We Lie with Death

by Devin Madson

  Knowing Lashak would no more be able to explain it, I shrugged, the action as much an attempt to dislodge the thought from my mind as dismiss it from the conversation.

  “I did what you asked,” she said after a moment’s silence.

  I looked around. The only Levanti close enough to hear was Loklan e’Jaroven, my horse master, but he was humming as he checked his Leiya’s hooves. “Oh yes?”

  “Given the angle the arrow struck Gideon’s shoulder, it must have come from the northern side of the compound. The tower there isn’t used but is accessible. Mostly Qara Swords are camped in that area along with a smattering of Bedjuti, assuming of course it was actually a Levanti who attacked him.”

  “The man who came at him with a knife certainly was.”

  Lashak bobbed her head in agreement. “I worry.”

  “So do I,” I said. “I’m not sure we can do this without him.”

  As she agreed I thought of what Nuru had said about Sichi’s future, about her safety being tied to Gideon’s success and survival. In a way it was true for all of us.

  Despite the attack, Gideon continued to walk about the compound like any other Levanti. Almost any other Levanti. He wore the imperial surcoat at all times and was often accompanied by messengers or Kisian supporters, but for the most part he still looked like a herd master.

  I had offered to have my Swords walk behind him as they did with Lady Sichi, but he refused, even when I reminded him his attacker had been Levanti.

  “If I judge all by the actions of one, I will soon be at war with my own people,” he said. “Tell your Swords to watch from a distance, but I cannot lead if I am not safe without them.”

  Within a few days, Lady Sichi was doing the same. I saw her first while talking to Lashak over a morning cup of pottun. It had become our little ritual, a brief respite after the chaos of the morning meal. She had stashed away a whole pouch when exiled and had been rationing it ever since.

  We stood leaning against the stable wall in the morning mist, each holding a battered tin cup that to anyone else would look like water. “Is that Lady Sichi?”

  I’d had my eyes closed, enjoying the bite of the pottun on my tongue, stale as it was. “Lady Sichi?” She was crossing the yard, not toward us but toward the main stable, Nuru beside her and two of my Swords a step behind. They still looked odd to my eyes in their crimson surcoats, and even more odd to be walking behind a lady like she was a newborn foal. “Yes, that’s her.”

  “I haven’t really seen her yet; she’s always shut away in another room or that silk box.” Lashak narrowed her eyes. “Hmm, Gideon is almost to be envied.”

  “You think so?” I took another sip of pottun and swirled it around my mouth before swallowing. “She’s to your taste?”

  “It’s the decision in her walk. And that proud way she lifts her chin as though daring us to think little of her. Yes, decidedly she is quite to my taste. But then so is Gideon, so…”

  She gave a wicked grin and I dug my elbow into her side. “Don’t even think about it. We need less trouble around here, not more.”

  Lashak cackled and downed the last of her pottun as Lady Sichi approached a Levanti in the yard. He was rubbing down one of the horses taken out for exercise, a strange enough concept in itself, but not as strange as watching Lady Sichi hold out her hand for a horse brush and begin working.

  “What is she doing?” I said. “Does she think we’re not capable of looking after our horses properly?”

  “Looks more like she isn’t capable of looking after horses properly.”

  The Sword was, with Nuru’s help, now showing Lady Sichi how to use the brush more efficiently. She was watching, listening, smiling, and some others in the yard gathered to give advice. “Nothing can get a Levanti talking faster than a debate on horse care,” I said. “I think maybe she’s a smart woman.”

  “Or that Nuru is.”

  “Both, I think. It looks like Gideon has more of an ally there than I thought.”

  Lashak looked around, holding her cup just below her lips. “You think she’s deliberately seeking our approval?”

  I nodded in Lady Sichi’s direction. A Sword had her hand on top of Lady Sichi’s and was showing her how to make the curled strokes that promoted good circulation in cool weather. “If that’s not a deliberate show, I’m looking at the most charismatic accident I’ve ever seen.”

  “And here comes Gideon,” Lashak said, swirling the dregs in her cup. “It’ll be interesting to see what he thinks.”

