The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (15 page)

“A
variety of herbal ingredients,” said the Aegypshan. “Among which, crushed
apricot seeds, fermented rice and blood.”

The
chalice clattered to the floor.

“Blood?”
said Sireth.

“Blood?”
said Kirin.

“Apricot
seeds?” said Fallon.

The
Captain grabbed the Seer’s arm, for the man had taken a step toward the woman,
but he wished in his soul of souls that he could let go. Among a carnivorous
people, there were certain rules. Certain taboos that must be followed in order
to maintain their distance from the vast population of carnivorous animals that
roamed the Upper Kingdom. And the First and most Sacred of those rules forbade
the eating of people. No killing of any Race, pure or otherwise, for the
purpose of consumption. No tissue, no organ, and most of all no blood, for the
life was in the blood. It was Abomination.

“Whose
blood?” the Seer snarled,
“Whose blood?!”

“It
is a fair question,
sidala.
Answer
it.”

“The blood of the Seers, lying in
the Chamber of the Dead.”

Sireth
staggered backwards, turning toward the kitchen hearths and covering his face
with his hands.

Kirin swung to face the Alchemist.

“Tell me this is necessary,
sidala.”

“It is necessary,
sidi.
The Seers have all died at the
hand of the same enemy. The face of that enemy lies within them, in their souls
and in their blood. Even now, they can impart strength and wisdom to one of
their number.”

Fallon stepped beside her, twisting
one of her tunic laces into knots.

“As strange as it may sound, sir, Sherah
is right. There is a theory in the University that not only life but healing
can be found in the blood of the dying. I read about a physician who took a
measure of blood from a very sick man, a man whose entire village was dying of
the pox. He distilled that blood and gave it to a child and the child survived,
with only a very mild presentation of symptoms. There are many things to be
found in the blood, things we are only beginning to understand. Sir.”

 
She seemed so
earnest
, thought the Captain,
standing in defense of one so damned
.

The
Scholar now turned her worried brow in al Shiva’s direction.

“But Sherah, why apricot seeds?”

“To
slow the heart, of course.”

“But
apricot seeds are the foundation of the deadliest of poisons. If your measures
are just the slightest bit wrong—”

“They
are not wrong.”

“You
had no right,” growled benAramis, silhouetted by flame. “They were my friends.
You had no right!”

He
swung around, taking several long steps but before he could reach her, his
right leg buckled beneath him. Only Ursa’s swift response kept him from hitting
the stony floor. Still, he came. The Captain intervened, catching the other arm
and together they pushed him to his knees. By the hearth, Tiberius held fast to
the talon leathers as the falcon shrieked and cried, furiously shredding his
arm in its attempt to aid her master.

“She had no right...” muttered the
Seer, “She had no right...”

“She had no right but she bears no
blame. I commissioned this medicine. The responsibility is mine. Do you
understand this?” Kirin bent in close, for the Seer’s head was bowed and his
dark hair fell long past his face. “You can take this up with me later. Do you
understand?”

“I will, Captain. Be sure of it.”

His words were thick and slurred.
Kirin sought out the point on the throat that throbbed with life, the point
where heart met soul. It was slow, slowing even as he found it and the man’s
lids were closing like curtains darkening a window. Beneath his hand, tension
drained from the muscles as the Alchemist’s medicines began their work.

“Well, there you go,” said Fallon
brightly. “Apricot seeds.”

The Captain looked up and around at
his charges. This was wrong. They did not belong.

And to make matters all the worse,
Tiberius was frowning at him.

“A word,
sidi,
if I may?”

Kirin rose to his feet. “Keep him
down, Major.”

“He’s going nowhere, sir.”

The monk led him toward another
hearth, a slight distance away from the others. The humidity was taking its
toll on the older man, for his silver hair was slick against his forehead and
he was panting. Even still, the man radiated peace and Kirin found himself
envious once again.

“Sidi,
please accept my humblest apologies if what I say causes offence but I’m afraid
I must warn you against touching a Seer with your bare hands.

