Talorc looked to the Azawan and saw why.

  Anga stood before the Azawan. His horse gone, his sword held aloft, Orka’s king stood before the monster that terrorised his kingdom.

  The Azawan saw him. It lowered itself to the ground and slithered forward, slowly.

  The Azawan stopped, face to face with the king. Talorc remembered standing just as the king had stood, two nights ago. It didn’t matter that Anga was bigger than him, or stronger. It didn’t matter that Anga was the king. He was going to die.

  The Azawan opened its mouth. Its tongue flicked out, so close to Anga it might have touched him.

  Then it screamed again.

  Talorc forgot Runa. He forgot Anga and the world and everything he had ever known. There was only the Azawan, its terrible screeching and the devouring horror it released in him.

  Then it was over. The taste of vomit stung his throat again and he was pulling himself to his feet as the world spun around him.

  The Azawan was gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘Da?’

  Runa waved her hands in front of Anga’s face. His eyes flicked back and forth.

  Talorc and Runa had raced through the fields to the king’s side after the Azawan departed. The five surviving guardians had one by one appeared and now watched in silence as Runa tried to communicate with her father.

  ‘Da, speak to me.’

  It was no good. Anga’s body stood before them but his spirit was somewhere else. Had the scream of the Azawan driven it from him? Would it come back? Did Orka still have a king?

  ‘Da, speak to me!’ Runa was shouting now. She gave his cheek a backhanded slap, making Talorc wince. He knew how that felt.

  It was no good. Anga simply stared at her, the way a ghost might stare at its own dead body.

  By the shore, the broch burned.

  Runa pursed her lips. The look of fear vanished from her eyes. She turned to the men.

  ‘My father is unwell,’ she said. ‘I will stand in his stead until he is ready to rule again.’ She looked around as if giving the men a chance to challenge her. None did, though Talorc saw a few of them glance at Derran. He said nothing, but watched Runa intently as she spoke.

  ‘Lerrick,’ she continued, ‘go and find anyone hiding in the fields. Tell them to head inland and spread the word. Every survivor of an Azawan attack may remain in their home or take shelter inland, wherever they find it. They are to be given food and whatever else they need, by my order.’ The guardian nodded, turned and disappeared into the darkness. ‘The rest of us will return to Gurn.’

  ‘Sorry, Princess Runa,’ said one of the remaining men, ‘but is that the best idea? The Azawan could attack Gurn, and we know now that the brochs aren’t safe. We could head inland too.’

  ‘No. News of the Azawan will spread fast after tonight. People will be afraid and look to their king for leadership. Will it give them courage to hear he has run for the hills?’

  ‘She’s right,’ said Derran. ‘The king must be in his keep.’

  Runa gave the white-haired guardian a slight nod. The others seemed to look to him as their leader, though his best fighting days were long behind him; his approval would make life easier for her until Anga was himself again.

  ‘Lets go,’ said Runa, taking her father’s hand. She tugged on it and after a moment he allowed himself to be led, peering from side to side and stumbling like a newborn calf taking its first steps.

  Cloud covered the moon, extinguishing its light as rain began to fall. Anga tripped, fell to the ground and lay there, unmoving.

  It was going to be a long walk.

  The moon was halfway across the night sky by the time they reached Gurn. Kretta was waiting at the gates, a burning torch held in her hand. Her eyes were fixed on the king.

  ‘Kretta,’ said Runa as they approached, ‘the guardians will lodge at the keep tonight. Light a fire and bring them food and ale.’

  The woman nodded. She turned away and the weary soldiers followed her through the gate and into one of the houses. Runa led her father and Talorc up the path and into the broch, where a fire was already lit in the king’s chamber. Perhaps a fire always burned there; Talorc didn’t know why but he liked the idea.

  Runa guided Anga into his chair before stoking the fire. Talorc stood across the fire from her, unsure whether to sit or stand, talk or stay silent. Did he have a right to sit with the king? Was the strange, wordless creature sat in front of him the king?

  Finished with the fire, Runa turned to her father again. She knelt in front of him and took both his hands in her own. ‘Father,’ she said. ‘Can you hear me?’

  Nothing.

  ‘If you can hear me then listen carefully. We need you to come back. You are Anga, son of Barda, of the house of Valdar the Uniter. You are the king, and Orka needs its king now more than ever. Wherever you have gone, come back.’

  The burning peats crackled and hissed, their light dancing off the stones in the altar-bowl. Was the Sea Mother angry with the Orkadi? Was she allowing this to happen?

  ‘Come back!’ Runa shouted and slapped her father. He didn’t respond; she grabbed his shoulders and screamed the words again, rocking him back and forth, his head nodding like wheat in the wind. She punched him in the chest, over and over until her strength failed her. Talorc stood and watched.

  Runa collapsed at her father’s feet, clutching his hands.

  ‘I’ve lived my whole life in a keep,’ she said eventually. ‘Around weapons and defences and talk of war. I know how iron is forged and how a sword is kept sharp. But you can’t really understand it all, my father told me, until you’ve slain an enemy. I’ve never done it. I’ve never killed.’

  Talorc guessed she was thinking about the finfolk, and revenge.

  She turned to face Talorc. ‘Do you think I could do it?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘But what I know doesn’t count for much.’

  ’Sit down,’ said Runa. Talorc sat.

  ‘I could do it for Orka,’ she continued. ‘I would kill anyone I had to kill. Derran and my father taught me how to ride and use a sword and bow while other girls cut barley and ground out flour. I knew it wasn’t a game. Orka has been invaded before, many times. We’ve always won, but if we fail just once, Orka will be lost to us forever. And if she falls now, it will be me that lost her.’

  ‘Your father will get better,’ said Talorc. ‘And even if he doesn’t, you’re strong. You’ll find a way to defeat the Azawan, just like Valdar and Arta would have done.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ said Runa, standing and pacing back and forth. ‘You don’t know what that thing is. Azawan is just a word. Where did it come from? Why is it doing this?’

  ‘The finman is controlling it, I think. He’s using his magic to make it attack us. Otherwise, why would it bother? I doubt its stomach would be filled even if it ate everyone on Orka.’

  ‘How could you know that? How many of our islands have you visited?’

  ‘Three,’ said Talorc, ‘including Odhran.’

  ‘I’ve been to all of them. Many times. I know the name of every headman and every harbour. I know how many-’

  ‘And I know nothing. I understand. You’ve seen the Azawan yourself now, you don’t need the advice of an ignorant farm boy.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she said, looking into her father’s empty eyes again. ‘I just mean… it’s frustrating. I know this kingdom as well as anyone, I want to defend her, I would kill for her but I can’t, because I don’t know what we’re facing.’

  ‘Well, lets forget about the Azawan for now. The fins summoned it. They’re your enemy. What do you know about fins?’

  ‘No more than most people,’ she said. ‘My father taught me about them. He said they came to live on the islands not long after we did, back in the days of the clans. They claimed they had been men until a spey in their homeland cursed them to look like monsters. They were cast out by their people, so they came here and asked to be given land. The clans agreed and made space for them. We were fewer back then and the weather was kinder.’

  ‘My Grunna told me the same,’ said Talorc. ’She said the fins were good neighbours at first, sharing their food with us when we had lean harvests, so people came to trust them.’

  ‘Then the sky darkened,’ continued Runa. ‘And when the crops failed, and people were starving, the fins attacked us. They came at night, creeping into houses and striking with spears in the dark. They waited in the water, launching themselves at boats and dragging the fishers into the sea to drown, so that people were too scared to fish.They wanted Orka for themselves.’

  ‘But then your father brought the clans together, and made us one clan,’ said Talorc. ‘We united against the fins and drove them to Fin Island, where they agreed to stay.’

  ‘And we warned them that if they ever left their island and its waters, we would kill them. We would kill them all,’ said Runa.

  She took a length of iron and poked the fire with it. Talorc knew what she was thinking: if her father didn’t get better, would she have to fulfil that promise? Would she be the one to lead the Orkadi to war?

  ‘The problem with going to war,’ said Runa, ‘is that it could well achieve nothing. The finman was on Odhran, then on Caerban, according to your story. He moves fast, so he could be anywhere now. If he is the one summoning the Azawan then he is the one we have to kill.’

  ‘It could be worse than that,’ said Talorc. ‘Going to war could be just what the finman wants.’ Runa frowned at him. ‘Think about it,’ said Talorc. The finman must know the terms of the treaty, so he must know that breaking it would lead to war. If you attack their island, how will you get there?’

  Runa frowned.

  ‘By sea,’ said Talorc. ‘All of Orka’s guardians, not to mention Orka’s king, bobbing about on the water. Along comes the Azawan, the war is over and Orka is defenceless. The fins have won.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Runa. ‘Except that we’re already defenceless. The Azawan could attack us right here in the keep, right now.’

  ‘But it hasn’t,’ said Talorc. ‘Why not?’

  Runa had no answer to that.

  Kretta entered carrying two bowls of broth. She gave them to Runa and Talorc and looked at the king. The fear in her eyes was clear to see. ‘He’ll eat later,’ said Runa. Kretta nodded and left without a word.

  ‘I don’t know how we’d manage without Kretta. She’s kept this keep going ever since my mother died,’ said Runa.

  ‘When did she die?’

  ‘She died giving birth to me,’ said Runa. ‘While I was still inside her. Kretta had to cut me out.’

  Talorc watched Runa as she drank from the steaming bowl. She was the king’s daughter, as fierce as an angry boar. She made decisions and commanded men as easily as a gull flapped its wings. Her name was famous; his was unknown. Yet they were united in one thing: the world had hurt them before they drew their first breath. It had taken her mother; it had given him fin-feet.

  He could see in her eyes the question he had asked the fire, the sea, the Sea Mother and the skulls. Why? Why must fate be so cruel? Perhaps because the sea was endless; there had to be a place where everything was wrong, as well as a place where everything was right. Where there were no fins, no Azawans, and where parents lived and loved their children.

  ‘The dead are dead,’ said Runa. ‘We are alive and we need to act, which means either going to war or finding the finman.’

  ‘How?’ said Talorc.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  They slurped their broth.

  ‘There might be a way,’ said Talorc.

  ‘What?’

  ‘My Grunna told me a story about a man who fell in love with a woman whom he saw dancing on a rock by the sea. He tried to talk to her, but when she saw him she put on a sealskin, dived into the water and swam away. He realised, then, that she was a silkie. Silkies are people who can put on sealskins and swim in the sea as seals, yet when they take off their skins they are men and –’

  ‘I know what silkies are,’ said Runa.

  ‘Sorry. Well, he looked for her everywhere, he longed for her but couldn’t find her. So he went to a spey-wife.’

  Runa’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘He’d heard that spey-wives could find missing things and missing people by talking to skulls in bone-houses. Maybe… maybe we could find a spey-wife and she could ask a skull where the finman is,’ finished Talorc, his voice trailing off under Runa’s unblinking gaze.

  ‘It was the spey-wives,’ said Runa, almost spitting her words, ‘that caused the sky to go dark. It was my ancestor, King Valdar, who outlawed their magic and closed the bone-houses. And now you want me to ask their help?’

  ‘It might work.’

  ‘We know there are spey-wives still,’ said Runa. ‘Gurn is not blind. Herb-women offer spells as well as medicines. They perform their rituals in Groda’s glens. We can’t stop it, but we won’t condone it either. Even if we asked them to perform a spell for us, by law we would have to kill them afterwards. I don’t see many coming forward.’

  ‘You could send out messengers. Have them announce on every island that any spey-wife who comes to Gurn to help defeat the Azawan won’t be punished.’

