A few more breaths. This was so awkward, but to get through it he must get through it. The best way to do that was to hit her so directly she was stunned to silence, and then he would regain some control. "Queen Corinn"-he gasped-"first, you must know that Sire Neen and much of the envoy were killed. Ah-" He flinched at a change in the pressure of the knife. He grasped the dolphin pendant hanging from his chest, the symbol of the league, and caressed it between his fingers. "The mission is a failure. We were betrayed in the most foul way. There are traitors within the walls of the palace at this very moment. Please, have the woman draw back her knife."
Corinn did not do so. "My brother?"
"I know not," Sire Dagon admitted.
"Is he alive?"
"I don't know. Perhaps he was captured. He was under our full protection, of course, but was, as I said, betrayed. We think-"
"By whom?"
"The Lothan Aklun. The Auldek. Both. We arrived to find them at war. They both sought to make us pawns. Tricked us. There was a massacre. And, Your Majesty, most important right now: the Numrek have betrayed us."
Corinn stood still. For a long time she looked like some beautiful, bloodless witch, the type of being who might haunt and excite adolescent nightmares. For a few moments, Sire Dagon felt he might have failed. There was too much to say, too much to explain, too many lies to navigate, even as he created more. For a moment, the idea of Rhrenna slicing his life from him did not seem so bad. At least it would end the complications.
"What do you mean the Numrek betrayed us?"
"They-Oh, it's hard to explain with a dagger at my throat."
Corinn shrugged. "Do it anyway."
So he did. As best he could, flinching often, feeling the trickles of blood that oozed out of small nicks made by the knife. He could smell Rhrenna's breath-not unpleasant-and hear the moist coagulation of his blood on her fingers when she flexed them. He told of how the Ambergris arrived to find the Lothan Aklun and Auldek in open war with each other. The Aklun were suffering, nearly defeated; Sire Neen tried to arrange a peace, but he failed. The Auldek met with him under the guise of parley, he said, but Calrach chose the moment to switch sides. The Auldek were their cousins, similar in many ways. Together, they slaughtered the entire delegation party. Only a few from the landing party got back to the Ambergris. The vessel stayed a time in Aklun waters, trying to assess the situation. By the time they sailed for home, they believed two things: the Lothan Aklun were all but conquered, and the Numrek were trying to get the Auldek to attack the Known World via the same route they had used.
So he spoke. He did not tell the truth, save for the final point. As an alternative, though, his version of events was no less credible than the real one.
"You are telling me we're at war? At war with a race I've done nothing to? All because of a league gambit gone wrong? All because you couldn't tell an enemy from a friend?"
Sire Dagon seemed to have difficulty accepting the entirety of the statement, but he could not settle on which part to take issue with. He answered rather sheepishly, "Ah… yes. In part." And then, not so sheepishly, "We were not the only ones fooled. But that doesn't matter. Your Majesty, at the moment I pray that we have the leisure for you to berate our stupidity at length. Now is not the time, though. The Numrek have played us all for fools, and they yet stand outside your door. Your Majesty, they must be exterminated. Right now. Today. This very hour. The vessel the messenger arrived in is stuffed with Ishtat. They are armed and ready, and they will take the palace any moment now."
"What?" Corinn somehow made the word sound like a spell of damnation.
"It's all we can do. If the Numrek knew that their brethren have succeeded, they'd begin the slaughter. That's what they've been waiting for, a sign to commence."
"The Marah. They will-"
"Some will die in the confusion. But others we've tried to contact, to explain-"
"You take great liberties!" Rhrenna spoke through teeth that still seemed ready to bite.
"And why should I believe you? The Numrek have never once shown a sign of deceit."
"Oh, yes they have. Majesty, they've written their treachery in blood. In your brother's blood, I fear. You haven't seen it, but must you lay eyes on everything to believe it real? As for you, why would I come to you with this tragedy if it were not true? What fool would make up such misfortune?"
Corinn stared at him for a long moment. "If this is true, how would the Numrek learn what happened? They're not going to pilot a ship back themselves, are they?"