“I meant no disrespect, Tiberius.”

“No,
sidi,
it is not a matter of respect. It is very unwise. It can damage
the soul.”

“Do not concern yourself with the
state of my soul, Tiberius.”

“Not your soul, Captain. His.”

With
a gentle smile, Tiberius bowed. It brought a subtle end to the conversation,
encouraged him to rejoin the group. Kirin did, slowly and very deeply in
thought.

The next few hours dragged by, with
hardly two words spoken by any one tongue. The fires raged on. The kettles
boiled and spilled their contents over their brims, causing new steam to hiss
upwards from the sizzling char. Limbs grew as limp as hair and people sat in
puddles of arms and legs and discarded clothing. And Kirin was beginning to
wonder if the Watch might close without incident. That, he concluded, would be
a problem.

He cast his eyes over his people.

Side by side, sat Kerris and
Fallon, knees up, backs against a far wall. They appeared to be comparing the
tips of their tails.

“I seem to recall saying something
about great hot vats of water, earlier,” Kerris was saying, plucking several
long grey strands from his tuft. “Remind me to keep my mouth shut in the
future, will you? After tonight, I shall seriously reconsider my infatuation
with swimming...”

“Did you talk to her?”

“Her
who?”

Fallon kinked her neck and jaw
sideways toward him, trying to look discreet, but succeeding only in looking
dislocated.

“The Alchemist. Did you ask her
about the snake?”

“What
snake?”

“The cobra, the one on the
bluff...” She turned wide emerald eyes on him. “The one your pony stomped to
bits...”

“Quiz hates snakes. And there are
no cobras in the Great Mountains. I’m sorry,
sidala
, but there was never any snake. Never.” He looked away from
her. “Never.”

Openmouthed, Fallon looked away
too.

The
Seer still knelt on the stony floor, head bowed, arms loose at his sides, palms
resting on the floor. His eyes were closed and his breathing was very slow, but
regular. He looked as if he might be sleeping, so every few minutes the Major
would poke him, prod him, anything to get a reaction. She actually seemed to
enjoy it. Kirin shook his head. He would have to speak to her about it at a
later date.

Only the Alchemist seemed unmindful
of the heat or the crushing humidity and she sat, plaiting her hair into long
ebon braids, humming all the while in strange, exotic keys.

Perhaps it was the bubbling of pots
and the crackling of fires, filling the room with an endless stream of noise
that caused the delay. Or perhaps it was fatigue, for he was tired and
conditions were oppressive but at some point, Kirin realized that there was a
sound.

He
sat forward. It was a faint sound, a grating, whining, scraping noise that set
one’s teeth on edge. Much like the sound of claws on rock.
Yes
,
claws
on rock,
he thought to himself.
That’s exactly what it sounded like.

He cursed himself and scrambled to
his feet.

Black claws unsheathed through
slits in brown leather, digging into the floor with increasing force.

The seventh and last Seer was not
breathing.

“Blankets!” he snapped, and
immediately, all hands were available, working to drape the robed back in thick
woolen sheets.

Kirin grabbed the man’s shoulders, tried
to shake the air into him but they were rigid, stiff, and bitterly cold. He
bent lower, pulling the chin up and noticing the icy beard crunch under his
fingers.

“Breathe.
Breathe.” He growled, “Sireth benAramis, can you hear me? I order you to
breathe!”

But the eyes were glassy and far
away, with the wild, fixed stare of one firmly in the grips of fear.

“I said
breathe!”

No
response. Next to him, her teeth gritted, Ursa was vainly shaking her charge,
trying to relieve her sense of helpless frustration. Tiberius was hovering over
them all, wringing his great wide hands. The falcon was screeching. Still no
response.

The
Captain did the only thing he could think of doing. He balled his hand into a
fist and sent it thudding into the Seer’s abdomen, forcing the air out of his
lungs and praying the loss would cause more to be drawn in as reflex.

