Black Spice (Book 3) (2 page)

“Yes,
but you know that they are scattered across the forest as the Bantuan are
scattered across the valleys.”

Tonah
looked at Naran.  “When you return with your warriors, we should go south
together and join them as soon as we can.”

Birjen
made a grumbling sound.  “The Manutu have very few hunters, unless you count
those who hunt fruit and nuts in the forest.  No, the monkey people will be of
little use.  The Silasese would be the better choice.  They number even less than
the Bantuan, but they are strong in spirit.  Their sorcerers have power over
wind and waves, and as warriors, their women are fierce as their men.  We
should join forces with them.”

Naran
shook his head.  Without his straw hat his hair was wild and shaggy. 
“Everything could change by the time we gather men and dogs and get back here. 
We might have to decide all over again.  Let’s wait until then.”

Aiyan
made a seated bow.  “I have a question for Prince Mahai,” he said himself in
his pidgin Baskillian.  “How bad did you hurt them?  Could they fight again
right now?”

Mahai
seemed to understand.  “The Hariji are pig hunters.  The Onakai are warriors. 
They were three times our number, yet we killed more of them than they did of
us.”

Aiyan
nodded.  “So he’s lost maybe one-third of his army,” he said aside to Kyric.  “If
he doesn’t have enough prisoners to bring it back to full strength, he’ll have
to look elsewhere, and if he plans to give his blood to every one of them, and
I think he will, then that will give us time.  He can no more afford to lose
his blood than we can ours.”

“Then
you think he is a Knight of the Dragon’s Blood?”

“I
feel strongly that it is so.”

Though
he spoke in Avic, Kyric lowered his voice so that Ellec and Lerica couldn’t
hear.  “If they all take his blood . . . with so many worshiping him, with a
whole army willing to fight to the death for him — gods Aiyan, he could soon be
unstoppable.”

“They
can always be stopped,” Aiyan said.  “I will end this with one stroke if I can
get within sword’s reach of him.  But that won’t be easy.”

Tonah
raised his thumb and two fingers in the sign of the feathered crest and they
all fell quiet.  Kyric had seen this sign used in the village.  It could be a
call for attention, or it could mean that he intended to say something
serious.  And it had other uses he didn’t understand.  Yesterday he had seen a
small group of fishermen having a lively discussion when one of them suddenly
raised the sign above his head.  The others immediately stopped talking and did
the same, and they stood that way, in reverence or in a meditation, for several
minutes.

Tonah
turned to fully face his high priest.  “Ubtarune, I would hear wise words from
you now.”

The
old priest struggled to his feet.  Thin and weathered, he looked like he had
spent a lifetime exposed to the elements — not what Kyric expected of one in a
privileged caste.  “It would be my honor to speak such words, but my wisdom
does not extend beyond spiritual matters.”  As he spoke the bird tattoo on the
side of his face seemed to rustle its wings.  “Tonight I will burn spice and
ask the Powers to send a messenger.  I will make vigil with the great ones who
watch.”

“Your
magic is strong, my friend,” Tonah said.  “I know you will be answered.”  But
he didn’t look convinced.

Aiyan
rose to his feet.  When he began speaking they sat still and listened, even
though they didn’t understand.

“King
Tonah, I have told you that I am a warrior of the clan of the flaming blade.  I
believe that this Soth Garo who has come to your land is one of the men of the
dragon’s blood.  They are our sworn enemies, and if he is one of them, it is my
sacred duty to slay him and release all who are under the spell of his black
blood.  I mean to do this.”

He
let Kyric translate and then continued.  “I will go south and try to engage him
in single combat.  I only ask for your best scout to show me the way.”

Before
Tonah could answer, Mahai butted in.  “I’ll be your guide.”

Aiyan
bowed.  “My thanks.”

“One
of my hunters,” said Tonah, “must go with you as well.  Wait for my son’s
return.”  He looked sidelong at Ubtarune.  “A bird has told me that he is very
near.  Let a spirit time be called for tonight; let it be a night of spice and
smoke.”

