Spirit Gate

by Kate Elliott

  The pain was of the kind that may bring a twisted smile to the lips. “Reeves do not train as soldiers. We were clumsy enough that we did ourselves little physical damage, thank the gods. But we did enough.” He shook his head, shook it off. There wasn’t time for this. As Marit had once told him: You think too much.

  “Three flights out of Argent Hall rest in the Lending this night. Two flights out of Clan Hall remain near the Argent Hall flights, to watch them. Our intention is to stay away from the Argent Hall reeves at dawn, not to engage unless we have no choice. As for the next step, that is up to you.”

  Anji bit his lower lip, looking thoughtful.

  Folk murmured, but no one spoke up. All deferred to the Qin commander.

  “How many left, do you think, at Argent Hall?” he asked Joss.

  “How many reeves and eagles?” Joss considered poor, dead Pari’s report. He considered what he had himself observed. “Each hall is meant to house six hundred reeves. But there are never six hundred on any given night, or in any given month. Some are assigned to Clan Hall. Some range on sweep patrols. Some eagles have left for their nesting season. A few will have lost their reeves and gone to the mountains for whatever it is they do there to comfort themselves. Some reeves may be on leave to visit their families. Others will be in training. I happen to know that at least fifty reeves abandoned Argent Hall when the new marshal took over the cote. I happen to know that no reeveless eagle has chosen a new rider in many seasons. Some have transferred out to new halls. Three flights sit in the Lending, trapped by darkness.”

  “Why trapped?” Anji asked.

  Joss shrugged, gesturing toward the lamps that lit the hall. “Eagles are blind at night. They are essentially helpless. They cannot fly, and it is impossible for them to strike what they cannot see. Their hearing is good, but they live by their eyes.”

  Anji nodded. “They cannot fly. But I can. How many blind eagles remain trapped by darkness at Argent Hall tonight?”

  “No more than a hundred. Probably less.”

  “What will those three flights out of Argent Hall, the ones out on the Lending, do tomorrow?”

  “Most likely a few will fly to the army, while the rest will return to their hall.”

  Anji nodded. “Let none reach the army.”

  “To do that, I would have to kill those who try.”

  “They will kill you. Best you strike first.”

  “If there is war between the reeves, then justice may never again be served in this land. Even if Argent Hall is corrupt, and I believe it must be, we may do worse mischief in trying to cut out this corruption.”

  “No choice is not a choice,” said Anji.

  Joss saw that the decision was already made. To the Qin captain, the ancient traditions of the Hundred were merely words, no more meaningful than the babble of the arguing council. But then, after all, the man surprised him.

  “I do not go against the customs of your land lightly, Joss. Do not think I demean them or think little of them. But if I were you, I would rather choose to live. It’s time to attack Argent Hall.”

  Joss sighed. Among that crowd, many sighed, hearing that a decision had been made. It was easier that someone else had the courage, the boldness, to set foot on the path all others would avoid, fearing the consequences.

  Yet one person was reckless enough to raise her voice, to speak against the captain.

  “This will not do,” said Mai, rising from her seat. “What use to me a husband who is dead? For what will you risk yourself? Why risk yourself and your men at all, when the Greater Houses brought this trouble on themselves? When they thought there was no risk for them, they imprisoned Reeve Joss and lied to all of us about his whereabouts. When they thought they had an alliance with these others, this army and its leaders, they refused our entreaty to grant us nothing more than a place to settle, somewhere out of the way. They exiled us! They only called us back when they were desperate, when they saw they had been betrayed! They did not themselves even release the reeve. A hierodule acting on behalf of the temple freed him, although then the council pretended they had done so to curry favor with us, as a sign of good faith. I don’t consider lies to be a sign of good faith! You have done enough, Anji. You have purchased a day for them to prepare themselves. If they have not made use of that day, it is not your fault! I say we ride out with the coin we received from the Greater Houses for last night’s commission.”

  Master Feden pushed forward. How different he seemed now, to Joss’s eye! The big, bossy, imperious man might cow the council, but Joss could only see him as a ridiculous blusterer bound by rope to a chair with his mouth popping like that of a stranded fish. Gods, what he would not do for a glimpse of Zubaidit! But she was gone, utterly gone, and never coming back.

