Song of the Silvercades Read online

  Praise for the Kira Chronicles

  ‘An impressive debut novel which combines assured writing and well-paced storytelling. K.S. Nikakis is a welcome addition to the ranks of Australian fantasy authors.’

  Juliet Marillier

  ‘The Whisper of Leaves is fantasy supreme … an enthralling story with characters you care about.’

  Van Ikin, Sydney Morning Herald

  ‘[The Whisper of Leaves] is strong on its arboreal setting, and promises further complexity. For the genre fantasy fans.’

  The Age

  ‘This excellent book is filled with adventure and mystery, tragedy and love, with power struggles, the thrill of success and the crushing weight of defeat. A definite recommendation …’

  Daniel Habashy, Newcastle Herald

  ‘This is great fantasy.’

  Cairns Post

  ‘Here’s a strong new voice in Australian fantasy writing. It will be a pleasure to watch as this tale unfolds in future instalments.’

  Good Reading

  ‘Follow the lovely, vibrant Kira every step of the way in this fast-paced, epic story from a brilliant new Australian writer.’

  Toowoomba Chronicle

  KAREN SIMPSON NIKAKIS grew up in the alpine region of north-eastern Victoria. She spent her childhood riding horses around the surrounding countryside, developing a keen interest in landscapes.

  After starting out as a teacher, Karen worked in adult migrant education, teacher education and business communications. Taking leave from work to spend time with her young children, she pursued further education, becoming interested in fantasy, mythology and Jungian theory. As well as doing a PhD on Joseph Campbell’s hero path, she wrote short stories, poetry and novels during this period.

  Karen lives with her family on acreage near the western edge of Melbourne and is Foundation Head of NMIT’s Bachelor of Writing and Publishing.

  BOOK 2 OF THE

  KIRA CHRONICLES

  the

  SONG of the

  SILVERCADES

  K.S. NIKAKIS

  For Con, Chrysanthe and Andreas, Roy and Brenda,

  Poppy and Terry

  This edition published in 2009

  First published in 2008

  Copyright © K.S. Nikakis 2008

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

  Arena Books, an imprint of

  Allen & Unwin

  83 Alexander Street

  Crows Nest NSW 2065

  Australia

  Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

  Fax: (61 2) 9906 2218

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.allenandunwin.com

  Cataloguing-in-Publication details are available

  from the National Library of Australia

  www.librariesaustralia.nla.gov.au

  ISBN 978 1 74175 893 1

  Internal design by Kirby Stalgis

  Map by Ian Faulkner

  Set in ITC Legacy Serif by Midland Typesetters, Australia

  Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  The Tremen

  KASHCLAN

  Kiraon (Kira) – Tremen Leader and Healer

  Miken – Clanleader of Kashclan

  Tenerini – bondmate of Miken

  Tresen – son of Miken and Healer

  Mikini – daughter of Miken

  Brem – Healer

  Arlen – Healer

  Werem – Healer

  Paterek – Healer

  MORCLAN

  Marren – Clanleader

  Kest – Protector Commander

  SARCLAN

  Berendash – Clanleader

  TARCLAN

  Kemrick – Clanleader

  RENCLAN

  Sanden – Clanleader

  Pekrash – Protector Leader and Commander of the volunteers

  KENCLAN

  Tenedren – Clanleader

  BARCLAN

  Ketten – Clanleader

  SHERCLAN

  Dakresh – Clanleader

  Sener – son of Dakresh

  Tallien

  Caledon e Saridon e Talliel

  Roshai – Caledon’s sister

  Pisa – Roshai’s youngest daughter

  Mechtlin – Roshai’s husband

  Tain

  Beris – King

  Adris – Prince, son of Beris

  King’s Guard

  Remas – Guard Leader

  Ather – Second Leader

  Belzen

  Archorn

  Troopsmen

  Dorchen – Commander

  Selvet – Troop Leader

  Somer

  Tardich

  Derz

  Physicks

  Dumer – Physick-General

  Aranz – Major Phyisck

  Speri – lesser physick

  Gatherer

  Jaitich

  Terak Kirillian

  Rulership

  Tierken – Feailner

  Laryia – Tierken’s sister

  Darid (dec) – Tierken’s uncle and previous Feailner

  Poerin – Tierken’s military trainer

  Marken – advisers to Terak Kirillian rulership

  Rosham – Farid’s father

  Borsten

  Gelf

  Milsin

  Soresh

  Therkash

  Domain – Centre of rulership

  Farid – Keeper of the Domain

  Ryn – Horse Master

  Mouras – Room Master

  Niria – server and Marin’s wife

  Domain Guard

  Tharin – Guard Leader

  Daril – Guard Second

  Terak Kirillian Patrolmen

  Marin – Commander

  Jonred – Patrol Leader

  Anvorn

  Drinen

  Shird

  Vardrin

  Slivkash

  Jarvid

  Kessomi

  Eris – Darid’s mother and grandmother to Tierken and Laryia

  Thalli – childhood friend of Laryia

  Leos – Thalli’s husband

  Jafiel – Leos’s brother

  Kira – Thalli’s baby daughter

  Robrin – stable master

  Shargh

  Cashgar Shargh

  Erboran – Chief (dec)

