The Three Lands Omnibus Part 44

I raised my eyes to match his. "I think that you were wrong in your judgment and wrong in your sentence and wrong in other matters as well."

"Thank you," said Peter. He pulled off his sword, laid it gently on the desk beside the pendant, and allowed his hand to rest on it for a moment. His gaze drifted over to the great blade beside him, and then returned to me.

"I would much rather have been Henry today, facing the high doom, than myself, placing him under the high doom," he said softly. "If it had been my decision, I would have let him go free. But the case was not decided by me but by the laws of Emor, which I am sworn to uphold. When I vowed not to show favor to any man, it was precisely this sort of trial that was meant. If I were to show favor to Henry because I liked him, then I would no longer be restricted by the law of this land, and it is the Chara's law that keeps Emor from dissolving into the civil war that nearly destroyed Koretia. I suppose that this is hard for you to understand, since you were not born Emorian."

"You could have found Henry guilty of disobedience but sentenced him to mercy."

"The sentencing is part of the law. I should have explained the law-structure to you long ago, for you can't understand my duties without it. I am bound as fast as a prisoner by what the law says I can do. I am as much a servant to the law as any of my subjects a if I were not, I would not be allowed to rule, and if there were no Chara to proclaim the ancient laws, then the laws would cease to exist. My main duty is to keep Emor alive through my judgments, and I cannot do this if my subjects believe that they can disobey me without penalty."

"Lord Carle said something like that just now," I murmured.

Peter picked the brooch up off of the desk and stared down at the royal emblem. "Contrary to your belief, Lord Carle does occasionally speak words that are true. One thing he has told me is that I do not discipline you enough. I would not want to imitate Lord Carle's methods of discipline, but perhaps you have so often seen me showing mercy that you forget I wear the Sword of Vengeance. Did you know that in ancient times one of the Chara's duties was to execute with his own hands those who were placed under the high doom? The Charas used this sword for that purpose. I thank the wisdom of the dead Charas that I am not required to carry out such a duty a customs do change in Emor, but the laws do not change, and one law is that those who willfully disobey the Chara's direct command must die."

He had been leaning against the table in as relaxed a pose as before, but as his eyes met mine, I saw he knew that we were in a dagger-duel as dangerous as any I had attempted with Lord Carle. Since he realized this, I did not hesitate before asking my next question: "And what of the custom that the Chara may overrule the court summoners?"

"Ah." Peter gave a somber smile as he pushed himself away from the table and went over to stand by the sitting chamber's southern window. He looked out for a moment, and the light breeze that seemed never to cease in Emor blew his hair over his eyes so that I could not see them.

"I knew that it would come to that in the end," he said. "This is harder to explain, because it has nothing to do with my duties as the Chara; rather, it has to do with my frailties as a man. In the court today, my duty was clear, and I had no choice but to take vengeance against Henry. But I had the choice of whether to take vengeance against the subcaptain for the rape he had committed, and I chose to have mercy."

He turned toward the window so that I could not see even his face. "It has been nine years now since I left the palace," he said quietly. "I would have had to leave the palace if there had been threat of a war, but no wars have occurred since I became Chara. I have never been in battle, but my father told me what it is like. He said that the worst moments come, not during the fighting itself, but in the nights before great battles, when the soldiers are forced to wait for hours, knowing that they may die the next day. My father said that many soldiers who have been brave during sword-battle desert their duties during that terrible waiting. I used to wonder whether I myself would some day betray Emor in such a way, for I have never had to face the possibility of death. That is why I find it so hard to condemn others to death, and that is why I am unwilling to punish soldiers who commit evil deeds during war."

He looked back at me, and I supposed that he expected me to make some gentle reply to this confession of fear. But I could see framed behind him the black border mountains, and there came to me an image of fear and destruction beyond that which he had given me.

I said bitterly, "And what mercy have you shown toward the girl who was raped? You said that you have never been a soldier a well, you have never been the victim of a soldier either. You have not been raped or killed or enslaved, or watched as your city was destroyed on the orders of the Chara."

Peter was still holding the emblem brooch. His fingers curled around it, not with vigor, but with tenderness, as though he were holding Emor itself in his palm. He said quietly, "I've never asked about your life in Koretia, Andrew, not even how it is that you came to be enslaved. I've heard you cry out in your sleep and guessed that that must be what you were dreaming about, but I did not believe that I had the right to question you. Since it is clear, though, that you blame the Chara for your enslavement, I think that I had better know what it is that you saw in that city when the Emorians attacked."

I said, in a voice as icy as the Chara's had been some time before, "You mention my dream. I will tell you what it is that I cannot stop dreaming about. I dream of the day that I was enslaved, and of the soldier who enslaved me. That is not why I cry out. I cry out because the same soldier who enslaved me killed my blood brother John and raped and killed my mother. I cry out because the fire consumed my city soon after, so that even if I were to return there today, I would not be able to visit his ash-tomb."

I failed to notice that the destruction in my mind had focussed itself on a single image. But when he spoke, Peter said, "I have heard of blood brothers but have never known what they are."

"They are created by a blood vow to the G.o.ds, a vow between two Koretian friends who may some day be parted. Shortly before you and I first saw each other, John and I exchanged blood and swore to be loyal to each other beyond death and to uphold each other's vows. John swore to help bring peace to our land." I paused, making sure that my eyes were firmly centered on Peter's. "I swore to kill the Chara."

When Peter spoke again, his voice was soft. "The Chara makes a vow to bring peace as well. My father believed that Emor could not have peace unless he attacked the Koretian capital. If I had had to judge the case myself, and if I had known what I know now a that the city would be destroyed, that all but a handful of its people would be enslaved or put to the sword, that your mother and blood brother would be killed and that you would be enslaved and gelded a if I had known all that, I would have given the same judgment as my father did."

There was a silence. Peter's hand had closed more tightly around the emblem, but his gaze did not falter. I turned and left the Chara's quarters without a word.

The Chara did not call me back. If he had, I would not have obeyed him.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

As the sun began to set that evening, I was sitting where I had been all afternoon, in the inner garden of the Chara's palace.

Peter had once said that I must be a reincarnation of the man who named this location, because I shared that man's talent for understatement. The "garden" was a courtyard the size of a village. Peter often visited there since he was not allowed to go into the Emorian countryside. The garden had been fashioned to look like the country, with pastures and meadows and the stone walls that bound every Emorian field, but with no trees, since these are rare in Emor, though its northern dominions were heavily forested. I had come here with Peter on occasion, since I now avoided looking out of windows but was still seeking scenery that would return to me the peace of heart I had left behind in Koretia.

I had never found that peace in the garden, nor anywhere else in the palace, save in the presence of Peter. Now, I knew, I would not even find it there.

I sat in the corner of the garden, hidden by bushes from the lords and officials who had been drawn to this place by the golden summer sun. My eyes were closed, and my fingers ran over the emblem at the tip of my dagger hilt. I had always thought that Peter had given the dagger to me out of love, the sort of love that sometimes grows between a master and his servant. I had raged against Lord Carle because he had not shown such love to Henry, but I had never doubted that Peter felt that way toward me. Now, though, there whispered in my mind Peter's final words to me. Had he really given me my freedom out of love for his loyal subject? Or had he simply been the Chara, fulfilling his duty by selecting a servant whom he could use as an intermediary with his slaves? I had once said that Peter wore a mask; now I feared that he wore that mask even with me.

I opened my eyes and saw that it was growing dark. The dinner hour had arrived, and as I stood up, I saw that the garden was now deserted but for two soldiers guarding a pa.s.sageway running directly to the Chara's quarters.

I did not head that way. I was not sure where I would go, but I could not face Peter while I was still unsure of what sort of man he was. Instead, I stepped onto the cobbled pavement bordering the garden and walked toward a doorway for another pa.s.sage that eventually ended at the corridor leading to the Map Room. I could see the soldiers watching me and exchanging whispers. They must have been among those who had overheard my fight with Lord Carle.

I was thinking this when I reached the doorway and nearly walked into Lord Carle.

He was about to step out of the doorway from the narrow pa.s.sage behind, and my first impression of him was that he looked like a weary veteran from the Border Wars, retreating after some great defeat. He had changed out of his ceremonial dress, and his hand touched his belt lightly, as though he missed the sword there. He stopped the moment that he saw me, and a wariness entered his eyes. He did not speak, but neither did he move, and I did not expect him to move, for we were face to face, and he was waiting for the servant to step out of the way of the council lord.

