Shadow Gate (73 page)

“Does the storm frighten you, Mistress?”

“No. I like it. The rain will cut the dust. I'm so tired of tasting grit.”

“You wish the captain returns soon?”

“Of course. It was easier to wait in Olossi. Still, there is more than enough to do here. After all, I must build a thriving settlement so I can have a market to enjoy.”

Priya bent to kiss her cheek, lips cool on her skin, her breath smelling faintly of cloves. “Will you eat a second portion?”

Mai handed her the empty bowl. “Yes, I will. Do you think it is too early to allow those of the men who have particular women in mind to settle their betrothals?”

“The chief is having a difficult time keeping them in line, because the women here do not hesitate to have sex whenever they desire.”

“That's what I was thinking. Get them settled before they get restless, and into trouble.” As she shifted, the rice paper crackled, echoed by thunder rolling away over the water. “Miravia hasn't such freedom.”

“You must accept that you cannot change certain things, Mistress, and bend your energy to those you can affect.”

M
AI ROSE WITH
dawn's bell, after sleeping with the canvas walls rolled halfway up to admit some breeze into the inner chambers which would otherwise become stifling. The breath of morning had a special beauty, the sun rising over the flat waters and the Spires glinting as light sparked on ice-clad peaks. The clouds had vanished, although there was a constant, streaming mist above the peaks and a smear of pink-tinged white along the eastern horizon. The air was for the moment moist and cool. Sheep and goats grazed beyond the berm under the watchful eye of young shepherds, the children of women brave—or desperate—enough to travel to this barren reach to attempt a new life under the suzerainty of outlanders.

With her usual escort, Mai walked down the track, dodging carts pushed up by workmen, into what was already being called the lower town, although it looked more like a camp with many square tents and larger barracks built of hempen canvas tied over scaffolding. In the Barrens, wood was precious, so most of the building was in brick, and those few structures whose walls reached full height had canvas slung taut for a roof.

This early, Qin soldiers strolled the market lane, many gathered by the noodle sellers to eat before they began their training or patrolling for the day.

“A little bland today,” she said as she and Priya sampled a cup from one of the stalls. She smiled at the young woman who wielded the ladle. “Running out of spice again, Darda?”

“But there's plenty of fish!” replied the girl cheerfully. She was young, strong, with a wide smile that displayed a full set of teeth. Good health mattered. Mai had been careful to favor women who looked robust and energetic. “I'm hoping the next boat brings more spice. Wish I could get shoots, but it's not worth the coin to ship them in, can't turn a profit, and they rot. The edible kind don't grow out here. That girl Avisha in your household told me she means to plant a garden when the fields go in. I've already told her what I'd buy.”

“Hear any news of your family?”

Her brows furrowed. “It's kind of you to ask, verea, but I don't suppose I ever will. Even if they got away safely and made it to my kin, it's not likely they could go all the way to Olossi to ask after me. It's kind of you to think of keeping a list at the compound for those who do come looking.”

“I lost an uncle that way. It's hard not to know what happened to him.”

The girl sighed. “It's my younger brother I worry about most. I suppose he is dead, that he might be better dead than suffering, but then I must hope he will walk up alive and tease me like he used to do.” Her frown transformed abruptly to a brighter smile, lamp-lit as the songs called it. A Qin soldier, an older and very steady man, came up with his bowl to buy his morning's meal.

Mai retreated. “I sense an interest there,” she said to Chief Tuvi as they paused to look in on a tailor's shop, a weaver's shed, a rope and braid maker, and a pair of shops whose proprietors shaped household items out of clay.

“You have a talent for finding skillful women,” said
the chief as he eyed a young woman who had thrown down a square of cloth beside the thoroughfare and, shading herself under an umbrella propped up between stacked bricks, was doing a brisk business with needle and thread repairing torn taloos, tunics, trousers, and other items of clothing. She was so intent on her mending that she did not look up as they passed, only paused as their shadows altered her light, then started up again with neat, even stitches.

