The City Under the Mountain (The Seven Signs Book 4)

by D. W. Hawkins

  “Leverage has a way of shifting,” Nalia said. “Many people often overplay their positions when relying upon it.”

  “What did you come to offer, Cold Woman? Verbal sparring, or something substantial?”

  “I come to offer you an opportunity,” Nalia said. “Though the sparring has been amusing, I must admit.”

  The Maihdrim smiled again. “I have met many veledrim women in my years under the sky. Korinella used harsh words to see what you would do, but there is some truth to what she said. Most veledrim girls are meek little creatures, little better than the cow. They spend their lives aspiring to be mounted, not to ride. It is rare to meet one such as you, Cold Woman—a veledrim with steel in her heart.”

  “My thanks.” Nalia gave the Maihdrim a nod. “But please, call me Nalia.”

  The Maihdrim leaned back, regarding her with an appraising, amused expression. It looked so worldly, so out of place on a girl of her age. What hold did this young woman—who was barely old enough to marry—have over a tribe as violent and mysterious as the Mala’kii? How could one such as her possibly rise to lead them? There had to be something Nalia was missing.

  “You said that in every generation, one girl is chosen to be educated in Lesmira. How were you chosen? I’m curious.”

  “Why are you curious?”

  “I wish to know more of your culture, of your people.”

  The Maihdrim scoffed at that. “You are not a scholar, Ice Princess. You are a leader. A scholar would ask about my culture, about my people. A leader has different concerns. This is why people say that veledrim lie—you ask what you do not want to know so that what you do will be revealed in the answer. It is deceptive. Just ask what you wish to know.”

  Clever little witch.

  Nalia sighed. “How does one so young rise to lead the Mala’kii? I mean no disrespect, but it’s quite impressive someone your age has managed it. I’m curious about you, about how you accomplished it.”

  “You see my face and it makes you suspicious.”

  “It makes me curious.”

  The Maihdrim shook her head. “Another lie, at least in part. It is good that you are suspicious, Ice Princess.”

  The savage woman sat up and closed her eyes, her face adopting a serene expression. Nalia was confused for a moment, but then her skin itched ever so slightly, goosebumps forming along her bare arms. By the time she realized the Maihdrim was using her fell powers, she had no idea what to do.

  What she saw next made her stomach turn.

  The features on the young woman’s face changed, deepening to something more hardened, but no less striking. Tattoos faded into being along her arms, her shoulders, and even up the side of her neck. Her body rounded—it didn’t grow, as far as Nalia could see, but ripened to full womanhood. The most remarkable change came from the shade of her hair. As Nalia looked on in horror, the color bled from it like water leaking down a stone wall. What was left in its place was a hue like bleached bone—not the gray of old age, but white.

  When the process was done, the woman sitting in front of Nalia was older, somewhere close to Nalia’s age. She was a wild beauty, savage in appearance. Her body had retained the fox-like quality, but had sharpened that nature into something more dangerous. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the vibrant blue of her eyes and the smoldering fire living in her gaze.

  “I am Allisondra,” she said, “Maihdrim of the Mala’kii. I give my name freely to one who has earned it.”

  All the bloody gods in the Void. Nalia tried to keep her face smooth, to hide her surprise and revulsion at what she had just witnessed. What other foul spells was the woman performing? Would Nalia walk from this tent tainted by its touch? Would she be cursed—and if she was, would she even know?

  “Thank you for the honor.”

  “The honor is my own.” Allisondra adopted a relaxed posture. “I will play no more games with you, Nalia Arynthaal. Let us speak now as equals.”

  Nalia smiled, letting the tension leave her shoulders. Finally.

  “May I ask a question?” Nalia said. “A genuine curiosity.”

  The Maihdrim nodded.

  “Your hair—I’ve never seen that color anywhere. Has it always been that way?”

  “No.” Allisondra plucked at a strand of her hair. “When a Maihdrim is chosen, she undertakes a sacred path. There are many things she must do. One of these tasks is to travel to the ruins of Akanat and speak with the spirits of our ancestors.”