"I… I don't know," Sire Dagon sputtered.
"Would one of your people carry the message?"
"No, of course not. They've attacked us. We-"
Rhrenna interrupted. "You're the messenger."
"What?" Sire Dagon grimaced. "No, I'm here to warn you."
"You fool," Rhrenna continued. "If what you've said is true, look at what you've just done. You walked in here sweating, ashen-faced, nervous. You think the Numrek guards wouldn't notice that? Then you push us into a secret room! What more confirmation do they need that something grave has happened? And you're going to attack them? Only a handful of them are on the island. The rest will learn all they need to know because of your actions!"
Sire Dagon was speechless for a moment. He then said, "But we've brought Ishtat. They'll attack any moment. That's why we are safe in here." But even as he said this he felt his logic falling away beneath him. Of course his actions would confirm the betrayal in the Other Lands. The few Numrek on Acacia would die, but they would act as assassins in their last moments. Perhaps his appearance had given them a few extra minutes to kill chosen targets. The rest of the clan, safely on the Teh Coast, would dig in and wait. Who knew what preparations they had made already, what supplies and weapons had been stored?
Corinn, speaking to Rhrenna now, snapped, "How many Numrek are within the palace today?"
When the Meinish woman craned around to answer, Corinn flicked her fingers, indicating she could release him. She did, and Sire Dagon's fingers went immediately to his throat. He touched it gently, as if his fingers could somehow do more damage than the blade had. He realized Rhrenna was answering the queen, but he caught only the end of it.
"… and there is a handful with Aaden and Mena at the Carmelia Stadium."
The queen let out a gasp of air, as if she had just been punched in the chest. She did it again, forming it into a word this time. "Aaden!"
She stepped for the hidden door, but Sire Dagon dove to block it from her.
"Out of my way!" Corinn hissed this so fiercely that Sire Dagon, despite knowing it was the worst possible action, half stepped to the side. He could not help it, for it suddenly seemed she had the power to crush him in an instant if he did not obey.
Her shoulder brushed him and he watched her from the back as she sought out the contours that would open the door. She had just leaned to push against it when one of the Numrek, Codeth, called for the queen from the other side of the door. The feigned calm of his voice was short-lived. A rush of new voices beat it down, with the clang of steel on steel and the commotion of furniture being overturned.
Nearer, Sire Dagon heard the queen whisper her son's name, barely more than an exhaled breath.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Sitting beside Devoth was the most unnerving experience Rialus had ever lived through. The Auldek had all the brutal physicality of their Numrek cousins. If anything, they had distilled it to its essence and then stirred into it a strange gentility that was all the more incongruous. Something like ferocious anger seethed beneath Devoth's tanned features, but above it lay a veneer of boredom. Rialus could not decide whether Devoth was passionate about life or completely fatigued by it. That was confusing, but even more unsettling was that the Auldek oozed more aristocratic confidence than any Acacian noble Rialus had ever seen-and he had seen many.
Devoth leaned back in his seat, one arm propped at an angle, his knees splayed wide. It was a posture of comple
te relaxation that also managed to convey that he could spring to his feet at any moment and stride across the world lopping off heads. Devoth now wore a shirt, a thin, somewhat dandyish white cotton garment with crimson satin buttons that matched his trousers. A gold band ringed his thick neck. The tips of his long fingernails had been glazed silver, and his eyes-if Rialus was not mistaken-were lined with black makeup. If Rialus had seen a Numrek so dressed in Acacia he would have laughed at the absurdity of it; here, the effect was almost dashing.
"Rialus Leagueman," Devoth asked, "how do you enjoy being our guest?"
They were sitting with a few others in a private box, beneath an awning of a silken fabric that sheltered them from the strength of the sun. Above and below them stretched a stadium to rival Acacia's Carmelia. The terraced benches surrounding it rose at a steep angle to a dizzying height. Rialus knew that the field was actually dug into the earth; the appearance of height was actually one of depth. But, situated as he was at the midpoint of its height, the view below and the expanse above made him queasy.
"You've no complaints, I hope," Devoth prodded. "Rialus Leagueman?"
