The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (69 page)

“It does nothing,
sidi,
but hold its contents. It is the
bearer that acts.”

“And you are the bearer?”

“Yes.”

“And its contents?”

“Souls.”

“Elaborate, please.”

“It, I…” She was struggling for
the words.

“Unification,” growled Sireth,
arms folded across his chest. “It is their fuel.”

Kirin shook his head. “I do not
understand.”

The Seer stepped forward. “The
Arts cannot do the things this woman can do. They cannot start avalanches, melt
ice, change their appearance, summon storms, not with their powders and potions
and gems. That requires a power they do not naturally have.”

“The Gifts have this kind of
power?”

“No, not at all. But this woman
is able to do all these things and more. She is able to move in and out of
minds like a wind, and that is the realm of the Gifts. Higher gifts, to be
sure, but Gifts nonetheless. She has been trained in both, I guarantee it.”

Kirin glanced back at the
Alchemist. “Is this true,
sidala?”

She looked down at the earth.

“And you have been stealing our
souls to fuel your craft?”

She said nothing.

“Answer me now. I am short on
patience.”

“We do not steal souls,
sidi.
We harness them.”

“Semantics,
sidala.”

“It is an Art in itself.”

“The question,
sidala?”

“It is not for me,” she said
finally. “It is for our Order. It is for
Agara’tha.
For the future of the Empire.” She swallowed, as if summoning her convictions
as a shield. “It is all for the Empire.”

“You should kill her now,” hissed
the Major.

“I’m not convinced our Empress
would consider the ‘harnessing of souls’ a worthy pastime for her servants,
sidala.”

“I do not, nor have ever,
answered to the Empress,
sidi.
You
for one surely understand the chain of command.”

He had to admit that he did.

“Captain…” It was Ursa. She was
staring at the Seer.

He glanced over at the man, who
was standing completely still, glassy eyed and staring into the distance. He
knew the look instantly.

“Sidi?”
he asked.

“There are Alchemists in
Sharan’yurthah.”

“Sidi?”

“Five of five, only five left,
many have fed Our Mother, the Great Mountains. Jet barraDunne himself leads
them. They have been following since...” He frowned. “Since the instatement of
Yahn Nevye in
Sha’Hadin.
Yahn Nevye…”
He frowned again, cocked his head like a bird. “Yahn Nevye…belongs to Jet
barraDunne?”

“He is the one who has assumed
control of the monastery,” said Kirin. “I thought you said he was a Seer?”

“He is, but he has been on
sabbatical…” His voice trailed off as he thought.

“Yahn Nevye has been studying at
Agara’tha,”
Sherah added, still looking
at the earth. “He is a skilled student, the first and the best with both the
Gifts and the Arts.”

Kirin raised a brow. “He is a
believer in Unification?”

“Unification is very good for the
Empire.”

“But very bad for people,” Ursa
growled.

“Oh, Petrus,” groaned benAramis,
and now he too sagged against the tree. “What of
Sha’Hadin?
What is to be done now?”

“Major, please take the Seer to
rest by the fire.”

“No,” he protested. “Forgive me.
I’m fine. I’m just sickened by all this—“

“It’s not a request,
sidi.
I need to speak with the Alchemist
alone.”

Both the Major and the Seer
stared at him.

“Captain—“

“That is an order, Major.”

Slowly, warily, the pair turned
their backs to him and began the slow trek to the glowing fire as the night
settled her dark cloak all around them. Tonight, once again, the moon came out
to play.

He knelt down beside her now.

He studied her face, so perfectly
formed. Eyes wide, large and golden, lips full and pouting, the streak of black
from lashes to cheek, coiled like a serpent. The swell of black that sprung
from the peak and tumbled across her face and neck and back. The tiny spots
gracing her forehead, her throat, her shoulders.

He would be cleaving that
magnificent head from those shoulders soon enough.

“Do you remember,
sidala,
that night in the battle tower
of
Pesh’thawar?
When you asked me if
there were orders I had ever been given but were loathe to obey?”

