The sails flapped against the wind above, white as parchment.
It was their sixth week at sea. Seventy-four days, actually, since Sume was forced to watch Dai as they sailed from the wharf, his face waxen from the realization of what she'd done. Tetsung had been with him, his arms tight around the boy's body to stop him from dashing into the sea and swimming to her.
She hadn't seen Hana's reaction. Her brother's wife remained ignorant up until the day they left. If she had known, perhaps, she would have made the offer herself. It is better this way, she thought, biting her lip. At least they were together, as a mother and son should be. Tetsung had promised to care for them until the day she returned.
“Don't think like that, sweetness,” Aden said, coming up beside her with a grin on his face. “I know you are thinking of your family. Don't. It's harder to bear each day if you think of them.”
“Is that what you told my brother?” she asked.
He held out his hands. “What do you want me to say? You don't see ponies or kittens around, do you? Your brother chose a hard life and bore the brunt of it. Won't you listen to me when I say I truly am sorry that you and his son got dragged into it?”
“You're not gonna bed her like that, Aden!” Ranias barked. “You're doing it all wrong!”
Aden coloured. He was the kind of man who coloured easily, and he made a big show of it, too. “These callous men,” he said behind him. “Such language in front of a girl, Ranias. Honestly, didn't your mother teach you any better?”
“My mother fed swine in Ni'in,” Ranias grinned, showing the gap in his teeth. “She tried her best. You're not letting him sway you or anything with his words, hey?” he asked, turning to her. “The shitstorms I've heard from this man.”
“Oh, I just let him flatter me,” Sume said easily, pretending to fan herself. “I know a sea-cow would look good to anyone after weeks at sea. Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, there's a stew down below that needs tending.” She ducked her head out of their way as they began to argue about one thing or another and noted, with pleasure, that they waved good-bye. That was good; she was learning how to deal with them.
At least three or four of them thought that they were closer to bedding her than the others. It was only that stalemate, if nothing else, that kept her safe so far. So as long as she kept out of their way at night—she had her own bunk, and kept it locked for good measure—and smiled and pretended to favour one man to stir concern in another, then they seemed content to leave her alone. They liked her cooking, in any case.
Burg was sitting at the table when she returned to the stew. She tipped her head in the casual greeting she'd learned from the men and started stirring. “How's the boss?” she asked. She'd learned quickly that Burg was the only man on board who ever really spoke to Ylir on a constant basis. To the others he remained an enigma, one who would stand on deck and smile at you one day and throw you overboard for spilling drink in front of him the next.
“He's fine,” Burg said, staring absently into a bowl of yesterday's soup. “Tired,” he added. “Always is.”
“If you're not overly attached to that, this one's almost ready,” she said. “It's better, too.”
“What's better than salt beef stew?” he asked.
“Salt beef stew with carrots?” She smiled and replaced his bowl, making sure to add two hot loaves on the table beside him as well. “Taste that. I tried something different.”
He took a sip and smiled. “Don't tell me. You added someone into this stew.”
“Lans, but don't tell anyone,” she said, returning his grin. The small, portly cabin boy wasn't around to listen to the insult, anyway. “Tell me what's wrong. You seem depressed about something.”
“Isn't a man allowed to be depressed about anything?” He pointed through the window. “I just started thinking about my fiancée. I only got to see her once before we left.”
“Oh,” she started. “I didn't know men like you got married.”
He snorted. “Don't compare me to those louts. They'll only take a woman if she's blindfolded, gagged, and ass up in a barn.” He smiled again, though the look in his eyes remained distant. “She didn't want me to go. Didn't think my work was important enough. Her father owns a farm, you know. Could really use all the help he could get. I told her after this, once we get married, I'll consider. She didn't think that was good enough. She wanted a child. By Agartes, you women! What is it with you and children?”
“They entertain us when men go off to do worldly things,” she said. “So you argued and then you left?”
