Page 65 of Fate of the Argosi

Stoika nodded, and paused to wipe away a tear that was barely more than a hazy wetness in the corner of her eye. ‘We brought the black ice with our despair. The necropolis came into being through the melancholia we elders had sown deep inside the soil of our people’s hearts. I knew it. In that moment, I knew that we . . . thatIhad delivered the Mahdek to oblivion.’ A trembling hand came to brush at her cheeks clumsily. ‘For three centuries the Jan’Tep sought to wipe us from the world like an unsightly stain upon nature’s beauty. They failed.’ Her fingers closed into a fist. ‘All their magic, all their power, and yet they failed.’ She slammed her fist down on her own thigh, rattling the tea tray. ‘Not we elders though. Not the council whose duty it was to protect and guide the young. When we realised we could not give them a better life than the one we’d lived, we instead destroyed their hopes and dreams so thoroughly that they . . .’ She stopped again, shaking her head.

A dozen phrases came to mind. Kindly, reassuring sentiments meant to ease her anguish. Some came from Durral, some Enna. Sir Rosarite always had a few good sayings for times like these. None belonged to me though, and none would have done a lick of good. Sometimes pain is pain and you have to go through it, not around it.

Stoika pounded her fist against her thigh a few more times, lighter though, a kind of punctuation to give herself time to breathe. The galleon’s movements slowed a little. I had to remind myself that it wasn’t the ship moving through the shadowblack waters but the waters moving around us. Either way, we were arriving somewhere. Stoika sensed it too, and pushed herself through the rest of what she’d come to say.

‘When I saw you out there, on that mad horse of yours with that nasty little goat on your shoulder, I thought,What a fool that girl is, riding off to an arrogant, vain ending as if fate were an opponent you could challenge to a fist fight. And yet, ride you did, and fight you did. One by one you shattered the death arches. One by one you dragged our people out of the pit into which the folly of their elders had consigned their spirits.’

A knocking at the door. ‘Ferius, we’re here!’ Ala’tris called out excitedly. ‘We’ve reached the causeway.’

‘I’ll be out in a minute,’ I called back.

Stoika smiled wearily. ‘Our time grows short, and our tea is getting cold.’

I sniffed again at the fumes from my own cup. ‘That could only improve the flavour.’

‘Heretic.’ She drained her cup all the way to the bottom, then set it back down before carefully placing the entire tray on the floor between us. ‘All right, old woman,’ she muttered to herself, ‘no more hiding from the truth.’ Her eyes met mine, and there was so much ease there, so much gratitude, that I almost wondered if I was staring at the same stern woman as moments ago. ‘You saved our people, Ferius Parfax. More than that, you’ve proven something I never would have believed possible. The Mahdekdohave a future.’ She glanced around at the tiny cabin. ‘This preposterous galleon, these damnably polite Jan’Tep mages.’ She cast an arm back towards the door. ‘That island waiting for us. It’s as if you slammed down the blade of an axe in the centre of a dead-end road and somehow forked a path into the future. Our destiny was to end in misery and despair, I was sure of that, but now . . .’

More cries came from the deck above us, full of excitement, trepidation and wonder.

‘Now we have an island to explore,’ I said, and poured my cup out onto the floor, never taking my eyes from Stoika.

She chuckled, softly. ‘You think I came here to poison you? Perhaps we have both overestimated your Argosi talents. Which would be a terrible pity now.’ She leaned back against the wall as if she never meant to leave this little cabin. ‘Our people need someone to lead them. I’d hoped that one day it might be my son, but Chedran is . . .’

‘An arsehole?’ I suggested.

She didn’t appreciate the joke. ‘A warrior. As pure a warrior as was ever born to a peaceful people. But he only knows one way to fight – with fists and blades and a heart full of rage.’ She pointed an accusing finger at me. Her arm was shaking. ‘You, Ferius. You make a foe of suffering and despair, but never of people.Thatis the war the Mahdek must learn to fight.Youare the leader they need.’

I rose to my feet. A little unsteady. Three days lying on grain sacks doesn’t make for a refreshing rest. ‘Get up,’ I told Stoika.

She smiled the way a gambler does when slapping the winning cards down on the table. ‘I haven’t long left. You presumed I poisoned your cup, but it was mine, and your rather unsophisticated attempt at sleight of hand didn’t fool me for an instant. The moment you started that nonsense about me reaching for your cup, I switched them.’ She waved dismissively towards the door. ‘Go. Guide our people to a better fate than the one I foresaw for them. Leave a woman too long past her prime to die alone and miserable as is our most sacred right.’

I bent down and hugged her. ‘You’re a crazy old bat, you know that?’

She was so stiff it was like hugging a board. She patted my back awkwardly. ‘I still dislike you, Ferius Parfax.’

I laughed. The bitter coot had excellent delivery. Durral would’ve approved. ‘On your feet, elder,’ I said, extending my right hand to offer support.

She tried to swat it away, but I slid my hand under her arm and offered it to her again. ‘I told you, child, it’s too late for me. Go save someone who wants it.’

‘Okay, first, stop calling me “child”. I’m eighteen.’

She sighed and her eyes drifted closed. ‘Still a child.’

‘Second, never try pulling a con on an Argosi. It’s embarrassing for both of us.’ I noisily rattled the tiny leather satchel that I’d picked from her coat pocket.

‘Suit yourself,’ she said in the slightly distracted way of someone waiting for sleep to come. ‘I’ve no use for it any more.’

I stuffed the satchel into my waistcoat, then reached down with both hands and hauled Stoika to her feet. ‘Third, in case you’re ever playing poker with a card sharp . . .’ Her eyes opened, full of fury and outrage, both of which I ignored. ‘When youthinkyou’ve caught them palming a card? That’s the one theywantyou to spot.’

She pushed herself away from me and seemed surprised that she didn’t fall back down. She rubbed her thumbs and forefingers together. ‘No numbness,’ she mumbled. ‘They should be numb.’

‘The first switch of the cups was when I steadied the tray on your lap, you ill-tempered buzzard. I only pulled the second one because I knew you’d expect me to try to swap them.’ I headed for the door, stopped just outside it. ‘You keep thinking our people need leaders to guide them. Maybe that’s true, but you know what I think? I think it’s high time our leaders learned a thing or two from their people. You reckon you can endurethat, Stoika?’

She came to the doorway and stepped outside with me. Now that she’d figured out she wasn’t dying, the steel had returned to her spine and she stood straight as an arrow. Her hand, though, was unexpectedly soft as she cupped my cheek. ‘When I first knocked, you were mumbling something about eighteen being far too young to feel so old.’

The cheering from up on the deck was becoming a raucous chorus. I could even hear Conch bleating excitedly. ‘I was tired, that’s all.’

Stoika’s hand remained on my cheek. ‘Did the elders of your clan never teach you the old Mahdek saying about wisdom?’

---