An Elegy of Heroes
Page 124
“Is it too much to hope for?”
He swallowed, the irritation plain on his face, now. “It is. You keep pushing it. What for, anyway? He’s never needed anything more than my compliance.”
“I don’t mean him,” Sume said. “I was talking about us.”
“What about us?” His voice was very low.
“After all we’ve been through, are we just going to forget everything we’ve shared in Shirrokaru?”
“Perhaps you should stop pretending that it meant anything to you.”
“I’m talking about the friendship. Remember how we used to laugh at Narani and Sagar? The…” Sume stopped, realizing that she was failing miserably at lifting his mood. She could sense an ocean of rage bubbling underneath the surface. “I miss…talking to you, Kefier,” she whispered.
“Talk to Enosh,” he growled.
“It’s not the same.”
“Why not? Aren’t we supposed to be interchangeable?”
“That’s what you’ve thought all these years? Oh, Sakku…” She felt like banging her head against the railing. “Please, remind me again what language we’re speaking in right now.”
That seems to startle him. They had been conversing in Jinan, with the same Akkian tilt that her brother Oji had taught him. “It doesn’t make a difference,” he said. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself; he knew what it meant to her.
“Enosh detests the language.”
“So I make up for whatever he lacks. I’m a placeholder. I fill up holes he’s left unattended.”
Sume slapped him. The action seemed to sting her hand more than it hurt him. She chalked it up to his hard head. Kefier stared at her, motionless.
“I don’t understand why you’re punishing me,” Sume said. “I may have made mistakes, but I didn’t exactly force them on you. There were two participants to this charade, Kefier, you and me, and I never made you any promises. I thought I made that clear.”
He snorted, looking away. “You did,” he conceded.
“So why get angry?”
“Because you’re still here. Fucking hell, Sume, what do you want me to say? That I’m tired of playing second fiddle to my brother, but you’ve left me absolutely no choice because of his questionable sense of responsibility?
“You and Rosha, both of you, have made it impossible for me to remove myself from him. It was bad enough the first time. Now I can’t live a life where I’m not constantly reminded how great it would be if Enosh had followed through, but oh well, I’m sure Kefier could do a passable job. All of you, Yn Garr included, must be in on it.”
The pain in his voice was palpable. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, with the sense that she had strayed further from the subject than she had intended to. She should not have brought it up—she was no longer in a position to offer him comfort.
He barely heard it. “No, you don’t understand. Listen to this. Did he tell you we have different mothers?”
“He mentioned it.”
Kefier shook his head. “We don’t. I found out recently, from our father’s old journals. We were both bastards. But they hid the truth from the village in order to preserve his status. Yet the entire village of Aldawan loathed me, who had the misfortune of being born right under their noses. The sister who came after me didn’t even get a grave. I believe they threw her body into the sea.”
“Sakku,” she breathed. “I’m sorry, Kefier. I didn’t know.” She took one step towards him, trembling. He backed away.
“I don’t want pity. I’m just telling you how it is. This is what you’re asking me to deal with, all over again. Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you care,” Kefier snarled. “I’m glad I don’t have the baggage I’m sure he has to deal with. It couldn’t have been easy dealing with the delusions that came with being our father’s firstborn. They left me alone, which suited me just fine. Our mother loved us both equally. I just…”
Somehow, during his raving, Sume had closed the gap between them. Her hand was on his chest. Kefier looked down at her. “Not another step,” he whispered. “You chose him, Sume.”
“It wasn’t really a choice,” she mumbled.
“You keep telling yourself that.” He pressed his hand over hers for a moment before pulling it away.
“You could have followed me.”
“You could have stayed. But you needed to know, didn’t you? You needed to know what would happen if you brought him back into your life.” Kefier’s eyes flashed. “Was it exactly how you dreamed it would be?”
No, she wanted to say. But the words wouldn’t come out.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“Play the indifferent sister-in-law,” he said in a low voice. “Leave me the hell alone.”
