Unquiet Land

by Sharon Shinn

  • • •

  Chandran was in their tent when Leah returned. He had unrolled their sleeping mats, found a candle somewhere, and scrounged up a couple plates of food, so she entered a scene of domestic tranquility when she crawled in through the narrow flap. He didn’t ask where she had been, merely kissed her cheek and handed her a plate.

  “How did your conversation with Darien go?” she asked.

  “Good. We plotted strategy for tomorrow.”

  “Such as?”

  “What he might say to the prince. When he would reveal that he has me. How we might manage the exchange so the Karkans do not break their word.”

  She forced herself to swallow the food, which she could barely taste. I need to stay strong. “What will they do to you?” she asked.

  Chandran merely looked at her. She nerved herself and said, “I know you believe they will kill you. Will they do it here, or wait until they get you back to the Karkades?”

  “I believe they will wait. The prince’s remaining siblings would no doubt enjoy a chance to express to me their unwavering hatred.”

  “Will they—” She couldn’t say the word torture. “Will they hurt you?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “A little,” he acknowledged. “But still absolutely convinced this is the right decision. I am wholly at peace.” He made an uncertain motion with one hand. “Except for the knowledge that the manner of my departure will cause you some pain.”

  She nodded, because there didn’t seem to be any way to explain how much pain. “There are drugs you could take,” she said. “Pills. They’d kill you quickly if that seemed better than—what you were enduring.”

  “There are,” he said. “Unfortunately, I do not have any of those with me.”

  “Jaker sometimes deals in pharmaceuticals,” she said. “We could ask him in the morning.”

  “We could,” Chandran agreed. “Although—” He shrugged.

  “Although what?”

  “The prince might search me for evidence of such a thing. If he wants me to suffer, he will not want me to slip away from him so easily.”

  She had to sip from the water jug, twice, because her mouth was so dry she couldn’t speak. “Some drugs,” she said at last, “take a long time to do their work. You could swallow them before you even left the camp, and it would be a day or two before they took effect.” She gulped more water. “Corvier works slowly. I know Jaker has some of that.”

  He managed a smile. “You lived in Malinqua too long,” he said. “You are thinking of some of their more infamous murders.”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “If I learned nothing more from my time in Palminera, it’s how useful a good poison could be.”

  He had nothing to say to that. Leah choked down a few more bites and then asked, “So, tomorrow afternoon? We will catch up with them by then?”

  Chandran nodded. “That is what Darien’s scouts have told him. And then we will need time to discuss terms and make the exchange.”

  “So we might have tomorrow night together as well.”

  “Possibly,” he said. He smiled again and lifted a hand to push a strand of hair behind her ear. “Or by tomorrow night, you may have Mally in here with you instead.”

  “I want you both,” she whispered.

  “You will have had us both,” he said. “Just not at the same time.”

  She fought back a sob and he reached over and drew her into his arms. Such warmth and comfort in his embrace—how was it possible that after today, he might never hold her again? If she could force herself to truly believe that, she would be howling like a mad thing instead of quietly sniffling into his chest.

  “So, Seka Mardis,” he said after a while, speaking over her head.

  She rubbed her sleeve across her runny nose and said, “What about her?”

  “I might have known her somewhat better than I allowed you to believe.”

  She wiped her nose again and pulled back to gaze up at him. “What does that mean?”

  “She was at court when I lived there. She was one of my wife’s best friends.”

  “Is she of noble birth?”

  “Not quite. Sub-noble. You do not seem to have a similar caste in Welce. She and persons of her ilk can be very powerful, but they need patrons—the wealthy members of the aristocracy—to give them cachet. And then they can be dangerous indeed.”

  “In what way?”

  “They are considered facilitators. Procurers. They learn what it is that their patrons desire and find ways to fulfill those desires.”

  “She supplied your wife with victims,” Leah guessed.

  “Precisely. She was, in some ways, even more amoral than my wife. Even more extreme.”

  Leah trembled a little, remembering Seka’s intense attentions, her fervent kiss, her seemingly unappeasable appetite for novelty. For life. “And how has she atoned for the terrible things she did?”

  “As far as I know, she has not. As far as I know, she considered her work for my wife to be her good deeds. They are what she banked against any heinous actions of the future.”

  “She must hate you.”

  “I find it hard to imagine that anyone anywhere in the southern nations hates someone else as much as Seka Mardis hates me.”

  “Then you really need those drugs, if Jaker has them.”

  “Yes,” said Chandran. “I probably do.”

  • • •

  Morning came too soon, if Leah gauged it by how quickly Chandran might leave her. Not soon enough, if she concentrated on retrieving Mally. They were on their way by daybreak, the bigger, heavier vehicles lumbering away on the northern route, the smaller, sleeker ones navigating the poorly maintained road that angled to the south.

  Today, Yori was their driver, and she was small enough that the three of them fit more comfortably in the elaymotive. She wasn’t as talkative as Jaker, though, and concentrated almost wholly on maneuvering down the bad road and scanning the horizon for signs of trouble. Leah couldn’t think of much to say, either, so the three of them traveled for the most part in silence. If you don’t count the screaming in my head, Leah thought.

