Tetsung shrugged. “Probably learned it off an Akkian. Am I right?”
The Kag nodded slowly. “I have to get back to work.”
“But you haven’t eaten!” Sume exclaimed. “You must try this food. Especially if you’ve never been in Akki.”
“Crab gives me hives. I have to go now,” he stated flatly. He dropped his head and pulled away from them.
“Where were we, Sume?” Tetsung asked. He grabbed her hand and smiled. Sume turned back to him, but she couldn’t get the Kag out of her head. She found herself cornering the eatery’s owner after Tetsung had paid their tab.
“Your man there,” she said, having left the outhouse and catching the woman wiping plates in the open kitchen.
The woman glanced up. “Has he done anything?”
“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to know if he had a name. We’ve met before and he wouldn’t say.”
“Ke-if, he calls himself,” the woman said. “Not a Kag. Not quite sure where he’s from, exactly, but I’ve spotted Dageian slave tattoos on him so he must be an escapee. You don’t really have rules about those here in Jin-Sayeng, so I figured he wasn’t a bad hire. Does his work all right, keeps out of trouble. If he steps out of line, you’ll tell me, right? I’d rather deal with it than with your guards first. You know how things are.”
Sume promised she would keep quiet and turned back. The appearance of Tetsung on the path surprised her. “You seem pretty interested in the Kag,” he said, his arms crossed.
She started to explain that she found the sound of his speech soothing, the way she did with every Akkian she’d met on the mainland. But she looked at Tetsung’s worried face and realized he wouldn’t understand. How was a mainlander supposed to know that in Akki, each clan had a unique way of speaking—that there were not one, but fifteen words for “now”? The sounds of each were so close together that they were easy enough to understand by everyone, but an Akkian could tell.
And this man, Ke-if, spoke now like she did, rolling the last syllable upward. Only the Seytans, the Angjar, and the Kaggawans—families from the north-east part of the island—spoke like that. Hana used to make fun of some of their words, too, because they were too sing-song and it made Oji sound like a poet.
How could a foreigner from Sakku-knows-where suddenly start speaking like one of her clan?
After that, it seemed as if Sume saw him everywhere. At the docks, while visiting Captain Naj, she saw him helping load down one of the ships and called out to him from deck. Hearing his name from her made him freeze in his tracks, nearly dropping the barrel he was carrying. She waved at him and would have gone down to talk, except Naj, ever the downer, tapped her shoulder and began explaining to her the different ways to salt fish.
She also saw him at the market with Errena or whenever she would join Tetsung for dinner. These times, she didn’t talk to him, but she tried to meet his face and smile. The one time she didn’t, because Tetsung was too busy trying to grab her hand while grinning silly at her, she caught him staring back at her. That frightened her. She began to wonder if there was more to these coincidences than she figured and if his silence had nothing to do with shyness.
One evening, while leaning out of the kitchen window, she caught sight of him in the alley down the seamstresses’ lodge and knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was following her. There was no work that day, so she removed the rice pot from the stove, transferred it to the table, and ran out to the street.
“Hey!” she called to his rapidly retreating back. “Ke-if!” She charged at him and grabbed his arm. “Why have you been following me?”
The expression on his face threatened to break. He turned to her and was silent for a few moments. Thinking, she realized. He’s thinking of what lie to tell me. He finally looked down and thrust the leather map at her. “I don’t know how to read that,” he admitted. The Akkian tilt was strong in his voice. “Could you show me how?”
Sume was powerless against such a request. She smoothened her dress and gave a resigned sigh. “I have to turn the fire off in the kitchen. Wait for me here?”
“Your friend isn’t here,” Ke-if told her on the way to the beach.
“A keen observation,” she said dryly. He looked confused at that, and she smiled and patted his arm. “He’s got an uncle visiting. Only polite that he stay home tonight and entertain the old man, don’t you think? Here, lay that out on the sand.” She helped him spread the map out. “It’s a good thing the sky’s clear. We can count the stars as they come out.”
