The Land of Night

by Kirby Crow

  Jochi glanced at him worriedly. “I’d be happy to, ser.”

  He repeated the phrase Shikhoza had taught him.

  Jochi blinked, arched an eyebrow. “It, ah, is a very crude invitation. I do not think it is language you would wish to use.”

  Scarlet had known it, but to confirm the thing made matters worse. He was silent the rest of the long walk back to Liall’s apartments.

  Nenos seemed angry after Jochi spoke with him, though Scarlet could not tell if the anger was directed at him or the situation in general. More food was brought, more of the dumplings Scarlet liked, some che, hot and steaming and familiar from Morturii. It was the che that comforted, oddly, that and Jochi’s presence. Jochi sat with him politely and tried to be his dinner company, reciting stories of Rshan. Scarlet listened with half an ear, still stinging over the unfairness of his abrupt dismissal at dinner.

  “Have you always served here?” he asked Jochi offhand, and then, “I’m sorry if that’s rude, I just—”

  Jochi smiled reassurance. “Not rude at all. Surely two strangers may question one another in order to become less foreign. Have you been asked many questions since you arrived?”

  “Some. Why?”

  Jochi’s smile was knowing. “As you’ve already guessed, some subjects are more perilous than others. May I offer you some advice?”

  “Please.”

  Jochi leaned forward a little. “Feel free to answer any inquiries the courtiers and ladies may pose to you, but beware of offering too much. In Rshan, sometimes a wrong word or a phrase spoken in a certain tone will give rise to rumors.” He shrugged. “Most of the time, rumors are harmless. They entertain us and they give the court something to do, but matters are... difficult at present.” His eyes pinned Scarlet. “Questions about Prince Nazheradei are to be avoided, if possible. Among us, there are polite ways to avoid answering a direct question. I will teach you, if you wish.”

  “You’re very helpful,” Scarlet answered, carefully neutral.

  Jochi laughed. “Perhaps you have no need of my instruction, ser. I may have misjudged you. And now, it is only fair I tell you about myself; I am from a land east of Nauhinir. Tebet is its name.” He sketched a shape in the air with his fingers at eye level. “Here we are now, in the capitol,” he said, pointing to an imaginary spot that was somewhere level with his chin, and then his hand rose higher, near his eyes. “And here is where I was born. I lived there with my parents and brothers until I came to serve the queen. And you?”

  “I was born in Byzantur, in Lysia: a village on the other side of the border from the Bled, south of Morturii.”

  Jochi nodded and poured more che. “Tell me of Lysia, if you don’t mind.”

  Scarlet laughed bitterly. “No, I don’t mind. It was ... it is near the Iron River that stems off the Channel, and to get to the rest of Byzantur you must either take the ferry downriver or cross over the Nerit, or take the Salt Road further south. Lysia is isolated because we have the river on one side and the mountains on the other. The storytellers say that’s why Lysia is the oldest village in Byzantur, because our ancestors retreated beyond the mountains to escape from the Shining Ones, and the mountains held a magic iron ore that repelled them.” He belatedly remembered the story Liall had told, and he hesitated, hoping he hadn’t insulted Jochi.

  Jochi smiled, untroubled. “We have stories like that, too,” he said. “But you said was. Is your village—”

  A loud knock at the door interrupted Jochi’s words. Nenos, silent and attentive, entered the common room immediately from a side door and stood waiting with that patient air he had. Jochi motioned to Nenos to open the door.

  A tall man who looked to be a little older than Jochi stood there. The man had a lean, almost sly face with grooves of self-indulgence deeply etched around his mouth, slightly narrow eyes, and long, braided hair of that snowy white color that Liall had said was associated with royalty. This man was more richly dressed than Jochi and pushed past Nenos like he was invisible. Scarlet went stiff with unease at this insult to an elder, and Jochi stood up immediately, which confirmed to Scarlet that he should be wary. Jochi and the man spoke to each other. Their tones were courteous, but also oddly strained, and Scarlet sensed tension.

  Jochi turned to Scarlet and bowed. “Prince Eleferi has dismissed me,” he said, his tone peculiarly tight. “So I shall attend you in the morning, if that is agreeable, ser.”

  Scarlet rose. Another damned prince! “I don’t want you to be dismissed. How am I supposed to talk to him?”

  “It’s quite all right,” said Eleferi, stepping forward. His manner was oily and Scarlet instinctively disliked him. “I speak your language as fluently as Jochi.”

  Scarlet was not reassured. So had the Lady.

  “Welcome to our land, ser Keriss,” Eleferi smiled brilliantly.

  Scarlet eyed the newcomer with distrust. “Thank you.”

  Eleferi looked at Jochi and spoke again. Scarlet could not understand a word of it, but Eleferi’s tone was edged.

  Jochi bowed to Eleferi and answered, then smiled stiffly at Scarlet. “The Prince Eleferi is Prince Nazheradei’s step-brother, and half-brother also to the Crown Prince Cestimir.” He bowed again politely, though his eyes bored into Scarlet’s. “I bid you good evening, ser.”

  Scarlet watched Jochi leave. Nenos moved into the room, scowling, and took the che pot. He offered Eleferi a dark look and a bow.

