The Deathless

by Peter Newman

  ‘Was that when you became thieves?’

  Ami looked like she was about to cry and Lan’s eyes had already welled up.

  ‘We ain’t thieves,’ he protested, ‘but we had to eat.’

  ‘I doubt House Sapphire will see it that way.’ Pari watched a fat tear track down Lan’s cheek. ‘But maybe they’ll reward you when you turn me in. Let’s say that’s true. Let’s say that House Sapphire elevates you both and you find employment in the High Lord’s castle. Do you think you’ll be safe?’

  They both looked at her then. ‘Wot?’

  ‘From me of course. Do you think I won’t find a way to destroy you?’ She paused to let that sink in. ‘It may take decades. It may be that you’ll enjoy most of your lives in peace. But know this: even if I was killed I would come back, younger and stronger, and I would find you. While I was between lives, House Tanzanite would investigate. I have a brother and an uncle who love me very much. They know I would never bring harm to Lord Rochant. In time they would learn what had happened.’ She paused again. ‘What do you think would happen to you then?’

  The two looked at the floor.

  ‘Ain’t got no choice,’ muttered Lan.

  ‘Then let me offer you one. You need a home and a new life. I need help. I am away from my lands, alone, and people are trying to tarnish my good name, the same people that are working against Lord Rochant. Serve me now, and I will bring you under Tanzanite protection. It will be dangerous but if we survive I will see you richly rewarded.’

  Ami looked at her brother, hopeful. He was looking at Pari, suspicious. ‘How can we trust you?’

  ‘I have little to give you save my word. But I, Lady Pari, Deathless child of the Tanzanite, will protect and guide you, so long as you protect and serve me.’

  Ami slid off the cart and took Lan’s hand. He gave her a nod and the two knelt before her. ‘I swear,’ they said together.

  ‘Good,’ she replied. ‘Now, did you see a cart, like this one only bigger. It was travelling fast, flying no flags.’

  ‘We saw it,’ said Lan. ‘Came flying past us it did. We was scared they’d come for us but it didn’t even slow.’

  ‘That’s the one! Would you know it if you saw it again?’

  ‘Reckon.’

  ‘My lady,’ added Ami.

  ‘It’s all right. We’ll be travelling in disguise for a while. Best you get used to not calling me that. Now,’ she said, slipping off her bonds, and settling in her nest. ‘I need to rest while we travel. Keep going as fast as you’re able. We’ll stop at every settlement and see if we can find news of this cart. It’s bound to have caught someone’s attention.’

  ‘But,’ said Lan, staring at her in shock, ‘you was free all the time …’

  ‘I wanted you to think I was helpless, and I wanted to know if I could trust you.’

  ‘You’re clever,’ said Ami, admiringly.

  ‘Ah, my sweet child,’ replied Pari, ‘you should see me on a good day.’

  As the cart started moving again, she thought about what she would do when she got her hands on Dil and whoever was pulling his strings. Now that will be a good day indeed.

  The servants whirled around him, making the tidy tidier, making artfulness of order, and scrubbing until what was already clean shone like the rising suns. Vasin stood and watched.

  He was the eye of calm at the centre of the storm. Except that inside he was anything but calm. He picked up a cushion to squeeze, lest he puncture his palms with his fingernails through clenching his hands so tightly.

  Does the High Lord know of our plans? Is he coming here to do to me what he did to mother?

  The small dose of Tack he had taken was running out, allowing his nerves to return with a vengeance. He found himself wishing he had something to do, something to distract him. But when Gada had said that he needed help to prepare, what he actually meant was that he needed his younger brother to smarten up and get out of the way.

  They had washed him and brushed his eyelids and lips with gold, wrapped his body in bands of silk, then wrapped that in a glittering cloak, clasped with sapphires at the shoulders.

  When his family arrived they would be dressed in a similar style, the oddities of their current bodies smoothed over to conceal with artifice the extremes of youth and old age, so they were neither one thing nor the other, timeless. It helped them ignore the shell, and focus on the Deathless spirit dwelling inside.

