“I think so, too,” Amrita said firmly. “It is never wise to refuse a true gift of the gods. Moirin… do your gods often speak to you?”
“No.” I searched for words, and found there weren’t any big enough. All I could do was clear my throat. “No, my lady. Not like this.”
She smiled a little. “Still, you are quite special to them, I think. I knew it the moment I saw you protecting that girl in the street. You were shaking with fever and you could barely sit up straight in the saddle, but you were not going to let those men harm her. And as sick as you were, you still looked like you’d stepped out of an ancient tale from when gods and goddesses roamed the earth.”
It made me smile, too. “You are very kind, my lady.”
Amrita laid one hand on Bao’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “And you are very frightened, dear one. But you are stronger than you know. You will be strong enough to face Jagrati, I am sure of it.”
I prayed she was right.
All of us slept uneasily that night, the camp on high alert, ringed about with anxious sentries. Bao positioned himself before the flap of the tent and passed the night in a restless doze. Twice, there were shouts in the night that brought him to his feet, his staff at the ready, while I reached desperately for the twilight, flinging it around myself and Amrita. But they were false alarms sounded by our uneasy guards.
There was no attack. Kurugiri, it seemed, had gone on the defensive.
The next day, we passed through the meadow where we had held our parley. As a precaution, Hasan Dar sent a company of scouts ahead to sweep through the spruce copse where our ambush had hidden, but it was empty. We filed past the Sleeping Calf Rock and began to ascend higher into the mountains, the air growing thinner and colder, pockets of snow in the windswept crags.
I breathed the Breath of Embers Glowing to warm myself, and the Breath of Earth’s Pulse to center myself, letting my awareness expand as we navigated the narrow paths. I didn’t sense anyone ahead of us, but I wasn’t certain.
That night, we made camp on an arid plateau where the ground was so hard it took all the men’s strength to pound the tent-pegs in place. Amrita was shivering in the cold, her teeth chattering. Although she didn’t utter a word of complaint, she was unused to such hardship. Beneath thick woolen blankets, I did my best to warm her while Bao slept stretched before the tent-flap.
On the following day, we reached the base of Kurugiri.
The mountain seemed taller and more foreboding than I remembered, jutting into the icy blue sky. The southern face of it was sheer; indeed, only the eastern face with its complicated labyrinth was scalable. We worked our way toward it, feeling the shadow of Kurugiri looming over us. From this perspective, the fortress itself wasn’t even visible, but every one of us knew it was there.
Dusk was falling by the time we passed the hanging cauldron of petition on its endless chain and reached the entrance to the maze, shadows slanting over the fissured slope. There must have been almost a dozen potential paths emerging from the maze, but Bao went unerringly toward the fifth one we encountered.
“Here.” He pointed to a faint mark etched into the stone, as high as a man could reach, then pushed up his right sleeve. The same intricate symbol of curlicues and strokes was tattooed above the crook of his elbow, beginning the zig-zag path. “See?”
Hasan Dar nodded. “We’ll have to camp here as best we can,” he said. “Set out at dawn. You’re sure it can be climbed in a day?”
Bao leaned on his staff. “I’m sure it can be done, yes. Whether or not we can do it is another matter. Depends on what we find in there.”
“I am sure of it,” Amrita said in a decisive tone, shivering. “Anything to get out of this cold!”
It made the guards smile, which I daresay was her intention; and it was the last cause anyone had to smile, for it was a truly miserable night. Due to the rocky terrain, we were unable to erect the tents and had to sleep in the open air, and it was perishing cold. But even worse was the menacing maze stretching above us, filled with possible assassins who might slip through under cover of night. Not wanting to take any chances, Hasan Dar posted sentries along every egress.
Although they were brave and loyal fellows, it was a frightening duty; and the mountain seemed like a living thing in the darkness, determined to heighten our fears. Every time a pebble shifted, someone raised an alarm. All of us slept fitfully, Bao and I with my lady Amrita between us, sharing our warmth with her, feeling horribly exposed and vulnerable all throughout the night.
Still, there was no attack.
Kurugiri was waiting.
