To Walk in the Way of Lions

by H. Leighton Dickson

  “Yes,” she shouted. “There it is! That’s it!”

  “The palanquin…” he muttered as he slid off onto the ground and reached a hand round to help her. “I saw that, in the pit, in Swisserland…”

  “Come on. We’ve lots of stuff inside…” And she danced off toward the vehicle, unaware that Kerris was not following, for he was looking up at the sky and the black clouds rolling in above their heads.

  “Oh, oh Kerris, look. Look at this…”

  With a deep breath, he turned in her direction. She was holding up a bolt of fabric that was on the hood of the Humlander, wrapped in a black leather cord. It smelled of incense.

  “This isn’t ours. We didn’t leave it here…”

  “That’s perfect,” he said softly, as he ran his fingers along the fabric. It was a dark gold, almost bronze, with elaborate embroidery along the edging. He looked up at her. “And we can use this cord instead of the rope…”

  “For what? What are you thinking?”

  “For Kirin,” he said. “A keffiyah. For his head.”

  “Oh! Yes! That’s perfect! Um, Kerris?”

  “Mmm?”

  “When did you last see Sherah?”

  He frowned at her. “Well, the same time you last saw her, I suppose. Under the pistachio tree. Why?”

  She stepped forward, plucking at his tunic. “Where did you get this?”

  “This? Oh, well, that was an angel. I was dying, and I fought a dog and cut off his head and she saved me. And gave me my life back, although why an angel would want to do that is beyond me.”

  She slipped her hand under the tunic, to the long line of stitches down his chest and belly. “And these? Do you remember how you got these?”

  “That same angel, I suppose.”

  “Do you remember what she looked like, this angel?”

  “Well, I was not quite dead yet, so no, I’m afraid I don’t. Say, do you think that same angel left this for Kirin? I did ask her to help him too…”

  Fallon stared at him. He couldn’t see it, couldn’t remember. Something was preventing the memory. But maybe, after all he had been through on this journey, it was a blessing.

  So with one last glance around to see if an angel or an Alchemist might slip out of the shadows, she opened the hatch to the Humlander and climbed on in.

  ***

  Mi-hahn began calling them before dawn.

  Ursa was beginning to regret her desire to be ‘left in’ with this new falcon. Her young voice was high, shrill and over-eager, and for some reason, it reminded her of the Scholar. They picked at the rest of the boar, pulled some scraps of innards for the falcon, and waited for the sun before rising to call her back.

  !!!Mi-hahn!!! Mi-hahn!! Sireth!! Ursa!! Happy! Joyous! Mi-hahn!!

  “She likes her name,” Ursa growled and lashed her very long tail from side to side.

  “Most falcons do,” said Sireth, and he turned his face to the sky, rolled a scrap of liver flesh in his palm a moment before hurling it up to the sun. A shadow swept down and snatched it mid-air.

  !!! Sireth Mi-hahn belly yum!!!

  “Do they all sound like this?”

  “She’s young, remember?” He rolled another piece of meat, tossed it high for her to catch. “Her vocabulary will improve. After all, it’s not many birds that can speak Imperial.”

  The Major grunted.

  “You try,” he said.

  She made a face, but reluctantly, rolled the flesh in her palm before hurling it like a spear far, far into the sunrise. Mi-hahn caught it easily.

  The Major grunted again.

  “Most of our falcons were born and hand-reared in Sha’Hadin,” he said. “I can’t remember a time when a wild falcon became companion to a Seer.”

  “You are not a normal Seer.”

  He smiled. “Of course, you are right.”

  With a deep breath, he held up his hand, palm sideways, fingers extended. “I wonder if she will land. It would be a good sign, if a little early.”

  “Just don’t set your mind on it. She might catch fire.”

  He laughed.

  They could hear the sound of a hurtling weight, like a stone from the sky, and even though he was wearing a blindfold, he clenched his eyes tight.

  !!!!Mi-hahn Sireth catch Mi-hahn!!!!

