The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (28 page)

“After
all,” Kirin continued, “It was you who said this was madness, wasn’t it? That
you could tell no one but the Empress the fact that we are seeking an Ancestor?
That it would be - what was the word -
devastation,
if anyone knew?”

Still
nothing.

“Do
you think that they will be any more eager to find this, this ‘Soul’ if they
know what we know? Do you wish to frighten them with all this talk? Or do you
merely seek to satisfy your own curiosity? Please tell me,
sidi,
for I truly wish to know.”

It
seemed for a moment that the Seer was about to speak, but thought better of it
and continued to stare at the ground. Growling, Kirin folded his arms across
his chest.

“Very
well then. You have nothing to say now to me, I expect you to have nothing to
say later to
anyone.
I will have no more talk of Ancestors, is that
clear? This journey is dangerous enough without—”

“I
saw him.”

“You
what?”

Now,
Sireth did look up, eyes bright.

“Solomon. I saw him. Last night, I
saw an Ancestor.”

The
Captain had no response for him. In truth, the very idea of seeing an Ancestor
was enough to send chills up his own spine. They simply did not exist anymore,
had
not for Dynasties and their departure had been the cause of much speculation.
In fact, differing beliefs regarding their demise had, on many occasions,
nearly rent the Kingdom in two. It was a volatile subject, and cats are after
all, a volatile people.

“I
touched him, too. Well, almost.” The Seer continued. “He was real, Captain, as
real as you stand here before me now, he was real. And not at all like the
images in stone and glyph that are scattered throughout the Kingdom. He was so
much like us.”

“Enough.”

“He had brown eyes, just like me.
It’s
not
unnatural! I could have
sworn—”

“I said enough!” Kirin turned away,
jaw taut, mouth grim. “No more of this talk. The others—”

“But they should know. This affects
them too. Their skills, their—”

“No.
It doesn’t.”

“Of
course it does!” Sireth threw his hands into the air. “How can the Scholar understand
if she is not presented with all the facts? How can the Alchemist—”

“You
trust the Alchemist, now do you?”

“No,
but—”

“And now these ‘facts’. You did not
feel obliged to share such ‘facts’ with me back in
Sha’Hadin.”

“I
was afraid. Now—”

“Now
I
am afraid,
sidi.
This
knowledge is dangerous.”

“They
have a right to know.”

“They
will know what I allow them to know.”

“And how do you intend on keeping
it from them, Captain? There will be many, many nights spent on this journey,
and many, many of these strange late-night conversations. Do you intend on
keeping them all to yourself?”

“If
I must, yes.”

“You
will not be able to do it.”

Kirin
stepped in close.

“You would be surprised what I am
able to do,
sidi.”

High
above them, the shrill cry of a falcon echoed over the roar of the river. The
distant fire circle cast long, menacing shadows up the sides of the rock. The
wind from the ravine whipped their clothes and hair but the two stood like
stone, set against each other by the gods.
This knowledge is dangerous
,
Kirin had said and he believed that. But there was something else, something
less noble wrestling inside and try as he might, he simply could not push it
from his thoughts.

He set his jaw.

“You
will not speak of these things again. Do you understand this?”

The
Seer pulled himself to his full height, good eye glittering in the moonlight.

“Perhaps you would be surprised at
what I am able to
understand
, Captain.”

And with that, he brushed past the
lion, returning to the warmth of the fire, and the company of others.

Kirin
remained outside for some time longer.

***

It had begun again.

 
“Okay, okay, tell me
again where this
Pol’Lhasa
place is.”

Kirin sighed and rubbed his temple.
This time, Solomon was insistent, almost aggressive in his conversations, and
the Seer’s hands moved with quick, agitated motions.

“Pol’Lhasa
is the palace in the Royal City of
DharamShallah,
which lies in the
heart of the Great Mountains—”

“Mountains,
mountains, which mountains?”

“The
Great
ones, Solomon. Those which
separate the kingdoms.”

The
Seer was shaking his head.

Fallon
sat forward.

