Golden Daughter (14 page)

With a sigh, Tu Syed addressed himself to Sairu. “You see? The Besur does not want us to risk Lady Hariawan’s safety among slavers.”

“Just as he did not want us to risk her safety among the Chhayan bandits who abound in the plains behind us?” Sairu said. “How thrilling.”

“We daren’t make that climb without assistance,” Tu Syed insisted, though his voice dropped to a hesitant whisper now. After all, he didn’t want to risk the girl suddenly proclaiming all his closest secrets to the company present. Perish the thought! “It would—it would be hazardous to the wellbeing of Lady Hariawan.”

This, Tu Syed knew, was his only weapon. But it was a sharp one. In the last months, he had seen how Sairu cared for her mistress with a consideration and concern far beyond that of a normal handmaiden. Which was quite nonsensical, really! Who took
that
much care for a temple girl?

The argument worked, however. Sairu’s smile faded, and she turned her attention to Lady Hariawan, who sat by the campfire, staring into it without seeing. Sticky Bun lay belly-up beside her, snoring as he slept, his little paws twitching now and then as he chased invisible prey. Dumpling and Rice Cake piled atop each other nearby, their tawny coats indistinguishable from one another so that they looked like one lumpy, two-headed dog.

Sairu drew a long breath, making certain she inhaled silently so that Tu Syed would not hear and guess at her frustration. After all, they did not know if the messages had gotten through. How many carrier doves could the Besur have from Daramuti, a remote mountain temple? Two, maybe three at most? And what was the likelihood that any had survived the return journey?

She did a quick calculation and frowned at the conclusion she reached. But at the same time, while the “Chhayan bandits” had proved fanciful enough, she knew for certain that slavers did, in fact, use this mountain trail and use it often. She had already spotted signs which the others had not even thought to look for. Not least of which was a pair of manacles lying in the brush where they had been tossed from the road. Manacles still wrapped around boney wrists from a pair of severed hands. The flesh on those hands had long since rotted away, leaving only bare bone that stood out to Sairu like a beacon.

Only slavers could be so cruel to their property. She wondered momentarily what had happened to the poor mutilated slave. Had they bound up his wounds and sold him to the mills, where he could pull a chain attached to his waist and shoulders and still earn back whatever the price paid for him? Or did the rest of his remains lie somewhere along the road through the Khir Mountains?

She shuddered. So much life, beautiful life, teemed beyond Manusbau’s walls. But where there was life, there was death as well.

“We will wait,” she said, “We will wait until dawn the day after tomorrow. Then, if no one comes, we will continue.”

Tu Syed frowned at her tone of command. After all, who had put her in charge of the decision-making? Nevertheless he bowed, murmured thanks, and backed away, temporarily relieved.

Sairu remained where she stood, hands folded demurely, head tilted, gazing up the road into the forest, into the mountains. Somewhere in those heights nestled Daramuti, the site of Lady Hariawan’s rest. If Lady Hariawan could ever truly rest.

Suddenly she saw movement in the brush. Another might have mistaken the flash of red for the coat of a fox gone a-hunting, but Sairu knew better. She had seen that same flash, caught glimpses of that same shadow far too many times in the last few months to doubt what she saw now.

“Dumpling!” she cried.

Instantly her pack alpha was on his feet, disentangling himself from Rice Cake, and running with all the speed of his stubby legs to her side. Rice Cake and Sticky Bun righted themselves with snorts and growls and followed their intrepid leader. All three caught the scent, and Sairu did not need to issue a command. The lion dogs threw themselves into the brush in swift pursuit, following the trail of the cat. Sairu hastened after.

“Where are you going?” Tu Syed called desperately behind her, but she ignored him, disappearing into the thick green of the foothills, climbing and stumbling and hastening as fast as she could, following the barks of her dogs, who followed their enemy.

This time, she told herself, this time they would succeed! Many times in the last few months they had repeated this same chase, but always the demon somehow, even when cornered beyond all hope of escape, disappeared. Once, right before her very eyes. One moment she had looked into that wicked face and those bright golden eyes . . . the next, it was gone.

Devil’s work, she knew. Devil’s work and devil’s luck! But not this time. This time she would catch him.

She was gaining on the dogs now and knew they must have their quarry cornered, possibly treed. With renewed vigor she pushed forward, tripping over low brambles, ignoring how branches cut at her face and arms. One hand plunged into the thick folds of her sleeve and withdrew grasping a bright knife. She was close now. The barks were an uproar of viciousness.

Then suddenly a man’s deep voice barked in answer: “Away, you craven, hasty-witted hedge-pigs! Ger-off me, you pribbling, motley-minded wag-tails!”

The lion dogs’ barks changed to squeals of dismay.

Sairu felt her heart stop. For a moment she froze where she was. But the next, all three furry bodies barreled past her, tuck-tailed and terrified, but apparently unscathed. Relieved, Sairu’s heart thudded back into motion. Then she ground her teeth and hurried on, determined not to lose her prey. For half a second she thought she saw the form and shadow of a man through a curtain of green boughs.

