by Pemry Janes
“We are not here for stories,” Fervent said, only to fall silent when the seated loretellers stared at her.
Then Steel Cobra nodded. “You are not here to apply for an apprenticeship, sword. Let us stick to simple facts. What is your connection with Rock and his parents?”
“Ruin my performance, why don’t you. Some people have no appreciation for my art. Fine, fine. I was made by One Claw and Ardent nineteen years ago in Vanha Forest. Rock here is their son.”
The loreteller in the puma chair spoke up before anybody else could. “This One Claw, he was of the Puma tribe?”
Running feet pounded on the walkway and Eurik saw Silver Fang drag a huffing Blue Scale along. She gave him a nod while Misthell answered a couple more questions about his father. Though why the interest in him? Had this shaman known him?
“I see they’ve started already,” Silver Fang said.
“Sort of. They’re asking Misthell questions right now to see if my mother is the right Ardent.”
Blue Scale couldn’t stay upright and clutched her left side with her right hand. “Is . . . that . . . in . . . question?”
“I am not sure she is. Probably?”
“Right. Do we . . . want to fight them . . . on this?” Blue Scale straightened out as her breathing grew less laborious. “I don’t recommend it.”
Fervent was whispering something in Testing Fork’s ear as well. The loreteller nodded and stepped forward. “We are not here for this One Claw. It is clear they met after the murder. So instead, I’d like to know what this . . . blade knows of its other creator. Ardent, daughter of Reed Dagger.”
“Didn’t know she was the daughter of Reed Dagger,” Misthell said. “Or where she was from. I can show you what she looks like and that’s it. My creators didn’t impart their own life stories to me, and I woke up unplanned.”
“That can work,” Testing Fork said. “I knew her. And her victim.”
Blue Scale stepped forward. She did something with her voice; it had a whole different quality than when she’d spoken to him. “Please, let’s not jump ahead here.”
“Blue Scale,” Steel Cobra said. “You’re defending the boy?”
“I am.”
“Hmm. Good. Having to suffer an outsider blunder through this process is bad enough when we don’t have more important things to worry about.” She slashed with her hand and Fervent’s teeth clicked shut without having uttered a word. Steel Cobra nodded. “Good. Now, your description.”
A figure appeared before the seated loretellers. A woman perhaps a hand shorter than Eurik. Brownish hair cut short, like Silver Fang, with a draen that had a little iron hammer hanging from it. It wasn’t a statue; there was life to the image. It gave the impression of strength, a fighter, a maker of things. There were scars on her arms and her face, her nose a little crooked.
I never did ask Misthell what they’d looked like. Why hadn’t I?
“I’m satisfied,” Testing Fork said. “The scars, the particulars of her draen. This sword has shown us Ardent, daughter of Reed Dagger. Now tell us where she is!”
“Oh, I thought I’d been clear on that,” Misthell said. “Both she and One Claw died nineteen years ago. It’s what awakened me.”
Fervent balled her fists so tight they nearly turned white. “Then the son will answer for his mother’s crime!”
“That’s what we’re here to determine,” Blue Scale said. “I’ve heard accusations, I’ve heard murder, but what is the evidence? What was the crime?”
“Oh no,” Steel Cobra said. “We are not going to hold an entire trial tonight. We’ll reconvene tomorrow and sort this all out.” She fixed Fervent with her gaze. “If you’ve waited for twenty years, you can wait another night.”
Blue Scale extended a hand in Eurik’s direction. “Rock is a competitor in the Games.”
“In the unarmed combat event.” Sharp Prong smiled. “The next round will be held the day after tomorrow. He has plenty of time.”
“Good. That’s settled, then.”
“We request that he be held,” Testing Fork said. “We wouldn’t want him to . . . leave like his mother did.”
Blue Scale turned to her opposing loreteller. “He has no reason to flee.”
Steel Cobra scratched her cheek and sighed. “Where is he staying right now?”
“The Outsiders Quarter,” Sharp Prong said.
“Right, then we’ll hold him here. No, I don’t want to hear it, Blue Scale. Unless someone else here has a better idea.”
The other seated loretellers shook their heads. “What about the sword?”
“I can take care of Misthell,” Silver Fang said, joining Blue Scale’s side. “Rock is my friend and he’s lent me the blade in the past.”
“When you needed to slay some monster,” Misthell said. “You’re not planning on slaying one tonight, right?”
“I will give any I encounter a chance to surrender. If only to avoid your complaining afterward.”
“All right then. You stay strong, Rock!”
“I’ll be fine.” He had wanted this to be over with. Now he had to wait another night? But it seemed his desires or wants held no weight here.
Silver Fang laid a hand on his arm. “We expected this much,” she said softly in Linesan. “Do not worry too much. Whatever you may have read, we are not savages. You will not be punished instead of your mother.”
“I don’t know that I want my mother to be known as a murderer. I’m . . . the only one who can defend her. But I don’t know her.”
If they had been san, he would very much bear responsibility. He would be the next generation of Ardent and as such, considered much the same. He wouldn’t be executed or anything like that, but their line would end. They would be forbidden from creating a new generation. Just as Chizuho had been.
“I’ll speak with Blue Scale,” Silver Fang said, having switched back to Thelauk. “I will see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
The guard carrying Misthell accompanied Silver Fang and Blue Scale as they left. Many did. Only some of the guards as well as Sharp Prong and Fervent remained. “How did Ardent die?” the latter asked.
“Must I remind you of the law, Fervent?” Sharp Prong said before Eurik could answer. “You can’t interrogate the party you accused without any loretellers present.”
“It does not matter,” Eurik said. “And I don’t quite know the answer. At sea, after barely surviving a pirate attack. I don’t know if they died of injuries, or simply hunger and thirst. All I know is they kept me safe.”
Fervent bared her teeth. “So she did suffer? That’s something. And if she ended up among outsiders, then no proper burial either. Well, that does help.” She looked him up and down. “And you speak so calmly about your parents’ death. If they mean so little to you, then why claim them at all? You already knew Ardent was a murderer.”
“I am here to find out who they were. Where I come from. Until I left the island, all I had were names. It’s not that they don’t mean anything to me, it’s . . . I don’t know what they mean to me. Now,” Eurik said turning to Sharp Prong. “Am I put into a cell?”
“Not quite,” the shaman said. “But yes, the hour grows late. Fervent, you may leave. Don’t return to the Inner Ring until the sun has risen again.”
Fervent bowed and walked off with long, sharp strides while Sharp Prong and the remaining guards led him in the other direction. They followed the walkway until they squarely faced north. The peaks of the Trollabergher were silhouetted against the starry night.
“You’ll be staying in there,” Sharp Prong said, indicating a wooden frame that had ropes on top leading to a long wooden beam.
It took a moment for his tired mind to make sense of what he saw. A cage, about two and a half steps big in every dimension. The beam and the ropes must be used to hoist it up. “It could be worse.” At least he’d be able to draw some comfort from the winds blowing throug
h Chappenuioc. If they’d locked him up down below in an air-tight room he’d be cut off from the world.
“I suppose. The sky is not promising rain tonight. Go in.”
An iron lock clicked shut after he did so, Sharp Prong deposited the key in a pouch on her belt then turned away without another word. None of the guards remained behind either, except a pair who operated a winch that dragged the entire cage up very slowly.
With the cage swaying, Eurik had to grab hold of one of the bars to steady himself. It got worse when the entire wooden beam swung out so that he hung over the Inner Circle. One other cage of the four he could see was in use, the occupant snoring loudly.
That wind ruffled his clothes and Eurik shivered. They could have given me a blanket.
Chapter 19
Visits
With Misthell resting against her shoulder, Leraine bid Blue Scale a goodnight and returned to her bed. That had been her intent, anyway, if not for the one person she didn’t want to see right now suddenly stepping into her path.
She swallowed her first response. “Is there something you need?”
Anseri crossed her arms. “Shouldn’t that be my question? I heard your friend got himself into a lot of trouble.”
“This wasn’t unexpected.”
“Not unexpected?” Anseri took a step closer. “Your friend stands accused of the murder of the mother of the current leader of Caetiwo.” She prodded Leraine with a finger to punctuate her sentence. “Do you have any idea the problems this creates for our tribe?” Another prod. “Do you even care, or are our problems something else that is beneath the notice of the great warrior Silver Fang?”
Leraine pushed her sister away. “His mother was accused. That is it. Not even our oldest laws hold the child equally responsible for crimes committed by the parent before that child was even born!”
“Your . . . friend might have some power. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. But it’s not worth driving a wedge between Urumoy and Caetiwo.”
Leraine let the anger roil in her liver, then exhaled it. “I’m not abandoning my friend.”
Her sister shook her head, lips twisted in disgust. “Mother might indulge you over this, but Mother’s days as leader are coming to an end. You should think carefully how you welcome the next dawn.” With those words Anseri turned and stomped away.
“Thank you, for not speaking during that,” Leraine said to the living sword once Anseri was out of hearing range.
“Eh, I’m not dumb enough to get in between that. And don’t worry, I’m real discreet. Eurik won’t hear about this from me. But how about you? You’re going to be okay?”
“I will be fine,” she lied to Misthell. “And despite her words, it is not decided yet who will lead after my mother. Which may not happen for many years. No, we should worry about Rock’s trial.” And other matters of which she was forbidden to speak.
“All right, if you say so. But if you need some help, or want to blind your sister with a surprise ball of light, I’m your sword.”
Leraine nodded and ducked into her room. The thin walls of wood and canvas did nothing to stop the sounds and smells of celebration that permeated the place. But all Leraine wanted right now was to sleep. Even when it would bring tomorrow.
***
Meditation turned out not to be so easy. The wind flowed freely between the bars and all around him, but Eurik was still trapped. The disparity made it hard to connect. And whenever he moved, it sent the cage swaying.
Walking around was even more impossible. The cage was large, but not that large. And in the dark it was too easy to misstep, he’d found that out the hard way. As if summoned by the memory, the pain in his foot flared up again.
Maybe I should try sleep instead?
Eurik opened his eyes, looked to his left. The other prisoner still snored away. And the sounds of music and singing drifted over from the Outer Ring of Chappenuioc and beyond. They were faint, many of the fires had been put out as the hour grew late. The smells of roasted meat and boiling soup had disappeared entirely.
Movement in the dark drew his attention, a pair of guards making their rounds. They carried no lights and their footfalls on the wooden walkway were soft, but their armor reflected what little light there was. They spoke to one another, though Eurik couldn’t catch what they spoke of.
He and the other prisoner barely rated a glance as the two guards passed. The next patrol would come by soon enough. Eurik had seen enough of them come by to get a feel of the schedule by now. The guards disappeared into the deep dark shadows the buildings on the Inner Ring cast.
“You don’t look like much.”
The voice was unexpected and familiar. A figure, a shaman, stood by the winch of the cage, his shawl hiding his face in shadows. Eurik had met many shamans these past few days. Which one was this?
The shaman laid a hand on the thick rope. “Hanging like ripe fruit, begging to be picked.”
Eurik frowned. I know this person, but . . . He started. “Rending Snarl?”
“You recognize me?” The hand now held a knife. “That is a problem.” He shook his head. “But I was curious. I had to see you for myself. And then there is the opportunity . . .”
He sounded like Rending Snarl, though also very different. There had been simmering anger even at the start of the event and it had built up every time something hadn’t gone right for Rending Snarl. At the end, he truly had been snarling more than speaking.
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“Thinking about it.”
“Why? The contest is over. My death will not give you my spot or my prize.” He’d have to lunge for the door of the cage. He wouldn’t be able to open the cage until he’d laid hands directly onto the lock. But once out, using wind chiri would be no problem and he could get onto the beam. Rending Snarl would not be able to cut the rope quickly enough to prevent it. Probably.
Rending Snarl’s shoulders shook as he laughed softly. “You’re an outsider as well. Maybe I want you dead for the same reason Springstep died. Spite.”
Eurik’s calm shattered. “You killed Springstep?”
His head turned to the Outer Ring. “It doesn’t sound like they’ve found the body yet. Believe me, you’ll know when they do. Its body was displayed for maximum effect.”
Things came together. “You’re the murderer. The one that’s been killing shamans. But . . . what reason would you have to kill Inkpaw? Or . . .” He faltered as he couldn’t recall the other shaman’s name. Had he heard it?
Still, the question remained. Why would Rending Snarl do this? The person he’d interacted with seemed so different from the man now speaking to him.
“You know? But they’ve kept Tense Coil’s death a secret. Ah, of course. The other one, your friend.”
“You’re not Rending Snarl.” The conclusion arrived only after he’d spoken the words. “You sound like him, but don’t speak as he did. And Rending Snarl wouldn’t draw this out, he’d just cut the rope.” Rending Snarl was many things, but he had shown no signs of patience.
“Yes, but who else would want you dead? Ah, I must have been hired by Fervent, then.”
“No. Why do that when the rules are getting her what she wants? And why would Fervent pay you to kill Springstep?” Was Springstep dead, though, or was that another lie? What was Rend—this person—doing? Was he playing some sort of game? “And we’ve been over this already. You can’t kill me just by cutting that rope.”
“But if you escape, it’ll be free to hunt you down and kill you. No waiting around and hoping. Which brings me to a question I have. Why are you here?”
“You seem to know a lot about me already. You should know that, then. I haven’t hidden that I’m looking to find out more about my parents.”
“No, no, I mean why are you in that cage? Why go through this trial?”
Eurik tilted his head to the left. “Because they believe my mother committed a murder?”
<
br /> The impostor made a throw-away gesture. “Bah, why would you care? See, what is Ardent to you? What connects you to it but the fact that it gave birth to you?”
“I . . . I don’t know. But she is my mother. That’s important.”
“No, it’s not. It is a tenuous connection even for humans who were actually raised by their parents. But you weren’t. So why not renounce this stranger? Why burden yourself with their failures? Why limit yourself like this?”
Eurik weighed the words, his own and this stranger’s. “I don’t see it that way. It is not a burden. Ignorance is. I don’t know what my parents are to me, who they were. I don’t know what I missed. I . . . I also think that my sesin worried there was no place on San for me. Maybe he was right. But I don’t know if there is a place for me here. Among these people.”
Belatedly, Eurik considered the wisdom of revealing such thoughts to a self-confessed murderer.
The person that wasn’t Rending Snarl scoffed. “Why would you want to? These ignorant, arrogant fools will destroy themselves. For all the effort they’ve put into building their world, they’re even more eager to tear it down. They hardly need our push. You’re better off throwing away what little humanity may have clung to you. You’ll live longer, for certain.”
“What are you?” Eurik had caught a glimpse under the hood in the moonlight as he had gesticulated. The features, they had been those of Rending Snarl. But he wasn’t him. And the way he spoke of humans, as if they were something other.
If he intended to answer, the impostor didn’t get the chance. Soft footfalls heralded the arrival of the next patrol and when Eurik glanced back, the walkway at the cage-winches was completely empty.
He considered calling out, but would the guards believe him? What would he even say? But Eurik could not pretend this hadn’t happened. Forgoing sleep, he resumed a meditative posture and tried to connect to the wind once more.
Soon enough, yelling and screaming broke the peace.