The Peasant (14 page)

Again Guarding Bear bowed to Flying Arrow. Standing, he stepped past his nephew onto empty floor and walked five customary paces toward Snarling Jaguar. Unarmed and feeling naked, Guarding Bear smiled and bowed.

Since retiring eighteen months ago from all positions except Caven Hills Prefect, Guarding Bear had grown irritable with his extended hibernation, bored with long hours of little activity. Only after he'd accepted the Emperor's offer had Bubbling Water warned him of trouble. This morning, Guarding Bear had debated turning down the castle position and disobeying the order to mediate here. Knowing what Flying Arrow would do if he refused, the General had decided to mediate today and resign the post promptly afterward.

How he wished he could have heeded Bubbling Water! Her prescient visions had grown more frequent and clear since her sip from Healing Hand's fountain of youth. Her premonition of disaster for today gnawed at his bowels.

Lifting his head from the floor, Guarding Bear eased himself back on his haunches, wishing he were elsewhere.

“Infinite be with you, Lord General Guarding Bear.” Snarling Jaguar nodded to acknowledge. “Forgive me if I don't join you five paces in front of my entourage, Lord General. Allow me to add how pleased I am to see you again.”

Guarding Bear searched Snarling Jaguar's face, recalling Aged Oak's words a few minutes ago: “He's too nice.” Snarling Jaguar hasn't hurt me! What did you promise yourself after your brother's widow Fleeting Snow stopped you from killing her mate, your ancient enemy Scowling Tiger? That you won't war except on those who war on you, that you won't kill except those who try to kill you. What the Infinite can I do? Guarding Bear asked himself, tired of battling every shadow and knowing no way to remove himself from this diplomatic battle between Emperors.

Resigned, Guarding Bear reviewed his latest reports. At the caves of the Elk Raiders, an unknown woman had joined the Emperor's company. The Brothers Jaguar had quarreled just before the Emperor left. From the fortress, Scowling Tiger had covertly called for warriors and arms, as if preparing to launch mayhem from the mountains. Most damaging was the rumor that the talented tiger signified an alliance between bandit general and Southern Emperor.

“An honor to see
you
, Lord Emperor Jaguar. Infinite be with you as well. I understand why you're reluctant to appoint a mediator in your place.” Guarding Bear grinned. “Then you won't do anything ill-advised, eh Lord?”

“This way, Lord General, I may better guide the destiny of my Empire.”

“Which you've done, Lord Emperor Jaguar, with alacrity and grace ever since your traitor of a brother betrayed his own … Uh, forgive me, Lord, for blundering into the unmentionables.” Smiling as though ashamed, Guarding Bear bowed his head in mock meek apology, his thirty years of warring a cage that confined him still. “How is your brother the Lord Bandit Leaping Elk, may his scant rack of horn become some hapless hunter's trophy?”

In situations this sensitive, the participants' language was often indirect, full of metaphor and innuendo. What they said indirectly they didn't really say. What one inferred from the other's speech they could discredit as the exaggeration of the eager to take offense. Thus, Guarding Bear merely alluded and implied, instead of accusing directly.

I don't
want
to accuse him of anything! he thought helplessly, struggling to squeeze between the rigid bars confining his behavior.

Snarling Jaguar chuckled. “Unfortunately, the Infinite hasn't arranged that yet, Lord General, despite my prayers. Someday perhaps. The Lord Elk asked me to send his respects if I saw you. I believe what he said was, 'May your buttocks boil in bear fat.' ”

Guarding Bear bellowed with laughter that sounded forced and nervous. I'm no stinking noble so worried about face I can't be myself! he thought, thrashing at the bars of his mental cage. “What else did the Lord Elk send with you, Lord Emperor? A crooning concubine for the dull, dusty travel?” He sighed that he couldn't control his tongue.

“He might have, Lord General. I don't remember,” Snarling Jaguar said, as if the matter were beneath him.

“The Lord Emperor Jaguar should guard his concubines vigilantly,” Guarding Bear needled, telling himself to stop. “A hungry tiger stalks the Windy Mountains.”

“More than a hungry tiger, Lord General. All the wolves gather to feast on the sheep fattening to the east.”

“Beware the sacrificial lamb, Lord Emperor Jaguar. What looks like juicy mutton is actually a lean wolf in sheep's clothing.” Guarding Bear felt so tired of being a wolf he wished he were a sheep. Then he chuckled at himself. Much better to be a guarding bear, eh? Infinite grant me the strength to be exactly who
I
want to be!

