Forgotten

by Lyn Lowe

  “Would you rather I let your old friend wander around thinking some crap I made up will keep him safe from a Namer?”

  Gregor grabbed his right hand around the wrist and turned him just enough to get a swift hit in on his side. He hunched over at the sudden shot of pain ripping through his gut, yanking his arm free of Gregor’s hold. Kidney. Wonderful. He couldn’t wait to piss blood tomorrow. He swung wide. His fist rolled off the Rit’s right arm, doing no damage. The man moved fucking fast. A year and a half boxing with Gregor, and the guy still managed to pull stunts like that. It hurt like hell. Every gods damned time. But the frustration was worse. After a year and a half, losing really ought to be easier.

  Kaie didn’t let himself react to the pain long. Gregor’s silence was a telling answer, but it didn’t mean the Rit would be content with the punishment doled out thus far. Every bit of his body screaming at him to hunch up into a ball and wait for the danger to pass, he straightened up and threw a punch of his own.

  It was aimed in the general direction of Gregor’s dimpled chin, but it went wild. That was fine with Kaie. Connecting that hit would hurt his hand a lot more than it would hurt Gregor. The point was just to show the Rit that he wasn’t ready to crawl away in defeat just yet.

  Gregor smirked, just a little, and inclined his head. Permission like that was rare, and Kaie didn’t intend to waste it. He used up the whole of the minute the Rit was allowing him to suck in several deep breaths of warm air and roll the numbness out of his right shoulder.

  “One Namer could pose a greater threat than anyone else in Hudukul,” Gregor said while he waited.

  Kaie glared at him, but held his answer until his allotted time was up. When Gregor dropped back into stance, he mirrored the other man with fists raised and feet spread.

  “I guess it’s a good thing there isn’t one Namer in the whole of Jorander then, huh?” He dodged the first jab. It was aimed at his side, but there didn’t look to be much power behind it. Gregor was testing, trying to determine how hurt he was and how hard he would need to be pressed before he would admit he was beaten. It would happen eventually, Kaie knew. It always did. But he wasn’t going to make it easy. “I’m aware of the danger. Better than you, actually. But being pissed off won’t put the knowledge in my head.”

  “No?” It was Gregor’s turn to dodge, dancing around a jab aimed at the man’s gut.

  “No,” Kaie insisted. “Believe me. I’m better at it than you.”

  Gregor’s left eyebrow arched up slightly and the lines around his mouth tightened. He was either trying not to smile or about to go for another kidney shot. Just to be safe, Kaie pulled his arms close to keep them out of the other man’s reach and protect his body.

  “Better at what?”

  “Being pissed off,” Kaie answered.

  That got him a snort, followed by two hits to his stomach. They weren’t nearly as hard as they should be. Gregor was playing with him. Kaie took the opportunity to catch the man’s ear. He wasn’t playing.

  Gregor stumbled backward, shaking his head. He was phased, but Kaie knew better than to think it was as bad as he was acting. This wasn’t a new ploy. After a few minutes, he let the act drop and fell back into his ready stance.

  “Judah thinks you’re going to turn on me.”

  Kaie grimaced. “I’m sure he also thinks you’re fucking me. The man isn’t bright.”

  Gregor laughed, full and deep, and dropped his hands. After a second, Kaie put his down too. The Rit slapped his arm affectionately. “Did he compliment your mouth? I know how much you love it when Losen crows about it. I told Judah to make sure he mentioned it.”

  Odon Losen was, without question, Kaie’s least favorite person in the whole gods damned city. The city of Hudukul was one of castes. Kaie wasn’t privy to the knowledge of how, precisely, the system worked, but it seemed there were no fewer than seven castes, and each one was allowed its own councilor in the government that used to rule the city. They were supposedly selected by a vote taken among the rest of their caste, though Kaie found it unlikely that some of those who held that honor were truly favored by their compatriots. Losen was one of those. Formerly of the merchant caste, now he was toadying up to Gregor in the hopes that the Ninth Rit’s goodwill would translate to the same when the Empress’s envoy arrived. The guy visited at least once a week, and not a single dinner ended without him making some attempt to convince Gregor to let him ‘borrow’ Kaie for an evening.

