Sharani series Box Set

by Kevin L. Nielsen

  “Let’s go meet them, then.”

  Chapter 22: Politics

  “The Path itself is pure, the magics which grow from it are real and tangible.”

  —From the Discourses on Knowledge, Volume 19, Year 1259

  Lhaurel waited at the edge of the barge as it came up alongside the massive craft. Priestesses from the barge used their powers to hold it in place. Sailors tossed down lines from the ship above and then other sailors shimmied down the ropes to land on the barge’s deck. Lhaurel felt a mild flush of irritation, though she did her best to push it down. She leaned against her staff, feeling oddly apprehensive, though she didn’t know why. The other Sisters wouldn’t do anything out in the open, would they?

  It was the part of her that had spent her entire life in the harshness of the Sharani Desert speaking, she knew. It was the voice of a girl betrayed by the first man for whom she’d ever had feelings. It was the voice of the woman who’d done the honorable thing to save her people this time instead of using her powers to both save and destroy them. It was the voice of fear.

  Elyana laughed at that voice, mocking her insecurity. You’re as naive as they come, girl.

  Lhaurel held back a shudder with every ounce of her will.

  Once the barge was secured, one of the Sisters aboard the ship walked up to the edge and the barge priestesses moved back behind their respective Sisters, the extras they’d picked up in Geithoorn forming a small group between the two of them. Lhaurel studied the other Sister, pushing down Elyana’s voice. She was tall, with the blood red hair and nails that marked her for what she was, but instead of the thin, pole-like frame Lhaurel expected, this Sister was somewhat portly and far curvier than any of the other Sisters had been.

  “Sisters,” the woman shouted, throwing her arms out wide to the sides. “Welcome back to the heart of the Empire! We have longed for your presence in Estrelar.”

  Talha made a small noise next to Lhaurel, something that sounded like a snort. Lhaurel almost turned to look at the woman, but Talha stepped up and began speaking before she could.

  “And I have longed for the presence of my Sisters as well.” Talha’s shout seemed almost have a ceremonial tone to them, like the words of the sealing ceremony. “Though my burden has been somewhat less than yours. Our dear Sister who had fallen is returned to us. I bring Honor back with me now.”

  Talha turned at these words, focusing on Lhaurel with her full attention. Lhaurel became immediately aware of all the eyes which now fixed on her. Along the shore on each side of the canal, people thronged the walls, even though they were far enough away that they probably couldn’t see or hear much. Hundreds of them were there. Thousands. The three Sisters on the ship all stared at her, their expressions unreadable in their differences. Every eye was upon her.

  “Greetings, Sisters.” Lhaurel said, unsure what else to say. Her grip tightened on her staff and she licked her lips, forcing herself not to suck her lip in and start chewing on it.

  “Talha,” the Sister at the rail on the ship above said, grinning widely. “You have returned our Sister to us. Our gratitude is great. Come aboard, now, my Sisters, and may the grace of the Progressions watch over you and guide your step toward eternity.”

  A long wooden ramp appeared over the edge of the ship above them. Little steps were cut into the wood. It lowered down and thumped onto the barge’s deck with a hard thwack. The barge rocked a little at the impact, the priestesses no longer holding it in place. Talha inclined her head toward the other Sisters.

  “We welcome your gracious invitation. We would be honored to join you as we return to our home in Estrelar.”

  Talha looked at Lhaurel then and gave the smallest of nods in the direction of the ramp. Lhaurel suppressed Elyana’s voice in the back of her mind. It was yelling at her to stay where she was, to not board that ship. Lhaurel easily pushed it aside and, licking her lips once more, strode toward the ramp, feeling eyes watching her every move. Her staff thumped against the wood as she walked. Talha’s made an echoing noise just behind her.

  As Lhaurel took her first step onto the deck of the large narrow ship, the portly Sister rushed over to her and wrapped her in a tight embrace, flashing a smile that showed pointed teeth. The woman smelled of honest sweat, but that smell was hidden among an overpowering musk of perfumes that made Lhaurel’s eyes water. Panic coursed through her, hot and insistent, and she had to force herself not to squirm and not to plant a fist in the other woman’s stomach.

