by Victor Poole
"Yes," Daniel said at once. "He's dead. I saw him out in the hall. Coren said Thell wanted to kill everyone last night," Daniel added with relish.
"Is Thell a eunuch?" Ajalia asked. Daniel looked up at her with a grin.
"No, he's not," Daniel said. "Or he wasn't," the boy amended. "They don't cut the priests anymore. The old Thief Lord, Delmar's father, said that it was barbaric. But they used to do it when Tree was in charge." Daniel slapped the wet rag against the floor, and rubbed the white stones. "Isacar told me that you were from one of the old families," Daniel told Fashel, working the poison juice into the stones. "He said you're hard to get along with."
Fashel blushed again.
"I bet he didn't say that," Fashel said hotly. Daniel grinned at Ajalia again, and the boy's new white brand glistened sharply over his chest.
"Not in those words," Daniel admitted happily, "but that's what he was thinking." Ajalia looked back and forth between the young woman and the boy.
"What are the old families?" Ajalia asked.
"Corrupt," Daniel said, before Fashel could speak. Fashel glared at the boy, and answered Ajalia with dignity.
"My father was descended directly from Jerome," Fashel said. "He took his responsibilities very seriously." Daniel snorted loudly, and Fashel shot the boy a venomous look. "The rules for families like mine are different," Fashel said. "My father followed many of the old ways, out of respect for his ancestors."
"What she means is that her father had a lot of affairs, and hung out with nasty old priests in exchange for money," Daniel told Ajalia. The boy glanced with tolerant liking at Fashel. "She's probably okay," he told Ajalia, "but her idea of our traditions is not accurate."
Fashel had gone red, and then white in the face throughout this speech.
"This is not true," she said, her voice strained. "My father was a very nice man."
"Isacar told me who your father was," Daniel said. "Everyone knows about him. He's awful. Was," Daniel amended.
"That is not fair!" Fashel said angrily. "My father was not awful at all!"
"He was friends with Thell," Daniel shot back. "I've seen him outside the silver temple. Everyone has. Everyone knows your sisters follow the old traditions, and pretend that it's because they believe. It's the only way not to be persecuted for witchcraft," Daniel told Ajalia. "The old Slavithe way is to keep all the light in the family. People were horrible to each other then. Delmar's going to change all that," he told Fashel. "He's going to put your mother away, or banish her, and your sisters are going to be punished as witches, just like everyone else who does what they do."
Ajalia felt as though she had been dropped into another world; an anxious swirling was building through her chest. She could feel herself starting to shut down. After last night, with the fight in the great hall, she had been tired, but now she began to feel sickened in her mind. She had been sure, when she had done battle with Simon, and beaten away the chunks of corrupt light in Delmar, Rane, and Ocher, that she had found the depth of corruption in Slavithe, but now, she thought, she was finding that she had not even scratched the surface. She turned to leave the kitchen, and when she came into the hall, she found that Philas was approaching.
"What are you doing here?" Ajalia asked sharply. She glanced back at Fashel and Daniel, who had looked around at her, and she went out of sight of the kitchen. "Come into another room," Ajalia told Philas, and Philas followed her back into the dragon temple hall, which she saw had been cleared of bodies, stones, and blood.
Ajalia took Philas into a room that lay off the main hall, and she took up a chair and dragged it to the window. She felt as if she were going to be sick; a deep swirl of anger and regret was pressing in on the edges of her stomach. She felt overwhelmed, and tired, and without any hope for relief. Delmar would know what was wrong with me, Ajalia told herself, and she sat down near the window, and gestured for Philas to sit down.
"What are you doing here?" Ajalia asked again. Philas stood in the center of the room with his arms folded. He was looking suspiciously at Ajalia.
"What happened to your arms?" Philas asked. Ajalia looked blankly down at her inner arms, and she could not think at first of what Philas meant. She had felt utterly refreshed when she had gotten up in the afternoon, but now she was beginning to think that she ought to have stayed locked in her room.
"Um," Ajalia said.
"Your scars," Philas said impatiently. "Where are your scars?" Ajalia looked at Philas, and she wondered what she had ever seen in him. His face, which had begun to look almost handsome when he had been staying in Slavithe, was now haggard and worn. His beard was lank on his cheeks, and there were ugly blue shadows in his skin.
"You've been drinking," Ajalia observed. Philas made a sour face at her.
"I had to get new horses for Barat," Philas said. "I've come to get the money you kept behind."
"No," Ajalia said.
"You kept most of the horses," Philas said. Ajalia had managed all of the horses since Philas and the other slaves had gone to Talbos; she wondered why Philas was being so vague.
"Why didn't you go East with the others?" Ajalia asked him.
"Haven't you sold the horses yet?" Philas demanded.
"You go home," Ajalia told him. "I don't need you here." Philas seemed to hear for the first time what she had said. His eyes darkened.
"You can't tell me to go home," Philas snapped. "I'm in charge now. Even if you're staying here for master, you have to do what I say."
"I've become a naturalized citizen," Ajalia told him. "Technically, in Slavithe, I'm no longer a slave."