Snarling Jaguar chuckled, his voice deep. “I must yield, Lord General. You're so much more adept at this playful banter than I.”

“The Lord Emperor Jaguar wastes praise on enemies.” I'm not Snarling Jaguar's enemy! Guarding Bear thought. “So much better, I think, to save praise for allies, wherever they might be, eh Lord?”

Snarling Jaguar frowned, then smiled as though to cover his discomfort. “Oh, I agree, Lord General. I praise
all
my allies.”

“Instruct me on a minute point of statecraft, Lord Emperor Jaguar. Is it better to give an ally fine words or fine gifts?” Why can't I stop acting this way? Guarding Bear wondered. Infinite blast it, why can't I stop!

“Most people quickly forget fine words, Lord General, and long remember fine gifts.”

Instinctively, Guarding Bear pounced on Snarling Jaguar's argumentative jugular. “If you gave all allies what you've given one ally, Lord Emperor Jaguar, you'd have nothing left in your menagerie, eh?”

Guarding Bear's pain of being unable to change his behavior began to mutate into something ugly, something animal, something feral.

* * *

Why does he look so angry? Snarling Jaguar wondered, deciding not to respond to the verbal thrust. Think! the Emperor told himself.

When Flying Arrow had first appointed Guarding Bear his mediator, Snarling Jaguar had welcomed the idea, wanting the chance simply to talk with the other man. Since he respected—and would almost admit to liking—the General, Snarling Jaguar had always wondered what Guarding Bear the person was like. The Emperor wouldn't have let such an opportunity pass, even at such an unsocial event.

Guarding Bear's relentless probing throughout the negotiations had felt like an interrogation, however. Even after Snarling Jaguar had yielded victory in the verbal joust, Guarding Bear had continued to needle him—leaving him groping for reasons.

Arriving the morning before, he'd heard the rumors of alliance between himself and Scowling Tiger. Well-advised enough not to make a foolish pact with an outlaw, Snarling Jaguar had discounted the rumors, knowing them planted. Most Emperors used the psychic flow to spread such misinformation. He knew Flying Arrow had only one purpose in concocting the rumors: To gain an advantage here today. Snarling Jaguar had laughed within, savoring his expected victory over Guarding Bear and Flying Arrow.

Now, thinking a Bear spy had infiltrated his entourage, Snarling Jaguar believed the whisper that Guarding Bear had the most extensive spy network anywhere. Little surprise that he knows about Scowling Tiger's call to arms, the Emperor thought.

What he'd never expected was the incongruity between Guarding Bear's speech and behavior. Why's he so angry? Snarling Jaguar wondered. Does he truly think I'd ally myself with his ancient enemy? Why does an astute man like Guarding Bear deceive himself that way? How can I prove I have no alliance? Ah ha, I know…

“I'll never exhaust the Menagerie, Lord General.” A gleam in his eye, Snarling Jaguar crashed metalled fist into metalled palm to emphasize his words. “The animals are far too valuable to
give
away, but I often
trade
them away!”

“What?!” Guarding Bear asked.

“Lord General, I didn't give the tiger cub to the bandit general Scowling Tiger and I haven't allied myself with him, as you've worked so hard to imply. I merely traded the beast for a creature far more valuable!” Snarling Jaguar leaned back and loosed a bright snarl of laughter toward the ceiling. His ferocious hilarity ceasing abruptly, the Emperor looked back among his functionaries and signaled.

Guarding Bear sighed, his relief plain. “Thank the Infinite, Lord Emperor Jaguar. I knew you too wise to make that bandit an ally, but I don't understand, Lord. What creature? You didn't bring any animals back from the Windy Mountains.”

A struggle near the palanquin added to the activity behind Snarling Jaguar. He snarled an order, and the crack of fist on face ended the struggle. A lightly-armored, heavily armed guard carried a limp, sheet-wrapped form toward the empty floor. The warrior dumped the bundle beside the Emperor. “Animal, Lord General? I didn't mention an animal. You should have better information.” He ripped the sheet away.

Her skin the pink of chrysanthemums and her hair the white of freshly fallen snow, the unconscious woman groaned. A thread of bright crimson trickled from lip to chin. Gasps swept through the nobles of the Eastern Empire, the Traitress known to them all, her name Fleeting Snow.