He looked interested enough when she started explaining the symbols on the map and the sky. It surprised her how much she still remembered; her father’s navigator had simply thought it was amusing, teaching a four-year-old girl how to read a star chart. Back then, her father’s men liked to joke that it was little Sume who would take over the family business.
“I like that you’ve finally replaced those rags,” she said at length, pointing at Ke-if’s attire. He glanced down and shrugged.
“I lost my clothes swimming the other night. I had to get new ones.”
She nodded. “I’m guessing the salt water just burned right through them.”
“Fashion isn’t my strongest point.”
“I can see that.”
He frowned. She smiled. His eyes flickered; in the waning light, they looked blue, like the sea. “Sume,” he murmured. “Tell me the story of Kiba again. I—I wasn’t listening, the last time.”
She smiled and told him the story again. About Kiba the fisherman, who fell in love with the Goddess Sakku. She heard him take a deep breath and for a moment she wondered why he needed to hear it so badly, but a shooting star distracted her from her thoughts. It flitted past the sky, barely a flicker.
“The story, Sume,” he whispered. He sounded like he was crying in the dark.
She didn’t want to continue. She could see that something in the story was upsetting him, but she didn’t know what. Haltingly, she said, “Well. She got her fruit, but it wasn’t juicy, so. So being such a big bitch, she turned him into a bird like she was going to in the first place and stuck him into the sky. And that’s the story of Kiba.”
He closed his eyes. There were stars everywhere now. Over the horizon, into the darkness of the sea, the water-shadows seemed to leap out at her like wild animals.
“It’s getting late.” Sume smoothed her skirt over her knees. “I probably need to go soon. The mistress doesn’t like us staying out too long.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Sume smiled before she realized what he was saying. “You haven’t done anything to me, you silly man. What are you apologizing for?”
He looked at her with those eyes again. Something constricted in her throat. She suddenly understood that she knew what he was going to say, that she didn’t need to hear it from him now. Ke-if. She knew the name, if not the sound of it. I call him Kefier. I figured you need to Kag a name up before these bastards can accept someone.
“You!” a voice called out from the darkness before either of them could say anything else. Ke-if evidently knew the sound of it, because he started running. A figure emerged from the bridge above them and leaped towards him. They rolled across the sand, and the figure lifted a fist and smashed it into Ke-if’s face.
Sume screamed; the man turned to her and scowled. “Don’t be offended. I’m pretty sure he didn’t have the money to pay you anyway.”
She flushed and stepped towards them. “I don’t know what argument you two have, but this isn’t the time or place. The guards will know how to handle this.”
Ke-if started to say something and the man struck him a second time. “You Jins!” the man exclaimed. A white forelock fell across his face. “This is Kag business, not something you should be concerned with. Guards indeed—pah!” He spat on the sand and started wrapping a piece of rope around Ke-if’s hands.
She stood there, frozen, wondering if she had time to call up the guards and if the
man would attack her if she did. Ke-if was lying very still. A wave of pity washed over her. “If it’s money, I can help,” she said slowly. “Don’t hurt him.”
“You hear that, you piece of shit?” the man snorted, pressing his knee over Ke-if’s groin. “You have a woman offering to buy you out. You’re pathetic. Does she know about Lisa?”
“Leave her out of this,” Ke-if hissed.
The man dragged Ke-if upright. “Not that I care either way, but if you set the guards after our tail I’m killing him and dumping the body for convenience.” He tapped the hilt of his sword for emphasis.
“Don’t take him,” she said. “We can talk about this. He—”
“With all due respect, lady,” the man said. “You can do much better than this traitor. Go home and forget you ever met him.” He slammed his elbow into Ke-if’s chest before yanking on the rope and leading him up to the road.
Sume watched their retreating figures and dropped to her knees. Ke-if. Kefier, she thought again, turning the name over in her head like a dog gnawing at a bare bone. Oji had given him that name, Kefier, to make it easier for the others to say. The Kag were particular like that. No…it couldn’t be him. The one who bore that name was a boy in Oji’s letters, not that dark, broken man she had seen. But Oji had not written in so long and the realization of that suddenly became too overwhelming to bear. “Oji,” she murmured, and she covered her face with her hands and wept until she thought her heart would break.