  “He’ll probably approve, but—” I swallowed the last of my pottun. “Either way, that’s my cue to go lurk about and make sure no one kills him.” I handed Lashak the cup. “Thanks.”

  “See you tomorrow morning?”

  “For as long as you have pottun, yes.”

  She pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh, how you wound me. I am slain. It was just the pottun you loved, not me.”

  I winked. “Always.”

  With a salute and a demure “Captain,” I left her chuckling and strode across the yard unable to suppress my grin.

  I hadn’t even made it halfway to Gideon before a gong rang at the main gate. Trusting him to the competent eyes of my Swords, I walked over, already twitchy at the thought of new arrivals. Day by day the compound at Kogahaera had grown busier. When we arrived, it had been little more than a residence surrounded by outbuildings and tents pitched in mud, but each day brought more allies, messengers, and supplies. And more Kisian lords. They came to bow at the feet of their new emperor and jostle for position.

  “Who is it?” I called up to the pair of sentries on the gates, one Kisian, one Levanti. The Kisian pointed and spoke, but I waited for the Levanti to talk over him.

  “There are… non-fighting people who want to come in.”

  “Kisian?”

  “Some of them.”

  “What do you mean some of them? Who are the others?”

  The Levanti glanced at his Kisian companion, and despite the language barrier they seemed to share a moment of ill-ease. “Well, there are a few Chiltaens, Captain.”

  “Chiltaen soldiers?”

  “No, not soldiers. Peasant folk. And there’s a pair of, well… honestly, Captain, I don’t know where they’re from.”

  I scowled up at the man, his worried face encircled by the stiff hood of a storm cloak. “Well, what do they want?”

  “I think Ryo”—he indicated the Kisian soldier—“is trying to say they want to see Dom Villius.” He tapped his collarbone where Leo wore his pendant.

  Levanti had been known to travel long distances to seek the advice and guidance of a horse whisperer, or embark on pilgrimages to the great shrines. That believers in Leo’s god felt him important enough to travel so far was troubling. I thought of the puppets again with their shining eyes.

  “Pilgrims.” I sighed at the closed gates. Chiltaens I could understand, but Kisians too? How far did belief in this god stretch?

  “Do we let them in, Captain?”

  A voice cleared its throat at my side, and the Levanti sentry got caught halfway between a bow and a salute.

  “If they are devout enough to travel here unsure of their welcome, they will just camp outside if we refuse them entry,” Gideon said. “Better they are where we can see them, don’t you think?”

  Better we loosed arrows into each of their throats and left them to rot rather than give Dom Villius allies, I thought. But killing innocent pilgrims would not serve Gideon’s ends.

  I called to the Swords hovering nearby. “Open the gates.”

  They grumbled, but with staggered salutes a small group of Qara and Jaroven unbarred the gate, scraping a layer of mud flat as they hauled it open. Outside stood a small, mismatched, wary group of pilgrims. For a moment they looked at us as we looked at them, and they might have remained frozen there, unsure of their welcome, had not three young men on horseback led the way in. Another man leading a mule followed, along with a pair of women in ragged robe
s travelling on foot, their gazes darting. Behind them came a covered box like the one in which Lady Sichi had ridden north. Its four carriers were damp with rain, or sweat, or both, as was a fifth man in the same-coloured uniform leading a pair of mules piled high with packs. Two armed guards brought up the rear, they the only ones who looked at all comfortable.

  The creaking of the gates faded, leaving a hushed camp in its wake. Where there had been talk and bustle there were now hundreds of staring eyes and whispering tongues. The two women stepped close together, but the servants bearing the silk box pushed forward. One carrier wheezed at the nearest Kisian soldier and was pointed in the direction of a stone block outside the manor. I had thought it a relic of some long-broken statue, but Lady Sichi had been set down in exactly the same place. A mounting block for silk boxes? How could two such different cultures ever become a cohesive whole?

  “I will meet these people inside before they see Leo Villius,” Gideon said in a low voice and slipped away, no doubt so he could make a grander first impression.

