His face contorted. “Somehow, I had fooled myself into thinking she had good reasons for leaving us, that it was for the best. Sometime ago, I found her here for the first time and learned I was wrong.”
Sume swallowed, unsure of what to say. Arn, seeing this, grinned at her. “You…” he said. “You left your daughter, too. She was still so little, back then. Her room is next to mine—I could hear her crying for you in her sleep.”
“If your goal is to torment me…”
“And what if it is?” He caressed her cheek with his blade. “Talk and perhaps I’ll make this easy for you.” He pressed the blade against her flesh until she felt blood drip along her jaw.
“There’s nothing I can tell you that would be of use,” Sume said. “We’ve been looking for the beast as long as you have. We know nothing you don’t, already.” Enosh had been convinced that Naijwa’s beast was somewhere in the mountains east of Kalthekar, because “Where else can a creature that size hide?” The mountain ranges in that region were enormous enough for Gasparian land-dragons and was likely where the fire-breathing dragon that the creature had consumed hailed from. Sapphire had acknowledged his logic. It was difficult to argue with those two when they agreed—anything to the contrary would be like trying to punch through a brick wall.
Arn seemed to regard her words for a few moments before he pressed his knife into her skin again, grabbing her hair and pulling her close to him. “Do you take me for a fool?” he asked. “You go off on your own, without them, and I’m supposed to believe it’s for nothing? You didn’t find a lead in their absence? Look at her, Sume. Look!” He pushed her as close to the body as he could.
Sume shut her eyes, but the scent of blood was in every breath she took, reminding her of what was in front of her. She tried to form thoughts, her heart hammering against her chest. This is the sort of madness Rosha has to live with. If I don’t find a way to get her out of this world now, what will she turn into?
“Tetsung,” she said, at last. “I needed to talk to him about an associate of his family who might know a route through the northern mountains, past Darusu. It was a hunch that neither Enosh nor Sapphire thought was worth pursuing until they’ve exhausted all other options.”
Arn allowed her to come up for fresh air. She turned to him. The mad grin was still on his face.
“Telling the truth is refreshing, isn’t it?” Arn laughed. “Was Tetsung able to tell you before he keeled over?”
“No,” Sume said. “The information is with his family.” She tried to lift her chin. “If you’ll allow me to travel to the Sougen by myself so I can make arrangements for Tetsung’s funeral, I can get this information. If you kill me now, neither of us will be able to, unless you plan to pass yourself off as a Jinsein, learn Jinan, and gain all the connections necessary to speak with the merchant caste.”
A look of distaste crawled over Arn’s face. “You’re overstepping your bounds.”
“I’m not,” she said. “But what’s the worse I can do to you? You can always catch up if I tried to escape.”
Arn nodded before he turned to step over his mother’s corpse. Sume watched him, trying to maintain the illusion that she was harmless by keeping perfectly still. Not that it wasn’t far from the truth: if there was one thing she had learned all these years, it was that she did not have the physical prowess or necessary skill in the agan that allowed people like Enosh or Sapphire to survive the tangled web of politics and power struggles of their world. She was not crafty enough to devise an escape plan, and even if she did she did not have, by virtue of birth or position, a group of people waiting to pluck her out of harm’s way. If anything, the last few days had proven that in all her actions, she was alone.
How had she survived all these years? After she was accused of killing K’an Mhagaza on her wedding night, his son Rajiat allowed her to leave in exchange for a mere, amusing moment: watching Enosh stick a dagger in his eye. Even Yn Garr had allowed her to walk out of his abode without blinking. And now this Arn, a self-proclaimed madman, was allowing her to walk behind him without a care in the world. Harmless, she realized with a start. They think me harmless. I am allowed to venture in and out of the presence of these powerful people because all they see is a poor girl with a willing ear.
Was that not the same power her own father wielded? The Seven Shadows were named thus because their members were of the emerging merchant caste, able to weave through Jin-Sayeng society with no one giving them a second thought. These days, people only saw the influence and power that helped the Ikessars keep the Dragonthrone. Ichi rok Sagar’s name generated as much intrigue as a royal’s, now. The things they did that got them so far no longer rested on people’s minds.