Guarding Bear, former Commanding General of the Eastern Armed Forces, conqueror of the Northern Empire, and Prefect of the Caven Hills, leaped at the Southern Emperor Snarling Jaguar.

A
sectathon measures disruptions in the psychic flow the same way an eye measures light. The psychic receptors in the prefrontal lobes of the brain, just behind the forehead, detect minute variations in the intensity, direction and frequency of ambient psychic energy. With this talent a sectathon can identify people from a distance, even a person using mindshields, because of the shields themselves. The only two ways to prevent a sectathon from identifying someone are to place the person behind an electrical shield or beyond the range of the sectathon's talent. To identify someone, the sectathon has to know the signature's attributes and must be close enough to distinguish those attributes.—
Sectathonics: The Psychic Eye
, by the Sectathon Wizard Probing Gaze.

The electrical circuits in the Imperial Sword generate a psychic connection with the Heir Sword, enabling an Emperor to control who wields it. To keep an Heir Sword from usurping hands or to remove an appointed Heir, an Emperor needs only to order the Heir Sword to reject its wielder through these circuits. Most Heirs disinherited this way die, but some do not. Whether a disinheriting kills an Heir depends upon the length of time he wields the Sword, his flexibility of mind, how much his psychic signature changes while he wields the Sword, and the physical distance between the Heir and the Sword at the time of disinheriting.—
The Best and Worst of Talismans: The Imperial Swords
, by the Wizard Flowing Mind.

* * *

“Eeeeee! I'd hack off my left foot to be at those negotiations!” the bandit Leaping Elk exclaimed, slapping the water with an open palm.

On the psychic flow, they saw Flying Arrow bow to Snarling Jaguar.

Slithering Snake smiled through the steam, enjoying the hot bath. Not interested in the momentous meeting across the border, he raised his mindshields. “While I might like to be there to see all the nobility, Lord, I'm glad I'm here.” The sectathon spoke in the language of the south, Leaping Elk having a limited understanding of the Eastern language.

The two men were deep within the volcanic mountain in a steaming pool of nearly scalding water too mineral-laden to drink. Nearly fifty feet in diameter at the mouth, the lava tube itself was the Elk Raiders' home. Lava had cooled across the bottom to form a floor almost flat. To make it easier to defend, they'd altered the collapsed mouth. The five hundred outlaws lived in the first quarter mile. Beyond that, the tube sloped sharply downward into the mountain. At a mile underground the stench of sulfur became so pungent that the air was unbreathable for long, but
was
acceptable for short baths.

Leaping Elk smiled at his lieutenant. “You're like me, my friend—no ambition.”

“I've got ambition!” Slithering Snake protested. “So do
you
, eh? You'd take your brother's
throne
if you could.”

The black bandit's good mood evaporated.

I've put my sword in my mouth this time! Slithering Snake thought. “Forgive me, Lord Elk. I was joking and didn't realize …”

Leaping Elk waved it away. “Even after all these years, the old wounds still hurt. You haven't offended me, my friend. Our society in the Southern Empire is like yours in the East—the eldest son inherits, regardless of ability. The sadness is the cost we pay for our primogeniture. Our societies place unreasonable expectations on the first-born, demands we must fulfill whether we can or not.”

Thinking to distract the older man, the sectathon said, “I was happy to see how well you and your brother got along—for as long as it lasted. I enjoyed his visit, but I thought you two were going to kill each other as he was leaving.”

Nodding, Leaping Elk grunted. “I'd have liked our parting not to have been so acrimonious. Snarling Jaguar and I have always done that after spending a few days together. Even so, he looks happier as Emperor than I could have been.”

How can he be so forgiving? Slithering Snake wondered. Guessing his liege lord was far away, the sectathon held his tongue. Despite their long association, Slithering Snake didn't often hear the disinherited Heir talk about his past. The sectathon knew Leaping Elk's history from others. Rarely did the Southerner say anything specific about the events that had brought him north to an existence without honor, without comfort, without face. He should hate his brother! Slithering Snake thought.

“Some people think I should hate my brother,” Leaping Elk said.

He certainly has every right to…

“I've every right to, I know,” Leaping Elk said, “but I don't hate him—I love him. He was my friend when no one else would dare. Long ago we made our peace with each other.” The Southerner peered through the steam toward his trusted lieutenant. “I've told this to no one, Lord Snake. I want you to tell no one what I'm about to say, do you hear?”

