Law of the Wolf Tower: The Claidi Journals Book 1 by Tanith Lee (black authors fiction txt) 📕

the marsh sometimes cause weird colours. But the sky went lavender, and the sun was ginger. And these tones mixed in the water. Lightning fluttered, dry, without rain or wind or thunder. And the lightning was rainbow-coloured, and in shapes – like branching trees, like bridges, like rolling wheels.

He said, ‘It’s pretty. I’ve never seen this, although I’ve heard of it. Marsh lightning. It’s nothing, of course, to City fireworks.’

When we got here, to River Jaws, it was yesterday. The marsh ends here, and from the upper storey of the guest-house, if it is, you can see over the lines and ranks of reeds, to an endless sheet of water. Wide River.

It does sink down and rise up, tidal, as he said.

They seem to be servants here. They speak the language I do, and some other language. Nemian can speak both of these.

The reason we’re waiting: Nemian sent someone from here to arrange another boat.

No sooner did I write that, than Nemian came by, just now, and enthusiastically told me we’ll leave tomorrow.

In three days, he enthused, we’ll be there. In his City with the fireworks and the Wolf Tower. His home. Mine.

HIS CITY

Wide River’s wide. One seems to drift, in the middle of space, or the sky. Because the sky reflects in the River, and they become one. And there’s only the boat, no land on either side.

A huge curved sail, filling slowly with steady, breathing wind. Like a lung.

They were slaves. I mean, the people who waited on us. I’d never been waited on, the opposite, of course. I wasn’t keen on it. And, they were slaves, not servants. Two men and a woman, who sat in the boat’s back – its stern – cross-legged, heads down, ready for Nemian to call or snap his fingers.

Also there were two sailors, to drive the boat. (Or, it was a ship, I think.) Very respectful. No, they grovelled.

Feeling so uncomfortable with this, I spent a lot of time sitting by the side, staring out.

Sunset the first night was glorious.

‘Look at all the gold,’ I said to Nemian. Every so often I tried to speak to him.

‘If you like that, I think I can really please you,’ said Nemian.

Baffled, I let him take me to the cabin room where I was to sleep. The slave woman was there, and bowed almost to her knees.

‘The Princess Claidissa,’ said Nemian, ‘will be shown the dress now.’

So then the poor old slave undid a chest and brought out this dress.

Even in the House, I admit, I never saw a dress quite so magnificent. In the wild light reflecting off sky and River, the golden tissue of the dress seemed made of fire.

‘That’s what you’ll wear,’ announced Nemian, ‘when we sail into my City.’

I was meant to be thrilled, and thank him, and tweet with delight.

Well, I did thank him.

‘It’s a very grand dress.’

‘Oh I know you prefer simple clothes,’ said Nemian, kindly, ‘Jizania told me about that. I even do believe you used to polish the odd table or whatever it was. You’re a funny little thing. But in public, you’ll need to dress up.’

Obviously, not to let him down. That was fair. He was bringing me back, showing me off. I had to be acceptable to them. It was worrying, all this. If I was to be with him – I mean be with him as a companion, perhaps a wife (I’d never been sure) I’d have to be responsible. Take pains.

Princess Claidissa.

Oh.

‘Oh,’ I said, quite humbly.

We had dinner on the deck, waited on hand and foot, arm and leg, as it were. Wine and fruit and dishes under silver covers.

Rather like the House.

What had I expected?

Maybe, at the start, I’d even wanted it, to be served, have things done for me. What other system had I ever been shown – it was either lord it, or live as a slave.

Since then …

I chatted brightly. Oh, see, there were birds flying over. Oh, look, there was an island with a tree.

Dusk went to night. I went in to sleep. Couldn’t.

It was almost four days, in the end. The wind was often slow, the tides made it take longer, or something. They said these things to him, apologizing, acting bothered in case he got angry. But Nemian, thank God, was just offhand and idle with them, only slightly impatient once or twice. Never rude or vicious or violent.

On the last day, the land began to appear regularly on either side. But the weather had changed. It got chilly. The skies, the water, were two silk sheets of grey.

Then clouds came, and rain fell in tired little sprinkles.

Just after lunch, a tall, tall, smooth, slim, grey stone appeared, standing on the nearer bank – we could now see both of them. There wasn’t much else. A few trees, trailing down into the water, and a flattish plain, with thin mountain shapes on the left that must be months in the distance. (Altogether rather a bare sort of place, it seemed.)

‘Ah!’ cried Nemian though, and jumped up.

He saluted the pillar, or whatever it was, standing very straight, just as it was. And all the slaves and boat-slaves bowed over double.

Nemian turned to me. His face was alight with energy.

‘Only an hour or so more, Claidissa. Then we’ll be there.’

I felt immediately sick. This seemed ridiculous. I should be interested, at least.

‘I’m so glad,’ I said.

‘Go and get ready now, Claidissa.’

‘Oh, but—’

‘It’s all right. I’ll change on deck in that tent thing. Just concentrate on yourself.’

In fact I’d been going to say I wouldn’t need ‘an hour or so’ to get ready. But it wouldn’t matter, really, so I did what he said, and the woman slave followed me into the cabin.

How wrong I was. It did take all of two hours.

First washing, and hair-washing, and drying, and then perfumes and things. All fine, only I felt peculiar, so it wasn’t.

Then the slave dressed me in lace undies, and slid me into the golden