His prayers that night were
answered, for the Seer did indeed breathe in a great shuddering gasp. The panic
was far from ended, however and he pitched forward, claws slicing against stone,
leather, and flesh. The scrabble of heels as the Major lunged toward him,
locking her arms under his and hauling him backwards off the Captain. She was a
good deal lighter than her charge but within seconds, she had him pinned to her
chest, fingers laced across the back of his neck, the muscles in her arms
standing out like steel cords.

“Kirin,
you’re bleeding!”

He slapped his brother’s hand away
and scrambled back into the fray.

“Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. All wrong.”

The Seer was panting now, eyes
still focused far beyond the confines of the kitchen and his teeth chattered
uncontrollably. The ends of his hair, which had only minutes before been
dripping with condensation were now white with frost.

“It’s all wrong. Max, what the hell
is going on? Max, where are you?”

“You
are here, in
Sha’Hadin
. Can you hear me?”

“Max?”

“No.
You—”

“Max,
it’s too cold! Initiate core warming immediately! I can’t breathe!”

“You
can breathe, for you are breathing now. And you are warm. Can’t you feel the
warmth? Feel it.”

For emphasis, Kirin dragged another
blanket from the pile at his side, tugging it up over the man’s chest and
wrapping it around the stiffened fingers. The claws still extruded through the
gloves.

“See? Warm.”

“No.
I can’t breathe!”

“Listen
to me. You are talking. You are breathing. You are warm. Believe it.”

“How?”

“I have no idea,
sidi,
but it is the truth. Can you feel
the warmth?”

“No...Yes,
I can. It’s...it’s warm now. Is it? But how? Is that you, Max?”

“No.”

“Why
am I awake? Is it time?”

“I’m
not certain. But you are safe, you are warm and you can breathe.”

“I must be dreaming this. Am I
dreaming? How can I be dreaming? You can’t dream in cryo.”

“Wow.
He sounds like a tiger.”

Kirin glanced up. Fallon Waterford
was standing over them, her mouth twisting into knots of wonder. Briskly, she
nodded at him, as if it were as plain as day.

“No accent.”

She
was right.

The
Captain leaned forward.

“Who are you?”

“Initiate core warming. Begin
infusion of liquid Oh Too. Get this procedure back on track, Max.” The Seer
closed his eyes. “Or this cold is going to kill me...”

“You
are not going to die.”

“If
you say so.”

“Who
is Max?”

“Don’t
wake any of the others, do you understand? Not until we’ve got this mess
straightened out. Have you got that? Have you?”

“Yes.
Yes, I think so.”

“You
better hope so, or I’ll pull your plug myself.” The strange, unaccented voice
was growing sluggish, the breathing deeper, less ragged and Sireth began to
sink into the Major’s strong arms. “I think, I think I’m going to go back to
sleep now. Wake me when the procedure’s complete. And whoever the hell you are,
get online with Max, will you? This is really, really bad.”

Save for the bubbling and the
hissing and the roaring of flame, and the soft chirruping of a falcon, there
was silence in the kitchens of
Sha’Hadin.

Kirin
reached out his hand, seeking the point where heart met soul. The pulse was
slow but strong. The seventh and last Seer was alive. They had succeeded. He
sighed, and rubbed his brow, only then noticing the bright ribbons of blood
standing out on his forearms. And what was worse, he had another headache.

But
tears were flowing into Tiberius’ broad, broad smile and suddenly things were
right in
Sha’Hadin.

And
the gong sounded the Close of the Second Watch.

It was the dawn of the third
morning since the adventure had begun. The third morning since Kerris
Wynegarde-Grey had been so unceremoniously roused from his bed after only four
hours of sleep. It was a remarkably similar one, he had noted, cool and crisp
with a skyful of clouds. But this morning, one thing was drastically different.
Everywhere he looked, the Great Mountains were covered in snow.

