The Three Lands Omnibus (2011 Edition)

by Dusk Peterson

  Lord Carle stood motionless; he was breathing heavily. He said, his words dropping like stones from a slingshot, "You are a fine one to talk to me of loyalty."

  My hand, which was resting on my dagger hilt, curled into a fist. "What do you mean by—?"

  "Enough," said the Chara.

  He was at the doorway; one of his hands had swept back the door, while the other was resting on the hilt of his sword. He stood in that stance for a moment, his cloak widened to twice its usual size, as he looked at both of us with the expression of the Chara in judgment.

  "Return here later," he told Lord Carle abruptly. Lord Carle bowed and left the room without a word. The Chara turned to close the door after the council lord, and when he turned back, his face had not changed.

  "You two," he said icily, "could be heard halfway to the Court of Judgment. As I walked down the corridor just now, the only servants who were not staring at me with scorn were those who were busy amusing themselves by listening to the Chara's free-servant pick a fight with a council lord. I did not need this today."

  He pulled at his cloak clasp, and then removed the cloak with one swift movement and threw it onto the fireside chair. His right hand came back to rest on the sword hilt.

  "I know that Lord Carle is a difficult man," he said, "but you do not make things easy for him. You are insolent toward him, in both words and looks, and on the occasions on which he has been courteous to you, like a soldier laying down his arms, you have repaid him with words as cruel as dagger-thrusts. I am tired of having to intervene on your behalf to keep Lord Carle from going to the court summoners and charging you with the crime of insulting a free-man. I am also tired of overhearing whispered jokes about how the Chara is Master of the Koretian Land but that he is not master of his own free-servant." The immobility of his face was matched by the coldness of his eyes. "Let me be clear, Andrew son of Gideon. From this moment, you are not to begin any conversation with Lord Carle unless I am present. I say this as the Chara. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Chara," I said woodenly.

  "Good. Then go change out of those clothes. And put away that dagger – you have not behaved today in a manner worthy of a free-man."

  He turned his back on me and strode over to his writing table, but I did not move. When the Chara reached the table he paused, took off his pendant slowly, and held it in his hand for a moment. He said quietly, without looking back, "I saw you in the balcony. Was it Henry's case that you were fighting about with Lord Carle?"

  "Yes."

  The Chara let the pendant fall into the box where he kept it. He stood looking at the ornament for a moment longer, then turned and leaned back against the table. His face had lost its frigid lines, and he said in a low voice, "You should have saved your quarrel for me. I will have to defend my decision to every free-servant in this palace. I may as well try out my defense on you."

  I stood as rigidly as I had before. With eyes lowered somewhat, I said, "It was a difficult case to judge."

  I barely caught sight of the flicker of anger in Peter's eyes as he said, "That is the sort of statement I would expect to hear from Lord Dean, not you. I did not make you my servant so that you could tell me the polite lies that I hear from everyone else. I want your honesty."

  I raised my eyes to match his. "I think that you were wrong in your judgment and wrong in your sentence and wrong in other matters as well."

  "Thank you," said Peter. He pulled off his sword, laid it gently on the desk beside the pendant, and allowed his hand to rest on it for a moment. His gaze drifted over to the great blade beside him, and then returned to me.

  "I would much rather have been Henry today, facing the high doom, than myself, placing him under the high doom," he said softly. "If it had been my decision, I would have let him go free. But the case was not decided by me but by the laws of Emor, which I am sworn to uphold. When I vowed not to show favor to any man, it was precisely this sort of trial that was meant. If I were to show favor to Henry because I liked him, then I would no longer be restricted by the law of this land, and it is the Chara's law that keeps Emor from dissolving into the civil war that nearly destroyed Koretia. I suppose that this is hard for you to understand, since you were not born Emorian."

  "You could have found Henry guilty of disobedience but sentenced him to mercy."

  "The sentencing is part of the law. I should have explained the law-structure to you long ago, for you can't understand my duties without it. I am bound as fast as a prisoner by what the law says I can do. I am as much a servant to the law as any of my subjects – if I were not, I would not be allowed to rule, and if there were no Chara to proclaim the ancient laws, then the laws would cease to exist. My main duty is to keep Emor alive through my judgments, and I cannot do this if my subjects believe that they can disobey me without penalty."

  "Lord Carle said something like that just now," I murmured.

  Peter picked the brooch up off of the desk and stared down at the royal emblem. "Contrary to your belief, Lord Carle does occasionally speak words that are true. One thing he has told me is that I do not discipline you enough. I would not want to imitate Lord Carle's methods of discipline, but perhaps you have so often seen me showing mercy that you forget I wear the Sword of Vengeance. Did you know that in ancient times one of the Chara's duties was to execute with his own hands those who were placed under the high doom? The Charas used this sword for that purpose. I thank the wisdom of the dead Charas that I am not required to carry out such a duty – customs do change in Emor, but the laws do not change, and one law is that those who willfully disobey the Chara's direct command must die."

