Leviathan's Blood

by Ben Peek

  After months of newspaper articles, pamphlets and rumours paid for and naturally occurring in Yeflam, it would not have been difficult for the crowd to underestimate Muriel Wagan. Certainly, they had no respect for her, for her solitary walk to the podium was littered in jeers.

  For her part, Lady Wagan did not appear bothered. She was not a tall woman, so she could not hold herself in the fashion that conveyed a sense of superiority and power. She was not young enough, either, that she could cultivate a sense of innocence and a need for protection that would appeal to the crowd around her. No, Muriel Wagan, on the wrong side of being middle-aged, her body giving over to a loose fat after months on Wila, could not stand before the Yeflam people in any such form of grace or innocence. So she stood before them in disregard, the hem of her green and white gown trailing along the stone ground, the ends of it pulling and threading until she stood on the podium where others had and regarded those before her with an air of dismissal, as if she had heard what they would say already.

  ‘Lady Wagan.’ Lian Alahn raised his hands for quiet again and waited for the crowds to fall silent. ‘Muriel,’ he said, once they had. ‘Would you please tell us what happened between you and the Keepers Fo and Bau?’

  ‘Keepers Fo and Bau were sent to Mireea after I requested aid,’ she replied evenly. ‘We had a long-standing treaty with Yeflam regarding attacks, one signed before the first city was complete. Without going into all the details of it, our agreement was that if one of us were attacked, the other would help in defence of the land and people. I had a similar treaty with the Kingdoms of Faaisha and Leera. No such treaties exist between any nation and the Tribes of the Plateau, but others in regard to trade and border recognition do. We had never been forced to act on our treaties, but we were no longer confident that the number of attacks from Leera would remain small. Over the previous six months we had seen them increase and it was the belief of myself and Captain Aned Heast that the attacks were indicative of a larger force. Keepers Fo and Bau were sent in direct regards to that.’

  ‘If I may interrupt?’ Gall Bertan rose from his seat, not waiting for an answer. ‘I do not see the Captain here – will he be making himself available for us?’

  ‘I cannot answer that,’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because he no longer works for me.’

  ‘You have fired Aned Heast?’ Olivia Raz spoke in a dry, cynical voice. ‘Lady Wagan, you must think we are foolish to believe that.’

  ‘Serious allegations were made against him,’ Muriel Wagan replied without pause. ‘I believed that they were a serious threat to the political harmony between Yeflam and Mireea. Because of this, I was forced to dismiss him from my service.’

  ‘He is surely still on Wila?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No?’ Gall Bertan picked up the thread, outrage in his voice.

  ‘I am afraid,’ Lady Wagan said evenly, ‘that Aned Heast is his own man. He left Wila as a free man should.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Lian Alahn’s hand fell on Bertan’s shoulder, silencing him. ‘Muriel, you are not here to answer questions about your Captain.’

  ‘As I said, he is no longer in my employment.’

  ‘We are here to talk about Keepers Fo and Bau,’ he prompted.

  ‘Of course.’ A laugh ran through the crowd, but the Lady of the Ghosts did not react to it. ‘They arrived in Mireea under orders that they were observers. I had initially hoped that they would be part of my defence against the Leerans. Both would have made the war easier, but they had been given strict orders not to take part. Eventually, I was forced to accept this. As befitting their station, I gave them a lodging in one of my Keeps and allowed them access to what was happening on the Spine of Ger. Apart from state matters, very little was kept from them, and even some state matters were shared. Both attended a handful of public meetings, but largely, they stayed in the tower. I was horrified to hear later that they had been requesting staff to buy them small animals. Their superiors reported a high rate of mental trauma in the staff who had to pick up the remains of the creatures in the following days.’

  ‘I do not see what the studies of Keepers Fo and Bau have to do with this.’ Eira’s voice was cold. ‘Their dedication to their studies is well known.’

  ‘That dedication is well known,’ the Lady of the Ghosts said. ‘Even in Mireea, we heard about the plague on Xeq that had led to their arrival. In this particular situation, Keeper Fo’s work allowed us to make the connection between the animals he killed and the plague that he was responsible for unleashing on Mireea.’

