Freedom's Apprentic

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Freedom's Apprentic Page 24

by Naomi Kritzer


  “A palanquin?” Alisher said in frank disbelief when I scrambled back down to the cave. “It’s not something you just throw together!”

  “With a djinn . . .”

  “Maybe you can have it go steal one,” Tamar said, her voice a little doubtful.

  “I’d rather not,” I said. “The sorceress might send djinni of her own to come looking.”

  It was back. “Boradai has sent me to you,” it said. “She says to do whatever you ask, other than to slay someone.”

  “First, find me a wagon,” I said. “Just beyond the windward wall of Elpisia there is a place where the army leaves things that are broken past repair. Find me a wagon, or something like it—a big box made of wood. Big enough to hold twenty people if they’re crammed in tight. Sturdy enough that it won’t fall apart in the air. If you see one, pick it up and bring it to me, and set it carefully on the ground over there. If you don’t see one, come right back here.”

  The djinn vanished, and we waited.

  “This isn’t going to work,” Alisher said.

  Then, in the distance, we saw it. “The guards in Helladia are going to see it,” he added.

  “It’s too dark,” Tamar said. “Besides, we’re a long way from there, I don’t think they’d see it even in daylight.”

  “It’s going to drop it on our heads!”

  “No, that would go against its instructions . . .”

  There was a great crash and rattle as the djinn set the wagon down into the brush. I climbed up to examine it. The boards were loose and the sides were partially rotted; the wheels, of course, were totally useless. For our purposes, I thought it would serve. “Now we need fabric,” I said.

  “It’s not going to look like a sorceress’s palanquin,” Tamar said.

  “It doesn’t have to pass for one up close. It just has to fool the guards who catch glimpses of it.”

  Tamar nodded thoughtfully. “Send the djinn back to Boradai,” she said. “She’ll be able to send us cloth.”

  The djinn vanished with my message and I turned to Alisher. “What do you need to make this safe to ride in? If it’s being carried by a djinn?”

  He inspected it—skeptically, but after a moment he took out his tools. “It’s warped out of shape but should hold together. I’ll just knock a few boards back into place . . .”

  The djinn returned with yards and yards of fine cloth. I unrolled it and wrapped the wagon; Alisher used a few small fasteners to pin it into place. We mounted a couple of sapling trees like tent poles at the corners of the wagon, and pulled the fabric over the top like a roof. When we were done, it was a clumsy, bright thing, but from a distance—in the dark—it would pass as a palanquin easily.

  “Right,” I said to the djinn. “Take this to Boradai. If it has to make multiple trips, it can—no one’s going to get in the way when they think a sorceress is involved. Carry it gently and set it down carefully.”

  The djinn whisked off the makeshift palanquin; watching it go, my doubts were calmed. It was dark enough that it was barely visible. Even once the sun came up, it would be a tiny dot of vivid color up in the sky, just like any other palanquin.

  We waited.

  And there it was, coming back. It touched down lightly and two dozen former slaves stumbled out, none people I knew. No harem slaves. Some looked like they were dressed for stable work, others like they had worked in the kitchen. All were jumpy and confused. “Tamar!” one of the women exclaimed, spotting her. “Where have you been? What’s going on?”

  “What happened?” Tamar asked her.

  “Boradai woke us up a few hours ago and herded us into Sophos’s dining room to keep an eye on us. Boradai had Sophos’s spell-chain and she said we all needed to just sit tight and she’d get us out of there. And then she made us get into the wagon—” The woman clutched at Tamar’s arm in horror. “It was carried by a bound djinn, Athena save us all. But it didn’t drop us, and here we are.”

  “I think it’s going to take two more trips,” Tamar said to me. “Can we send it right back?”

  I nodded. “Go ahead,” I said to the djinn, and it picked up the palanquin, vanishing quickly from sight.

  “Now what?” one of the slaves was asking. “Now what are we supposed to do?”

  “It’s up to you,” I said. “If you could reach the Alashi safely, would you like to join them?”

  There was a pause, and one of the older stable hands asked softly, “Would they take me? At my age?”

  “I don’t think your age will matter,” Tamar said.

