by Kelly Coon
We’d been traveling for two days and two nights now, and the threat of them catching wind of what we were planning urged my feet forward. We’d lost two days planning in Manzazu before we left, so we only had about a week and a half to complete our mission.
Not nearly long enough.
“I’m going to check on Iltani,” I told Arwia.
“Okay. Tell her to stay out of the sweetwine jugs. She can drink water if she’s thirsty, like the rest of us.”
“I will. Assuming she will listen to me.”
“You can only try.”
With a sigh, I jogged lightly up to where she was making a show of leading the donkeys, but was actually clutching their bridles for dear life so she didn’t fall in her drunkenness and get trampled. She flashed a brilliant, lopsided smile at me.
“Please refrain from looking excited about all this.”
She winked as she tripped over her own two feet. “ ‘Excited’ isn’t the word I’d use. Or maybe it is. I can’t remember.”
“Why are you dipping into the sweetwine so heavily? We need that to barter or bribe! You remind me of my abum.”
“No reason.” She hiccupped, eyes glassy. “Maybe I like the brew. Have you ever thought of that? And I’ll beg you to keep your opinions to yourself.”
She poked me in the right breast and I swatted her.
“You are so crass sometimes.”
She cackled and I turned away, irritated. We were in a precarious position, and she was being flippant about it. It boggled my mind.
Dagan glanced back at us, and I caught his eye and walked quickly to catch up with him. The Boatman could take Iltani.
“Hello up here. How is protecting our life and limbs?”
“No nefarious thieves in sight.” He smiled at me, but it wasn’t the easy smile he typically wore.
Our discussion about going back to the city had been tense, starting with his outright refusal to let me go, which had been met with my own objections about not being married so I could do as I wished.
He’d argued that just he and Nasu should go into Alu, and both Arwia and I had immediately thrown that argument aside. He was big and easily recognizable in the Libbu, so he wouldn’t be able to get as close to the Palace like one of us girls could.
“Are you still upset?” I interlaced my fingers with his.
He brought my hand to his lips. “No. I’m worried. You are my everything, Arammu. You know how I feel about you.”
“Yes, and I feel the same about you.” I swallowed. I’d yet to give him an answer to his question of marriage, and he hadn’t asked again. I supposed we were both waiting on this hairline of a precipice to see what would happen in Alu before plunging back into those waters.
“If something were to happen to you, I don’t know what I would do.” He looked ahead at other travelers on the dusty, winding road along the river. Clenched his jaw. “I don’t think I could bear it.”
“We have to try to do this, though, don’t we? What other option is there? Could you live with yourself if something happened to your ummum or your brothers in war and we hadn’t tried? This whole thing was your idea to begin with.”
“I didn’t mean for us to do the killing, Arammu.” He stared at his sandals. “And I’d like to get to the other side of this with you intact so you’ll be alive to answer my question of marriage.”
“Dagan…” But I let my voice trail off. What else was there to say right now?
He shifted the pack on his shoulders. “I know, I know. This isn’t the time and I will not pressure you. There are bigger things to worry about.”
“Yes, my love, there are.”
“But I will pressure you to think about you and Nanaea waiting in Wussuru while Iltani and I go into the city ourselves. Consider that, please. For me.” He looked at me with those amber eyes framed by impossibly thick lashes.
My heart swelled with love.
“I will, Dagan. For you, I will.”
But even as I said the words, we both knew I was lying.
* * *
Night fell swiftly on the road.
“It’s right up here.” Dagan’s tired voice lifted momentarily at the prospect of resting. Exhaustion sat heavily on our shoulders like children we were too tired of carrying. My muscles ached for a soft pallet and a star-filled sky in our little house in Manzazu, though that was a senseless, painful wish, considering where we were.
The abandoned city of Wussuru loomed ahead, its walls crumbling. Dagan was concerned that bands of thieves might hide there, but Nasu’s trip up the road early this morning had assured us it was still vacant.
A ghost of its former self.
An hour later, we crossed under tiled archways bearing the figures of gods and goddesses nobody believed in anymore. Inside the walls, past disintegrating homes, remnants of firepits, and shells of taverns, there appeared to be an old Libbu surrounded by a wall pulled nearly apart by climbing weeds.
And there was a crackling fire burning brightly inside it. Shadowy figures broke apart and approached when we neared.
“Dagan! Someone’s here!”
Dagan shoved me behind him and had his emerald dagger in his hand before I could blink. Nasu threw himself atop the cart in front of Arwia, brandishing his sickleswords.
“Get down!” he hissed to her, and she ducked beneath the linens.
“Who’s there?” Dagan commanded.
“A-zu!”
A woman’s voice echoed from the Libbu, and before we could even make another move or better prepare ourselves for impending bloodshed, we were surrounded.
By Koru. Eight of them.
Commander Ummi, scraping her teeth with a stick, and Humusi, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, stepped from the shadows. Higal followed, burly hands on thick hips near her battle-axes.
“What are you doing here?” I breathed.
“You are not a quiet plotter. I heard you and Arwia on the steps,” Ummi said around the stick in her mouth.