She nodded again, and he vowed to
make her death swift and clean.

“What
were
your orders,
sidala?”

She looked down.

“Tell me, or I
will
kill you now.”

She pulled a tiny parchment from
under the black folds of her cloak, held it out to him. It smelled of orange
and lotus.

The parchment from the Empress,
lost at the Inn at the Roof of the World. He swallowed, taking it. He slipped
it into his sash.

“I am
Kunoichi,”
she said softly.

Kunoichi. Ninjah.
Assassins cloaked in the night sky and smoke. He
had never met one.

“I see. Your orders were to kill
The Seer.”

“No,
sidi.
Not the Seer.”

He frowned, puzzled.

“Then whom?”

Her breathing changed and her
chest heaved with an uncharacteristic emotion. “You
,
sidi!
My orders were to
kill
you.”

And she buried her face in her
hands.

He sat up, puzzled, and puzzled
some more. He looked over to the others, faces reflected gold and red in the
firelight, to Kerris especially, still weakened and sickly and wrapped in a
blanket, the tigress’ hand on his back. He looked to the first stars beginning
to shine in the purple night sky. He looked to the dark canopy of the pistachio
tree and finally, back to the woman sitting beneath.

“Me?” he puzzled once again. “Jet
barraDunne wants to kill…me? But why?”

“Because of the Empress,” she
breathed. “Because you love her and she loves you and she will not marry and
that is dangerous for the stability and perpetuation of the Empire!”

He cocked his head.
How could they know this? How could they
possibly know?

“Chancellor Ho despises you
because of this. He despises your entire family, you and your father before you
and your brother, our fabled ‘Kaidan’ who negotiated peace with the
Chi’Chen.
A peace which has further
undermined the safety of the Kingdom. He hates you all so very much. And Jet
will do anything to please the Chancellor…”

Kirin released his breath slowly.
It made a certain sense.

“But the Empress has announced
that she will indeed marry.”

“That is a new thing. It was
unknown to any of us,
sidi.
As it was
to you until that night.”

That had been almost a killing
blow. He had leaned on her door that night, willing himself to knock, to go in,
to find comfort, escape,
something
in
her arms, but he simply could not. He had wanted but would not. And not for the
first time had he cursed his damned honor. That terrible, terrible night.

He steeled himself.

“So, the avalanche? The ice on
the
Shi’pal?
You are the
firestarter?”

“I am a firestarter,
sidi.
But so is the Seer. That is how he
killed the lion.”

“A ruse. Shall I kill you now?”

“Forgive me,
sidi.
But it is true. He is a firestarter. You should know this.
And my orders were to kill you or to compromise you, so that the Empress would
be free to marry.”

“Compromise me?”

She lowered her eyes.

And suddenly, he understood all
too well. He sat back on his haunches, felt the strength drain from his
muscles. He had almost given her that,
that
night and on many others. Jet barraDunne would have been proud.

He felt himself detaching,
leaving his mind and body and voice and this time, there was no Arak to be
blamed.

“And Kerris, then?” he asked
woodenly. “Why did you bother so with Kerris? What could he possibly mean to
you?”

“Forgive me,
sidi,
but there are many ways to compromise a man. Your brother is
like wild honey. Your conflict with him led you to compromise yourself.”

Her observations were on target,
arrows loosed straight into his heart. He had not needed much help in losing
himself or his honor, and he realized for the first time that his own proud,
arrogant heart had put his brother’s life in jeopardy.

“I know what Solomon is,” she
said softly.

“Yes.”

“I understand the following of
orders.”

“Yes.”

“And I also know you, what your
Bushido will demand of you. I do not wish you to do it,
sidi.
Please.”

He stared at her a long moment.
“Have you shared this with the First Mage?”

She looked down. “No,
sidi.
There are many things I have not
shared with him.”

She was a hawk, a beautiful,
wild, wilful hawk. He wished he could have had the opportunity to tame her.