“It’s not going to be easy.”
“Is it any easier for me, you think? But you’ll do it. We are at least the sort of people who can hold up our ends of the bargain. You’ll deal with it, Sume.” His last sentence came out as a hiss. She felt tears in the corners of her eyes.
“And then when this is all done,” Kefier continued, “you and I will go our separate ways and never speak again.”
“Just like that?” she asked. “What if I don’t want you to go?”
“What if I asked you to leave him?”
She looked into his eyes. His lips twitched. “This is how it played out, Sume,” he whispered. “You can’t have everything you want.” His eyes softened. “I know you enough to understand that you will not leave him if you have already given him your word. The bastard doesn’t deserve it, but I think you know what you’re getting into.”
“Can I not even talk to you about it?” Her voice had shrunk to a faint wisp, more for her ears than his. She already knew the answer. He drew away from her, looking down at the empty field below.
“I hear horses,” Kefier murmured. He headed for the ladder.
Sume forced her tears back and followed him.
The doors burst open just as they arrived in the main hall. Caiso appeared, looking jubilant. “This hellish day just turned around,” he said, pointing at Kefier. “My men found Ylir yn Garr in the Gorenten village. He turned the child over to our custody. She’s safe and on her way to Fort Oras right now.”
Sume felt herself grow cold. “He turned her over?”
Caiso snapped his fingers. “Just like that. He has the sort of sense that Commander Kefier here lacks.” He looked at Kefier. “I’m sorry, Kefier, but as I’ve explained…”
“Yes, right. Choices,” Kefier murmured. “I’m going to kill that piece of shit. Where is he?”
“Back at the village, I suppose. I don’t know.” Caiso shrugged. “I wasn’t going to try to detain him. Yn Garr wants you and the girl.”
“Did you at least bring me a horse, or are you planning to tie me up behind you like a prisoner?”
“Don’t be so fucking dramatic, Commander,” Caiso said. He gestured at one man, who nodded and stepped outside. Caiso cocked his head at Kefier. “We can go in the morning.”
“I want to leave now so that you don’t get any sleep, you son of a bitch,” Kefier said.
Caiso grinned. “You know I’m used to sleepless nights, but let’s have it your way.” He bowed at Sume. “No hard feelings.”
“I’ve got plenty,” Sume murmured. “All the same, please don’t hurt them.”
“That was never the plan,” Caiso replied.
Kefier gave her one last glance, but said nothing. He strode out of the doors, followed by the rest of the mercenaries. Standing there alone, she felt like the whole world had gone and collapsed after she had thought she had finally found a way to piece it back together.
Some battles, it seemed, were never meant to be won.
Sume woke up to the sound of Ishir pushing a cup of coffee towards her. She had fallen asleep at the table. “Is it sunrise?” she asked, choking down a scalding mouthful. It was too bitter, but
she didn’t care.
“Just about,” Ishir said.
“Do you think you can show me where the village is?”
Ishir nodded. “A walk will be good for these old joints.”
She got dressed and took some time to check on Mahe and Daro. “Fever’s broken,” Daro said, his face marred by lines that had not been there when they first landed on those shores. “Small miracles, I suppose. I heard what happened last night.”
“I wish I could say I’m disappointed,” Sume replied. “But I think a part of me expected this.”
Daro gave a laugh. “Take what comfort you can get from it.” He glanced at her outfit. “I guess you’re about to head down to confront him. While I don’t want to deny you the satisfaction of shaking the life out of him, please remember that we have to head back to Lon Basden to send word to Eheldeth at some point. I’d like to have him with us when that happens.”
“I can’t promise that,” Sume said with a sigh. She turned to Mahe, who was sleeping against the crook of Daro’s arm. Her skin, which had been damp and held the yellowish tinge of death just days ago, had returned to a healthy pink colour. Sume was glad to see it—there was enough sorrow in the world.
