Kei's Gift

by Ann Somerville

  “Your soldiers will not rot, your highness,” Lord Peika said. “We have treated them with great care. We regret those who have died in battle, but not a single soldier has been lost through illness or neglect. I’m rather proud of that.”

  Kita looked less than impressed, but kept her views to herself. “We will not give up those territories.”

  “Your highness, once again, you have very little choice in the matter. We could remove every soldier and Prijian citizen from there in a matter of days. However, we do not wish to be at war with your people. We wish, instead, to offer a number of tangible reasons why such a withdrawal would be of considerable benefit to both sides.”

  “Go on,” she said.

  “We want the soldiers removed, but we have no wish to deprive your honest citizens of the homes they have held for twenty years. Nor do we wish to unfairly tax or oppress them. We propose that in exchange for south Darshian being returned to our control, we will take on the cost of defending and administering that territory, and we will re-open Kurlik Pass and the other trade routes. Furthermore—”

  “Re-open Kurlik Pass? You’re insane,” Kizus snapped.

  Arman sighed and turned to Jera. “There’s a statue up on the hill behind us—big, white marble thing. Bring it down so we can see it, will you?”

  There was a great screeching of rocks being scraped against each other, then soil and pebbles rained down the hill as a dark shadow fell across the viewing platform. The statue of Lord Niko was approximately fifteen times the size of the one Reis had used to demonstrate his powers to Arman, and yet Arman knew it was well within Jera’s ability to move. People screamed helplessly, still held in their seats, as the huge object descended towards the stage, its base nearly as big as the entire semi-circle. Jera left it hovering above the stage as he turned nonchalantly to Arman. “How big are the rocks in Kurlik Pass again?”

  Arman passed his question on to Kizus, who was staring bug-eyed at the statue. His question went unanswered, so he turned back to Jera. “I think we can assume they’re not as big as this,” he assured him solemnly.

  “Oh well then, there’s no problem. Shall I put it away?”

  “If you would.” Arman turned to the senator as the statue rose in the air again, and was floated back to its original position high above them. “Do you still think it insane?”

  “I....” Kizus turned to Kita. “Your highness,” he muttered. “We have no answer to this.”

  Kita, too, was utterly taken aback by Jera’s action, but she collected herself. “What do we care if Kurlik Pass is opened or not?”

  “Your people are traders and farmers too, are they not? Sea routes are all very well but in the storm seasons, you need a reliable land route too, not just to us, but to trade with the Andonese. I know you’ve lacked just such a route since the pass was closed. You need a northern harbour port, and I also know the Andonese have recently closed off all access to their docks and trade routes. The Andonese and the Darshianese are allies, your highness. I am authorised to tell you that such access and their routes will be reopened if you agree to our conditions. You would of course be able to trade freely with north Darshian as well.”

  She stared at Lord Peika as Arman translated his words. “We have other options,” she said dismissively. “We have no need of your trade routes. We control other markets.”

  “Indeed,” Lord Meki said coldly. “But if your ships are sunk, your harbours and docks destroyed and you are isolated by a trade embargo enforced not just by us but by the Andonese, how long will your overburdened island survive without the lifeblood of imports? Your choice, your highness, is to live in cooperation with your neighbours who only seek peace—or to starve to death. We will no longer allow a rogue nation to dominate our peoples as you have done, like thugs and bullies, for the last twenty years.”

  Lord Peika gave the stunned sovereign a wide smile. “Your highness, if you can end this war in this way, you’ll be seen as the peacemaker of your people, the one who brought prosperity and opportunity to your land. And you can do it without a single death, without any destruction of property—and at very little financial cost, for what you lose in taxes from Darshian, you will gain in trade receipts and in the savings of maintaining a large and expensive military force.”

  Kita folded her hands. “I wish to speak to my senators in private. Remove yourselves, please.”

  The ‘please’ was significant, even if the Rulers didn’t realise it. “Certainly, your highness. Jera, take us up so I can see what’s happening in the harbour.”

