Shadow Gate (63 page)

Joss laughed. “You're a hard one to catch out.”

“I trained in a hard school, the palace school of the imperial palace in Sirniaka.”

“Would the Red Hounds who serve the emperor really track you into a foreign country?”

“Track the emperor's half brother? Especially now that the emperor is facing a revolt from his cousins over whose claim to the throne is most legitimate? My brother considers me a danger to his position, and my cousins likely more so, as I am the only other surviving son of Emperor Farutanihosh, who was their father's older brother. Or do you think Tam was killed by the demon you're calling a Guardian?”

“He was murdered with a poisoned knife. And your other soldier poisoned as well.”

“Seren's life was saved by Ri Amarah healing, I remind you. He and Tam had nothing to do with the demon girl, ever. Indeed, Seren complained bitterly about her traveling with the company. Many of the men did. They wanted no demon to bring ill luck down on us.” He stroked his tightly cropped beard. “Listen, Marshal. The local militia has looked into the death of Tam. But if the deed proved to be of local origin, some malcontent, would the Olossi militia hesitate to turn on one of their own?”

“You don't trust them, even though you are—as I believe—their new commander?”

“I'm an outlander in their eyes, however appreciative they might be that my men saved them. That's another reason I must recruit more widely. I mean to create an army out of men drawn from all over the region who will be trained under banners, not with their local cousins but with strangers. They will learn to be loyal not to their village but to Olo'osson.”

“A dangerous thing, an army,” said Joss. “As Censor Guri pointed out.”

“As you must all know by now, seeing what havoc an army can wreak on an unprotected population. Nevertheless, if your reeves might investigate, I'd be grateful. I want justice for my dead soldiers, as any captain would.”

Joss nodded. “We have our ears and eyes open. Are you ready, then? I'll call Scar.”

“I'm ready.”

Joss raised the bone whistle to his lips, but lowered it before he blew. “You never answered my question about the Ri Amarah, and the oil of naya.”

The dimple flashed again. “Marshal, don't you know that I leave all trading arrangements to my wife?”

M
AI PLACED FLOWERS
on the altar, a table raised on bricks and covered with a red cloth. An image of the Merciful One gazed upon them with a gentle, almost detached expression of compassionate enlightenment, an upraised hand to signify awakening and another hand cupped at the belly to signify comfort. The colors in the painting glowed, not quite yet dried. The features and robes had more straight lines than curves, reflecting the style of the Hundred, but the artist had done a decent job in a short time with an unfamiliar subject.

“I offer these flowers at the feet of the Merciful One. Through the merit of offering may I walk the path of awakening. The color and fragrance of flowers fade, so does the body wither and disintegrate. Receive this with compassion.”

She sat on the floor beside Priya. Sheyshi and several of the younger Qin soldiers sat behind them in the small room, while at the open doors several soldiers and a few of the local women watched. Priya led the chanting.

“I go to the Merciful One for refuge. I go to the Truth for refuge. I go to the Awakened for refuge.”

As Priya chanted on through the Four Undertakings, the Five Rewards, and the Six Virtues, Mai heard voices elsewhere in the house punctuated by the clack of doors slapped open and shut. Men shuffled by the entry, rustling and murmuring, and she lost track of the thread of Priya's prayer. A little annoyed, she looked over her shoulder to see who had the audacity to disturb them.

The onlookers made way as Anji stepped into the room. With only the barest flicker of a glance in her direction, he knelt at the back of the room, sitting with hands open on his thighs. He closed his eyes. The disturbance raised by his entrance stilled. Priya had not faltered, and she worked on through the Seven Candles, lighting each stick of incense, and the Eight Truths, while Mai struggled to regain the momentary peace she had felt when she placed the flowers before the image of the Merciful One.

“Merciful One, your wisdom is boundless. Excuse me for the transgressions I have made through thoughtlessness, through neglect, through fear. May the rains come at the proper time. May the harvest be abundant. May the world prosper, and justice be served. Accept my prayers out of compassion. Peace.”