Tonah
had the coffee served then, and there was no more debate.  Ellec spoke with him
at length about hiring carpenters to help seat the new mast, and Birjen made a
face over his first sip of cardamom coffee.  Kyric wasn’t surprised.

When
the meeting was over and they stood outside, Ellec motioned for Aiyan to follow
him.  Kyric and Lerica tagged along, Lerica saying, “Well, what do you think
about this Soth Garo and his boys?”

Ellec
shushed her at once, as if the passing Tialuccans would understand, and waved
them along to the harbor, leading them down the dock like a team of horses,
their boots making a hollow clop against the planks.  They reached his cabin
aboard
Calico
, and he closed the door before he said anything.

“This
is very bad, but I think we can replace the mast and get out of here before it
all blows up and rains down upon us.  I wanted to go back with a hold full of
all the different spices, but even if we return with nothing but cardamom,
we’ll still be stupidly rich.  Let’s see.  A few days to get the new mast painted,
sealed, and seated, a couple more for rigging-out and testing — call it a week
before we can set sail.  Certainly we have that much time.”

Lerica
made the sign of the feathered crest, and Kyric couldn’t help but grin.  “These
Baskillians didn’t swim here.  They came on a ship.  I’m betting that it’s
bigger than
Calico
and might even mount a canon or two.”

Ellec
froze.  “Good Goddess.  It could be a war galleon.  But we still have no choice
but to stay the week and finish repairs.”  He snapped his fingers.  “Those
Onakai people, was their home town on the coast like this one?  We have to ask this
Prince Mahai if a strange ship was spotted by anyone.  And I must tell Pallan to
post a watch on the headland — ”

As
he turned to go, Aiyan took hold of his sleeve and spun him back.  He faced
Aiyan with a hard look and a sharp intake of breath that sounded like a hiss.

Aiyan
ignored it.  “Did you not hear what I said in there?”

“This
is my ship,” Ellec said evenly.  “No one touches me on my ship.”

Aiyan
let go of him.  “I didn’t give you those rudders so you could make a quick
trade and run.  My purpose goes far beyond checking the accuracy of the charts
and learning the situation here.”

“I
understand.  Your princess wishes you to make treaties with all the clans, not
just one.  But that’s not going to happen with this island-wide war.”

“I
am not here to negotiate treaties or trade for spice.”

Ellec
raised his hands.  “What then?”

“You
haven’t been listening, Captain.”

Ellec
took a breath then, the glint of gold fever fading in his eyes.  He sat in his
chair.  “You weren’t just telling a story in there.  You really mean to kill
this Baskillian albino.  But you could not have known what was happening, so
what is your true reason for being here?”

“My
order suspected that the men of the dragon’s blood were involved with the
rediscovery of these islands.  We know they gave a copy of the rudders to an
Aevan senator who is now retired and we fear that they will provide another to
the Baskillians if they have not already done so.  And while Princess Aerlyn is
interested in the spice trade, she is more interested in preventing a war
between the empire and the Western states.”

Ellec
sat thoughtful for a moment.  At last he said, “No one will be able to stop
it.  Already it is too late.  It will simply be a matter of time.”

“Then
let it be later rather than sooner.”

“These
poor people,” Lerica said.  “They’ll be caught in the middle of it.”

Ellec
shook his head at that.  He leaned forward and spoke reasonably to Aiyan.  “I
still don’t see what you can do here.  Killing one man may indeed change the
course of this war, or it may not.  Once the ship is repaired, my time here
will be limited.”

“We
had an agreement.”

Ellec
cleared his throat.  “You should be aware of the unwritten law stating that if
your partner starts doing crazy things then all deals are off.”

“Then
do what you need to do,” Aiyan said very quietly.  He was smoldering.  “Be as
mercenary as you like, Captain.  Don’t let me stop you.”

Kyric
had wanted to tell Lerica something for some time now.  Maybe this was the time
for Ellec to hear it too.