In the dim light of predawn, I felt tired and bleary-eyed, and not at all heroic. Gazing at the deep, narrow channels etched into the mountainside, I reminded myself that I had done such a thing before in the Stone Forest.
But that had been a gentle, lovely place compared to this stark maze, and we had been able to draw our enemies away. We had had myriad paths to choose from, and a dragon to guide us.
Here, there was only one path that would not lead us astray, and we would be trapped within its confines with assassins waiting for us.
While Hasan Dar ordered his men into line, I sat cross-legged and breathed the cycle of the Five Styles. Bao sat beside me and did the same, his knee brushing against mine. I expanded my senses and drew strength from earth’s pulse, from trees growing, from the memory of ocean’s rolling waves, from embers glowing, and the wind’s sigh.
I thought about Master Lo Feng, who had taught us both. What Master Lo had taught me had made me stronger and wiser, better able to focus the gift of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, using it as it was meant to be used.
I felt his loss keenly, and wished he were here to counsel us, to tell me that I had done the right thing in refusing Naamah’s offer.
Too soon, all was in readiness. Bao and I would take the lead, a handful of guards behind us, followed by the fellows carrying the battering ram. Hasan Dar had placed the Rani in the middle of the line lest we find ourselves ambushed from behind, and he would guard her himself, commanding from the center. Every man under his command had a copy of the map we had drawn based on Bao’s tattooed arms.
“Are you ready?” Hasan Dar asked, his handsome face taut with apprehension.
Bao’s gaze slid sideways toward me, his staff held loosely in his hands. “Moirin?”
I took a deep breath and stood. “Aye, I’m ready.” I strode toward my mount Lady, and swung myself astride.
Bao followed suit, thrusting his bamboo staff through a thong strapped across his back. I checked my yew-wood bow and quiver, testing the draw before slinging it over my shoulder. I glanced behind us, seeing the long line of guards, the Rani Amrita looking small and cold and determined in their midst. Faint streaks of pink were emerging on the eastern horizon, making the scudding clouds blush.
I looked at Bao, my stubborn, irrepressible peasant-boy with the vast heart. “I love you, you know.”
“Uh-huh.” He flashed his battle-grin at me. “I love you, too, Moirin,” he said, adding a familiar warning. “So try not to get yourself killed, huh?”
I smiled back at him. “You, too. Once was enough.”
At my word, Hasan Dar ordered his men to avert their gazes so that I might summon the twilight to hide us from all eyes. I took another deep breath and called it, wrapping it around Bao and me.
The world turned soft and silver-dim. Behind us, there were cries of wonder at finding us vanished. In the distant heights, I felt the flicker of Kamadeva’s diamond calling to me.
I ignored it, focusing on the path before us. “Let’s go.”
SEVENTY
The path was so narrow we were forced to ride single file, and its walls were steep and high. I’d never felt so claustrophobic in a natural place before, painfully aware of the fact that we were trapped here, that if I lost my grip on the twilight, Bao and I would be the first targets. With a hundred men behind us, there was no chance of escape.
> Bao took the lead, consulting the tattoo on his right arm, matching symbols at every fork of the path.
Every path not taken made my skin tingle, for there could be assassins lurking within them, waiting to fall on our company from the side. It was unlikely, since they could do the most damage obstructing the path before us, but it was possible. And I had to keep my awareness focused on the path ahead. I couldn’t afford to spread myself too thin.
According to Bao, there had been seventeen men in Jagrati’s thrall, and all but two were highly trained killers.
Five had been killed during their escape from the meadow, and Bao had left. The poisoner and the fellow lurking in the Rani’s hidden room were dead.
That left nine men, plus the Falconer himself. When I counted the numbers, it seemed a ridiculous few to inspire such fear… but in the maze, at the forefront of our small army, it didn’t seem foolish at all.
Left, then right, then left, and left again. All the turns made me feel disoriented and dizzy. I shook my head, concentrating. The call of Kamadeva’s diamond grew stronger as we climbed, the rich hues of its dark fire beckoning to Naamah’s gift within me, seeking to beckon me out of the twilight.
Behind us was the clatter of hoofbeats, the jingle and creak of gear and weapons, the sounds of men breathing hard and swearing as they attempted to wrestle a battering ram through the narrow, twisting path.
I wished they would all be quiet.
We had been climbing for over an hour when I sensed the first living presence other than our own on the mountain, at a point where the path ahead of us widened around a sharp bend to the right.
“Bao, hold,” I said softly, and he drew rein, waiting. Glancing behind me, I willed Hasan Dar’s second in command to hear me. “Pradeep, hold and wait.”
He nodded fearfully, and whether it was due to the threat of assassins, or hearing my disembodied voice, I couldn’t say. But he did as we had agreed, signalling silently to the army to wait.
There was no time to hesitate. The killer ahead of us would have heard our company approaching. If Bao and I delayed, he might move to investigate. Firming my grip on the twilight, I joined Bao and we rode around the bend.
The assassin was an archer, and he had chosen his spot well. He had gone to one knee at the far end of a straight, wide stretch of path, and he had an arrow nocked and drawn. There was a tray of sand before him from which the shafts of another score of arrows bristled, points thrust into the sand, ready at hand.
Remembering how quickly the man in the Rani’s chamber had thrown a flurry of knives, I shivered. I didn’t doubt that this fellow was just as quick, just as deadly.
“One of the good ones or bad ones?” I asked Bao.
“Bad,” he murmured. “Do you want me to take him, Moirin?”
I shook my head. “It’s on me, either way.” I nocked an arrow and drew, my hands shaking a little.
I had killed men twice before, but only in the heat of battle. This was murder, plain and simple. Even if the fellow would gladly have done the same to me given the opportunity, it was still murder. He had no idea I was there. His face was calm and silvery in the twilight, utterly focused. It reminded me a bit of the Tatar archer Vachir’s quiet, steady confidence, which made it all the harder.
My diadh-anam was quiet within me, neither warning nor encouraging. The Maghuin Dhonn Herself would give me no guidance in this matter. The choice was mine to make, the risk of losing Her favor mine to take.
This, I thought, was truly an unclean deed that would leave a stain on my soul. But thinking of my lady Amrita raising poor, dead Sameera’s maimed hand to her lips and kissing it, thinking of Ravindra’s grave face as he bade his mother farewell, I knew it was a darkness I was willing to accept.
“Make sure it’s a clean kill,” Bao said quietly, reading the decision on my face. “He’ll start shooting blind if you don’t take him in one.”
I nodded. “Get as close to the wall as you can. He’s likely to loose his bowstring when he’s struck.”
Kneeing our mounts, we plastered ourselves as close to the walls as we could.
Breathing deeply and willing my hands to steadiness, I shot the fellow.
It was quick, so quick! There was the thrumming sound of my bowstring as I loosed it, the thump of the arrow piercing the assassin’s chest indistinguishable from the second twang as his nerveless fingers loosed his own string, the hornet-buzz of an arrow speeding between Bao and me to shatter against the wall of the path.
I lost my grip on the twilight for a heartbeat. The killer’s puzzled eyes met mine; then his gaze went to the feathered haft protruding from his chest. He toppled slowly sideways. And then my diadh-anam pulsed within me and I gasped, reclaiming the twilight.
The archer was dead.
And the Maghuin Dhonn Herself had not forsaken me. It seemed I had guessed rightly, and the stakes were indeed high enough to call for desperate measures.
Bao dismounted and went to confirm that the killer was well and truly dead, then lugged his body as far out of the way as possible. I sat atop my mare Lady, breathing hard and shaking, fighting against a surge of nausea, feeling at once sick at heart and horribly grateful that my diadh-anam yet shone within me.
“It was well done, Moirin,” Bao said when he returned, swinging himself back into the saddle. “A better death than that one deserved.”
I swallowed. “Let’s just keep going.”
We alerted Pradeep and resumed our torturous climb, zigging and zagging our way up the mountain to Kurugiri. Bao consulted his tattoo and scanned the walls for symbols; behind us, Pradeep and the others consulted their maps and did the same, following our invisible progress through the endless labyrinth.