She took her leave and was on the trail with Ishir not even an hour later. The old man walked faster than she did, whistling under a straw hat he must’ve made himself. It was amazing how deceptive mornings could be.
They made their way down from the mountain by midday. Sume caught sight of Enosh standing by a fence, watching people till the soil a few paces away. He deliberately didn’t turn to greet her, even when it was clear he could hear her approach.
“How many excuses have you come up with since last night?” she asked.
“Forty-five,” Enosh said quickly. “Counting the completely ridiculous ones, of course.” He met her eyes. “There were too many of them and we had nowhere else to go. I didn’t want them to start killing everyone.”
Sume glanced at the villagers. Every single one were Gorenten. “You couldn’t have gone away with her?”
“We had no horses. They would’ve caught up to us, eventually.”
“It just seems like you gave up too easily. Handing your daughter over to strange men, just like that…”
“They were going to take Kefier, too. She’s safe with him.”
“I can’t believe you were counting on that.”
Enosh smiled. “My dear, they all but said it. I didn’t want to argue with them. If they had decided that Yn Garr would’ve benefited from knowing about me—”
“So you gave her up to protect yourself?”
“You’re not listening to me,” Enosh said. “You do recall Arn’s assassins? The soldiers under Kefier’s employ seemed very level-headed in comparison. I didn’t want to push my luck.”
Sume understood Enosh’s reasoning. But the stark contrast of his calm voice, compared to Kefier’s broken tones from the night before, stood out. “Daro says our next step should be to return to Lon Basden,” she said.
Enosh nodded. “A sound plan. We need to assist Eheldeth. I doubt they’d give us any other choice, anyway.”
“But what are we going to about Rosha?”
“What about her? Kefier will keep her safe.”
“He doesn’t think he can, not against what Yn Garr wants. Every moment she spends in his keeping is a risk.”
“I have no army willing to die at my behest, Sume,” Enosh said. “We have little choice in the matter.”
“But if you talked to Yn Garr…”
Enosh’s eyes hardened. “Never suggest such a thing to me again.”
“Jarche told me you’re holding on to an argument of your own making,” she said. “Yn Garr would have you back in a heartbeat, if you’d let him. We could use that to our advantage.”
“I will not debase myself in front of that son of a bitch,” Enosh said.
“Let me understand something here,” Sume replied. “Your daughter is not worth an emotional reaction from you, yet your pride is?”
Enosh snorted. “The man all but led me to believe that I and my work had value to him. That he needed me as much as I needed him—that he could not function without my help. Yet at the first sign of trouble—when he wasn’t getting the results he wanted—he dropped me without a second thought. Tell me, how do I go back to a master like that, Sume? He would know it was a ruse the moment I showed up on his doorstep. Then we’d all be dead.” He placed his hands on the fence, all but slamming his weight down on it.
Sume felt like she was talking to a wall, or at least like she was having two different conversations. Did Enosh even occupy the same world the rest of them did? It didn’t seem like it. She fell silent. He didn’t notice.
“It all makes sense now, what he’s doing. He’s been trying to feed this sick revenge fantasy he has, after feeding me this nonsense about the greater good and setting the world aright when all he really wants is to set the entire Dageian nation aflame. I think I’ve always felt something wasn’t quite right, but I was too young to know any better. And don’t get me started about Jarche. She knew everything, yet she hid it from me. They’ve created this twisted world where people become pawns for their own, selfish ideals…”
“How,” Sume broke in, “is that any different from what you do?”
Enosh licked his lips, looking at her. “I learned from the best,” he murmured.
“But let me guess—it’s not a thing you do anymore, am I right?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he shook his head. She held her breath. “With you, at least, and Rosha…” He must’ve caught her expression, because a look of resignation came over him. “Look, I’m not going to pretend I’m any better than those two. It gets results. In this world, some people are sheep and others are wolves. But it’s different. They want destruction. I want growth. I want to build things where they only want to tear them down.”
