Snare (50 page)

‘No,’ Warkannan said. ‘If there was, I wouldn’t be asking you to start one.’

‘I certainly agree.’ Soutan, this strange new Soutan whose face finally matched his old man’s eyes, leaned forward to join in. ‘What I saw –’

Jezro held up a hand for silence. ‘Yarl, thank you, but Idres’ word is all I need.’ He pushed his chair back and stood up, reaching for his stick. ‘Gemet’s assassins cut a couple of tendons on this leg, in case you were wondering.’

‘It’s a miracle they didn’t kill you. God must have known that the khanate would need you.’

‘Well, I think that’s giving me more importance than I deserve.’ Jezro smiled, briefly. ‘Look, I’ve got to think about this. Idres, for ten years I’ve been nothing – an exile, homeless, someone who had to work for his living for the first time in his life. I’m not the man I used to be. I’ve got to think about this.’

Jezro limped out of the dining room. No one spoke till the laced bamboid door closed behind him. Soutan turned, trembling a little, to Warkannan.

‘Think he’ll go back?’ Soutan sounded half out of breath.

‘I hope so,’ Warkannan said and laughed, one short bark. ‘We’ve ridden a hell of a long way to have him say no.’

‘I’m stunned.’ Soutan was whispering. ‘I never thought he’d have doubts. I trust you believe me, Captain. To bring you all this way and then – I never thought this would happen!’

‘Oh, I certainly do believe you. I can see it on your face. Yes, stunned is a good word. So am I.’

Arkazo was staring slack-mouthed at both of them. ‘Uncle?’ he began, then stopped himself. ‘I guess we just have to wait.’

‘That’s right.’ Warkannan wadded up his linen napkin and tossed it, hard, onto his empty plate. ‘I can see his point about one thing. Ten years is a long time. A lot can happen to a man in it, and a lot’s certainly happened to him.’

They returned to Warkannan’s guest room to sit by the windows and wait. Every now and then someone would start to speak, then let his voice trail away. It was only an hour by Warkannan’s watch before Jezro walked in unannounced and joined them, but by then
Arkazo had fallen asleep and was snoring in his chair; Soutan looked as if he might do the same at any moment. Warkannan could feel his own exhaustion, but the sheer pleasure of seeing Jezro and talking with him would, he knew, keep him awake. For a moment Jezro stood looking at the three of them, saying nothing; then he smiled and tapped Arkazo on the shoulder. The boy woke with a start.

‘Go to bed, Kaz,’ Jezro said. ‘Your uncle and I will doubtless lapse into boring old stories.’

‘Yes sir,’ Arkazo said, yawning. ‘But are you coming home with us?’

Jezro sighed, a long exhalation of sadness. ‘I don’t know yet. I’m sorry. I thought I could make a quick decision, walking in the garden like the prophet Joshua, I suppose.’ His mouth twisted in a wry smile. ‘Unlike the prophet, I can’t seem to make up my mind.’

Arkazo bit his lip. In his exhaustion he looked close to tears, and Warkannan realized that he felt close to them himself. Jezro turned to him.

‘Idres, if I go back and we start a war, I had damn well better be the answer to everyone’s prayers. What if I can’t be? What if I don’t know how to rule the khanate? A war’s going to make everything worse for everyone. It won’t be worth it if all they get is a different kind of rotten bastard on the throne.’

‘You know what these doubts mean?’ Warkannan said. ‘That you’re already a better ruler than he is.’

‘Better, yes. But good? I’m sorry. You’re tired, and I’m not thinking straight. We can talk more tomorrow.’ Jezro glanced at Arkazo. ‘Go to bed, Kaz. Things will look different in the morning.’

Jezro took Warkannan and Soutan into a small parlour, lit by two big lamps with frosted glass chimneys. The pale blue walls glowed like the sky, and the furniture gleamed with gilded wood and flowered cushions. The open windows let in the cool night air. Warkannan happened to glance at one of the lamps, then swore aloud. Jezro laughed at him.

‘I wondered when you’d notice,’ the khan said.

Blinking against the glare Warkannan examined the lamp – no oil, no wick in the chimney, only something that looked like a twist of glowing rope. When he passed his hand above the shade, he felt no heat.

‘What’s it burning?’

‘It’s not,’ Jezro said, grinning. ‘It’s lit by something called a luminay, powered by a solar accu, the same power source that’s inside each of Yarl’s crystals.’

‘Only these are much larger,’ Soutan added, ‘and can store a great deal of power.’

Warkannan shook his head in amazement and sat back down. A servant glided in with a tray of three small glasses and a decanter of some pale brown liquor. He poured, then bowed and left the room.