Rialus Leagueman! What an annoyance! He had tried several times to make the Auldek understand that he was not part of the league. He hated them, as a matter of fact. They had brought him here as a prisoner! He spat on leaguemen and had nothing in common with them! So he had said, but it never sank in. One guard had even squeezed Rialus's skull and murmured something about the egg shape of it, and then laughed at Rialus's sputtering refutation that there was anything leaguelike about the shape of his head.
Curses and exclamations bounced around in a fury in Rialus's mind, but he had to bite back his complaints and reply, "You've been most… kind."
Devoth seemed pleased to hear it. He looked at the other high-ranking Auldek seated nearby, making sure they took note of Rialus's response. They were all of his clan, except Calrach; his son, Allek; and his half brother, Mulat. The fact that they were allowed to sit with Devoth's people was a considerable honor. Allek, in particular, drew stares and whispers wherever he went. If Rialus had not known the reason for their astonishment he would have thought the boy a long-lost prince. He was more than that: he was a miracle to a people who had not seen a child of their race in hundreds of years. Calrach, always more canny than Rialus expected, had known what he was doing when he brought him along.
Allek, who sat in the row in front of Rialus and Devoth, turned around and jabbed Rialus's leg. "Tell the truth, Neptos. Which is the richer people: Acacians or Auldek? I know what I would say, but what about you?"
Rialus had the momentary desire to kick the grinning youth in the face, but he answered the boy calmly. He had actually expected some question like this, considering how much pleasure the Numrek seemed to take in publicly taunting him. "I can't answer that. I've seen most of the Known World, which is wide and rich and wondrous, but I've seen very little of Ushen Brae-as yet only Avina."
"And what do you think of it?" Allek pushed.
"Very impressive," Rialus admitted, "from what I've seen-"
"From what you've seen?" Mulat broke in. He had just bitten a piece of roasted pork taken from the plates of food that occasionally passed from hand to hand. His chewing did not hinder his speaking. "What you've seen is less than nothing. It's but a sliver. Avina stretches along the coast for thirty miles. Thirty miles of city, of palaces and stadiums and monuments: there is nothing to match that in your lands."
Devoth did not seem pleased with the Numrek presumptions. He did not address them, smiling instead at Rialus. "You will see more, Rialus Leagueman. Many grand things. You're our guest, so you'll see the things that make us great. We will always treat you well, now and in the future. You can be sure of it. You believe me?"
He had to push it, didn't he? Rialus thought. They always did. It was one way the Auldek were not so different from their Numrek cousins.
"Yes, of course," Rialus began, but then faltered, unsure how to express his emotions. What was he? Grateful to be alive? Thrilled to have watched everyone he had traveled across the Gray Slopes with be slaughtered? Looking forward to whatever bloody spectacle he was here to watch? Overjoyed to be trapped in a land of brutes who threatened to stick red-hot pokers up his backside? Content to know almost nothing of his fate or what was expected of him? Resigned that if he did ever find his way back to Acacia, the queen would squash him beneath her shapely foot?
"I'm quite comfortable," he managed.
"Good, good." Devoth grinned and tossed his hair around. "It gives me joy to hear it."
The man's hard chin cut the air as he looked about, his eyes lit green by the sun. He kept brushing his hair back from his face, but he also moved in a manner to make sure it fell right back before his eyes a second later. Rialus almost suggested he tie it back with a cord, or perhaps get it trimmed. Not for the first time, Rialus wondered if Devoth was simpleminded. Or if he really might be unaware of the way in which Rialus's life was a misery. He knew neither was likely. Devoth, Rialus feared, was in complete control of everything.
The crowd, which had waited amid a murmur of conversation, erupted in applause and shouts. Rialus kept his gaze on Devoth, who was on his feet, roaring with the rest of them. Lucky, because Rialus would not have managed to hide his animus if Devoth had been paying attention to him. He felt his indignation rising again. It did not get far, because his eyes caught the motion on the field. His mouth opened, silent while those around him cheered.