  Everyone was on edge by the time they broke for lunch, because they could sense they were drawing closer to their quarry. The trail had looped northward, then cut toward the west, and they had just intersected with the main road when they pulled off to take their meal. They were in fairly desolate countryside now as the road paralleled a long, low line of rocky hills that seemed to consist of red granite and scrubby green bushes in equal proportions. The land that stretched out south of the road supported little but wild grass and creeping ivy, and Barlow said there wasn’t a town or homestead for twenty miles.

  “Every trader prays his wagon doesn’t break down anywhere along this route,” he told Leah and Yori as they leaned against the elaymotive and ate their unappetizing meals. “You’re stuck until someone comes along and offers to help you. No water till the next town, either. Nothing.”

  Leah barely listened to him. Her eyes were on Chandran, thirty yards away, deep in a quiet conversation with Jaker. She thought she saw Jaker nod, ask a few questions, then nod again before leading Chandran to the elaymotive he was sharing with one of Darien’s soldiers. She didn’t know if she should be unutterably relieved or unspeakably terrified. Probably both.

  “How far is it from here to the ocean?” Yori asked.

  “Five days in good weather.” Barlow swept a doubtful glance across the seventy or so vehicles pulled off the road onto the rocky ground. “Well, maybe six or seven when there are so many traveling together.”

  “Do you—” Yori started to say, and then paused, tilting her head as if listening to some distant sound.

  “What is it?” Barlow asked.

  “I think I hear motors.�
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  Leah had thought she was already as tense as anyone could be, but at those words, she felt her whole body tighten with anticipatory dread. She bent forward, straining to hear. Was that a low rumble from an approaching elaymotive or just the blood roaring in her ears?

  Whatever it was, others in their group had heard it as well. At a shout from the captain, the soldiers mobilized. About a dozen hopped into their own elaymotives and drove them across the pavement, creating a roadblock three and four cars deep. Roughly half of the remaining soldiers took up a military formation behind the imperfect cover of the smoker cars, facing east and readying their weapons. The rest ranged along the side of the road, prepared to charge in any direction.

  “Where’s Chandran? I need to find Chandran,” Leah said.

  Yori stopped her with a hand on her arm. “He’ll find his way to Darien,” Yori said, her voice kind but unyielding. “You don’t need to be in the middle of those negotiations. You need to be focused on Mally, when she’s returned to us.”

  Leah stared at her, hearing the echo of Darien’s voice in Yori’s words and knowing that he had issued this directive. Yori—Leah is emotional and unstable. I need you to stay with her and keep her steady. Don’t let her interrupt my conference with the prince.

  He might be right. She couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t think straight. “Will I get a chance to say goodbye to him?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know. None of us knows how this will go.”

  “But I—”

  “Trust Darien,” Yori said.

  She didn’t, of course. She didn’t trust Darien, she didn’t trust anyone, but she was, in this particular circumstance, powerless. There would be nothing she could do except fling herself at Chandran, beg him not to throw his life away—and that would net her nothing except the loss of Mally. It was an impossible choice. She was paralyzed.

  “Did he send you here to watch me?” she finally managed to ask.

  Yori only nodded.

  “Then let’s find somewhere that we can sit and see how this unfolds.”

  • • •

  Barlow came with them as they hiked about fifty yards up the hillside and found seats on an outcropping of sun-warmed red stone. Their vantage point not only would allow them to watch everything happening on the road below, but it also would let everyone in the approaching caravan know that Leah was here.

  “Mally might see you,” Yori said in an encouraging voice. “It will give her hope, knowing you’re nearby.”

  “I’m not sure she’ll be able to make out my features from so far away.”

  “She’ll see you. She’ll know it’s you.”

  They were barely settled in place when the building hum of the approaching motors grew suddenly louder, and the whole convoy burst into view. There might have been fifteen elaymotives, traveling fast and sticking close together, and they weren’t prepared to encounter obstacles in the road. There was a great tumult as brakes squealed and passengers shouted and the three lead vehicles slammed into the Welchin elaymotives blocking their way. More shouts, more crashes, and the heart-stopping sound of dozens of weapons locking into place as the Welchin soldiers took aim over the barricade. Karkan guards instantly deployed in a semicircle around the caravan, and they aimed right back.

  For a long, tense moment, the tableau held. No one advanced, no one retreated. Then a single shape detached itself from the line of Welchin soldiers and marched slowly toward the Karkan convoy.

  “There’s a brave man,” Barlow said admiringly.

  Yori nodded, her eyes fixed on the distant scene. “Volunteer,” she said. “Darien doesn’t order anyone to take a risk like that.”

  “What’s he doing? Why is he going over there?” Leah demanded.

  “To ask for a parley. Invite the prince—or more likely, one of his people—to come into our camp and talk terms.”

  “We have more soldiers than they do,” Leah said. “Or we will when the rest of our troops catch up. Won’t the Karkans have to surrender? We could just kill them all, right?” She’d never been the bloodthirsty type. It was appalling to think she could look at almost a hundred living, breathing people and wish them all dead, as violently as necessary.