  “Akanat?” Nalia had never heard of such a place, and she was well educated about the nations and history of Eldath.

  “Akanat.” Allisondra nodded. “It is the place where the Mala’kii came to this world. It is not for the eyes of outsiders.”

  “I see.” Nalia’s curiosity was piqued. “And in Akanat, you spoke with the spirits of your ancestors?”

  “Yes. To learn ancient knowledge. Ghosts do not give their secrets away, though. They require a piece of your soul. I went into the pillars to speak, and when I came out, my hair was like this.”

  “Gods.” Nalia forgot her composure for a moment. “What did they tell you?”

  Allisondra gave her a wicked smile. “That is a secret only for me, Nalia Arynthaal. May I now ask you a secret from your past?”

  Nalia paused, caught off guard by the question. “Of course.”

  “I have read a history of your kingdom,” the Maihdrim said. “I know that royal daughters are married off to one man or another to further the wealth and power of your family. How did a royal scion of Thardin come to speak with authority on behalf of the Galanian people? They have conquered you, have they not? Do you come to me now as a slave, lashed to the bidding of your master?”

  Nalia bristled at the words, though she could not deny the reason they cut so deeply. There was some truth to the Maihdrim’s line of logic, even if Nalia could deny it on the surface. Nalia took a deep breath before continuing, choosing her words with care.

  “I am no slave.” Nalia was careful to keep the indignation from her voice. “Thardin is a proud country with a proud history. My father—” she almost said bent the knee, but chose to change her phrasing, “—joined the Galanian Empire because he had little choice.”

  “There is always a choice,” Allisondra said. “He could have refused and carried his honor with him into the Void.”

  “That’s a stupid choice,” Nalia countered, “when one could live and continue the fight.”

  Allisondra narrowed her eyes. “That is the veledrim way—to lie and put a spear in the back of one you have sworn to follow. This is why people say you lie, that you have no honor. It is in your nature.”

  “Honor is a complicated thing,” Nalia said. “Is it honorable to bring war upon a people and force them to submit? Is it honorable to hold a sword over a man’s head, over the heads of his family, as leverage to get what you want, then call it diplomacy when he relents?”

  Allisondra snorted. “War is the way of the world. Look anywhere under the sky and you will find the strong ruling the weak. You demonstrate this yourself—even your cultured veledrim words only serve to disguise the truth. If the Empire lied, it seems to me they are only playing by the rules of all veledrim cultures. What sympathy should I feel for this?”

  Nalia raised her chin. “I ask for none of your sympathy. I suspect you have little to give.”

  Allisondra smiled. “So—tell me, Ice Princess, are you here as the herald of submission? Have you come to tell me how good it will be for the Mala’kii to duck our heads and allow your soldiers to trample our lands? Your words can say these things, Nalia Arynthaal, but I see the truth in your eyes. You hate the Galanians. Why should I join you in taking their bit in my teeth?”

  How perceptive of you. This Maihdrim was more than Nalia had expected. She’d imagined some wizened, half-mad, illiterate sorceress when she’d pictured the leader of the Mala’kii. She had thought she could manipulate the conversation through her refined intellect, but that line of
thinking had been a mistake. Allisondra was no mystic, no unlettered savage—she was intelligent, perceptive, and dangerous. I need a new strategy.

  Perhaps, where manipulation would fail, truth would serve. These Mala’kii valued honesty, and Allisondra had been open about how little they expected from the Empire in the way of truth. If Nalia offered it to her, especially if she set herself in opposition to the Empire, what would Allisondra say?

  Nalia took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t take their bit in your teeth. That is what I’m here to say, Maihdrim of the Mala’kii. I don’t want you to ally with the Galanian Empire. I want you to ally with me.”

  Allisondra gave her a confused look. “With you?”

  “Me.”

  “Say what you mean, Cold Woman.” Allisondra’s mocking smile vanished. “If this is some ruse—”

  “It’s not a ruse.” Nalia held up a hand for peace. “Just listen to me. If you don’t like what I have to say, we can go back to warring with one another in the morning.”