  It was excruciating, putting up with the man’s comments silently. Gregor, well aware of the potential disaster, tried to stay close. But the guy always found a way to get him alone for a minute or two. The pawing was much worse. Thus far, Kaie managed to keep himself from reacting, tolerating it all with eyes downcast and lips pressed firmly closed. That wasn’t going to last forever.

  “Fuck you.”

  Gregor’s dark eyes were still laughing, but he seemed to be making an effort to keep quiet. It was a rare consideration. Kaie rubbed the lower right of his back. He eyed the Rit with unconcealed irritation. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Soldier’s price?”

  The humor left Gregor’s face. The man sighed slowly. “Because there was no point. Why don’t you go to the kitchen and get dinner?”

  Kaie shook his head. “Not this time. You want me to play your slave boy, you’re going to explain why you didn’t tell me a couple lines branded onto my shoulder would set me free.”

  “Because they wouldn’t.” Gregor said. “You’re not stupid, Kale. I only put that brand there so I could use the Aulis before someone wondered why I wasn’t sending you to the pleasure houses or killing you. It doesn’t mean anything. Everyone working to pay a price has their name written in a book in Uraz. You’re not in that book. You won’t be paying a price.”

  “Why wouldn’t you put me in the book? I’m wearing your Aulis, Gregor! Someone in the empire is bound to wonder why there’s no record of me.”

  The Rit scowled at him. “I know. I’ve been at this a lot longer than you, and I’m not stupid either. That risk is a lot lower than putting down Kale Whoreson of Lindel, who doesn’t exist, or Kaie Zetowan, who’s the only dead man I know guaranteed to bring a Namer out into the middle of the desert. Why do you think I’ve kept you so hidden away? So long as no one gets overly curious about one unremarkable slave, no one will notice the absence of one name.”

  “No one except the Empress’s special advisor, right? What are you going to do about me when she gets here? It’s not like there are a bunch of guys running around Hudukul with red hair and an Aulis. She’s bound to be at least a little curious.”

  Gregor rolled his shoulders and tugged the front of his shirt loose from the sweat plastering it to his chest. Kaie knew he was shirtless at least once a day – he wore a different one each morning – but never saw it. No matter how hot the day, or how private their spot in the gardens, his back was never bare. There was certainly a reason, but the Rit was more willing to talk about his bowel movements than his dressing habits. The man didn’t confine frustrating Kaie to their sparring matches.

  “A runner spotted the sails a couple hours ago,” Gregor said. They were, it seemed, pretending Kaie never asked that particular question. “The envoy should be here by dawn.”

  Kaie sighed and picked up his own shirt from where he left it on the bench beside the pool. Normally, after one of their matches, he would spend some time soaking in the tepid water. It was a good way to rid himself of the blood and sweat that invariably came of fighting Gregor. It also kept him from stinking. The manse the Rit claimed was the only one in the whole city with its own bathing pool. How the others managed not to overwhelm Hudukul with their collective reek was a mystery he wasn’t interested in solving.

  Tonight, it seemed there were more pressing matters than controlling his stench. He needed to fetch his master’s dinner before the inevitable arrival of every former Hudukul politician when they learned of the impending arrival.

  “You cou
ld’ve given me enough time to clean up,” he groused.

  Gregor grinned and winked. “And miss a chance to beat you up a little? Nothing in all Elysium is worth that.”

  Kaie glared at the Rit as he tugged his shirt down and ran a hand through his hair in a pointless attempt to push it back from his face. Sure enough, a moment later it fell back into his eyes. “Do I at least look acceptable?”

  The other man looked him up and down without any trace of teasing. Their ploy wouldn’t survive mistakes, even little ones that only the staff would see. Everyone in Hudukul was watching the Ninth Rit for one reason or another, especially with the envoy so close. One slip-up could unravel the whole thing. Gregor wasn’t about to let that happen for the sake of tormenting him.

  “Your right eye might match that bruise on your jaw tomorrow. Think you can come up with a story?”

