by Kate Elliott
The old bitch counted her temple and her authority higher than any cursed thing in the Hundred, that was obvious. But when she looked at the captain, she raised a hand, wristlet bells tinkling like whispers, and touched ear and forehead to show respect.
“Captain Anji, your actions in recent days saved Olossi, and this temple. You’ve earned the right to speak. Kass, pour wine around.”
The lad poured gracefully from a silver pitcher into goblets adorned with intricate silver patterns and tiny pearls: the Hieros first, of course, then the reeve who as marshal of Argent Hall deserved special respect, then Master Calon, then the captain followed by Tohon. Zubaidit and the two attendants were served last, and the lad took the pitcher away without offering Kesh anything.
They drank. Tohon nudged Kesh. The pressure jarred his aching shoulder. He hissed pain through his teeth. Tohon tapped the cup, still half full of wine, against Kesh’s arm. Gratefully, Kesh took the cup and drank.
Anji set down his own cup on the floor beside his right knee. “I’ll make short work of my accounting of events. Our company rode into the Hundred as guards for a caravan, but we were also looking for a place to settle and begin a new life.”
“Because there is a succession dispute in the Sirniakan Empire,” said the Hieros. “The current emperor, Farazadihosh, considers you a rival because you are his half brother, sons of the same father, Emperor Farutanihosh, now deceased. Meanwhile, his cousins—who are also your cousins, the sons of your father’s younger brother—dispute Farazadihosh’s right to the imperial throne and title.”
“You have good sources of information, holy one.”
“I do. It may be that your relation to the imperial court will cause trouble for us later, but for now I am content with matters as they stand because I do not see we have any choice. Go on.”
“The Hundred is no longer a peaceful land, that we can all agree on. There is trouble in the north. A city called High Haldia has fallen to an army commanded possibly by a man known as Lord Radas. Toskala and the lands of lower Haldia lie under immediate threat. The commander of all the reeve halls sits in authority in Toskala, and there also many of your ancient traditions have their heart, although I understand that the largest city in the Hundred is called Nessumara and lies farther south, on the delta of the River Istri.”
“You’ve grasped a great deal of the Hundred in your short time among us, Captain.”
“I have good sources of information,” he said with a smile. Was he sparring with the Hieros, or dancing to her chant? It was hard to tell. “A second army marched south and west on West Track to attack Olossi. Too late the people of Olossi discovered that some among the Greater Houses had made a pact with this army, to consolidate their hold on the Olossi council. Too late, these same members of the Greater Houses discovered that the leaders of this army had no intention of honoring that pact but meant to burn and pillage Olossi as they did the villages lying along West Track. Together with Marshal Joss and the reeves of Clan Hall and the support of Olossi’s new ruling council and their militia, my troop managed to rout the besiegers. We then pursued those who fled, and have killed as many we can. However, many have escaped back into the north and east whence they came. It is obvious to me, and I hope to everyone, that if they could attempt this attack once, they can regroup and try again. They have numbers, coin, wagons, weapons, and horses in plenty. And it seems to me that they have something more difficult to defend against, some manner of sorcery.”
He picked up his cup and drained it, set it down with a thap that made Kesh start. “I have come to the Hundred to make a home for myself in a place where I may know peace, and to raise children with my wife. That is all I hope for.”
“Where is your wife?” asked the Hieros. “I have heard many speak of her, but she has not come to the temple.”
“Nor will she.”
“Ooosh!” murmured Kesh.
The reeve coughed, while Master Calon gasped at the implied insult.
The Hieros pounced. “Why is that? Here today you are come to the temple.”
Captain Anji opened his mouth to speak, and then he closed it and said nothing.
Marshal Joss said, “Surely an outlander who worships another god is not expected to visit the temples of the Hundred.”
“What gods does your wife worship, Captain? Surely not the god of the empire, for that god does not look kindly upon women. Or so my sources tell me.”