  Jera obliged, and now Arman saw the battle was dying off. Colonel Jiv, if you want to bring your troops up to the amphitheatre, I think you’ll shortly be receiving hostages to take under control. Neka, what’s that little rodent doing?

  He’s given orders, no messing about either. They’re rounding people up in some kind of vehicle—a ‘calash’?

  Yes, that’s right. Good. Reis, be on standby to transfer everyone when they get here. Are you and the others all right?

  We’re fine, Arman. Meda’s just hosing off a few people, and Kira and I have blown their boats away out of the harbour. There’s no fighting at all.

  Arman sighed with relief. So far, so good. “Do you think she’ll go for it?” Lord Meki said. “I really don’t want to have to put a cordon around this damn island.”

  “I can’t tell yet, my lord. We’re getting the hostages back. Any more than that is a bonus, as you know. The Prij have never suffered a serious defeat—at least, not in over a hundred years—but then they’ve hardly attempted to take over a nation so committed to peace before.”

  “She’s going to ask for you, isn’t she?” Lord Peika said. “But she’ll be disappointed,” he added with a grin. “Now the hostages are being returned, she hasn’t a single thing to hold over our heads.”

  “No. But let’s not be complacent, my lord. Mekus is a stupid man but a sadistic one, and he really has no limits on his behaviour. When your people are on the boat and safe, then we can be smug.”

  Lord Peika nodded. “How long do you think we’ll have to hang in the air like this? It’s damn undignified.”

  “Want to go on a tour instead?” Jera asked, raising his hand.

  “Er, no, Jera, please. We’ve alarmed the masses enough for one day,” Arman said. “Look—Reis is bringing the soldiers over.” Below them, soldiers and urs beasts floated from the ships and landed at the docks. Arman couldn’t see any signs of resistance from the Prijian military—Utuk was overstretched because of the siege, but he hadn’t expected such an easy victory. Jiv, watch your back. It’s suspiciously quiet.

  I think it’s all right, Arman. There are soldiers here but we’ve removed their weapons. Right now, they’re just standing here with their mouths hanging open. But we won’t be careless.

  The Darshianese troops were now marching along the esplanade up the hill to the amphitheatre. Neris pointed to the road that ran north from the shore. “Someone’s coming—is it our people?”

  At this height, it was hard to see. It could just be an ordinary calash, but with most of Utuk’s finest citizens sitting pinned to their seats, it was unlikely. Nor would most calashes have soldiers riding beside and behind them. And it was definitely heading for the amphitheatre. The Darshianese troops were nearly there too. Jiv, who’s that in the vehicle being drawn up now?

  There was silence while the vehicle was stopped and Darshianese soldiers conversed with the driver. It’s some of our people, Jiv reported and there was no missing the jubilation in his voice. Four, from Ai-Vinri.

  The four Darshianese with Arman grinned at him. “Jera, send them to the ship—coordinate with Reis,” Lord Meki ordered. “Four brought home,” he said with grim satisfaction.

  “And here come more,” Neris said. Sure enough, there were more calashes arriving. The one just emptied left, hopefully to pick up more hostages.

  It was amazing what the human mind could get used to, Arman thought. Here he
was, hundreds of feet in the air, casually directing events below him, while out to sea, people were flown back and forth like birds from the ships, and he wasn’t the least bit shocked by it. He felt rather sorry for the Utuk citizens watching all this. Some of them would probably have nightmares as a result.

  Lord Peika was keeping count—the hostages were coming back at an agonisingly slow rate, but they were up to twenty-three already. Below them, Kita and the senators were still locked in negotiations. Jiv, have you seen any soldiers with red plumes yet?

  The palace guard? No, we’re watching for them.

  “Jera, can you get Neris closer to our soldiers?”

  Jera nodded and floated Neris lower and outside the amphitheatre to hover over the Darshianese troops. Arman didn’t want him on the ground—but he would be a powerful deterrent if Mekus decided to use the palace guards against the Darshianese.

  Anxiously they waited as the hostage count grew in increments of three and four at a time. He judged they had waited like this for an hour or more, and whatever Neka said, he didn’t trust Mekus not to pull some idiotic trick.