Mai rose and walked out of the chamber to her private sleeping chamber where no person but Anji or Priya would dare follow. As Anji did. She turned to face him as he slid the door closed. He remained by the door, she by the wide pallet and its neatly piled coverlets.

He studied her with a frown. “You are well? Unharmed?”

As with a cloudburst, the sky opened. “She had only to look at me, and it was as if she ripped free every terrible memory I ever had. There was one time I was not more than six or seven, and Uncle Girish wasn't more than thirteen, and he sat down beside me in the garden and started stroking my hair in a way that made me feel dirty. When I tried to get up he dragged me back by the wrist to sit beside him. Then Father came out into the garden, and he beat Girish until his nose bled and one of his teeth cracked, and told him that if he ever touched any of the household children again that he would kill him. Afterward when Grandmother saw Uncle Girish's bruises she went crazy yelling and screaming at everyone because she never liked Father even though he was her eldest. He was Grandfather Mei's favorite so she
hated him because she hated Grandfather Mei, and anything Grandfather Mei liked, she hated. It was an arranged marriage, but the matchmakers weren't careful enough, and it poisoned her. So because Grandfather Mei thought Girish was too fussy and spiteful, she loved Girish best even though it spoiled him until he fermented. Well, she loved Hari, too, but everyone loved Hari. And then after Grandmother's tantrums, Girish tried to lord it over Father, and Father made all of us little children come into his office and then he choked Girish until he blacked out, and then he said to us, if he ever touches one of you, tell me. So Girish left us alone except to say ugly things to us, but of course now I see he must have gone elsewhere where folk weren't so particular about what he did to children. Cornflower poisoned him, and then tried to poison herself, but the poison didn't kill her. Mother and Aunt wanted to sell her, and Grandmother was delirious with grief, but the men refused to sell her away. They couldn't let her alone. In a household like that if there is one female who gets special attention from all the men, then usually the other women are jealous of her, but no one hated her. They wanted to be rid of her—which is how she got sent with Shai—but they didn't envy her. Maybe they were grateful to her for killing Girish.” She was in a sweat, mouth dry. “Merciful One! I'm babbling.”

“No, you're making a good deal of sense.” Still, he did not approach her. “She is a demon, Mai. That you resisted her testifies to your strength. Chief Tuvi says you saved O'eki's life, when everyone else was helpless. Let us hope she has taken her revenge and will leave us alone.”

The knot that weighted her heart unraveled in a scalding explosion of tears. “B-b-but she's going north to kill Shai! Because of what I said.”

She sobbed so hard she was only vaguely aware of Anji drawing her down to the bed, sitting with arms around her, holding her close as she wept. As the storm
faded, he wiped her running nose with a cloth, pressed a cup of juice to her lips. She sipped, and hiccoughed. He wiped her eyes with a finger, kissed her, explored the curve of belly with a tentative touch.

She hiccoughed again, and blew her nose. “Isn't there any way to warn Shai? Couldn't the reeves look for him?”

“The demon has to track him down first. I'll talk to Marshal Joss.” He startled, sitting straight, and pressed a hand against her belly. “What was that?”

She shifted his hand to a lower spot. “Did you feel him move?”

“A boy? How can you be sure?”

“It's what the Ri Amarah women say. Oh, Anji, now I've gotten Miravia into all sorts of trouble. The men came crashing into the courtyard—breaking everything—the new doors aren't in place yet—and Keshad came running from the office, not to mention the Ri Amarah guards and O'eki. All those men who aren't her kinsmen saw her unveiled. That won't be forgiven, you know. They'll never let her come here again. Because of you, and the oil of naya, they've let me visit her once there. She's so unhappy.”

“We cannot interfere with the customs which the Ri Amarah hold among themselves. There, now, Mai.” He flicked a finger against her chin, smiling softly. “Did you get it all out?”

She took in a shuddering breath and let it out as a shuddering sigh. “I suppose so.”

“I will stay in Olossi for a few days. The marshal and the Hieros mean to call a council meeting to address this business of the demon. I've words to speak about the formation and disposition of the militia.”

“Then you'll leave again?”

“I will.”