Sume gathered her courage and took a deep breath. “How did you end up with Yn Garr, anyway?” she asked. “You must’ve joined while Enosh was in Gaspar.”
“He took me and my father in after my village burned down,” Arn said.
“I heard you were Laidari,” she said.
His face darkened. “What else did you hear?”
“Nothing else. Enosh was livid that you were raised without his knowledge.”
“He worked for the company, an apprentice in trade. He was not obligated to know everything. Truth be told, if he had abandoned his tirade a long time ago…” Arn grimaced. “He disappointed our master in more ways than one and when he left, there was no one else that he trusted to take the helm.”
“He didn’t train you in whatever it was Enosh did?”
“Please.” Arn made a dismissive gesture. “I have no interest in such menial things. I had a tutor when I was young. Hafed-trained. The man had good technique, if not the ear.”
Sume tried to think about this. “What do you mean ear? Yn Garr had you trained in music?”
Arn looked a little irritated. “What else would I be referring to? Yes, I was schooled in the musical arts for many years: the viol, the piano, even singing, though I detested that...not that the master cared what I thought.”
“I thought…” She faltered, unsure of what to say next. She had assumed...they had all assumed that Arn took over Enosh’s duties. Enosh’s skill in the agan had proven valuable in influencing investors and permit officials, giving an edge to their operations. Both Sapphire and Sume thought that Arn possessed Enosh’s abilities, at least...an idea that Enosh scoffed at.
Assisting in Yn Garr's business and taking control of Naijwa’s beast were the reasons they thought Yn Garr was interested in children gifted in the agan. To learn that Yn Garr had spent years training Arn in the musical arts was confusing. “My daughter,” she murmured. “What is Rosha learning there?”
“Whatever she wants, I guess,” Arn snorted. “You’ve nothing to worry about. The master spoils her rotten.”
They arrived at their camp. Sume glanced at the griffon, which remained by the fire, and then at the small hut that still held Tetsung’s body. “Was all of this necessary?” she asked. “First Tetsung, and then your mother. You seem like someone who could be reasonable if you wanted to be.”
He didn’t answer. She watched him walk around the fire to stroke the griffon’s head, his black hair splayed across his face, a thoughtful look in his eyes. The creature leaned against his fingers and made a sound that sounded like a cat’s purr.
“Yn Garr took Enosh in before you, and then Rosha after,” she pressed on. “Why all this interest in children?”
Something about that question rang out into the night, like a foghorn calling out to a lost ship. Even Arn seemed to notice. He looked at her as if wondering how he would answer her question, as if he himself had considered it, before deciding to shake his head instead. “You’re talkative tonight.”
“I’ve just seen two people die in one day. I expect anyone would be uneasy.”
He gestured across the fire. “Sit. The men will be back by daybreak. I’ll ask someone to make arrangements for your trip to the Sougen.”
She sat, keeping a clos
e eye on the griffon. It ignored her. They did not talk again. Sometime later, she noticed that Arn had fallen asleep. Against the shadows of the crackling flames, he looked very young. He couldn’t be any more than a year or two older than Dai. Yet he had struck a woman he claimed was his own mother without a second thought, this boy that Yn Garr was not even raising to be a killer.
A raving madman. Yn Garr...why all this interest in children?
She closed her eyes. She needed to find Naijwa’s beast and destroy it so that Rosha could be free, before Yn Garr could do to her whatever it was he did to turn Arn into this. Finding that her exhaustion was turning into fear, she allowed herself to think about Kefier. Despite the pain that his memory brought, she took comfort knowing that wherever he was, whatever it was she had done, he would protect her daughter no matter what.
Chapter Four
“So uh...are you sure you don’t want us to kill him, boss?”
Caiso, his furrowed brow even more creased than usual, clicked his tongue. He ran one hand along his trimmed, ginger-coloured beard, tugging it to a point. “That would be most unwise, Officer Eswenna. All that blood, and I’m wearing my favourite shoes…” He glanced down with an expression of mock dismay.
The full-faced woman shook her head, her brown ringlets sweeping over her broad shoulders. “He’s a loose end. I don’t like loose ends. And the boy—he was the one who called the guard. I think he should be punished.”
“Maybe we should stuff them in a closet,” Caiso said. “Naked.” He broke into a mischievous grin, grey eyes dancing.
Eswenna made a disgusted sound. “You would like that. Boss?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kefier murmured. He approached the guard and cut his bonds with a knife. To his credit, the guard stood still. “This was all a misunderstanding,” he said. “My men can show you the required permits to search these holdings, issued by the Lahrin estate itself.” He patted the guard’s back.
“Your men overstepped their bounds,” the guard said, his nostrils flaring with every word. “I must write that in my report.”
“We’ll pay the fees,” Caiso said.
“And the boy? Making false claims and wasting the city’s time can’t be tolerated.”
Kefier glanced at Abel. “I’ll take him home myself. I am made to understand his family might not take this news lightly.”
“That they won’t,” the guard agreed. “Your sister will hear from me, too, Abel,” he added, shooting the boy a dirty look. He retrieved the sword that Eswenna had kicked to the far corner of the main hall and retreated with as much dignity as he could muster.
Kefier approached Abel. The colour had disappeared from his face since Kefier had waved the permit at the guard and had not returned since. Kefier pulled him to his feet. “Come.” He waved at Caiso. “I’ll see you both back in the inn.”
Abel walked with him as far as the road before speaking. “You serious about taking me all the way back? I’m thinking I know the way myself, yeah?”
Kefier ignored him.
Abel held out his hands and stopped. “I’m not doing this, you ken? I’m not a child and I’m not a criminal.”
This time, Kefier turned his head. “I’ll see you safe home. I don’t want you dead on the road while I’m on the ship back to the mainland.”
“Who’d kill me?” Abel snorted.
“You made a fool of that guard, for one thing.”
“What, him? He’s a nobody. His Da used to shoe our horses.”
“All the more reason to be careful.”
It was a long walk to the farm. When they got there, a little after midday, Kefier insisted on walking Abel up to the front door.
“I’m thinking I’m not going to get killed in my own yard, toske,” Abel said. When Kefier didn’t respond, he groaned and turned the handle. It was locked. Abel swore under his breath and knocked several times, each one louder than the last.
Eventually, the door opened. “Shamke came by,” a shrill voice said. “He was saying you got someone in trouble? Someone important?”
“Just a toske, sister,” Abel grumbled. He rubbed the back of his ear. “He’s uh, still here.”
A middle-aged, yellow-haired woman stepped outside. She looked like a dumpling that had come to life. “Get in,” she said, not taking her eyes off Kefier. “Be setting the table, while you’re at it. Bread and beer from the best barrel. What in the mother’s name are you still standing right there for?” She smacked Abel’s arm. He retreated indoors, grumbling.
She turned to Kefier. “He’s not a bad lad,” she said. “Bit of a handful since our parents died.” She wiped her hand on her apron before holding it out. “Name’s Saira. Round here, nearly every girl’s a Saira or a Minna, just so you know. I’m hoping my brother didn’t get you into too much trouble. I’m thinking since you’re still standing there in one piece, it couldn’t have been too bad.”
“Kefier,” he said. He shook her hand. She wiped it on her apron again and gestured at him.
He stepped into a spacious farmhouse. There was a table in one corner. “Had a larger family once,” Saira said, noticing Kefier gazing at the chairs arranged around the hearth. “My parents took ill and most of my brothers left to find their fortunes. Couldn’t stand to be here anymore. Both sisters got married, left me with Abel, you ken.”
He found a seat by the big table. Saira went into the kitchen and returned with a big tankard of beer. Kefier thanked her and took a gulp. It was pleasantly cold. “I didn’t come here because of Abel,” he said, after a moment.
Saira’s eyebrows went up. “Oh?”
