by Glen Cook
I just looked at him.
He demanded, “What’s all this bull about you quitting?”
“Quitting what?”
“Resigning. Going away. Leaving us to the Shadowmasters.”
That had been the implication but not the substance of the messages I’d had delivered. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m going to make a speech to some priests. Just to straighten them out. Where did you get the idea I was deserting?”
“That’s the talk. They’re all excited. They think they’ve beaten you. That they just stood up to you, stopped letting you walk over them, and you’re going to say good-bye.”
Exactly what I wanted them to think. What they wanted to think. “Then they’re going to be disappointed.”
He smiled. “I’ve had nothing but trouble from them all my life. I’ve got to see this.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Why not?”
I could not tell him. “Trust me. If you’re there you’ll regret it.”
“I doubt it. They couldn’t give me much more trouble than they have already. I want to see them when you disappoint them.”
“You do, you’ll never forget. Don’t go.”
“I insist.”
“I warned you.” Him being there would not do him any good but it would be good for me. I told myself I’d done my best. My conscience was clear.
Ram finished dressing me. I told him, “I need Narayan. Abda! Would you look after the prince? If you’ll excuse me?”
I got Narayan into a corner where we could whisper. I told him what had happened. He grinned that damned grin of his till I was ready to rip it off his face. But he jumped to another subject. “The Festival is almost upon us, Mistress. We have to make travel plans soon.”
“I know. The jamadars want to look me over. But I have too much on my mind now. Let’s get through tonight first.”
“Of course, Mistress. Of course. I didn’t mean to press.”
“The hell you didn’t. Is everything set?”
“Yes, Mistress. Since early this afternoon.”
“Will they do it? When it comes to the moment of decision, will they?”
“You never know what a man will do till he’s faced with a decision, Mistress. But the men are all former slaves. Very few of them Taglian.”
“Excellent. Go. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”
* * *
The square was called Aiku Rukhadi, Khadi Junction. It had been a crossroads long ago, before the city swamped the countryside. It was Shadar then but Vehdna now. It was not a big square, being a hundred twenty feet in its greatest dimension. It had a public fountain in its center, water for the neighborhood. It was crowded with priests.
The cult leaders had come and had brought all the friends they wanted to witness the humiliation of the female upstart. They had dressed for the occasion. The Shadar wore white, simple shirts and pantaloons. The Vehdna wore kaftans and glamorous turbans. The most numerous contingent, the Gunni crowd, was subdivided by sect. Some wore scarlet robes, some saffron, some indigo, some aquamarine. Jahamaraj Jah’s successors wore black. I guessed the crowd at between eight hundred and a thousand. The square was packed.
“Every priest who’s anybody is here,” the prince told me. We entered the square behind a half dozen incompetent drummers. They were my only bodyguards. Even Ram was absent. The drummers cleared a space against a wall.
I told the prince, “That’s the way I wanted it.” I hoped I looked sufficiently impressive in costume. Atop my great black stallion I loomed over the Prahbrindrah, whose chestnut was no dwarf. The priests noticed him and started whispering. Eight hundred men whispering make as much noise as a swarm of locusts.
I positioned us with the wall behind and the drummers in front.
Would it work?
It had, wonderfully, for my husband, so long ago.
“Soul lords of Taglios.” Silence fell. I had that spell right. My voice carried well. “Thank you for coming. Taglios faces a severe test. The Shadowmasters are a threat that cannot be exaggerated. The tales out of the Shadowlands are ghosts of the truth. This city and nation has one hope: turn a single face toward the enemy. In faction lies defeat.” They listened. I was pleased.
“In faction, defeat. Some of you feel I’m not the champion for Taglios’ cause. More of you have been seduced by lust for power. By factionalism. Rather than let that worsen and distract Taglios from its grand mission I’ve decided to eliminate the cause of factionalism. Taglios will present one face after tonight.”
I donned my helmet while they were waiting for me to announce my abdication. I set the witchfires free.
They began to suspect then. Someone shouted, “Kina!”
I drew my sword.
The arrows began to fall.
* * *
While I was talking Narayan’s picked men had placed barricades in the narrow streets entering the square. When I drew my sword, soldiers inside the surrounding houses let fly. Priests screamed. They tried to flee. They found the barricades too high. They tried to turn on me. My talent was enough to hold them off, beyond my terrified drummers. The arrows continued to fall.
They surged this way and that. They fell. They begged for mercy.
The arrowfall continued till I lowered my sword.
I dismounted. The Prahbrindrah Drah looked down, face bloodless. He tried to say something, could not speak. “I warned you.”
Narayan and his friends joined me. I asked, “Did you send for the wagons?” It would take dozens to haul the bodies to an unhallowed mass grave.
He nodded, no more able to speak than the prince. I told him, “This is nothing, Narayan. I’ve done lots worse. I’ll do worse again. Check them out. See if anybody important is missing.” I walked across the killing ground to tell the bowmen they could release the people who lived in the houses.
The Prahbrindrah never moved. He just sat there and stared, painfully aware that his presence made it seem he approved.