  A different muttering emerged in the crowd around Ayae. To her left, she overheard a woman’s voice say, ‘Xeq’, and she heard the name of the city again and again. She could see the flames again falling from the sky and closed her eyes to block out the image. Behind her, Ayae heard a man mutter, ‘. . . compensation to the families!’ while another said sourly, ‘We were all his rats.’

  The Pauper rose from his seat. ‘You are making quite an accusation, Lady Wagan,’ he said over the crowd. ‘Do you have proof?’

  ‘Keeper Fo walked out of the hospital where it began,’ she replied evenly. ‘A report prepared by the Healer Reila Juloya is readily available to all here. She makes the connection between various events in the bodies of victims to a number of diseases that have been claimed by Keeper Fo as his own. Most notably, she suggests that it was a variation on the disease known as Divinities Facade. I am sure the name is well known in Yeflam. We found it in the remains of birds that Sergeant Illaan Alahn kept, and later in his body. Because of that, Reila Juloya was able to make the connection quite easily.’

  ‘We will examine the sergeant’s body—’

  ‘My son’s remains,’ Lian Alahn interrupted, ‘did not return from Mireea, Keeper.’

  ‘The bird did,’ Lady Wagan said. ‘Benan Le’ta has it.’

  The Yeflam Guard were forced to cry out for silence as the crowd erupted.

  ‘Why did you not bring the bird to us?’ the Pauper asked, once silence had been restored.

  ‘I was forced to use it as political leverage for the safety of my people,’ she replied, a hint of steel in her voice. ‘The Keepers had abandoned me on the Spine of Ger, and it was made very clear that I could not retreat to their gates. The Traders’ Union, however, disagreed. With the bird in his hand, Benan Le’ta planned to use it in a campaign against the Enclave. Yet there was resistance to his methods in the Traders’ Union – I would be correct in thinking that, would I not, Mister Alahn?’

  ‘I am not here to speak for the Traders’ Union,’ the man said in a sombre tone. ‘Sufficient to say, I did not agree with the use of my son in this matter.’

  ‘You had—’ Kaqua was forced to raise his voice over the crowd. Their discontent only grew and shouts could be heard at the back of the crowd, a verbal anger gaining momentum as it rolled towards the podium. ‘You had Qian,’ he repeated, after the guards cried out again and stopped the noise. ‘And you had suffered at the hands of the Keepers Fo and Bau. No one here denies that. That is why we are holding this trial. You need not speak ill of them unless your goal is to create a defence of Qian by doing so.’

  ‘Qian brought himself to Yeflam,’ Lady Wagan said. ‘He may have arrived in chains, but I had no more power over that than I had in putting Fo and Bau in chains.’

  ‘Remove her from the stand!’ Eira’s voice cut out sharply. ‘She is not a credible witness. She portrays Keepers Fo and Bau as if they were common criminals!’

  ‘No,’ Muriel Wagan replied easily. ‘I portray them as rabid dogs who deserved to die. Dogs I tried to kill myself.’

  The crowd erupted into shouts.

  Ayae felt a note of alarm run through her as the voices rose over Nale. The Yeflam Guard shouted out again, attempting to return order to the crowd, but they were drowned out. At the podium, both Xrie and Oake left their position beside Zaifyr to call out orders to the guards, who were looking increasingly frustr
ated. Ayae saw Kaqua raise his hands in the air and shout, but his voice could not be heard, either. She took a step forward awkwardly, the stiffness in her legs surprising her – but she forced herself to take another step, to push out of the crowd, to prepare herself to help Lady Wagan or, should the crowd turn on him, Zaifyr. By her third step, all the judges on the podium had risen, but none of their voices could be heard over the crowd.

  ‘ENOUGH!’ The Pauper’s voice thundered across Nale, the sheer force of it silencing the crowd. ‘Lady Wagan, you will explain yourself!’