Kefier reached into his pouch and pulled out a necklace with a green stone pendant at the end. At the sight of it, Saira uttered a small gasp. “Mother o’ mine,” she murmured. “Oh, Mother.” She held her hands. Kefier lowered the necklace into her palms. “Then it’s true, then?” she asked. “He’s gone?”
Kefier nodded.
“Oh, my heart. My dear brother.” She collapsed onto the table, sobbing.
Abel appeared. “What’s happening?” he barked. “What did he do now?”
“It’s Camden,” she said. “He brought Camden’s necklace. The one he gave Maira’s boy. They’re both gone?” she repeated, disbelieving.
“I’m sorry,” Kefier said.
She rubbed her eyes. “Would you be knowing what happened?”
He had practiced what he would say for weeks. “Camden was a good, kind-hearted man,” he said. “The mainland could be dangerous.” A part of him winced at how vague and impartial the words sounded now that he had spoken them. As far as he could tell, the Boarshind had disposed of Camden’s body in one of their mass graves before his time as Commander. Last year, he had made the decision to exhume some of those graves in order to identify victims and return them to their families. Camden’s body had been laid out on a blanket amidst others. It was the stone that had caught Kefier’s eye. The physician’s note that the body once belonged to a tall, broad-shouldered, fair-haired man confirmed his suspicions.
Kefier didn’t know how to react to the discovery. He had long thought Camden had returned to Baidh to live out the rest of his days with his sheep and the family who loved him. That he was buried with the Boarshind’s other victims made Kefier suspect that perhaps he had something to do with it. It couldn’t have been a random incident—not a simple tavern brawl or a thief-turned-murderer.
He swallowed more beer and noticed that Saira was not looking at him anymore. She was calling for someone upstairs. He took a full moment to realize the name she was uttering. When he did, he got up, banging his knee on the table as he did so.
Saira disappeared around the corner. Moments later, Lillah emerged from the hall. Almost a decade later, and she was still as beautiful as he remembered, golden locks framing a lively face that didn’t look like it had aged a day. She came up to him, making steps that grew smaller as she drew closer. “So you found his body?”
“Yes. A Boarshind
grave. I’ve asked that he be sent back here.”
“I had suspected as much when he disappeared.” She took a seat across from across him. “Kefier, isn’t it?”
“You’ve got a good memory.”
“Ah, save your flatteries for Lillah Artek. I’ve long abandoned the glamour of that life. It is Lillah the shepherd now, Lillah of Saldor, Lillah the best brew mistress this side of Baidh. That there you’re drinking is from my batch.” She shook her head. “We had only started, you see. Camden and I. A tentative love, like we weren’t sure we wanted it at all. But the comfort—ah, there was so much comfort in it. I don’t think I’ll ever know the like of it again. The Boarshind? An obscure name, once, yet now there is not an alley in Cael where you cannot hear that name uttered from the shadows.”
“You don’t speak like Lillah the shepherd at all.”
She snorted. “One forgets. I fled Cael not long after I gave birth. Cael could be cruel to bastards, even one that belonged to me. Especially one that belonged to me.” She waved at a boy who had appeared by the doorway. “Come, Rani. Where is Uncle Abel? And Aunt Saira? We are remembering your father, dear. His body will be laid to rest beside your grandparents’ soon.”
The boy approached them. He looked at Kefier with bright blue eyes that were clearly Camden’s. Even after all these years, Kefier remembered the effect of the gaze—soft, yet piercing. He took the pendant, which Saira had left on the table, and placed it in the boy’s hands. “Your father will want you to have this,” he said.
Lillah watched her boy. A wistful expression came over her. “It is funny how it all works out sometimes. He is...I think, everything Camden would have wanted in a son.” She smiled to herself before turning back to Kefier. “You are involved with the Boarshind, you say?”
“It’s not important.”
“I think it is. I may live in Baidh now, but I’ve kept an eye on what’s been happening in the mainland the past few years. Talks of this Boarshind gaining foothold in the Kag is troubling. Why is the King tolerating this? Is Hafod so weak that it would allow a private army to amass at its borders? Does the Boarshind bend its knee to the Hafed Throne, now?”
An Elegy of Heroes Page 82
