Azchai ignored him and turned to Enosh once more. “Well, Ferral?”
“I must confess, my lord, that your offer comes as quite a surprise.”
“Of course it is,” Azchai snorted. “I wouldn’t have given it under these circumstances otherwise.”
“Don’t get me wrong—it’s a great honour that you would think I, a humble merchant, would make a match for your daughter, but—why?”
“Why not? Our joint ventures have been more than profitable so far.”
“I hardly think allowing a private trade route exclusive between Cael to Barun a precursor for joining your family.”
“Your company has kept Gaspar well-supplied with stone, cotton, and lumber, and my larders full of gold. But my army is small, Jin-Sayeng is at my doorstep, the k’ans get antsy, and so, as you see, one can always use more gold. You do not want to be a lordling, Ferral?”
“I was told there was another woman, K’an Azchai,” Makin said. “Another Jin. She is lodging in the room next to his. Maybe we should have checked with her first.”
“Use your brains. If he was sleeping with her, why would they waste money on two rooms?” Azchai made a dismissive gesture. “I see you’re caught off-guard. I’ll let you dwell on it.”
“Off-guard? With the reputation this man already has in Gaspar?” Makin laughed. “You have to be careful, Ferral. The Gasparian lords are taking too much interest in you. It spells trouble.”
Enosh cleared his throat. “My busy schedule and many responsibilities would make me a very poor husband. Please accept my apologies. I will have to decline.”
Azchai spat. Makin grinned, and said, “Would it help if I told you what Reema looked like?”
Enosh glanced at him. “Does she have warts?”
Azchai held out his hand. “I will not sit here and allow you to insult my daughter.”
“We weren’t insulting her,” Makin countered. He glanced at Enosh. “She’s a lovely girl. A true Lady Baimash, reborn. Seventeen years old. Eyes like golden rubies. Long lashes. Fishwife’s tongue.” He grinned.
Azchai glared at him. “Enough.” He glanced at Enosh. “Her dowry isn’t much. Not by your standards. An estate north of my border, four hundred head of cattle, thirty steppe ponies, eighty-some goats, fifty servants. Ten beehives. Very productive. Also, one mage of Dageian make. I am told he hails from Enji and that you are very, very interested in his whereabouts.” His eyes gleamed.
The smile fell from Enosh’s face. “You’ve got him?”
“Yes.”
“In your dungeons?”
“Now, Sir Ferral, why in the world would I tell you that?” Azchai flicked his fingers. “I’ll remain true to my word. I’ll give you time. Makin did not lie about my daughter’s beauty, at least. She takes after my wife’s side of the family. As for my charge—well, you need not worry about him. He is well-guarded and won’t be escaping so easily this time.”
Chapter Four
“Mad,” Sang Narani said, gazing out at him from the gate with her hands on her hips. “You’re both mad. I can’t be responsible for this. When you’re dead on the road somewhere, don’t tell them you’ve been here, you understand? It’s bad for business.”
“She insists,” Kefier grumbled. “If you came with us, it will be a load off my mind.”
“I don’t see why that’s any of my concern.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I’ve been asking around the village. Someone told me that your son was last seen a few years ago in upper Shirrokaru. I mean to go there.”
“What makes you think I don’t know that? Or that I care?”
He forced a smile. “It’s your son, old woman. You’ve got to care a little.”
“The audacity. To think that I gave a rat’s ass for that ungrateful son of a—but no, I’ll be insulting myself if I said that, wouldn’t I?”
A scream interrupted their conversation. Kefier felt the pit of his stomach drop, thinking Sume’s time had come at last. He rushed past Narani and into the hut. Sume was standing in a corner. He followed her eyes and saw Dai leaning against the windowsill, his bony fingers clasped around the shutters.
“Water,” Dai gasped.
Sume disappeared into the kitchen. Kefier swallowed, taking a step towards the boy. His movements were not right. They jerked, as if he was made of clockwork. His eyes were bloodshot; they peered through the black hair that covered half his face. “Gorrhen? You’re alive?” he grumbled. His voice was so feeble that Kefier could barely understand him. “But…what am I doing here?”