It
was not unusual for the mountains to receive snow rather than rain during one
of her many spring storms. Indeed, snow was the lifeblood of all high places,
dripping into rivulets, then streams, then mighty rushing rivers in its endless
quest for level ground. And snow, being cold and heavy, falls faster than water
through the valleys that channel its path, rushing like wild horses to throw
itself off the very edges of the earth.

Kerris
knew all about such things. He had seen it happen time and time again. He had
followed rivers to their sources and discovered that these rivers were in fact
simply snow warmed by sun. He had chased this racing snow through foothill and
jungle alike, marveling as it changed colors from white to brown to deepest
blue, always to end up in the same place. The oceans. And like a wild horse, he
too had followed that snow off the edge into the oceans. Somehow he had never
mustered the courage to pursue it farther out as far as the waters would go,
beyond the edge of the world.

He
smiled to himself. One day, he would. He was certain of it.

He tugged on the black mare’s
girth.

“Oh, there’s more to life than
horses, Kerris. Can’t be hiding in stables all your life, now can you, Kerris?
Oh and by the way Kerris be up before dawn, will you and have the horses ready.
There’s a good man.”

Rodreigo
was laughing behind him.

“Why do you always talk to
yourself,
sidalord
grey lion?”

“Perhaps because I can hold up both
ends of a conversation and quite happily too. Besides, by talking to yourself,
you are guaranteed never to lose an argument and you always have someone to
blame when you do.”

Rodreigo
laughed some more.

With
a huff of breath, Kerris stepped back and ran his eyes along the row of horses
standing outside the stable’s stony walls. Not including the pack animals, they
had thirteen horses. Little Quiz was herd boss. The pony stood at the head of
the row, ears flat, teeth bared, squealing and snapping at any who dared
contest his authority. Kerris laid a steadying hand on the pony’s shoulder.
Thirteen horses, thirteen riders. He shook his head.

“Rather
convenient, isn’t it, how we managed to lose one leopard but keep his horse.
Otherwise, your Seer would be riding a goat.”

Rodreigo
howled this time, literally clutching his sides to keeping his lungs from
bursting out his skinny ribcage. With such an appreciative audience, Kerris
could not resist the temptation to mimic the image. He scrunched up his left
eye and dragged his legs along the ground, smacking an imaginary goat with the
tip of his tail.

“Hai-hai
there, Imperial goat! Off to the Palace. Hai-hai now!”

Rodreigo
hit the dirt, rolling around in fits of hysteria and gasping in vain attempt to
catch his breath. Kerris straightened his back, clasped his hands to his hips –a
perfect imitation of his brother.

“Breathe, Rodreigo. Breathe. I am
Kirin Wynegarde-Grey, Captain of the Queen’s Guard. I order you now to breathe
or I’ll punch your guts in.”

Abruptly, the laughter died.

“Good
morning, Kerris.”

 
Kerris swung around,
smiling.

“Ah, good morning, Kirin. I was
just explaining to my friend here how we saved the Seer last night. Wasn’t I,
Rodreigo?”

Wide-eyed,
Rodreigo waited for the flash of steel that would undoubtedly take off his
head.

“We,
Kerris?” growled the Captain. “How
we
managed to save the Seer?”

“Yes,
we. First is luck, remember? And Rodreigo claims I’m a lucky omen. He knew we
would save the Seer. Isn’t that right, Rodreigo?”

Rodreigo
swallowed and nodded swiftly. He was a serval, a small one at that, and he
glanced between the bigger cats with quick, anxious looks.

“And
he was right, wasn’t he? You know, I wonder if Rodreigo hasn’t got a bit of the
Gift himself, eh Rodreigo? He certainly is a splendid judge of character.”

“Forgive me,
sidis
. I-I-I must wash up for morning prayers.”

And with that, he grabbed an armful
of brushes and scurried into the shadows of the rock. Kerris watched him go.

“You
enjoy frightening children, Kirin? I thought that was Ursa’s job.”