  Kaie snorted.

  Gregor smiled and patted his arm again before heading through the doorway that led to their rooms. The garden, which was open to the desert sky and contained very few plants, was positioned in the center of the manse. There were four circular doorways leading into the other parts of the building. The water in the pool, which fed up from some source underground, kept the garden significantly cooler than the rest of the city, and the open doorways meant the house was too. The rooms, especially, seemed to be significantly more tolerable. He really wanted to follow Gregor, to change his clothes and relax until his shoulder and back felt better.

  Instead, he got to come up with a story about a black eye. It would mean all the servants would be giggling about him whenever he left a room again. They were just starting to stop that, too.

  Kaie didn’t waste any more time being bitter. As predicted, the cook and her helpers all giggled when his back was turned, enjoying what they thought was an insight into their foreign employer and his exotic sex slave. He tried not to be irritated by it. It wouldn’t help anything.

  Setting up the Rit’s dinner was second nature. Carrying it into the dining hall was never simple. There were always various fruits and proteins, each one complimented by a different kind of spicy noodle that only the Hudukul were able to stomach. But he did it every night, so he laid everything out without thinking. His mind twisted around the problem of the advisor and what her arrival was going to mean.

  No matter what Gregor thought, there was no way his presence in the Rit’s household was going to go unnoticed. He was bigger now, and his skin wasn’t as light. He didn’t stick out quite so much as when he first arrived. But Kaie’s hair was still dark red in a city filled with every color but. It was unusual enough of a color in the empire. Here it was like a great big sign on his head, demanding people notice him. Someone in her company was bound to do so and find it a curious thing. He didn’t know the process of looking up names on Gregor’s list of soldiers, but Kaie was confident someone would get it in their head. He could shave every hair on his head, but even that wouldn’t solve the problem completely. Someone might still wonder about the Rit’s sudden change in apetites.

  Gregor kept him safe for a while, but he always knew it was a temporary arrangement. He hoped the plan to free all the soldiers in Hudukul and start a revolt would be the end to the game. Things were looking different now. Despite his assertion to Judah and his promise to Gregor, for the first time in over a year, Kaie was thinking about running.

  He didn’t get much time to consider it. Gregor came into the dining hall before he finished setting the last bowl on the table. He didn’t even need to look up from his task to know when the Rit entered. The man filled the room with his presence, like his personality was too large to be held within his skin. It was one of the most dangerous things about him, and the one that made his crazy plan most likely to succeed. Kaie never could decide if he loved or hated it about the man.

  If they were eating alone, Kaie sat in the chair at the Rit’s right, and they talked about the plan. No one was there yet, but it was a good guess that it wasn’t a safe night to do that. So instead, Kaie took up his position kneeling beside Gregor’s chair. They both hated the arrangement, but it proved to be the right decision. The other man was just about to take a third bite of the chicken when the first guest arrived.

  The gods took the opportunity to show their sense of humor once again. It was Losen.

  Though they were the conquers, the Urazin way was to change as little of their taken territories as possible. The government was restructured, of course. A woman of the Empress’s choosing was placed in charge, and that woman would select her advisors as she saw fit. Often, those advisors were the very politicians she unseated. And slaves. Slaves were always brought into every bit of the Urazin Empire. But, otherwise, all the traditions and customs were left more or less intact.

  In Hudukul, that meant guests felt no need to ask permission to enter, nor be announced. They simply wandered in and sat themselves down, helped themselves to whatever food caught their fancy. The cooks always prepared two or three times as much as was necessary. Often it went to waste. That would not be the case tonight. Already, Losen was picking at the glazed oranges, popping several into his mouth before he even bothered to greet the Rit.

  The fat man was as greasy and loud as ever. Slurping and smacking, he made himself quite a spectacle. He also made a point of shooting glances in Kaie’s direction. The advisor’s arrival was doing nothing to curb any of his appetites.

  “This man wonders if the woman on the ship is meant to lead the people. Does he have ample cause for concern, he wonders. What does Sir Ironfist of the Ninth Rit think. Shall this man continue his worries?”

