Lakhoni

by Jared Garrett

  Then the plaza disappeared behind the shaven, hairy, tattooed, and cloth-covered heads of the citizens of Zyronilxa. Zello’s wagon led the way through rivers of people, down wide streets cutting between more blagros and finally to what appeared to be the east entrance to the city. The odors of food, garbage, people, and old fires gave way somewhat to a heavier odor: rotted fish guts.

  All in all, it had taken the caravan nearly an hour to travel from the north entrance to the east entrance of the capitol city.

  Lakhoni cleared his throat, “Do you know how big the city is?”

  “About a mile an’ a half long. Mile wide,” Regg said. He began making clicking noises to encourage Dara to keep moving as Zello and Hezeron’s wagons each came to a halt near some large, brick buildings. They looked like barracks, but their doors were much wider.

  Regg gestured to the wall of the building. “This’s gonna take some time. Best to stay out of t’way.”

  Lakhoni walked to the building’s wall and leaned back on it, sliding down into a crouch. Regg grabbed a bag of feed from the back of Paztar’s wagon and fastened it to the harness on Dara’s head. Several men joined the merchants from the caravan. While Regg tended to Dara, the men and the merchants argued loudly. Lakhoni caught the words “price” and “agreement” many times.

  Finally, nobody in the arguing group looking very happy, forearms were clasped and the merchants gestured at their wagons. Lakhoni pushed himself back up and followed Regg’s lead as the unloading began. Carrying four bricks, Lakhoni walked behind Regg and the other ox-tenders and the guards as they entered the building. It was a warehouse, and it had to be at least thirty paces long, twenty paces wide, and the height of three men. And it was almost completely full of stacks and stacks of bricks and roof tiles. There were narrow walkways for workers to navigate amongst the bricks, but there had to be enough brick in this building to construct an entire city.

  The unloading was heavy, sweaty work. After all of the walking he had done, Lakhoni didn’t notice any strain on his legs, but his chest and arms, as well as his lower back, were knotted tightly when the brick hauling was finally complete.

  “That’s got ‘er,” Regg said, dusting his hands off on his trousers.

  “What’s next?” Lakhoni asked, emerging from the dimness of the warehouse into a darkening city. The sun had gone behind the mountain range, and the light was failing fast.

  “Dye cakes,” Regg said. He showed Lakhoni a special palette just inside the warehouse and the two of them quickly unloaded the remaining red dye.

  This done, Lakhoni brushed his hands on his breeches and asked, “Now what?” He noticed the oxen had been led off somewhere and were now completely out of sight.

  “Nothing.”

  Taken aback, Lakhoni met Regg’s eyes. “So that’s it? We’re done?” His heart hammered in his chest. A nervous quiver in his stomach felt like a trapped bird.

  “Yep. Job’s over.”

  “What do the men do now?”

  “Go home, if they’ve got one. Others’ll find a place to eat, get clean, sleep. Tomorrow there’ll be more work.”

  “Maybe another caravan?”

  “S’right.”

  Lakhoni pondered for a moment, looking around at the foreign sights of the city. Despite the heavy, unpleasant smells, he was starving. And exhausted.

  And he worried that the worst smell assaulting his nose might be himself.

  “Where can I find food?” Lakhoni asked.

  “You got money?”

  A sinking feeling filled him. “No.”

  “Paztar’s done good here, you should talk to him,” Regg said, pointing to the merchant in blue. “He’s sometimes free with the coin and he’ll be payin’ most of us in a minute.”

  Lakhoni nodded and made his way to the merchant, who was just closing his heavy lock box with one hand and holding a jingling pouch with the other. Yed stood nearby, clearly keeping an eye out for anyone who might want to sneak some money from a wealthy merchant. Thinking back to the deal he made with the merchant, Lakhoni remembered that the deal was that he would do the cooking and be allowed to stay with the caravan until Zyronilxa. But he had helped with all of the unloading and loading too, surely that would help him convince Paztar to pay him something.