  Vasin had the dubious honour of being the youngest living member of his house. This meant that they had all been present at his birth and had either seen, or had reported, all of the embarrassments of his first life. No matter how many lifecycles, no matter his achievements, there was always a sense that he knew less, was less, than the others. How he hated that!

  And how, he realized, he hated them. Just the thought of having to endure so many of his family at the same time made him long to jump from the nearest window. I live for the honour of my house and yet I have no love for those that rule it. Even Gada’s company wearies me.

  There was Rochant of course, he had not witnessed Vasin’s childhood as the others had, but he wasn’t family, tied to them by crystal rather than blood. And soon, he won’t matter anyway.

  ‘My lord?’

  He blinked at the woman who had materialized in front of him. She looked familiar and yet he could not place her name. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Do you wish the trophy to be on display?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She gave a signal and a second servant, gloved, came forward bearing the severed arm of the Corpseman. ‘Where would you like it to be displayed? On the wall behind your seat perhaps? Then each time they look upon you, my lord, they will be reminded of your glory. Lord Gada suggested it might look well opposite the main doors, so that it is seen on entry.’

  Both ideas had appeal but he shook his head, slapping the table in front of him. ‘Put it here. I want them to appreciate its size.’ He sat back, pleased. Let them be close to it and imagine what it must have taken to stand before the Corpseman whole.

  ‘As you wish, my lord.’ She tried to hide her dismay but he saw it anyway.

  The armoured limb thunked as its weight connected with the tabletop and both servants winced, making Vasin laugh, though even to him, it sounded nervous.

  It had been a long day. Despite the worsening weather, they had made good time, Ami and Lan taking turns to push, so that they rarely had to stop. When they passed a settlement, the drill was simple: Lan would peel off alone to ask after their quarry, while Ami kept the cart moving. So far, the rain had meant they’d met few other travellers on the road, and when they had, the bedraggled souls were in a hurry, heads down, keeping chatter and questions to a happy minimum.

  ‘Will we get fancy food, y’know, after?’ asked Ami.

  Pari twisted round to answer. Ami’s eyes only just cleared the lip of the cart. They looked tired. ‘Oh yes. Tanzanite food is the finest there is.’

  ‘You ’ave to say that!’ she replied. ‘You are a Tanzanite! A Sapphire’d say the same about their food.’

  ‘Ah, but the difference is I’d be telling the truth because unlike most people, I’ve tried both. Sapphire cooks are excellent, but somewhat lacking in creativity. Lots of nonsense about not overwhelming the flavour of the vegetables. So yes, a cook who works for House Sapphire may do one or two dishes very well, but a Tanzanite cook will do hundreds.’

  ‘Hundreds?’

  ‘Yes. By serving me you’ll get to try them all.’

  Ami’s eyes sparkled at the thought. ‘Promise?’

  Pari chuckled. ‘Yes.’ From her vantage point she could make out Lan in the distance, sprinting back after them. ‘I don’t think much of your brother’s running style. Does he usually flick his legs out like that?’

  ‘Yeh. He’s always run funny.’

  She watched, enthralled by the inefficient motion as the young man drew level with the cart and heaved himself on. He lay on his back, chest pumpin
g up and down, trying to speak. ‘Went like … before,’ he gasped. ‘They saw ’em going past … plenty fast. Didn’t stop for … nothing … No flags but … they reckon they saw … uniforms … Under the cloaks.’

  ‘House Sapphire uniforms?’

  ‘Yep.’

  Pari turned her attention to the way they were going, peering into the hazy horizon. She could make out the lopsided form of Mount Ragged, black against the grey sky. If they kept going this way they would reach the castle of Lord Vasin Sapphire. Surely the assassins wouldn’t want to risk bringing Rochant there? But then, if they keep him in the cart, they could pass right through and nobody would ever know.

  In a way, it made sense. Any official search for Rochant would start at his castle and go outwards, expanding to include the local settlements and any caves near the Godroad. Nobody would think to look in another Sapphire Lord’s castle, and the assassins could move on at their leisure.

