Soldier's Duty

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Soldier's Duty Page 26

by Patty Jansen


  His eyes met Izramith's in a challenge.

  "Anyway, so the girls stay at home. They're sad, they're bored. They get into trouble. So, one day a Mirani man comes and he says to a father: I want your girl. The man is ex-army, but he now has a local business and is well-known in town. He says I got work for her, you'll get paid and she might even find a man. Which father of a heartbroken daughter wouldn't jump to that opportunity?

  "So the man says: your girl would have to come to Miran. Normally, the father might have a problem with that, but at that time, he's so desperate, he just wants to see his girl do something useful. She's at home, she's slowly going crazy and you think every time she goes out to the baths that she'll drown herself."

  "So, he talks to his daughter's mother and she says yes, because she has been dealing with a bored girl for much longer. And the daughter goes off to Miran."

  It was so silent in the room that Izramith could hear footsteps on a tiled floor above.

  Izramith said, in a low voice, "Except the father never hears from her again."

  He met her eyes in a disturbed look that told her she'd guessed right.

  "Why doesn't Daya know about this? Have you told him?"

  "Oh, it's not that simple. It's a lot worse… to be honest."

  Worse? Was that possible? People disappearing from three different places, forced to work for no money and forced to stand in the snow in their bare feet. What was going on?

  "It gets worse because after she's been gone for a while, the father sends messages, which aren't answered, and tries to contact the man from Miran. He says the daughter is fine and he can deliver a message. He does, and the father receives a message back. It's written by the daughter and she says that she is happy and working hard. The father is happy for a while. But then he contacts the man again because some important day comes up like the girl's birthday. And he is told that the man will deliver a message, but it won't be free. The father pays, and the man takes the message, which is again answered by the girl. She says that she is happy and working hard, but doesn't give much more information than the previous time, so the father gets suspicious. Did she write the message or is it a copy of the first one? So he goes back to the man, and there is a problem. Because the Barresh council has passed laws that families can no longer be paid for girls, the man wants the money back because he doesn't like trouble with the council. He is, he says, going to be reasonable. The family can keep the money that the girl has earned already and will be paid in regular instalments for the rest as the girl works. At that point, the father has had enough and he says he likes to have his daughter back. But, the man says, would you tear her away from a happy life? Because she is about to get married and there is no way she'll ever do this in Barresh. The father knows all too well that this is true. There are not many boys of her age in Barresh. At that point, the Mirani man produces pictures of the daughter with a young man. The family can keep one of the pictures, he says.

  "The father caves in. The daughter should obviously stay in Miran. He says he can't pay the money back because he's used it, so the man offers a loan. The terms are terrible, but what is the alternative? So he agrees to the terms, but he doesn't tell his family. Instead, he shows them the picture. But instead of being happy, the girl's mother wants to visit her daughter. And the father says: But it's in Miran, and she replies: they were good enough to rule our city for three hundred years and no one ever complained much then, especially not you. So the father goes back to the Mirani man to ask if a visit is possible, because, you know, if his daughter is really getting married, then the family should be invited.

  "At that point, there is another problem. There has been a foreigner murdered in Miran, and people are nervous. Would the father agree to house someone for a little while? But what about my daughter, he asks. She's fine, the man assures. We'll arrange a visit when the situation is a bit better.

  "So the man accepts a stranger into his house. The visitor is young, male and dark-haired. He is barely ever there, so the father doesn't mind his presence in the spare room very much. The visitor stays for a few days and leaves. Before he leaves, he asks: is it all right if he leaves some stuff in the room?

  "It's not a lot, just a few bags of clothes and personal belongings, so the father says all right, even though he knows that the women won't like it. But now at least all obstacles have been removed for him to see his daughter. By now, she's been away for over a year.

  "But when he comes to the man's house, the Mirani man is no longer there. The father hears that the Mirani business has decided to replace him with another, and this new man doesn't know anything about his daughter. He says: there are no keihu girls in Miran, and when the father shows him the picture, he will point out how the picture is not real. At this point, the father will get angry and demand to see his daughter and if not, he will take the matter to the council and the guards, and the man will reply…"

  Jisson Semisu swallowed. It had gone very quiet in the room. Few of the men watched him speak. Most stared at the table or their glass. Faces were grave and solemn.

  "The Mirani man will say that if the father goes to the council or tells anyone, he will never see his daughter again. Also, because the father had the audacity to make threats to someone who's done him a favour, he is required to pay a big chunk of money to the Mirani man, or he will report the father to the council for treason, because the stuff that the visitor left behind contains spying equipment.

  "The father runs back home and tips the contents of the visitor's bag on the floor, and he finds nothing. Then he investigates every part of the room. He finds bits and pieces of equipment stuck to the outside of the window and a roof ledge and on the balcony. He knows that his house is being used as a spying post, but there is nothing he can do about it."

  There was a long silence. A few men nodded. One blew his nose.

  "There you go. It's not pretty, but there is the story. It's happened to a number of us."

  "So why are you telling me this only now?"