  “I had a brother go to the Alashi, years ago,” he said. “At least, I like to think he made it.”

  “What if we don’t want to?” asked the servant who’d known Tamar.

  “What if we liked things the way they were?” asked another, her voice surly.

  “They’re never going to be the way they were,” Tamar said. “You’re part of a slave revolt now, like it or not. But if what you really want is to be a slave again, well, we’ll see what we can do. And if you don’t want to join the Alashi, you could head south on your own and look for work. Just be careful, because if you’re recognized . . .”

  Muttering. The palanquin was back. “Boradai is getting nervous,” reported one of the men as he climbed out. “She thinks one more trip will do it.”

  No harem slaves in this load, either. We sent it back and waited.

  “I wish I’d gone with it,” Tamar muttered. “I hate waiting.”

  There was nothing for it, though. I looked at the eastern sky, wondering how close we were to dawn. The horizon still looked dark to me, but it couldn’t be that much longer. And once they’re all here, morning will be very close. So then what? Hide them all here through the day, or start straight into the desert? We’ll be pathetically easy to spot . . . I started trying to calculate whether we could have the djinn steal one of the huge sky-boats used by merchant companies like the one Zivar backed. With one of those, we could take everyone to the Alashi in one trip.

  There: the palanquin was returning. Everyone fell silent as it descended; it was overloaded, I realized when I saw the sides bulging from misplaced elbows, and when it touched the ground one of the boards split with a crack that made everyone jump. But the harem slaves spilled out, along with some strangers. And last of all, Boradai.

  She was as ugly as I remembered, but her pockmarked face held vivid triumph. One hand clutched the glittering spell-chain. She strode forward, looped the spell-chain around her neck, and said, “You’d better not have lied about Alisher.”

  He had been half hidden behind the crowd of servants; now he stepped out shyly. They didn’t rush into each other’s arms; he was too reserved for that, and she was too proud. But her eyes grew very soft, and he swallowed hard. They clasped hands and did not let go.

  Meanwhile, Tamar greeted the other harem slaves. I remembered a few from my time there: Jaran, the shaman; Meruert, who now held a plump baby in her arms; Aislan, the old “favorite,” who looked bewildered and not entirely pleased at this turn of events.

  Jaran approached Tamar, a faint smile on his face. “I have a present for you,” he said, and held out a leather sack.

  Tamar opened it and recoiled as she looked inside, then swallowed hard. “Lauria, I’d say this is for you, too,” she said, and upended it. Something roundish hit the ground with a soft thud; it took me a disconcerted, horrified moment to realize that it was Sophos’s head. Sightless eyes open, mouth agape.

  I sucked in my breath; my first reaction was simple horror and disgust. It rolled toward me as it landed and I jumped back a step, which made Jaran chuckle drily. I realized that I was shaking—not just my hands, but my whole body. Dead, he’s dead, he’s dead. And I didn’t get to kill him.

  I looked up to meet Jaran’s eyes. It was Jaran who killed him; that was why Jaran had had the privilege of carrying the head to Tamar. Despite his snicker a moment ago, he was regarding me with curiosity and at least a hint of respect. I was not
Sophos’s only victim, I thought, and wondered if Tamar regretted not having been the one to kill him. She’s probably just glad that he’s dead. I’m glad he’s dead, foul rapist that he was.

  “Thank you for the gift,” I said, and my voice was steady.

  “You’re welcome,” Jaran said, and his look now was a little questioning. Sophos’s nose was against the dirt; with his toe, Jaran rolled the head so that it faced the sky. “I waited until he was done with me, then cut his throat when he was, you know, in a fine mood and ready for a good night’s sleep. It was the sort of opportunity that only a concubine would have.”

  “You had a knife,” I said.

  “Thanks to Boradai.”

  I nodded.

  Meruert stepped over the head to embrace Tamar and give her a kiss on the cheek. I saw Aislan on the fringes of the crowd of escaped slaves, trying to hide her obvious fear. Her eyes narrowed with puzzlement when she saw Alisher, then widened when she saw Tamar. When they swept over me, I saw only vague puzzlement; I was fairly certain she didn’t recognize me at all.

  “How safe are we here?” I asked Boradai.

