The Wraiths of Will and Pleasure - By Storm Constantine Page 0,193

she said.

‘This is Freygard, domain of the tribe of Freyhella,’ said the har. ‘And I am Galdra, chesnari of our leader, Tyr.’

Lileem closed her eyes because her head was aching. Would they be safe here? Would the Gelaming assume they’d all been killed? She remembered calling upon Pellaz and how he had inspired her to summon Aruhani. Pellaz must know she was alive. But perhaps all that she had done was use her own energy to help them escape. The Tigron she had met might only have been a dehar, another Pellaz, created solely in her own mind.

Galdra wiped her face gently with the scented cloth and then offered her water to drink. Lileem told him her name. He clearly did not realise she was anything other than har.

The Freyhella are by nature superstitious, and therefore their leader, Tyr, interviewed the bewildered crew and passengers of Night’s Arrow as soon as they were able to rise from their beds. He was anxious to know exactly what his hara had witnessed on the day the winds had died and whether there would be any repercussions for his tribe, whether practically or magically.

The day following Lileem’s awakening, Galdra took her to a council chamber in the Great Hall, in the centre of the town. Its ceiling was supported by vast wooden columns, covered in carvings. Tyr sat upon a throne of carved wood, on a raised dais, with a company of warriors arranged to either side of him. He was a tall har with frightening pale blue eyes. His hair was like unravelled silk, which had somehow got into a tangle. It fell over his breast, where an armoury of metal amulets clanked on chains. Around his shoulders was a cloak of wolfskin.

Before the dais, stood Flick, Ulaume and Mima. Tyr was not paying any attention to them: he conferred with his hara. Lileem’s companions appeared well, if exhausted. They were dressed, as she was, in Freyhellan garb of tunic and trousers, decorated with embroidered designs of sea creatures. Lileem went to them and embraced each in turn. The same words were on all their lips: ‘We should be dead’. Lileem said nothing to this. She needed to speak to Flick in private about it first.

When Tel-an-Kaa strode into the chamber, only minutes after Lileem’s arrival, Lileem did not recognise her. For a few moments, she thought this was a high-ranking har she had never met before, but then realised it was actually the Zigane, shorn of all her glamours and disguises. Tel-an-Kaa would speak for them, for she radiated authority.

Flick said to Lileem, in an undertone, ‘We have died after all. We are in Valhalla among the Norse gods.’ He had told her about the Norse legends long ago, in the lost days of curiosity and play at the white house.

Lileem smiled. ‘Then Tel-an-Kaa is the trickster Loki come to fox them.’

‘Let’s see,’ said Flick.

One of Tyr’s advisors addressed the Zigane. ‘Where is the captain of your ship? Archon Tyr wishes to speak with him.’

‘I am sanctioned to speak on his behalf,’ Tel-an-Kaa replied. ‘It is with me and my companions you should talk. We were passengers on the ship, and what happened was because of us. This is why I have requested this audience with you and why our captain has given me authority to speak.’

‘Then speak,’ Tyr said, gesturing with one hand.

Tel-an-Kaa inclined her head. ‘Thank you, tiahaar.’

Surprisingly, Tel-an-Kaa mostly told the truth. She said – perhaps guessing the independent Freyhella would not hold a high opinion of the Gelaming – that she and her companions had been pursued by Gelaming, who wished to take them to Immanion. She said that some of them were former friends of the Tigron, and held sensitive information about his past. For this reason, the Gelaming were keen to capture them. She spoke of the efforts of the Roselane shamans to combat the magical attack, and how they had managed at the last moment to create a fissure in the vortex, thus enabling an escape. It was Roselane magic that had protected them during their tumultuous journey towards the land. Such was the power of the shamans.

Tyr seemed to accept this explanation, although he was clearly not happy about fugitives from the Gelaming being in his domain. ‘You will travel to Roselane now?’ he asked.

‘As soon as we are able,’ Tel-an-Kaa said. ‘Any help you could give us regarding transport would be much appreciated. I don’t know what remains of our possessions, but