  The goat-faced merchant mumbled to Regg and Jeno, handing them a substantial pile of coins each. As Paztar did this, Yed and Razo hefted the heavy money box from Paztar’s wagon and three strange-looking wagons stopped next to the caravan. They were much smaller than the heavy wagon the oxen had been dragging. These wagons looked to be big enough for one passenger to sit on a cushioned seat that rode near to the ground, right on the axle of two tall wheels. The driver of the wagon sat on the creature to which the wagon was hitched. The animal looked like a llama, but was much wider than the llamas Lakhoni had seen pass through his village. The shoulders and haunches of the beast were rounded and muscled; its legs were much thicker than that of a llama too. Lakhoni stepped forward, trying to catch Paztar’s eye before he left. Finally the thickly browed face turned his way. “What is it boy?”

  Lakhoni thought fast. “I wanted to thank you for letting me join your caravan.”

  The eyebrows rose a little and Paztar nodded silently, turning to go and signaling Yed and Razo to follow.

  “Uh, Paztar?” Lakhoni said, one hand going out as if to stop the man.

  “Something else?” Paztar said, turning on his heel to glower at Lakhoni. “I am anxious to return home, boy. It has been a long journey.”

  “I don’t want to offend, but as I told you on the road, I have no family. I know nobody here.” Lakhoni let silence stretch. “I have nothing.” He forced himself to keep looking the man in the eyes, not wanting to seem anxious or unsure of himself. “But our deal was that I would cook, and I did more than that. Maybe you could help me get started here?” Duty, mercy, fair dealing . . . would these things convince Paztar?

  “You don’t lack for brashness, boy,” Paztar said.

  Lakhoni acknowledged that with a nod and remained in place, unsure of where to put his hands.

  “And your point is valid. I would be dishonest if I took your labor free of charge,” Paztar said. “But you did eat my food, too, and the deal was that you would cook and being able to join us would be your pay,” Paztar said, a small smile forming on his lips.

  Lakhoni waited.

  “However, the food you ate was not enough for the labor. I will pay you two ontis for your work, but will subtract the value of the food you ate,” Paztar said. He gestured to Yed and Razo to open the heavy box. Making a show of deep consideration, Paztar extracted several coins. Through it all, Lakhoni willed himself to stand quietly.

  “Here’s for your labor, boy,” Paztar said, dumping the coins into Lakhoni’s outstretched hands. That done, Paztar stepped through a swinging door that the wagon driver held open and sat down. Yed and Razo set the box on the floor of the small wagon. The wagon driver was already in place and he called to the beast. The animal trotted quickly away, swinging a sharp turn and pulling the small wagon back into the city, Yed and Razo jogging behind.

  Lakhoni sifted through the coins in his hand.

  “D’you even know what those are worth?” Regg asked.

  “No idea.” Lakhoni grinned Regg. “But it’s money, right?”

  “S’money. T’ain’t much.” Regg took one of the coins from Lakhoni’s hand. “This’s a senti. Four of them to an onti.”

  Lakhoni looked closer at his wealth. Each coin was made of a small wood disk that had a sphere of metal embedded in the center. The coin Regg had called a senti had dark wood. He had three of those.

  He held up a coin of which he had two. This one was made of a lighter-colored wood and had a smaller chunk of metal embedded in it. “What’s this one?”

  “Shilo. Four of ‘em to a senti.” Regg nodded. “Paztar done yer good.” He gestured for Lakhoni to follow him, handing back the senti he had taken. “You c’n get
a good meal an’ a clean bed fer a shilo.”

  Lakhoni looked at his money again, realizing he needed to put it somewhere out of sight. Three sentis and two shilos. Enough money for maybe ten days of food and sleep. He had to get more work. “Where do I go for food and a bed?” Hunger, like a small forest rodent, clawed at the inside of his stomach.

  “I’ll show ya a good place,” Regg said.

  Stuffing his coins into the bag over his shoulder, Lakhoni followed Regg. Tonight a meal and sleep. Tomorrow he would learn how to get to the king.

  Chapter 37

  The Taken

  Ree loitered anxiously in front of the stables after putting Titan away, waiting for Lina. She knew the servants would never ask about what her business was, but some of the guards would. Besides, she didn’t want to raise any suspicions. Aggie had shushed her every time she’d tried to ask what Lina had been crying over.