  “Sixty-seven, eight—nine! That’s everyone. Get them out, Jera,” Lord Peika ordered. “Then get the troops back on their ships too—we don’t need them for this bit.”

  The transfers took another ten minutes or so, then Lord Meki looked at Arman. “I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of hanging up here. Shall we see if that blasted woman has seen sense?”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Jera took them back down to the platform, where Kita glared at them. “We do not yet require your presence,” she said frostily.

  “Unfortunately, your highness, we don’t have endless time,” Arman said, just as coldly.

  Lord Peika laid his hand on Arman’s arm. “Let’s not be impatient, general. I’m sure Her Serenity is using her famed wisdom to make a sound judgement in the matter.”

  Arman refrained from rolling his eyes at the flattery, while Kizus carefully translated everything Lord Peika said. Kita seemed a little mollified by the compliment. “These are grave matters. Not to be decided under duress,” she said. Arman thought he detected a slight note of appeal in her voice. This was a good sign. Even if she would never admit it, she could see who was really in charge.

  “Of course, your highness. We don’t wish to be rude, or to imply you should give them less than due consideration. Perhaps we could retire to a more...private venue, for further discussions.”

  There was a hasty, whispered conference. “Very well, Her Serenity invites you to the palace for talks,” Kizus reported.

  “But the traitor does not come,” Kita added, glaring at Arman. “We demand he is handed over immediately to be tried for his treason.”

  “I can’t allow that,” Lord Peika said politely. “For one thing, Arman is our translator. For another, we have granted him Darshianese citizenship, and I’m afraid I can’t hand over a fellow citizen to you. If he’s committed a crime, he’ll be tried in our courts.”

  Arman kept a carefully blank expression on his face. When did I become a Darshianese citizen?

  About half a minute ago, Lord Peika said, still smiling amiably. “You have your own people to assure you that he’s not deceiving you, or placing anyone in danger. It would be a...wise...and most appreciated gesture, if you were to forgive his assistance to our cause.”

  She continued to glare at Arman. “Our own cousin. How could you betray us?”

  “Forgive me, your highness, but I have tried to act in the best interests of the Prij.”

  “Our interests?” Kizus said sarcastically. “You bring an enemy force to subdue ours and you call that acting in our interests?”

  “Yes, senator, I do. You’ve seen what power the Darshianese have, and the Andonese are their allies. Already the siege has cost us hundreds of lives, and more funds than we can easily spare. When I reached Darshek, I realised the war was not only unjust, it was one we could never win. We’ve gained nothing for this—I wanted to see the Prij get some benefit, rather than suffer an ignominious failure which would have brought shame on our nation and on your person. It is my belief this day will be seen not as a surrender, but the start of a glorious period for the Prij.”

  “You think you are wiser than we are, Arman?” Kita snapped. “To make such decisions?”

  “Your highness, I was in a position where I had to decide for myself. I wanted all the people of both sides of this conflict to return safely to their homes,” he added, playing shamelessly to the waiting crowd. Always a good idea to remind them they were now the ones who’d had hostages taken from their homes.

  More hasty, whispered discussions. “Very well. We are a merciful sovereign, and since you have served us well before this, and it seems you have acted in good faith, although with a total disregard for our authority, you shall be spared our wrath. But it would be wise for you to remove yourself to your adopted home along with your fellows. Naturally, you lose your position, and you will no longer be a Prijian subject, though it pains me to say it.”

  Arman bowed low. “It pains me to hear it, but I thank you for your mercy.” Which was less mercy than recognising she had no choice, but Kita always excelled at portraying herself in the best possible light to the masses.

  Kita stood and Arman bowed again, feeling almost giddy with relief. Was this all going to work?

  “Your highness, would you care to try our Darshianese transport?” Lord Peika said, offering his arm as Arman translated.

  She hesitated—and then took his arm. “Senator Kizus, attend us.” She named five others to come with her, and then told the rest to go to the palace by more normal means. “Are you going to set our people free now?”

  “Yes, your highness. Of course. Jera?”