Narani hobbled into the doorway just as Sume returned with a cup. She wiped the hair from his face. Her touch made him retreat into the corner. “Dai…”
“That’s not my name!” he snapped. And then, seeing the cup she offered, he grabbed it from her like a starved animal. Water ran down his pale cheeks and gathered on his shirt as he drank.
“He’s awake,” Sume murmured, after a moment of silence. She looked at Narani. “That’s a good thing, right?”
Narani touched Kefier’s arm. “Watch her,” she said, before stepping towards Dai. “You, there. You say that Dai isn’t your name. What is it, then?”
The boy looked at her, blinking. “I…” he started. “I’m not sure.” His eyes were swollen.
“These people. You don’t know them, either?”
He glanced at Sume and hesitated. When he finally answered, his voice shook. “I heard her voice, calling. So I came. I thought—I thought it was my mother.”
“Your mother is in Fuyyu,” Sume began.
The boy looked distraught. Narani drew closer to him. “Is that correct?”
“N-no,” the boy whispered. He shook his head. “I think my mother died. They slit her throat. She told me to run, so I did. I hid in the closet. It felt like forever but then I thought I heard my father so I went out, and then I woke up here.”
Kefier hung back against the wall, feeling helpless. Narani gave the boy a fresh cup of water before gesturing to them. They followed her into the little garden outside her hut.
“He’s just confused,” Sume said, breaking the silence. “The fevers—the healer had said his blood was spoiled. It must’ve done something to his head. But this is good, isn’t it? Now he’s awake when he wasn’t, before.”
“Maybe that boy isn’t yours,” Narani said.
“That’s not funny,” Kefier replied, licking his lips. “It’s not like we misplaced him and another took his place.”
She looked at him. “Maybe that’s exactly what happened.”
“Right, because when we weren’t looking another boy came up and—” He realized the gravity of his words and felt a chill run up his spine. “What are you saying, old woman? If that isn’t Dai, then where is he?”
“I don’t know.” Narani rubbed her hands on her skirt. “Are you still planning to continue to Shirrokaru?”
“He’s awake now. I don’t see why we have to.” He turned to Sume and saw the look on her face. “You can’t be serious, woman. Give me a good reason.”
“Don’t woman me! The healer at Aret-ni was convinced that Sagar could help him. You heard him back there, didn’t you? He’s not exactly cured.”
Kefier threw his hands up. “Help me out here, old woman!”
“Woman her, old woman me—treat us with more respect and maybe someone will listen,” she hissed. She turned to Sume. “If the offer to come with you still stands, I will go with you to Shirrokaru.”
Kefier stepped towards her. “Half an hour ago you were telling me it was madness to return to the road in her state.”
“And half an hour ago you were begging me to come with you.”
“The boy’s awake now!”
“Stop yelling. I’m not deaf. And that makes it even better. We don’t have to carry him.” She patted his arm. “Sit. Make yourself some tea. I have to ask the neighbours to feed the dog while I’m away.”
She stepped out of the gate and disappeared down the path.
&n
bsp; “You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to,” Sume said. “He’s my responsibility.”
Kefier turned to her, his heart at his throat. “He’s too much your responsibility…don’t you ever get sick of that? Taking care of the boy and his mother landed you in Fuyyu, working the bones of your fingers off when you were still a child yourself. His mistake landed you in Gaspar. That’s why you’re like this and now that you’ve got other things to worry about all you can think of is him. For once in your life, can’t you think about yourself?”
He saw her face flush. “What makes you think worrying about the boy isn’t for myself?”
“He’s not yours.”
“And that makes a difference?” Her eyes flashed. “I was there when he was born. I have rocked him to sleep so many nights. Do you know he smiled at me first, before he ever did for his own mother? And with Father falling apart so quickly, in those days...”