  He had been leaning against the table in as relaxed a pose as before, but as his eyes met mine, I saw he knew that we were in a dagger-duel as dangerous as any I had attempted with Lord Carle. Since he realized this, I did not hesitate before asking my next question: "And what of the custom that the Chara may overrule the court summoners?"

  "Ah." Peter gave a somber smile as he pushed himself away from the table and went over to stand by the sitting chamber's southern window. He looked out for a moment, and the light breeze that seemed never to cease in Emor blew his hair over his eyes so that I could not see them.

  "I knew that it would come to that in the end," he said. "This is harder to explain, because it has nothing to do with my duties as the Chara; rather, it has to do with my frailties as a man. In the court today, my duty was clear, and I had no choice but to take vengeance against Henry. But I had the choice of whether to take vengeance against the subcaptain for the rape he had committed, and I chose to have mercy."

  He turned toward the window so that I could not see even his face. "It has been nine years now since I left the palace," he said quietly. "I would have had to leave the palace if there had been threat of a war, but no wars have occurred since I became Chara. I have never been in battle, but my father told me what it is like. He said that the worst moments come, not during the fighting itself, but in the nights before great battles, when the soldiers are forced to wait for hours, knowing that they may die the next day. My father said that many soldiers who have been brave during sword-battle desert their duties during that terrible waiting. I used to wonder whether I myself would some day betray Emor in such a way, for I have never had to face the possibility of death. That is why I find it so hard to condemn others to death, and that is why I am unwilling to punish soldiers who commit evil deeds during war."

  He looked back at me, and I supposed that he expected me to make some gentle reply to this confession of fear. But I could see framed behind him the black border mountains, and there came to me an image of fear and destruction beyond that which he had given me.

  I said bitterly, "And what mercy have you shown toward the girl who was raped? You said that you have never been a soldier – well, you have never been the victim of a soldier either. You have not been raped or killed or enslaved, or watched as your city was destroyed on the orders of the Chara."

 
Peter was still holding the emblem brooch. His fingers curled around it, not with vigor, but with tenderness, as though he were holding Emor itself in his palm. He said quietly, "I've never asked about your life in Koretia, Andrew, not even how it is that you came to be enslaved. I've heard you cry out in your sleep and guessed that that must be what you were dreaming about, but I did not believe that I had the right to question you. Since it is clear, though, that you blame the Chara for your enslavement, I think that I had better know what it is that you saw in that city when the Emorians attacked."

  I said, in a voice as icy as the Chara's had been some time before, "You mention my dream. I will tell you what it is that I cannot stop dreaming about. I dream of the day that I was enslaved, and of the soldier who enslaved me. That is not why I cry out. I cry out because the same soldier who enslaved me killed my blood brother John and raped and killed my mother. I cry out because the fire consumed my city soon after, so that even if I were to return there today, I would not be able to visit his ash-tomb."

  I failed to notice that the destruction in my mind had focussed itself on a single image. But when he spoke, Peter said, "I have heard of blood brothers but have never known what they are."

  "They are created by a blood vow to the gods, a vow between two Koretian friends who may some day be parted. Shortly before you and I first saw each other, John and I exchanged blood and swore to be loyal to each other beyond death and to uphold each other's vows. John swore to help bring peace to our land." I paused, making sure that my eyes were firmly centered on Peter's. "I swore to kill the Chara."

  When Peter spoke again, his voice was soft. "The Chara makes a vow to bring peace as well. My father believed that Emor could not have peace unless he attacked the Koretian capital. If I had had to judge the case myself, and if I had known what I know now – that the city would be destroyed, that all but a handful of its people would be enslaved or put to the sword, that your mother and blood brother would be killed and that you would be enslaved and gelded – if I had known all that, I would have given the same judgment as my father did."

  There was a silence. Peter's hand had closed more tightly around the emblem, but his gaze did not falter. I turned and left the Chara's quarters without a word.

  The Chara did not call me back. If he had, I would not have obeyed him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As the sun began to set that evening, I was sitting where I had been all afternoon, in the inner garden of the Chara's palace.

  Peter had once said that I must be a reincarnation of the man who named this location, because I shared that man's talent for understatement. The "garden" was a courtyard the size of a village. Peter often visited there since he was not allowed to go into the Emorian countryside. The garden had been fashioned to look like the country, with pastures and meadows and the stone walls that bound every Emorian field, but with no trees, since these are rare in Emor, though its northern dominions were heavily forested. I had come here with Peter on occasion, since I now avoided looking out of windows but was still seeking scenery that would return to me the peace of heart I had left behind in Koretia.

  I had never found that peace in the garden, nor anywhere else in the palace, save in the presence of Peter. Now, I knew, I would not even find it there.

