The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (83 page)

“I killed a dog you know. Two in
fact, with this very sword.”

“Wow.” She studied his face. “I
didn’t think you’d be able to do that.”

“Me neither. But it was easy.”

“Oh.”

He shrugged. “But then again, I
was quite angry. It’s amazing what you can do when you’re angry.”

He looked off now, into the
trees. It was obvious he was battling something and she realized that she knew
so very little about him.

“He tried to kill me.”

“Who? The dog?”

“Kirin.”

That was it. He had kept himself
so busy that he hadn’t stopped to remember. She felt very bad for him.

“Well,” she said after a moment.
“He didn’t actually mean to kill you, ‘cause if he did, you’d probably be
dead.”

“I made him very angry.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I always make him angry. I don’t
know why I do it. He makes me angry too. But I’d never try to kill him.”

“I know.”

“Have you ever tried to kill your
brother?”

“Um…I don’t, um, have…a brother.
Remember?” It wasn’t an answer, but the question was disturbing. He said
nothing. She felt sick.

“You must know he loves you very,
very much.”

He poked at the ground some more.
“Do you remember the commander of that battle fort in
Khanisthan?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you think he went back to his
town or village or family like that?”

“Um…”

“I don’t think so either.”

He said nothing more for a while.

It began with a few drops on the
ground beside them, then on their heads, fat and heavy and loud. Then lighter,
softer but more and very soon, their faces and hair and clothing were damp,
soaked through to the pelt. It was a cold rain, and reminded them that winter
was not far off. And still they sat, side by side near the hatch of the
Humlander, not going.

“I finally understand,” he said
after a very long while. “It all makes sense.”

“What does?”

“The Tao wheel. It’s been wrong
for too long. It must flip. It must be made right. Somehow, I made it wrong
when I was born. I didn’t mean to but somehow I did.”

“Kerris…”

“Luck and destiny must be
restored to their proper order. It is the way of things.”

“I don’t understand…”

“It’s alright, love. I do.”

When he turned to face her, she
could have sworn there were tears in his eyes, but that could have been the
rain. He reached up with one hand, slipped it under her chin and kissed her. It
was a gentle kiss, with little passion, and it made her feel very sad.

“We’d better go.”

He rose to his feet and pulled
her up, called Quiz over and bent to pack up the rest of the things.

***

“What was it like, being dead?”

“Like training a young falcon,”
he grumbled. “Only considerably less painful.”

It was late afternoon, it was
raining, and he was bleeding from many cuts and slices along his scalp, face,
hands and neck. With the rain slicking his hair flat onto his head, and with
the bandage round his eyes looking worse for wear, he looked miserable.

The Major placed a quail leg in
his hand. When he was tired, she realized, he didn’t seem to ‘see’ so well, and
needed her. Apparently, tonight, he was very tired.

“
Happy
Mi-hahn.
Joyous
Mi-hahn…” he grumbled again and took an angry chomp out of the leg. “I’ll give
her happy and joyous… I’m going to wring her bloody neck, that’s what I’m going
to do. Then
I’ll
be the happy and
joyous one…”

A grin threatened to tug into her
cheek, but she refused it. “Death?”

He sighed, but still it sounded
like a grumble. He took another bite, chewed as he thought. “Death. Now, let me
try to remember…”

He adjusted his position, tucked
his back into the bark of the tree he was sitting against. It gave him little
protection against the rain.

“It was somewhat like a dream, in
that I didn’t know what was real, or that I was dead, or that it was anything
other than truth, for in dreams, we do believe we are where we think we are. I
was cold, it was warm. I was dark, it was light. Petrus was there, but it
wasn’t as though I could see him, or even hear him. He simply was.”

“Petrus Mercouri. The dead man.”

“Yes. He said,” and he paused,
chewing, to think a moment. “He said, ‘he was proud of me for not stopping what
had started, and for finally leaving the little kachkah house two days walk
from
Shathkira…’”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t really know. And the
Alchemist, she was there. She said,” and he paused yet again to think. He
tossed the leg bone aside. “She said, ‘an eye for an eye, a life for a life.’”