  Eleferi ignored him and seated himself in the chair that had been Jochi’s. The prince fussily rearranged his silks –gold with a border of red– before speaking. “I apologize on behalf of all Rshan for what happened in the great hall,” he said airily. “These misunderstandings… and the eastern nobles are always short of temper.”

  A misunderstanding. Scarlet nodded stiffly and sat down. “I meant no offense,” he said, which was honest enough.

  “No, no. No offense,” Eleferi gushed, too heartily, his voice high and lilting, like a girl’s.

  Scarlet disliked this Eleferi and he was certain he did not trust him, but at least he was pleasant, even if his manners were overdone. Like a house with too many colors of paint and none of it matching. Nenos returned with another steaming pot and a fresh cup for Eleferi. He poured while Dvi, the young cook, brought a tray of white pastries with flowers dusted on them in colored sugar. Eleferi took two on a small plate.

  “So tell me, where did you meet my brother?”

  Scarlet’s nerves prickled. Questions about Prince Nazheradei are to be avoided, if possible. He chose to interpret Eleferi’s question narrowly. “In Volkovoi. On a trade ship.”

  “A trade ship! How exhilarating and romantic! Tell me more.”

  He began to embroider vaguely, wondering when Liall would return and hoping it was soon. To Scarlet’s great relief, Nenos never left the room.

  ***

  Prince Eleferi was teaching Scarlet to play a board game when Liall returned. The game was a complex system of carved pieces that moved in leaps and jumps on the board’s squares, and Scarlet had nearly gotten the trick of thinking five moves ahead when the door opened.

  Eleferi fairly leapt from his chair to greet Liall, rattling off a fluid stream of Sinha. Nenos bowed and went into the kitchen,

  “He is not a guest,” Liall interrupted in Bizye, his voice cold. “It is not proper for you to be here.”

  Scarlet wondered at Liall’s temper, and Eleferi’s face went tight in offense.

  “Forgive my impropriety,” Eleferi said, giving Liall an overly apologetic glance. “I thought to show ser Keriss a more hospitable face than he witnessed tonight, brother. I’ve been teaching him to play harts.”

  “So I see.” Liall’s expression was hard to decipher. “And where is Jochi?”

  Eleferi glanced at Scarlet briefly. “I dismissed him.”

  “Did you?” Liall’s tone was dangerous.

  Eleferi cleared his throat. “Well, I had best be going,” He bowed shortly to Scarlet. “Ser Keriss,” h
e said, and then bowed more deeply to Liall before leaving.

  Liall watched the door close, his lips flattened into a thin line. “Lascivious jackal,” he muttered and turned to Scarlet. “I tell you to stay out of trouble and here I return to find one of the essima at my own hearth?”

  Scarlet stifled his first answer, which would have been to tell Liall to go stuff himself, and coolly began moving the pieces back to their original squares. “He wouldn’t have left, even if I’d asked. Should I have left instead? And what in Deva’s hell is an essima?” He thought it sounded like their word for viper.

  “A serpent the color of snow,” Liall growled. “It is native to these lands, our only venomous animal.”

  “What is ser Keriss? They keep calling me that.”

  “I will tell you later. Now heed me: never allow Jochi to be dismissed, especially by the likes of that.” Liall stalked away to speak with Nenos in the kitchen.

  Scarlet gave up on rearranging the harts board and got up to stand in front of the fire. After several minutes, Liall joined him.

  “I crave your pardon, Scarlet,” Liall said at last. He put a warm hand on Scarlet’s shoulder. “I have no right to take out my ill temper on you.”

  “No, you don’t.” Scarlet kept his voice low, his mind busy turning over the puzzle of Jochi and Eleferi and the glittering lady in the hall. So many puzzles here, so much he did not grasp. Scarlet had always been quick to take command of a situation, always so confident with strangers. Now, for the first time in his life, he had to admit he was in waters deeper than he could swim.

  “You were right,” Scarlet said dispiritedly. “Perhaps I was wrong to follow you so far when you warned me against it. Perhaps I don’t belong here.”

  Liall took Scarlet’s shoulders and turned him around. “Ah, Scarlet, it’s far too late for doubt. Whatever you might have chosen before, now it is done and there is no road back. Life is complicated here, much more complicated than in Ankar, or even the palace of your Flower Prince. It takes many years to be able to navigate a royal court with safety, and you should not be either too eager to do so or very disappointed when it turns out badly. Do you understand?”

  “No.”

  Liall sighed. “And that is my fault, I know, but... I have no remedy.”

  Scarlet’s fingers dug into the fabric of Liall’s sleeves. “Yes, you do. Teach me.”

  “I cannot.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  Liall slid his hand under Scarlet’s chin and lifted it. “Listen to me, please. None of this was supposed to happen to you. We were to part on the Nerit, remember? This is an accident, your being here. A long set of circumstances that I tried to avoid, but somehow we kept getting thrown back together, as if we were meant to be together. Now you are here, and to me that is a very frightening thing.” Liall’s hand dropped. “Rshan is an ancient civilization, and as such it is often wicked and stagnant, and devours innocence wherever it finds it. I will not allow you to be corrupted so much that going back to Scarlet of Lysia becomes impossible for you.”