His mouth twisted in annoyance. He picked up the cup, noted it was empty, and set it down again, but now his expression was neutral and his voice smooth. “The Lord of Lords and King of Kings rules each person as befits his nature, men according to what is proper to men and women according to what is proper to women. But you are right. My wife is not of the empire. She prays to the Merciful One, whose mercy is known all along the Golden Road and past the southern desert even into the lands beyond the Sky Pass and the towering heights of the Heavenly Mountains.”
“Ah,” said the Hieros. “The orange priests. There’s an old hut far up on the Kandaran Pass where an orange priest once lived with his begging bowl. It’s said he would give aid to travelers without regard to their station or their gods. Then he died. Gone altogether beyond, as they say in their prayers. Such a strange phrase, ‘gone altogether beyond.’ What does it even mean?” She was still holding her cup. She handed it to an attendant, her wristlet bells chiming softly with the movement. “So, Captain, it is true that a shadow has grown in the north, a shadow we cannot name. By your efforts and those of the reeves of Clan Hall, many of us were saved. Yet this war is not over.”
“It is assuredly not over.”
He had a whip, which he’d been allowed to keep on the temple grounds. He played with it now, pulling its length through a hand as he considered what he meant to say. At length, he turned an inquiring gaze on Master Calon.
Briskly, Calon said, “I am here as representative of Olossi’s ruling council. This man has accepted as a temporary measure the responsibility to oversee the defense of the city and the surrounding region of Olo’osson. We ask for your cooperation and the cooperation of all the local temples in our efforts to live in peace in our own homes.”
Now Kesh understood. In the region of Olo’osson, long overseen by the town of Olossi, the Greater Houses had ruled until the battle two weeks ago, when a cabal of Olossi merchants and guildsman, a troop of outlander mercenaries, and that cursed reeve from the north had defeated the invading army and overthrown the Greater Houses. The Hieros was the most powerful temple official of any of the temples in Olo’osson. Joss represented the reeves, Anji the militia, and Master Calon the Olossi council. The four of them met now to decide what action they would take next.
So much for the vaunted council of Olossi, with its warring factions and voting members and raucous assemblies! So much for village elders and local authorities and temple priests. Here Kesh sat, witnessing the only council that mattered. He was here by accident, because he was a bit of flotsam that the Hieros wanted to sweep up, being the kind of person who didn’t forgive anyone who defeated her in even the smallest way. Yet as long as they didn’t kill him, he could find a way to exchange knowledge for coin or something even better: freedom and the right to be let go without interference. They hadn’t beaten him yet.
“When I make a plan,” Anji said, “I prefer to know as much about my enemy as possible. I have heard the Tale of the Guardians, but surely there is more you can tell me about the Guardians.”
“The gods formed the Guardians out of the land to serve justice. The gods sustained them as they went about this duty. Yet they vanished from the Hundred when my grandmother was a girl, so we had come to believe they were gone forever.”
“Anyone may claim to be a Guardian,” said Joss suddenly, “and maybe they are, and maybe they aren’t.”
The Hieros turned her proud gaze on the reeve, making him glance away before he had the courage to meet that stare. “ ‘You will know the Guardians when yo
u meet them,’ ” she quoted. “Can you doubt it, Marshal Joss? Do you doubt it?”
He said nothing.
She said, “I do not doubt, nor should you. I have seen the truth with my own eyes. I have touched the truth in my heart. The envoy told me that there is war among the Guardians. Fear this, for even as he spoke the words, I knew them to be true in my heart and in my spirit. Where the Guardians war, the Hundred falls into darkness and chaos. The tide of that war has swept over us once. If we do not resist it, protect ourselves, and push back, we will drown.”
“What you’re saying, holy one,” said the captain, “is that in truth you know very little about the enemy we face.”
“Captain,” murmured the reeve warningly.
Master Calon fluttered a nervous gesture with a hand.