“And then she kissed you.”

“Mmyes.”

“Was it a good kiss?”

He cocked his head. “Why do you
wish to know?”

“I don’t.”

“I see.”

“No you don’t. You are blind.”

He smiled and suddenly, she was
there, pinning him against the tree with her arms of steel. He could feel her
wet hair on his cheek, her breath on his face, the warmth and dampness of her
pelt.

“Was it a good kiss?” she
growled.

Now it was his heart that was
thudding. He swallowed, as if that would calm it. “It would have been better if
it had been given in love,” he said quietly.

“She does not love you.”

“Most certainly not.” She was so
close now. He could almost see her face through the raindrops. “It was a good
kiss, but I prefer kisses in love.”

“I
do not love, so I do not kiss.”

He breathed in her breath, warm
and rich and tasting of quail. “But if you did…?”

She paused to think a moment.
“But if I did…”

And lightly, she kissed first one
brow, then the other. One cheek, then the other, until finally her lips touched
his, tentatively, fleeting like a first kiss, awkward and questioning and a
little unsure, and he wondered at her experience, but when her hands began to
move and her mouth grew fierce, he found himself wondering at his own.

He reached for her wrists as she
pushed him to the ground.“Major, please…”

She was on top of him now.“You
are afraid.”

“No, yes, no. Perhaps. It has
been a long time...”

She seemed to consider this, and
then kissed him again, but gently. He reached up his bare hands, pressed his
palms into the planes of her face. Ran his fingers over her forehead, brushed
them across her lips, tangled them in the thick mane of her hair.

Yes. He had finally left the
little kachkah house, two days walk from
Shathkira.

He pulled her down to him.

***

It was sunset when they reached
the high river.

The rain was hard and they were
soaked to the pelt and cold. They had been walking, for Quiz had more than his
share to carry, and the ground of the wet forest was difficult under their
feet. Kerris did not stop at the river, rather, seemed intent on heading straight
up to the cliffs.

“Wait,” she cried after him as he
began to make his way up the rocky incline. “We need to fill the skins with
water, remember? And Quiz can’t make it all the way up there. We need to take
the things off him and carry them up ourselves!”

With katanah in his left hand,
kodai’chi in his right, Kerris turned slowly towards her.

“Water?”

“Yes, remember? Solomon said.”

He smiled at her. “Ah yes. Water.
I forgot.”

She frowned. “Okay, um, just
wait. Just wait while I fill them up, okay?”

He did not move to help.

She felt his eyes on her as she
knelt beside the rushing river, very cold now as it brought rainwaters down
from the mountains. The skins swelled to bursting as she filled them, tied them
and laid them on the rocks at the bank. She could still feel him watching, knew
that the sword had changed him somehow, felt her heart racing with the
not-knowing.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she
looked up at him. That look loosed something, something that had started long,
long ago. Something that could not be stopped.

“I could have loved you,” he
called down from the rise. “I would have. But you are too clever. You deserve
so much more.”

“I…I don’t think this is the
time, Kerris. We need to get these, um… get these skins…”

He rolled the hilt in his palm,
flashed his eyes at her. Smiled.

“Quiz will take you to the
border. Just keep riding south. When you get there, let him go. He deserves
more too.”

And suddenly she knew. Soaked and
dripping with rain, she rose to her feet. “Oh Kerris, don’t…”

But he whirled and was up the
rocks in a heartbeat. She dropped the skins on the banks and raced up after
him.

***

By the time he reached the ledge,
the wind had picked up and the rain had turned into a storm. He slipped in
through the crevice and moved silently toward the fire. He could make out two
shapes as his pupils widened in the darkness. The Ancestor Jeffrey Solomon was
stretched out on his belly, head in his arms, asleep. It would be easy now in
that position. One downward blow of the katanah and the man would be
dispatched, never knowing what had happened, never knowing even that he had
died. Not a bad thing, over all.