“But we never said anything about going to Wussuru then. Did we?” If we were this bad at sneaking around our allies, what chance did we stand in Alu?
She spat something out on the ground. “You said it in your home.”
“You were spying on us?” Nasu snapped.
Higal laughed, a full-bellied sound that echoed through the courtyard. “We do as we are told.”
Arwia poked her head up from the cart. “Are you going to take us back to Manzazu and tell Sarratum Tabni what we’re doing?”
Dagan stepped forward with his dagger poised to throw.
“Put it away, farmer,” Ummi ordered, both of her battle-axes suddenly in her hands. “We’re not here to turn you in. We’re here to help you.”
Nasu flicked his gaze from Dagan to Ummi but did not drop his sickleswords. “And defy your sarratum?”
Dagan stepped forward. “Yes, please explain.”
“I could kill you in three seconds, boy.”
“And I could kill you in two,” Dagan growled, his dagger twitching in his hand.
“Stop it. Both of you.” Arwia climbed down from the cart, her long braid trailing after her like a rope. “Sheathe your weapons.” She looked around at the rest of the Koru who’d encircled us. “All of you.” Her hands trembled as she held them out, but she did not back down.
Slowly, his eyes watchful, Dagan slid his knife back into his belt, but stood at the ready, muscles tense. Ummi twirled her battle-axes and sheathed them in one smooth move, smiling broadly around the stick in her mouth.
“Please tell us why you’re here.” Arwia held her hand out to Ummi.
“I told Sarratum Tabni that we’d accompany you to your destination to guarantee your safety. And here I am.” She bowed. “She wanted you watched on the path to Enlidu. She d
oesn’t know you’re here in Wussuru or what you plan to do, because I kept that from her.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“Because I believe in what you said on those stairs, A-zu. If you move into Alu swiftly, with stealth, you could rid your city of that maggot and be done with it.”
“Why do you care what happens in Alu?” Nasu looked at her pointedly. “It is our city, not yours.”
“Is it because you owe me the favor?” Otherwise, it didn’t make sense. “The queen granted me the scorpion necklace, but I know you are required to fulfill it.”
Ummi shook her head. “The favor was granted by Linaza herself. The queen only acted as the medium to guide it to you. Our goddess has granted you her power, and I can only fulfill that favor when you ask me to, A-zu.”
“What if my request goes against the wishes of the sarratum?”
“Linaza would not give you a desire that defies the sarratum.”
Really.
“Well, then why do you care?”
“Two reasons.” She shifted her stick to the other side of her mouth. “Strength is not always loud. Sometimes we are strongest when we are quiet. We’d show ourselves to be a better army if we could remove him from power without harming the citizens of your city. Sarratum Tabni believes otherwise, but”—she cocked her head—“she has not been in a war.”
Higal spoke. “The second reason is Assata.”
“The tavern keeper?” I asked.
Higal grunted. “You know her?”
“We all do. She’s a friend of ours,” Dagan said, and we all murmured our agreement. “She sent us with provisions when we first left the city. Provided Kammani’s abum with food when he couldn’t pay. She’s a good person.”
Ummi nodded. “She is. I remember her from when I was a child. When she first left her birth city of Kemet as a young woman, she traveled to Manzazu and trained as a warrior.”
“Yes! Many of us in Alu knew she trained with you. She used to give sicklesword lessons to girls behind her tavern while their parents were inside,” I said.
Higal nodded. “Sounds right. She trained me as a girl.”
Ummi continued. “But once she fell in love with the merchant, Irra, she left Manzazu to follow him to Alu. I know the destruction we can bring,” Ummi said. “We do not wish to bring harm to her, or to anyone else. Besides, I think she would help you if she knew of your plans. You must go to her. Tell her what you want to do.”
“Why can’t you just kill him yourself?” Dagan asked. “If you believe in this cause? You’re more skilled than we are.”
Ummi glanced between Higal and Humusi, who stood, arms loose at their sides. “We cannot defy Sarratum Tabni outright. She wants him brought back to our city alive. Linaza has told me to offer you our guidance on this night. To give you some tools to protect yourself in Alu. And then we will go back to our sarratum to bring war if you do not succeed. But I hope this gives you some time.”
My heart fluttered. It was gracious. And completely dangerous for them to be here if Sarratum Tabni knew their intent.
“Thank you, Ummi.” I nodded to the others. “Thank you for this. But how did we not see you on the road?”
She crossed her arms over her breastplate. “We move with craftiness, unlike you.” A ghost of a smile showed up on her face, displaying the gaps in her teeth. “We followed you and not at a safe distance. No one but Nasu felt our presence, and that was only after the first day.” She shifted the stick to the other side of her mouth. “We left at separate times, disguised as merchants. Traders. Mothers heavy with child.” She barked a laugh at that. “You never saw us, not even once, for our disguises were crafted with great care.”
On the other side of me, Nanaea perked up when she said that. But the hair stood up on my head. If they’d followed in costume and we were unaware, we had a lot to learn from them.
Ummi jerked her head at the Libbu. “Let us take some rest and do some training. You can sneak into the city by dark in two days’ time. I’ll post sentinels around the walls to keep all of you safe. Two of the Koru are walking the perimeter now. No harm will come to you when you are in my care.”
