“You’ve never seen a harp?” asked Baagh.
“I’ve seen many.”
Back in Varazam. Silent and orphaned. I’d never heard one.
The melodies streamed patiently from her fingers, and I closed my eyes. I imagined that I was resting under the dome of the Great Church. Icons and candles were melting and dripping images from the campaign between my eyelids. I was melting to the marrow in Thalassopolis, like a doe in hot butter. When the music stopped, the Eunuch Carpus started talking to Baagh, turning to look at me more than once. The Reghen was not in the room; they kept him outside, and I could hear his protests behind the door.
Baagh leaned over and told me, “Carpus says that we have a golden opportunity to become very rich and to acquire our own mansion in Thalassopolis, if we decide to become friends of the Emperor.”
“And do what, exactly?”
“Be the eyes and the ears of Carpus in Malan’s court.”
“Court? What court?”
Despite Baagh’s efforts to translate, the words of Carpus didn’t mean anything to me. I answered without understanding the proposal.
“But we won’t be near Malan. We’re heading in the opposite direction. It will be a long time before we see him again. If we see him again.”
“You could return to Apelo.”
A yes or a no. Answers came easier that way.
“No, Baagh. I want to return to my own church. I will not become anyone’s golden slave.”
“Haven’t you seen the truth yet? Can’t you see what he is offering? Do you want to go back to the land of the horse shit and the mud?”
“My truth, Baagh, is not within these walls. This is an empty body that looks like my truth.”
“Look at what you would be leaving behind, Da-Ren. And to find what? There is nothing there. Nobody.”
I knew what Baagh was saying. She was not there anymore. And I was no longer part of the Tribe. I was a wandering barbarian. The Tribe had spat me out. This could be my new shelter. A mansion with a triclinium and a marbled bathtub, plenty of coins for the macellarum, and beautiful slave girls with green-speckled eyes. I could fill a codex with my own Story here. Or fill a bathtub with my own blood.
“It looks so much like it, Baagh. The Forest, the garden, the woman. But it isn’t here.”
Carpus said something to his guards, and they left, soon to return with the Reghen. The eunuch insisted in a more commanding voice and a sharper tone. This time, as he spoke, he looked at the Reghen as well. He said through Baagh’s translated words that our campaign was a brutal and futile stupidity and a sin that we would burn for. The Holy Empire, he said, had imposed a special tax: four of every hundred coins earned by the merchants now went to the Emperor’s collectors to pay for an army built to defend the Empire against the Tribe. It was not long before they would crush us. Our gimmicks and battle tactics wouldn’t work this time.
“They, too, are making double-curved bows, and soon they will have twice as many,” Baagh translated to me.
The Reghen was staring at me, like he wanted to run and warn the Tribe the same moment. How valuable was this information to his brothers? It would have been for me too, if I hadn’t sacrificed my own brothers at the sand hills of Apelo.
Carpus continued, “The merchants wail in despair as the tax collectors keep asking for more. They can’t pay any more taxes for this war, and many have taken their own lives rather than live the disgrace of losing everything.” He could double his offer.
“What you’re doing serves no purpose, First Sword Keeper of Malan. Your strength was proved a long time ago. You have cost the Holy Empire a great deal of gold, only to loot much less. We would have given you double what you took to protect our borders above the North River. This is absolute madness. What will you do with the stolen gold if you have no allies to trade and barter with?”
Carpus raised good questions. But I didn’t care for them, nor for the Tribe that sacrificed children in the Sieve to make warriors out of them.
“He will double the gold, he’ll bring us virgins from the South, First Sword Keepers, eunuchs, Malan’s court. I am losing my mind here, Baagh. I have no idea what he’s talking about. Tell him to stop. I will not go back to Malan, no matter what this man offers.”
The Reghen had proved to be wise and remained silent all night, but his face was now red with rage, and he was pulling my sleeve. He knew how to count gold. Since I did not seem willing to wear the gold and pearl chain of the treacherous dog of the Southeastern Empire around my neck, Carpus changed tactics. He suggested I return to Malan to bring an offer on behalf of the Emperor. The weight of five warriors in gold coin every summer under one condition:
“King Malan must return to Sirol, where he will protect the northern borders of the Holy Empire. He will stop looting the cities of Antia and the South immediately. We will give you enough gold to trade for anything your tribe might desire.”
Carpus placed a vellum parchment wrapped in a thin red fabric band and secured with a golden seal on the table in front of me. A placid face, same as the ones in the church’s icons, was carved on the seal, fearless of any ragged barbarian like Malan.
“From the Emperor himself,” said Baagh. “This chrysoboule has the Emperor’s final offer. Your king will accept it, or we’ll unleash the unfathomable powers of the Empire upon you.”
From the Emperor with the golden palaces for King Malan. How far from the Sieve and the Uncarved training I had come. That training, they told me, would make me a great leader of men. A training of shooting pumpkins on horseback.
The Reghen spoke out for the first time. “You are not one to answer anything. You have gone too far, Da-Ren. This offer must be taken to Khun-Malan.”
I had ignored the Reghen until then, but he could cause problems. I found the opportunity to mock him and his Stories.
“Reghen, oh wise Reghen, what do you ask of us?”
“What I demand is clear.”
“But the Story, Reghen, the one you used to tell us as children. Have you forgotten? Before Khun-Nan the First, our ancestors became beggars and crawled unarmed to the cities of the othertribers. Starving, they begged for a handful of millet. And what did those serpents do, the servants of the Demon? They asked us to trade our children. They enslaved them, and some say devoured them. There is no peace until we annihilate them all. Do you forget the Stories? The Final Battle is upon us, Reghen. This hairless Carpus snake just slithered out of Darhul’s asshole. Are you going to believe what he offers?”
Despite my sarcasm and indifference for the Stories of the Tribe, I was absolutely right. It would take many summers for all the Reghen to realize that I was right.
“These decisions are to be made only by Khun-Malan. You are nothing—not even the Firstblade anymore,” said the Reghen.
“You should be glad I don’t have a blade,” I said.
“Both of you must end this now. Or we’ll spend the rest of our lives in the cells,” said Baagh.
“I am here, Reghen. And the Tribe doesn’t have Legends for gold. Never did. It has many other Legends for the Goddess and the brave.” I turned to Baagh and said, “Tell Carpus that only the Reghen knows how to count gold. I say that we don’t accept.”
“I am not going to translate that because I am afraid that Carpus will poison us and then negotiate with the Reghen. I will tell Carpus that he is trying to bribe a wolf with fruit and music and that the proposal he has made must reach King Malan. Carpus will understand this. He must let us go, but we need to deliver this message back to Malan. Their proposed peace will be good. For everyone.”
“I am not sailing back to Antia. Let the Reghen take the offer to Malan,” I said.
It was my big opportunity to get rid of him.
They led us to our rooms to rest for the night. The carved wooden bed was covered with embroidered green and blue fabric, and underneath it were thick layers of cotton. Pillows filled with goose feathers were strewn all over the bed. I had an
uneasy feeling that eyes were watching me from behind the curtains and the guards would murder me in my sleep. But I had slept a whole moon in the boat’s hold. I collapsed from sheer exhaustion, falling into a deep, lethargic unconsciousness. I drifted through abysmal nightmares as I sank deeply into the soft cotton. I dreamed that the pillars of the Holy Church crumbled and came crashing upon me. Guards with hay-colored hair on their skinless skull faces were dipping my face in bowls filled with pork fat and molten gold, and fat virgins were sitting on top of me opening up my belly with small sickle knives.
In the morning, Carpus told us that he had spoken with the Emperor. His envoys were preparing to leave with an arrowfast trireme for Antia to deliver their offer to Malan. From the moment I set foot on Thalassopolis, it seemed as if some god, theirs or ours, were helping me for once. I suggested that they take the Reghen with them to Apelo to relay their wishes directly to Malan.
