“What?! That is ridiculous!” Sireth threw his arms up again. “Sha’Hadin would never accept such a joining!”
“They may have no choice now,” said Fallon. “And it’s the perfect opportunity. The Council is abolished, and if I’m right, and I usually am, there are no Elders left. At least, none that command the Gifts the way the Council did. Right?”
She looked at Sireth. He nodded, but numbly.
“Sha’Hadin is vulnerable, for the first time in generations. Yep, it’s the perfect opportunity.”
The Captain growled under his breath. “Sidala? What are your thoughts?”
She pulled at the feathers in her hair. Gone were the baiting airs, the sensual self-confidence that characterized her occupation. In fact, to the Captain, she almost seemed worried.
“Sherah al Shiva, answer me. Is it possible that, during our absence—”
“Or because of it,” chimed the Scholar.
“Yes, or because of it, that the First Mage has seen fit to make a move toward Unification?”
Slowly, very slowly, she inclined her chin. “It is possible.”
“I knew it!” Sireth snapped, a kite in a strong wind. “We must leave at once!”
“No.”
“What?!”
“I said no. At first light, we will dispatch the falcon. She should make Pol’Lhasa in two days time. We shall see what the Empress herself decides.”
“That is completely unacceptable, Captain.”
“That is not your decision, sidi.”
“Tiberius trusted you, respected you. He believed that you had saved Sha’Hadin. And now you have handed them, and him, over to the darkness. How could you betray us like this? Have you no honor?”
Kirin’s palm slammed the table top with such force that everyone jumped and he loomed over it like the great lion statues in the palace courts. But when he spoke, his voice was low, quiet and completely controlled.
“We wait... on the Empress.”
Sireth straightened to his full height, stone-faced and seething and when he turned, Fallon noted that even without the swirling dark robes, he was still impressive. He strode toward the tower door. And stopped.
Suddenly, he swung back to the room, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hello, my friends!” said Solomon. “I’ve got great news!”
***
“I don’t know that I’d call it a Gift exactly,” said Kerris as he watched from a distance. “More like a bloody nuisance, wouldn’t you say? I mean, first it’s you, then it’s not you, then it’s you again. A person could get lost in all those souls, traveling about, bumping into each other. And what if you did get lost? Could you just pop into someone else’s body, take him out for a spin, then give him back when it was convenient? No thank you, I’ll just take the grey pelt myself and get on with it.”
No one answered, because of course, he was talking to himself. He had slipped out of the room as soon as Kirin and the others had appeared and had nabbed the last bit of cold curried lamb and dumplings. Two of the dumplings he had pocketed for Quiz, being as they were the pony’s favorite snack. He made a point to check on the horses, to see that they were bedded down for the night in a high tower stable. It was ironic, he thought, to see horses sleeping deep in straw on a brick and stone wall so high above the ground. It was typical of feline culture to go to such great lengths to demonstrate their mastery over the natural world. It was in its own way, peculiar. But cats are, after all, a peculiar people.
He waved at the leopards, Wing and Per, Luke and Oded as they too bedded down for the night. With the extra sentries already available from the Wall, the Captain had given them the night off and Kerris knew they sorely needed it. His brother could be thoughtless when it came to subordinates, believing that everyone could function as he did, on strength of will alone. Kirin had remarkable will.
“Not me,” he said to the stars. “In fact, I don’t have remarkable anything. Just as well, I suppose.”
He leaned out over the cornice, feeling the wind upon his face. It was cold and grumbling, and more than a bit angry. There was a storm coming, he knew it. It would hit before morning. They would have a hard day of it tomorrow. He pulled two sticks from his pocket.
Dharma and Red.
Odd.
With a deep sigh, he blew the moon a kiss and started back to the tower.
***
“Power? What do you mean ‘Power?’ Power over people?”
“I mean, just the power. I think I can get the power on. What, don’t tell me you people don’t have electricity?”
Kirin frowned. “We have cities.”
“Okay, fire? You have fire, right?”