“It’s in the province of
Mepal
,
if that’s any help.”

“Sorry,
Fallon. I’m just not getting it.”

Stretched
out on the floor, chin in hands, Kerris was barely awake.

“You speak so strangely.”

“So
do you, my friends. So do you...” Solomon’s voice trailed off and he seemed
deep in thought.

“I’m
going to sleep.” The grey lion dropped his head into his arms. “Wake me if you
need me.”

“Wait
a minute...”

“You
don’t
need me. Really.”

“What
is the name of your palace again?”

“Pol’Lhasa,”
said Kirin.

“In
the province of where?”

Mepal.”

The
Seer closed his eyes. “In the mountains.”

“The Great Mountains, yes.”

“Oh
man...”

“Solomon?”

“Ohhhh
mannn...” He placed a palm over his face. “You’re in Tibet.”

“Mepal,”
corrected the Captain.

“Acttally,” corrected the Scholar.
“DharamShallah
used to be in the Province of
Hindaya,
until 200 years ago.”

Kerris
looked up.
“DharamShallah
was in
Hindaya?”

“Yep,” she nodded. “It became our
capital when we lost the battle of
Lha’Lhasa
in
Shibeth
. Then the
borders of all the provinces were redrawn and we conceded the new capital to
Mepal.
That’s why we still squabble over
Shibeth.
”

“We didn’t lose the battle!” Ursa’s
eyes flashed. “It was a
Chi’Chen
concession.”

“See? Still squabbling. So Solomon
could be right.”

“Well
done!” Kerris laughed from his bedroll. “Scholar in the Court of the Empress.”

She
felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Kirin nodded.

“So,
Solomon, you know the province of
Hindaya
,
then?”

“Yeah.
And the Great Mountains must be the Himalayas. Oh ho ho man. I am so screwed.”

“He
speaks so strangely,” Kerris muttered from the floor but his brother sat
forward.

“You
understand, Solomon? Do these words mean something to you?”

“Yes,
Captain. They mean that I’m screwed.”

“Please,
Solomon. Now
I
don’t understand.”

The
Seer sighed. “Remember where I said I was?”

“Swisserland.”

“Right.
That’s right. Well, Switzerland and the place you call
Mepal
are half a
world away.”

“Beyond
the edge of the earth.”

“Something
like that. And I have no idea what your roads are like anymore.”

Kerris
groaned. “Until we reach the Wall, the roads are no better than this one,
really. Maybe worse.”

 
Solomon continued. “Is it too much to hope that you still
have cars?”

“Carts?
We have carts but we are on horseback. It is the fastest—”

It
was Solomon’s turn to laugh. It was a strange laugh, big and hearty and lasting
far too long, finally ending with a futile wiping away of tears from unseeing
eyes. He shook his head.

“From Nepal to Switzerland. On
horseback. Maybe I should call you Marco Polo.”

There
seemed to be a measure of despair in his voice, a measure Kirin was beginning
to share.

“This is a long way?” he asked.

“Should
take, oh, I dunno, a couple of
years
! But don’t worry. I’ll be fine.
I’ll just sit right here and wait...”

“Are
you alone?”

“I
have no idea.”

“Then
we shall hurry.”

“Okay.”
A weary smile spread across the Seer’s face, to be quickly replaced by a frown.
“Okay, I’m losing you here. Can you still hear me, Captain?”

“Yes,
Solomon.”

“Captain?
I can’t hear you anymore, Captain. Or think you, or whatever we’re doing. So goodnight
all and Godspeed.”

The
Seer’s eyes grew vague, then after a few moments, sharp. Only one focused on
the Captain however, and this time, there was no hiding the contempt.

“Did
you get what you needed?” Sireth growled.

“For
tonight.”

“May
I go back to sleep now?”

“By
all means.”

He
disappeared into the recesses of the cavern. Rising to her feet, Ursa shot a
glance at her Captain.

“You
should not allow that,” she warned.

“Goodnight,
Major.”

She
too disappeared into the shadows.