“By Agartes' balls. For all I know she considered the engagement over and done with.” He sipped again. “What did you do to this stew? Are we telling the captain we need to add to his crew when we get to Sutan? Never mind. Don't let me catch you telling Sir Ylir this, you hear? The last thing I want is our morose benefactor pulling the rug under my feet because he thinks I've been unmanned by a woman.”
“It happens,” she said. “All the time.”
Burg shook his head. “Not to me. Not in Ylir's eyes. He pays really well, you know?” He broke into the bread and tasted it. He was silent for a moment, and then he turned to her with an apologetic look on his face. “The boss asked for you.”
She had to pause for a moment to let that sink in. “Why?”
Burg looked back into the stew. “I don't know. Just get up there before he has my cock on a plate. Fix your hair or something.”
“All right, but I don't know why you look so worried.” She wiped her hands on a towel and then, entirely out of impulse, tweaked Burg's cheek. “He told me explicitly that I was to clean and cook for the crew. Nothing more.”
“Right, girl,” Burg said, pretending to swat her away. “We had a cook. He sent him home after you came on board. He lived all the way in Kago, do you know?” The sombre look returned to his face. “Really. It might not be so bad. If you have his protection, you'll be safe from the rest.”
“You men all think alike. I'm sure he just wants to ask me a question about our supplies or something.” She pulled the pot out of the stove and placed it on the table in the corner. “Well, tell the next person who comes in to leave some for everyone. I'll talk to you later, Burg.”
But her forced cheer died down as soon as she found herself standing outside his door. She was used to the men's ribbing—she had heard it all too often in Fuyyu, where the men took no pains in protecting her ears from anything. She remembered Tetsung bristling at every comment out on the street or in the taverns, but then he was an old-fashioned Jin, as her brother had been. She imagined what Hana would say if she was standing beside her right now. Something about her honour, certainly, that growing up in Akki should have taught her to expect better from men, and how can she expect to get a husband now, after all of this?
“Someone's out there,” a deep voice called from inside the room. “If you're planning to assassinate me, you should've done it minutes ago.”
Sume took a deep breath and opened the door. Ylir was sitting behind his desk, exactly as she'd seen him the last time she had been in this room. He barely glanced at her. “You called for me,” she said, noting that he looked as if he hadn't slept in days. His hair was dishevelled and the shirt he was wearing was open down to the chest. She felt her cheeks colour.
“Hmm,” he replied. He pointed at the bed. She made herself look; there was a pile of clothes, neatly folded. They were reasonably fashionable and in the Kag style, complete with the knee-length boots and a cloak. “We'll reach Sutan by dawn tomorrow and as soon as we dock I would like you to get these cleaned for me. Take them now so I don't have to look at or smell them in the meantime.”
Sume blinked. “I'm sorry?”
“Burg is insufferably ignorant about these things,” he continued. “In Fuyyu, he paid a washerwoman who proceeded to ruin two of my best shirts and trousers. And I can't very well trust the rest of the men in this ship not to pawn them off for gambling money or dump them down
the sewers at the nearest opportunity. Is this satisfactory?” He peered up at her, smiling. “I wouldn't want to distract you from your other duties.”
“Would I be allowed to take a walk through town while I'm at it?” She gave her own smile: one of honest relief. Hana would have told her she was pushing her luck.
“I don't know,” Ylir said. “The men might note your absence and kill themselves in utter frustration.”
“You forget we'll be in town by then. I'm sure they'll find satisfaction somewhere else. If not, you can rent a hog from one of the farms. They wouldn't notice the difference.” She tried not to look too excited. “I've never seen Sutan. Or anywhere that wasn't Akki or Fuyyu in my life.”
“Is that so important?” he asked. “It's just one bloody Jin town after another.”
“Oh, sir. Sutan is a city. Next to Shirrokaru...” She shook her head. “You're a Kag. You wouldn't understand. Shirrokaru, Sutan, Bara, Oren-yaro, and Kai, they are the last bastions of Jin-Sayeng heritage. Places that still show what Jin-Sayeng used to be. Our traditions have been fading since the Dragonlords...”