  “You can’t leave now!” Feden cried. “You made a bargain with us!”

  “We agreed through Master lad to fight one action only,” said Mai. “The attack on the strike force, to buy the city time to gather its population inside the gates. That action was completed. Successfully, as we all know.”

  Folk murmured, shuffled feet. “Do something, Feden. Do something!”

  “You got us into this!”

  One merchant commanded a sizable contingent at his back, and a grim smile on his lips. He wore the badge on his silk jacket marking him as a merchant who trafficked in flesh. Feden, glancing that way, saw that smile and those supporters. He might have been a trapped rat, staring at the dog ready to chomp its neck.

  He looked back at Mai. “But you must help us!”

  “I see no reason to bargain with the Greater Houses at this juncture,” Mai said, “considering all that has gone before. If we deal, we deal with the whole of Olossi’s council, an open vote of all members with a right to sit in on council meetings.”

  Joss judged Feden’s degree of shock by the heaving way the man panted, as if taking in her words as breath but finding that breath choked him. “That goes against all our traditions. That way, with so many voting, lies madness. Only the Greater Houses have the wisdom, the stake in security and peace, the many generations building Olossi’s fortunes, to make proper decisions!”

  The young Silver cried out. “Let’s have a vote, now. A vote to elect our council master. Take the roll!”

  Feden could not protest, even though a Haf Gi Ri had raised the issue, even though the Haf Gi Ri could not vote. He and his allies had already lost, and he knew it. Quickly, the roll was read, and votes tallied around the hall from every one of the Greater Houses, the Lesser Houses, and the guilds. Sixteen votes for Feden. All the rest, to Joss’s surprise, were for the same man, a merchant named Master Calon.

  Yet why should he be surprised? Mai and Anji were not surprised. Nor was Master Calon. Like the ambush last night, this had obviously been carefully planned.

  Beads of sweat left runnels through the powder that gave a smooth color to Master Feden’s aging skin. His fingers twitched in spastic patterns. “This can’t be. This is out of order. I won’t allow it. You have no right.”

  Master Calon stepped smoothly into the open ground, from which he surveyed the assembly with a look of satisfaction. He nodded at Anji, and Feden saw that nod.

  “We’ve been betrayed!” Feden cried. “Can’t you see it? We’ve been betrayed by these two wolves, acting in concert.”

  “Yes, we have,” said Master Calon. “We’ve been betrayed by you, Feden. By you, and the Greater Houses, making deals with an enemy out of the north. Wolves, all of you, eating our young. Let this be the end of it.” He acknowledged Mai. “Verea, our business with you remains unfinished.”

  “But—! But—!” All ignored Feden, even his old allies.

  Mai’s expression was so bland that, as his aunties might say, one would not know she had already licked the cream.

  “Olossi’s council seeks our aid to defeat the army that will soon lay in a siege outside your walls. Very well. I’ll state our price.” She paused.

  Abruptly, Maste
r Calon’s smug expression wavered. He blinked. He looked worried.

  She went on. “It is the custom of the Qin to control the taxes and tolls of any territory which lies under their governance. Therefore, we will require a specified grant of land, a designated territory, over which the captain and his family hold the right to exact taxes and tolls as long as heirs of his body unto all generations are alive. This grant of land will contain pasturage sufficient to maintain two hundred households as well as farmlands tenanted by local families. These fields will be taxed at the rate of one part in nine, to be farmed in common. That portion goes to the governor, that is, the captain and his family. According to the custom of the Qin, pasturage sufficient for a household can be measured by the amount of land one man can ride around in one day. Wives will be found for all of the men who desire to settle down in a household and with pasturage of their own. In addition, a single payment will be made in this manner: From each of the houses that make up the Greater Houses, fifty cheyt, for a total of seven hundred and fifty cheyt. From the Lesser Houses and guilds, in common, two hundred and fifty cheyt.”