“Tell
him the story,” he said to Aiyan.  “Tell him of Cauldin and Aumgradmal, of the
Pyxidium and the Flame.”

Aiyan
considered it for a moment.  “That’s not for outsiders.”

“Most
outsiders wouldn’t believe or understand it.  But Ellec and Lerica would, and
you know that.”

Aiyan
sat down and leaned back against the bulkhead.  “Alright.  Go ahead and tell
it.”

Kyric
swallowed.  “Me?”

“Yes. 
We all have to tell it sooner or later.”

So
he did.  It seemed to Kyric that it came out dry and unadorned, clearly lacking
the drama of Aiyan’s version.  That’s not fair, he thought.  He knew all the
poetry of the Eddur, yet he could find no music in his own words.  He didn’t
have Aiyan’s knack for theatre, and public speaking was the one thing the good
sisters never made him practice.

The
telling made him sweaty.  Aiyan helped him through a few parts he would have
had to gloss over.  Ellec made noises in his throat the whole time, but Lerica
was so quiet you couldn’t hear her breathe.  When he had finished, Ellec simply
stood and walked out of the cabin.  Lerica stared at the deck, as if
long-expected bad news had finally come.

Aiyan
went out on deck and they followed, Lerica still not meeting Kyric’s eye. 
“What’s wrong?” he whispered to her.

“Nothing,”
she said, forcing a thin smile.  “Only . . . you should have told me that story
before we crossed the line.”

Ellec
stood at the rail watching the setting sun turn a deep red.  It touched the
horizon, throwing a bloody light across the sea  Aiyan stood next to him and
gazed down the empty shoreline.  The Tialuccans had gone home to prepare for
the evening.

At
last Ellec said, “What do you want from me?”

“Just
stick around for a while.”

Ellec
turned to face him.  “Alright.  For a while.”

Kyric
held Lerica’s hand as they strolled the town.  A tall torch stood in front of
every house, the flames fanned by the nighttime breeze.  Small handfuls of
people moved from place to place, and streams of smoke trailed from the sticks
of incense they all carried.  They stood talking in doorways, or in the rock
gardens, or around the pavilion in the middle of town where Ubtarune had held a
brief ceremony before heading off alone to watch with the bird heads.  Several
groups clustered around fires, where they tossed palm leaves and cardamom pods
into the flames to produce a thick, scented smoke.  But it was no festival. 
There was no food or drink, only smoke, and everyone spoke quietly, their
gestures subdued.  It was like they all shared a thought, but Kyric had no idea
what it might be.

They
wandered toward the inlet, making their way to the beach where some older
teenagers had their own fire.  They opened a space in their circle, and Kyric
suddenly realized that he had passed from that world some time ago.  It was less
than a week till winter solstice, and three days after that he would turn
twenty-one.

The
tide was halfway out.  He led Lerica down to the water and they walked on the
firm wet sand.  Beyond the beach, a stream running down from the highlands
skirted against Tiahnu Rock before it spilled over a ledge and into the sea. 
The great fist of stone towered over them in the dark.  The wind died and
cardamom smoke billowed around them in a torch-lit haze.

“Every
so often,” said Lerica, “I suddenly feel that all of this is not real.  That we
couldn’t have sailed so far, that we couldn’t be standing here on one of the
lost Spice Islands.”

“That
happens to me too, but usually when I’m looking at you.  I say to myself, how
could a girl this beautiful want anything to do with me?”

Lerica
smiled but shook her head.  “I’m not curvy enough to be beautiful.  My hair is
brittle and salt dried, and my voice is rough from yelling at sailors.  Look at
me.  There’s nothing girly about me.  I’m just a grown-up tomboy.”

“You
don’t seem to feel that way when I’m in your bed.”

She
smiled again, wistfully.  “No.  You make me feel . . . very desirable.”

“Then
why haven’t you wanted me to. . . . “

“I
don’t know.”