I felt a sudden flicker of anger inside me, not only for his easy a.s.sumption of my inferiority, but also because he had been the cause of my quarrel with Peter.

We stood a moment more as I waited for him to tell me to move away. And then a it was a sight that every servant in the palace would have paid good money to see a Lord Carle stepped aside in the doorway to allow me to pa.s.s.

It was too late. The flicker of anger had grown into a cool blaze inside me, and I promptly moved to one side to block his way again. His lips tightened, but still he did not speak.

"We did not finish our conversation, Lord Carle," I said with a false tone of calmness.

Lord Carle was again silent. Then he said softly, "I do not think that you should be speaking to me."

"I beg your pardon for addressing a council lord in such a bold manner," I said, "but as you have often told me, I have little respect for my superiors. This being the case, I demand that you explain why you said that I am disloyal to the Chara."

Cold amus.e.m.e.nt entered into Lord Carle's eyes, though his mouth remained somber. "Loyalty is a subject I am now well acquainted with," he said, "since I have spent the past three hours with your master, listening to him explain what form he expects my loyalty to take. I must admit that I am surprised that you would pick these particular circ.u.mstances to defend to me your loyalty to the Chara. Nonetheless, since you have asked the question, I will answer it. I did not say that you were disloyal to the Chara a that is another question, for another day. What is beyond dispute is that you are a traitor to Koretia."

He stepped past me then, and stood on the pavement beside me. I was paralyzed at his words. Further down, I could see that the soldiers, though too far away to hear our conversation, were entertained by our confrontation.

I said, with a voice as cold as my body felt, "That should give you great joy, Lord Carle."

"On the contrary, it lessens my respect for you. When we first met, you told me that you had made a blood vow to kill the Chara a I do not think that you have forgotten that vow, as the Chara told me a short while ago that you had revealed it to him for the first time. It is not clear to me why you felt the desire to mention this matter to him, since you are now the Chara's free-servant, are wearing the Emorian tunic he gave you, are not planning even a short trip to Koretia, and do not, as far as I know, have any plans to kill the Chara. If you were in fact contemplating some secret betrayal, I might regain the respect for you that I lost on the night when I discovered you chatting with the Chara as though he were your blood brother rather than your sworn enemy."

Something rumbled inside me, like a small fire growing large, or a thundercloud in the moments before lightning strikes. I said, again calmly, "You will at least admit that, whatever my past loyalties, I am now loyal to the Chara."

"I would like to think that you are. It would give me joy to think that you plan to dedicate your life to serving the Chara. Or, if this were not the case, it would at least give me some satisfaction to find that you have been secretly plotting to kill him and that you have always remained loyal to your Koretian brothers. But what I fear is that you are dedicated to no man but yourself a that you are a creature incapable of loyalty, enjoying a pleasant childhood in Koretia, and then being tempted away by the luxuries of Emor. That is not the sort of loyalty that the Chara needs." The scorn was unshielded in Lord Carle's voice now.

I said, still keeping my voice low so that the soldiers could not hear me, "I swore an oath to be loyal to the Chara."

"As you swore a vow to kill him. You will not need to answer to any imaginary Koretian G.o.ds for breaking your blood vow, but you will have to answer to the Chara if you betray him."

I felt a crack of lightning go through my body as the cold fire inside began to rage out of control. I made one last effort to master my anger, saying through gritted teeth, "I will never betray the Chara."

"Your very words reveal your disloyalty. Only a few minutes ago, the Chara instructed me not to start any conversations with you, and I a.s.sume that he gave you the same command. You have already betrayed his trust by your disobedience here."

He walked past me toward the garden, but had not yet stepped off the pavement when he whirled around at the sound of hissing metal.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the soldiers frozen with their hands on their sword hilts, afraid to move forward lest they make matters worse. Lord Carle was frozen too, his gaze on the dagger that came slowly toward him. As I placed the dagger tip against his heart, his eyes rose to meet mine. I waited to see what his last words would be; I could read neither anger nor fear nor anything else in his look.

He said, in a voice as serene as our surroundings, "I see that I am to become acquainted with a new Koretian custom, that of killing an unarmed man."

The dagger ripped through a few threads of his tunic, then screamed and sparked as it skidded over the pavement toward the soldiers. In the moment that followed, I saw nothing except the smile beginning to form on Lord Carle's face.

Then the soldiers raced toward me. I did not run; I was looking at Lord Carle, who was lying on the ground where I had struck him down.

The following evening, the palace guards brought me, hand-bound, to see the Chara.

Each of my two escorts had a hand clasping one of my arms in an effort to ensure that their dangerous prisoner did not escape. Their other hands held unsheathed swords, ready at a moment's notice. We marched by the doorway guards, past the doors open to receive us, and into the Map Room, dark but for a single torch whose flame wavered in the nighttime breeze.

The Chara was leaning over the table, examining a piece of paper there; his finger-tips rested lightly on the black wood. He was facing the doors, but did not look up as we entered. The soldiers jerked to a halt, saluting their ruler with their swords, and then the senior guard announced in a loud voice, "Great Chara, we have brought the prisoner."

Still the Chara did not look up. His face and body were hidden in shadow. In an even, ordinary voice, he said, "You may leave the prisoner here and wait outside."

The guards released me, and after a moment their retreating steps were followed by the sound of the doors closing, and then silence. Finally the Chara looked up. He walked slowly around the table until he was standing at its side and his body was once more in the light. His face was cold and formal, and on his chest lay the Pendant of Judgment.

"Andrew son of Gideon, free-servant of the Chara," he intoned, "you have been brought here to answer charges made against you by Carle, Lord of the Great Council. The first charge is that you did willfully and with clear understanding disobey the command of the Great Chara."

He paused a moment, and I found that without thought I had fixed my gaze straight forward, as I did in the days when I was Lord Carle's servant. The torchlight cast dark shadows beneath the Chara's eyes so that his face appeared mask-like.

The Chara continued, "The witness in this charge is the Chara, and I have declined to give evidence. Therefore, the charge is dismissed."

I did not move, but stood as though my whole body were wrapped in chains. The Chara likewise was motionless as he spoke.

"The second charge," he said, "is that you did attempt to murder without provocation the same Lord Carle. The witness in this charge is Emmett, guard of the Chara's palace, and the sentence for such a crime is mercy or branding or the high doom." He stopped, waited three heartbeats, and said, "Lord Carle has withdrawn this charge, and instead charges you with striking a n.o.bleman without provocation. The witness in this charge is the same, and the sentence for such a crime is mercy or branding or enslavement. Do you deny the charge?"

I had had time, shivering in the cool cells of the palace dungeon, to think what my answer would be. Carefully phrasing my words, I said, "I do not deny that I hit Lord Carle."

The Chara was still, a.s.sessing me. After a moment he said, "Do you deny that you struck him without provocation?"

I was silent. The gold and ruby pendant that hung around the Chara's neck shimmered in the light as his chest moved with his breathing. When he spoke again, the Chara's voice remained even and formal. "Did he provoke you?"

Again I was silent. The Chara moved his right hand slowly to his pendant. Then, in one swift and violent motion, he tore the pendant from his neck, turning to slam it down upon the table beside him. For a minute he leaned on the table, his palms fixed flat on the surface, and I could hear his heavy breathing. Finally he turned his head, and he said in his own voice, "Andrew, I cannot require Lord Carle to give witness against himself. Will you not tell me what he said to you?"

My tongue felt like a dead weight in my mouth; my lips could barely move. I said, "No."

Peter looked down at the table again and closed his eyes. He brought the fingertips of one hand up against his forehead and held them there. At last he spat out softly a brief and powerful curse that I had never heard on his lips.

He stood up, walked toward me, and pa.s.sed me. There was silence behind me. Then my back stiffened as I heard him unsheathe the Sword of Vengeance. Cold metal touched me, and my bonds began to loosen as he cut them with the blade.

He said as he did so, "If you had used that dagger against Lord Carle, then I would have executed the high doom against you with my own hands for your being such a fool as to carry a weapon when you were angry. Most men can master their bloodthirst, but you cannot, and you ought to have realized that long ago."

I heard him sheathe the sword as he moved over to my left side. Holding the cut rope in one hand, he said softly, "But since you were wise enough to throw away the dagger, then I will admit that I believe you had every right to strike Lord Carle, if not for what he said to you, then for the shameful way he treated you during the years in which you were under his care."