Ram found me there. “Mistress,” he gasped. He had run all the way from the barracks.
“What are you doing here?”
“There is a messenger from Ghoja. From Blade. He rode night and day. Come immediately.” He was not affected by the mass of bodies. He might have been watching the neighborhood women at the well instead of Narayan’s cronies finishing the wounded.
I went. I spoke with the messenger. For a minute I was furious with Blade. Then I saw the silver lining.
Blade’s actions gave me an excuse to move the troops out before they got wind of what had happened here tonight.
36
The Prahbrindrah Drah sat there an hour, staring at his bedchamber wall. He would not respond to his sister’s questions. She was shaken. What had happened?
He looked at her at last.
“Did she go through with it? Did you hope she wouldn’t? I told you not to go.”
“She didn’t resign. No. She didn’t.” He laughed squeakily. “Not by a long shot.” His tone was spooky.
“What happened?”
“She resolved our problems with the priests. Not permanently, but it’ll be a long time before…” His voice trailed off. “I’m as guilty as she is.”
“What happened, dammit! Tell me!”
“She killed them. Every last one of them. She lured them there by making them think they were going to humiliate her. She had archers cut them down. A thousand priests. And I was there. I watched her walk among them afterward, cutting the throats of the wounded.”
For a moment the Radisha thought it was some grisly joke. That was impossible.
He said, “She made her point. Did she ever make her point. Smoke was right.”
The Radisha began pacing, lending only half an ear to his self-flagellation. It was grotesque. It was an atrocity surpassing comprehension. Things like that did not happen in Taglios. They couldn’t.
But what an opportunity! The religious hierarchies would be in disarray for y
ears. Atrocity or not, this was a chance to achieve all they had worked for. It could mean the return of the primacy of the state.
He heard a sound. She whirled, startled, gawked.
The woman was there, having penetrated the palace who knew how. She still wore her bizarre armor, covered with blood. “He’s told you.”
“Yes.”
“The Shadowmasters attacked Dejagore. They were repelled with heavy losses. Blade is moving south to relieve the city before they gather reinforcements. I’m going to join him. I have no one to leave here to continue my work. You two will have to handle it. Send the construction crews back to the fortress. Continue enrolling volunteers. There’s a slim chance we may get past the worst in the coming few weeks, leaving no one but Longshadow to deal with. But it’s more likely we’ll face a prolonged struggle that will require every man and resource available.”
The Radisha could not speak. The woman had the blood of a thousand priests on her hands. How could you argue with someone like that?
“I’ve handed you an opportunity you always wanted. Grab it.”
The Radisha willed herself to speak. Still nothing came out. Never had she been so terrified.
The woman said, “I have no ambitions here. You have no need to fear me—so long as you don’t interfere with me. I will destroy the Shadowmasters. I will fulfill the Company’s undertaking. And I will collect its reward.”
The Radisha nodded as though a hand had grabbed her hair and forced her to move her head.
The woman said, “I’ll come back after I’ve seen what’s happening at Dejagore.” She moved to the Prahbrindrah, rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t take it on yourself. They wrote their own destinies. You’re a prince. A prince must be stern. Be stern now. Don’t let chaos claim Taglios. I’ll leave you a small garrison. Their reputation should be enough to enforce your will.”
She strode out.
The Radisha and her brother stared at one another. “What have we done?” he asked.
“Too late to cry about it. Let’s do what we can with it.”
“Where’s Smoke?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for days.”
“Was he right? Is she really the Daughter of Night?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know. But we’re on the tiger’s back now. We can’t let go.”
37
I moved out before dawn. I took every man I could round up—except those who had helped despatch the priests. Those I left as a garrison, with orders to remain in the city a week, then to move to the remote Vehdna-Bota ford across the Main. I did not want them talking to the other men, who did not yet know about the massacre.
There were six thousand men in the force. They were scarcely more than an armed rabble. They were enthusiastic, though. They wanted to relieve Dejagore.
I tried to teach them on the march.
Narayan did not like the move. He brooded. He came to me late the third day of the march. We were twenty miles from Ghoja. “Mistress?”
“You’ve finally decided to talk about it?”
He pretended not to be surprised. He tried to accept everything about me. On the surface. Did he regret his snap decision that I was his Strangler messiah? I am sure he wanted more control. He did not want his Daughter of Night to be independent of his own ambitions and wishful thinking.
“Yes, Mistress. Tomorrow is Etsataya, first day of the Festival. We’re only a few miles from the Holy Grove. It is important that you present yourself to the jamadars.”
I guided him out of the human stream. “I haven’t been trying to duck it. I’ve been preoccupied. You said the first day. I thought this was a one-day holy festival.”
“It’s three days, Mistress. The middle day is the actual high holy day.”
“I can’t afford a three-day delay, Narayan.”
“I know, Mistress.” Funny how the honorifics showed up so much more often when he wanted something. “But we do have men capable of keeping the mob moving. All they have to do is follow the road. With your horses we can overtake them quickly.”
I masked my feelings. This was something I had to do but not something I wanted to do. Narayan’s cult had not been much use yet.