“Of course we have fire. It is one thing of many that separates us from animals.”
“Dogs have fire,” Fallon whispered and the Captain cut her off with a glance.
“Yeah, okay, whatever,” said Solomon. “Well, electricity is kind of like fire under harness.”
“Ah, a lantern. Yes, we have these.”
Solomon laughed again. He was in a good mood tonight. This ‘finding of power’ was obviously a good thing. But it was also very likely an Ancient thing and Kirin had no wish to be discussing Ancestors tonight, or any night.
“Solomon, where were you last night?”
“Oh, that. Well, I’ve had to go deep into the bunker to get the auxiliary generators up and it took me all night to break into the vaults. This place is crawling with those rat things. I had to be very careful but I don’t think they are very smart.”
“They are not,” said the Major. “But they do have a keen sense of smell, and excellent hearing.”
“I thought so. That’s why I was so quiet. When I felt - I don’t even know what to call it - this connection-thing with you people, I tried to talk to you a few times but I could only talk in whispers. I heard nothing back, so I gave up and got on with my work. ‘
Kirin nodded. So Solomon had come but had been very quiet about it. Whether or not the Major had been drugged, she might not have awakened at all. This did nothing to prove one thing or the other, nor did it help to alleviate his concerns.
Solomon went on.
“So, anyway, I think I can get the power back on, possibly by tomorrow. Then I can get the computers up and running, maybe get some supper, and find out what it’s like up there.” He grinned again. “And hey, we’ve got some pretty nifty ATV’s and a Humlander in storage. Even a couple of choppers, if I’m not mistaken. I’ll be able to meet up with you folks in style.”
For some reason, Kirin found himself looking at the Scholar, hoping that she of all people would understand anything of what this strange soul was talking about. But she was as lost as he, delighted in the conversation, but lost nonetheless.
“Solomon, we have to talk to you about maps—”
“Shh!” The Seer’s eyes darted around the room. “I hear them.”
“Who? The rats?”
“Yeah! Gotta go!” Sireth bolted to his feet, scrambling backwards toward the door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow night, okay? Tomorrow night!”
“Solomon! Wait!”
Kirin was on his feet too, as the Seer spun on his heel and dove for the doorway that led out to the Wall, the black night and the precarious drop to the ground below. A fall would surely kill him.
“Major, stop him!”
She lunged.
Perhaps it was the last of the drug, working its way through her body. Perhaps it was the change of clothing, making her more bulky, the Seer less so. Perhaps it was simply the unexpected nature of the motion, the unforeseen, unforeseeable action of this foreign soul. What ever it was, something caused Major Ursa Laenskaya to do something the Captain could never, in all his years’ association with her, remember her having done before.
Major Ursa Laenskaya missed.
To her credit, she did manage to snag a leg but he swung free, striking her jaw with his heel and sending her back into the Captain. By the time they wer
e steady, he was out the door. Both she and the Captain were behind him in a heartbeat.
Blacker than black against the bright sky, they could hear more than see him and they were like two arrows bearing down on the fleeing figure. There was another figure on the Wall before him, there was no mistaking who—
“Kerris! Stop him!”
The Seer whirled, hesitated but a moment, then sprang onto the cornice of the Wall, baggy clothing billowing in the night air. Kirin skidded to a halt, terrified.
“Kerris,” he called. “Carefully now.”
The grey lion was within touching distance.
“Solomon,” he asked, looking up with a mouth full of dumpling. “Is that you?”
“Sh! The rats! God damn these rats!”
Kerris threw a glance at his brother and the Major as they moved slowly, tautly, like coiled springs, towards them. He looked back up at the Seer.
“They gone?”
“I think, maybe, shh...” He flung his head wildly around, dark hair whipping in the wind, eyes seeing nothing, not the Wall, nor moonlight, not the steep deathly drop to the cliffs below.
“You know, that’s not really a good place for you, or for our Seer. How about you come down here where we can help?”