  I sat in the corner of the garden, hidden by bushes from the lords and officials who had been drawn to this place by the golden summer sun. My eyes were closed, and my fingers ran over the emblem at the tip of my dagger hilt. I had always thought that Peter had given the dagger to me out of love, the sort of love that sometimes grows between a master and his servant. I had raged against Lord Carle because he had not shown such love to Henry, but I had never doubted that Peter felt that way toward me. Now, though, there whispered in my mind Peter's final words to me. Had he really given me my freedom out of love for his loyal subject? Or had he simply been the Chara, fulfilling his duty by selecting a servant whom he could use as an intermediary with his slaves? I had once said that Peter wore a mask; now I feared that he wore that mask even with me.

  I opened my eyes and saw that it was growing dark. The dinner hour had arrived, and as I stood up, I saw that the garden was now deserted but for two soldiers guarding a passageway running directly to the Chara's quarters.

  I did not head that way. I was not sure where I would go, but I could not face Peter while I was still unsure of what sort of man he was. Instead, I stepped onto the cobbled pavement bordering the garden and walked toward a doorway for another passage that eventually ended at the corridor leading to the Map Room. I could see the soldiers watching me and exchanging whispers. They must have been among those who had overheard my fight with Lord Carle.

  I was thinking this when I reached the doorway and nearly walked into Lord Carle.

  He was about to step out of the doorway from the narrow passage behind, and my first impression of him was that he looked like a weary veteran from the Border Wars, retreating after some great defeat. He had changed out of his ceremonial dress, and his hand touched his belt lightly, as though he missed the sword there. He stopped the moment that he saw me, and a wariness entered his eyes. He did not speak, but neither did he move, and I did not expect him to move, for we were face to face, and he was waiting for the servant to step out of the way of the council lord.

  I felt a sudden flicker of anger inside me, not only for his easy assumption of my inferiority, but also because he had been the cause of my quarrel with Peter.

  We stood a moment more as I waited for him to tell me to move away. And then – it was a sight that every servant in the palace would have paid good money to see – Lord Carle stepped aside in the doorway to allow me to pass.

  It was too late. The flicker of anger had grown into a cool blaze inside me, and I promptly moved to one side to block his way again. His lips tightened, but still he did not speak.

  "We did not finish our conversation, Lord Carle," I said with a false tone of calmness.

  Lord Carle was again silent. Then he said softly, "I do not think that you should be speaking to me."

  "I beg your pardon for addressing a council lord in such a bold manner," I said, "but as you have often told me, I have little respect for my superiors. This being the case, I demand that you explain why you said that I am disloyal to the Chara."

  Cold amusement entered into Lord Carle's eyes, though his mouth remained somber. "Loyalty is a subject I am now well acquainted with," he said, "since I have spent the past three hours with your master, listening to him explain what form he expects my loyalty to take. I must admit that I am surprised that you would pick these particular circumstances to defend to me your loyalty to the Chara. Nonetheless, since you have asked the question, I will answer it. I did not say that you were disloyal to the Chara – that is another question, for another day. What is beyond dispute is that you are a traitor to Koretia."

  He stepped past me then, and stood on the pavement beside me. I was paralyzed at his words. Further down, I could see that the soldiers, though too far away to hear our conversation, were entertained by our confrontation.

  I said, with a voice as cold as my body felt, "That should give you great joy, Lord Carle."

  "On the contrary, it lessens my respect for you. When we first met, you told me that you had made a blood vow to kill the Chara – I do not think that you have forgotten that vow, as the Chara told me a short while ago that you had revealed it to him for the first time. It is not clear to me why you felt the desire to mention this matter to him, since you are now the Chara's free-servant, are wearing the Emorian tunic he gave you, are not planning even a short trip to Koretia, and do not, as far as I know, have any plans to kill the Chara. If you were in fact contemplating some secret betrayal, I might regain the respect for you that I lost on the night when I discovered you chatting with the Chara as though he were your blood brother rather than your sworn enemy."

  Something rumbled inside me, like a small fire growing large, or a thundercloud in the moment
s before lightning strikes. I said, again calmly, "You will at least admit that, whatever my past loyalties, I am now loyal to the Chara."

  "I would like to think that you are. It would give me joy to think that you plan to dedicate your life to serving the Chara. Or, if this were not the case, it would at least give me some satisfaction to find that you have been secretly plotting to kill him and that you have always remained loyal to your Koretian brothers. But what I fear is that you are dedicated to no man but yourself – that you are a creature incapable of loyalty, enjoying a pleasant childhood in Koretia, and then being tempted away by the luxuries of Emor. That is not the sort of loyalty that the Chara needs." The scorn was unshielded in Lord Carle's voice now.

  I said, still keeping my voice low so that the soldiers could not hear me, "I swore an oath to be loyal to the Chara."

  "As you swore a vow to kill him. You will not need to answer to any imaginary Koretian gods for breaking your blood vow, but you will have to answer to the Chara if you betray him."