But it lacked honor, he knew this
much. There was a difference between killing and murder, and Kerris had never
the stomach for either. But now, as he knelt by the bloody swollen hulk that
had once been his brother, he understood that difference, and that difference
was honor. His brother had lived by this code, this Way of the Warrior, the
Bushido. It meant more to him than life, and that was always where they had
differed. For Kerris, life was the prize. For Kirin, it was that life lived
with honor.

He placed both long and short
swords across his brother’s knees. Katanah and Kodai’chi. Blood brothers.

He reached for his brother’s
hands, turned them over in his own. The tips were swollen and red.

“I think I finally understand,
Kirin,” he said softly. “It’s taken me long enough, but I think I finally
understand what this honor means to you. Probably because I have finally seen
what dishonor means to you. I have dishonored you, Kirin. I have dishonored you
ever since I took my first breath and I have been doing it ever since. I don’t
know if you can hear me, or if you even want to try, but I would like to ask
your forgiveness and allow me the honor of restoring yours…”

Hearing the voice, Solomon opened
his eyes.

He placed grey hands on his
brother’s bloody scalp. “The katanah is yours, so it will be quick. I think I
can do it. I pray I can. And the short will be mine. I do remember the old stories,
so it should do just fine. Messy yes, but fine. Kirin, I wish we hadn’t come. I
wish you would have married Tamre Ford-d’Elsbeth’s daughter, and stayed at the
Palace and I could come and go as I needed. But I suppose, this being what it
is, our last journey, I suppose I’m glad to have been able to share it with
you. You are a good Captain. And a very good brother…”

His voice caught in his throat,
and he took a moment before continuing.

“First is luck,” he said. “And
you
are
lucky, Kirin. Even though
everyone always said it was me, you were the lucky one. You were gold of gold,
and you had a pretty good life all things considered. But you flipped the Tao
wheel by not killing me when you should have. Or I’m flipping it now, by
claiming Destiny, which was to live long enough to restore your honor. Either
way, that damned wheel gets flipped tonight, and we will finally be who we were
meant to be, even if it is only for a very few moments…”

He leaned forward and kissed his
brother’s head.

Breathed deep, reached for the
long sword. Rose to his feet. Felt the weight in his hand, the leather of the
hilt, the balance of the blade. Fought the tears that sprang to his eyes,
fought them back and felt his heart grow cold and hard, like the steel of the
sword itself. Released one long last deep breath before taking the two-handed
stance beside the kneeling figure.

Silhouetted in the crevice of a
cliff, a young tigress turns away and sobs.

Pressed into the stone of a
cavern, an Ancestor turns away and covers his head with his hands.

And with a silent nod to the Tao
wheel that has directed his life, a grey lion raises a blade high in the air.

***

A wise man once said:

“Is there a noble truth in suffering? Birth is suffering, ageing is
suffering, and sorrow and lamentation, pain, grief and despair are suffering.”

You may know this quote.. You
should by now, from your studies. Sacred Emperor Pali Sidarthah Gatannah Bhuddashtha,
Second Dynasty, back in the time when there were Emperors and
Pol’Lhasa
was still in
Shibeth
. The Seers know this. The
Alchemists know this. I even wonder sometimes if the army and the Empire’s
Counselors know this. But most people, while they may know this, do not live as
if they do.

Another wise man once said:

“There is no such thing as honor, Captain. There is only desire, and
the sorrow that it brings.”

Perhaps if that man had been
there, in that cavern on that particular day, to witness what was surely the
greatest sacrifice in the history of the Upper Kingdom, he might have changed
his mind. For on that particular day, in that particular cavern, there was
indeed suffering and desire and sorrow, but there was also honor.

Kirin Wynegarde-Grey had never
felt so proud.

“Kerris…”

His brother rose to his feet.

His voice was barely audible. He
was certain his jaw was broken.

“Kerris.”