  At once, the audience began to move about freely, and it was clear most of them wanted nothing but to get out of the amphitheatre as quickly as possible. “We wish to address them,” Kita ordered. “Perform that trick again, so I may do so.”

  “Speak when you’re ready, your highness,” Arman said.

  She turned to the crowd. “People of Utuk, we will be continuing our conversation with the representatives from Darshian at the palace.” The audience stopped moving, and looked up at the platform. “Your sovereign and your senate remain unharmed and continue to rule this nation. We order you to return to your homes and carry on as normal. Any civil unrest or disobedience will be dealt with as usual. This goes for the Darshianese as well—we will not tolerate lawlessness,” she added, turning to the Rulers.

  “Of course not, your highness,” Lord Peika said, as if she had the slightest hope of enforcing her bold words. Now they had the main part of their demand, he could afford to be gracious. “Shall we go?”

  She lifted her head. “Yes, you may do so,” she said imperiously.

  The palace was about a mile away and should have taken only a couple of minutes to reach, but Lord Peika instructed Jera to take his time as Arman showed Kita what her city looked like from above. Two of the senators looked about ready to puke, Kizus was impassive—but Kita was delighted as Arman had rarely seen her, and demanded to be allowed to see the palace and gardens from a series of angles.

  Her curiosity was quite poorly timed—but that was often the case with Kita. It was her worst failing, other than her viciously cruel streak, of course.

  At last they were landed at the back of the palace in the gardens, just near the large doors which led into the private offices. Jera bowed low. “I hope you enjoyed that, your highness.”

  She looked rather flushed and excited. “We did, and would like to do it again once we have finished today.”

  “Yes, your highness,” Jera said, giving Arman a sly wink. Jilki would have her for lunch.

  Yes, I know. Play along—she likes to be amused.

  Less amusing were the twenty or so guards who came rushing at them—Jera immobilised them on the spot. “Your highness? Would you advise them that we’re here
by your consent?”

  She waved at the guards impatiently. “It’s all right. We’re in no danger.”

  Jera released the guard, and they moved instinctively forward before coming to a halt and snapping to attention. “What are your orders concerning the Darshianese, your highness?”

  “Treat them as guests, of course,” she said. “And have someone send for the Lord Commander from Garok. Gentlemen, please do come inside so we can continue our discussions.”

  Kita was being gracious. This was not necessarily a good sign, Arman thought, as he followed his former sovereign into the palace.

  Chapter : Darshek 9

  Lord Peika finally asked for a halt in proceedings in the late afternoon, pleading a headache, but really to allow the Gifted, especially Neka, to rest. It was a good time to stop. Kita needed to consult with Blikus and the Senate in privacy, and the Lord Commander would not return from Garok until the following evening. Some agreements had been reached, tentatively, but they needed the approval of the full senate, and the fine details needed to be worked out and documents drawn up once that was done.

  Kita invited the Rulers to dinner at the palace the next night, which was readily agreed to, although an invitation to stay at the palace was politely refused. Arman had warned them Prijian hospitality, at least as interpreted by Kita, was not subject to the same unbreakable law as that of the Darshianese. It was certainly possible she would order the Rulers slaughtered in their sleep, and Jera and Neris could not guard them all the time.

  However, after Jera had given her another little flying excursion, and Neris had put on a show for all the attending senators, Kita declared the Darshianese, including Arman, could visit the city freely the following day, provided they did not engage in violent disorder. She even offered to arrange transport from the docks for any of them that needed it. Arman had to come back to settle his affairs—he would find out, he supposed, what Kita’s word was worth then. He would take an escort with him, just in case.

  Kita bid them farewell with all appearance of politeness, but Arman knew her well enough not to trust that any more than her hospitality. He was more heartened by the progress they’d made with men like Kizus, who’d accepted the inevitable, and had, indeed, reined in Kita’s tendency to get carried away with her own majesty. When she had begun to make a series of really quite outrageous demands, it was Kizus who had reminded her the Darshianese didn’t have to do a thing they didn’t want to, and that the Prij were in the position of requiring concessions, not making conditions.