  Palansa – join-wife of Erboran

  Ersalan – baby son of Palansa – next Chief

  Arkendrin – younger brother of Erboran

  Tarkenda – mother of Erboran and Arkendrin

  Ormadon – allied to Palansa

  Erlken – Ormadon’s son – allied to Palansa

  Sansula – friend to Palansa

  Orsron – Sansula’s baby son

  Irdodun – allied to Arkendrin

  Orthaken – allied to Arkendrin

  Ermashin – allied to Arkendrin

  Weshargh

  Orbdargan – Chief

  Orfedren

  Soushargh

  Yrshin – Chief

  Ashmiri

  Uthlin – Chief

  If Healer sees a setting sun

  and gold meets gold, two halves are one.
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  Then Westerner with silver tongue

  will love and lose the golden one

  but bind a friendship slow begun.

  If horses graze in forests deep

  where trees their summer greening keep

  then fire will be the flatsword’s bane

  and bring the dead to life again.

  Deeds long past will hunt the Shargh

  and funeral smoke consume the stars

  until the thing that draws no breath

  devours the dark that feeds on death.

  1

  Kira sprinted the last of the way to the trees, desperate to reach the Azurcade foothills before the storm broke. Thunder boomed then rain pounded and she crawled under a bush, chest heaving. But its shelter was poor and she struggled to her knees to look for somewhere more protected.

  By the ’green! There was a man at the edge of the trees. Kira dropped back to the ground, heart thrashing, and watched him closely. He didn’t appear to have seen her, and she hugged herself fearfully. He wasn’t Shargh, she realised with relief, but he might be just as deadly.

  She remained still and the thunder finally rumbled away, the rain easing. The stranger moved restlessly around his camp, but seemed in no hurry to depart. Kira could see from the way he held himself that he was injured, and guessed it might be the reason for his delay.

  But she couldn’t afford to wait any longer, her journey north urgent. Careful not to make any sudden movements, she rose to her knees again. The man swung toward her in an instant, sword in hand. Kira gasped and fumbled for her sword, even as her wits told her to run. But her cramped legs refused to move.

  There was a shout behind her and Kira cringed. Then, out of the night three dark shapes raced towards the stranger. They were Shargh! The squeal of metal against metal filled the night. The stranger’s sword arm flashed, skilled and agile, felling one Shargh. But two remained, and the stranger was tiring.

  Conflicting thoughts hammered at Kira, holding her still. She couldn’t aid the stranger by using her sword – she wasn’t a barbaric Terak Kutan who took life as easily as draining a cup. But was she to sneak away and let the stranger die at the Shargh’s hands? Too many of her people had already died at their hands. It had been a long time since she’d played at fighting with Tresen in the Warens, but his instructions came back to her: the point of the neck to aim for; a quick death, a clean death.

  Kira gritted her teeth and crept forward, looking for the best angle of attack. The stranger was tiring rapidly. As one of the Shargh leapt backwards, away from a thrusting parry, Kira screwed her eyes shut and brought the blade down with all her strength. The sword sliced through flesh and bit bone. Then her arms were all but yanked from their sockets, and she was wrenched after the rolling body, landing on her back. The remaining Shargh was on her in an instant, flatsword high.

  The stranger’s sword struck home and the Shargh’s flatsword clattered off into the bushes. There was a thud as the Shargh’s body hit the ground.

  ‘Are … you … hurt?’ said the stranger, leaning over Kira and using Onespeak, low and urgent, interspersed with heaving pants. He repeated the question in a language she didn’t know, then in Tremen, then in another strange tongue, but Kira was shaking too much to comprehend him.

  He withdrew, then came back and pulled her to her feet. He brought a metal cup urgently to her mouth. Morning-bright mixed with strange herbs, she realised numbly. Within a few moments heat sprang from her belly to her limbs, bringing a surge of strength. Kira leaned over, spat out the dregs and struggled to control the heave of her stomach. The stranger’s hand came to her arm, steadying her.

  ‘Where there are three Shargh, there’ll be more,’ he said in Onespeak, his voice still ragged with the effort of the fight. ‘We must leave this place.’ He hauled her upright, but Kira staggered, retched and was violently ill.

  Her retching had scarcely stopped before he had her upright again.

  ‘I must wash,’ she said, dredging up the words in Onespeak.

  ‘No time,’ he replied, pulling his pack on and cleaning his sword and hers on the grass.

  Nearby, the slain Shargh lay like branches felled by winter storms. Kira averted her eyes, suddenly overcome by the horror of what she’d done. She’d pushed filthy metal through another living being, sliced open his flesh and stopped his heart. She’d killed! She’d betrayed everything Kasheron had fought for, everything the Tremen believed in.

  The stranger looked up at the sky, brought the back of his hand to his forehead, and spoke under his breath. Then he turned to her.

  ‘Come,’ he said.

  ‘Do you go north?’ asked Kira hoarsely.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, handing her back her sword.