Then she pushed through, stumbled, and found herself looking down into the smug face of an orange cat.

“You!” she cried.

“Hullo,” said the cat. “Took you long enough.”

The demon sat beneath a wild Katuru tree, its heart-shaped leaves casting delicate shadows across his face and body. Little one-winged seed pods fell in twirls from the high branches, and for a moment he looked quite magical and solemn and beautiful.

He purred like the cat who had not only got the cream but also knocked the creamer over, destroying a silk tablecloth in the process.

Sairu took a threatening step but paused even as she adjusted her grip on her dagger. She knew how quickly he could move, how in an instant he could disappear as though he stepped from this world into another in the blink of an eye. But she was done being stalked, and she was determined not to lose him this time. So while longing to lunge at him and stick that fluffy tail on the end of her blade, she kept herself in check.

And she smiled. “Have I kept you waiting?”

“Absolutely,” the demon replied. “I’ve been skulking about, trying to catch your attention for
hours
now, but you were so caught up in your mortal business, you didn’t notice.” He stood, his tail lashing the air irritably, and took a pace toward her. “But really, setting your dogs on me? Again? After all we’ve been through?”

“What exactly have we been through?”

“Um, I don’t know about you, but I’d count nearly three months of hard travel across wide and wild mortal countryside as rather much.”

“We are not traveling companions,” said Sairu.

“Speak for yourself.”

“One of these days, my dogs will catch you.”

“I’d like to see them tr—no. No, I take that back. I’ve seen them try plenty, thank you, and would prefer if you called them off entirely. Before I’m obliged to do something
drastic
.”

Sairu narrowed her eyes. “I’ve never seen them in such a state. I’ve never seen them afraid. What did you do to them just now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” purred the cat.

“I would,” said she, carefully lifting and placing another foot. He was watching her too closely, however, and moved along with every move of hers so that they circled each other at achingly slow speed. The Katuru tree watched and rustled its leaves and dropped more seed pods.

“You’ll just have to wonder then,” said the devil-cat. “We have more pressing matters to attend to at this moment. For instance, that guide you’re waiting for? He’s not coming.”

Gently Sairu slipped her free hand up into the opposite sleeve, withdrawing another knife from hiding. “Oh, isn’t he? How sad. I suppose we’ll have to continue on our way without him.”

“If you do that, you’re sure to make a swift and sorry end,” said the devil-cat, his gaze flicking from one knife to the other.

“I know how to handle myself,” Sairu said.

The devil-cat laid his ears back, disgusted. “Arrogant miss, aren’t you? Don’t you hear what I’m telling you? Your guide isn’t coming because he
didn’t
make it
. Your guide who knows this road better than you ever will—though I won’t say he knows it well, because no one seems altogether at ease in these mountains. They aren’t friendly mountains. Were I in the Between, I wouldn’t go anywhere
near
them, and they’re bad enough on
this
side, even mostly asleep. You’ll need a guide to make it through, but you’ll not have this fellow because he was taken by slavers. Not five miles up the road, in fact.”

While the cat talked, Sairu had brought herself very slowly into a partial crouch, preparing for a spring. But she stopped now, and her smile slipped lopsided. “Slavers?”

“Indeed. As nasty a collection of brutes as you ever did see. On their return journey from Nua-Pratut with a couple of leftovers who didn’t make the sales. And now they’ve taken your guide and will try their luck in rural Noorhitam and on to Aja.”

The devil-cat sat then and began to groom one white paw as though he hadn’t a care in the world, much less an armed threat crouching but a few feet away, ready to attack. He licked five times then chewed at his toes, purring as he did so. When quite through, he placed that paw neatly beside its mate and blinked up at Sairu.

It was like having her own smile turned back upon her. Sairu shuddered and, for the first time in her life, felt sympathy for all those upon whom she’d inflicted that very look.

“Well,” said she, “we’ll have to rescue him, I suppose.”

Much to her surprise, the cat stood up, one forepaw neatly curled in mid-step. “I was hoping you’d say that! Shall we be on our way then?”

Tu Syed’s heart leapt with terror at the sudden crashing in the woods off the road. He sprang to his feet, swearing by Anwar and as many of the starry host as he could name.

But it was just the girl returning from her ramble.

“By all the holy lights above us!” Tu Syed exclaimed as she burst into their encampment, her three dogs at her heels. “Where the devil have you been? Lady Hariawan was . . . was . . .”

Tu Syed was a truthful man at heart. He couldn’t bring himself to say that Lady Hariawan had been worried. Indeed, Lady Hariawan had been nothing of the sort. She had been practically comatose as always: upright, cross-legged, head bent, and breathing deep the whole time Sairu was gone. Tu Syed and his cohorts had been the worriers. And it was they who felt waves of relief at the handmaiden’s return, like a nest full of starlings lifting their beaks to the return of their mother. Tu Syed covered his relief with scowls and bluster. “You have no right to simply—”

“No time! No time!” Sairu gasped as she neared the camp. She scooped up Dumpling and dumped him unceremoniously in the slave’s startled arms. “Hold him. Don’t let him follow me. The others will obey him, but you’ve got to keep him with you.”