  ‘I will?’ At the podium, the Lady of the Ghosts stood calmly. ‘Two men released a plague in Mireea and I responded in a way that accorded with my position. Soldiers of mine, along with members of the mercenary group Steel, and a woman you know, Ayae, were sent to kill both Keepers.’ At the mention of her name, Ayae felt suddenly exposed. ‘The casualties were very high, but I knew they would be. In truth, I did not know that any would survive. I had little choice, though: I had an army at my gates and no time for mercy. At the time I sent soldiers to kill Keepers Fo and Bau, Qian was near death. He had been a victim of Fo’s attack in the hospital – we believe he had followed the woman who had been the initial carrier into the building. My healers were not convinced that he would recover from it.’

  ‘Yet he did,’ Kaqua said. ‘Shortly before he raised the dead as ghosts in your very own city, very similarly to what he did in Asila.’

  ‘But unlike what happened in Asila, his actions saved the people of Mireea,’ Lady Wagan replied. ‘At no point should anyone forget that. Afterwards, he offered to come to Yeflam in chains, to ensure that a place of safety was provided for the Mireean people. I was surprised by that, but I agreed. The Leeran Army was still in place. The mountain itself had begun to crumble. My people were afraid and confused. I had little option, and I still believed that Yeflam would be the best place for myself and my people. Had I known that we would be treated as prisoners, I might have turned down Qian’s offer.’

  ‘You are safe here, Lady Wagan,’ the Keeper said. ‘All the Mireean people are safe here. It pains me to hear that you doubt that.’

  ‘I doubt it because my enemy walks the streets and I do not.’

  The silence that greeted Lady Wagan’s words was, Ayae thought, worse than the shouts that had arisen before. She turned to the judges, but could not find the discomfort of the crowd reflected upon their faces. Rather, her gaze found the Keeper known as the Cold Witch, and discovered that the woman whose anger had been so focused on Zaifyr, now regarded her with the same intensity.

  ‘Thank you, Lady Wagan,’ Lian Alahn said. ‘You may step down, unless Qian has questions for you.’

  ‘No,’ Zaifyr replied, his voice sounding strangely hollow, as if it spoke from a great distance. ‘I have no questions. However,’ he continued, and as he did, his voice seemed to return to him, as if it had travelled a line to speak to the crowd, ‘I do believe I will speak now.’

  What the Leviathan Saw

  ‘You are given three chances to embrace the Leeran God,’ Jiqana said to me. When I found her, she was owned by a rich Gogair family in Xanourne who had put her to work as a cleaner and cook for a private residency for diplomatic visitors. Before she had been blinded, Jiqana had been a chef, and it was because of these skills, in combination with her injury, that she was purchased for a good price. The owner promised his visitors that no face would be remembered in the new home he did not live in. It had turned out to be a popular promise, but on the evening that I met Jiqana, no one was in residence, and we talked long into the night while I made her tea in the kitchen. ‘The first time you are asked to embrace their god,’ she continued, ‘is when you are first brought into the camp, but no one agrees. Everyone knows that if you agree the first time you are seen as a liar. The Faithful kill those who do agree and then feed their flesh to their animals.’

  Jiqana saw other horrors before she was blinded. She saw men and women who were horribly distorted, and whose bodies were being modified by other Leeran soldiers upon their request. ‘Spikes, bones, furs, they asked for it all to be fixed to them permanently,’ she said. ‘There were not many of these men and women though: I saw only two, for example, but I heard others talked about. They all had two names, one for the past, and one for the future. The past names they spoke in a tone of reverence, while the present names were spoken in fear.’

  —Tinh Tu, Private Diary

  1.

  ‘They talk, Mister Le,’ the First Queen said in her whisper-thin voice. ‘Behind our backs, in the corners, and with the dark to help hide their raised hands. They talk about me. They talk about you. Occasionally, they talk about us together. They talk about how you did not show enough remorse when you asked for forgiveness, and they talk about how I forgave you too easily.’