“Are
you afraid of getting pregnant?”

She
dropped his hand and straightened.  “You dumb ass.  If it were possible for us,
I would surely be knocked-up by now.  You men are all so stupid.  You leave it
to us to know the time to abstain, never counting days yourselves, then you
complain when we do.”

Kyric
turned to her.  “What do you mean
if it were possible for us
?”

She
looked away.  “I can only be given a child by a man of my clan.”

“Then
you really are
Ariaen’kahta
.  You might have told me
that
before
we crossed the line.”

She
frowned.  “Where on Aerth did you hear — .”  She stopped and shook her head.  “I
keep forgetting your education.  You would be a warrior scholar, like in the
olden days.”

He
shrugged.

“You’re
going with Aiyan, aren’t you?  You’re going to help him kill Soth Garo.”

“Yes.”

She
waved the smoke away from her face.  “You’ll
always
go with him, won’t
you?  Even if we all get rich from this.  You’ll go with him even if it kills
you.”

He
didn’t know what to say to her.  “Why do we have to be so serious tonight?”

“We’ve
caught the mood of the Tialuccans,” she said, making the feathered crest. 
“This is a night of spice and smoke.”

“So
I guess going back to your cabin right now is a bad idea.”

“No,”
she said, taking his arm, “it isn’t.”

They
followed a seaside path back to the dock, passing racks where fishing nets
hung, getting there just as Prince Mahai came into the torchlight from the
opposite direction.  He dripped water from his long mane of hair and his rolled
pajama shorts, which was all he had on, and he carried an odd weapon — a piece
of ivory the size of Kyric’s leg, slightly bent and sharpened on the inside
angle, with a hand span of shark’s teeth at the business end.

Kyric
didn’t know what to do.  Since the man was a prince, he bowed.

Mahai
walked up to him.  “Bowing is more for indoors around here.  Most of us just
wave at each other when we meet.”

Kyric
was surprised at the conversational way Mahai spoke Baskillian.  Tonah and his
court used the more formal form.

“I
know,” Kyric said.  “But I thought that since you were a prince. . . . “

“There
is no Onakai nation any longer.  I don’t think I can call myself a prince.”

“King
Tonah does,” Kyric said, “and that’s good enough for me.”

“Okay,
but no more bowing.”  Mahai said, serious, but in an innocent way.

“Did
you see Ubtarune out on the headland?  Is he still sitting on top of that empty
pole, surrounded by all those bird heads?”

“I
didn’t go that far.  I went down to where the waves are gentle, so I could
speak with my clan spirit.  But I’m sure that he’s still there.  These priests
usually have to torture themselves for days before they hear the call.”

They
shared a brief smile at that and Kyric clearly felt the moment, though he
couldn’t give it a name.  Mahai said goodnight and went on his way.

Kyric shook his head as they stepped
onto
Calico
’s plank.  How could a man see his family and nation
slaughtered and still be capable of a smile?  How could he go on at all?  He
too carried an inner fire, and that had been the name of the moment.

Aiyan
knocked on the cabin door as two rings sounded from the ship’s bell.  “No
practice today,” he called.  “We head inland as soon as I can see King Tonah. 
Dress appropriately.”

Two
bells in the morning watch, Kyric thought foggily.  Five o’clock.  It had been
nice of Aiyan to let them sleep in.

Lerica
rolled over and wrapped her arms around his waist.  “One more bell,” she
murmured.

Last
night still echoed inside him.  Lerica’s passion had been a breaking tempest, a
storm at sea, and with each of his caresses the winds grew wilder, at last
overwhelming him.  Their kisses were desperate, more frightening than the fears
they sought to push away.  He pressed against her and she pulled back hard, as
close as they could be and wanting to be closer still.  Then there was calm in
her eye.

He
sat up and lit the lantern.  “Can’t.  I have to go to work.”