“Yes, Lord Elk. I'll tell no one.” Slithering Snake frowned. Friend? Made peace with him? Leaping Elk's insane! How can a man love the brother who stole from him the most influential station in his native land, and hunted him for years, declaring to all how much he hated him? Slithering Snake leaned forward in the water, wanting to hear every word.

“My life is a tale of shame and ignominy,” Leaping Elk began. “The Emperor Scratching Jaguar groomed me, his first-born son Leaping Jaguar, to become Emperor after him. The Infinite intervened, though, and gave him a second son. During a border skirmish with the Western Empire, I simply walked off the battlefield for no reason. The Western Forces battled back the tide of Southern Warrior. As they were about to rout the Southern Forces, Snarling Jaguar took command and annihilated the Western Battalion.

“When he heard what happened, Scratching Jaguar disinherited me with the Imperial Sword, ordering me to the castle to face charges of treason. At the time of disinheriting, I wasn't wearing the Heir Sword. I'd entrusted it to a friend, or so the rumor said. Most warriors don't trust their mates with their swords long enough to clean them. I was far enough away that the disinheriting didn't injure me seriously. The psychic shock did kill my friend and several companions.

“Imperial minions chained me, dampered me and escorted me to the castle like a common criminal. Along the way, bandits ambushed the escort and in the confusion I escaped. My father declared me an outlaw and ordered me killed on sight. A man running from his fate is guilty by implication: If innocent, why does he run? Shortly afterward, Scratching Jaguar formally invested Snarling Jaguar as his Heir.

“For four years, I lived in the mountains, never sleeping in the same place twice, Imperial warriors hunting me most of the time. Twice they captured me, and twice I escaped. During my fourth year as a fugitive, my father died. Snarling Jaguar became the Southern Emperor. Although he didn't pardon me, the Emperor didn't pursue me as relentlessly as our father had. While my brother often spoke ill of me, he permitted me to live a nomadic life. Only when I settled somewhere did Snarling Jaguar send a detachment to capture me. They never did. For some reason, I always evaded my pursuers after my father's death.

“When the Northern and Eastern Empires went to war, I'd survived in exile on the fringes of the Southern Empire for nearly seven years. After Guarding Bear defeated the Northern Empire, I fled to the empty northern lands with a group of fellow outlaws, changing my name to Leaping Elk. Now, home's more than the place I camp, even if it consists of a cave hewn from the wall of a larger cavern.

“Over the years, most of the Southerners I brought north returned south. The remainder died of cold and broken hearts, lonely for their warmer climes and families. Now, you're the only Elk Raider who speaks the Southern language, Lord Snake. I'm phenomenally inept with the Eastern language, which most bandits speak. I manage with a pidgin of telepathic images and short sentences. Since you're my translator and lieutenant, Lord Snake, you enjoy my confidences, few though they are. Rarely do I say even this much, eh?”

Knowing all this about Leaping Elk, Slithering Snake nodded.

“That's my story—as the histories record it.” The disinherited heir sighed sadly. “It's easy to live with those lies, because the truth…” Leaping Elk sighed again, his gaze downcast.

A long time later, the man continued. “While Snarling Jaguar and I were growing up, we always competed with each other. Even though he's younger, he always beat me, whether at a javelin contest or a spelling test. While I was playing with my friends, he was studying or practicing with his sword. Later, when we were both generals, we'd stage mock battles against each other. It was the only time I ever beat him at anything; I liked nothing better than war.

“As my father began to age, my brother and I both began to assume some of his duties. It was obvious to us both who liked it better and who was better at it. We couldn't convince my father; he was adamant that I become Emperor. So my brother and I devised this little ruse.

“We planned that skirmish with the Western Battalion and its result. We had no choice.” Leaping Elk sighed, staring at the steamy surface of the water. “My father was furious. During his last years, when dementia set in, he raved most the time, recognizing no one, angry with everyone. No medacor could cure the dementia because of the Imperial Sword. My brother denies it, but I've heard that my father cursed both his sons on his deathbed. He had reason to be angry: From the moment he disinherited me, my brother helped me all he could. He found ways to free me when they captured me. Later, he always warned me when he sent warriors against me. Snarling Jaguar was and is my friend, despite his frequent denouncements. My brother has to maintain the charade of hostility, as do I.”