“Kerris...”
The Captain turned to regard his brother, grinding his molars to restrain his
tongue. “Kerris, thank you for saddling the horses. And thank you for your help
last night.”

 
Kerris shrugged and
leaned across the back of his pony.

“I tossed the stones this morning,
Kirin. The
Paghuah
says there is no
good to be found on that trail. And I don’t like the look of those mountains,
either. That snow won’t stay. By midday, it’ll be racing for the valleys like
kittens for candy.”

“We
have no choice, Kerris. We must reach
Pol’Lhasa
today.”

“Why?”

The
Captain shook his head.

“Right.
Not my place,” said Kerris. “That’s fine. But as your Geomancer and Guide then,
I really don’t advise it.”

They
turned as a party of leopard guards marched in perfect formation from one of
the monastery’s seven entrances. Sandwiched in between were the Scholar and the
Alchemist, neither looking particularly refreshed from the mere three hours of
sleep before early rise this morning. Kirin could not allow that to concern
him, however, for today, they needed to make good time, even more so than
before. He would accept no less.

“Ah,
sidali,”
said Kerris, “Allow me to
escort you to your horses.”

Emerald
eyes flashed at him.

“Are you sure it’s really there? I
mean, I would hate to try to mount a horse that wasn’t really there.” She
brushed past him and slipped her foot in the stirrup. “Besides, I think I’ve
got the basics now. Now that I’ve stopped to think about it, and all...”

Within seconds, she was up and in
position, head held just a little too high, back just a little too straight.
And, Kirin thought, the laces of her forest-green cloak a little too tight at
her throat.

Kerris
rolled his eyes at his brother.

“I gave her a bit of a lesson
yesterday. She fell off,” he whispered loudly. “I daresay she wounded a bit
more than her pride...”

Fallon
huffed but said nothing.

“Now,
sidalady
cheetah?”

“Kerris, you help the guards ready
the pack horses. I will help the lady.”

And without allowing for a
response, the Captain took the long, speckled hand and led the woman towards
her black mare and away from his brother.

Naturally,
she needed no assistance and she mounted with languid grace, forcing him to
watch her long, ebon-clad legs wrap around the animal like a second skin. She drew
the hood of her black cloak up and over her forehead so that her wide, golden
eyes peered out from the shadows.

“Thank
you for your help,
sidi,”
she purred.

Kirin
shook his head.

Lastly,
there were voices as three final figures approached the party and the Captain
bit back a smile. For each of the Seer’s long strides, both the Major and the
lynx Tiberius were forced to take two in effort to keep up. For the Major, this
presented no problem. Tiberius, on the other hand, was puffing as the trio
pulled to a stop in front of the horses. The old man smiled at him. The Seer
did not.

“Captain,
your message?”

Kirin handed him a scrap of
parchment and watched as the man fixed it to one of the falcon’s legs, binding
it securely with the talon leathers. He placed two fingers on the hood over the
hidden eyes.

“Pol’Lhasa
,”
Sireth breathed softly, then removed the hood.

The falcon launched from his arm,
crying in her shrill, sharp voice as she rose into the morning sky. Within
moments, she was gone. He turned to regard the Captain with more than a trace
of hostility.

“There
is one final matter before we embark on our journey, Captain.”

“And
what would that be,
sidi?”

“Sha’Hadin.”

“Sha’Hadin?”

“Yes,
Captain. The monastery is left without leadership. You have abolished the
Council and removed me from office. You yourself have assumed responsibility
but now you leave, and I doubt that you intend on returning anytime soon. I
wish to know what you intend for the 500 who remain, 500 of the Empire’s truest
servants. Would you have them also pack their bags and depart?”

Kirin
could hear Ursa growling behind, saw her hand move to the hilt of her sword. He
shook his head and clasped his own firmly behind his back.

“
Sidi,
your anger, while understandable, is misplaced. I hereby
confer all authority for the daily operations of the monastery onto Tiberius’
capable shoulders, until the reestablishment of the Council and the return of
its last surviving member. Tiberius, does this suit you?”