  "Because they would have carried out the threats, especially to our daughters, but now you captured Ridan, and the Barresh council will find out anyway."

  "How many girls are we talking about?"

  He handed her a piece of paper on which someone had scrawled names in the untidy and disjointed hand of someone right-handed trying to write Coldi. There were twelve names, and one Semisu girl, on the list. She met Jisson Semisu's eyes.

  "That girl is my cousin's daughter. He owns the large guesthouse on the corner of Market Street. I don't get on with him very well, but he's been pushed really hard by these Mirani underworld people and doesn't deserve this. I've been trying to help him by telling him ways he can refuse an audit, even though I know how wrong that is, but…" He spread his hands. "He's still my family."

  This was getting worse all the time. "What jobs exactly are these girls doing for the Mirani?"

  "We've never been told. Daya himself should know more about it, because he only just managed to escape from Miran himself."

  What?

  "Please. Help us. We're desperate. We fear for our children. We fear for ourselves when the city finds out what we've done. We've lived here all our lives, and we've already been the subject of so much negative attention. If Miran finds out that we've spoken to you, they'll kill our families. They're on our roofs and in our back yards. We had to let them in. They're all over the city. They want to take out all of the Andrahar family, as well as Daya and other councillors. We've been ordered to mislead and obstruct the Barresh security operations, and we're too afraid to speak out as long as they hold our daughters."

  Chapter 26

  Izramith asked questions. When did they last see their daughters, who was this man who paid money in exchange for them, which was the last girl to disappear. Even if they didn't know what the girls did, what did they think Miran wanted with their daughters? The answers were many. To be whores, to marry mid-level officers. Some said it was to be test s
ubjects for medical treatments.

  "Because of the gamra boycott, Miran can't import much anymore. They're relying on their own methods and have to develop new science in a hurry."

  In the end, no one could be certain about it. No one had yet been able to visit the girls.

  "We don't even know if they're still alive," an older man said and several faces went sombre after that remark.

  Izramith said that she would do her best to both help them and keep this meeting secret.

  The room was very quiet while she walked out. She didn't look back or met anyone's eyes.

  When she was at the door, she let out a breath of relief.

  Part of her oath to the Hedron guards stated that she should be prepared to die for her job. Her oath also stated that she would follow orders and never question. She already got far too many disciplinary notes on her records for questioning and disobeying rules. Some she probably earned since coming here. Disregarding Eris' concerns about breaking into that unit, bashing down the door, talking back to her employers.

  It was time to step up the disobedience to a whole new level.

  She'd been fucked over from all sides, especially by Daya. It was time to question.

  She walked faster and then started running through the underground passage. Not from fear, but sheer pent-up anger. She found an access hole and leapt up the ladder. She came out in a street unfamiliar to her, chose a random direction and ran.

  It felt so good to be doing something. This was what she had missed all that time. She'd been paralysed with fear after Indrahui. Too afraid to take action, to make decisions or assume responsibility. Too afraid to get angry.

  At the street corner, she recognised the cross street as Fountain Street. She turned in that direction, towards the airport, came out in the large square, turned left, ran across the markets, where there was still plenty of night-time activity. People stared at her and scurried out of her way.

  Into the street on the other side of the markets. Sunset Street. Daya's house was the first one on her right, nextdoor to the Andrahar house.

  She pushed open the gate. A guard came to look, but recognised her and stepped back. Up to the porch and into the open door.

  Daya must have been warned, because he came out of one of the rooms under the gallery and stopped, staring at her.

  "What have you been doing? What happened?"

  She glanced down. Her clothes were covered in slime and mud, some of it caked in her ponytail. No doubt her face was dirty, too. She wiped her arm across her cheeks and it came away with a streak of blood. She didn't remember scraping or hitting anything.

  "You have to call off the wedding parade." Because the Andrahar family themselves were too fucking stubborn to do it themselves.

  "Why? What's going on? Eris assured me that everything is covered."

  "You and Eris and everyone in this town have had your hair pulled so far over your eyes by your own councillors, you've been too drunk to see what's going on."

  His eyes widened. Having lived at Hedron, he would know what it meant for her to break ranks like this. Knowing his history, drunk was probably also a poor choice of words.

  "You knew nothing of this scheme Miran has to force people from this town into slavery? You knew nothing of the fact that the people who make this town unsafe are right in the council? You knew nothing of the fact that they were unhappy with the way the town was going, that their daughters can't find husbands, that they're the laughing stock of everyone and that of course they're not going to sit back and take that treatment lying down and—"

  "Whoa, whoa, slow down. Let's go inside." By the expression on his face, he seemed genuinely rattled. Well, he deserved to be.

  He opened the door of the room where he had just come out. It was a library, a luxurious room with a soft carpet and beautiful furniture. A window at the far end looked out over the marshlands.

  A set of couches directly opposite the door was empty, but a light stood on the floor in the corner and a woman and three young boys sat around it, the glow gilding their faces. One of the boys was the Andrahar heir whom Izramith had seen at their house.