“What?” Tu Syed stammered, his stomach jumping inside with renewed terror. “You can’t leave us! The sun will soon set, and then—”

“I’ll be back before dawn,” Sairu said, casting a quick glance Lady Hariawan’s way. But Lady Hariawan still had not moved and made no indication that she would move for many hours yet. Sairu fixed Tu Syed with a stern eye. “Make certain she does not get cold.”

Then she ran, back toward the forest of the lower foothills, her pilgrim’s robes flying behind her. Dumpling yipped and wriggled in Tu Syed’s arms, but he held the beast tight, and the other two sat whining at his feet. “Where are you going?” he shouted after her retreating back.

Over her shoulder she called, “To find our guide!” and vanished into the greenery.

Sairu pushed her way quickly down the trail she had made for herself, following the broken branches and undergrowth she had bent her first time coming this way. She nearly ran over the demon-cat, who appeared suddenly in her path.

“Are we well rid of the hedge-pigs?” the demon-cat asked, springing out of her way and crouching low, tail lashing.

Sairu did not bother to answer what the cat could clearly see and smell for himself. “Lead on, demon,” she said. “But remember, I am not one to be easily fooled, and if this proves a trap, you will regret it.”

“Haven’t I heard rumor that the young ladies of your order read faces?” said the cat, turning and leading the way into the forest. “Can you not read trustworthiness in my face?”

“I’ve never before tried to read the face of a cat,” Sairu replied.

“A pity. Once you learn to read a cat, no face will be closed to you. Not even the face of that stone-cold mistress you serve.”

Sairu, her smiles long gone behind lines of concentration, glared at the furry ear-tufts below her but did not bother to answer. She believed the creature was telling the truth, though she did not believe him trustworthy. But she kept her thoughts to herself and was nearly as silent as the cat himself as she followed him up into the hills. They did not use the road, but she glimpsed it now and then. When she asked the cat why he did not take that way, as it would be easier than navigating the thick forest itself, his hide shivered.

“I don’t trust that road,” he said. “I don’t know it, and I don’t like it. Should we succeed in rescuing your guide, I’ll walk it then, but not before.”

Sairu did not question this. She did not understand it but felt that further questions would only confuse the matter. Better to contemplate the issue at a later, more leisurely moment.

Although cold breezes blew down from the mountain, summer was hot in the plains country, and the heat rose up to follow Sairu even as she followed the cat. She was soon sweating with exertion and even began to miss her grouchy old donkey. Yet a small part of her heart—a part she tried to calm like a silly, giddy child—kept squealing and jumping with joy.

This was
such
a world! Such a wild, wonderful, weird world, so far from all the cultured gardens of Manusbau and the Masayi! Yes, there had been untamed portions within the walls of the Emperor’s great palace, places where deer, boar, and even spotted panthers were permitted to wander freely, where the Golden Daughters often met to practice the woodcraft Sairu employed even now, moving through rugged terrain with the same silence as the panthers. But these were all, ultimately, so tended, so nurtured, so cared for, both the grounds and the animals therein, that they could hardly be called
wild
anymore. Not truly wild like this land.

It began to grow dark, darker still because they walked beneath the trees, which effectively blocked any lingering daylight. The cat progressed at the same pace, but Sairu was obliged to slow and choose her steps carefully. Soon the cat was out of sight.

Sairu stopped. She wasn’t afraid, not even while this far out in a territory not her own, filled with threats she could not see. She did not need to see threats to sense them, and she felt herself a match for any one of them. In the first few miles of this venture, she had avoided five poisonous snakes, innumerable poisonous spiders, at least one pitfall, and spotted signs of wildcats and even mountain dogs along the way. As long as she knew what to expect, she did not fear.

She did not fear even when she
didn’t
know what to expect. This was the whole purpose of a Golden Daughter.

Still, she was not one for recklessness, so she stopped when the cat disappeared, drew one of her knives, and sniffed the air, seeking a certain scent. If slavers did indeed reside nearby, they would have built a campfire by now. She should smell smoke.

“One thing I’ve never liked about humans is your tendency to lag behind.”

Sairu smiled down at the cat. His eyes shone with unnatural light, like two bright lanterns, and reflected off his white chest and tufty paws. But his orange coat looked blue in the gloom.

“One thing I’ve never liked about cats is your tendency to look down on everyone.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “But then, you’re no cat, are you?”

“Why would you say that?”

“I don’t believe cats speak in the tongues of men.”

“Good,” said the cat. “Neither do I.”

“Thus I surmise that you’re no cat.”

“Oh, I’m a cat all right. But who says I’m speaking your tongue?”

“It is a logical assumption. After all, I do not speak cat, and yet I understand you.”

At this, the cat twitched an ear, and it struck Sairu as a patronizing sort of ear twitch, which she did not appreciate. “Keep up,” he said, and turned once more into the forest, moving slower now so that Sairu had time to feel out her way as she followed him. They had progressed in near-silence for a few minutes when finally Sairu caught the scent of smoke.