Philas stared at her, and his right eyelid twitched.
"That doesn't mean anything," he said automatically.
"It will mean a great deal to master," Ajalia said. "Have you heard about Simon?"
"Who's Simon?" Philas asked sourly. He was looking more and more cranky the longer they talked. She had begun, when he had first appeared in the hall, to think that Philas was going to be reasonable, but now she thought that he had been falling to pieces ever since he had met her for the last time in the forest.
"Philas, why didn't you go East?" Ajalia asked again. He glared at her.
"I don't have to go East," he said. "You're staying here. Therefore, I am also staying here. You need me." Ajalia held back a laugh; she felt almost crazy. She could not believe that Philas was here, in this state, and telling her what to do.
"Philas," Ajalia said patiently. Philas scowled at her.
"Don't try to manage me, Jay," he snapped.
"Don't call me that," Ajalia said calmly. Her knife lay easily against her back; she had never pulled her knife on Philas before, but, she told herself, there was a first time for everything. Philas looked as though he were thinking of taking a step towards her.
"Where's Delmar?" Philas asked warily.
"I can hurt you without asking Delmar for permission," Ajalia told Philas. "And I don't think any of my servants will protect you from me." Philas made a face at her.
"You're being very silly," Philas said. "I'm sure you don't really like Delmar."
"I do," Ajalia said. "And it's none of your business, and you look like a homeless man." Philas bridled a little at this; his chin doubled down, and his mouth curved down into his beard.
"That has nothing to do with anything," Philas said stuffily.
"You will be lucky if master will take you back at all," Ajalia said. "And by the way," she said, thinking of it for the first time, and opening her bag, "what is this?"
She saw Philas take a half-step towards her, and then pause. She knew that he was remembering the slaves that she had marked at home in the East. It had been a long time, but she had a reputation among their master's slaves of a being with whom it was not wise to trifle. Ajalia was sure that Philas was thinking about whether or not she had gone soft.
"What happened to the scars on your arms?" he asked again. His voice had softened a little; she knew that he was telling himself to
wear her down a little, and she smiled.
"What is this?" Ajalia asked, drawing out the engraved gold ring, and holding it up. Philas's eyes, which had been doggedly fixed on Ajalia's arms, jumped up to the ring, and Ajalia saw a strange stillness come into his face.
"That isn't anything," Philas said blankly. "I don't know what that is." Ajalia was sure that Philas was lying to her.
"That's too bad," Ajalia said. "I found it mixed up with an old man's things here. I thought it must have come from Saroyan. I wanted to send it back there with the ambassadors." Philas jumped as though he had been prodded with a hot pin.
"What ambassadors?" Philas demanded, his whole expression swirling into a knot of anxiety.
"The ambassadors that Delmar will send to Saroyan from Slavithe," Ajalia said, "explaining the change in regime."
Philas blinked sluggishly; he looked as though his brain had shut off in some desperate act of self-preservation.
"You're just saying that," Philas said. His voice was dull, as if he had checked out of himself, and was now going through the motions of speaking to Ajalia.
"I found some papers in among Lim's things," Ajalia told him. "I think they came from Saroyan as well." Philas's eyes sharpened, and he glared suspiciously at her.
"You're making that up," Philas said slowly.
"Why?" Ajalia asked. "Did you misplace some papers from Saroyan?"
"No," Philas said quickly. The shadows in his face were deepening, but his eyes were sobering up. "Where did you find these papers?" he asked her. "I went through all of Lim's things myself." Ajalia smiled. Wouldn't you like to know, her eyebrows said. Philas's lips thinned out and his chin bundled up in annoyance. "Be straight with me, Ajalia," he said.
"Why did you stay back in Talbos?" Ajalia asked. "You know that I don't need your help here." Philas shifted where he stood. He looked as though he regretted coming here.
"Where did you find those two papers?" he asked. Ajalia remembered that she had only told him she had found papers, and that she had not mentioned there being two of them.
"Does master know?" Ajalia asked. Philas regarded her warily.
"Know what?" he asked cautiously.
"That you're hiding from him, and hiding those papers?" Ajalia asked. Philas's mouth went sour.
"Don't play games with me, woman," Philas told her. "I know what you're doing. It won't work on me."
"Then I'm sure Delmar will deal with it. Unless," Ajalia said, "you were planning on catching up with Barat." Philas's mouth and jaw had locked into an angry line. His eyes were bitter, and his neck was slowly going red. He looked as though he wanted to say that she was not being nice to him, but he also seemed to remember that he had been rude to her before she had been rude to him.
"Well," Philas said.
"I also found this," Ajalia said, drawing the small golden dagger with the initials G. E. inscribed on it out of her bag. Philas gave another start; he did not conceal his reaction very well.
"Where did you get that?" Philas asked her, and Ajalia saw that he was trying to keep his voice calm.
"Why?" Ajalia asked. "Is it yours?"
Philas glared at her, and she saw a muscle in his jaw working violently up and down.
"If I tell you," he said evenly, "will you give it to me?"
"Will you admit that it's yours?" Ajalia asked. Philas stared hard at her, and then at the dagger.