“Agartes shit on me!” Ylir exclaimed. “If you're going to talk the ears out of me with that Jin nonsense you might as well do what you want. It's not like I can stop you.” He turned back to his parchments.
“Thank you, Sir Ylir, sir.” Sume tipped her head, picked up his laundry, and started for the door. She paused and turned to him, wondering if perhaps she'd overstepped her bounds and had missed something, but the man was acting as if she wasn't even there in the first place. She noted that his fingers were ink-stained to the knuckles before closing the door behind her and making her way back to her own room.
Ylir was as good as his word. The next afternoon, after a rather uneventful arrival that involved a few hours of inspection and paperwork with the Sutan officials, she was allowed to walk out of the ship without escort.
Some of the men, of course, were surprised. “All she has to do is head back home!” one of them wailed. It was Tibal, the stern-faced, golden-haired Kag who had been with Ranias that day she tried to bargain back her nephew. He had never been friendly with her, though she had seen him skulking about in the back of the mess hall, staring at her like a cat would a mouse.
Sir Ylir gave him a look and he wilted. “She offered her services freely,” he said. “She can walk out any time she wants to. Isn't that right, Sume?” He gazed out at her from the deck, his eyes twinkling. She couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or humorous.
She held out the pile of laundry in her arms. “I won't. On my honour as a Jinsein,” she replied. Whatever he might think of that.
Sutan dwarfed her expectations. For the time she was walking through the streets staring at the tall pagodas and the clean canals she felt thoroughly and utterly out of place. Her clothes alone left no doubt that she was just an ignorant country girl, come to gape at the majesty of the east. She noted the displeased look a woman in a brightly coloured robe gave her and pretended, for a moment, not to be so surprised that there were orange fish under the bridge.
Orange!
A kind grandmother who was feeding the fish and did not look so threatened by her threadbare appearance showed her the way to a reliable washer-woman. The shop itself was watched by a bored-looking lad, who barked for his mother when Sume appeared with her bundle. The mother did not look impressed at first, but her colour quickly changed when she saw the quality of the clothing Sume brought her. “This has a button that's come loose,” she grumbled, laying them all out on the table in her shop. “You want that fixed as well?”
“Just make sure you follow the stitching over here,” Sume replied. “It's not the same as the ones on the sleeve.”
The washer-woman noted where she pointed and nodded. “I can have them ready for you on the morrow.”
She tried not to gape. “Really? So soon?”
“I take it you've never been to Sutan before.” The washer-woman took her out to the back of a small warehouse that would have made Mistress Iamme's eyes pop out. There were several vats of boiling water and a kiln, specially designed for heating rocks to help dry clothes. Jars of cleaning chemicals were stacked in a cupboard. “Your master is a Kag?” the woman asked, after a brief moment of stunned silence from Sume's part.
“Hopefully his particular tastes will be pleased,” she replied.
“That's not a problem. We've served nobles before, you know. The old king—King Rysaran's father—had a retinue that required our services for a time. Ah, those were the days.” She gave a smile.
“What was it like?”
“Oh, it was wonderful. I didn't get to see them in person, of course, but the nobles' clothes, I have never seen silk so soft or smooth in my life. They've even found a way to weave silver and gold into it, without affecting the texture.” The washer-woman gave a longing smile. “They were far too long, of course, so the edges were a little frayed. The servant looked shocked when we suggested we cut them. Sacrilegious, he said. Perhaps some of those garments survived the sacking. Well, the nobles are like rats, now, hiding under their tunnels. Moneyed foreigners like your master rule Jin-Sayeng now.” She sighed.
Sume would hear that sigh many more times throughout the day. The way she looked, her accent, and her inevitable confession that indeed, her master was a Kag merchant, brought in their share of stories. Broken families, ruined fortunes, children growing up waving good-bye instead of the traditional farewell of placing their elder's hands on their heads... She had wanted to visit the city hoping to catch a glimpse of what once was and found it difficult to even enjoy a cup of tea without somebody pounding her over the head with nostalgia.