  “I am so glad to be the one to greet you, child,” the Sister whispered in Lhaurel’s ear, just loud enough to be heard. “Our other Sisters are not so pleased at your presence here.”

  A dozen different questions flitted through Lhaurel’s mind, but she didn’t get a chance to ask even one of them. The portly Sister released her and turned to Talha, hugging her in as tight an embrace as she had Lhaurel. Lhaurel stepped carefully to one side, not sure what else to do but watch Talha and this new, odd Sister. She tried to catch Talha’s eye for some sort of indication on what to do, but the woman didn’t look in her direction.

  “Mhenna,” Talha said, returning the hug. “It is good to see you. It’s been far too long.”

  “Far, far too long. I thought you and Sellia were crazy to assume that the Northern Dominion would have what you sought, but here is proof standing before us.” The sister gestured at Lhaurel and shook her head, short red hair dancing around her face.

  “Indeed.”

  “Oh, how I’ve missed your trite answers, Talha,” Mhenna said, going in to hug her again.

  Talha held up a hand to stop her and Mhenna pulled back, chuckling.

  “You never change,” Mhenna laughed.

  “Knowledge changes everything. Especially me.”

  Mhenna laughed, a sound, Lhaurel was surprised to realize, that was completely genuine. Each Sister Lhaurel had encountered so far was completely different from one another. From the time Lhaurel had first learned about the Seven Sisters and the fear apparent in both her dreams and the writings she’d read, Lhaurel had thought of the Sisters as a single entity, the Seven Sisters. True, Talha and Sellia had been different, but there was a similarity in demeanor and power between them that this third Sister didn’t share. This woman seemed more like a mother than a terrible scourge.

  “If you three will get out of the blood-soaked way,” a harsh voice said, “we can get underway.”

  Lhaurel glanced toward the speaker, more than a little surprised at the tone. Only another Sister would dare address Sisters that way. Her assumption was proven correct as her eyes took in the speaker. This Sister was tall, taller even than Sellia. She had a hard, square face and her figure was blocky and not at all petite or curvy. She wore the traditional white half-robes of the Sisters, but her sleeves had been removed to expose thick, muscular arms twice as large as Lhaurel’s thigh. It was as if someone had tried to carve the image of a woman out of stone, but had forgotten to make it resemble anything distinctly feminine.

  “Are you going to move?” the Sister asked, voice a low grumble that would have made old men jealous. “Or do I have to move you?”

  Lhaurel jumped, not realizing that she’d allowed her study of the woman to distract her from what was going on. The other Sister, this behemoth of a woman, raised a scarlet eyebrow, an act that reminded Lhaurel of an insect moving across a boulder. She started to shift out of the way, moving toward where Talha and Mhenna had placed themselves to one side, but then stopped as a thought occurred to her.

  “Are we not waiting for the priestesses?”

  “They’ll follow on the barge,” Talha said. “Come along now, Lhaurel.”

  Lhaurel remained where she was, blocking the giant Sister. “I would rather Josi came with us.”

  “Who?” Mhenna asked, the smile that seemed to constantly be on her face slipping slightly into a pout of confusion.

  “She will be fine until the barge reaches Estrelar, Lhaurel.” An edge crept into Talha’s voice, a h
ard note of threat that told Lhaurel she should drop the subject.

  Why? The voice was Elyana’s, but also Lhaurel’s. Both mental voices sounded at once, fueling Lhaurel’s next words.

  “I insist.”

  “You insist?” the mountainous Sister in front of Lhaurel asked, incredulity plain. “Who do you think you are, child? You have not even been introduced to the Empire or granted a formal position among the Progressions.”

  “I am one of the Seven Sisters,” Lhaurel said, surprised to find herself perfectly calm. “I am the avatar of Honor and a guide along the Path.”

  The large Sister blinked. To the side, either Mhenna or Talha whistled. Probably Mhenna.

  “You’ve got steel in you, child,” the large Sister said with a frown. “That is good. But I warn you not to cross me again. It will not prove a pleasant experience.”