  But to where? It irked her that she had no idea who was behind the attack and what their goals were. No longer tired, her mind began to work relentlessly, considering what they might be doing to Rochant while she dawdled in their wake. She clung to the fact that they hadn’t killed him. It was clear that Dil wanted to, had planned to even. But with Satyendra still alive, they wouldn’t dare. Their plan had been to erase him entirely. So long as she could keep the baby safe, Rochant would be too.

  But why target him at all? Who would gain? That was what she needed to know. Clearly, it was personal with Dil, but when she’d been hiding in the Rebirthing Chamber, they’d spoken of another, one that would not be pleased with Satyendra’s escape. Who would this be?

  It had to be one of the Deathless. It had to be. But such an act risked war, threatening an accord that had endured since the end of the Unbroken Age.

  Eventually, the floating castle of Lord Vasin Sapphire came into view. In many ways it was a mirror of Rochant’s, the same hand behind all of the floating castles of the Deathless. And yet, the architect had made subtle differentiations, giving a distinct character to each one. There was a boldness to Vasin’s castle, the towers somewhat thicker, and the rock it sprouted from was blockier. Where the bottom of Rochant’s castle tapered down to a narrow point, the underside of Vasin’s was a rough flatness, studded with crystal barbs.

  Vasin’s flag flew from the ramparts, indicating that he was in residence, along with a second, smaller one. So, he has company, another Sapphire, I see. She squinted at it, impatiently waiting for them to get close enough to identify the heraldry.

  She was so deep in thought that at first she didn’t notice the distant shapes approaching along the Godroad on the other side of the castle. There were two dozen of them, like birds, save that they were too big, too perfectly blue, with static wings that scythed the rain, supported by the Godroad’s energies.

  ‘Hunters!’ exclaimed Lan, sounding boyish in his excitement.

  Ami was just as excited. ‘Lots and lots!’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Pari. ‘Lots and lots. And not just hunters either. See there?’ She pointed towards the lead flyer. ‘That is Yadavendra, High Lord of the Sapphire. And there–’ she pointed to another, skimming low and fast along the surface of the Godroad, the light fragmenting into rainbows between the ground and her wings ‘– is his daughter, Lady Yadva.’

  ‘I ain’t never seen so many flocking at once,’ said Lan.

  ‘It’s very rare,’ agreed Pari, her eyes widening as she caught sight of another entourage behind the first one. ‘And that must be Lord Umed.’

  ‘Must be hunting something mighty big,’ said Lan.

  ‘Are they hunting Wild ones?’ asked Ami.

  ‘Possibly,’ replied Pari absently.

  ‘A-are they hunting us?’

  ‘Probably.’ She became aware that Ami had stopped pushing the cart. ‘But not yet. This isn’t a hunting party.’ It’s a war party, she added to herself. ‘They’re gathering to talk about something important. And urgent too, otherwise the High Lord would have summoned the others to him, rather than travelling here himself.’

  Ami bit her lip. ‘Should we turn round?’

  ‘No, we go on.’

  ‘But we can’t!’

  Lan nodded in agreement.

  ‘How can we not?’ asked Pari. ‘The answers we seek are ahead of us, not behind. Lord Rochant is close and he needs my help. And I need your help. Do this for me and you will be rewarded. Do this for your children if you choose to have any, and they will grow up in my castle, as will their children. The risk involved is for the gain of generations.’

  There was a long pause, longer than Pari found comfortable, and then Ami started pushing the cart.

  Gada strode into the room. He looked Vasin up and down, satisfied with what he saw, if not impressed. His eyes flicked to the Corpseman’s arm, then back to Vasin, cloaked in a frown. ‘It is a time for delicacy, brother, not …’ He waved at the table. ‘This.’

  Vasin gritted his teeth, biting back a retort. If he could not remain calm around Gada, he would have no chance when the others arrived. ‘You wish me to have it moved?’

  ‘There’s no time. The High Lord will be here shortly. I will help where I can but you are host.’

  ‘I know. Any advice?’

  Gada’s frown lifted with relief. He settled himself at the table, his eyes on the door as he spoke, hushed. ‘You must not argue with the High Lord. And I beg you not to criticize or question him by word or reaction. Say nothing unless he asks you.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘We must let the fire of his anger wash over us without fuelling it further.’

