The tie burned in my chest, so urgently it was almost physically painful.
Lalani did not say anything, only turned and started up the path again. Here, that required a nearly vertical climb, but with good places to set hands and feet. I climbed up after her, and prayed to the gods to make the way we must travel straight and short and bring us to the place we needed to come.
Perhaps the gods heard my prayer and perhaps not. If the world shifted around us, or if Lalani and I shifted through the world, I could not tell it. To me, it seemed that we climbed a long way, but it might not have been as long as it seemed. I began to see signs that living people had come this way before us. Most obviously, here and there, blood, bright red, streaked the stone in a place where someone would have set a hand to grip—not much blood, but someone had cut her hand. From the height of those marks, that had been either Inhejeriel or my sister, not Aras. I was glad there was not more blood.
The sounds of battle fell away behind us surprisingly quickly as we moved upward. But I suspected enemies were probably coming behind us. If I fought one of the Saa’arii warriors, I would probably be able to get a sword, but if I faced two or more enemies with only a knife in my hand, I would more likely be dead. My lungs burned in the thin air. I hoped the Saa’arii had that trouble too, but I did not know.
“Lalani, wait,” I said suddenly. She paused at once, letting me come up beside her. My knife was in my hand, though I did not remember drawing it or know at once why I had drawn it. My stomach was tight, but I did not know why.
Then I knew. “There has been a fight only a little way before us,” I told her, indicating the way we had been climbing, where the ledge turned and led steeply upward. I spoke quietly, but I did not whisper. A whisper carries farther than a low voice.
Lalani followed my gesture with her eyes, and grew still. There was not much blood there. A drop and another drop streaked the stone before us. Then a third fell from above, and a fourth after that, someone’s life dripping from some higher ledge, spattering the stone with vivid crimson. In ordinary moonlight, blood looks black. Here, the moonlight was so bright that the color of the blood was only a little darker than usual.
It was so quiet where we stood that I almost thought I could hear the drops strike the stone. Certainly someone living had been gravely injured or killed, so recently that the blood had only now run down the stone to the cliff edge above us and began to drip onto our ledge.
I murmured, “We will go on, but quietly. I will go in front. You will keep an eye to our trail. I want to come up behind an enemy if I can, but I do not want an enemy to come up behind me, so watch carefully.”
“Right, yes,” Lalani whispered, pressing herself against the face of the cliff to make room for me to pass her. The ledge was narrow here, not as narrow as the bridge of ice, but narrow enough to make this awkward. Lalani faced the cliff and took hold of a place where the stone was broken, and I sheathed my knife and set my hands on her waist to steady myself and edged past her.
Then I drew my knife again and went on, softly but quickly. If an enemy had killed one of our people, I hoped very much that this enemy was still there when we came to that place. This was a stupid wish. I knew I should want our path to be clear. But I wanted very much to kill an enemy.
I made my way upward, easing gently over any place where broken pieces of stone might shift under my feet and give warning to an enemy. Up and most carefully around the outthrust angle of stone that had blocked my view of the way ahead. I found no enemy before me, but I still could not see as far as I wished; the path turned again, steeply upward. Blood had run down from above and pooled here. This was the blood that had begun to drip down to the slope below. There was enough blood that I knew someone had certainly been killed, probably more than one person. I moved more softly still, picking my way carefully past the pooling blood. Then I slipped quietly farther up, crouched low, and eased around the last turn, slowly to avoid drawing notice by any swift and unconsidered motion.
It was Iro. He was dead, as I had known someone must be. He lay sprawled on his face where he had fallen. I could not see what wounds had killed him, but a great deal of the blood had been his. Other blood spattered and pooled elsewhere, but no other bodies lay abandoned here. Our enemies did not leave spilled blood or torn bodies when they died; they came out of shadows and they were made of shadows. Iro's body lay alone, rather than surrounded by fallen enemies as would befit a warrior.
Any enemies who lived had certainly gone on and must now be ahead of us on this path.