“Dream
sweet, all,” mumbled Kerris as he pulled the blanket over his head.

That
left the Alchemist and the Scholar. They were both looking at him. For some
reason, he could not meet their eyes.

***

“Kirin!”

The Captain jogged his stallion up
past the river of horses until he was at Quiz’s flank. Kerris looked grim.

“Bad news, I’m afraid...”

Kirin
followed the pointing grey finger across the river. In the bright noonday sun,
it was difficult to make out exactly what his brother was pointing at. The
sides still sheered off into the
Shi’pal
below but the river had been
progressively widening the further along they journeyed. Wider, slower and
flatter she flowed, patches of ice clinging to her sides and sweeping her
banks. And yet, as he scanned the high red ridges, he could see nothing to peak
Kerris’ interest.

“What
is it, then?”

“The
bridge.”

“The
bridge?” Pulse quickening, he scanned the slopes once again and once again,
there was nothing. “I see no bridge.”

“There
you have it. The bad news.”

His
heart fell like a stone. “Are you certain this is the place?”

“Look
down.”

No
more than a man’s width from the road, there was a mound pushing out of the
snow. It was a stump, a rotted post with a scrap of twine twisting in the
breeze. Across the river, he could see a similar mound. The bridge was gone.
Kirin sat back in the saddle, gritting his teeth in frustration.

“We
cannot forge such a river. Is there no other way?”

Now Kerris sat back, brow furrowed,
chewing absent-mindedly on a thumb claw.

“Well...”

Kirin
waited for several moments. “Well?”

“Well,
if we follow the river another day, the mountains fall away. It is still fast,
but in winter the surface does freeze up some. A horse can get across. Well, at
least a pony can.”

 
“It is not winter,” Kirin growled.

“Yes, well, that might be a
problem.”

“And
we have ten horses, plus a pony.”

“Many
problems.”

“Another
day, you say?”

“Half-day,
if we ride quickly.”

“Then we shall ride quickly.” He swiveled
in his saddle. “The bridge is out! We must make good time to another crossing.
Is this understood?”

There
were nods all around and al Massay forged ahead, his powerful legs carrying him
easily past the pony. Quiz squealed and scrambled to catch up.

Behind
them both, the Alchemist smiled at the Scholar, her golden eyes mere slits in
the sunlight.

“Perhaps, you could build one of
your ‘cat-a-pults’.”

Fallon blinked several times,
glancing up at the sheer walls of the ravine, then back at her companion.

“No. No. Not really a good idea,
not really. I mean, it would work, I could build it but it would take time and
materials but one little mistake and
splat
, cat innards all over the
rocks. And the horses. No, no, I don’t think –”

“It
was a joke.”

“Oh.”

The
black mare loped forward, leaving the tigress craning her neck behind.

“That, that was funny! Really. That
was a really funny… um, joke…”

The
sound of Ursa’s snarl was enough to spur her horse onward and the band picked
up the pace toward the second crossing.

***

It was as Kerris had said. As they
rode, the
Shi’pal
widened, her banks growing less steep with each
passing hour, ice and snow clinging to her sides like hide on a brittle
carcass. She had exchanged her roaring disposition of the previous day for a
more temperate one and many forks had left her like so many wandering children.
Finally, a stretch of white from side to side, a promise of solid footing. Even
so, Kirin found himself shaking his head. The sun had long since disappeared
behind the edge of the earth, drawing the skies above them in her nightgown of
purple. It would not be long before she hid her face completely, leaving them
the impossibility of crossing this river in utter darkness.

“Well?”
said Kerris, blowing warm breath into his palms.

“This
joins the Great Wall?”

“Just
beyond that ridge. It’s actually closer here than at the rope bridge, but the
river is far wider, as you can see. You can’t bridge this.”

The
Captain dismounted, moving slowly to the edge of the river, sinking up to his
boots into the drifts. There was still much snow in these parts, for while the
mountains were less severe than in eastern
Mepal,
the west lived and
breathed winter. It was the way of things.