  Allisondra gave her a skeptical glare, but motioned for her to continue.

  “The Galanian Empire may as well be unstoppable in the field,” Nalia said.

  “Not so.” Allisondra raised an eyebrow. “We have slaughtered many of your people. Ask your Imperial soldiers how many of them have died in Mala’keen. They will tell you.”

  Nalia clenched her teeth together. “A small tithe of blood compared to what could be taken in return.”

  “The Mala’kii have been here for a thousand years, Cold Woman. We were here when your Empire was dust, and we will be here when it returns to dust.”

  “You don’t believe that any more than I do.” Nalia turned a suspicious glare on the Maihdrim. “If you were so confident in your position, why agree to meet me at all? If you’ve read our histories, if you know our ways, you should be able to see how your war will play out.”

  “The Princess is a battle leader now?”

  “The Princess was raised by the Frost Bear, Maihdrim.” Nalia leaned forward. “I broke my fast with tactics and strategy. Before I had my first moon, I had listened to more war councils than any boy my age.”

  Allisondra gave Nalia a cold sneer. “You have never held a spear in your life.”

  “You don’t need to hold a spear to win a battle,” Nalia said. “You only need to make better choices than your enemies.”

  Allisondra chuckled. “Tell me, then, Ice Princess—how does my war with the Galanians end?”

  Nalia relaxed her posture, adopting a confident smile. “Where do I begin? Let’s start with the Haunted Hills. It’s half the size of the Dannon Steppe, most of it grasslands. Your people don’t farm, else you would trade for better farming equipment with the Moravians, and you’d be selling surplus. I can’t imagine these lands could support many people, much less a force large enough to contend with the Imperial Army. Even if all the people in your society are warriors, you couldn’t possibly hope to have the numbers.”

  “A war is not won on numbers alone. Any good battle leader knows this.”

  “Even so, every general pays attention to them.” Nalia put the lightest amount of condescension in her tone. “What wins wars, Maihdrim, has more to do with the food in the soldiers’ bellies than the courage in their hearts. The quality of equipment, the strength of the supplies. Wars cost—both in resources and in blood. It’s usually the side that’s both willing and able to spend more that prevails. How much can the Mala’kii afford to spend?”

  “The Mala’kii are rich in many things,” Allisondra said. “But we are richest in our will to fight.”

  Nalia smiled. “Courage is a wonderful thing. But when the Emperor decides to turn his army on you, to march into the heart of the Haunted Hills, what do you think your courage will get you? An army that size flattens everything in its path, it moves like a force of nature. After the Mala’kii are forced to the sea and ground to dust, I’m sure the gods will sing of your courage. The Empire, though, will keep marching and forget you ever existed. It will mean the end of everything you know.”

  Allisondra stared at Nalia for a long moment, a fire burning in her eyes. Nalia met her gaze and refused to look away. Showing weakness would lose the savage woman’s respect. The Maihdrim’s silence was telling—she had seen the same things Nalia was saying to her. She wasn’t short-sighted.

  I was right about her willingness to talk. There’s more behind their attacks than glory or plunder.

  Nalia let out a long breath and adopted a friendlier tone.

  “It’s what they did to my people,” Nalia said. “They brought war upon us, forced us into a corner, and made us adopt their laws and customs. They pushed us to our knees with a knife at our throats and told us it was for our own benefit. It is what they do, and they will do it to the Mala’kii as well. They call themselves our allies while we have their chains around our throats.”

  “I see no chains, Cold Woman.”

  “A sword held over one’s neck is little better than a chain. It has the same effect.”

  “Your message to me,” Allisondra said. “It said—”

  “Sometimes the best way to survive a stampede is to join it.”

  Allisondra smiled. “Yes. A clever message. It made me smile.”

  “You saw the wisdom in my words.”

  “I am starting to think that I misunderstood them,” the Maihdrim said. “The most obvious meaning is that you wish for me to join the Empire for glory, to join her war instead of facing her, to survive her stampede.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you say you want me to ally with you and not the Empire.” Allisondra narrowed her eyes. “Now I am beginning to think there is something else you want. This is more of your veledrim game-playing.”