“And the people who get in the way of your dreams? Are they worth nothing, in the end?”
Enosh swallowed. “You don’t have to understand if you don’t want to. Just be clear on what I’m not willing to do.” The finality in his tone was clear. He was not the sort of man who gave more than he wanted you to take.
“As you wish, my lord,” she said in a low voice.
“My lady,” he replied, taking her surrender with a touch of relief. She watched him stalk off towards one of the huts, the exhaustion creeping up on her. She turned and caught sight of one of the farmers, who drew close, a basket on her hip.
“It’s your turn to be caught between Meirosh’s sons. A fate I would not wish on anyone—their heads are harder than the cliffs of Gorent itself.” The woman glanced at Enosh.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” Sume said.
“I think you do,” the woman said. Another farmer called her from the distance. She stepped away, a knowing smile on the edge of her lips, and left Sume alone with her thoughts.
Chapter Seven
The docks of Lon Basden looked like any other Dageian city that Enosh had seen, characterized by smooth, poured limestone piers, lighthouses, and guard towers, with only the lack of airship towers as the noticeable difference. Lon Basden was seen as too far away to be safely navigated by commercial airships, and so had never been connected to the regular routes. Private airship owners traversed the Orasmus Strait on occasion, but such a journey required extensive paperwork to use the guard towers for disembarking and was hardly done.
On closer inspection, however, Enosh could detect hints of the old city of Gentigen, which had been what Lon Basden was called for centuries before the Dageians came. Beyond the docks, the buildings showed architecture different from the clean, straight lines the Dageians preferred—mossy arches, statues carved from crumbling rock, layered stone walls, and low, domed towers with tiled roofs of baked clay.
It irritated him that he had never gone here before. He remembered begging Yn Garr to be allowed, but the man thought it was
too dangerous for a boy with ties to the agan and looked Gorenten. Officials would likely arrest him on sight, before he could produce the necessary papers.
He remembered thinking that the caution seemed excessive, even silly. A Gorenten did not stand out in Dageis as much as one did in the Kag. Centuries of conquest, interbreeding with the native populace, and immigration had made a “Dageian race” impossible to pinpoint. Izo As’ondaro, for example, could’ve passed as a lighter-skinned Gorenten. Kastor rog-Bannal, on the other hand, was as blue-eyed and yellow-haired as any Baidhan.
The thought of Bannal made Enosh smile sardonically. “What’s the bloody bastard been up to?” he asked.
Sapphire cleared her throat. “You were talking to me?”
“No, I was talking to that cat over there.”
She stared at him for a second. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
“Eheldeth did wonders to your sense of humour. Did you notice?”
“Not particularly.” She pointed at one of the buildings in the distance. “Bearer Kastor should have arrived well before us. He’s been combing through the Kag over these past few years and seems to have produced a good amount of information. Whether they’re of any use to us or not is another question altogether.”
“You’re awfully polite. It’s okay to call him something else, you know. Something like ‘Rotten Donkey Droppings’ comes to mind. He did kill your sister.”
“You need not remind me,” she said.
He snorted. “And investigating in the Kag sounds like a convenient way to say ‘Hey, instead of actually doing something important, like say, track Giggles down in a likely area, let me go to the opposite end of the continent so I can guzzle ale and smack women while pretending I’m doing something important.’”
“While I appreciate what seems to me like an attempt at a comforting conversation, that sounds more like something you would do.”
“You wound me, Lady Sapphire. I thought you would know me better by now. I don’t guzzle ale. I sip.”
“I stand corrected.”
“I also take my women to fancy restaurants. And nice plays. Maybe I should take Sume. I’ve never taken her anywhere before.” Enosh looked thoughtfully at the horizon. “What’s popular in Dageis, nowadays? Or should I even ask you?” He turned back to Sapphire. “Do you ever do anything besides put your nose into dusty books?”