Warkannan tried a sip – pleasant stuff, and strong. ‘And what’s this?’

‘They call it brandy. The First Prophet never heard of it, so I’m assuming it’s all right to drink it.’ Jezro leaned back in his chair and considered Warkannan over his glass. ‘All right. Suppose I do say yes. Do you really think we can win this rebellion?’

‘Of course. Otherwise I’d never have asked you to lead it.’

Jezro turned to Soutan. ‘I’m surprised you’d back a scheme like this. You had plans – this would ruin them.’

‘Temporarily only,’ Soutan said. ‘Yes, Marya’s rich, yes she has resources, but compared to the khanate, she’s a pauper.’

‘We’d better explain,’ Jezro said. ‘Yarl managed to talk Marya into funding an expedition east.’

‘It took some doing, yes.’ Yarl smiled briefly. ‘Eventually, she agreed to pay for men and horses and the like, in return for a share of any technology I found. Now, however, we’ll have an even better chance of success.’ He glanced at Jezro. ‘Once you’re Great Khan, and the grateful populace is happy again, freed from the foul Gemet’s misrule, well, then – oh yes, then – surely you’ll have a spare regiment or two to come help me search?’

‘For what?’ Warkannan leaned forward. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘The lost ships, of course. The lost starships that brought us here, and that can, therefore, take us home again.’ Soutan held his glass of brandy up to the light of the nearer lamp. ‘Well, someone will have to figure out how to fly them, of course. But in the end, if we persevere, we’ll succeed. My researches have made it plain that the Settlers stored all sorts of records in the ships. They must have left instructions as well.’

Soutan was smiling, his eyes wide and bright, too bright, and
not quite focused. Warkannan remembered his sudden insight on the morning after they’d crossed the Rift. He’s mad, Warkannan thought. As mad as Gemet in his own way. He looked at Jezro, who was busying himself with his handkerchief.

‘Um, well,’ Jezro said eventually. ‘Let’s not tempt God’s wrath, gentlemen. Let’s see if He wants me to have the throne before we decide what to do with it.’

‘Ah yes,’ Soutan drawled. ‘Inshallah, or however that goes.’

‘Just that,’ Jezro said. ‘And we’re a hell of a long way from Kazrajistan at the moment.’

‘That’s true,’ Warkannan said. ‘I know I’m pushing you to make up your mind, Jezro, but we should get back on the road tomorrow.’

‘What?’ Soutan snapped. ‘I need to rest!’

‘You can rest in Andjaro.’ Warkannan turned to Jezro. ‘We’ve got to leave soon. I know the dookis has bodyguards, but it’s too risky, staying here.’

‘Why?’ Jezro said.

‘Do you remember Zahir Benumar?’

‘Of course. I’m surprised he didn’t come with you, frankly.’

‘Oh, he’s here, all right. He’s probably not far away at all. He’s one of the Chosen, and he’s coming to murder you.’

Jezro grunted as sharply as if Warkannan had punched him in the stomach, then caught his breath with a shake of his head. ‘My God, Idres! You’re full of one little surprise after another.’

‘Sorry, but blame the Chosen, not me. They have more power than they ever did before, and there’s more of them, spying for Gemet everywhere. When Soutan arrived, Indan formed a so-called investment group, with the excuse of using those old maps to find blackstone. Apparently the Chosen got suspicious. They sent a man across to get information about Soutan here. Zahir, actually, though he’s calling himself Zayn these days. And when he was asking around about Soutan, he found out about you.’

Jezro nodded slowly, but his face stayed rigid.

‘He’s probably not far behind us,’ Soutan said. ‘By the way, I asked Robear to post night guards.’

Jezro ignored the interruption. ‘Benumar? One of the Chosen? It’s damned hard to believe. He was a good officer. Hell, more than that! He was my friend.’

‘I had trouble believing it myself,’ Warkannan said. ‘But it’s true. I’ve seen him. He admitted it. By God Himself, Jezro! Why do you
think we’re so desperate to have you back? The khanate’s rotting from the inside out.’

‘I am perennially amazed,’ Soutan drawled, ‘by the number of clichés you’ve made your own.’

‘Shut up!’ Warkannan was on his feet before he half-realized what he was doing. ‘You can shut up or –’

‘Calm down!’ Jezro hauled himself up and stepped between them. He laid a hand on Warkannan’s shoulder. ‘Yes, Yarl can be infuriating, but he has his reasons, you know.’

‘No, I don’t know.’ Warkannan shook the hand off, but he did sit down again. ‘Suppose one of you tells me.’

Soutan opened his mouth, but Jezro scowled at him. Glowering, Soutan slumped back into his chair.