  Which made dealing with the newcomers my job. Reluctantly, I followed the silk box to the stone mounting block, keeping my eye on the Kisian guards walking with it. Catching sight of Loklan in the crowd, I signalled for him to join me, and the quietest of my Swords shouldered his way through the gathering onlookers. “Captain?” he said.

  “Find Nuru. I need her to translate for me. Quick as you can.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  He ran off while the carriers lowered the box so slowly their arms shook and their legs twitched. A voice spoke from inside—Kisian, but rich of tone like a fat Tempachi merchant. Yet the hand that pierced the curtains was slim and soft, only its gesture a coarse demand for attention. The uniformed man with the mules hurried forward and bowed, speaking quickly, every word tinged with apology. There were plenty of Kisian soldiers watching, but those who heard his words only glanced at each other, unsure.

  The curtain parted in a flap of silk and a fine spray of water. A wooden sandal met the wet, sun-sparkling stone, followed by a second, each leg encased in the skirt of a shimmering blue robe. The servant’s hand shot out to help, but it was ignored as the box shifted with its owner’s weight and a man far younger than I had expected emerged. Despite his cushioned vehicle, not a hair stuck out from his severe, slicked-back topknot, a knot pulled so tight his skin owned not a single line or wrinkle. At least not until he squinted against the bright sunlight.

  Lifting a hand to protect his eyes he looked around, gaze alighting on my crimson silk.

  Taking two steps forward, he pointed to my surcoat and erupted into a stream of hasty Kisian. By the way he stood he considered himself superior, and part way through his speech he made the sign of Leo’s god, but there my understanding ended and all I could do was stand proud like a stone buffeted by the veldt winds and wait for Nuru.

  She came eventually, her long hair tangling as she sped across the yard. She slowed as she approached, breathing heavily, and saluted to me before bowing to the newcomer.

  “This man appears to be a pilgrim,” I said. “Here to see Leo Villius, I—”

  His high priest’s name sent the man off on another speech, and Nuru narrowed her eyes in an effort of concentration. Her reply when he finished made him throw up his hands and gesture rudely at me. Nuru spoke my name, then said, “His name is Lord Nishi, Captain. He is a pilgrim here to see Dom Leo Villius, but he is… confused by contradictory reports as to whether the emperor has killed his high priest or not.”

  “Perhaps it isn’t wise to say both are true,” I murmured. “Who are the others?”

  Nuru looked over my shoulder to the gaggle of new arrivals clustered in the muddy yard. She pointed them out to Lord Nishi, whose answer made him look so lofty and pompous I wanted to throw him back in his silk box and send him on his way.

  “Other pilgrims who fell in with him for protection. All are one in the eyes of the One True God, he says.”

  “Damn it,” I said, hating the weight of so many eyes upon me. “Well, Gid—His Majesty says he will see them before they see Leo Villius. Tell him so and see what he says.”

  Nuru did so, but the annoyance I expected didn’t come.

  “He says he came here with the object of bowing to any emperor who treated…‘Veld Reborn’ with the respect and reverence he deserves in the eyes of the One True God. And something about being gifted with donkeys, but that might have been a quote.”

  “Veld?” The name struck a memory. “Does he mean Dom Villius?”

  “I am not sure, Captain. Would you like me to ask?”

  “No, no, just get them out of here.” Loklan had returned with her and again I gestured him forward. “Go warn Gideon they’re all coming to see him. Tell him they want to know Dom Villius is safe before they support Kisia’s new emperor.”

  The young Jaroven repeated the words back to me in his low, nervous voice and, receiving a nod, hurried off again like a hare tearing across the plains. “Nuru, tell Lord Nishi the emperor will see him and the other pilgrims soon, and take them to that big hall with all the padded bed seats to wait.”

  “Divans?”

  “Whatever the fuck they’re called,” I snapped. “Take them there so they can stop causing a scene here.”

  Nuru saluted. “Captain.”

  I fell back as, with something like the courtly grace Lady Sichi managed, Nuru gestured and invited our new guests to step inside. All the pilgrims went, Lord Nishi with enough confidence that he left his two guards and his servant behind. The servant looked me over with disdain before addressing the closest Kisian soldier, who pointed in the direction of the stable yard. I followed him and the two soldiers to ensure they made no trouble.