  “I think,” Lhaurel said, voice calm and without even the slightest trace of anything outside of resolve, “you wouldn’t find it pleasant either. Now, Talha, will you have someone fetch Josi so we can be off?”

  The large Sister seemed taken aback for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter, slapping Lhaurel on the shoulder with enough force that Lhaurel knew she would bruise. Lhaurel leaned heavily on her staff to keep herself upright. Still, she stumbled a little. Maybe proving this giant of a woman hadn’t been her best idea.

  “I like your spirit, girl,” the Sister said. “Fetch this Josi and let us be off.”

  Talha spoke with one of the sailors, who scurried down the ramp looking more than a little nervous, and then scampered back up again a moment later with Josi in tow. The priestess, the girl really, Lhaurel realized, looked as frightened as a child caught in the middle of a sailfin pack. Any trepidation or misgivings that had started to form regarding her actions disappeared as the woman climbed up the ramp and immediately moved to stand at Lhaurel’s side. Sands above, she was trembling.

  “Let’s be off, then!” The blocky Sister reached between Lhaurel and Josi, almost shoving them aside, and seized the ramp by herself and hauled it up onto the narrow ship’s deck on her own. She dropped it onto the deck, where it thumped against the wood. Lhaurel felt the deck tremble at the impact.

  “Ready oarsmen!” The woman’s bellow made Lhaurel jump.

  Talha walked up to Lhaurel as a grating noise filled the air. Oars appeared on either side of the ship, looking like a rashelta turned on its side.

  “Come with me, Lhaurel,” Talha said. “Bring the girl.”

  Talha kept walking, a confused-looking Mhenna walking along behind her. Lhaurel didn’t follow immediately. Her hands were shaking and she found herself feeling suddenly weak, as if her joints had lost their strength. Only her staff kept her on her feet.

  What’s going on? Lhaurel reached for her powers to lend her strength on instinct, but found that same wall that was always there now blocking her access. Instead, she simply grit her teeth and looked over at Josi. Lhaurel had been stubborn and headstrong before her powers. She could and would be so again.

  “Everything will be alright,” Lhaurel said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Josi nodded, her motions slow and lethargic. Lhaurel recognized that fear and despair. She’d felt it as she’d watched the genesauri descend on the Oasis. She’d felt it when she’d seen the Orinai armies descending into the Sharani Desert.

  “I promise, everything will be alright,” Lhaurel said. She put more conviction into it than she felt. She had no idea what she would be able to do to protect the girl, but by everything Lhaurel held dear, she would do whatever she could. It was just a question of how.

  The massive Sister moved to the front of the narrow ship as the oars rose on either side of it. A massive round drum sat there, bolted into the deck of the ship. Lhaurel watched her curiously, even as she and her priestess followed Talha toward the group of older, well-dressed men near the far side of the craft. The blocky Sister picked up a pair of wooden mallets with rounded, padded ends and raised them high into the air. Along the shore, the assembled watchers began cheering, though the ship was far enough away from shore that Lhaurel barely recognized it for what it was.

  “Forward!” the Sister shouted and brought the mallets down on the drum.

  Thump. Thump. Pause. Thump thump thump. Pause.

  Repeat.

  The oars moved in time to the beating drum.

  “Your return is most welcome, Honored Sister of Knowledge,” one of the men said, as their group approached. Lhaurel pulled her attention away from the drum, turning back to the men in front of her. They were, Lhaurel decided, the oddest-looking men she’d ever seen.

  The man who had spoken was an older fellow, tall as Talha, but with a slightly larger build. His thin face was hidden beneath an oddly shaped beard. The lips and chin were bare, but the white and black streaked hairs on both cheeks hung down several inches beneath his chin. His hair was cropped short, though it too bore the signs of age. He wore a dark brown coat buttoned over a stark, white shirt. The buttons on the coat shone with a burnished bronze luster. His pants were sharp, creased down the center, and had buttons down the outside of each leg, though they appeared more ornamental than functional. He had a sword belted at his waist and his boots were black and reflected the light. His whole demeanor screamed of power and affluence.

  “It is good to be returning home. How fares the iron market?” Talha replied, inclining her head slightly toward the man. Lhaurel wondered at this. Who was this man, to be shown such respect from one of the Sisters?