I could see no sign Tano had come this way. No one had trodden in the blood, which would be difficult to avoid. But perhaps he had gotten ahead of Iro at some moment.
Lalani had come up behind me. She said nothing. Neither did I. My sword lay some distance from Iro’s outstretched hand. Walking forward, I picked it up. I took the sheath from Iro’s back and slung my sword into its accustomed place.
If we had been in the land of the living, I would have taken his head. Here, I did not know what would be right to do. In the end, I only turned his body so that his face was toward the sky, so that the Moon might see his face and know what warrior had fallen here. The many wounds to his chest and belly showed me that he had died fighting more than one enemy. He had still carried one waterskin, now spattered heavily with blood, but nearly full. Mine was less than half full, so I took that.
Then I straightened and stood looking down at his body for a moment. I said, “He died bravely and honorably. I pray the gods receive him kindly.”
Lalani nodded. But she said, “I pray that Inhejeriel can lead him back into the world of the living, so he won’t face the judgment of the gods for many years.”
I took a breath of the thin air and let it out. I had forgotten that possibility. I had little hope anything would happen in that way, but I said, “Yes.” Then I went on. “I think we can be certain enemies are ahead of us now. I will lead. Remember to watch behind us. If you must speak, then speak quietly.”
“Yes,” she said, in the way of an Ugaro warrior acknowledging an order.
I smiled at her. She was very, very brave. Cold and thin air and long effort had worn on her all this time. She was very weary, though she would not say so. Her skin was tight-drawn over her face; her cheekbones sharper than they had been, her eyes larger, with fine lines at the corners that had not been there before. She shivered slightly and constantly. But she stood straight, pretending that she was not cold or tired or afraid. This is a kind of courage the Lau sometimes show, the best of them: a courage that endures every hardship without complaint. I thought she was even more beautiful than she had been before anything had happened.
I did not say anything more, but turned and led the way upward.
-23-
We climbed steadily for some measureless time. I put away the uneasiness about this endless day, as I put away pain and weariness, so that I could pay attention to the land and the air.
I could not put aside my awareness that Aras still needed me, needed us. The sense that he was in great danger, the urgency to come to him, had begun increasing in intensity once more. I wished he would speak to me in some manner so that I might know exactly what danger he faced. I did not like him to set a false memory into my mind even for such a purpose, but I wished he would do it now. I thought as clearly as I could that I wanted him to do that. But nothing of the kind occurred. I thought perhaps he could not spare the concentration to work that kind of sorcery. That was not a good thought either. None of my thoughts were good now.
I froze in my tracks, putting up a hand to halt Lalani. Someone was before us on the trail. I heard almost nothing; the person or people were quiet; but someone was there. I signed to Lalani to wait and to watch behind us. Then, drawing my sword, I slipped ahead, moving as quietly as I could. I pretended I was one of the silent leopards of the mountains. Quieter even than that: a soft breath of wind. A drift of mist.
Then, not far before me, a foot scuffed
against stone, and a pebble rattled loose down the slope, bouncing past me, and a low voice muttered a curse.
For a heartbeat, I stood perfectly still. Then I sheathed my sword, straightened, strode forward around the curve of the path, and said, “Raga! That is hardly fit language for a man who has come into the land of the shades and may soon face the gods.”
My brother wheeled around, astonished. Arayo inKera, a short distance above him, pivoted as fast, his sword half-drawn, but he had already recognized my voice and slid his weapon back into its sheath as he turned.
Raga laughed. “Ryo!” he said. “I thank the gods!” He ran to meet me, slipping a little on the steep path in his haste.
I caught him in a brief, hard embrace, set him back to a small distance, and said sternly, “How fortunate that the son of the inKera warleader is here to watch for enemies, as my younger brother is so careless as to dislodge pebbles and then curse aloud. Who knows who else might have heard you?” I grinned at Arayo over Raga’s shoulder. He had turned to the side so that he could keep an eye both on the path above us and the path below. That was well done, and I nodded to him to show I recognized his good sense. “I am very glad to find you both,” I told them fervently. “But how did you come here? Aras found you?”