“It's true I've favored women with skills, and ones who are interested in establishing shops. That way they can maintain their families and grow their clans, while leaving their husbands free to fight and herd. All of which suits Anji's purpose.”

Chief Tuvi nodded. “It's a good site. Isolated. Hard for an invading army to attack us here without ruining their own supply lines and running out of water. We are scouting the routes up into the mountains, looking for fallback positions, a defensible refuge, better water sources.”

“Yet it will be prohibitively expensive to ship in all our foodstuffs, even with the trade in oil of naya. We can't flood the market with a commodity that is currently high-priced because it is so hard to obtain.”

“There's plenty of fish,” said Tuvi, and they both laughed. “We'll run sheep and goats in the uplands. It's decent grazing land. If O'eki and the engineers can construct the conduit, we will have a steady supply of water and be able to maintain fields for the locals to work. Then the settlement will be viable beyond the spring in the gully. We could stay here a good long time.”

“Have you picked out a wife, Tuvi?”

He sighed. “I left a good wife at home. It's hard to think about taking a new one when I think of her wondering what's become of me. Still, that Avisha is a pretty girl.”

Mai shook her head. “No, Tuvi. You'll get bored of her. And you intimidate her. Let her go to someone who will enjoy her chatter.”

“Hu! That's telling me! Do you have someone in mind for me, then? Or must I bide a bachelor for the rest of my days?”

“I'll keep an eye out. For you, Tuvi-lo, someone special only.”

He laughed.

The noodle-maker came out to greet Mai, her face whitened with flour dust. Mai nodded toward the laborers out in back, muscular men stripped to their kilts and wearing faded caps to protect their eyes from the sun. They were adding on a second room out of brick.

“Expanding already?”

“I've had to hire on four more workers to keep up with the demand. But I've had some trouble with men drinking and fighting.”

“Bring your complaint to the next assizes.”

“I will, verea. As it happens, I'm hoping to send for my auntie and cousins. With your permission, verea.”

“I'll be pleased to see them here if they are as industrious as you.”

“You've offered us a chance to change our circumstances, verea. We won't forget it.”

Priya stayed behind to haggle over a delivery of noodles to the captain's house, while Mai and her escort walked on. At the lower gate, she stood in a patch of shade as she surveyed the alluvial fan that spread toward the bay, its darker earth cut by shallow streambeds from the seasonal flow. A brickyard spread mountainward, sun-drying bricks laid in ranks. On the coastal side, fish racks stretched as far as she could see. Children crouched where women filleted caught fish, stringing fish heads. Where stonework marked the end of the underground channel, the color of the soil had darkened in a wide skirt.

“Did the reservoir take water from the rains?” she asked. “Is the underground channel going to work?”

Tuvi squinted, but said nothing.

Priya said, “It will take many years for the entire conduit
to be dug. There was such a channel in Kartu Town, bringing water down off Dezara Mountain.”

“That's where O'eki earned coin, didn't he?” said Mai. “The channel had to be repaired and cleaned out.”

“Dangerous work,” said Priya. “But he supervises now. Others take the risk.”

Down on the flat land, fields might bloom, although the landscape looked dusty and brown. Last night's storm had been the first substantial precipitation since she had arrived weeks ago. The season of Flower Rains was giving way to that of Flood Rains.

“Strange to think of this place as becoming green,” Mai said. “I would love an orchard, with sunfruit and almonds. And white-stone fruit. If it will grow here. Maybe it is too hot.”

She wiped sweat from her brow. A stream of laborers hauled materials up into town. They wore kilts or long jackets much worn and faded, their caps sewn of scraps of material in every color: peacock green, dingy brown, clay red, fig yellow. Some acknowledged her with a nod; others ignored her. She noted those with a morning spring in their step, and those with a slump in their shoulders despite the early hour. She felt compassion for the weary, but in another part of her mind she totted up the cost of maintaining laborers who were not as strong. Shelter, now that they had set up the barracks tents, demanded little coin to maintain, but food enough to fuel labor did not come cheaply, since much had to be brought in from Olossi. She wanted her outlay on foodstuffs to be used at maximum efficiency, with strong workers, not lagging ones. Rice was easy to transport, but quantities of fresh water to boil it in remained problematic. All in all, the difficulties of this holding seemed overwhelming despite Chief Tuvi's assessment of its superior defensive capabilities.