  And she swooped so swiftly over his hand, talons extended, leaving red ribbons along his finger.

  “Aiya!”

  !!! Mi-hahn surprise surprise!!!

  With a gasp, he grabbed at his hand, blood springing up from the ribbons. The Major shook her head

  “That’s why you wear gloves, idiot. I am going to find breakfast.”

  And suddenly, without warning, the falcon landed on his head. She began pulling at his hair with her dagger talons, jabbing his forehead with her hooked beak.

  !!!!surprise Mi-hahn surprise surprise!!!

  “Mi-hahn, no! No! Bad Mi-hahn! Bad!”

  She turned and walked away, leaving the student and the headmaster well alone.

  ***

  She realized after a while that, at some point, he had stopped helping. She had emptied the Humlander of almost everything they had taken from their campsite inside Ana’thalyia (which was not everything there had been at the campsite, to be sure.) A few bedrolls, a few waterskins, a teapot and some cups, a bag of dates and a dagger. They had found the Captain’s short sword at the dog encampment, inside a burnt tent. As she had pulled them out of the storage space, he had been packing the items inside the bedrolls for easier carriage back to the cliff. But as soon as she held out the short sword, he had snatched it from her hand and now, as she was done, the last items lay beside the rolls, untouched.

  She scrambled out and looked around. The sky was clouding over, thick black clouds that meant rain. She hoped they did not mean thunderstorms, for lightning might be problematic. He was sitting with his back against the vehicle, the short sword in his lap and the tip of the long poking into the earth between his feet.

  Solomon had said it earlier. He did not look right.

  She didn’t know what to say, so she sat down next to him and waited.

  “It’s going to rain,” he said finally.

  “Yep.”

  “No lightning, though. At least it’s not calling.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “We should get going.”

  “Yep.”

  And so they sat when they should have been going, he looking at the ground, she looking at the darkening sky.

  “I killed a dog you know. Two in fact, with this very sword.”

  “Wow.” She studied his face. “I didn’t think you’d be able to do that.”

  “Me neither. But it was easy.”

  “Oh.”

  He shrugged. “But then again, I was quite angry. It’s amazing what you can do when you’re angry.”

  He looked off now, into the trees. It was obvious he was battling something and she realized that she knew so very little about him.

  “He tried to kill me.”

  “Who? The dog?”

  “Kirin.”

  That was it. He had kept himself so busy that he hadn’t stopped to remember. She felt very bad for him.

  “Well,” she said after a moment. “He didn’t actually mean to kill you, ‘cause if he did, you’d probably be dead.”

  “I made him very angry.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I always make him angry. I don’t know why I do it. He makes me angry too. But I’d never try to kill him.”

  “I know.”

  “Have you ever tried to kill your brother?”

  “Um…I don’t, um, have…a brother. Remember?” It wasn’t an answer, but the question was disturbing. He said nothing. She felt sick.

  “You must know he loves you very, very much.”

  He poked at the ground some more. “Do you remember the commander of that battle fort in Khanisthan?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Do you think h
e went back to his town or village or family like that?”

  “Um…”

  “I don’t think so either.”

  He said nothing more for a while.

  It began with a few drops on the ground beside them, then on their heads, fat and heavy and loud. Then lighter, softer but more and very soon, their faces and hair and clothing were damp, soaked through to the pelt. It was a cold rain, and reminded them that winter was not far off. And still they sat, side by side near the hatch of the Humlander, not going.

  “I finally understand,” he said after a very long while. “It all makes sense.”

  “What does?”

  “The Tao wheel. It’s been wrong for too long. It must flip. It must be made right. Somehow, I made it wrong when I was born. I didn’t mean to but somehow I did.”

  “Kerris…”

  “Luck and destiny must be restored to their proper order. It is the way of things.”

  “I don’t understand…”

  “It’s alright, love. I do.”