“Why must you be gone so much?” She hated the way her voice sounded, and with an effort, finding her market face and her market voice, she pressed two fingers to his
lips to silence his reply and went on in the tone she would use toward customers, light and cheerful. “I know you must. It's just that I miss you. I got accustomed to being with you every day.”

He kissed her fingers, grasped her wrist, and drew her hand away. “I'll keep you beside me every waking and sleeping hour while I am here. But these matters will need my attention for some time. We have to prepare. You're going to the Barrens.”

“I don't want to go to the Barrens!”

“It's the only way I can know you are safe. We've seen it's impossible to guard you here. I don't know who killed Tam, or who sent the demon to kill Chaji, Umar, and Eitai.”

“Demons walk on their own feet, as it says in the songs. They have volition, and thought, and they can hate and love, just as humans can. Maybe no one sent Cornflower. She walked on the trail of her own grievances. Anji! If I'm sent to the Barrens, there'll be no market, nothing but grass and sheep like out on Dezara Mountain back home. I won't be able to see Miravia!”

He released her, stood and, after a moment, extended a hand. She considered pleas and protests, but discarded these useless thoughts at once. She knew better. Taking his hand, she allowed him to pull her to her feet.

“I will do what I can,” he said. “This is a temporary measure, but I have decided. There will be no more discussion.”

Despite living for twelve years as a slave to one of the most prominent men in Olossi, Keshad had never set foot inside the council hall. As a lad he had often waited outside in Fortune Square for half the day, slumbering in the heat with his master's umbrella tipped over him to
keep off the sun, waiting for Master Feden to emerge so he could shade him on the walk back to the clan compound.

Situated at the city's highest point, Fortune Square offered a view over tile rooftops and the steep peaks of raftered halls, over narrow alleys and broad avenues, courtyard gardens and humbler courts where washing was hung out. The noise of construction rose out of the lower city, where buildings were rising in the gaps where the fire had eaten holes. The light was muted today, pearly beneath clouds. No one was carrying shade umbrellas.

A pair of militiamen stood guard at the door to the stone watchtower with its open roof and fire cage. A line of supplicants, rain cloaks slung over their shoulders or draped over an arm, waited with varying degrees of patience in front of the council hall. Here a free man could bring a grievance, although no slave ever could. In Captain Anji's company, Kesh walked past the supplicants and up the steps. The soldiers took up positions on the porch as he followed the others inside. An entry chamber stretched the width of the hall. It was empty except for a clerk sitting at a low table among a disorganized scatter of tablets and scrolls. Looking up, she spattered ink from her brush onto the table.

“Marshal! Captain. Verea.” She offered Kesh a puzzled nod, not sure how to place him, then bent to wiping up the stain. She was a bit older than he was, nicely curved but nothing special to look at even if the cursed reeve flirted with her.

“I'm glad to see you well, Jonit. You and your family survived the assault unscathed, I hope.” The grin flashed.

The woman blushed. “I did, thanks to the Qin.” She smiled nervously at Captain Anji.

Mai smoothly interposed herself into the breach. “Jonit! We've met once before, in the guest house of the Haf Gi Ri. Aren't you a dear friend of—” She hesitated, glancing at the men. “—Master Eliar's sister?”

Keshad knew that her name must never be spoken aloud. He still did not know it. He closed his eyes, and at once recalled her face, the subtle smile, the moist red lips, the searing gaze that had cut right through him until he could see nothing else.

“Keshad. This way.”

The captain's voice was as good as a yank on a chained man. Kesh stumbled up another rank of steps, looking over his shoulder at the chamber they were leaving behind. The central screen depicted a lovingly painted Ladytree beneath whose branches lay a pair of abandoned orange slippers. How appropriate! Every council hall ought to ornament its entry hall with the tale of the Silk Slippers, which featured much lying and conniving and brutality, even if the innocent girl did triumph in the end. They crossed under a stone archway that opened onto the council garden. Here council members might while away the heat of the afternoon before an evening council session. Here allies might plot among the troughs and terraces of flowering shrubs and ornamental trees ruthlessly pruned back. Here enemies might agree to agree as they undertook to stab a third party.