  Kaie struggled not to roll his eyes. He didn’t mind the odd way the Hudukul spoke in circles and third person. But when it was Losen talking, it was all he could do not to shout for him to knock it off. Everything that man did was obnoxious.

  Gregor agreed, but managed not to show any sign of it. “I haven’t been informed, Lord Losen. I am still only a solider, and not privy to the Empress’s mind.”

  Losen took a bowl of the spicy noodles and slurped them up from between his fingers. His mouth wasn’t even empty when he spoke again. “Surely the Rit is mistaken. He took the greatest city in all Elysium with scarcely a life lost. He is hardly just a soldier.”

  Gregor cleared his throat. It was all the answer Losen would get on the matter, though the politician surely missed the dismissal. The man was far too interested in his own comfort to be concerned about anyone else’s.

  “If it proves this man’s concerns are warranted, would he be mistaken to think that you would speak in his favor?”

  “Your favor, Lord Losen? What favor is it you are asking of me? Not my boy again, I hope.”

  Losen sniffed and snorted, making another of his ruckuses. “Well surely the Rit has much to do tonight, preparing for the lady of the leaf in the wind. Surely it would be a help if this man was to remove him from underfoot.”

  Kaie nearly choked on air. It was all he could do to keep still.

  Gregor noticed. He tapped Kaie with his boot, more recognition than reprimand. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your generous offer. My boy is far too valuable to part with, even for a night. He will simply have to find a way to be useful in the preparations. Now, my lord, you must tell me what this is about a leaf in the wind.”

  “Has he not heard?” Every man in the room looked up at the newest guest. Tou Callo entered with all his usual bluster. The old, broad shouldered man was a much more welcome sight than Losen. It would be a stretch to say Kaie was fond of the man, but the councilor of the artisan caste was easily the most tolerable resident he knew. When Callo got him alone, it was always good humor that was offered, rather than pawing hands.

  “Tou, welcome,” Gregor said with a gesture to Kaie’s usual chair. The Rit was deeply invested in Callo. His support was essential if any of Gregor’s plans for revolt were to succeed. Thus far, the man showed every sign of being true, but the reliance on him made Kaie nervous. “And what
is it I haven’t heard?”

  “The ship. The people all buzz with it. The flag was spotted just an hour ago. Orange, with half a leaf floating on a wind. Not a one of the people know the sigil, but they are all desperate to ask Sir Ironfist. They are all quite sure that he would know the meaning.”

  Kaie couldn’t help the gasp, and coughed quickly to cover it. He knew the sigil. He used to stare at it every day, ran his fingers over it almost every morning for a full year. He used to spend a great deal of time trying to will it away and restore the perfection of the skin beneath it.

  “Yes, Lord Callo. I do indeed.” Gregor’s answer came quick, and Kaie knew it was to cover his slip. “That would be house Autumnsong. The lady Hilda Autumnsong is, I hear, very close to the Empress. Her sister Katrina runs one of the most profitable estates in Lindel. I don’t suppose it is any great surprise that the Empress found the family worthy of sorting out whatever it is she wishes of us here.”

  “Truly?” Losen murmured. He leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his vast weight. He patted his stomach, getting greasy handprints on his fancy bright blue vest. Kaie supposed it didn’t matter to men like Losen. He undoubtedly obtained a new wardrobe every week. He was from some rich merchant family, as he loved to tell Kaie when he was muttering promises in the hallway. Such men didn’t worry about ruining their clothing. “Sir Ironfist continues to insist he knows nothing? This man hears whispers, stories. Tales that say Sir Gregor Ironfist of the Ninth Rit has a sister. One who knows the Autumnsong family, perhaps?”

  Kaie coughed again, his surprise overcoming his better judgment once more. This time, no one seemed to notice.

  Gregor stood, chair scraping the stone floor. “Thank you, Lord Losen. I believe I’ve had my fill of dinner. Lord Callo. It was good of you to come. Kale, come to me as soon as the food is cleared away.”

  He almost cursed out loud as Gregor stormed away into the depths of the manse, leaving him with the two politicians.