“Yes, your sorcerer found us, Ryo,” my brother agreed, his words tumbling over one another in his eagerness to speak. “There was only darkness, except not really darkness, it was nothing at all, except I felt enemies surrounded me, but I could not see them, I could not see anything.”
“But Aras found you.” I was deeply, unutterably grateful, even though we were still in so much danger. I shoved my brother lightly to tell him to go on.
“Yes!” he said, speaking now over his shoulder. “I was alone, I was alone for a long time, but then suddenly Aras was there with me, almost as close to me as you are now.” Then Raga faced forward, climbing fast, but continued to speak. “He gripped my arms, looked into my face, and said, ‘Here you are at last! Come as fast as you can, but take care, our enemies are closing in.’ Then he vanished and I was alone in the empty darkness again. But something had changed, because after that I knew where he was. I hurried to find him and came out of the darkness, and found Arayo, and he knew where to go too; everything happened the same way for him as for me. We have been trying to hurry, but we have been trying to be careful, too, Ryo. I am sorry I kicked that rock loose, but I stumbled.”
“So, so, you stumbled?” I chided him. “I am sure an enemy would forgive your clumsiness. You must take more care.”
“I know!” he answered, laughing again. “I do know. We have seen enemies.” He hesitated, turning again to face me. “These are not living men, but they do not seem to be ordinary shades. Do you know what they are?”
Lalani answered before I could. “The shadows of Saa'arii warriors—Inhejeriel's enemies. They kill themselves so that they can come through the dark tide into the shadow it casts. They are fearless because they are already dead, and their whole purpose is to kill Inhejeriel before she can work her great sorcery.”
All of us stared at her, even I. Though I had heard Inhejeriel speak of her enemies, though she had explained that the dark tide here was the shadow cast by the Saa'arii tide above the world, I had not put all these things together so clearly. But when Lalani explained in that way, I knew she was right.
“This explains some things we have seen,” Raga said soberly. “We saw Iro inGeiro fighting them, Ryo. There were too many. We could not help him.” He stopped, not certain how to finish. There was no good way to finish that kind of story.
I began to say that I understood, but Arayo said before I could, “We left him to fight alone. There were too many, and nothing to gain from facing them.” He touched his chest, over his heart. “Aras needs us to come to him. We both felt that—we still feel it. That was not the place to make a stand.”
He spoke in a level, calm tone, as befits a young warrior and the son of a warleader, but he looked at my face too. I could tell he was not certain he had done the right thing.
I said, “This was a hard choice, but sometimes there are no right actions and one must make a hard choice. When that kind of decision must be made, then you must make it. I was not there, but I think every other choice at that moment was probably worse. If the gods are extraordinarily generous, then we may have time to consider the matter at greater length at a later time, but for now, set everything that happened in the past.” I paused for long enough to show I thought the subject was closed.
Then I said firmly, “We will go on again now, as quickly as we can. I am very, very glad that Aras found you and that I have found you, but everything is dangerous.” I longed to sit down for some time, until I could become accustomed to the knowledge that my younger brother still lived and was not dead, not lost. But even if no enemies came at our backs, we did not have time to linger in that way. The urgency of the tie had become more intense even in these few moments.
I beckoned to Lalani. “I will go in front, and Lalani behind me. Then Raga, then you, Arayo, will come last. Watch behind us and to either side.” If we had no choice but to fight, I would do my best to get a sword for my brother as quickly as I could, though the curving Saa’arii weapons would be different from the swords Ugaro used. I added, “We think perhaps Lalani may be able to help Inhejeriel with the kind of sorcery that might win victory for our peoples and leave our enemies wailing in defeat, so if we must fight, try to protect her.”
“Yes,” both the young men agreed, accepting this order.