Yet that did not mean that strangers did not on occasion walk into the settlement, seeking employment or, perhaps, less tangible goals.

“Is that a priest? An envoy of Ilu, by his clothing.”

A man was climbing the road. He was a man of mature years, not yet elderly, and dressed in a bright blue cloak, dark-red trousers, and a tunic dyed a brilliant saffron yellow. As he approached the gates he looked up, saw her, and smiled as though they were old friends. She smiled back. He did look familiar, but she could not place where she had seen him.

“Greetings of the dawn,” she called, abruptly sure that her day would pass without undue troubles to disturb her.

The guards shifted to take up flanking stations, but the envoy of Ilu flashed no weapons and made no threatening gesture.

“Greetings of the dawn.” As he halted in a neighboring patch of shade along the raised gateway, he mopped his brow and chuckled in an amiable manner. “Whew! Hot today, despite the storm last night, neh?”

“So it is,” she agreed.

“Where did you come from?” asked the chief.

“I walked down from north of here. That way lies the Ireni Valley. Isolated country.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why does any envoy of Ilu walk the land? I come to pass on what little news I have, and to take away news in turn, if any have news to share. I can bide at the temple of Ilu here. If there is one. Where do the locals make their offerings?”

“We have no temples,” said Tuvi.

“None are built yet,” added Mai hastily, not wanting to offend the man. “Some among us say prayers to the Merciful One. How the rest manage their prayers and offerings I do not know.”

“Is it forbidden to build temples to the gods?” he asked, although his tone remained congenial.

“Not at all. But you see, holy one, that we must first build shelter and set up our markets and walls.”

“Folk must eat,” added Tuvi, “and they wish to sleep with some surety they will not be murdered at their rest. Surely the gods do not begrudge us that much.”

“Not at all, ver. And with the Flood Rains entering, you'll certainly wish for shelter. You are outlanders.”

“Given title to this land,” said Mai. “It is all perfectly legal, holy one. Perhaps you could advise me on where temples might be most properly sited.”

“A worthy endeavor. I would be willing to bide a few days before going on my way. There's a substantial ruin a few mey distant. Do you know it?”

“I do,” said Mai. “There are substantial sinks of naya there, and a cave where a flame burns without cease. But the city fell into ruin long ago.”

“You know the place, truly.”

“A Qin soldier was murdered there by a demon several months ago,” said the chief.

“A demon! Eiya! I'll avoid it henceforth, then. My thanks for the warning, ver.” Yet somehow, he did not seem surprised. “What is the other thing you wished to consult me on, verea?”

“I was just thinking—you're the first holy priest who has walked out this way—a long way, I admit! I don't know what the proper customs are for the marriage ceremony, beyond a contract.”

“That's simple enough, verea. But you'll need established temples here, nothing elaborate. An altar with a single attendant will do. However, no marriage can be sanctified without the proper offerings being made to each of the gods. Surely any of the local women who live here could have told you that.” He reached into the sleeve of his robe and produced a sunfruit, small but perfectly ripe. This offering he presented.

“Thank you!” Mai blushed as she accepted it. “Where did you get this, holy one?”

“North of here, about twenty mey distant, there lies a deep valley of particular fertility nestled in the high
foothills. Hard to spot from the ground, and difficult to enter. Now if you will, verea, I'll take my leave and go into camp, see if any wish to arrange evening prayers.”

“Take a meal with me tomorrow, holy one,” Mai called after him. He acknowledged her invitation with a wave as he strode up the hill into the lower town.

The fruit was perfectly ripe, fresh, moist, and sweet without tartness.

The chief meanwhile took his hand off his sword hilt and called over one of the guards. After a consultation, the soldier hurried after the envoy.