  ‘Yes, I understand.’

  ‘Remember, humility does not burn, but—’

  Vasin’s fist came down on the table. ‘I said I understand, damn you!’

  Gada drew back, his mouth open in outrage, as the sound of marching footsteps began to echo in the outside corridor.

  They glared at each other before forcing themselves to turn towards the entranceway, smiles plastered over angry faces.

  The doors swung open, allowing his cousin Yadva to enter. Her body was young and powerful, muscles like bricks beneath her tight silks. Bulky, yes, but it was absorbed into her tall Sapphire frame. She was an able hunter, fearless, ruthless, and it was widely known that no tributes survived the hunts that Yadva led.

  He stood to clasp her arm, and was surprised to see her smile. ‘You put me to shame with your victory, little cousin.’

  ‘Not for long, I’m sure.’

  ‘Depend on that. When Father is finished with us, I want to hear the whole story. All the details.’

  Inwardly, he sighed. Yadva would be relentless in her questioning, and she would notice if any of the details did not fit. ‘Of course, it’s a story I will never tire of telling.’

  She clapped him on the shoulder with her other hand. ‘Nor will any of us. You’ve upheld Sapphire honour and heaped some much needed glory on us, too. Make it into a song and I’ll sing it at your next rebirth!’

  He couldn’t help but laugh at that. Strange, was he actually starting to like Yadva? ‘Done! I already have the Story-singers working on something, I’ll tell them to make it in your range.’

  She nodded to him and turned to Gada, her smile vanishing. ‘Big cousin.’

  ‘Lady Yadva,’ Gada replied. Neither touched the other, and Yadva sat down, her attention moving to the severed arm on the table.

  ‘Damn but I wish Father had sent me on that hunt,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve been hearing about the Corpseman since my second cycle. Can I touch it?’

  ‘Of course.’

  She ran her fingers over the plates. There was reverence there, but also curiosity. She’s looking for weak spots, he thought, remembering how he’d done the same when he’d brought it home. There was a slight flexibility in the natural armour, allowing it to move with the arm, minimizing openings and absorbing impacts. How his mother had managed to get in close enough to saw the thing of
f was beyond him.

  For a second time, the doors opened and his Uncle Umed entered. His body was seasoned, somewhere in its sixth decade, and lean, his dark hair grown long and tied high on the back of his head. A thick gold line was tattooed around half of his neck, curving into a claw that touched the bottom of his chin. Uncle Umed’s fourth lifecycle had ended in the Wild and he’d been reluctant to return there ever since, much to Yadva’s disgust.

  ‘Lord Vasin, I stand in your hall, Sapphire and bloodkin. May I be welcome? May I be seated?’

  ‘Of course, Lord Umed. You are family, sit, be at peace. My food is yours to share, my walls are yours for shelter, now and forevermore.’

  His answering nod was more relieved than anything else and he crossed the room slowly, making Vasin appreciate how far away Uncle Umed’s castle was and how fast he must have flown to be here. The two grasped arms, and Vasin felt the tremble in the other man’s body, felt the way he leaned against him for support.

  When Umed had greeted the others, they sat, an odd silence holding between them. It had been years since they had last been together, and it stirred memories of older, happier times, when his family were at peace. Never to be had again.

  Under normal circumstances Vasin would plunge himself in those memories, taking sanctuary there until his family had left again but the words of his mother were loud in his mind: ‘… you will have to find a way to persuade the High Lord … or replace him with another more sympathetic to our cause. Are there any that would support us?’

  He looked at his cousin and his uncle, trying to see beyond the paint, beyond the skin, beyond the bone, to the thoughts underneath. Are these allies sat in front of me, or enemies to be overcome?

  Their faces were masks and Vasin cursed himself for being absent during his mother’s exile. He had no idea how they had reacted to the High Lord’s judgement, nothing to guide him in how to approach them now. Gada would know more but he could not see how to question his suspicious brother without raising questions in return.

  I was not made for this, he thought, but then hot on its heels another thought came: Mother thinks I am. She chose me. Not Gada. Me. I have to be worthy of that choice.