  “We could,” Yori agreed. “But they have something we want, so they know we won’t.”

  “But if they just give Mally back to us—”

  “Then they have no leverage,” Yori said. “And even if they agree to return her, they might insist on keeping her until they’re at the port. I would if I were the prince.”

  “Five more days?” Leah said, appalled.

  “Maybe. Let’s see.”

  The Welchin emissary made it safely to the Karkan perimeter and conferred briefly with someone whose head poked through the bristling line of weapons. Leah couldn’t tell if the Karkan negotiator was a man or a woman. I wonder if Seka Mardis will speak for the prince, she thought. It was probably a great honor to be the prince’s emissary; all his attendants would fight for the opportunity.

  It definitely wasn’t a woman who separated from the Karkan contingent a few minutes later and followed Darien’s guard through the double line of soldiers. Leah had been focused so hard on the Karkans that she hadn’t noticed the activity under way in the Welchin camp, so she was surprised to see that a sizable tent had been pitched some distance from the road. This was no doubt Darien’s makeshift conference room, Leah thought. He might even have brought comfortable chairs, writing paper, elegant amenities like wine or fruited water. He would be prepared to negotiate through the night.

  The Welchin guard stopped at the entrance to the tent, but the Karkan ducked his head and went in.

  “Now what?” Leah asked.

  “Now we wait.”

  “I don’t see Chandran. Is he in the tent with Darien?”

  Barlow spoke up. “No. He’s over there with Jaker. See?” He pointed.

  “Darien wouldn’t want to tip his hand,” Yori said. “He’ll say he wants to make a trade, but he might not be specific at first.”

  “Maybe he won’t even need to trade,” Leah said hopefully. “Maybe he’ll just sign the treaty. That’s what they want anyway, isn’t it? Then they give Mally back and they don’t even have to know about Chandran.”

  Yori’s face showed dissent, but all she said was, “Let it all play out. No one is better at these games than Darien.”

  It’s not a game! Leah wanted to wail. It’s life and death! It’s Mally and Chandran! It’s everything I love, and I’m going to lose someone I cannot afford to lose, and I will die of it. I will.

  But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Not if she got Mally back. I have to get her back. She folded her hands together so tightly the knuckles turned white, and she stared down at Darien’s tent as if her gaze might somehow burn through the rough canvas and allow her to view the colloquy inside.

  It might have been twenty minutes later that the Karkan emissary emerged and was escorted back toward the convoy.

  “That didn’t take too long,” Barlow observed.

  Yori shook her head. “Just an opening gambit. Not the real offer. Everyone knows it.”

  How? How do they know? Leah wanted to ask. But she said nothing. She no longer trusted herself to speak.

  The emissary slipped past the lines of soldiers and into the Karkan stronghold. Leah took a moment to study the way the Karkans had responded to the roadblock. Like Darien, the prince seemed to think they would be here for a while, and he had set up his own tent amid the chaos of crashed smoker cars and milling attendants. His was made from brightly striped blue and green fabric and featured a small, impudent banner waving from the center pole.

  I wonder where Mally is? she thought and stared hard at the collection of elaymotives in the Karkan caravan. Several were quite large, maybe thirty feet long and eight or ten feet wide; they were practical
ly small houses on wheels. A young girl could easily be held captive in one of those, along with a watcher or two, and travel in relative comfort. Because surely they were treating her well—feeding her—giving her a safe place to sleep—promising her that no matter what happened, she wouldn’t be hurt, no, not the slightest bit—

  “What was that?” Barlow asked as a single sharp report echoed off the rocky hillside. Every soldier in the opposing camps snapped to attention, but none of them made an aggressive move. A moment later, there was a flurry of motion at the entrance to the blue and green tent. Two men emerged, carrying something heavy between them. They pushed through the ranks of soldiers, hauled their burden to the side of the road, and dumped it. Yori caught her breath.

  “What is that? I can’t see,” Leah demanded.

  “The Karkan emissary,” Yori said. “It’s the prince’s way of saying he won’t accept the offered deal.”

  “Killed his own man?” Barlow asked in a disbelieving voice. “Just to say no?”

  “He wants to let Darien know he’s serious.”

  Leah heard a sob break from her own mouth, and she turned away, pressing a hand to her lips. If the prince would murder his own messenger, he would kill anyone else who displeased him. Who encumbered him. Who enraged him. Mally. Chandran. Anyone.

  “He’s crazy,” Barlow said with conviction.

  Yori shrugged. “Or merely cruel and powerful.”

  “So what happens next?”

  “He sends another emissary.”

  “Who’d agree to go?” Barlow demanded.

  “I’m not sure any of his people have a choice,” Yori answered.

  Or they don’t mind the risk, Leah thought, still turned away from the scene below. She remembered how eagerly Seka Mardis had talked about trying to find favor with the prince, how she hated the other sycophants at court who were always clawing for a better position. Seka Mardis would take the challenge. She would undergo any danger for her prince. She’s nothing without him. She’d die for him.

  Leah closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing.