Dead Rivers - Freedom's Gate Part 17

I helped where I could, but found myself mostly shooed away to rest in the shade along with Jolay. She didn't seem nearly as frustrated by her injury as I felt by mine; in fact, she almost seemed to be making the most of it, sending her friends running to get her water when she was thirsty so she didn't have to budge from the shade. I felt restless and bored, and sick to death of embroidery. I cut a fresh thread and grudgingly poked the needle through the black felt, thinking back to the endless hours I'd spent under my mother's eye as a child. I'd hated embroidery then, too.

In early afternoon, there was a shout from someone at the edge of camp; she could see a cloud of dust in the distance. The news flew through the camp like a swarm of gnats, and even Jolay got to her feet to gather at the edge of camp to see what was going on. "They tracked us," Ruan muttered furiously, then glanced over at me as if it were somehow my fault.

Janiya bit her lip and shook her head; I saw her hand go to something tucked under her shirt. She'd been keeping an eye on the bandits, and was confident this wasn't them-but what if the bandits had split up and the aeriko had chosen to interpret the other group as the "bandits" he'd been asked to watch for? I itched to take Janiya aside and ask to use the spell-chain myself.

Then Janiya pulled her empty hand back and said, "Right. We have to a.s.sume it's them. Jolay and Lauria, take your weapons and hide yourselves away from camp-I don't want you fighting unless it's your only chance of survival. Tamar, you can go with them to help protect them if they're found. Everyone else, get your weapons and horses; we're riding out to meet them."

Tamar bit her lip, then fetched her bow-the one she'd practiced with seemed to be her bow now-and her thumb-ring and arrows. Jolay had a bow and a long knife, and I took my sword and grabbed a waterskin for good measure. It was daytime, and there was no guarantee we'd be hiding anywhere near water.

Jolay took the lead. Tamar and I followed her along the river and then away from it, heading over a low rise. After a few minutes of walking she found a spot shaded by a little bit of overhanging rock; long gra.s.s grew around it, and once we settled down on the ground we were invisible to anyone who didn't stumble across us.

"How will the sisters find us?" I asked.

"Well, eventually I'm sure they'll stumble across our starved and withered bodies..." Jolay said. "Oh, don't look so stricken, Tamar! I was joking. Janiya will blow the horn when it's safe to return, three long blasts."

We settled in. Jolay was out of breath and cradling her injured arm. I pa.s.sed her the waterskin and she gave me a wry smile and a nod of approval. "Very good, blossom," she intoned. "You remembered to bring water without being told. Beads all around!" I couldn't help snickering at that.

I strained to hear the sounds of battle-shouts, the clash of metal, anything. I heard the wind moving through the gra.s.s, and a moment later, the piercing whistle of a bird nearby. Below that, I could hear the hum of insects. If there was a battle going on, it was too far away to hear. Jolay took a drink of water, then leaned back against the rock and closed her eyes. Tamar sat with her bow in her hand and an arrow out, even twitchier than I was.

"Do you just hate this?" I asked Jolay after a few minutes.

"Hate this weather?" She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at me. "No, I think it's rather fine."

"Not the weather." I rolled my eyes. "Being wounded. Not being able to fight. Not knowing what's going on."

She rolled her eyes back at me. "Of course I do. Why would you feel the need to ask?" She shrugged with her good shoulder. "But hating it won't heal my arm any faster." She closed her eyes again. "Relax,"

she said. "It will all be over soon."

I strained again to listen, but could hear only the wind, the birds, and Jolay's even, regular breathing.

Tamar tapped the ground with the point of her arrow; after a few minutes, Jolay opened her eyes and saw her and said, "Don't do that. You'll dull it." Tamar bit her lip and stopped.

I wished I'd at least brought along my vest and a needle, or something to do. Anything. Jolay still looked relaxed enough to nap. I couldn't hear anything. Tamar set the arrow down and switched to ripping up the long dry gra.s.s from the ground, then shredding it. I wanted to pace, but that would pretty well destroy the whole point of hiding. Also, my ribs hurt more when I was walking.

Finally we heard three long blasts on Janiya's horn.

Tamar put her arrow back in the quiver and picked up my waterskin, and Jolay led us back to camp.

The first thing we saw as we approached were the camels-lots of them, and with short, spa.r.s.e hair instead of the luxurious silky coats our own camels had. Then we saw a dozen newcomers standing by the camels- men, I realized after a minute. "Merchants," Jolay exclaimed in relief and pleasure. "That's who was raising the dust. Not the bandits after all." Her eyes glinted. "And men. Oh my, this should be interesting."

"Don't you have a summer friend?" Tamar asked.

"Yes, Maydan and I keep each other good company. But Ruan... Erdene... well! It's like getting a sack of sweet oranges out of season." She lowered her eyes in false demureness, then glanced up to see if she'd made Tamar smile. She had.

Janiya motioned us over. Two of the newcomers were clearly the owners of the caravan; they were well dressed and conversing with Janiya. "This is Amin, and this is Gerhard," Janiya said. "They're silk merchants."

Amin and Gerhard turned to us and bowed. Though they were dressed identically, in loose robes that covered them from their heads to their feet, they couldn't have looked more different. Amin was very dark-skinned, much darker than any Greek or Danibeki I'd ever seen; Gerhard had the palest skin I'd ever seen, so ivory he almost looked ill, and yellow hair. His eyes were pale blue, like the morning sky.

Amin's eyes were a rich dark brown and very large, and his hair was tightly curled like sheep's wool. I realized I was staring, and averted my eyes as I muttered a greeting.

"You and your men are welcome to join us for dinner," Janiya said to them, glancing at me with a hint of exasperation. I wondered if she worried that I was going to grab one of these men as a bed partner for the night, a desire-crazed girl with no "summer friend" to keep her company. I couldn't think of any way to rea.s.sure her that wouldn't have sounded even more foolish, so I started to edge away instead. "When you make your camp," she continued, "please set your tents a little removed from ours."

"As you wish, gracious lady," Gerhard said in accented Danibeki, and bowed again. "We would be honored to join you at your meal."

"We may have some goods to trade with you," Janiya added. "More than just karenite."

Gerhard raised an eyebrow at this; Amin gave her a brilliant smile. "We would be delighted to discuss it after we've seen to our camels. May we draw water from your stream?"

"Of course." Janiya nodded her permission and the two men led their camels down to the river.

The tangible fear was gone, replaced by a festive mood. The sisters hadn't even put their weapons away, but had gathered by the door of the yurt to discuss the newcomers in low voices. "Did you see Gerhard's eyes?" Erdene was asking.

"I liked Amin's eyes better," Ruan said, for once laughing with everyone else.

"You can have Amin, I'll take Gerhard," Erdene said.

"Oh, but wouldn't Arai be jealous?"

"At this point, I don't think he'd complain, so long as Gerhard got me pregnant," Erdene said, and sighed.

"Do you think Janiya would be furious?"

"Probably," Ruan said.

"Of course she would," Saken said. "The question is, are Gerhard's beautiful eyes worth it?"

" Almost," Erdene said with a dreamy sigh.

Jolay opened her mouth, then shut it and slipped her arm around Maydan's waist. Maydan glanced back at her with an amused smile and said, "I'm so pleased for you that you have the opportunity for some company." Ruan shot her a sour look, and Maydan beamed back at her.

When the men returned from watering their camels and setting up small tents for themselves and their men, Janiya brought out the bolt of silk we'd taken from the bandits. It was dark red, and caught the afternoon sun like a cut gem. I heard a faint sigh from Saken, near my side, and I thought she probably wanted to rub the fabric just to feel its sheen. Amin and Gerhard were good traders. Though this had to be an unexpected find, their faces showed only the same polite interest they had shown before. Amin took the bolt and unrolled it partway, to examine the fabric more closely. "This is really quite lovely. How did you come upon it?"

"We were raided a week or so ago. The bandits found the encounter less than profitable." Janiya let herself smirk.

Gerhard laughed out loud and bowed yet again. "I salute you, lady, and your warriors. We encountered bandits some weeks back, but fortunately our men were able to drive them off."

"If the bandits you met came off the worse for your encounter, you've done us a good turn," Amin said.

"So we'll give you a very good price for your silk..." At that point, of course, the bargaining began in earnest. I listened with some interest; I thought it a fair enough deal by the end. After the deal was concluded, Gerhard magnanimously threw in a sack of oranges for the sisterhood to share.

There was meat with dinner; Janiya decided to have a goat slaughtered, and stewed in the pot with the beans. The meat was greasy but at least it offered some variety; I chewed each piece for a long time.

There was bread, too, and even honey in a heavy clay jar. "This is the finest meal I've tasted since leaving Axum," Amin said. "Your hospitality to us strangers is most gracious, and we humbly thank you. All of you." I noticed that he drank as little of the inevitable k.u.miss as he possibly could while still being polite.

"Let us offer you something," Gerhard said after taking his own tiny, polite swallow of the curd-laden k.u.miss. He retreated to his own camp for a minute, then returned with a clay jug. I saw him glance at Amin, who grinned and nodded a.s.sent. "Fine Greek wine."

"Lovely!" Saken exclaimed, and held out her cup as Gerhard poured.

"Aren't you men heading west?" Ruan asked with some amus.e.m.e.nt. "Who are you going to sell the Greek wine to?"

"No one," Gerhard said in a conspiratorial whisper. "We drink it ourselves. And share it with our hosts.

Who else would like a cup?"

There was an instant clamor; k.u.miss might be what everyone was used to, but exotic Greek intoxicants were certainly not to be refused. I gladly let Gerhard fill my cup, and brought it to my lips.

"Let me get you some wine," Tamar said. The wine had a strange taste, as if it had started to sour. I pushed the cup away, wanting to be sober for my meeting with Sophos, but Tamar pushed it back to my lips.

I jerked back, my hand shaking; the smell of the wine had summoned the harem so vividly for a moment I almost thought I was back there. I felt sick to my stomach; I forced myself to take a sip anyway, and shuddered. Tamar had not taken any wine at all, I noticed. I played with my cup, looking at the other women; Ruan took only a small amount, but everyone else happily let Gerhard fill their cups. From the looks on their faces, not everyone liked the taste once they tried it.

I tried again to take a sip and could barely choke it down. Saken seemed to be enjoying her wine, so when she'd finished, I poured my wine into her cup. Ruan was watching me, a faint smirk on her face, but for once she said nothing.

"So we heard strange rumors when we pa.s.sed through Meleinaia," Gerhard said. "The Penelopeians are planning an offensive in the fall, to wipe out the Alashi once and for all."

"They're always planning to wipe us out once and for all," Janiya said. "Did you hear any new rumors?"

"Well, they're bringing troops north," Gerhard said.

"It won't be good for trade, if they win," Amin said. "The Alashi keep the bandits in check along our route across this desert, mostly. The Penelopeians won't have any reason to care. Especially as they have their own profitable trade, using djinn caravans."

"How can you possibly compete with that?" I asked. "They can transport far more with djinn than you can with camels."

"Lucky for us, the Penelopeians are greedy," Gerhard said with an amiable laugh. "They could undercut us but they don't bother. We aren't enough of a threat to their empire to be worth stomping out."

Saken shook her head. "Neither are we-you'd think. I don't know why they care that we're up here."

"We're their one failure," Ruan said. "They said they'd punish the Danibeki by flooding our lands and enslaving our people, but some of us escaped. And keep escaping."

"Well, it doesn't matter how many troops they bring up," Maydan said st.u.r.dily. "We can always retreat into the desert and let the sun kill the Greeks."

There was a round of laughter, and everyone added the tidbits they knew about how stupid the Greeks could be: they couldn't find water if it was right in front of their nose, they couldn't navigate on the featureless plain, they rode oxen and called them horses, and so on. I stared into the fire, thinking about how wrong these claims really were. I'd learned how to find water from Nikon, Kyros's kinsman and my good friend. I'd made it to the Alashi alive, even with an unexpected companion. The Greeks had spell-chains and bound aerika; they could have the aerika find water for them. For that matter, they could have an aerika water-caravan, doing nothing but refilling jugs of water from somewhere to the south and bringing them up to the army. Kyros knew how to navigate by the stars, he didn't need landmarks any more than I did, and while the Alashi horses might be better for long rides through the desert, Zhade-a sudden lonely longing for my own horse rose up in my throat and choked me, for a moment-Zhade was certainly no ox.

I fingered the almost-completed spell-chain on the back of my black vest. Those Greeks you're laughing at could wipe you out, I thought. They are planning something, or Kyros wouldn't have sent me here. And then another chilling thought: They will wipe you out, and I will help them do it. I stroked the embroidered st.i.tches, picturing, against my will, Greek soldiers riding through the camp; the women here fought well, but if they were outnumbered, betrayed ... It was easy to feel a small spark of pleasure imagining something bad happening to Ruan, but I had no malice toward Jolay, Maydan, Saken, Erdene. Not even toward Janiya. And certainly not Tamar.

And why had the Sisterhood of Weavers decided suddenly this year that it was time to wipe out the Alashi? The Arch-Magia has reason to believe that the bandits are planning a larger offensive against us. So the sorceress had said. But I'd seen no evidence of that. For that matter, Kyros's djinn hadn't even asked me about these rumors, only whether I was trusted yet. It's the Greeks who are planning an offensive, with me as the poison on their own arrow-tip, ready to betray from inside.

But why now? And why bother? As Kyros had noted, it was the Greek bandits that caused most of the trouble anymore.