  “The guards from town will probably come into the house looking for Sophos soon,” Boradai said, her eyes glinting. “They’ll be like sheep without a shepherd, though, for a while, running around. Most of his officers were at dinner last night. We killed them all.”

  I glanced at Aislan, wondering if her officer had been among the slaughtered.

  “Where are you taking us?” one of the other servants asked.

  “Yes, and why? None of us are worth a great deal . . .”

  “My daughter lives back in Helladia. Can you go get her, too?”

  I gestured for silence and after a few moments was able to get everyone’s attention. “Look. You’re free. We freed you. You can do whatever you want right now. If you’d like to join the Alashi, we’ll get you to the Alashi. If you’d rather be a slave, we can figure something out. If you don’t want to be a slave and you’d rather not join the Alashi, well, we can probably figure something out there, too. Think about it.”

  There was an outbreak of chatter. I went to speak with Boradai, who still held Alisher’s hand. She was the keeper of the spell-chain. Whatever we ended up doing, we were going to need her help if we wanted to use the djinn.

  “Jaran said there was another option,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at me.

  “Yes.” I glanced around. “Let’s go for a little walk. I don’t want to be overheard.”

  Alisher came along, of course; so did Tamar. “You’ve heard it said that sorceresses can be either the best mistresses, or the worst,” I said. Boradai nodded. “There are some with no family to keep an eye on things, whose servants keep an eye on them instead. Tamar and I met one, down in Casseia. Her servants confided that there is a conspiracy of such servants. I could . . . put you in touch with the servant we met. She could arrange for you to become the housekeeper, I think, of a sorceress. Then it would be up to you to manage things to keep her alive and in line. It’s a task I think you would be good at.”

  “What do these servants want?” Alisher asked. “I mean, eventually.”

  “They want the Empire, I think. They expect to rule it through ruling the Weavers. I don’t know when.” I thought about Tamar’s comment that the Alashi would not benefit from an Empire with reasonable rulers, then shrugged it off. Tamar wasn’t saying anything, so I wasn’t going to worry about it.

  “Alternately, while you hold your spell-chain, you could go anywhere. You could resettle in some foreign land, you could become merchant traders . . . the spell-chain gives you many options, if you aren’t afraid to use it.”

  “I’m not afraid of much,” Boradai said, her hand caressing the beads.

  “No,” I said. “I can see that.”

  We walked back to rejoin the group and I drifted from cluster to cluster, listening. Some were eager to go to the Alashi and trying to persuade their more timid companions that they would love life among the bandits. Others were depressed, some crying. “How could she,” I heard someone saying. “He trusted her, trusted her more than any Greek should probably ever trust a slave . . .”

  I looked at Boradai. “You could have done this years ago,” I said.

  “True,” she said. “But I didn’t know where to find Alisher. Sophos made noises, occasionally, about buying him back, if I worked hard enough. I knew he was probably lying, but there was always that hope. Even if I found him and somehow got him out, I couldn’t see myself among the bandits—learning to ride horseback, at my age. I couldn’t get the necklace without killing Sophos, and I wasn’t the one with the best opportunities. And I wouldn’t have chosen to involve anyone else. Too messy, too complicated.”

  “It worked, though.”

  “Yes. Every concubine had a knife last night, save for Aislan.”

  “You were quite sure none would put it in your back, then.”

  “Oh, no, I kept a careful watch on my back. But they weren’t fools. They did as they were told.”

  The eastern sky was lightening to gray. I strode back over to where the rest of the slaves waited. “Right,” I said. “If you know for sure that you want to join the Alashi, go stand over by that tree.” I pointed.

  Jaran strode over, unhesitating. Meruert tagged after him a moment later, then a large group followed. Then a few others, one at a time, like lost sheep looking for the comfort of their herd. The Alashi are going to want to kill both me and Tamar for this, I thought.

  There were perhaps twenty left. One was Aislan.

  “Where would you like to go?” I asked them.

  “I’d like to go back to Helladia,” Aislan said.

  Her officer must be alive, I thought. There was an outburst of fury from the slaves who wanted to join the Alashi. “You’ll need to wait a few days,” I said. She inclined her head. “And I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  “I don’t need your guarantees,” she said.