Chapter Seven
The cart rolled to a stop just as Kefier opened his eyes. He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious. Long enough. Too long. His head felt tender, and his body felt like the day after a fevered sleep. A day, maybe two.
He heard voices and started to test his bindings. They were still tight. He was hoping they would’ve loosened over time, but it seemed like escape that way was unlikely. He hadn’t thought very far from that when hands reached into the cart and dragged him out. He tried to swing his body against his captors, but a staff slammed into his already-bruised head and sent him reeling to the ground. As he started coughing, somebody grabbed a handful of his hair to lift his head. “I thought you’d learn by now,” Gaven said. “You just might be the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”
One of the men looked dubious. “You’re bringing him to town?”
Gaven shrugged. “I need a drink and I want to keep an eye on him. You’ve all seen how slippery he can get. Hey look, bastard. Home sweet home. Bet you didn’t think you’d ever see this hellhole again.” He gave Kefier a push, watching as he stumbled onto the dusty streets of Cairntown.
Gaven was right, of course, but it still surprised him when the memories of so many damp evenings flooded him; how many times had they staggered through these same streets, faces streaked with dirt and craving food and drink and the comfort of women? He could still remember Oji saying, You know you love Cairntown when the scent of piss gets you all excited. He felt his heart pounding as soon as they reached a familiar road, the one that led back to Comfrey’s. The thought of seeing Lisa after so long made his knees weak. She probably thought he was dead. He hadn’t given her much room to think otherwise the last time he’d seen her, that time he’d said his goodbyes. He hadn’t been thinking. She’d called him an idiot, too.
“Does Baeddan want him dead?” one of the men asked. Kefier didn’t recognize him or any of Gaven’s other men. That worried him. He had been in the faction long enough to know most people by face, if not by name. Did Baeddan recruit new people just to give to Gaven? He had heard them call him officer on the road.
Gaven snorted. “I wouldn’t know. Don’t care. I’m just glad to be home.” He noticed Kefier listening to him and struck him with his fist. “Fuck,” he added, rubbing his hand. “Death is too good for you.” They had reached the path leading to Blue-dog’s tavern. At the sight of the tavern doors, Gaven gave a lopsided grin. He motioned to one of the men. “Stay here and watch him.” He glanced at Kefier. “What’s the matter, you son of a bitch? Want some ale for your parched throat? I’ll find you some dog piss for afters. Hey, Aru! Next man passes by and asks, tell them what he’s done. I’m sure he wants to know, too.”
Kefier’s face paled at those words. He glanced at Gaven’s man, but Aru refused to meet his eyes. He sank to the ground and sat on his chafed hands. The last time he had been here was that night thirteen or fourteen moons ago—he wasn’t sure. He’d lost track of time in Fuyyu, where the world moved so differently. Please, he thought, feeling his chest tighten. You didn’t hurt Lisa. She had nothing to do with it. She isn’t mine.
He heard sandals behind him. “Excuse me,” a voice called. “I can’t help but notice that you have a badly beaten and tied up man in a very public place. That seems quite wrong to me.”
Aru grinned from the side of his mouth and pointed. “This here’s a traitor to the faction. We’re carrying out just punishment to a criminal. Tying and beating’s just the start of it.”
A young man appeared. He looked Jin, dressed in an open red tunic belted around the waist. His dark hair was tied in a knot above his head. “Don’t you have town guards to take care of that business?”
Aru jabbed a finger into the young man’s chest. “Hey, Jin, did you board the wrong ship to Hafod? Or maybe you couldn’t afford a ship, ended up stranded, tossed overboard? I’ll try to speak slowly in case you were dropped on your head at birth. This is Kago. In Kago, the law falls on the hands of men who can keep it, and in Cairntown, that happens to be men of the faction. Remember that.”
The young man nodded rather too quickly. “I see. So you are part of this faction. What was the name again? Some sort of animal, deer or cow, with hooves?”
Aru’s face coloured. “We’re the Boarshind Faction, you ignorant Jin.”