“Our thanks, Ummi. Let’s unpack.” Arwia nodded and we dispersed. Dagan and Nasu grabbed our tents and some rolls of bedding from the back of the cart.
“This is a gift from Selu,” Nanaea breathed into my ear as she passed me by, hauling her basket of sewing and a small cask of what appeared to be face paints. “I’m going to talk to the Koru about what they used to disguise themselves. See if I can sew some of the pieces for us to get into the city.”
“Good idea, Nanaea.”
I joined the others unpacking a few necessities, shaking out quilts, and talking about Alu as we settled in. A nervous, excited energy seemed to zigzag through the warriors as they carried supplies. At last, we gathered around a crackling fire, several birds roasting on sticks, fish nestled on grates over the coals. At my side, Dagan filleted some hot fish into bowls for us both while Nanaea squatted on the other side of the fire, concentrating on a bit of cloth. One of the Koru warriors worked with her, ripping the seam out of a garment. Dagan was relaxed as he smiled at me kindly and handed me the dish, but though my murmured thanks seemed calm, I couldn’t help but worry about what might await us on the other side of Alu’s wall.
In the corners of the Libbu, weapons of every sort—daggers, battle-axes, sickleswords, spears, and shields—were stacked in neat rows. Nasu was sparring with a woman in the far end of the Libbu, and another Koru warrior was teaching Iltani how to attack with a knife, though chances were good she already knew. That girl had a way of surprising me, even though we’d been friends since we were young. Two more warriors were doing drills by torchlight, their weapons clanging, an occasional “Ha!” or “Oh!” slicing the chilled air in two.
As I took a sip of the sweetwine that Dagan had poured for me, Ummi eased down onto the blanket at my elbow, a fire-roasted fish filet in her hand.
“Are you nervous to go into Alu?” She picked at the meat.
“I’m not as nervous knowing you’re going to show me how to better protect myself.”
I knew some basics, of course. Dagan had shown me how to throw the dagger, though I usually failed to hit the target at all. My training as a healer meant I knew where to cut a man if he needed to die, though ever having to use that knowledge against someone seemed terrible.
“I can train you right now if you like.” She waved the fish toward the weapons.
“At first light, if you don’t mind.” I held up my cup with a small smile. “I’ve already drunk too much of this to be alert.”
And I needed to sleep. Sometimes my worries kept me up late at night. I’d stare out the window of my shared bedroom with Nanaea, gnawing my thumbnail, asking myself questions for which there were never any answers. Would I be the kind of healer my abum wanted me to be with a practice of my own, one I could staff with my own apprentices? Was Kasha eating enough? Was he learning enough? Nanaea would often startle awake and join me at the window, laying her head on my shoulder, and we’d sit, talking, until I felt sleepy enough to return to the pallet.
Were those days gone for good or would they be replaced by Dagan’s bed if I accepted his hand in marriage? And why wouldn’t I jump at the chance to do so? It wasn’t as though I didn’t love him. He was my favorite person, and I longed to enjoy the pleasures that marriage could bring. Heat rose to my face at the thought, and his strong shoulder brushing against mine made me hunger, low in my belly, for just that.
But the unfairness of the marriage laws between men and women needled me. Even though he’d never treat me unfairly, he could and would be supported by the laws if he did. It wasn’t right, but if I married underneath them, it would be as if I supported them. But what other option was there? I loved him and wanted to be with him fo
rever.
Can we work it out as he said?
“You look serious, A-zu,” Ummi said, taking another bite of her fish.
I looked at her strong jawline as she chewed. She and the rest of the Koru had given up the entire idea of marriage for the honor of serving in the elite circle of warriors.
“I’m curious. Why must the Koru be unmarried while the regular Manzazu army can wed?” I shifted on the blanket, leaning back on my hand.
Ummi remained sitting tall. Vigilant, even as she took up her cup and drank. Every movement was precise. Ready. Waiting for signs of danger. “I’ve been a Koru since I was your age. As soon as I could be. So…a number of years. In all that time, I’ve only known the sarratum to make one mistake. And that was in not listening to your advice to go into Alu quietly.” She flitted her eyes up from her fish and settled them on me.
“So it wasn’t a mistake to ask you to give up a husband?”
She grinned, revealing the spaces between her teeth. “A-zu, I was never interested in a man.”
Ah. There were women who were not, but by law, if their abums gave them in marriage to a man, that’s where they went no matter how they felt about it. “But some women who want to join the Koru warriors might be interested in a man and marriage.”
Her eyes wavered from me to the fire and back. “And those women can choose not to be members of the elite. Only the willing go into this sacred service, and she cannot be married if she does it. She must be focused on the sarratum’s commands. That’s it. Not worried about tending her small children or listening to her husband.”
“But what if her husband tended to her children?”
Ummi snorted, nearly choking on a bite. “Her husband? Ha!”
Dagan leaned forward to slice some meat from one of the birds, and I studied his profile. He would be the kind of man to care for a child. He would take a little one by the hand into the fields and teach the child his ways. The image of him with Kasha in the Libbu sprang to mind. There had to be other men like him, too.