He reached up, grabbed the man’s spotted, un-gloved wrist.
ocean water earth and lightning forking, breaking the road, breaking it into a thousand pieces
A gasp, a sag, a sharp release of breath. Sireth blinked, swayed, took a step backwards to steady himself—
“Kerris!” shouted the Captain.
The grey lion braced himself as the Seer toppled backward. The stone of the cornice caught him mid-thigh, scraping his trousers and grey pelt down to the knees. He yelped but held fast when the Seer struck the stone as he fell. In fact, the momentum almost pulled the grey lion over the edge with him, but Kerris did hold with a strength he should not have had.
Within a heartbeat, however, Kirin then the Major were there with him, pulling the Seer over the cornice and onto the parapet. Kerris flopped down beside him.
“I hate this,” the Seer grumbled, rubbing the scrapes along his bearded chin. “I really, truly hate every aspect of this entire affair.”
“You hate this,” muttered Kerris, and he too rubbed at the scrapes along his thighs. “I’m going to end up a black-and-blue panther by the time this journey is finished.”
“You should have let me fall,” Sireth said to Kerris but he was staring at Kirin. “Then you could have gone home and spared yourself the bruising.”
“Yes, but that would have been dishonorable, and my brother would have made me clean up the mess as punishment.” He glanced up. “Kirin?”
The Captain shook his head, letting his eyes follow the line of torches dotting the Great Wall. They seemed to go on forever.
“Kirin, are you alright?”
Four leopards dead. Bandits, avalanches, icy rivers and now the Wall. He had so hoped that by reaching the Wall, they would end their trials and ride smoothly, effortlessly, to the end of this sojourn. He had hoped to kill the Ancestor with a clean, honorable sword, and return home to his Great House, to his chamber, to his Empress.
But he knew now that Bushido would not allow this, and Bushido was his master.
He knew it now, in his heart of hearts, the only way to serve both Empress and master.
He would kill the Ancestor, then kill himself. Honor would be restored with his own death.
He would not be returning home.
The Broken Road
Most Honoured Excellency,
Our party has experienced a difficult few days, as you have no doubt been informed. I regret to report the loss of four of your Leopard Guard and I alone bear the responsibility for this. I cannot shake the fear that they will not be the last casualties on this remarkable journey.
Your Seer, Sireth benAramis, claims to have seen a Vision of Sha’Hadin, overcome by the brothers of Agara’tha. Since we cannot confirm the truth of this, I humbly request your direction in this matter. We shall return or continue as you wish. We are yours to command.
For the moment, we continue to Lahore. We await word from you there.
In Your Service,
Kirin Wynegarde-Grey
The morning had started out angry, a fact that did not surprise anyone. The sky was so thick with clouds that one need only reach out over the Wall’s edge, it seemed, to catch one. The sun was hiding, having conceded the dawn to her rival the moon and their mutual suitor, the wind, howled madly for them both. Today, he was a strong suitor.
The pace of the horses was dismal. Along the Wall, smooth straight stretches alternated with steep steps as it rose and fell with the Mountains. Usually, horses could maintain a steady trot for the most part but today, a trot was impossible for in that bouncing two-beat gait, a horse was suspended for a heartbeat above the ground. Today, the wind was such that, in that heartbeat, a hoof could easily be snatched from the stone and both horse and rider sent tumbling over the edge. Today, like their souls, they crawled.
Kirin tucked his head deep into his hood, once again Imperial gold, fresh and clean from the garrison town. At least it wasn’t raining, he thought darkly. That would be the ultimate insult, but then again, clouds so often were insulting. Dog-like they were, constantly reaching for the Kingdom’s skies, muffling her warm sun and pelting cats with water.
Briefly, he allowed his eyes to scan the party of horses in front of him. Kerris and Quiz took the lead, the mountain pony looking very sorry with its head low to the ground and its wild mane and tail a victim of the gales. A more satisfying view was that of the Imperial horses, manes shaven, tails bound, plowing through the gusts like water buffalo through a river. Two leopards in the fore, followed by Alchemist and Scholar, each clutching cloaks over their heads, one black, one green. Next, the Major and the Seer, faces forward and uncloaked, as if daring the wind to beat them. Kirin shook his head. Ursa Laenskaya - meditating. Never would he have thought such a thing. And never would she have let a man touch her, as surely he must have. A shame he wasn’t Pure. He would put a stop to it at once.