  “It is simple survival,” Nalia said. “Mine, yours, and that of both our peoples.”

  Allisondra nodded, realization blooming on her face. “You wish to betray the Empire.”

  “I wish to bring it justice.” Nalia shook her head. “You speak of betrayal as if the Empire deserves fidelity. It seeks supremacy, to change everyone and everything into a version of itself. What I seek is freedom.”

  “Freedom,” Allisondra said, as if she were tasting the word. “I think you seek to preserve your own power.”

  “The power to preserve the future of my people. The power to restore my family’s honor. No more.”

  Allisondra huffed a short laugh. “I do not care for the power struggles of the veledrim kingdoms. You can all kill each other until the Night swallows the world, it makes no difference to me.”

  “We’re speaking of your people, Allisondra. Make no mistake—your world will change if the Empire is left to continue its aggression. If you fight them, they will destroy you. If you ally with them, they will change you. Give it twenty years and everything you see here will be gone. There will be roads where there were once grasslands, cities and villages springing up where your horses once roamed. The Galanian Empire is a beast that consumes everything in its path. You bend before it, or you die beneath it.”

  “If this beast is so great and terrible, what can an alliance with one woman do to help my people? You have no armies, Cold Woman. You have nothing to offer.”

  Nalia smiled. “I have leverage, Maihdrim. Given time, I will have more.”

  “Schemes.” Allisondra sighed. “Games and deception. Tell me something worth hearing, Nalia Arynthaal, or leave my tent and consider these peace talks done.”

  Nalia tried to control the irritation in her voice. “Consider this—I’m the only one who can offer you an end to the hostilities, all the benefits you’d receive from signing an Imperial treaty, and the assurance that the Emperor’s long-term goals will never come to fruition. You must fight, or you must sign, one or the other. I’m offering you a way to do both, and possibly the only option that will prevent the destruction of your people.”

  “How?”

  “By bringing you to the treaty table, I’ll gain a place
on the Emperor’s staff,” Nalia said. “And when I get close enough, when he accepts me into his confidence, I’ll kill him.”

  “You will kill him?” Allisondra looked Nalia over with a skeptical eye. “This I doubt.”

  Nalia smiled. “Doubt if you wish, but you spoke of the steel in my heart yourself. I can assure you of my resolve.”

  “It is not your resolve I doubt,” Allisondra said, “but your knife-hand. Why does your scheme involve the Mala’kii?”

  “When the Emperor dies, there will be chaos in the command structure. I’ll need allies on the field.”

  “You need an army.”

  “My father’s men will follow their king. They’ll follow his blood. The Mala’kii will not be alone on the field of battle, should it come to that. It is as you said, though—sometimes leverage is enough. If I can shift the balance of power before the thing is done, the Empire will be forced to surrender.”

  “How would you do such a thing?”

  “Deception,” Nalia said. “Scoff if you wish, Maihdrim, but you were educated in our world, as you said. You must see the threat the Empire poses. If you want to fight it, you have to meet it on its own ground. Raid until the gods return if you must, it will only buy you a small amount of time. I’m offering a hand to you, Allisondra. I can be your ally in this war, we can work toward our common interests. You won’t get such an offer from anyone else.”

  Allisondra stared at her for a long moment. Nalia felt uncomfortable under the savage woman’s gaze, though she kept her back straight and returned the glare with defiance. She thought of saying more, but there had been too many words between them already. Any more, and Nalia might appear desperate.

  In truth, her heart wanted to beat from her chest. Part of her couldn’t believe she’d made her case with such direct language. It had been a dangerous gamble, and every passing second made Nalia feel like she’d made a mistake.

  No one would believe her, were she to levy allegations.

  “You have given me much to think about, Nalia Arynthaal.”

  Allisondra rose, prompting Nalia to do the same. Nalia straightened her dress and tried to discern the expression on the Maihdrim’s face. Allisondra looked pensive but not angry.