“Will you go, Reghen?” I asked.
“Khun-Malan has ordered me to accompany you to Sirol.”
“But you know that this new mission is more important. You want to go back with them. To the Khun. You must warn our brothers.”
The Reghen wasn’t insane to prefer to stay with me.
“Yes. After all, there are more Reghen in Sirol,” he said.
That thought made my stomach sick. The Reghen and Ouna-Mas would still be all-powerful in Sirol.
I never wore my old clothes again. I chose the simplest, brown-colored pants and milk-white short tunic that didn’t have any elaborate designs. My new chestnut cloak was washed and scented, but there was nothing I could do about that. The Protospathos brought gifts for us: rich fabrics like the ones I had seen in the palace, leopard skins, and a chalice. He gave me a holy book studded with sparkling gemstones. It was the first book I had ever held, and I kept it for a very short time. I asked for two sacks of roast meat for my men. He bade us farewell with an expressionless look on his face, and we left—just the two of us this time. He must have known when I asked for the meat that I wasn’t the man I claimed to be. I opened my fastest stride.
Once we were out of the palace, we changed guards again and were escorted to the harbor by the more meagerly dressed soldiers. In the light of day, I could see the faces of my enemies clearly. Eight of them had the common features of the othertribers: brown hair, and skin paler than ours. Two of the men were dark skinned like demons, one freckled face with hay-colored locks and the last one caught my attention most of all. Every time I looked at him, he would look away. I could swear that he was a man of my Tribe.
We walked the same road that had brought us to the palace but in the opposite direction, passing by narrow streets and towering buildings that sometimes blocked out the sun and at other times would allow straight streams of light to illuminate the surroundings.
The wildest Tribe I ever knew, the Dasal, lived as savages in the oak forest away from roads, fields among the trees. The richest men of the whole world, the masters of Thalassopolis, had built cities, with buildings and churches standing so close like a dense woodland. It was as if they longed to return to the ancient forest who bore them, so they made one out of stone.
“Forest. I’ve been here before,” I said to myself.
“I asked them to take us by the Hippodrome,” said Baagh.
We walked for a long time outside the giant Arena of Horses. The Wolfhowl, our arena, was just a muddy hole dug in the dirt. This one was made of rock and lined with marble, Baagh said. We didn’t go inside.
“How many fit in here?” I asked.
“One hundred thousand. It is more than four hundred paces long and wide,” said Baagh.
More than the entire Tribe.
But it, too, was just an arena, like the Wolfhowl, nothing more. A battlefield where the brave stood out, even if the stars and their mothers and the witches had planned a different fate for them. No matter how differently the believers of the Cross tried to paint their dreams, nightmares, prophecies, temples, and curses, they were the same as ours. No matter how much they embellished themselves, they still looked exactly the same as the people of my Tribe.
Baagh demanded that we stop at the marketplace and asked me for one of my gold coins to buy as much of the finely woven silk as we could carry.
“We can’t wear this in Sirol. Why are you buying this?” I asked.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to be invincible and immortal? That’s why.”
As soon as the merchant saw me poking the rolls, he pulled them back and started complaining loudly.
“He won’t sell it because of you,” said Baagh. “It is forbidden to sell to barbarians.”
I took out the precious gem-covered holy book that Carpus had given me. I picked up from the merchant’s stall a small blade and removed two small blue stones that shone like a long-forgotten kiss. Those I wanted to keep. The captain of the guard behind us yelled loudly, and Baagh said we had to get moving. I gave the holy book to the silk merchant. He looked at me as if he didn’t believe his eyes. He hid the book underneath the bench and pushed the silk to Baagh. They had given us a mule to carry the gifts of Carpus, and we loaded as much milk-white silk as it could carry.
We found our merchant boat among the warships moored in the military harbor. Their cries of joy betrayed that no one expected us to come back alive. I raised my fist to greet Leke as soon as I saw him from a distance. We made it to the boat, and I climbed onto the deck ready to sail to freedom.
“We sail for the Blackvein!” I shouted as we loaded the sacks with the meat and the gifts. My order was followed by the cheers of the Blades around me. They couldn’t believe what had happened, and they didn’t care in the least.
“The Reghen?” asked Noki.
“Forget him. He’s going back to Malan,” I said.
I waited for Baagh to board, but two guards of the Cross were holding him by the arms, and their chief began arguing with him.
Baagh had introduced earlier their chief by the name of Raios, but that was all I knew of him.
“Come on, get on board!” I ordered Baagh.
“He won’t let me,” he said.
“Come on, that trick won’t work with me. You’re not going to escape so easily.”
“It’s true.”
Raios gave an order, and the guards pulled out their swords.
“Let’s leave now, Firstblade,” said Noki.
Even Agathon was in a hurry to leave, as he caught the smell of the coming massacre.
“I am not leaving without you! You owe me, and you’re coming with me!” I shouted at Baagh.
“Raios says he has orders to keep me as a hostage until their envoys return from Malan.”
Clouds started to fill the midday sky. A storm was descending fast. Hundreds of othertriber soldiers were just a few feet away from us, scattered throughout the entire harbor.
“Black snakes. We did not agree to this. You’re coming with me, Sorcerer. I saved you from certain death in Apelo.”
Raios continued talking threateningly to Baagh, but he ordered the harbor guards to keep our mooring ropes tied. The men, theirs and mine, were twitching to grasp their blades and finish this. One breath before everyone’s patience and mine were exhausted, Baagh’s face lighted up and he gave me a sly grin.
“Take out five gold coins and give them to him,” he said.
“Why?”
“To get this over with.”
I took out three. I showed them to Raios.
He showed me five fingers.
I took out a fourth.
He showed me ten fingers.
I took out five and threw them toward the dock. Raios fell to his knees and hurriedly gathered the coins like a molosser going for red meat. They let Baagh go, and he climbed onto the boat next to me. Raios spat in our direction for the last time, and Agathon shouted for the men to row.
“We’re off!” I shouted before anyone had a chance to change their minds as we put distance between us and the other ships
of the military guard and exited the harbor. I wanted to get away from Thalassopolis before nightfall. One of their ships followed us.
“Holy Apostles! I should have figured it out earlier,” said Baagh.
I still hadn’t figured it out and asked, “Why would Carpus give an order like that? To offer us gifts and then kill you for five gold pieces? He had thousands and was offering them to us. And why didn’t you stay? It was your big chance to escape.”
“What happened had nothing to do with Carpus, Da-Ren. Raios saw the gold that I took out at the marketplace and wanted some for himself and his men. They wouldn’t have taken me back to Carpus or to anyone else if you hadn’t paid. They would have thrown me into the sea, in pieces.”
I told Agathon to get us out of the straits fast, but the wind was weak. I reminded him that I would let him return with the ship and his family only after we had disembarked north of the mouth of the Blackvein. Before setting sail again, I gave the captain the option of leaving his wife and one of his sons in Thalassopolis, and that convinced him that I meant what I said. He didn’t leave them.
All the other men were at the oars forcing the boat to move faster. We left the fires and clamor of Thalassopolis behind. I was surprised we didn’t head for the strait that was secured by the chain but sailed in a different westerly direction.
“What are you doing?” I asked Agathon.
“I am taking you to the Blackvein. That’s the way—the westerly strait. The horned strait is a dead end; it leads back to the Palace.”
“And why are you telling me now? Are you saying we sailed into their palace ourselves in the first place?”
He looked at Baagh and didn’t answer me. I ran to the Cross Sorcerer and grabbed him.
“What was this all about, Baagh? Was it your plan all along to go to the palace?”
“Your imagination runs wild, Da-Ren. And you are not very thankful. You are sailing to the mouth of the Blackvein, and free, as I promised. Aren’t you?”
Drakon Omnibus Page 80
