The Assassins of Tamurin

by S. D. Tower

  “And Bethiya?”

  “I've only seen the part along the Short Canal and Kurjain. But here it’s better, I think.”

  “It is, for the moment. But compared to what Bethiya and Kuijain were before the Partition . .. even here we have declined sadly, Lale.”

  “But you have new things,” I reminded him, “ones the empire didn’t know about. The special clear glass the artisans make, so people with bad eyes can read. That new way of printing books. The timekeeping bell in the Round, that doesn’t need anybody to strike it.”

  ‘True. But, Lale, it’s not enough. The Exiles rule the richest of our old lands, and the Despotates become poorer and weaker by the year. Someday they’ll be no better than the Chechesh chiefdoms, all ignorance and squalor and a darkness of mind and spirit. The lamps will bum longer here in Kuijain, but for how long? Suppose another cavalry horde comes out of the steppes, the way the Exiles did? We only just held the barbarians the last time. What hope will we have if it happens again?”

  I thought about a world without the High Theater or the Ripe Grain Festival, a world without books or the music of sivaras, a world without cities like Kuijain, and I said, “If that happened, what would be the use of living?”

  “Exactly. So do you know what I dream of?”

  It clearly wasn’t me, at least not at the moment. “What?” “I want to bring the old world back to life, the way it used to be. I want to free the conquered lands. Bring all Durdane together, as it once was.”

  “How?” I asked in reluctant fascination. I felt it again, that fervor in his spirit that could stir the heart and make one believe that anything was possible. It even affected me, I who had been so carefully schooled against it. If I'd been an ordinary person I'd have been willing to lay my life at his feet.

  “We must destroy the Exiles,” he said. “Root, branch, twig, and leaf.”

  Such talk was cheap and it irritated me. Every Sun Lord since the Partition had promised to free our enslaved kindred in the east and drive the Exiles back through the Juren Gap. None had.

  “Who is ‘we’?” I asked. “Surely you don’t mean an alliance of Bethiya and the Despotates against the Exiles? It’s been tried time and again, and nothing’s come of it. You’d have more luck herding snakes than persuading the Despots to agree on anything.”

  “Assembling an alliance would be very difficult,” he admitted. “Still, it’s worth trying. But I may have to fight the Exiles alone, at least in the beginning.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, but you’re not the first Sun Lord with such ambitions. Why do you think you can do this?”

  “Because I know I can. I’ve known it for as long as I can remember.”

  “You mean it’s your destiny?” I tried to keep disbelief out of my voice and succeeded, I think.

  He laughed. “What’s destiny? It’s what men say was ordained after it’s happened. No, I simply believe I can do it.” “Suppose you succeed. When you’ve destroyed the Exiles, what then?”

  “I’ll move my capital to Seyhan. And after that, we’ll see what we shall see.”

  His face was shadowed and I could not read his expression. I said, “You’ll proclaim yourself Emperor, won’t you?” “Will I?”

  Of course he would. While he’d never openly admitted such imperial ambitions, it was widely suspected that he harbored them. Why else would he be arming Bethiya as he was?

  “And then you’ll call for the Despotates to submit, whether they want to or not. Am I right?”

  “Not necessarily. There are any number of reasons why I wouldn’t.”

  I didn’t believe him. Beneath his affability and charm the tyrant lurked, avid for power, just as Mother had always told us. Worse, he was that rare kind of leader for whose dreams men will agree to die. But those dreams were Mother’s nightmares, and my sisters’, too.

  Should I stop him now, before he’d fairly begun? It would be so easy: a blow to the throat and then into the lagoon with him, everything very quiet and quick. I could be out of the city before dawn, looking like anyone but Lale the actress. Terem would soon be missed and so would I, but his body might not be found for a day or two. Until then, they’d assume that whatever had happened to him had also happened to me, and it would be some time before I became a suspect. By then I’d be so long gone they’d never catch me.