He looked at me soberly, with gentle eyes. My expression did not change, but I felt something unknot within me, as though Peter had unbound not only my hands but my heart.

"Nevertheless-" Peter moved back to the table, tossed the rope on it, and leaned back against the wood planks, facing me. "I am the Chara. I have pa.s.sed judgment before in cases like this a palace guards striking their officials and other such troubles. In many cases I have dispensed mercy, and therefore I would feel no guilt in doing so to you a if this were my case. But it is not."

I waited. Dimly, through the open window, I could hear the tramp of soldiers patrolling the city streets. Peter folded his hands but for the index fingers and brought these to his lips. He said, "My father was of the belief a and it was a good belief a that it is dangerous for the Chara to have too much power over his immediate servants. He believed that, if a palace free-servant committed a crime, someone other than the Chara ought to p.r.o.nounce judgment on the servant. Therefore, since the council takes care of its own, my father bound over to the council the right to judge and sentence prisoners who are palace free-servants. And the High Lord has appointed as the council's judge one of his lords who has shown a great interest in matters of discipline."

This time it was Peter who waited. I said, my voice flat and dry, "Lord Carle."

Peter spread his hands in front of him in acknowledgment of my words. "You are under Lord Carle's care, and it is he who may judge you and pa.s.s sentence. I can give him my recommendation, but he has already told me in private that he believes you require once more the discipline of slavery. He has also told me who your new master would be."

My chest tightened, and I felt my fists begin to clench. Peter continued swiftly, "And so my clerk and I spent all of last night trying to find some way out of this problem. And I believe that, in the end, we found something a solution that will serve."

I did not unclench my fists, but my breathing eased somewhat. The breeze from the window made the light shudder once more, and the shifting shadows revealed to me what I had not noticed before: the dark circles below the Chara's eyes.

He said, "You are a palace free-servant; that is why you are under Lord Carle's care. But if you were under my care, I would be able to dispense the mercy I believe you deserve." He turned and pulled toward him the paper he had been reading upon my entrance.

My fists were still clenched. I forced myself to wait two heartbeats more before I said, in a carefully neutral voice, "You wish me to be your slave once more?"

Peter had been reaching for a pen. His head jerked up, and there was a moment's silence before he laughed and said, "I must admit that such a solution did not occur to me during my sleepless night. No, my idea is more devious. Prisoners who are palace free-servants are under Lord Carle's care, but prisoners who are palace guests are under my care. The Chara is reserved judgment in crimes involving men and women who visit the palace briefly, or men like that horrid bard Esmond, who stopped here one night during a rainstorm twenty years ago and whom we have not been able to get rid of since then. This doc.u.ment was prepared by my clerk a it is all clerks' language, but if you sign it, you will be resigning from the palace service and may remain here as my guest." He held out the paper and pen expectantly.

Still I could not find a way to unclench my fists. I stayed motionless and asked, in the same flat tone as before, "And what would my duties be as a guest?"

Peter put the paper carefully down on the table, placed the pen beside it, picked up the pen again, and stared at the quill for a second before his eyes met mine. He said simply, "To be my friend, I hope."

During the silence that followed, his gaze dropped again, this time toward the floor. After a moment he raised his head and said in a low voice, "Andrew, my father often told me when I was a boy that it was impossible for the Chara to be friends with a free-servant or a slave. I have come to see that he is right. Neither a free-servant nor a slave-servant is someone with whom one can converse candidly, as one can with a friend. But eleven years ago, I walked out of Lord Carle's room sick with anger and filled with loneliness from the fact that I could tell no one what I was thinking. And then I met you, and you listened to my troubles and told me honestly what you thought I was like and even smiled at my joke. And since that time I have considered you my friend, though I have never told you so."

He looked at me, and as I gazed at him I saw suddenly in him the boy-heir I had met long ago, courteous and quiet, afraid to speak openly, lest his words be used as weapons against him. He waited for me to reply. When I did not, he said in a voice even lower than before, "I do not speak my thoughts to many people a it is not wise for me to do so. Aside from you, I am candid with few men. As for you ... Well, as far as I know, you volunteer your thoughts to no one. This too is probably wise. But if you would care to be candid with me tonight, I would very much like to know how you think of me."