  Kira hesitated. The stranger had spoken Tremen earlier, but she realised abruptly it couldn’t be Tremen. It must be Terak. Maybe he was Terak Kutan, since the Tremen’s northern kin would have a similar tongue. But the stranger had used other languages too. What did that tell her? That he travelled a good deal? If so, he’d know where he was going. Still, she knew nothing about him except the Shargh hated him, and that he fought well. Perhaps that was reason enough to go with him, besides the fact he was going north.

  ‘Come,’ he repeated, beckoning her.

  Not knowing what else to do, Kira followed.

  The land quickly steepened, the bushes giving way to boulders and broken stone among trees that soared to great heights. The ground was slick and the storm had unleashed a thousand scents. The frantic beat of her heart gradually slowed.

  They toiled on, the cloud clearing and the fiery blaze of the stars eclipsing the moon’s wan light. Glancing behind, Kira saw the dim outline of the Dendora Plain far below, a pale sweep blotched with trees. Were the Shargh still in the foothills or sliding through the trees behind them, she wondered.

  Abruptly, the stranger stopped and turned. ‘We need be careful for the next part,’ he said. ‘Shardos likes to shed his skin and the path changes with every climbing.’

  Shardos? thought Kira. Was it the name of the mountain? And what did he mean by shedding its skin? Her Onespeak was unpractised, so perhaps she hadn’t understood.

  The stranger moved ahead slowly now, testing the ground with a stick and gesturing to Kira to place her feet where he placed his. The trees thinned as they picked their way forward; those that remained were gnarled with splayed roots that gripped the ground like hands. There was little undergrowth, as if only the deeper-rooted trees could survive. Even in the darkness, Kira was horribly aware of the drop that had opened beside them.

  The stranger edged round a series of large broken boulders that seemed to hang in space and Kira stopped. Her pack felt as if it had doubled in weight.

  ‘Come,’ he said, his voice gentle.

  Kira willed her feet to move, but nothing happened.

  ‘Not far now,’ he said, reaching out his hand.

  Kira crept forward. She’d only gone a few paces when a grinding noise sounded and she felt the stone under her feet move. For a single heartbeat nothing happened, then it tilted and began to slide.

  The stranger’s hand clamped around Kira’s wrist, arresting her fall. Over the sound of the rock crashing away through the trees, his voice came to her again, calm and strong. ‘Turn … now.’

  Numbly, Kira obeyed.

  ‘Hand on tor … now right foot there … slowly, slowly.’

  Step by step, Kira followed the path he spoke for her, terror clouding her sight and roaring in her ears. But she was held by his hand and his mind, and he coaxed her safely to his side. Then her legs lost all rigidity and she clung to him, his warmth and closeness like food and rest, the sweet spice scent of him comforting.

  ‘I thank you,’ she said, when she had breath enough.

  ‘I should thank you, for you saved my life, yet I don’t know your name,’ he replied.

  Kira hesitated, suddenly wary.

  ‘Perhaps the debt dictates I introduce myself first,
’ he said. ‘I am Caledon e Saridon e Talliel.’

  ‘Caledon e Saridon e Talliel,’ echoed Kira.

  ‘In these lands, I’m called Caledon.’

  ‘I’m Kira.’

  ‘The Saridon are honoured,’ he said, and bowed.

  Kira though it odd that he referred to himself so formally, unless she’d misunderstood him, which was possible. If only she knew more Onespeak!

  ‘It’s past the mid point of the night but we’re close to a place where we can rest. Can you go on?’ he said.

  ‘Does the path continue like this?’ she asked.

  ‘I haven’t journeyed here for five years and Shardos might have sent stone from above or eaten the path from below, but the ground’s more solid after the sida groves,’ he said, pointing to dark shapes ahead.

  ‘We should go then,’ said Kira.

  The unstable stone gradually gave way to the firmness of grass and stands of small shapely trees.

  The sida looked like ashaels close up, but their scent was different. Black insects buzzed in their branches though Kira could see nothing to attract them: no blooms or seeds or other small creatures they might feed off.

  ‘Night-hovers,’ said Caledon, noting her gaze on the insects. ‘They pierce the stems and feed on the sap. You can too, if you’re thirsty.’

  Startled, she looked at him.

  ‘You have to be very thirsty. Not far now,’ he said, smiling, then starting off again.

  Kira took three sips from her waterskin, a habit she’d developed to save water and sate hunger, and forced her trembling legs on. Kest had told her to eat one and a half handfuls of nutmeat every day to maintain her strength, but to do so would have meant carrying nutmeat at the expense of herbs. She had hoped to gather on the Dendora, but there had been nothing there – she’d never seen such barren land. As a result, she’d had to eat very little to make her food last the eight days it had taken her to cross the plain. Her breeches were loose no matter how much she tightened them, and her shirt flapped.

  The night-hovers bounced off her face and tangled in her hair, and Kira beat at them, repelled by their nearness. Caledon slowed, then veered upwards through the sidas, and all but disappeared. Kira struggled after him through the thick leaf-fall. Why couldn’t their shelter be down the slope instead of up?