  But I couldn’t do it without orders. Furthermore, I felt an unexpected revulsion at the idea of killing a man I knew so well, and who trusted me. Such scruples wouldn’t have troubled Dilara, and I berated myself for my weakness, but there it was.

  He was again sculling us toward the gray bulk of the palace. I said, “But I think you will try to make them submit, and then it’s war again. But haven’t we had enough fighting and misery over the past hundred years? Drive out the Exiles if you like, but why ruin the Despotates even more, in the name of a new empire?”

  He made an exasperated noise. “The Despots fight each other at the least excuse. When they do help each other, it’s only to crush rebellions. You know that as well as I do. If we can get our empire back, such things will end.”

  I remembered my childhood, the armored men from Kayan rampaging through Riversong. “I suppose so,” I agreed unwillingly, “but there hasn’t been a Despotate war for years.”

  “Only because everybody wore themselves out in the last round. Even wolves have to rest. But Panarik and Dossala are getting ready to fight again.”

  “Yes ” I admitted. Two magnate clans, one on each side of the Panarik-Dossala border, had come to blows, and each had enough influence to drag their respective Despots toward war. A war would be lunacy for Panarik, situated as it was opposite Ardavan’s domains, and extremely vulnerable if its army were tied down in fighting Dossala.

  “And it will go on,” Terem added, “until the Exiles destroy the Despotates one by one, or until the Despotates destroy themselves, or until somebody forces them to behave.” “And that somebody would be you.”

  “If not me, then who else?”

  He had me there. I knew of no one but Terem who might actually realize the old dream of restoration. But that didn’t mean he should try it. What if his attempt forced the Exile Kings to unite under Ardavan, and together they defeated and overran Bethiya? Then Ardavan could tum on the Despotates, and thaiiks to Terem’s ambitions, the horsemen would mle from the Juren Gap to the sea.

  I was about to tell him this when I thought: Use your head, you stupid girl He *s a man. He doesn V want an argument—he wants you to say he's right. He wants you to tell him how much you admire his daring and his resolution. Argue with him, and you may argue yourself right out of his life.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I can’t think of anybody to do it but you. It’s just that I never knew you dreamed with such boldness. No other Durdana mler these days has the courage to face the Exiles.”

  “You flatter me,” he said dryly, and I wondered if I’d gone too far. But apparently not, for he added, “I’m glad you approve. Not everyone will.”

  “The Exiles certainly won’t.”

  He laughed into the darkness. “Indeed they will not. So, Lale, will you join me in this wild pursuit of the dream?”

  Twenty-one

  At first I didn’t comprehend him, and several moments passed before I found my tongue. When I did, all I could say was, “I don’t know exactly what you mean.”

  “It’s simple enough,” he told me. “You and I have become very close. I don’t want to lose you when the Elder Company leaves.”

  Here it was, all unlooked-for. “You want me to stay in Kuijain with you?”

  “Yes. In the palace, if you will.”

  I tried to collect myself. Negotiations had begun. “This is very sudden.”

  “It’s been in my mind for longer than you might think. But now it’s possible, because I know I can trust you utterly.”

  “Ah. Because of the Hot Sky Plot.”

  “That’s right. You fought your way out of a trap, at
the risk of your life, to tell me I was in danger.”

  This was not exactly true. I’d fought my way out of the trap because I was in danger. I’d been worried mostly about me, not him, but if that was what he wanted to believe, let him.

  “So,” he said, “will you come and live with me?”

  I trailed my fingers in the cold lagoon, remembered how dirty the water was, and hastily withdrew them. Then I said, ‘This is not quite the declaration of passion that one sees in the drama.”

  I was, in fact, rather disappointed at his lack of ardor. I felt that a well-wrought, declaration-of-love scene should have some emotional color to it and that he was depriving us both of a memorable performance. But it was more than that. I wanted him to say he loved me.

  “Look,” he said, with a note of desperation in his voice, “I can write a classical love lyric as well as most of the poets in Kuijain—”

  “No, you can’t,” I said, irritated at this oblique approach. “Your poetry’s even worse than mine.”

