodgings there until the Feast of High Spring. You might love Yscalin, but from what I can tell, it will never love you, Estina. Sooner or later, you’ll be too slow and weak to slaughter beasts, and the law of the Saint will finally catch up to you.’

‘Then I’ll cut wood. I’ll learn to hunt,’ growled. ‘I’ll find another way to survive.’

‘You were meant for more than that.’

sank into a morose silence. Harlowe watched her pick at the last of the chicken.

‘Don’t come after me again, Gian,’ she said gruffly. ‘I was never your burden.’

‘Try not to be your own burden, Estina.’

****

Liyat arrived at the oak the next evening. watched her approach from the hollow. She saw her low surroundings as if for the first time, and a fresh wave of excruciating shame went through her.

It had been over a year since Liyat had last seen her. knew she was no great beauty, but at least she had owned a comb on the coast, and possessed enough coin to afford lemon soap. Perhaps out of fear of any more change, she had not been able to bring herself to cut her waist-length hair, but now it was dull and dishevelled, and her teeth, already crooked, felt loose.

At last, she emerged from the hollow. Liyat took half a step towards her, holding up a saddle lantern.

‘Estina,’ she breathed. ‘Is that really you?’

‘It’s me.’ forced a smile. ‘Don’t I make a dashing outlaw?’

Liyat closed the distance between them and embraced her, tight enough that it stoked her bruises. It had been so long since anyone had touched her, had almost forgotten how it felt to be held. She was as starved of human touch as she had been of food.

‘You’re so thin,’ Liyat said into her shoulder. ‘I feel every bone in your body.’

‘I’m all right, Liyat.’

‘Do not deceive me a second time. You said you would stay in Aperio.’ Liyat drew back, her gaze hard and accusatory. ‘I can’t believe you turned culler. That’s why Gastaldo Yelarigas is hunting you.’

‘Liyat, I had no—’

‘Do not tell me you had no other choice. You had no other choice than to start killing sleepers?’

‘I did it for us,’ said hotly. ‘I thought I could earn enough coin to bribe the comptroller to clear my name, so I could return to Perunta. Or find somewhere else for us to stay.’ Her shoulders wilted. ‘And then it all just fell apart. I didn’t know what to do but come here.’

Liyat now had a strange look on her face.

‘I should never have told you about this place,’ she said. ‘Better you left Yscalin altogether.’ She breathed in, collecting herself. ‘I didn’t want to lose my temper. May I come in?’

reluctantly showed her into the hollow. Liyat stooped to get inside. She observed the earthen floor, the spiders, the filthy sack had been using as a makeshift pallet.

‘Estina,’ she said, ‘how long have you lived this way?’

‘I have managed.’

‘Harlowe told me about your deal. These people have lived off the land since the Grief of Ages, and they have each other to rely on. How long did you think you could last on your own?’

‘I’ve lasted three months. Not so bad for a city woman.’

‘And now you look an inch from death. If culling is all these people will accept from you—’

Liyat took off her thin summer cloak. Even travelworn, she looked too presentable for the wilderness.

‘The shop,’ said. ‘Is it all right?’

‘Yes. The guards never saw my face, thanks to you. I can remain in Perunta.’ Liyat removed her bandolier, which held a pistol and knives. ‘Harlowe went to Lovers’ Cove to see you. Suylos sent him to me, and he asked me to take him to Aperio. That’s where we read your note.’

‘I do not appreciate you telling Harlowe where I am. He already thinks I’m an abject failure.’

‘He cares about you. And you must take him up on his offer.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You would prefer to live here, wanted for high treason for the rest of your life?’ Liyat said, frustration sharpening her voice. ‘Harlowe offers you more than escape. He offers you the entire world. What more could you ask?’

sank on to the hard earth. Liyat knelt in front of her, seeking her gaze.

‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘Why would you rather stay than leave?’

Even as she spoke, could only drink her in. The dark curls, drawn back loosely, that framed deep grey eyes and sharp cheekbones. The tiny mole above the corner of her lip.

Is it not obvious, she wanted to ask, why I don’t want to leave?

‘I can’t … let them win,’ she said stiffly. Liyat watched her face. ‘I was born in Yscalin. I have lived and worked and fought to survive this fucking country. Why should I leave my own home because I am poor and orphaned? Because I am not enough for the Saint?’

‘Estina.’ Liyat cupped her elbows. ‘You have known what it is to be hungry and scared. I understand why Lovers’ Cove meant so much to you. I truly do. But we cannot get it back.’

‘We could. If we just wait—’ Her voice cracked. ‘The Donmata might be kind, like her mother. The stance on culling might change. Sooner or later, Yscalin will repeal the Act of Restraint, to reflect attitudes in the rest of Virtudom. Maybe I could earn a pardon.’

‘I hear too many mights and maybes,’ Liyat said, her tone forbearing. ‘No one knows the Donmata Marosa. Even if she is more sympathetic than King Sigoso, it could be decades before she reigns. Don’t live in denial.’ She firmed her grip. ‘We cannot turn back time, but we can keep on living. If you won’t follow Harlowe, then you are coming with me to Ortégardes.’

‘I can’t go to a city.’

‘I know an innkeeper who will shelter you. After you’ve regained your strength, if you are still set against joining Harlowe, I’ll get you to Lasia. The law of the Saint cannot touch you there.’

‘Liyat, I don’t know anyone in Lasia. I will be just as poor and friendless as I am in Triyenas.’

‘Don’t be a fool. I know people there. You can live in my house in Nzene,’ Liyat said, ‘and whenever I come back to see my lady patron, I will visit. I will find you work at a forge.’

The mysterious patron. In Perunta, Liyat was known as a dealer of curiosities. In secret, she collected forbidden books, relics of lost faiths, and other artefacts that would be seen as evidence of heresy. An anonymous Easterner, based in Nzene, paid her to recover them.

For three years, Liyat had formed a web of associates to hunt down the objects, get them to Perunta, and smuggle them on to Nzene. The work, for all its dangers, was her calling. That passion was precisely why had first been drawn to her, the night they met, when Liyat had made it clear that she would brook no disrespect from the new criminal in Perunta.

had dallied with a girl or two in Oryzon, but Liyat was an iron-willed and independent woman, unimpressed by artless flattery. In fact, nobody had ever succeeded in charming her. She was an ally of Suylos, part of his consortium on the coast, but she answered to no one in Yscalin. And as soon as she pointed that pistol, Estina was in love.

She had shoved down the feeling with all her might, trying not to let it show. And yet Liyat had kissed her first. It was the only time in her life that a foolish hope had come to fruition.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I can’t accept your offer, Liyat.’

‘You saved my life. Let me save yours.’

‘You did that by getting me out of Perunta, by taking me to—’

‘No, Estina. I owe you a life,’ Liyat cut in. ‘And this is not living.’

ran a hand over her knotted hair, battling tears of frustration.

‘Do not die alone and afraid in the dark,’ Liyat said softly. ‘Leave the culling in the past. Come with me, and we will face the next fork in the path.’

The collar of her shirt had fallen open, revealing a small pewter medallion engraved with Pardic, a language older than Yscalin. The pendant that would have been a death sentence.

‘Ortégardes,’ said, defeated. ‘For now.’

Liyat took her by the chin and kissed her. Her lips were softer than anything in the forest. drew her close, wishing they had never left Lovers’ Cove, where Suylos landed goods. The warm and firelit cave; the secluded inlet with its white sand.

‘Collect your weapons. We’ll tell the villagers you’re leaving,’ Liyat said, ‘and stay in the room they offered me for the night. It has been too long since I slept by your side.’