by Unknown
I rose and opened the barn door, stepping across the threshold. The soldiers turned to look at me. Past them, I could see the horses, and now I looked at them, saw them for the first time: Nidhiri. A matched pair, more perfect than those we had lost.
Which Talrak's men had found, just when we had need of them.
Not by chance, but providence. And looking at them, I knew I was right. Every word I spoke was—must be—the king's.
"Baswar Jal's men are making for Lageshatra," the king’s voice said. "They will be pillaging the city, and taking the nobles prisoner. This means they will be dismounted, disorganized, and unprepared to defend themselves. We will ride quickly, and take them by surprise. Send two messengers to General Khilgani, but the rest will ride for Lageshatra. Immediately."
I am the kingspeaker. I speak for the king.
Men leapt into action. Talrak was giving commands, selecting his messengers. I did not stand to watch. Instead I turned, and found Idri standing just behind my shoulder.
He was not without courage. If his fear spoke loudly in his mind, then I would speak against it, on behalf of that courage.
"Come," I said to him. "Victory awaits, and the Goddess Triumphant herself has blessed us."
♦ ♦ ♦
A full moon rose as we set off into the dusk, and no horse so much as stumbled. We rode faster than the wind, our pace set by the perfect Nidhiri Idri and I bestrode. Talrak's trackers found sign of the enemy's passage, growing fresher as we went. We traveled through the night and through the day, stopping only briefly for water, and reached Lageshatra at sunset.
Screams arose from the city, and the clash of metal; fire burned in one quarter, for Baswar Jal had no need of stealth. He believed himself safe, with the army far away. No massed force, no body of bandits waited for us. Having found the city unprepared, they were taking it at their leisure.
Talrak looked at me, and I looked at Idri.
Our horses reared as one, in perfect unison. When Idri opened his mouth to speak, I did not wait for his words; I spoke with him, overlaying his pure voice with the safe one that resided in me. "Bring me the head of Baswar Jal!"
Carried by the Goddess Triumphant herself, we rode into Lageshatra.
They say Baswar Jal was bitten by a snake, before the soldiers overwhelmed him. I do not know if it is true. Certainly the Blood Goddess touched our doings, as she touches all slaughters, but I do not think she was present that night. Our victory came from another hand. Of this, I have no doubt.
When the city was retaken, Idri and I dismounted, and the horses were not seen again. The men tell many tales of what happened to them, each more impressive than the last. Soon we added to our tales the victory of Khilgani's force; they engineered the collapse of canyon walls that blocked the exit of the bandits, forcing them against the massed ranks of our own soldiers. Patrols scoured the hills, chasing down those last remnants who had not surrendered, and reclaiming Khilgani's daughter.
This is the great victory we go to celebrate in Anahata. I have laid down my story, as truthfully as I can, and I will burn it at the temple in honor of the Goddess Triumphant.
In the small hours of the night, when I lie awake, I still wonder at the decision I made. The Goddess put the vision of Lageshatra in my mind, but the choice to speak was mine.
I do not regret it. The words I spoke were Idri's; it must be so. I have no voice of my own. Anything I say is said by the king, for my voice is his.
There is dangerous power in this. But I pray heaven to keep me on a straight path, that I never abuse Idri's voice. My service is only ever for my king and his people, for whom I will speak until the day I die.
Copyright © 2008 by Marie Brennan