  “Well, yes, you’re right. But even if it was any good, you’ve never invited that sort of thing. You give me the sense that if I acted the lover in the way the poets portray it, you’d think me foolish. So I’ve not been sure what to do. You’re always just a little out of my reach, just beyond the touch of my fingertips.”

  I was sure it was still his dead Surina he wanted, and I felt an unexpected and senseless stab of jealousy. “How did you woo Merihan, then?” I demanded. “With talk of empires, as you’ve done with me tonight?”

  He must have thought I actually wanted to know, for he said, “Not entirely. Merihan was less interested in such things than you.” I thought I heard him sigh. “Perhaps this is the wrong time to tell you my plans. But I did so because you’re a very intelligent and perceptive woman. And I know you can be trusted. I wish I could say as much for some of my officials.”

  “Do you want me, then,” I asked, “as a counselor or a lover?”

  After a silence he said, “Both.”

  I glanced toward the palace. Its walls loomed close in the starlit darkness, cliffs of gray pearl. Ahead lay the landing stage and the black blot of the postern gate.

  “Do you love me, Terem?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer for two or three strokes of the scull. Then he said, “I wasn’t sure until tonight. You didn’t notice, but I was watching you during the play. When Minaj discovered his lost son living with the robbers, your face lit up with joy, but then you suddenly looked so desolate I wanted to weep. And I realized I loved you.”

  I was nonplussed. Had my face really wom such expressions? I couldn’t remember being aware of them. I remembered being happy at the dramatic moment of the discovery but not especially joyful, or desolate afterward for that matter—it wasn’t that good a play. Still, if the illusions Terem had manufactured from my countenance had made him fall in love with me, so much the better. I suspected that what he really felt for me was pity and sympathy (neither of which I wanted or deserved), laced with physical desire. He also might have calculated that I could be a useful connection to the Despotana of Tamurin, despite being only her adopted daughter, and one among many at that.

  But none of this mattered as long as he believed he was in love with me. That belief was all I needed.

  I was thinking this when he asked, “And how do you feel about me, Lale?”

  I should have said. Of course I love you, truly, passionately, That was what he wanted to hear. But what came from my lips was, “I have very deep feelings for you, Terem.” “But do you love me?”

  “How could I not love the Sun Lord?”

  “In the name of Father Heaven, stop being so awkward!” He sounded exasperated. “Not the Sun Lord. Me, a man. Do you or don’t you love me?”

  ‘Terem, please listen,” I said eamestly. “You’re the Sun Lord, and I’m only an actress of uncertain birth, and beside you I’m powerless. If I leave my profession to follow you, and you someday tire of my presence, what will become of me? You know what happened to the lovers of the last two Sun Lords. I don’t want to end that way, drowning myself in the Honor Canal or begging on the Salt Lagoon docks. And remember, the Chancellor wants you to marry someone of proper rank and bloodline, which certainly excludes me. I do love you, Terem, but what will you do with me when you bring the new Surina to Jade Lagoon?”

  He stopped sculling. “You do love me?”

  A suitable line from The Game of Love and Chance suggested itself. “Why do you think I put up with you, you impossible man?”

  I thought he was going to scramble along from the stem for our first kiss, because the boat rocked alarmingly. “Steady,” I said, holding onto the thwart. “I won’t go away.” “I hope not,” he said, staying put. But there was great relief and a kind of bubbling happiness in his voice. “Not ever, I hope.”

  “Until you find a wife.”

  “Please stop worrying about that. I’ve no intention of marrying this year or next. There’s too much to do, and I’m not satisfied with any of the possibilities Halis has brought me.”

  Mother would be pleased to hear this. Better yet, if I kept him happy, he might be less inclined to replace me through a dynastic marriage, and my work could go on.

  “But you will marry, Terem.” I let sorrow seep into my voice. “You’ll have to, someday. What will become of me then?”

  “I’ve abeady thought about it. If you come and live in the Reed Pavilion, I’ll give you title to a villa in the city on one of the best canals. I’ll also settle a life income on you, so you’ll have your upkeep if you decide to go and live there. All this will be legally set out and sealed under my hand and paid from my estates as long as you live.”