  When he turned to face her, she could have sworn there were tears in his eyes, but that could have been the rain. He reached up with one hand, slipped it under her chin and kissed her. It was a gentle kiss, with little passion, and it made her feel very sad.

  “We’d better go.”

  He rose to his feet and pulled her up, called Quiz over and bent to pack up the rest of the things.

  ***

  “What was it like, being dead?”

  “Like training a young falcon,” he grumbled. “Only considerably less painful.”

  It was late afternoon, it was raining, and he was bleeding from many cuts and slices along his scalp, face, hands and neck. With the rain slicking his hair flat onto his head, and with the bandage round his eyes looking worse for wear, he looked miserable.

  The Major placed a quail leg in his hand. When he was tired, she realized, he didn’t seem to ‘see’ so well, and needed her. Apparently, tonight, he was very tired.

  “Happy Mi-hahn. Joyous Mi-hahn…” he grumbled again and took an angry chomp out of the leg. “I’ll give her happy and joyous… I’m going to wring her bloody neck, that’s what I’m going to do. Then I’ll be the happy and joyous one…”

  A grin threatened to tug into her cheek, but she refused it. “Death?”

  He sighed, but still it sounded like a grumble. He took another bite, chewed as he thought. “Death. Now, let me try to remember…”

  He adjusted his position, tucked his back into the bark of the tree he was sitting against. It gave him little protection against the rain.

  “It was somewhat like a dream, in that I didn’t know what was real, or that I was dead, or that it was anything other than truth, for in dreams, we do believe we are where we think we are. I was cold, it was warm. I was dark, it was light. Petrus was there, but it wasn’t as though I could see him, or even hear him. He simply was.”

  “Petrus Mercouri. The dead man.”

  “Yes. He said,” and he paused, chewing, to think a moment. “He said, ‘he was proud of me for not stopping what had started, and for finally leaving the little kachkah house two days walk from Shathkira…’”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t really know. And the Alchemist, she was there. She said,” and he paused yet again to think. He tossed the leg bone aside. “She said, ‘an eye for an eye, a life for a life.’”

  “And then she kissed you.”

  “Mmyes.”

  “Was it a good kiss?”

  He cocked his head. “Why do you wish to know?”

  “I don’t.”

  “I see.”

  “No you don’t. You are blind.”

  He smiled and suddenly, she was there, pinning him against the tree with her arms of steel. He could feel her wet hair on his cheek, her breath on his face, the warmth and dampness of her pelt.

  “Was it a good kiss?” she growled.

  Now it was his heart that was thudding. He swallowed, as if that would calm it. “It would have been better if it had been given in love,” he said quietly.

  “She does not love you.”

  “Most certainly not.” She was so close now. He could almost see her face through the raindrops. “It was a good kiss, but I prefer kisses in love.”

  “I do not love, so I do not kiss.”

  He breathed in her breath, warm and rich and tasting of quail. “But if you did…?”

  She paused to think a moment. “But if I did…”

  And lightly, she kissed first one brow, then the other. One cheek, then the other, until finally her lips touched his, tentatively, fleeting like a first kiss, awkward and questioning and a little unsure, and he wondered at her experience, but when her hands began to move and her mouth grew fierce, he found himself wondering at his own.

  He reached for her wrists as she pushed him to the ground.“Major, please…”

  She was on top of him now.“You are afraid.”

  “No, yes, no. Perhaps. It has been a long time...”

  She seemed to consider this, and then kissed him again, but gently. He reached up his bare hands, pressed his palms into the planes of her face. Ran his fingers over her forehead, brushed them across her lips, tangled them in the thick mane of her hair.

  Yes. He had finally left the little kachkah house, two days walk from Shathkira.

  He pulled her down to him.

  ***

  It was sunset when they reached the high river.

  The rain was hard and they were soaked to the pelt and cold. They had been walking, for Quiz had more than his share to carry, and the ground of the wet forest was difficult under their feet. Kerris did not stop at the river, rather, seemed intent on heading straight up to the cliffs.