  Lina stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her bland, gray tunic. Ree briefly wondered what it would be like to have to wear such boring clothes. At least the female servants wore clothes! Most of the boys and men ran around in only loincloths. Ree squared her shoulders, stuck out her chin and approached the little servant woman. “Lina?”

  “Mistress?” Lina looked around quickly, as if expecting an attack. “Princess Ree?” She bowed her head four or five times in quick succession. “Is there something you need?”

  “I just want to talk to you. Follow me.” She led the way into the stables.

  In the speckled lighting of the stables, Ree turned to Lina. “I heard you talking to Agmoda. A while ago. About your brother?”

  Lina’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no, Mistress. It’s nothing.”

  “Lina,” Ree said, adopting her spoiled princess look. “I’d like you to tell me what you told Agmoda. I may be able to help.”

  Lina glanced around, as if worried that the horses would tell her secrets. Ree bit back a giggle at the thought of the animals nickering Lina’s secrets to each other. She wanted Lina to take the conversation seriously. “Tell me what you told Agmoda.”

  “Y-yes, Mistress.” Lina met Ree’s eyes then quickly looked away and spoke. “You see, it’s my brother, Mastopo. A few weeks—maybe a month or so—ago, he just up and disappeared. Mastopo, he’s never been right. Goes crazy, loves to chase girls.” Tears welled in Lina’s eyes. “But he’s my brother and he’s got a good heart.”

  “Did he run away?” Ree asked.

  “No,” Lina said, then shrank in on herself. “I mean, no, Mistress, I don’t think so. Mastopo wanders now and again, but not for this long.”

  “So somebody took him? Why?”

  “I don’t know. But you hear of young men disappearing sometimes.” Lina blotted her eyes with her sleeves. “People say it’s a demon on the loose. Some say it’s the Living Dead.”

  “And what is it?”

  “I don’t know, Mistress,” Lina said.

  “Isn’t the City Guard doing something about this?”

  Lina shrank more, eyes darting to each side.

  “Lina.” Ree gave the girl the look she always gave troublesome servants. “What about the City Guard?”

  “They do nothing.”

  “Why not?”

  Lina’s eyes darted quickly to Ree’s face, surprise evident in them. The servant girl looked away. “I . . . I don’t know how—” She stopped and fidgeted.

  “Lina?”

  “Begging your pardon, Mistress.” Lina met Ree’s eyes again. “But how would I know that?” She looked away and shuffled. “I just work in the kitchen.”

  It was a good point. “I will find out. Do you know anything else?”

  Lina shook her head.

  “You can go back to work now.”

  Lina scurried away, heading for the chicken coop.

  Ree wandered toward the temple, making for her room. Why are young men disappearing? It was possible her father knew about this, but so far she didn’t have more than one servant’s story. She needed to find out more.

  But she’d done too much snooping for one day. People might get suspicious. For now, she could gather her room servants to perform a story. Perhaps today she would tell them to do the Tale of the Seed and the Cow. Or maybe The Weeping Daughter. The boy who always played the role of Melno had a lovely smile.

  Chapter 38

  Brands

  The thought of actually catching a fish this time made Lakhoni tremble with anticipation. Days of rare, scavenged food had made his stomach feel like a massive, empty chasm.

  He ducked behind a huge pile of sailcloth with heavy rope on it to keep the ocean winds from blowing it away. He had learned the hard way the day before that the wharf guards were an irritable group. Lakhoni still didn’t understand why the guard yesterday had been so angry at Lakhoni trying to catch a fish from one of the pier arms. But the guard who had found him had yelled about trespassing and stealing. How would it be stealing to catch a fish from the huge ocean? Lakhoni had been forced to abandon his scavenged fishing line and hunger still gnawed at him.

  A trio of guards stomped past the pile of sailcloth, one of them carrying a thick clay bottle. When the guards were past, Lakhoni stayed low and scuttled from hiding place to hiding place, sticking to the left side of the vast pier and passing two huge slips, each of which could fit two large ships or multiple smaller vessels. He glanced at the dark water. There were fish in there, right?