  And then he added what I’d dared not hope for. “Along with that,” he said, “I’ll make it as formal as I can, short of marriage. I want you as my Inamorata.”

  I was glad the darkness hid my expression, for I was trying to suppress a delighted smile. Perin could hardly have asked for more. More to the point. Mother would be very, very happy. Even Nilang might sniff her approval.

  And me? Was my delight only in my success at getting Mother what she wanted? I thought it was, but I had so perfected the art of lies that I could conceal the most obvious truth from anyone, including myself. And this truth was that I stood on the brink of falling in love with my enemy, and didn’t know it.

  “All right,” I said softly. “I’ll come to the Reed Pavilion, Terem, and be your Inamorata.”

  The palace walls suddenly loomed above us; the skaffie was almost at the postern’s water steps. I seized a mooring ring, drew us alongside the quay, and Terem shipped his scull and climbed ashore. I stood up and he helped me onto the stone beside him.

  The guards were nearby, in the shadows of the narrow gate. He kissed me anyway. I’d had an idea of what to expect but I was still astonished at how strongly I responded. As the kiss deepened, I felt the same disturbing sensations that had troubled me when I was applying his disguise, but this time they were much more heated and showed powerful signs of becoming warmer still. He was holding me tightly, and I felt profoundly safe and protected. An illusion, for I’d die the slicing death if he ever found out what I was.

  I managed to draw back and whisper, ‘Terem, I have to go home. Perin will be wondering where I am. And your mourning for the Surina isn’t over. We must observe custom, or people will speak badly of you.”

  He released me. We were both breathless, as if we’d run a long distance. “You’re right,” he said in a hot voice that warmed me even more. “But as soon as the palace is out of mourning, you’ll join me?”

  “Yes,” I murmured, “I said I will. But . . . Terem, may I send word to Mother? She’ll approve, I know, but it’s best I teU her soon.”

  He stepped back, still holding me by the shoulders. “You can tell her in person, if you like.”

  “I can? What are you taking about?”

  “She’ll be here soon after the end of the month, with
four other Despots. They’re coming to discuss an alliance. I’ve kept it quiet so far, but I’ll be announcing the state visit in a couple of days.”

  I could hardly believe it. I’d see Mother again, after almost two years. But my delight was tempered by a sudden worry that it might be a trap for her, if not for all the visiting Despots. The Chancellor had a hand in this, after all.

  I gave several exclamations of delight and thanked him for telhng me, although I was quite chagrined that I hadn’t found this out before he told me. “But how,” I went on, “did you persuade them all to come? Despots don’t like straying far from their capitals, and they’re putting themselves in your hands.”

  “I promised them help if they retumed home and found trouble, and I swore on my honor that they would have safe conduct everywhere in Bethiya. Also, they know I’m their strongest support against Ardavan. Altogether it was enough to get them here, although it may not be enough to persuade them to an alliance.”

  I relaxed. Mother was safe, for I knew that Terem would always stand by his personal oath. “You can persuade them if anyone can,” I told him. The eastem sky was no longer perfectly black, and I heard a gull cry plaintively from the lagoon. “But look, dawn’s coming. Really, I have to go. But I’m so glad you told me . . . May I tell Master Luasin that I won’t be going back to Istana? And Perin? She’s such a good friend to me.”

  “You can tell the whole Elder Company, if you like, but caution them to keep it quiet until the mouming period ends. That’s just a few days from now.”

  “All right,” I agreed. He helped me back into the skaffie and I put my face up to his. He kissed me again, and then I sculled away from the quay. I was weary but exhilarated. The first game of the match was over and I’d won. Or I thought I had.

  Propriety demanded that we tell Mother of my new status before she arrived, so Terem and I wrote a letter asking her blessing and sent it off by govemment courier. I dispatched my own account of the event by way of Nilang, including all that Terem had told me of his intentions to restore the empire.