We went on. Though I listened as carefully as I could, for some time I heard nothing but the wind, and, very distant, the ring of sword against sword. That sound echoed so that I could not tell whether it came from above or below, but I feared perhaps both. I could not hear Etta singing, and realized I had not heard her voice for some time. I prayed to the gods that she was not dead.
Then an eagle passed through the sky, so near that I heard the stiff whisper of the air through his wings. I heard that sound and saw his shadow hurtle across the face of the cliff before I saw him, but then he came clear to my sight. Where a living eagle has feathers that are bronze and copper and black, this one seemed a bird made of air and ice and moonlight and the night wind. He was so big that at first I thought he was a female eagle, because they are bigger than the males, but the black tips on some of his feathers showed me otherwise. He was bigger than any male eagle I had ever seen or ever heard described. His wingspan was wider than the whole span of my arms.
The eagle tilted his wings and swept up and away, and around. He cried out harshly, the cry an eagle makes when he challenges a rival. He rose high, then stooped hard and fast at a place below us, but not too far below. He did not strike prey, only drove a fierce line through the sky, then wheeled away again.
I said, “There are enemies there.”
Arayo nodded. He had understood the eagle’s actions in the same way I had. “They probably know we are here.”
“They may,” I agreed. “We will go fast, as fast as we can.” Turning again, I began to make my way forward again, careless of noise now. Difficult though the path had become, I drew my sword. The eagle slid past, rising steeply. Nothing of his actions suggested to me that an enemy was close above us.
“Aras—” Lalani began.
I said, “Yes, I know.” We all knew. The urgency of the tie had once again become something close to desperation, so strong that it was all I could do not to rush up the mountain at my best speed. But if the shadow warriors came up behind us and we were not set properly to meet them, none of us would live to reach the high peak, though I thought now we must be very close.
I said, “Lalani, go past me. Go as fast as you can. Call out if you meet enemies, but if you find no impossible obstacles before you, then do not stop. Do not wait.”
If there were enemies ahead of us, and she came upon them with no one to protect her, then I might be sending her to her death. But I hoped for bette
r. Aras still lived. He must have set himself in a very good position or he would have been killed long since. I hoped that if Lalani could come to him, he could protect he.
She was hesitating to do as I had ordered. I said starkly, “I do not hear Etta now. If my sister has been killed, then perhaps you may be of use to Inhejeriel.”
Raga caught his breath. But Lalani took a breath, let it out, and made her way past me, climbing faster than I could. Terror will show a man, or a woman, unsuspected reserves of strength. And I already knew she possessed every bit as much determination and courage as any Ugaro.
She was soon out of sight. Very soon after that, I became certain that I heard our enemies, very close behind us now, coming fast. In a place where the path passed beneath an arch of stone, I stopped, gesturing for Raga and Arayo to pass me. The place was good. The ledge was not too narrow here, and the archway would force enemies to come one at a time. A small number of warriors could hold this position for a long time, until their strength failed, or their luck, or the favor of the gods.
Desperation poured into me through the tie, so fiercely it was all I could do not to turn and run toward Aras. But the first of our enemies had come into sight, moving in a strange gliding, flickering way that was not exactly like the way a living man would move. Other shadow warriors came behind the first. If we ran now, they would tear us down from behind. It was impossible to do anything but face them.
I took care to keep my voice level and my tone calm. “Arayo, I will depend on you to support me. Raga, I will get you a sword, but until then, stay back and be ready to assist Arayo should any enemy get past me.”
They both acknowledged my words, and then the first of the shadow warriors was upon us. The moonlight poured over him and around him and into him; he seemed nearly featureless, almost as though he were the silhouette of a man, except that here and there iridescent colors gleamed along the line of a cheekbone or glittered across half-seen armor or vanished into the black-on-black emptiness of his eyes. His curved sword and his claw weapon drank in the moonlight as though those weapons were holes in the world.
Tarashana Page 37