“Oh? Then that fight you two had as he left—”

“We staged, my friend.” Shrugging, Leaping Elk sighed again. “It's sad that the primogeniture of our society is so rigid that the man better qualified to be Emperor can't assume the position without elaborate subterfuge. So I, first-born son of an Emperor, live this humble existence. I'm happier than I'd have been if I'd succeeded my father. My only regret is I can't live in my native land, serving my brother the Lord Emperor like any other citizen.”

“Lord Elk, I think you're more loyal to your Empire than anyone will ever know.” I'd better change my definition of loyalty! the sectathon thought.

Leaping Elk smiled. “It pleases me to hear you say that, my friend. Indeed, my loyalty to the Southern Empire guides all my actions. I value what is better for the people there, as does Snarling Jaguar.”

Slithering Snake saw his liege lord's sadness. He sensed underneath the sadness Leaping Elk's conviction that he'd placed the interests of the Empire above his own. “Thank you for telling me, Lord Elk.” Slithering Snake leaned back in the water and prayed he might find the strength to be so loyal.

What a life of luxury I live, he thought. Well, aside from being a bandit. The Emperor Snarling Jaguar, his brother Leaping Elk, and the bandit general Scowling Tiger all trust and respect me. Two years ago, I couldn't have imagined I'd become so important. I didn't have a glimpse I might be anything more than a simple bandit warrior.

Until Leaping Elk asked me to negotiate a trade.

The negotiations had taken nearly a year to complete. Then Snarling Jaguar didn't come north to make the trade for another six months. He arrived a few days before the negotiations to settle the border dispute with the Eastern Empire, one journey easier than two.

Snarling Jaguar had brought a domesticated tiger from the Imperial Menagerie, the Jaguar Family having bred the collection of exotic animals for ten generations. Everyone thought the tame, talented animals priceless, the equivalent of an Imperial Sword. With their talents, a man might garner for himself the influence and power of an Emperor. With the help of one, the first Emperor Jaguar had usurped the Southern throne.

While talismans were illegal in all four Empires, the animals weren't. In the last century, rumors said the Jaguar Family bred animals more powerful than the Swords themselves. No one had ever proved these rumors. The Jaguars always kept the better specimens for themselves. Many influential Westerners and Easterners thought the Emperor should declare the animals illegal and kill them.

* * *

Leaping Elk and Slithering Snake escorted the Emperor to a secure valley for the trade. In front of a tent sat Scowling Tiger, in robes striped white, tan and black, his left fist propped on his thigh. One pace ahead and to the side of the bandit general stood his murderous retainer Raging River. Ten paces from him sat Snarling Jaguar, at his feet a half-grown female tiger cub.

“Capturing spies is only one of her talents,” Snarling Jaguar said. A few minutes before, when the trainers had opened the palanquin cage, the tiger had leaped upon a bandit and raked her claws across the man's face. Under her torture he admitted he was Guarding Bear's spy. “Infinite knows how many spies Guarding Bear has in the fortress, Lord General Tiger. I hope what you bring in trade is of equal value.”

“I have two spies everywhere that dog-hounded beast has one,” Scowling Tiger said, spitting. “I bring an albino specimen you'll surely find alluring, Lord Emperor Jaguar. A prize addition to any menagerie, animal or otherwise.” Scowling Tiger snapped the fingers of his left hand, then propped the fist back on his thigh. Behind him, the tent flaps parted.

She wore a white silk dress that reached the ground and hung from her pale pink shoulders by two thin straps. A string of pearls dangled from her slim supple neck and a bracelet of pearls encircled one elegant wrist. Her skin was the pink of chrysanthemum, her eyes the red of sky at dusk. Whiter than snow, her hair hung to her waist like a waterfall frozen. She stepped forward with the carriage of an Empress, with infinite spirituality, without a shred of self-consciousness. Kneeling before Snarling Jaguar, she greeted him in a voice suggesting the music of earth and sky. The sight and sound of her hypnotized them all.

“Lord Emperor Jaguar, allow me to introduce my mate, Fleeting Snow.”

Bowing to her, Snarling Jaguar looked at her with compassion in his eyes. “Lady Snow, I congratulate you on the birth of your child.” His voice was gentle as rain. “Most of all, I honor you for the depth and endurance of your loyalty.”