But Narayan himself was a valuable aide. I had to keep him happy. “All right. Get this mob pointed in the right direction and going on its own momentum. I’ll want Ram and my gear.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
We left the column half an hour later.
* * *
It was dark when we reached the Stranglers’ holy grove. I did not see much of it but I felt it. Seldom had I encountered a place with a darker aura. Some of Narayan’s brotherhood were there already. We joined them. They watched me sidelong, afraid to look at me directly.
There was nothing to do. I went to sleep early.
The dreams were worse than ever before, unrelenting, continuous. I did not escape till the sun rose, probed through the mist and dark trees. Ten thousand crows bickered and squawked overhead. Narayan and his cronies thought that a hugely favorable omen. The crow was Kina’s favorite bird, her messenger and spy.
Was there a connection with the crows that had followed the Company so long? According to Croaker they had picked us up before we had crossed the Sea of Torments. The Sea lies seven thousand miles north of the grove.
As soon as I wakened I was sick. I vomited as I tried to sit up. Men bustled around, solicitous, unable to do anything helpful. Narayan looked scared to death. He had a lot invested in me. He would be a nothing if he lost me now. “Mistress! Mistress! What’s the matter?”
“I’m puking my guts up!” I snarled. “Get me something.”
There was nothing anyone could do.
The worst passed. After that it was just nausea that worsened drastically if I moved suddenly. I passed on breakfast. After an hour I was able to get up and around without too much discomfort—if I took it slowly.
Being sick was new to me. I had not been, ever before. I did not like it.
There were a hundred men in the grove already, maybe more. They all came for a glimpse at their ragged messiah. I don’t think they were impressed. I would not have been, in their shoes. Nobody could measure up to an anticipation of millennia. Ragged as I was I had to be a double dose of disappointment.
Narayan did a fair job of arguing his case. They did not cut my throat.
They were a mixed bag, all religions, all castes, and as many of them foreigners as Taglians, all sinister in that grove. It reeked of darkness and old blood.
Nobody seemed festive. They seemed to be waiting for something to happen. I isolated Narayan and asked.
“Nothing much happens before nightfall,” he said. “Most of the men will arrive today. Those who are here already will make preparation. There will be a ceremony tonight, to open the festival and let Kina know that tomorrow is her day. The ceremonies tomorrow are meant to invoke her. Candidates will be presented to her, to accept or reject. After the ceremonies the feast will begin. All during Festival the priests will judge petitions presented. There aren’t many this year. An old dispute between the Ineld and Twana bands is up for judgment, though. That will attract a lot of attention.”
I frowned.
“Bands sometimes come into conflict. The Ineld band is of Vehdna stock, the Twana of Shadar. Each accuses the other of heresy and poaching. It’s an old dispute that grew much worse after the Shadowmasters invaded. In parts of their territories the bands are the only law, which makes for bigger stakes.”
It was a long story, not pretty, too human, serving to illustrate that the Deceivers were more than a lot of deadly fanatics. In some areas they ruled the underworld. The bands in question hailed from populous Hatchpur State, where the Deceivers were relatively strong. Their true feud was a contest of criminal gangs over territories.
“Anyway,” Narayan said, “Iluk of the Ineld band stunned everyone by insisting the conflict be handed to the justice of Kina.”
The way
he said it was ominous. Kina’s must be a very final justice. “That’s unusual?”
“Everyone thinks it’s a bluff. Iluk expects Kowran, jamadar of the Twana band, to refuse. That would leave the judgment to the priests, who would take his refusal into account.”
“And if he doesn’t back down?”
“There’s no appeal from the judgment of Kina.”
“I thought so.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“Some. I’m still nauseous but I’ve got it under control.”
“Can you eat? You should.”
“A little rice, maybe. Nothing heavily spiced.” They liked their spices in Taglios. Cooking odors could be overwhelming in the city.
He handed me over to Ram. Ram hovered. I kept my composure. Well I did. While I nibbled, letting each bite settle, Narayan brought a parade of priests and jamadars for formal introduction. I memorized names and faces carefully. I noted that few of the jamadars boasted the black rumel. I met only four men who did. I mentioned that to Ram.
“Very few are honored, Mistress. And jamadar Narayan is foremost among those. He’s a living legend. No other man would have dared bring you here.”
Was he warning me? Maybe I had best watch myself. There could be politics here, too. Some band captains might resist me simply because I was associated with Narayan.
Narayan. The living legend.
How had our paths come to cross? I’m no believer in fate or gods, in the accepted senses, but there are powers that move the world. That I know well. Once I was one.
The sender of my dreams arranged it, no doubt. She, or it, had been interested in me long before I became aware of that interest.
Could it have been she who had struck Croaker down? To rid me of an inconvenient emotional entanglement?
Maybe. Maybe when the Shadowmasters fell I might turn to another target.
The anger rose in me. I controlled it and rode it, let Ram finish feeding me, went exploring the grove. I went to its heart and examined the temple for the first time.
It barely passed muster. It was so buried in creepers it was barely recognizable. Nobody challenged my presence outside. I did not press my luck by climbing the steps. Instead, I rambled around.