  Talorc watched as Runa’s mind worked. He knew already how important the traditions of her family were to her. Could she go against them?

  ‘Very well,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I see no other choice. We will call in the speys.’

  ‘No,’ said Anga, making Talorc jump. ‘You won’t.’

  Anga drank down the last of his broth and addressed his daughter. Runa was trying to look serious. She had hardly stopped grinning since her father awakened, and had fussed over him like a mother hen until he snapped at her to stop.

  ‘I heard everything you said,’ said Anga. ‘You acted wisely at Skate but your words are misguided. I will not allow magic to be done on Orka. It is because of magic that we are in this mess.’

  ‘We’re in it,’ said Runa, ‘and we need to get out of it. I don’t want to involve the speys either, but do you really think swords are going to stop that thing?’

  ‘No, I don’t. But arrows might. Fifty in each eye might. Besides, I said nothing of striking at the Azawan. We are going to strike at the fins.’

  ‘But if the guardians try to sail to Fin Island –’

  ‘We will be in no more danger than we are in while we sit here,’ said Anga. ‘The fins began this war. I am going to end it.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

  Anga looked away from his daughter, lowering his eyes as if ashamed.

  ‘I couldn’t. I heard you, I saw you, but only half of me was here. The other half was somewhere else.’

  ‘Where?’

  The king hesitated before answering. ‘Somewhere that should not exist. When the Azawan screamed at me… I fell into its scream. It was everywhere, all around me like the air we breathe, and it was inside me too. It took my thoughts and twisted them into the shapes of demons. I saw my father rise from the dead and strike my mother. I saw the people of Orka slaughtered by finmen. I saw you…’ Anga shook his head. ‘Enough of this evil. Where is Derran?’

  ‘With the other guardians.’

  ‘Bring them here. We must discuss the invasion.’

  Runa was turning to go when Talorc spoke up. ‘King Anga. May I speak?’

  Anga nodded.

  ‘Runa says magic is already practised in Orka, even though it is outlawed.’ Anga nodded again. ‘So if it is being practised, why not turn it to your advantage? Why not enlist the help of the spey-wives?’

  ‘I do not trust spey-wives.’

  ‘Then have them do their magic here, or somewhere you can watch them.’

  ‘Why are you so keen on speying, boy?’

  ‘My Grunna was a senachai. She couldn’t spey herself but she knew speys, she told me. She said that though some of them did harm, most of them did good. They were just ordinary women who had been born with a talent, the way some are good with net-mending or flute-playing. If they were treated kindly, they would use their talent to help people. If they were hated and despised, well, then they might be tempted to use it to hurt. If you show kindness to the speys, show them you value them, they’ll want to help. It’s their kin that are suffering and dying too.’

  ‘They want the Orkadi to suffer and die,’ said Anga. ‘Why else would they darken the sky?’

  ‘How do we know they did?’

  ‘Because that is our learning, handed down from our ancestors. You deny our ancestors?’

  ‘We make mistakes now. People must have made mistakes then too,’ said Talorc. ‘And if you enlisted the speys, we could speak to our ancestors rather than arguing about what they might or might not have known.’

  ‘You mean the speys could speak to our ancestors.’

  ‘Yes. I know no-one trusts them. But my Grunna said there must have been a time when the speys and the rest of us lived happily together, whatever might have happened in the dark days. They have power. You can find a way to use that power, or ignore it.’

  Talorc waited as the king considered his words.

  ‘You speak well, boy,’ he said at last. ‘You could be a senachai yourself.’ He sighed. ‘Very well. Runa, send out the messengers in the morning.’

  Talorc grinned.

  ‘And send in Derran,’ continued the king. ‘If the Azawan lives four days from now, we are going to war.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Next.’

  At Anga’s word the next supplicant pushed his way forward out of the throng that crowded the king’s chamber.

  Anga sat leaning forward on his chair, his face supported by his palms. Talorc thought he could see the king pinching the skin of his cheek; whether to keep himself awake or to control his visible irritation, he couldn’t say.

 

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