  “Wait,” she cried after him as he began to make his way up the rocky incline. “We need to fill the skins with water, remember? And Quiz can’t make it all the way up there. We need to take the things off him and carry them up ourselves!”

  With katanah in his left hand, kodai’chi in his right, Kerris turned slowly towards her.

  “Water?”

  “Yes, remember? Solomon said.”

  He smiled at her. “Ah yes. Water. I forgot.”

  She frowned. “Okay, um, just wait. Just wait while I fill them up, okay?”

  He did not move to help.

  She felt his eyes on her as she knelt beside the rushing river, very cold now as it brought rainwaters down from the mountains. The skins swelled to bursting as she filled them, tied them and laid them on the rocks at the bank. She could still feel him watching, knew that the sword had changed him somehow, felt her heart racing with the not-knowing.

  She knew she shouldn’t, but she looked up at him. That look loosed something, something that had started long, long ago. Something that could not be stopped.

  “I could have loved you,” he called down from the rise. “I would have. But you are too clever. You deserve so much more.”

  “I…I don’t think this is the time, Kerris. We need to get these, um… get these skins…”

  He rolled the hilt in his palm, flashed his eyes at her. Smiled.

  “Quiz will take you to the border. Just keep riding south. When you get there, let him go. He deserves more too.”

  And suddenly she knew. Soaked and dripping with rain, she rose to her feet. “Oh Kerris, don’t…”

  But he whirled and was up the rocks in a heartbeat. She dropped the skins on the banks and raced up after him.

  ***

  By the time he reached the ledge, the wind had picked up and the rain had turned into a storm. He slipped in through the crevice and moved silently toward the fire. He could make out two shapes as his pupils widened in the darkness. The Ancestor Jeffrey Solomon was stretched out on his belly, head in his arms, asleep. It would be easy now in that position. One downward blow of the katanah and the man would be dispatched, never knowing what had happened, never knowing even that he had died. Not a bad thing, over all.<
br />
  But it lacked honor, he knew this much. There was a difference between killing and murder, and Kerris had never the stomach for either. But now, as he knelt by the bloody swollen hulk that had once been his brother, he understood that difference, and that difference was honor. His brother had lived by this code, this Way of the Warrior, the Bushido. It meant more to him than life, and that was always where they had differed. For Kerris, life was the prize. For Kirin, it was that life lived with honor.

  He placed both long and short swords across his brother’s knees. Katanah and Kodai’chi. Blood brothers.

  He reached for his brother’s hands, turned them over in his own. The tips were swollen and red.

  “I think I finally understand, Kirin,” he said softly. “It’s taken me long enough, but I think I finally understand what this honor means to you. Probably because I have finally seen what dishonor means to you. I have dishonored you, Kirin. I have dishonored you ever since I took my first breath and I have been doing it ever since. I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you even want to try, but I would like to ask your forgiveness and allow me the honor of restoring yours…”

  Hearing the voice, Solomon opened his eyes.

  He placed grey hands on his brother’s bloody scalp. “The katanah is yours, so it will be quick. I think I can do it. I pray I can. And the short will be mine. I do remember the old stories, so it should do just fine. Messy yes, but fine. Kirin, I wish we hadn’t come. I wish you would have married Tamre Ford-d’Elsbeth’s daughter, and stayed at the Palace and I could come and go as I needed. But I suppose, this being what it is, our last journey, I suppose I’m glad to have been able to share it with you. You are a good Captain. And a very good brother…”

  His voice caught in his throat, and he took a moment before continuing.

  “First is luck,” he said. “And you are lucky, Kirin. Even though everyone always said it was me, you were the lucky one. You were gold of gold, and you had a pretty good life all things considered. But you flipped the Tao wheel by not killing me when you should have. Or I’m flipping it now, by claiming Destiny, which was to live long enough to restore your honor. Either way, that damned wheel gets flipped tonight, and we will finally be who we were meant to be, even if it is only for a very few moments…”