  The other two were younger, more chubby and both had the black hair and eyes of their father.

  Wasn't it way past children's bedtime? Whatever had they been doing?

  The woman rose in a fluid motion while cradling a baby in the crook of her arm.

  She was almost as tall as Daya, but, dressed in a robe with many folds over a multi-layered dress, more imposing.

  Izramith had never seen a female zhadya-born. Her eyes were fathomless black as Daya's, her face pale with prominent cheekbones. Her hair, straight and dark, hung past her shoulders.

  "This is Anmi Kirilen Dinzo, head of Anara Teren, our research and education facility, and mother of my boys."

  Izramith nodded a polite greeting. The familiar chill went over her.

  The infant squirmed and raised two little hands. The woman turned him around so his belly leaned into her, patting his back. How old was this baby? He didn't look much older than Shada when she had last seen him.

  "I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

  "The boys were having a welcome ceremony for their little brother," Daya said. "He was born late this afternoon."

  When she had been looking for Daya in the council building. Had no one at the council known this?

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."

  The woman's expression said You're already rude. Izramith cringed. Thimayu wasn't even fully recovered from the birth two days later.

  "I am sorry, but I've made an important discovery."

  The woman sat down at the chair at the desk, still patting the baby. She spoke to the other boys in a low voice, telling them to keep sitting quietly, judging by her hand gestures. The language she spoke didn't sound familiar at all.

  "Now, what is the problem?" Daya asked. She could almost feel his annoyance.

  Izramith told him as much as she dared to share of what Jisson Semisu had told her. She didn't mention names or descriptions of any who had been in the cellar. She named the prisoner Ridan as her source of her data.

  "So you did get some information out of him after all," he said. "Good. I heard about him, and intended to question him tomorrow."

  Intended? Past tense?

  "The guards found him dead not long after being locked in his cell."

  Shit. Was he that afraid of being handed back to Miran?

  "What he said was clear: your betrayers are in the council. They sit opposite you at meetings and know everything because everyone trusts them. They are not even willing traitors, but they act out of despair and powerlessness."

  "No one is powerless in this town."

  "Maybe not, but they have less power than before. They feel unhappy and marginalised and powerless to change their lot. People laugh at them, how they'd been primitive, stupid and a lot of other things I don't need to repeat, but I'm sure you know. They provide inroads for the Mirani army. Or rather, were approached by the Mirani army. They allowed their property to be used. They are reluctant to act against Miran because their daughters are in Mirani control. Miran is holding twelve girls, and also some Pengali."

  She took a deep breath and plunged in further. She knew how powerful this man was.

  "The old councillors say that the council ignores their concerns, pushes ahead with reforms they don't support and that the new laws hurt their families."

  "You do know that in the past, these men had many wives, often too young to be jumped on by an old man."

  "I know, and I don't defend them, but I do understand what their problem is. We're standing in a town that's been theirs for hundreds of years. They feel like everyone is walking over them."

  He said, sharply, "And have you seen what a mess they made of the place?"

  He rose, went to the window and balled his fists against the glass. Breathed out deeply and came back to his seat.

  He was quiet for a while. "This concer
ns all the old keihu councillors?"

  "Lead by Jisson Semisu and his followers."

  "Impossible!"

  "Yet it's true."

  "Nonsense. I would trust those men with my life."

  "Well then maybe you need to re-examine your concept of trust." She'd said it before she realised what she had done.

  In a few steps, he crossed the room and stopped in front of her. Really close. Shivers-down-her-spine kind of close. His face was hard and unemotional. The depth of his eyes whirled with anger. This was the man who, as an adolescent, had terrorised Edyamor and his family, smashed up his room, drunk himself into rages of anger.

  This was the man who, when followed by Commander Blue, had climbed into a boiling hot steam vent, lived to tell the tale and unleashed a blinding flash across the valley. This was the man who, with those flashes, disturbed the Exchange reception at Hedron, and the man who was feared so much at Hedron that no one dared ask him how he did it.

  Blue sparks flashed across his eyes.

  Izramith retreated, but she was as good as dead already.

  Anmi said something.

  Daya turned his head to her. He said nothing, but the tension was broken. He breathed out heavily. Even his breath felt icy cold.

  Izramith spoke slowly. "Why. The hell. Did you appoint me?"

  Anmi said, "He didn't want to appoint you. I did." She rose and walked through the room with the grace of a hunting animal, while still carrying the baby. This woman had given birth this afternoon?

  Daya snapped something back at her.

  She replied in Coldi. "She deserved to know. I didn't trust those friends of yours as much as you did. And it seems I was right, wasn't I?"

  Oh, for fuck's sake, that's all she needed, to be caught up in a spat between two halves of a powerful couple.

  Daya sighed and balled his fists.

  He turned to the window again and slammed his hand flat onto the glass. The smack startled the baby. The three other boys still sat around the light, quiet and subdued. Large eyes blinking in the low light. Had they learned to keep out of the way when their father was angry?

 

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