Her father had mixed feelings about it, she remembered. Sure, the Kags brought change, but he had been happy at the chance to finally make some money after the war with Xiaro, which had left Jin-Sayeng starving. Crops were dying from the heavy rains and Xiaro was attacking every Jin-Sayeng ship that came within sight of their waters. There was no one else to trade with but Gaspar, whose lords took advantage when they could and asked for too much coin in exchange for their paltry grain. So the Kags' desire for their silk, their fruits, and their perfumes was a change of pace and a sign of full bellies to come.
But others saw Jin-Sayeng's acceptance of the dirty, ill-bred Kags into their borders after years of animosity as the final nail to the coffin. It felt like a good-bye to Jin-Sayeng pride, to years of regarding themselves as defenders of this land, Dragonlords who held purity and honour above all. Dragonlords? Pah. A toothless old man with snakes tattooed around his arms pointed at Sume and told her he had never seen a Dragon in his lifetime. Oh, he knew they existed, but he had never seen them, he didn’t have to believe, he didn’t have to care. Furthermore, was it not Jin-Sayeng who should've driven the Kags back to their lands when they came? Who should've never allowed Dageis to grow into power, nor let Gaspar for a moment think that they were the heart of this continent?
She stopped telling them about her Kag master after that; she was nothing more than a simple country girl now, having come from Akki on a ship to find work in the city. People became nicer. Gave her suggestions on where to go, told her she should find a place to stay in soon because even though the streets were patrolled at night it was better to be safe than sorry. They liked her accent, they said, and that she should probably get new clothes. Sutan employers were picky like that.
She ended the afternoon at a food stall with a plate of warm rice and creamy fern stew with buttered snails. She thought about what Tibal had said—that she could just walk out now and find a ride home. That was providing, of course, that she had the money to do that. She didn’t. She might find work here now, but to save up that kind of coin would take months—no shorter than if she just finished her work with Ylir.
She dug a rubbery piece of meat out of the shell and popped it into her mouth. The wholesome home-style meal was delicious after the weeks at sea. She suddenly remembered Kefier and the first time s
he had met him back in Fuyyu. Somehow, she couldn’t get his face out of her mind. She could still vividly recall his silences, and the way his eyebrows knotted together, as if there was so much he wanted to tell her but couldn’t.
I’m sorry.
That curious pain crawled up her heart again and refused to budge. She paid the man, her food unfinished, and walked back down the street to the docks. There was nothing else to see. She really only wanted to go home—to hold Dai in her arms, to listen to the wind outside their window and think about nothing beyond tomorrow’s breakfast.
She made a wrong turn and didn’t realize it fast enough. It was nearly dusk when she saw that the houses were getting closer together and that the sea was nowhere in sight. She stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath. A quick glance at her surroundings showed that some of the rooftops were within easy reach. Back when they were kids, she and Dai would get up on a roof if they ever got lost.
She picked a house that looked empty and very carefully pulled herself along the wall, gathering her skirt underneath her as she went. Up on the roof, she noted that the docks were not far after all. She was starting to climb back down when she noticed Ylir standing in the middle of a dark alley in the next street.
Sume knew it was Ylir, because only Ylir dressed like that. Despite the humid weather, he still insisted on wearing those thick, dark garments and boots that clicked when he walked. His hair was neatly braided and tied high over his head.
Curiosity got the better of her and she decided to inch closer, breathing as quietly as she could. He was holding a piece of chalk in his fingers and drawing something across the cobblestone. She couldn’t see what it was, because the marks disappeared as soon as he walked over them. After a few minutes, he paused outside a door and pulled out a lit candle. He stood there with his eyes closed and murmured something.
A cold wind blew out the flame. He glanced up and for a moment, Sume thought he had seen her. But he turned away to open the door and walk into the building.
An Elegy of Heroes Page 23
