Read Online Impossible Things by Kate Johnson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kate Johnson
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Madam Julia sharply.
Kael let out a long breath.
‘Will you not speak, Ishtaer?’ asked Killen softly. The rest started squabbling.
‘My lord,’ she whispered sideways.
‘Mmm?’ Kael said.
‘I don’t understand. Inservio?’
A pause. ‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘You’ll get a new name soon. Once you’ve graduated the Academy. And maybe we’ll find out who your people are. Then you can be named for them.’
‘You don’t
know
—’ Madam Julia yelped.
‘Perhaps you’d better start at the beginning,’ said Sir Flavius crisply.
A pause, and the rattle of Kael’s coffee cup. Then he said, ‘As you say,’ and proceeded to give a potted history of Ishtaer as he knew her.
A very potted history. He managed to glaze over their entire time at Samara’s compound with, ‘I noticed she bore the marks of the Chosen and brought her back to my ship,’ and utterly failed to mention how she’d nearly gelded him and he’d left her to die in a cell.
He told the committee what he did know of her life before she became a slave, and as he spoke it became clearer to Ishtaer too. ‘She was raised as an orphan in a workhouse on the Saranos,’ he said. ‘She doesn’t know who her parents were. She worked in domestic service before escaping to sea, where she was sold as a slave.’
No, that’s not right
. She’d never been sold. She’d been … captured, that was more the word. From the terror and pain and anger of the ship to the chaos on deck, the crash of timber and the smash of swords, men screaming and dying and the deck running red with blood, and the devil raising his sword and roaring at her—
‘Ishtaer?’
The old man’s voice. Startled, she shook herself.
‘Are you all right?’ That was Kael.
Rapidly, she nodded. Footsteps sounded, and the swish of cloth, and someone smelling of medicinal herbs was in front of her. Madam Julia. Her fingers were cool against Ishtaer’s wrist.
‘She’s terrified, my lord. What have you been doing to her?’
‘Me? I’ve been saving her life, that’s what I’ve been doing. Should have seen her when I found her. Starved, crippled—’
‘Crippled?’
‘Yes, she – look, you tell her, Ishtaer. You’ve hardly said a word all morning.’
You hardly gave me opportunity.
‘I broke my leg,’ she said, and then frowned and corrected herself. ‘My leg was broken.’
‘Not usually enough to cripple someone,’ Madam Julia said. ‘Especially not a Healer. Had your mark manifested by then?’
Ishtaer nodded. ‘But she had no crystals,’ Kael put in for her, ‘and had never heard of the Chosen, anyway.’
‘Hmm. So it was never set? I suppose that would cause problems,’ Madam Julia mused. ‘May I see?’
Ishtaer nodded, and the Healer pushed up the skirts of her dress to the knee. She chattered with Ishtaer about the injury and about how Karnos had set it. ‘That old misery,’ Julia called him.
‘A misery who’s saved my life a handful of times,’ Kael told her.
‘Hmm. We might work on that scar, Ishtaer, but the bone has healed quite nicely. What have you healed since you got your crystals?’
Ishtaer showed the woman the palm of her hand. ‘I was burned here.’
‘And there’s not a mark on it. Very good. What burned you?’
She hesitated. ‘Tell her,’ said Killen’s voice.
‘A-a brand,’ she stammered.
A short silence, then Scipius said, ‘Like a cattle brand?’
‘Exactly like a cattle brand,’ said Kael. ‘Lady Samara is not a pleasant woman. I imagine I’ll have an interesting conversation with the Emperor about her later.’
‘I see,’ Madam Julia said, although it was quite clear she didn’t. ‘And have you any knowledge of herbs?’
Ishtaer forced herself to be still.
Don’t try to impress them. Don’t pretend to be better than you are.
‘Some,’ she said.
‘Some? Ishtaer – look, will you look at me, please? How I’m supposed to carry on a conversation with the top of your head, I’ve no
Kael let out a long breath.
‘Will you not speak, Ishtaer?’ asked Killen softly. The rest started squabbling.
‘My lord,’ she whispered sideways.
‘Mmm?’ Kael said.
‘I don’t understand. Inservio?’
A pause. ‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘You’ll get a new name soon. Once you’ve graduated the Academy. And maybe we’ll find out who your people are. Then you can be named for them.’
‘You don’t
know
—’ Madam Julia yelped.
‘Perhaps you’d better start at the beginning,’ said Sir Flavius crisply.
A pause, and the rattle of Kael’s coffee cup. Then he said, ‘As you say,’ and proceeded to give a potted history of Ishtaer as he knew her.
A very potted history. He managed to glaze over their entire time at Samara’s compound with, ‘I noticed she bore the marks of the Chosen and brought her back to my ship,’ and utterly failed to mention how she’d nearly gelded him and he’d left her to die in a cell.
He told the committee what he did know of her life before she became a slave, and as he spoke it became clearer to Ishtaer too. ‘She was raised as an orphan in a workhouse on the Saranos,’ he said. ‘She doesn’t know who her parents were. She worked in domestic service before escaping to sea, where she was sold as a slave.’
No, that’s not right
. She’d never been sold. She’d been … captured, that was more the word. From the terror and pain and anger of the ship to the chaos on deck, the crash of timber and the smash of swords, men screaming and dying and the deck running red with blood, and the devil raising his sword and roaring at her—
‘Ishtaer?’
The old man’s voice. Startled, she shook herself.
‘Are you all right?’ That was Kael.
Rapidly, she nodded. Footsteps sounded, and the swish of cloth, and someone smelling of medicinal herbs was in front of her. Madam Julia. Her fingers were cool against Ishtaer’s wrist.
‘She’s terrified, my lord. What have you been doing to her?’
‘Me? I’ve been saving her life, that’s what I’ve been doing. Should have seen her when I found her. Starved, crippled—’
‘Crippled?’
‘Yes, she – look, you tell her, Ishtaer. You’ve hardly said a word all morning.’
You hardly gave me opportunity.
‘I broke my leg,’ she said, and then frowned and corrected herself. ‘My leg was broken.’
‘Not usually enough to cripple someone,’ Madam Julia said. ‘Especially not a Healer. Had your mark manifested by then?’
Ishtaer nodded. ‘But she had no crystals,’ Kael put in for her, ‘and had never heard of the Chosen, anyway.’
‘Hmm. So it was never set? I suppose that would cause problems,’ Madam Julia mused. ‘May I see?’
Ishtaer nodded, and the Healer pushed up the skirts of her dress to the knee. She chattered with Ishtaer about the injury and about how Karnos had set it. ‘That old misery,’ Julia called him.
‘A misery who’s saved my life a handful of times,’ Kael told her.
‘Hmm. We might work on that scar, Ishtaer, but the bone has healed quite nicely. What have you healed since you got your crystals?’
Ishtaer showed the woman the palm of her hand. ‘I was burned here.’
‘And there’s not a mark on it. Very good. What burned you?’
She hesitated. ‘Tell her,’ said Killen’s voice.
‘A-a brand,’ she stammered.
A short silence, then Scipius said, ‘Like a cattle brand?’
‘Exactly like a cattle brand,’ said Kael. ‘Lady Samara is not a pleasant woman. I imagine I’ll have an interesting conversation with the Emperor about her later.’
‘I see,’ Madam Julia said, although it was quite clear she didn’t. ‘And have you any knowledge of herbs?’
Ishtaer forced herself to be still.
Don’t try to impress them. Don’t pretend to be better than you are.
‘Some,’ she said.
‘Some? Ishtaer – look, will you look at me, please? How I’m supposed to carry on a conversation with the top of your head, I’ve no