  Bueralan pushed her chair to the edge of the balcony, the sound of Yoala Fe’s party muted behind glass doors. The First Queen rested in her heavy intricate wheelchair, a dark red blanket across her frail legs, the image of a woman in her final years, in her decline of power, an image that she had maintained before the men and women inside her daughter’s mansion. She had spent her first hours silent, offering smiles and nods to those who greeted her, before, seemingly reluctant, drawn into conversation. The people who spoke to her were Ooilan for the larger part, but a few brown-skinned Saan offered greetings, including Usa Dvir. The tall, thin man had bowed slightly, and his gaze had lingered on Bueralan uncomfortably, but he had not greeted the saboteur. Dvir, like most in the room, turned his attention to the Queen’s Voice, who stood beside the older woman. As they walked up the stairway to the mezzanine that overlooked the main floor, the Queen’s Voice replied to all the questions given to her with gentle humour, a simple warmth and, occasionally, coldness. She was still in the party, holding court just before the glass door Bueralan had closed.

  ‘You hear more than me,’ he told the First Queen.

  ‘Most of it I don’t hear at all, but they move their lips so clearly.’ A raspy laugh escaped her. ‘How quickly do you think they would hang you after my daughter kills me?’

  Earlier, when the carriage had drawn up to the entrance of Yoala Fe’s massive estate, they had been greeted by the First Queen’s youngest daughter. The Third Princess, Yoala Fe, had opened the carriage door with her own hands – hands that were bare of all jewellery, as were her wrists and arms. Only her hair held any adornment: the long darkness of it had been wound around the crown of her head and threaded with gold and copper. Following such simple fashion, Yoala wore a plain but elegant gown of yellow and orange that, despite its flattering cut, did not hide the age that had crept onto her since Bueralan had last seen her. The years had stripped away much of her youthful beauty, leaving a hardness about her as she approached middle age – a hardness that greeted him not just when her dark eyes met his as he emerged from the darkness of the carriage, but when two brown-skinned men who stood behind her crossed their arms, their thick copper bracelets sounding like swords clashing.

  ‘They might let me live,’ Bueralan said, ‘once I said I had some remorse.’

  ‘Saan warriors with that many bracelets do not recognize remorse.’

  ‘With that many bracelets, they are not usually guards. They’re soldiers, veterans of the wars of the Saan. You only get a piece of copper after you’ve proved yourself against another Saan. For most, it comes after you kill another in single combat. With their small populations, the Saan do not go to war like us. They choose representatives and those representatives are here.’ Over the wooden railing of the balcony, he could see the long poles that punctuated the estate, and the flames that pushed back the dark. ‘I enjoyed our carriage ride. It is a better memory than any I have of the Hundredth Prince.’

  ‘Such flattery.’

  He smiled.

  ‘I remember him only vaguely, but I like to think that I am very much different to Jehinar Meih.’ The First Queen’s light hands lay in her lap apart, as if betw
een her fingers was the memory of a shape she had once loved. ‘I did not, for one, change my last name to mirror Aelyn Meah’s. He was such a fool, he believed that it gave him some claim to power. I told him once that a name did not give one the right to rule, but the womb did. The right womb.’

  ‘He often quoted that.’

  ‘I said it in jest, but it has proven true.’

  ‘I have found it so.’ Further out, Bueralan saw one of the flames go out. ‘It has made poorer rulers than better ones in my experience, but Jehinar would not have been better than you. Perhaps in my youth, I would have been better if I had seen the world before I met him, and not after.’

  ‘You were like so many of the young,’ the First Queen said quietly. ‘You wanted your change then, not later. You could not wait for the glacial slowness of our people to reach the corner you had already turned. Had you been older, you probably would have died in Illate. But you were not, and so you had the Prince.’

  ‘I do not think now that Jehinar would have ended the trade.’ Zean had always said that, but it was not until after he had saved Bueralan and the Hundredth Prince that Bueralan had seen the truth in his words. ‘At least you are turning.’

  ‘Your mother would enjoy your cynicism.’ A man’s shadow emerged on the road, making his way towards the dead light. ‘I would like to tell you that I forgave you because of her, but that is not entirely true. If Samuel Orlan had not stepped out to speak for you, I would have used her memory to justify your return, but the truth is, Bueralan, what you have returned to do is of great help to me in turning that corner. It was not what I expected, and I hope for your sake it is not a lie that has been chained around your neck, but even should it be, your blood brother would be proud of what it will accomplish.’