‘That can wait till later,’ Jezro said. ‘So, there’s another assassin after me, is there? And you think we’d be safer on the road than sitting here like lizards in a tree, waiting to be netted and turned into supper?’

‘Exactly that.’

Jezro picked up the decanter and refilled their glasses before he sat back down. He swirled the brandy and watched the liquid slide down the glass, then glanced at Soutan to explain.

‘Benumar was more than an ordinary subordinate. The three of us formed a unit, once he got his commission. I could trust him, you see, like I could trust Idres here, to tell me when I was wrong. They could forget that I was a khan. It’s hard to believe now, but the rest of my fellow officers thought that when Gemet got the throne, I’d end up with some nice profitable position at court. The flatterers were thick on the ground, let me tell you.’

‘I see,’ Soutan said. ‘Well, it must be hard, then, hearing how he’s changed.’

Jezro nodded. ‘Why, Idres? Do you have any idea why he’d join them?’

‘Oh yes, he –’

Soutan twitched in his chair, then coughed to cover his reaction. He risked looking at Warkannan with an unspoken pleading in his eyes. It took Warkannan a moment to realize why, that Soutan feared Jezro’s reaction to tales of strange drugs and ritual murder. For a moment Warkannan was tempted to keep the story laid up like an extra knife in case he needed to use it against Soutan some day. But blackmail? He’d always hated the very word.

‘Well?’ Jezro said. ‘You said you saw Benumar?’

Soutan was watching him with hopeless eyes; his hands clutched the arms of his chair.

‘Yes,’ Warkannan said. ‘We didn’t know who was following us, but we knew someone was. He was riding with a comnee. When we reached the Cantons, Soutan reported him to a local zhay pay.’

Soutan sank back into his chair and gave Jezro a watery smile. ‘The captain questioned Zahir, but the comnee he was riding with – well, they must have seen him as one of their own. When we left town, they came and got him back by force.’

‘I see,’ Jezro said. ‘But he’s on his way here?’

‘Yes,’ Soutan said. ‘He left the comnee.’

Jezro glanced at Warkannan. ‘What did he tell you?’

While Warkannan explained, Jezro listened, barely moving, his brandy glass forgotten in his hand. Soutan, however, drank his straight off, then got up to pour himself more. When Warkannan finished, Jezro nodded, slowly, as if he were thinking through some difficult problem, and fished out the handkerchief again.

‘That’s pretty damned horrible,’ Jezro said at last. ‘To feel that way, to live that way! And he was only a child.’

‘Yes,’ Warkannan said. ‘It hit me pretty hard. I keep remembering things Zahir said during our little walk with the ChaMeech warparty. He’s a man with a great many strengths, but he thought of himself as some kind of shameful weakling. I couldn’t understand it then, but I do now.’

‘Yes, I can see it, too.’ Jezro shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket. ‘I can’t judge him too harshly, not after my own shameful performance.’

‘What? I can’t believe you’d –’

‘Let me finish. When I realized that Gemet was determined to murder the whole lot of us, when I knew the assassins were coming for me, I tried to hide. I took off the medallion. I hid it in my saddlebags. I was going to deny who I was to save my skin.’ Jezro smiled, but there was no mirth in his eyes. ‘And it didn’t even work. That’s maybe the worst part. As tricks went, it was a pretty crappy idea. Can’t you see how I felt, when I woke up in a comnee tent, all bandaged up, still alive somehow, but the zalet – gone when my horse ran off. It was a little like drowning, that feeling. To see how cowardly I could be –’ he let his voice fade, then spoke normally. ‘And then the comnee found them for me, anyway,
horse and zalet both. God bless the Tribes!’ He saluted with his glass, then drank.

‘Yes,’ Warkannan said. ‘Thank God they ran across you. I’ll have a little more of that brandy myself, if you think the First Prophet will forgive us.’

Jezro grinned and passed him the decanter. ‘But about Benumar? Idres, do you really want to just let him slide into damnation or whatever the ultimate fate of the Chosen is?’

‘No, of course not. I’ve been praying every day that he won’t.’

‘I’d rather do something a little more direct. We’re going to wait for him.’

‘Dookis Marya’s guards will make short work of him.’ Soutan joined in. ‘No doubt it’s best to let them have their chance at this fellow.’

‘You don’t understand,’ Jezro said. ‘I’m not waiting to kill him. I want to talk with him.’

‘Well, the guards can be told to take him alive, of course.’

‘No, Yarl, that’s not what I had in mind. Yes, of course, they could drag him in all trussed up like a true-fowl. Would he listen to me? Not if he’s a man with a pair of balls. Who would? What I have in mind is a little different.’