The Hieros smiled coldly. “That is indeed what I am saying. The Guardians withdrew from the affairs of ordinary men many rounds of years ago. We who are mortal were never privy to Guardian councils in any case. Now their wars have spilled over the land, but we are as ignorant of their plans and feuds and their network of influence—always hidden from us!—as are newly born infants just waking to the riot of life.”
“Ignorance will kill us,” said the captain.
“Yes.”
He nodded. “This is my proposal. We send scouts into the north.”
“To what end? The reeves already spy out the northern army, scout troop movements, mark which villages and towns are under threat, and report back.”
“They do their work well,” he agreed, nodding at Joss, “but they and their eagles are targets when on the ground. They cannot walk into the heart of the enemy and hope to learn their plans.”
“Any such venture is likely to end in death,” she said.
“Perhaps. But without good intelligence, and careful observation of the lay of the land and the discipline and organization of the army, we can’t hope to confront, much less defeat, a force so much larger than our own. Tohon is a scout of unsurpassed excellence, whose observations I would trust with my life. He can bring one of his own men to carry a message back to us, if necessary. If I had my way, your servant Zubaidit would go as well. We must seek every opportunity that offers itself. If anyone can assassinate the army’s commander, she can.”
Kesh gasped aloud. He hadn’t finished the wine; it spilled now, the dregs staining his tunic. Tohon grasped his wrist and tightened his grip until Kesh sank back passively. But he’d already lost the battle. A grin tugged at Bai’s lips. Her shoulders straightened, and her chin rose.
“Eiya!” said the old bitch. “You’re quick to throw my best weapon into the worst battle.”
“The battle will be upon us whether we wish it or not, holy one. The only question is, on our terms or theirs? You know she is the best choice.”
She knew it, so she refused to acknowledge him.
Bai said, “I’ll go, but on condition that Keshad is cleared of all charges against him.”
“Yes, indeed,” said the Hieros scathingly, “cleared of charges, let to go free, and you’ll hare off and join him once you’ve walked out of Olo’osson, no doubt.”
“He can remain under house arrest under my guard until Zubaidit returns, or her death is confirmed,” said the captain.
“Do you think you’re bargaining over a loaf of bread or a bolt of silk?” demanded Kesh. “I refuse—”
“Enough!” said Marshal Joss. “Shut your mouth, you self-regarding idiot! You’ve got no rights in this negotiation. If you’re fortunate, you may benefit from it, so just be quiet.”
“You’ve got no call to talk my brother that way!” cried Bai.
“You’ve come to me to set the seal on your plan?” asked the Hieros of the captain.
“You stand highest among those who sit in authority over the temples of Olo’osson,” said the captain. “You know it must be done this way.”
“ ‘A sharp blade can cut both ways,’ ” she said.
“I beg your pardon?” demanded Joss. “What has the Tale of Change to do with the matter at hand?”
“Do our weapons serve us well, or ill?” Raising both hands, she traced phrases from the tale with graceful gestures accompanied by the tinkling of her wristlets. She did not need to sing the chant, for they all knew the words by heart. In he rode, the one meant to save them, the handsome one, with his sash and his kilt, his sash and his kilt and his garland of sunbright. But the gods embrace silence. The gods turn away, they avert their eyes.
“This is not a language I understand,” said the captain.
“No,” agreed the Hieros. “You are an outlander. It is the language of our heart, we who live in the Hundred. Very well. It is true that if we cut off the head of the snake, the body might die. The price Zubaidit names for her cooperation is not too high. I will consult with the other temples and we will choose a second candidate as well, someone suitable for spying. What about the council, Master Calon?”
“I think it’s a fool’s errand,” said Master Calon with a heavy sigh, “tried once before and ending in utter failure. But my voice was overruled. The council wishes to make contact with clan members in the north, restore alliances, and so on. Three have been chosen to go, well-connected sons and nephews, alas. That cub Eliar pushed and pushed.”