After
a quick breakfast and a sunrise dip in the ocean, Kyric packed all the food and
water he could carry and assembled his weapons.  He found his bow-sling, and
the extra string for his bow.  Aiyan had given him eighteen arrows, which
wasn’t bad.  His sword held an excellent edge, but the wheel-lock had been
loaded and ready for too long.  He drew the load by hand.  It was a pain, but
gods knew the uproar he would cause if he fired two shots right now.  Once he
had cleaned the barrels and reloaded, he carefully wound the springs.

He
started to leave the ship. 
Armor
. 
Of course
.  Aiyan hadn’t had
it made for practice.  It was for this.  When he opened the locker where it was
kept, he laughed.  Aiyan had not only taken his hardened vest, he had taken a
nut helmet as well.  Then Kyric thought about Prince Mahai’s war club and
stopped laughing.  He took the other helmet.

He
found Aiyan pacing a rut into the street in front of King Tonah’s house.  He
was dressed for battle, complete with his longbow.

“Prince
Caleem has come back,” Aiyan said.  “He arrived in the middle of the night and
the house has been closed tight since then.  No one has gone in or out all
morning.”  He stopped and stood still.  “The rumor is that his band was
ambushed and he was the sole survivor.”

Ellec
and Lerica joined them a few minutes later, and they waited with hats and
helmets in hand until Tonah’s nephew at last opened the door.

King
Tonah sat on his mat speaking with Ilara and Prince Mahai.  No one else was
there.  They said their good mornings and Aiyan got straight to business.

“We
have heard that your son has returned.  Would it be possible for us to talk to
him?”

Tonah
shook his head.  “Not now.  He is resting.  He was very tired and had been
injured.  But Ilara sang a healing song to him, so he will be better very soon. 
I spoke with him at length last night.  I can tell you what he discovered.”

“Is
it true,” said Aiyan, “that all were killed but him?”

Tonah
nodded slowly.  “It is.  Some of them were good friends.”  He shifted on his
mat to sit cross-legged.

“There
is not much to tell.  My son led the hunters through Manutu land, following the
long western vale.  When he came to the end, he met some men who traded with a
nearby Hariji settlement.  They told him that the Hariji hunters had gone to
join a great war band.  Caleem and his men continued southward, slipping
through the wooded pass.  They saw no Hariji for a full day.  Caleem could not
know that Soth Garo’s army was close, on its way to attack the Onakai.  They
stumbled upon a large band of Hariji hunters, led by a Baskillian who carried a
long powder weapon — “

“Firearm,”
Mahai prompted.

“Firearm,”
continued Tonah, “and a necklace of human bones.  They tried to run but some of
the Hariji had got behind them.  They fought well but were slaughtered.  By
good chance, Caleem was knocked out and fell into some thick underbrush.  When
he awoke, they were beating the bush, looking for him, so he crawled away.”

“I
don’t like the tale or the timing,” Aiyan said to Kyric, under his breath. 
“And we don’t know any more than we did.”

“The
timing?”

“The
story doesn’t really account for a fifteen-day absence.”

Tonah
sat waiting.  Aiyan said to him, “I am prepared to go and confront Soth Garo. 
I will leave at once.”

Tonah
held up a hand.  “You will not.  Caleem must go with you, and he will not be
ready until tomorrow.”

Aiyan
thought about his next words for a moment.  “It is not necessary that your son
should suffer the hardship of traveling with us after his wounding and long
journey home.  Surely Mahai can serve as your eyes and ears.”

“Caleem
must be allowed to complete his task.  He will go with you.”

Aiyan
began to protest again, but Ellec shot him a sharp look.

“So
will I,” said Lerica.

They
all looked at her.

“We’ll
talk about this later,” Ellec said.

Lerica’s
eyes flashed, and she made the sign of the feathered crest.  King Tonah raised
it at once, and so did Ilara and Mahai.  Slowly, Kyric held up the sign as
well, feeling that he was on the edge of a waking dream, and they sat there,
breathing in the scent of cardamom, staring inward in their unnamed,
inexpressible reverie.