  “Captain,” Nuru said, catching up halfway across the yard. “His Majesty wishes to greet the new guests and waits on you to join him before—”

  “Then let him wait a few more moments,” I said as Lord Nishi’s men disappeared into one of the stables. “Come with me. I need your mouth.”

  “But, Captain,” she protested as she tiptoed after me, afraid of soiling a pair of shiny wooden sandals far lighter than the colour of her feet. I lifted my brows at them, but Nuru just clicked her tongue in annoyance and tried to avoid the mud. By the time we reached the stable I could barely see her feet for the splatter.

  The two soldiers and Lord Nishi’s servant had halted not far inside the door as though waiting to be served, but the only Kisians present were two men wearing Grace Bahain’s sigil who eyed them as warily as they eyed us.

  “Address these men for me, Nuru,” I said, standing to my fullest height. “Ask them how long they expect to stay. Be nice.”

  “I’m always nice, it’s you—”

  I cleared my throat and forced a smile to my lips that didn’t like being there. Nuru broke off her complaint and spoke instead to Lord Nishi’s men in halting Kisian. The servant answered, his surprise at being accosted fast becoming a sneer.

  “He says they stay as long as their master stays.”

  “Why are you stammering when you talk to him?”

  Nuru’s gaze flicked to me and then down. “I’m trying some of Lady Sichi’s tricks, Captain,” she said, sounding like she was hiding a smile. “Men here are different. I think this one wants me to be small and silly so he will feel big and powerful and answer more easily.”

  I bit back the urge to tell her not to be small and silly for anyone. “Ask if they are all pilgrims or are only here serving their master.”

  “Captain, what use—?”

  “Just ask them. I need to know what their purpose is to understand what threat they are.”

  Nuru let out a breath and smiled at each of the men in turn as she asked the question. Clearly, she had been watching Lady Sichi very closely. To simper at anyone was disgusting, but I had to admire the skill of her act. She might still be a saddlegirl, but riding with the First Swords of Torin would have taught her how to fight and hunt and kill, how to sev
er the heads of the dead and release their souls to the world. Had Lord Nishi’s servant known what she was capable of he might not have leered at her so foully.

  At least he answered my question easily enough, unlike the guards who had to be asked a second time. One replied with a little shake of the head. The other a nod. Nods touched something at his throat as he answered and glanced toward the heavily-laden mules.

  “The man says of course he is a believer, he—”

  “What’s in the packs?”

  Nuru looked at me, but I didn’t take my eyes off Nods, squirming where he stood. Nuru relayed my question, a little more stiffly this time, and the servant drew himself up, launching into a diatribe. Without waiting for her to translate, I said, “Tell him I am the commander of the Imperial Guard and if these packs are not opened for inspection, they will all be thrown over the walls.”

  The man jabbed an angry finger at me. Dropping her weak act, Nuru snapped my threat. His tirade died in a snarl and he untied the first pack with a rough tug. The scent of incense punched out from a tightly packed collection of rolled silk robes, tied sandals, and linen. I patted the sides in search of odd shapes, more to annoy him than because I expected to find something hidden, before letting that one pass with a nod. While he retied the pack and opened the next, Nuru hissed in my ear. “His Majesty wanted you to attend on him straight away, Captain. What are we doing examining Lord Nishi’s clothes?”

  “Making a point,” I said, though it was only half the truth. I was thinking of the calm way Leo Villius moved through the world, and of the way his eyes glittered through his mask like the puppets all those years ago.

  The second pack contained much the same, and a third what looked more like the gathered belongings of the two soldiers. The other mule wasn’t carrying soft packs, rather a pair of wooden boxes slung either side of the beast’s body, both painted in a sticky black substance to protect against the rain. I pointed to them and with a reluctant sigh, the servant tugged one of the lids open. Inside, nestled in a protective bed of straw, sat dozens of small books. The Tempachi missionaries had brought books just like them into our camps and I stepped back in revulsion. No wonder Nods had looked at their cargo. The holy book of the One True God. My fingers itched to burn the lot of them. It seemed Lord Nishi had come not only to see Leo Villius, but to make converts.