“The Ri Amarah wish to send one of their young men as part of the scouting group?” asked the Hieros. “To see what profits can be reaped?”
Kesh snorted. “In what way are they different than the rest of the merchants, then?”
The captain said, quietly, “The lives of the Ri Amarah are at risk, just as ours are.”
“The presence of a Ri Amarah man would give away the scouts immediately,” said Joss.
Calon raised his hands to signal a stop. “The cub’s father forbade it before I was forced to point out that a Silver would be spotted a mey away. The three men we’re sending are at least good fighters. However, anyone seeing the Qin soldiers will know them at once for out-landers.”
“They’ll pose as runaway slaves,” said the captain.
Kesh touched the raggedly healed scar beside his left eye.
The marshal said, “Will you tattoo them? That’s how debt slaves are marked here. The enemy will have heard tales about the outlanders who aided Olossi. They’ll be suspicious.”
“I’ll take Shai,” said Tohon, “for he looks nothing like the Qin. No one need know we are any relation. Anyway, Shai has family business up by this town called Horn. Captain?”
At first, the captain looked ready to refuse, but then his expression changed as he thought of something he did not share with the others. “Yes,” he said with narrowed eyes. “Shai might prove very valuable. But let me tell my wife that he’s to go.”
“We are agreed, then.” The Hieros clapped her hands. Her attendants helped her stand, although Kesh doubted she needed the aid. For such an old woman she was limber and vital, perfectly at ease. Before she stepped off the pavilion, she turned back. “So, Captain, what does your wife do now, while you sit in the councils of power?”
“She is not absent from the councils of power. Her skills are of a different constitution than mine. I would suppose that right now she is settling matters of land, title, and business.”
“Ah.” She acknowledged Master Calon and Marshal Joss with a nod and Bai with a critical stare that, strangely, softened her eyes. Kesh might as well not have existed, but at length she smiled at Tohon.
“Hu!” He laughed. “Don’t mind if I do. Captain?”
The captain nodded. As Tohon followed the Hieros into the garden, Anji caught Kesh’s attention with his gaze. “You’ll come with me,” he said, no argument about it.
Kesh looked helplessly at Bai, but she shrugged. The hells! She was already thinking about walking into the shadows. Walking into death, it might as well be. He’d bought her freedom with tainted goods, and now they’d been thrown back into slavery, as if the simple act of daring to grab for freedom had cursed them to worse than
what had come before.
She’d be dead and he . . . It hit him as in the gut, a blow that made him double over with fear and grief. He’d be alone, without purpose, for that was all that had sustained him during the twelve years he’d labored as Feden’s debt slave: the hope of freeing his beloved younger sister.
“Kesh?” Leaping up, she crossed to kneel beside him. “Is it something you ate? The old bitch didn’t even offer you wine, just for the spite of it!” Her hand warmed Kesh’s shoulder.
“I’m all right.” He forced his fear under control like a hand pressing billowing cloth back into an open chest in a high wind. “Do you have to go?”
“Of course I have to go.”
“You’re just going to abandon me? And the ginnies, too?”
“They can’t come on such a mission. They’ll be well taken care of.” She turned to confront the captain. “He’ll be well taken care of, Captain. That’s what I expect.” She swiveled her head to glare at the reeve. “All the charges dropped, just as I said, Marshal. Is it agreed?”
She was a wolf, ready to lunge for the kill, but they were predators, too. Joss was a proud, handsome eagle. Folk had started calling the Qin soldiers “the black wolves” for their manner of dress, and even though Captain Anji had not been born in the Year of the Wolf as Bai had, he might easily be mistaken for that beast.
Anji’s smile showed teeth, a threat. “Are you questioning my honesty, or my honor?”
She grinned the reckless grin Kesh had come to distrust. “You’re still an outlander, Captain Anji. So we’ll see.”
Anger burned in his expression, a tightening of the eyes.
“I expect to be judged in the same manner,” she added. “Yet you’ve held a hostage for my honor.”