Kefier looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“But you did. You see me ignoring this thing inside me in favour of a child that isn’t mine, and you think it’s ridiculous. It is. And it isn’t. Dai was—is—my family. As is Hana. My mother was dead by her own hand and my brother had abandoned us. My father was holding onto sanity by a string. They were all I had, and they made me happy. Sometimes you don’t get to pick your life but I had learned to be content—was more than content with mine. It’s madness, seeing him like this. The thought of bringing him back to Hana in this state is more than I can bear.”
“I see your point,” he grumbled. “But Sume…that thing inside you isn’t a thing. It’s...” Kefier paused, struggling for words. But before he could think clearly, the boy called her and she was more interested in him than anything he had to say. “Ab help us all,” he murmured, watching her retreating figure.
In Oren-yaro, the old woman insisted on taking the reins.
Sume had been so tired as of late that she didn’t feel like arguing, even if Narani seemed half-blind and was likely to drive them off the road to their deaths. Kefier was delegated to the back of the wagon with the boy while Sume heaved her bulk into the front seat.
She gazed out at the widening road, past the white flowers of the strawberry trees and the guarded gates, and allowed her eyes to settle on that first tiered dragon-tower. She counted ten storeys and struggled to keep her excitement down. There were dragon-towers in Sutan, too, but none so tall. In Shirrokaru, they said, the dragon-towers were built like pathways to heaven, and that they were connected by bridges and wide platforms so that dragons needn’t ever step on the streets below.
Her belly tightened. She closed her eyes, knowing the pain would pass. It did, but not immediately. The sensation, like someone jamming a sharp needle into her groin, remained for a while.
She saw Narani looking at her. “It’s nothing, Sang,” she said. “It’s gone now.”
“You need to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. You can’t deny it forever.”
She turned away. The old woman had been hounding her the last few days, as if there was anything she could do about it. It wasn’t like she was refusing to acknowledge the existence of the child within her, but thinking about it didn’t help. Now with Dai in the state he was in, it was the last thing she wanted to think about. Another to worry about, in a world where she had only known worry and responsibility…
Too much your responsibility.
The thought of Kefier’s words made her want to scream. What would you have me do? Leave him for the crows? Pursue my own happiness? The last time I did that, I was left with this…
Tears burned her eyes and she wiped them away before Narani could see. She seemed to have difficulty controlling her emotions lately. She remembered how often Hana teared up when she was with child and regretted judging her. Should she write to her, now that Dai was awake? Even if he wasn’t himself, perhaps she would still forgive them both. Maybe there was room for them to be a family again.
But she married Tetsung, and I ran off with Enosh. And Hana… Hana’s tongue could be like a coiled snake, unleashing barbs that stung deeper than words should. Maybe that was why her brother left them. She had never asked, but she knew they’d been arguing the weeks before he left Jin-Sayeng.
In this, she realized, she was very much still a child. Older than Hana when she bore Dai, but…I’m not going to think about that right now. I’m not.
She felt the wagon roll to a stop and glanced up to see a soldier stepping towards them, one hand wrapped around a poleaxe. She had been expecting to see an imperial soldier at the gates and was surprised to see him wearing a domed helmet shaped like a wolf’s head. The wolf was the mark of Oren-yaro, which indicated that he was the local warlord’s soldier. Scale-like etchings patterned his armour, which was held together across the belly with braided cotton rope.
“We’re heading to Shirrokaru,” Narani told him. “I trust there won’t be any problems? Not on a fine day such as this.” She clucked her tongue.
“Oren-yaro is Warlord Yeshin’s territory,” the soldier said. He didn’t look at them while he spoke, as if reciting memorized lines. “He requires a thorough inspection for anyone who wants to use our roads.”
“Since when?”
“The Warlord Yeshin insists that the Dragonthrone’s lax attitude has contributed to the decay of Jin-Sayeng morals. What families do you belong to?”
“My father hails from the Tako region to the east,” Narani said.
“Mine was named Kaggawa,” Sume added. “Alon gar.”