  “Right. The rest of you?”

  Three of them had some idea about starting a merchant company. They were going to head south. Six more didn’t know what they were going to do, but seemed to think that they’d be able to come up with something. At least it wasn’t winter, so they wouldn’t freeze to death. “Steer clear of Elpisia,” I advised them.

  There were eight slaves who wanted to remain slaves, and one more who simply didn’t care what we did with him: we could abandon him to the mercy of the Helladia garrison, it seemed, or sell him to the mine; he didn’t care. The first eight pleaded with us to find them a kind master, someone who would take care of them when they were old and sick. There were calls of derision from the Alashi-bound ex-slaves, and one of the eight burst into tears.

  “How the hell are we going to manage this?” Tamar asked me. “Are we seriously going to, you know, sell them into slavery?”

  “I guess we’d better. I don’t know how else we’re going to find them a kind master.” I thought about Solon, and his treatment of Burkut. Maybe we could send them to Solon. Actually, that wasn’t a half-bad idea, except that they clearly would never make it on their own. I couldn’t very well take them there myself. Maybe Tamar could do it.

  That left nearly forty people who needed to get to the Alashi. I turned to Boradai. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “You want me to use the spell-chain, don’t you,” she said.

  “Yes. Two more trips with the palanquin.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to make it. It’s falling apart.”

  “Maybe we can have the djinn steal a wagon from the garrison. Or from Sophos; he had a wagon. What ever happened to Elubai, anyway?”

  “Coughed himself to death, last winter. Sophos’s wagon would work. We don’t have to worry now about the garrison realizing that something is wrong in Sophos’s house, but someone might watch to see where it goes . . .” Her eyes went absent and she touched the spell-chain. The djinn appeared, hovering in the air. “First
, don’t hurt anyone. If you’d have to hurt anyone completing my instructions, then stop and come back here. Now, back at Sophos’s house, there’s a squat stone building with a broken door. Inside is a wagon. Go get the wagon. Pull it out, then lift it into the air. Take it high in the air—above the clouds. Once it’s above the clouds, carry it to us. Don’t bring anyone with it. If there’s someone inside it then leave and come back. Don’t damage the wagon. Set it down as gently as you can, on the flat spot of ground over there.” She glanced at me, as if to see whether I had anything to add, then said, “Go now, and perform my instructions.”

  “You’re very good at that,” I said.

  “I’ve spent years managing slaves,” she said.

  It took a long time for the djinn to set the wagon down, once it was in sight. “As gently as you can” was apparently “so carefully and slowly that it will take a full hour to make the final landing.” It was full day by now, but there were clouds, heavy with spring rain. I thought they’d burn off by noon, though. We’d best hurry.

  “I think we can get twenty people in there if they pack in tightly,” Boradai said. “They’re not going to like sitting on the edge as it flies through the air, though.”

  “They’ll manage,” I said.

  “Someone’s going to have to ride along to tell it where to go,” Boradai said. “That’s not going to be me.”

  “I’ll do it,” I said.

  Boradai shrugged. “All right. And then I will have repaid you for my freedom, and Alisher’s—by helping you to free the rest.” She spoke firmly, but the question lurked in her eyes.

  I nodded. “The debt will be repaid.” And now let’s do this, and do it fast. I rounded up twenty of the former slaves and everyone climbed into the wagon, sitting on the floor or on the laps of their friends. “We’re going up to the steppe,” I said. “Last chance to stay behind.”

  No one moved.

  “The djinn is going to carry us up. If you’re going to die of fear, then climb out now.”

  Murmurs, but no one moved.

  I had to sit on the wagon seat, to see down and direct the djinn. I climbed on and sat down. This is no good. I could fall off. I borrowed some of the cloth from the old makeshift palanquin and tied myself on, wrapping the silk around my middle and testing it with a tug. Tamar came over and bound it a little more securely, then pinned it in place with a brooch shaped like a tree. I blinked at it, then remembered where it had come from: it was the brooch given to us back in Daphnia by the crazy sorceress who wanted to buy our karenite. “Hurry back,” she whispered.

 

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