  Scarlet studied his face for a long moment. “And you plan on doing that by keeping me prisoner in these rooms?”

  Liall looked pained. “It is not what I want. You may move about the palace freely, but only with Jochi. He is not merely a translator and teacher: he is also a bodyguard. There are those who will seek to harm me here, and the easiest way to do that is through you. There are not even any laws in Rshan to protect your life, Scarlet.”

  “Because I’m lenilyn.”

  “Do you know what that word means? Not just outlander. Non-person. Many Rshani do not even believe you have a soul. They think you little more than a pretty animal.”

  Scarlet was shocked. He had known they disliked Hilurin, but the extent had escaped him.

  “Do you see now?” Liall went on. He drew Scarlet close and spoke with his lips pressed against Scarlet’s forehead. “If any evil should befall you, it would be entirely my fault. The only reason you are here is because of me. I brought you here, Scarlet, but I do not think I can survive burying you here.”

  Scarlet wanted to remind Liall that it was he who had had insisted on following, but he felt the slight tremble in Liall’s hands. “Is all this worry for me?” he asked, considerably moved.

  “I love you.”

  “I can defend myself,” Scarlet reminded him, but was warmed by his declaration.

  “You are untainted by the habit of intrigue,” Liall said. “Perhaps you can defend yourself against bravos on a city street, or a brigand chief, but there are things in the shadows here that you would never think to guard against.”

  Scarlet gripped the front of Liall’s hapcoat. “If I knew who I was supposed to avoid, I would. You didn’t tell me to be wary at dinner and then you were furious!”

  Liall's hand cupped the back of Scarlet’s neck and worked at the tight knots of muscle there. “Please,” he pleaded softly. “Please say you agree.”

  Scarlet sighed. “I promise not to wander and to fly from my cage only when Jochi is with me.”

  Scarlet could feel the tension melting out of Liall’s body. He pushed Liall away a little to stare up into his lover’s pale eyes intently. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on here? What are you afraid of?”

  “Come sit with me.” Liall took his hand and drew him to the couch. “I crave your pardon for snapping at you. The fault is mine.”

  Scarlet sighed again. “It’s not fair that you keep secrets from me.”

  “No, it is not. And if I had thought... I have left orders that Eleferi is not to be admitted in my absence. Neither is Vladei.”

  “Who’s Vladei?”

  “Just remember the name and keep Eleferi decently out of our apartments when I’m not here.”

  It sounded like an accusation. “He’s your brother.”

  “Never be alone with him!” Liall growled, and then gentled his tone. “In fact, he is my step-brother. And royal houses are not like your decent home with Scaja and Linhona: the poison of power and intrigue is everywhere in an imperial house. Here, even a brother may kill a brother.”

  Scarlet was appalled. “What?”

  Liall must have seen how his words affected Scarlet. “Have you never heard of these things?” he asked sadly. “I assure you, such horrors do exist.”

  Scarlet studied this man to whom he had tied his life. The lines of sorrow and bitterness had returned and settled in all around Liall’s eyes and mouth. Scarlet suddenly forgot his temper and trailed his fingers down the curve of Liall’s face.

  Liall closed his eyes, seeming almost in pain. “I am too old for you, too bitter and cynical.”

  “You are not.”

  “I am, but that does not mean I will let you go.” He pulled Scarlet into his arms and tightened his embrace as if to keep Scarlet prisoner, and Scarlet laughed and loosened the ties on the silken shirt Liall wore under his virca. He pressed a kiss to the warm skin beneath. Liall tasted very faintly of salt, and Scarlet licked the hollow of his throat, feeling Liall’s fingers tangle in his hair.

  Liall pulled back and kissed him, his tongue slipping between Scarlet’s lips. Oh Deva, he had been afraid of this before, but what he knew now...

  Scarlet shivered, remembering what it had felt like to float in the darkness with only Liall’s voice and touch. Scarlet pressed his hand between Liall’s legs, and the prince drew back quickly, looking at once startled and amused.

  “I have created a wanton.”

  “Then you must deal with your creation,” Scarlet smiled, his hand roaming.

  “I intend to.” Liall pulled Scarlet closer to his chest. “But I am tired and worried, t’aishka. Later, perhaps?”

  Scarlet nodded, disappointed but not very much. “Liall... at dinner? That woman told me how to address the Baron.”

  Liall went very still. “That woman?” Very softly: “Lady Shikhoza?”

  Scarlet nodded. “Yes. She told me what to say and how to say it.
What did I say, anyway?”

  Liall stroked Scarlet’s dark hair. “Let us merely say that it was very rude, but pronunciation can be difficult.”

  “I repeated her words exactly,” Scarlet said resentfully, for he felt suddenly that Liall might have been defending her. “She said I’d gotten it right.”

  “The Baron understands that it was an error.”

  Scarlet wondered about that. Perhaps it would be good to have Jochi with him to navigate the court’s undercurrents. “All right, but I don’t think that lady likes me very much, for some reason. They way she looked at me gave me the shivers, like she was walking over my grave.”