From six different openings in the wall of the arena, columns of armed soldiers strode onto the field. By their relatively normal stature, Rialus could tell they were not Auldek, but neither did they appear entirely human. One group wore wolf-head helmets. Another was composed entirely of squat, muscled brutes, their naked torsos gray, metal barbs jutting from their cheeks. They bore curved short swords in both hands. Yet another group were slim as acrobats and wore light blue, with plumes on their heads in place of helmets. They carried only slender pikes.
"You understand this, Rialus Leagueman?" Devoth asked.
"Not in the slightest," Rialus admitted.
The Auldek laughed. "Ah, I forget your ignorance. So much to learn."
"Those soldiers, they are not Auldek?"
"Of course, not!" someone in the row behind Rialus exclaimed. "Auldek do not draw Auldek blood. What do you think us?"
Devoth explained, "It was agreed that we would not kill our own. That is why our ultimate punishment is banishment, not death. We fight among ourselves, yes." He grinned, making the statement seem an admission of a guilty pleasure. "But in something like this-a matter to be decided in blood-we let our slaves represent us. It is an honor for them. These are special slaves, selected to be divine children. They are elevated above other slaves. Before you are totem warriors of the eight clans of the Auldek. Here. See over there?"
He leaned across Rialus, pointing first toward groups of warriors who had feline facial tattoos, and then the others as he named them. "The Shivith, the spotted cats. Those over there are the Kern, the blue cranes. They look slim, yes? Delicate? Don't be fooled. They're deadly. The Anet clan worships the hooded snake. The Kulish Kra-those with their backs to us-black crows. Those gray ones-Antoks. The wolves represent the Wrathic from beyond the Sky Mount. The Fru Nithexek are brothers of the sky bear, but they are weak, few in number. The Numrek… have no totem."
"And there"-Devoth drew back so that Rialus could see past him to the last group-"are the snow lions, the Lvin. Those are mine. My lions. My totem." He timed this announcement perfectly, for the Lvin were the last to enter. Though Rialus had no idea what a snow lion was, there was no mistaking the impact of the slaves so named. They came roaring like some beast of the Talayan plains. Most of them had white faces, sometimes tattooed or painted down across their torsos. In the center were the largest men, several of whom sported tresses as white as snow. As they marched and yelled and smacked life into those around them, their locks danced about them like sna
kes writhing.
"There are other totems in the land," Devoth continued, his voice low and filled with pride, "but they are small. Ants. These are the eight clans. We are the ones who decide the future; and today, we fight for the honor of being the spear point. None of your race has seen this. None other ever will. Enjoy and feel privileged."
Both enjoyment and feelings of privilege lived somewhere far from Rialus's present state of mind. He had yet to sort out the intricacies of Auldek social and political life. He doubted he would understand it all even if he spent years in Ushen Brae, which he prayed to the Giver that he would not. Over the last few days, Rialus had seen enough of the slaves to know that they were often tattooed, adorned with jewelry, and physically modified. But the changes were minor on the household servants. These warriors were monstrosities. Yet they were the Auldek's own creations. Why do that to them? Why not do it themselves if the Auldek found such things attractive?
Perhaps it was evidence of his compromised mental state, because before he could censor himself, Rialus heard this question escape his lips. "Why is it the slaves who are so adorned?"
The group answered him with incredulous silence.
"I would have thought that-" Rialus stopped, unsure what he might have thought. He changed tack. "I mean, why not yourselves? Since the animals are your totems-"
Mulat murmured a curse under his breath, and then added, "Stupid piss pot of a man. The totems are not animals. They are gods who live in the animals!"
Several Auldek faces continued to stare at him. Words came from his mouth, unbidden. "Very interesting that they-just slaves, I mean-decide this spear-point thing."
"That is what the slaves are for!" Calrach barked over his shoulder. "It is a blood test, you fool!"
"I see," Rialus said. "That explains it, then."
Devoth studied Rialus, making him unsure whether he was about to reach out and smash him across the nose or-
"Have a glass of juice," the Auldek said, motioning that a passing tray should be held for the Acacian's consideration.
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