I opened my mouth finally, spoke a word that did not reach past my lips, tried again, and said, "Chara ..." My voice trailed off, as though the formal t.i.tle had dropped somewhere in the stretch of s.p.a.ce between us, too heavy to reach the young man before me.

When he spoke again, it was in little more than a whisper. "If you wish, you may call me Peter."

I whirled around suddenly and walked almost blindly to a small window overlooking the southern part of the city. In the dim moonlight I could see the black mountains bordering Koretia; down below, hidden in the blackness, was the marketplace where I had revealed my blood vow against the Chara.

When I looked to my side, I saw that Peter was standing next to me at the window, his eyes on me, and his fingers tenderly cradling the pen. My gaze fell, and I said in a quiet voice that matched his, "Peter, before I struck Lord Carle, he told me that I was a traitor to my people. He said I had broken my vow of loyalty to Koretia, for I had sworn when I first met him that I would never become Emorian and that my blood was dedicated to the slaying of the Chara. He pointed out that I now wore Emorian clothes, that I was free-servant to the Chara himself, and that I had no plans to return to my homeland. He said that the luxuries of my life here had led me to forswear my duty to my Koretian brothers."

My eyes were still cast down; I could see Peter's hand clenched about the pen, as though he were holding a weapon. I looked up and gazed into the Chara's eyes. "It is true, what Lord Carle said, that I have broken my vow and that I am a traitor to my people. But I did not do this for love of the riches here. I did it for love of the Chara, whom I never considered my friend, because I dared not aspire that high."

Peter's eyes remained solemn, but the corners of his mouth crooked upwards into a slight smile. He took a step forward and held out the pen toward me. "Dare."

Slowly I reached toward the pen. As I took it from him, I felt for a moment his wrist beating against mine, blood next to blood. Then his hand dropped for a moment, and when it rose again, it made a gesture I had not seen him make since his enthronement, a gesture that no Chara had ever made, because the Chara has no equals: he touched his heart and his forehead.

I returned to him the greeting, and then walked over to the table to sign the paper.

Blood Vow 4 LAND OF THE JACKAL.

CHAPTER NINE.

Late-afternoon light landed on the trees above us and then stole its way slyly through the translucent skin of the leaves to dapple our path, gold on brown. I raised my head to look at the cloudless sky peering at us through the leaves, and to feel upon my face the moist stroke of the sun-heated air. It was warmer than any fire I could remember sitting next to during my fifteen years in Emor.

As I lowered my head again, I saw that Lord Carle was watching me with narrowed eyes. We were riding along the Koretian forest path three abreast, with Peter in the middle; the Chara had shown his usual formal courtesy in acting as though he welcomed equally the company of both of us. By the rules of rank, I should have been riding behind with the servants, leaving the n.o.blemen to talk together, but Peter had insisted on having me by his side during most of our fortnight-long journey, and Lord Dean, I could guess, was willing to take advantage of the time in order to glean bits of gossip from the servants that he could later use to his advantage.

Lord Carle paused from his persistent watch of me only in order to answer a question I had not heard Peter ask. The council lord said, "If I needed one word to describe the nature of this land, it would be blood. All of the oaths in this land are sworn on blood, the G.o.ds of this land can only be placated through the blood of animals a and frequently that of humans as well a and the traditional form of Koretian justice, if I may call it that, is the blood feud. It says something about Koretia that its most famous inst.i.tution is ritualized murder."

I opened my mouth and closed it again, but Peter caught the motion out of the corner of his eye, and he pulled back on his horse's reins so that we were moving at a less rapid pace than before. He had driven the six of us to travel at a rate which Lord Carle had complained was faster than that of the Chara's vanguard, but now we were approaching the capital city, and Peter's anxious look was beginning to ease.

"What would you say, Andrew?" he asked. "Is Koretia founded on blood, as Lord Carle says?"

"I think that Lord Carle has noticed Koretia's outward rituals without understanding their inward significance," I said, carefully phrasing my words so that the council lord could not accuse me of insulting him. "Blood is a sign of sacrifice in Koretia. The Koretian people believe that loyalty to the G.o.ds must be shown through offerings of sacrifice. It is true, as Lord Carle says, that the blood feud was used as a form of justice in the old days, but it was not considered a form of private justice, a way to achieve vengeance on one's own behalf. Rather, it was a way to avenge deeds that broke the commands of the G.o.ds."