The
lynx smiled again and bowed most deeply.

Kirin
turned to the Seer.

“And you?”

“For
now.”

“Very well. Major, please show the
Seer to his horse. We must depart immediately if we are to make
Pol’Lhasa
by sunset.” He turned to Tiberius, laid both hands on the man’s shoulders. “The
Empress will know of your service,
sidi.”

The
monk simply shook his head.

“Unnecessary,
sidi.
You have saved
Sha’Hadin.
That is more than enough.’

With
a smile, the Captain mounted his Imperial stallion. He surveyed the group
assembled in the deep ravine – the seven guards, the Scholar, Alchemist,
Seer, Major and their Guide. He cast his eyes up the sharp escarpment, its high
ridge just now glowing with the golden rays of dawn. Out of its stony walls,
the Cave of a Thousand Eyes watched the Life of the World, preserving the
future of the Upper Kingdom. He prayed they would watch forever.

He
nudged alMassay forward.

“Move
out.”

***

By noon, they had reached the split
in the trail, the small grassy knoll where high and low paths converged.
Naturally, they had returned by the low path for on roads as wet and dangerous
as these, they needed sure footing to ensure the best time. Water ran in
widening streams across the trail and in some cases, the horses were made to
leap over ragged ditches created by the runoff. The sun was high and hot,
promising the return to more typical spring weather and again cloaks weighed
heavily on their backs as they descended slowly from the mountains of
Sha’Hadin.

They
had passed the Inn and the markets and the cleft in the road where carts tended
to stick, all without incident. It seemed that today, they might make their
destination by sunset. The Captain smiled a small smile.

The
Empress would be pleased.

He
let his gaze wander down the trail, to the winding river of horses that
comprised this Royal Entourage. Three leopards led the way, the Royal Standard
waving above them and leading them like an arrow to the heart of the Kingdom.
Next, the Scholar riding quite well on her rather leaden horse. Kerris had situated
Quiz immediately behind for the pony was definitely dominant in this mismatched
little herd, and its sharp teeth snapped and nipped the sluggish backside
whenever the pace grew too slow. Next the Alchemist, again somehow managing to
make her stock mare something remarkable. He had also noted, with some degree
of concern, that the little red pouch floating above her bags seemed somehow
fuller, more menacing than before.

It
didn’t matter. He would be rid of her by sunrise.

Behind
him, Sireth benAramis, Ursa Laenskaya, the three pack horses and the final four
leopards to complete the party. The Seer had been surly all morning, almost rivaling
the Major for ill temper and the Captain was forced to admit there were matters
still unsettled. He knew what they were, for he himself had invited them. With
a sigh, he reined in alMassay and pulled alongside the man.

“Sidi,
is the mount not to your
satisfaction?”

“The
horse is fine, Captain. It is the blood of the Seers that sits poorly in my
stomach.”

“Now
is not the time.”

“Will
there
be
a time, Captain? It is
cowardice to delay such a challenge.”

“It
is prudence,
sidi.
There will be a
time.”

“I
look forward to it, then.”

Behind
him, Kirin heard the Major sputter in disbelief as he nodded calmly, ignoring
the thinly veiled threat. Under normal circumstances, he would have in no way
allowed such a challenge to go unanswered. But the man had a legitimate
grievance and was obviously lion enough to demand his due. Kirin would have to
address it soon enough.

“And
you maintain no memory of the events last night?”

The
challenge postponed, the Seer shook his head.

“Nothing, Captain.
Truly
nothing,” he added with a thin smile. “My last recollection is the chalice
of... ‘medicines’ and then nothing until awakening under the Major’s watchful
eye. I believe that I’m growing accustomed to the sharpening of her claws.”

Behind
them, the Major sharpened her claws.

“Is it true I spoke in the tongue
of a tiger last night?”

“It
is true.”

Sireth
shook his head again. “A tiger. How odd.”