“Right,” the young man continued, unfazed. He ran his fingers over the thin moustache on his lip and glanced at Kefier. “So what did this man do? Steal some bread, look at the wrong woman?”
“He killed a faction man,” Aru replied. “An officer, Thiar. I didn't know him but I was told he was a fair man. This animal came running back to the faction after a botched job and gutted him like a pig.”
“And so fulfilled your faction’s namesake. I see.”
Aru’s face flickered. “Are you insulting us?”
The young man held his hands out. “No, no. Pardon me. I’m bad at this overly complicated language you call Kagtar. That is all he did, then? Kill a man? Did he have a quarrel with this Thiar?” He glanced at Kefier, who dropped his eyes to the ground.
Thiar.
Kefier couldn’t say he regretted it. The old man deserved what he got. His biggest mistake was staying there long enough for Rok to catch him. Anyone else he could take, but that look on Rok’s face—he still couldn’t forgive himself for letting his friend see him like that. He had tried to tell Rok what Thiar had done to them, but there hadn’t been enough time.
The sound of the Jin clearing his throat jolted Kefier back to his senses. “If you don’t mind, I would like to speak with him. I am a missionary, you understand, of the prophet Kibouri, which I am sure you must have heard of living so close to Jin-Sayeng as you people do. A criminal such as he deserves to hear these teachings.”
Aru looked amused, but he nodded. “Be my guest.”
Kefier watched in confusion as the Jin pulled a barrel close to him so he could sit on it. “Where do I begin...” The Jin smiled. “First, let me introduce myself. I am called Ing Vahn, servant to the teachings of the prophet.” He bowed. “Kibouri lived a long time ago, in the days when dragons roamed Jin-Sayeng’s vast grasslands. He was adviser to the Emperor Rayang, a most noble king who brought much prosperity to the land. Kibouri...”
Both of them stopped in time to see Aru’s head drop to the side and hear him begin to snore. Vahn frowned, his brow furrowed. “You Kags are a rude people.” He looked genuinely displeased.
“Ing Vahn,” Kefier suddenly said. The Jin looked at him.
“I know you.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t recall—”
“You were that little boy in Gorent, a long time ago. You’ve grown up.” Kefier lifted his bound hands to his knees in order to lean closer to him. “You called us coconut-worshipping pagans.”
The Jin turned red. “Why, I never! The teachings of Kibouri, sir, celebrate the open mind and soul...”
“You said we should stop bedding our sisters and embrace the morality your religion had to offer.” Kefier’s face twitched. “I remember that scar on your cheek. Yes, it has to be you. Ing Vahn. My brother Enosh was fascinated with you. He thought it was amazing that such a young boy could also be a scholar.”
A look of understanding came over Vahn’s face. “Gorent, was it? I’m sorry I don’t remember you, but if your brother is who I think it is—tell me, how is Enosh? When we parted, I had promised him we would see each other in the mainland, man to man. A promising leader and a scholar in his own right.”
Kefier looked away. “He’s dead.”
Silence followed his words. Vahn’s eyes were closed and Kefier realized that he was praying. That surprised him. He waited, and when Vahn finally looked up, he murmured, “Thank you.”
“Why thank me? He was my friend. I know you are thinking that ten years is a long time, but it makes no difference to me. A friend once is a friend for life, is he not?” He gave a sad smile. “I did not think it would come to this, though. We promised we would someday meet as equals, when we’ve accomplished the dreams we’ve laid out for ourselves and for our people. I am closer to that dream now than I was and I can’t believe I won’t be able to share that with him.”
“In the Kag, they don’t believe in the afterlife.”
“I am aware of that.”
“What does Sakku offer to the departed?”
Vahn folded his hands, a deep expression coming over his thin face. “According to Kibouri, a man’s fate depends on the mix between his intentions and his actions throughout the course of his life. The deity closest to a man’s soul is responsible for judging him. There is Jano-ong, Rathalia, Akaterru of the Oren-yaro...Enosh, I think, had a soul like a blade of grass. Immiresh, the warrior-poet—”
An Elegy of Heroes Page 9