Left, right, right; left. Again and again and again.
I felt the darkness of my deed settle into me, and accepted it. I wondered if the great magician Berlik had felt the same way when he had broken his oath and slain the Cruithne princess and her unborn child to save our people.
The gods use their chosen hard.
It was true.
It was mid-day when I sensed a second living presence in the maze ahead of us, and called softly to Bao, ordering a second halt.
This time, the path was too narrow to admit us both on horseback. Bao and I dismounted, stealing around the corner together on foot. He caught his breath in a hiss at the sight of the man awaiting us.
My throat tightened. “One of the good ones?” I asked unnecessarily. This fellow was young, younger than Bao, with delicate features. His face was filled with transcendent determination, but even I could see that he held the long pike he wielded in a tentative, inexpert grip.
“Uh-huh.” Bao glanced at me. “Sudhakar. I used to try to protect him.”
My diadh-anam flickered. “We can’t just kill him.”
“No.” He sighed. “Let him see us.”
I released the twilight.
The boy yelped with alarm at the sudden sight of us, his eyes stretched wide. I nocked an arrow and trained it on him. He leveled his long pike, swinging the tip back and forth between us in an agony of indecision.
“Sudhakar, it’s me,” Bao said in a soothing tone, his staff tucked under one arm. “You don’t want to fight, do you?”
“Our lady wills it!” His voice trembled.
“Our lady wills a great many things, none of them good,” Bao said calmly. “Think, Sudhakar. She’s not here now. Kamadeva’s diamond is not here.” He tapped his chest. “Look into your heart. You don’t want to do this. Lay down your weapon and surrender, and we will take care of you, good care of you. The Rani of Bhaktipur is a good lady, a very good lady. I promise, you will be safe among us.”
The boy hesitated, and I thought for a moment that Bao had reached him, but I was wrong. Jagrati and Kamadeva’s diamond might not be here, but they were not far enough away, either.
“No!” young Sudhakar cried in a high-pitched voice, shaking his head frantically. “No, no, no! I am loyal
to her!”
Pike leveled, he charged at Bao.
Despite the narrow confines, Bao spun out of his way with effortless grace, his staff lashing out to connect with the back of the boy’s head as he passed. Sudhakar fell forward and measured his length on the rocky path, lying motionless.
I winced. “Dead?”
“Unconscious.” Bao rolled the boy over, testing his pulse. “Broken nose, chipped front teeth. He’ll live if we let him.”
“Let him,” I said.
Bao nodded and called for Pradeep, who procured a long length of sturdy rope from somewhere in our supply train. Together, they trussed the boy Sudhakar securely and dragged him into one of the blind alleys. Gods willing, we would retrieve him on our return journey.
“Two down,” I said. “Seven to go, plus the Falconer. Do you suppose there are more in the maze ahead of us?”
“Yes,” Bao said soberly. “At least one. They wouldn’t have left a half-trained lad like Sudhakar as the last line of defense in here.”
He was right.
For two more hours, we climbed uneventfully, the call of Kamadeva’s diamond growing ever stronger. I struggled to ignore it, struggled to maintain my hold on the twilight, trying not to think about the offer Naamah had made to me, trying not to let myself get distracted by the fear that I had chosen unwisely. Nearing yet another hairpin turn, I barely sensed the presence ahead of us in time to order Pradeep to halt.
It was narrow, very narrow. Once again, Bao and I dismounted and went to investigate on foot, me with an arrow nocked.
As strained and mentally weary as I was, I couldn’t make sense of the vision before me. For the space of a few seconds, I thought I was seeing one of Bhodistan’s strange gods with two heads and four arms.
Then it resolved into the image of two men crowded into the narrow space together. One gestured silently to the other, who cupped his hands together. The first man put his foot in the other’s cupped hands, and the other tossed him upward with a powerful heave. The fellow soared into the air, catching the ledge of the steep wall and pulling himself to his feet.
Kushiel 03 - [Moirin 02] - Naamah's Curse Page 46