  In the quiet, Joss heard distinctly the intake of breath from those gathered, even Master Calon. Especially Master Calon. Joss was himself dizzied by the amounts so casually falling from her pretty tongue.

  Captain Anji had his head tipped slightly and appeared to be looking not at Mai but at Toughid’s boots. His mouth was pulled so tight that at first Joss thought he was angry, and then he realized the captain was trying not to smile. The two Silvers, younger and older, were smiling, as at an apt pupil or a masterful parry.

  She raised both hands, palms up, to signify that no coin had yet changed hands. “According to the law of the Hundred, each of the members party to the agreement will swear to abide by the agreement as long as the captain or any of his heirs, or the heirs of any of his soldiers, still live in this country. No deliberate harm will be inflicted on any of the parties by any of the others, nor will any of the parties renege on the agreement once the danger is past. For our part, we will abide by the agreement, aid Olossi, and settle peaceably afterward in lands set aside under Qin control. Is the council agreed, Master Calon?”

  Master Calon shut his eyes as if gathering strength to reply.

  “I don’t agree!” sputtered Feden. “It’s too much! You all know it’s too much. Land! Coin! Gods and hells! How are you standing for this? A payment, a single payment, a simple bargain of labor in exchange for work done should be—”

  Mai cut him off. “Agree to our terms, or find someone else to help you.”

  The bell boomed to life, and tolled once, twice, three times. The sound washed like a wave over them and kept moving. At length, its voice died away.

  Master Calon opened his eyes. He stepped in front of Feden and put a hand on the other man’s chest. “You and your allies brought this down on us all,” he said coldly. “You and the other Greater Houses betrayed this town, for what you thought would be your own benefit. Did you not?”

  Feden trembled. He looked at the floor. He did not answer. In the crowd, folk shifted away from certain people, isolating them.

  Calon swept his gaze over the assembly. Indeed, he seemed overcome by emotion, ready to break down and weep. “What choice have we? What choice?” He turned back to Mai, held out his hands, palms up, signifying that no coin had yet changed hands. “Let Sapanasu give Her blessing to those who fulfill the bargains they make, and Her curse to any who turn their backs on what they have sworn in Her name. Let it be marked and sealed.”

  “Let it be marked and sealed.” She might have just sold a cupful of almonds in exchange for two vey.

  Anji raised his quirt. Many held their breath. A few stepped back, as if to get out of range.

  “Let all the people of Olossi do their part,” he said curtly. “Let the council act wisely. And swiftly.” He took a step back to survey the map being drawn by Jonit under the light of a pair of oil lamps. “As for myself, I had thought to stay here and order the city’s defense, but that task will have to fall to Captain Waras, Master Calon, and the council. It’s a shame,” he added, with a frown, “that the priestess, Zubaidit, has departed, for I am supposing she would accomplish what I am not entirely sure this council can. Well.” With a cutting motion, he sliced that notion away. “No use trying to eat food that doesn’t exist. I have a different plan now, a better one. Eagles are blind at night, but we are not. I’ll need a hundred competent guardsmen who can be ready to ride immediately with my troop.”

  The captain looked at the two Silvers, as if to mark a promise they had made to him, then at his wife. She had the most astonishing face, open and fathomless, so lovely to look upon yet hiding her true feelings. He offered to her no fulsome farewells, no touching good-byes, as in the old tales. He had no time for such sentiments. After a moment, she looked down at her hands.

  “We ride.” With a gesture, Anji called his men, and the Qin soldiers left the hall.

  Joss followed them.

  50

  They crossed the River Olo on a bridge made of floating barges strung on chains across the current. Later, when Shai looked over his shoulder, the hill that marked Olossi was barely visible as a dark irregularity on the southern horizon. All else lay so flat beyond the raised roadway that the landscape seemed artificial, as if the earth had been planed smooth. Members of the Olossi militia strode alongside, holding lanterns to light their way. These were young men, eager to prove themselves. In the shifting bands of light he saw them grinning, in contrast to the grim Qin soldiers, who had been up for two days and had already fought a battle. But as the company strode along, it was the militiamen who rubbed their aching thighs, who paused to gulp down an extra breath of air or take a slug of bracing spirits.