  The wharf was shaped like a vast wooden sea serpent floating on top of the water. The main pier was the creature’s back and its jaw had clamped onto the eastern gate of the city. Three long legs extended from each side of the creature’s body, and an even longer tail protruded far into the bay on the east side of the city.

  Lakhoni finally reached the pier that jutted farthest into the bay. Scanning his surroundings carefully, Lakhoni leaned on a half-full cask of water whose top rim was a head taller than his seated form. He let his line drop into the water of the bay. He had made sure to tie an extra nail he had scrounged from a pile of scrap onto the line to help weigh it down. The tiny scrap of shiny red silk acted as bait.

  He would catch something tonight. Then he would find a fire and cook it and . . . his stomach rumbled. A week spent eating scrap bread tossed out by the few inns he had found and drinking straight from the canals had sapped his energy, making his nightly training sessions harder. He put his head back, reminding himself he could not go to sleep like last time.

  That first night with Regg felt so long ago, although only two weeks had passed. The good food, the soft, clean bed. In the morning he had found the courage to tell Regg that he needed to stay in the city, then had gone to scout the king’s compound.

  Lakhoni had found a place near to a man selling attractive trinkets from the top of what Lakhoni had taken to calling a rolling table. It wasn’t permitted to sell things in Victor Plaza, which was the name of the space in front of the temple, but vendors were allowed to ply their trade on the outskirts. So hundreds of people set up shop on the edge of the wide streets, each trying to be louder and gaudier than the others. Most people draped colorful silks and other cloths from their rolling tables to try to catch the attention of passers-by.

  Lakhoni had simply leaned against a building next to the man with the trinkets and had acted like he was working on his bag. In truth, he had been watching the gate on the far side of the plaza, the one through which it appeared anyone who wanted to enter or leave the compound had to go.

  As the day had passed, Lakhoni had seen that soldiers who wanted to enter the compound were allowed to pass through uninhibited. Servants performed a strange gesture, turning their left wrist to the guards on duty. After a few hours, Lakhoni had decided to get a better look, so he circled around to the north side of the plaza and strolled through the open space, casually walking near the gate. As he passed, two girls, wearing what looked like big canvas bags belted with fraying rope, appeared from the gate and turned south. Each of the girls carried an emp
ty, tightly-woven basket.

  His heart hammering, Lakhoni had dawdled until the girls came near. “You work for the king?” Lakhoni had asked.

  The nearest girl shot a surprised glance his way, but then ignored him. The other, whose hair and skin were darker, gave Lakhoni a longer, more penetrating look.

  “I’m just trying to find out if there is any way I can get work,” Lakhoni had said, ducking his head to try to allay any fears he had caused in the girls. They picked up their pace, but Lakhoni matched it. “Please,” he said. “Won’t you at least talk to me?”

  The darker girl huffed slightly, grabbed the other girl’s basket and stopped, facing Lakhoni. “Yes, we work for the king. But doesn’t everybody?”

  Chewing on that for a moment, Lakhoni said, “Of course. But I’ve heard it’s good work there. In the temple.”

  “I don’t know where you heard that,” the darker girl said, the nostrils on her narrow nose flaring. She was actually quite pretty, despite long, frazzled hair that was tied, like her dress, with a rope.

  “Just around,” Lakhoni said. In fact, the dark girl’s face reminded him of Simra’s, with her square chin and strong nose. But she didn’t have Simra’s eyes. “Please. Can’t you tell me how I can get work in there?”

  “Who are you,” the other girl chimed in. “How could you think working in the temple—”

  “Be silent, Ona,” the dark girl said. “There’s no getting work in the temple. You must have just come to the city, but you are better off finding work with a merchant.” She looked Lakhoni up and down, her eyes frankly assessing him. “Or a blacksmith.”

  The other girl, Ona, giggled.

  “Why?”

  “You don’t choose to work in the temple.” The girl turned partly, as if to go. “They choose you.”

  While she spoke, Lakhoni tried to unobtrusively get a look at her left forearm. He thought he saw a marking there. “How do they choose?”

  “You have a lot of questions,” the girl said. She bumped Ona with her basket, “Let’s go.”