The Greeks must want something that's in Alashi territory. But what? I'd seen little but steppe and sky in the months I'd been here. Wiping out the Alashi is a lot of trouble to go to just for some dried-out gra.s.s and weathered rocks. No, wait. Rocks. I closed my fist over some of the loose pebbles on the ground, and remembered the iron mine I'd pa.s.sed with Sophos. There were mines in the hills on the edge of Greek territory, where people dug deep into the ground to bring out iron, lead, gold, and other things of use or value. No doubt there was more of everything under the ground I was sitting on right now. Perhaps that was what the Greeks wanted.

Still. Even for gold, it seemed like a great deal of trouble to go to.

Despite the fire, I was growing cold, and I could see another wineskin coming out. I excused myself and retreated to the yurt to sleep. I would have to think about this more later.

"You are my most trusted servant, and you have never disappointed me, Lauria."

I was in Kyros's office, munching on a honey cake. It was early winter; there was a fire on the hearth.

One of the logs snapped suddenly, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. The light caught on a faceted bead of the spell-chain wrapped around Kyros's wrist.

"Is my mission complete?" I asked, wondering why I couldn't remember how it ended. Oh yes: attack, blood, victory for the Greeks. It all seemed very distant.

"You did perfectly. Brilliantly." Kyros had an apple on his desk, as red as a spring flower. He cut it into slices, pa.s.sing me a succulent wedge. "You have never let me down-but you truly surpa.s.sed yourself this time."

"I'm glad," I said. And I was, though it was a strange, distant pleasure.

"Name your reward, Lauria."

My reward? "Sophos's head on a stake," I said instantly.

"I had him executed months ago, as soon as I heard. Besides, that's justice, not a reward. I want to offer you more than that."

Then, of course. "Tamar," I said. "She was one of Sophos's slaves, and she escaped when I did. She's become a good friend of mine. I'd like her to be freed, to come live with me. Perhaps we could find a place in town..."

"A house and a..." Kyros almost said slave, I realized. "Tamar," he finished. "Of course, those are easy things to arrange. I'll have the young lady sent to you this afternoon."

The room seemed oddly dark, despite the fire, and I saw another glint from Kyros's spell-chain. "Wait," I said, and grabbed his wrist for a closer look. One bead shifted in color as I looked at it: gray to green to blue. "That's karenite," I said. "The soul-stone of the spell-chain is made from karenite."

Kyros pulled his arm back from me, looking confused. "I understand now," I said, as the dream faded into the darkness of the yurt. "Now I know what it is you're looking for."

I woke, freezing cold. I'd lost my blanket somehow in my sleep, and I was close enough to the door of the yurt that the night wind was blowing across my head. I retrieved my blanket and noticed that the yurt seemed strangely empty. Tamar was where she belonged, but Ruan was missing, and Erdene. I suppressed a snicker, thinking about the merchants and their pretty eyes. They must have slipped off to the merchants' camp. I wondered where summer friends found the time and privacy to enjoy each other's company... Well, people tend to find a way when they're determined.

I tucked my blanket in around me and thought about the dream. Karenite was scattered across the steppe; after that original errand I'd spotted it and picked up pieces several times. But I'd never seen it lying on the ground near Elpisia. If it's the foundation of the Sisterhood's power, then of course they want more of it. Need more of it. I was quite certain, mulling over what I'd pieced together, that I was right about this.

It was strange, knowing something this important when Kyros hadn't told me. As I slipped back down into sleep, I thought about the other part of the dream. I can trust Kyros, I thought. And whatever else comes, I will keep Tamar safe.

CHAPTER NINE.

"Close your eyes," Zhanna said. "Find a comfortable position to sit in. Now watch your breath: in, then out. In, then out."

I pulled my legs up beside me, thinking that I'd be more comfortable in a chair, and wondering where the nearest chair was-probably no closer than one of the Greek garrisons on the very edge of their territory. I sat up as straight as I could, since before I'd closed my eyes I'd seen Tamar carefully arranging herself with a perfectly straight back. I tried to pay attention to my breathing, as Zhanna had suggested: in, out. In, out.

It didn't take me long to get bored.

Also, my b.u.t.t began to tingle, and pretty soon after that, it went to sleep entirely. So did my left leg. I considered changing position but I hadn't heard Tamar shift, so I felt like I probably wasn't supposed to.

If I were really paying attention to my breath, if I were doing this right, I probably wouldn't even be noticing how uncomfortable I was. I shifted discreetly. My ribs ached, though the wound was mostly healed. In, out, I told myself sternly.

I was not cut out to be a shaman.