  “House Creager is faring far better than some others.” Behind the strange-bearded man, several of his companions grumbled and gave dark looks.

  “It’s those wind-blasted storms,” another of the men said, voice low, gruff, and loud. He was shorter than the first man, though the clothes he wore—which were equally as fine as the first man’s—looked a bit disheveled and the buttons of his coat strained against the cloth in an effort to contain the man’s broad belly. “They’ve been cropping up all over the Empire. They’ve ruined crops, overturned barges, and decimated entire slave populations in the Eastern Dominion.”

  “Don’t let Mydan radicalism detract from what’s important in that message,” another of the men said. This one was garbed entirely in green and was clean shaven, though his hair was longer than either of the other two men. “He means well, but he’s a hysterical fool at the best of times.”

  “Mydan radicalism?” the portly man said, rounding on his companion. His short, brown beard seemed to bristle. “Curse your House to the seventh level of hell, you swine. I’ll have you know the Mydan family is the most conservative in all of Estrelar. Our House has stood for more years than your squabbling cooperative of interbred idiots, Leyhend.”

  Lhaurel couldn’t help but smile at the indignation in the Mydan man’s voice. The green clothed man, who Lhaurel realized now was clearly one of several representatives of the Great Houses, simply raised an eyebrow and looked back at Talha and Lhaurel, expression one of absolute uncaring disdain. The first speaker, the older man, chuckled softly to himself.

  “The storms are a concern, Honored Sister,” green clothes said. “The Storm Wards say that the weather patterns have been disrupted somehow and are afraid to act without consulting you on the matter. I had hoped you would consider working with my own Storm Wards in this venture.”

  Lhaurel noticed the slight flicker of movement in Talha’s cheek that showed the woman’s jawline firming slightly. This was clearly a political maneuver, one that was both open and overt in nature.

  “Perhaps, Lord Leyhend. Perhaps.”

  Lhaurel could tell from her tone that she was not pleased, though Lhaurel doubted this Lord Leyhend would be able to tell.

  “Is this the new Sister of Honor?” The first man—Lord Creager—asked. Lhaurel half wondered if he recognized Talha’s hidden displeasure and was purposefully steering the conversation away from politics.

  All eyes flickered tow
ard her.

  “I am,” Lhaurel said before Talha could respond.

  “I heard about your last Incarnation’s passing only eight days past. I had not known she was even unwell.” Though the man spoke conversationally, Lhaurel sensed more curiosity in the question than his body language showed. For some reason, the tall man reminded Lhaurel of Marvi, the old Matron of the Sidena. Her treachery and conniving had led, in part, to what had happened to the Rahuli people in the Oasis.

  “Things happen quickly at times,” Lhaurel said, keeping her words careful and her tone calm. Elyana’s voice whispered in the back of her mind, suggesting what to say. “Like the aforementioned storms. Thankfully, Lord Creager, the Path provides us a means of continuing on even after our frailties render our bodies but empty vessels.”

  Lord Creager nodded and gave a pert smile, the motion made larger by his strange beard. “You’re absolutely right. Now, I must beg your leave. I have a few missives to write and reports to review. If you will excuse me?”

  He bowed, bending at the waist though not appearing to move much, and then strode around them toward the back of the ship where a number of other, smaller men stood. Attendants or slaves, perhaps? Part of Lhaurel grew enraged at the thought of them being slaves, though it was a small voice now. It was part of the world she’d become entangled in. It wasn’t something she could change.

  “You will also need to excuse us,” Talha said to the other two men, who were watching Lord Creager retreat with sour expressions on their faces. “We have some business to attend to as well. I assume our rooms have been prepared below?”

  “I assume they have been, yes,” the portly Lord Mydan said, scratching at his chin beneath his beard. “Storms take the slave who hasn’t.”

  “That one will take him first.” Lord Leyhend nodded toward where the blocky Sister stood beating at the drum, keeping the oars moving in time. It was only then that Lhaurel realized how far they’d already travelled. The oars propelled them forward at twice again the speed of the barges. Already they’d passed beyond the city of bridges and stone.