Finally, the last two leopards brought up the rear, leading the packhorses behind them. This way they traveled for hours, passing battle tower after battle tower before the Captain called a halt at noon.
They huddled chilled and weary inside a tower keep, sipping hot tea and soup provided by the keep’s guards. Messages were sent between towers daily via kestrel. Kestrels were small hawk-like birds, similar to falcons in look and intelligence. Despite the wind, the kestrels had managed to alert other towers to the approach of the Imperial party, and preparations had been hastily but efficiently made to accommodate them, should the need arise.
Kirin did not find it odd, then, that not a single word passed between them during the short break for lunch. He hadn’t even needed speak to the tower guards to be presented with several skins of hot soup for the journey which he accepted with gratitude and a good measure of pride. He never failed to be impressed with the consistency of their training. Then again, consistency was the very heart of Bushido. He could not imagine otherwise.
So again, they set out into the driving wind. It wasn’t long before the Captain found himself losing track of time. Hours blended and the afternoon crept forward, a constant struggle against the gale. Once, he saw motion from under his hood, knew instinctively that a horse had stumbled, and the sharp wave of danger swept through him. Even alMassay was blowing hard, the sounds rumbling around his great chest like thunder. This was madness, the Captain thought to himself. They would stop at the next battle tower for the night.
The wind picked up again, drowning all sound but its wailing, as they neared a great, unfamiliar mountainside. The Wall rose to meet it, steps mirroring the steep angle as she prepared herself to climb again. 20 steps then plateau, 20 steps then plateau. With increasing fury, the wind blew, snatching snow from the rock face and throwing it in bitter circles across the stone
corridor. Even this had become a weapon against them. Kirin could see Quiz begin the treacherous climb, skittering as his small hoofs fought for traction. 20 steps, then plateau. The leopards next, a struggle even with greater horses. 20 steps, then plateau.
Stumbling and skidding, the party of horses ascended the mountain on the back of the Great Wall, 20 steps then plateau. In fine weather, this would have been difficult enough but in this gale, it was misery. Kirin could see nothing of the others as alMassay struggled with the climb, his view restricted to the steps directly in front of him. And finally, when he was certain the stallion would drop from exhaustion, the steps ended and they stood on the rampart of a large battle tower, Imperial Standard whipping defiant and proud.
Tower guards met him, taking alMassay and ushering the Captain inside, where he was greeted with warm blankets and hot tea. His ears were still ringing from the wind as he surveyed his people, sprawled against the walls of the keep, too numb to move. He slid down next to his brother.
“Will tomorrow be the same?”
“Worse,” muttered Kerris. His eyes were closed, chin to chest, and his night-blue hood pulled over his head. “Tomorrow, the skies will fall.”
The Captain had barely placed his empty teacup on the stone floor before he surrendered to the blackness.
***
blackness, blackness and candles, books burning, journals, 100 summers of journals burning in circle of chalk, old eyes weeping, painted walls, painted panthers, scrubbed free with sulphur and acid, paint burning, searing, golden eyes curling into wet ash, Tiberius beaten and weeping in the snow
“Captain.”
Noble Tiberius, Wise Petrus, Sha’Hadin broken and weeping in the snow
“Captain?”
He awoke with a start.
“Yes?”
A leopard was kneeling before him.
“Sir. The second watch has begun.”
“Thank you.”
With a deep breath, he roused himself. The coal brazier in the centre of the room cast long flickering shadows up the tower’s brick walls. His people lay scattered around it like living mats. Even his own leopards slept with them this night, as deserving of rest as the others, perhaps more so. The wind howled outside the tiny windows, but unlike those in Sha’Hadin, these had been wisely fitted with the thickest of glass.
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