  Shai stumbled as he walked, even though the road was well made and level. Half the time he leaned against his horse for support. How the Qin soldiers and horses endured this relentless pace he could not imagine. About half of the herd had been left behind to recover at Olossi under the stewardship of Mai and the clan that had taken her in. That act alone made Shai understand that Captain Anji had committed to the enterprise in the way a man standing at the top of a cliff takes an irrecoverable step forward into the gulf. No Qin soldier left behind his string of mounts except with clansmen.

  The ground on all sides lay dry and dusty. Parched irrigation ditches ran at right angles, black threads trailing off into the darkness. Yet there was water in the soil, more than there ever was in Kartu country, which was fed by no mighty river. Plants grew alongside the ditches, and ranks of trees rose at the shores of shallow ponds. Even the taste of the air had changed. The locals whispered of the rains coming, bringing with them the new year and its festival.

  They passed through a village whose houses were slung along either side of the road; the silence that accompanied their march was that of a town abandoned, not sleeping. A single dog yipped at them, then scuttled around a corner. Soon they passed beyond houses and storage sheds built up on logs, past shelters and empty byres, back into the flatlands with rectangular fields scored into a patchwork by irrigation ditches.

  They took a turning off the main road, a two-cart road, as the locals called such, and struck out onto a narrower path. This one-cart road was also raised on a berm, so it almost felt as if they were walking on the air like spirits or demons.

  On and on they marched, into the night. A breeze rose up off the distant salt sea, whose broad expanse was not yet visible ahead of them. Once a shadow passed overhead, but probably it was Reeve Joss. According to Anji, he alone of the eagle riders was carried by an eagle who trusted his rider so thoroughly that the creature was willing to fly blind. Still, how could any of them be sure, if he did not land?

  The stars shimmered in a hard, clear sky. Shai marked the progress of the shadow as it moved west, briefly blotting out individual stars and clusters which reappeared as the blot flew on. At length, he could no longer see it.

  Was that re
ally the reeve? Or a man wearing the face and voice of Hari?

  The world, like those river barges, seemed to tilt and sway beneath him. He could not keep his feet when the road would keep shifting, rising and falling with each fresh step. Everything had pitched him off his balance, and he could not find steady footing.

  What creature had spoken to him? Hari was dead dead dead. He knew that, because he always knew what was dead and what was living. Hari’s wolf ring had spoken with the voice of truth; objects could not lie, not to him, not to anyone. They had not the capacity. Yet it seemed he was wrong, because that had been Hari on the road. He had been solid, angry, passionate; he had scolded Shai, just as he always used to do. Get up, Shai! Speak up, Shai! Run faster, Shai! You can, Shai! You must, Shai! Hari was the best of the brothers, the one who cared, the one who struggled. That was why he had run from the stultifying walls and customs imposed upon the sons of the Mei clan. Yet after being marched away by the Qin, had Hari been sold into slavery, or his services as a mercenary sold to the highest bidder? It was impossible to know, unless Shai could find Hari again. But how could he find Hari again when Hari was dead?

  Yet the man he had seen was living, or was living at least at that time when he had first seen him, on the road, riding a winged horse. How anyone could survive such a barrage of arrows, all striking true, and that well-aimed javelin cast, Shai did not know. No person could. So that meant that Hari was dead after all. But if he was a ghost, then the other men shouldn’t have been able to see him.

  Jagi strode up beside him and bent close.

  “Don’t let us down,” he said in a low voice. “The landsmen think you’re one of us, but you’re staggering like one of them.”

  Better to have kicked him and have done with it! Shai stiffened, his only reply a puff of breath between gritted teeth. Jagi faded back to the ranks of the tailmen. So after all Tohon had been right: the tailmen tolerated him, but did not respect him. He belonged to no one, not to the Mei clan, who had been eager to be rid of such an unlucky son, or to the Qin, who tolerated him solely because of his kinship to their captain’s wife. He hadn’t seen Tohon for three days, and was himself not skilled enough to ride as a scout.