The soldier leaned his poleaxe over one shoulder and pulled out a piece of paper. A few moments later, he said, “Neither names are in the list of pre-approved royals. What classes did you say you were?”
Sume leaned across the seat. “Alon gar, I said. My father was a merchant, but what does that have to do with anything?”
The soldier peered from under his helmet. “Old Jin-Sayeng law dictates that those from the lower castes need to pay a fee should they wish to enter a warlord’s domain.”
“That rule was abolished decades ago!” Sume nearly stood up. Narani pressed a hand on her knee to stop her. “Does Ryabei know of this?”
“The Warlord Yeshin insists that the Dragonthrone’s lax attitude has contributed to the decay in Jin-Sayeng morals,” the man repeated. He glanced down at the paper. “The merchant caste need fifty aekich each.”
“Highway robbery,” Sume murmured.
“Pay it,” Narani whispered back. “We can’t spend the rest of the day arguing with a warlord’s soldier. Do me a favour, lad,” she added, raising her voice. “My father was a mere cobbler. That should cost less than someone from the merchant class.”
“Ten,” the soldier said. As Sume pulled out her purse to begin counting the money, he went around to the back of the wagon to tug the flap open. He made a startled sound. “You’ve got other passengers!”
“I was about to get to that—” Sume started.
“You two! Where I can see you!” He brandished his weapon as Kefier scrambled to get out. The boy followed him, his knees shaking so badly it looked like his legs would fall off. “You’re a foreigner,” the soldier gasped in disbelief.
“From Kago,” Kefier replied. “We’ll pay the fee.”
“Oh, no,” the soldier gasped. “Old Jin-Sayeng law dictates foreigners banned from the dragon lands.” He stepped back and called for the other soldiers.
Sume clambered from the wagon. “Can’t we talk about this?” She could see Kefier bristling. She knew he always drew his sword a little too quickly and touched his arm before he could do something drastic. “We were not aware of this rule. Last I knew, Jin-Sayeng had opened our lands to the Kag.”
“Not your lands,” the soldier corrected her. “Oren-yaro lands. The Ikessars had no right to presume.” He flicked his poleaxe, waving at several other soldiers. “We’re escorting you to Warlord Yeshin’s palace. You may talk to him, then. Do not be afraid,” the soldier adde
d, showing his teeth. “We Oren-yaro are not barbarians.”
The soldier helped Sume back into the seat and gestured to two other soldiers, who accompanied them on foot. They followed the street down to a courtyard. The soldiers left them in the care of several guards. Kefier sidled close to the boy. “I don’t care who you think you are,” he whispered. “But if you’ve got an ounce of self-preservation in you, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
“What are you doing?” Sume asked.
“Warning him. He wanted to argue with the man.”
“Remember what Sang Narani said? About the ag—”
“Woman,” he snapped. “Be quiet!”
“I have a name. Stop calling me woman,” she snapped back.
Narani, sitting a few feet away from them, looked up. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But you’ve got to remember where we are.”
“I was born here, if you recall.”
“You were born in Akki. An island away.”
“Are you saying I’m sheltered?”
“I’m saying I’ve lived here, too. In the Kag quarter in Fuyyu. Remember that? I know what they’re capable of if they suspect the boy is touched with the agan. I’ve seen…” He took a deep breath. “Never mind. But whatever ailment the boy has, don’t let them suspect anything beyond a touch of brain fever.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” Kefier regretted speaking as soon as the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t help it. It sometimes took a lot of effort for him to remember that she was Oji’s sister, the one he had respected, even admired, when she was just a faceless name from Oji’s letters. He tried to recall that blinding moment when he decided he was going to be responsible for her and the boy and couldn’t. It had been a reflex. The events had unfolded and he had followed them.
She blinked back at him, but didn’t respond. He turned away and walked to where Narani sat, slumping down beside her.
“Your wife…” Narani began.
“She’s not really my wife,” he said. That silenced her.
An Elegy of Heroes Page 43