“If you are Kunoichi, you have
killed before,” he said softly. “And you have had many opportunities to do so
on this journey. Why could you not kill me?”

“You know why,
sidi.
Surely, you must know.”

He lowered his eyes.

She moved like a snake, and
suddenly, she was on her hands and knees before him. “I could not kill you,
sidi,
and try as I might, I could not
compromise you. I have never believed in honor. I have never believed in
Bushido. I have never seen it lived out in a man, but you…”

Her eyes gleamed and he almost
fell over.

“I have never met anyone like
you.”

He sat for a long moment, feeling
like a stone cracking in a fire.

Finally, he sighed, a long, deep
cleansing breath. He reached out, stroked her cheek with the back of his
fingers, fighting the ache swelling within him.

“You are a match for me, Sherah
al Shiva, Sherannah al Shaer, or whatever name you choose for yourself. I have
never met anyone like
you.”

She smiled through her tears.

“Any other time,
sidala.
Any other circumstance. I would
be honored to love you.”

She lowered her eyes once again.

He rose to his feet, hand falling
to the hilt of his sword.

***

They stared at the dancing flames
of the fire, each one of them wondering over the discovery of new memories, how
they had gone missing and how, in turn, they had not really been missed.

The falcon chirruped and they
heard the crunch of boots on sandy soil.

“Sidi,”
said Kirin, appearing like a ghost out of the night, hand
upon the hilt of his sword. He pulled a sliver of parchment from his sash,
dropped it into the fire and the flames leapt, casting a strange light upon his
face. “Did your falcon discover a way across this river?”

“Ah, yes. Yes, she did.” The Seer
blinked as he recalled. “The eastern route brings us to a rather large lake,
impossible to cross.”

Kerris flashed his brother a
glance. Kirin ignored him.

“The western route, however,
brings us to a very wide part where the banks are quite flat. We should be able
to swim the horses across.”

“How far?

“About a half day’s travel.”

“In the morning, then,” said
Kerris. “Time to get some sleep.”

Kirin looked around at the four
faces. “We are going now.”

There was a marked silence.

“Now?” asked Kerris again, for no
one else dared. “Kirin, it’s nightfall. You can’t ask us to travel over unknown
country in the dark. How many more horses do you want to lose?”

“There’s a full moon,” countered
his brother. “We need to leave. Now.”

“They are still following us,
aren’t they,” said Sireth. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“Who?” Fallon this time. “Who’s
following us?”

“Later,” said Kirin, and he
grabbed a saddle from the ground and went off in search of his horse.

***

After almost 9 months on the
trail, one could literally saddle a horse in the dark. It was as ingrained now
as breathing, and before long, all mounts had been tacked, including the three
packhorses. There was, as the Captain had said, a full moon which showered
light almost as if in the day. Even Fallon was able to tack up both her new
horse, and the Alchemist’s black mare without any help at all.

“Bedrolls, all?” Kerris called
out. He had made it his business to gather up the dried fish and fill all skins
with fresh water from the river, as Quiz took no time to ready. “Right. What
about the Alchemist? Shall I go fetch her?”

Kirin snugged his bedroll on the
back of the saddle. “No. That will not be necessary.”

“Well, is she going to be joining
us?”

“No.”

All activity ceased.

Kerris turned to face his
brother. “No?”

“That is what I said.”

“So you’re going to leave her
here?”

Kirin said nothing, tugged the
cinch on alMassay’s saddle.

Fallon’s hand flew to her mouth.
“You didn’t… Oh, Captain, you couldn’t…”

He turned to her, his face like a
stone. “Are you the Captain of this company?”

“Oh…oh no…” and the tigress
leaned into her saddle and wept.

“Save your tears for the trail,
sidala.
We are leaving now.”

Ursa swung up onto the back of
her horse. “I hope you killed her,” she snorted.

“Oh, oh mother…”

Kerris helped Fallon struggle
onto the back of hers.

And the party of five riders and
nine horses left the remains of the campfire and the silhouette of a lone
pistachio tree and headed southwest along the bank of the very steep river.