"No," he said.
"Leed told me you've been drinking heavily," Ajalia remarked. She put the dagger and the ring back into her bag. Philas's eyes followed the progress of the items, and Ajalia knew that he was wondering if he would be able to get away with stealing them from her. "Why did you keep some of the slaves back?" she asked him. "You could have all gone back with Barat."
"Master told me to set up house," Philas said. He looked up at Ajalia. "Didn't he tell you that?" he asked suspiciously.
"Master will be staying with me when he comes," Ajalia said. "If," she added, "he comes."
"Not if he comes to Talbos," Philas said grimly. "I've taken a good house there, and I'm setting up the trade. I can cut a way through the mountains, if you'll come and help me. We could get a straight passage from Talbos to the white road."
"Really?" Ajalia asked, interested. "How would you do this?"
"Well, you would have to help me," Philas said aggressively.
"Why can't you do it yourself?" Ajalia asked. Philas made an irritated face.
"Because I can't stay sober when you aren't around," he said reluctantly. Ajalia smiled at him, but his expression darkened. "I'm serious," Philas complained.
"That would have been a sweet thing to say," Ajalia replied, "if you had not been coming in and acting like you wanted to beat me up." Philas stared at her, and his mouth opened in surprise.
"I wasn't going to attack you!" he said indignantly. Ajalia looked at him, and his face began to glow. "Well, you live in a big house now," he said, looking around at the room.
"Yes," Ajalia said pointedly, "with Delmar." Philas worked his lips back and forth.
"I don't think that's fair," Philas said.
"Are you leaving now, or would you like to tell me who G. E. is?" Ajalia asked. Philas looked furious.
"I came for the money," he told her.
"You have no authority over me," Ajalia said.
"I do, too," he said.
"Lim is dead, and Barat is in charge. I have been in charge of myself ever since you failed to manage your position," Ajalia said clearly. Philas, who was already ruddy with anger and shame, almost began to glow.
"I don't think it's fair to bring any of that up," he muttered.
"Who is G. E., and what does the number 4 represent on the knife?" Ajalia asked.
"The fourth king of Saroyan's initials," Philas said. "Now will you come to Talbos with me?" Ajalia stood up and went out of the room. Philas trailed after her, his mouth in an angry curved line. "You have to answer questions like that," Philas complained. Ajalia asked herself why, since she had met Delmar, other men seemed to think that she was a public dispensary of affection. This sort of thing never used to happen to me, Ajalia said to herself, and it was reasonably true. "Ajalia!" Philas said, hurrying along behind her. The great wide hall of the dragon temple was deserted. "Where are you going?"
Ajalia went and put her head into the kitchen. Daniel was still there, holding an argument with Fashel on the merits of steamed vegetables versus roasted. Daniel looked up from the dripping rag he was holding, and saw Ajalia's face.
"Where is Sun?" Ajalia asked.
"With Coren, upstairs," Daniel said at once. "Try the roof," he added quickly. Ajalia nodded, and pushed Philas out into the back of the hall.
"Stay here for five minutes," Ajalia told him. "Don't go exploring," she warned, meeting his eye. Philas opened his mouth to protest, but he seemed to see that she was serious, and Ajalia thought that her clearly vigorous intent to do things would delay his desire to follow her incessantly. "I will come back," she said, "but if you have gone about on your own, I will be seriously displeased." Philas closed his mouth hard.
"Fine," he said, and folded his arms.
Ajalia went quickly up the stairs, and peeked into the second and third floor halls as she passed. She saw several boys gathered the doorway of a small room on the second floor; she thought that Esther and Chad were in there with the other boys. She came up to the roof, and saw Coren, Ossa, and Sun sitting on pillows. Ossa, Ajalia saw, had obtained the ointment she had gone in search of, for Coren's ugly marks, which had been black and cavernous the night before, and then like spreading red birthmarks after Ajalia's mixed magic had seeped like fire into his skin, were covered now in a slick bluish oil that ameliorated the darkness of the red, and made the boy look like some alien being.
Coren looked up at Ajalia. His eyes were not as angry as they had been, and his cheeks and mouth twisted up into a swift smile. He looked genuinely pleased to see Ajalia, which, Ajalia thought, was a great improvement
from before.
"I don't look as bad now," Coren told her. Ajalia thought that Coren was beginning to resemble now her own house boys. She had been sure, last night when she had talked alone with the boy, that he would have to be sent away from Slavithe, but now he seemed purer inside, and not as uncouth and disruptive as he had been. She wondered what Wall would have to say about Coren's transformation, if that young man were ever again in his little brother's vicinity.
"You don't look as bad," Ajalia agreed, and then she looked at Sun. "Are you still anxious to be married?" Ajalia asked the girl. Sun's blue cornflower eyes widened at once.
"Are you going to kill Esther?" Sun asked. Ajalia thought it was clear that the girl had spoken before she thought of what she was saying; Sun looked abashedly around at Ossa, and bit her lip. "I heard that Chad was going to marry Esther," Sun added in a low voice.
"He might," Ajalia said. "I wasn't thinking of Chad."
"Who were you thinking of?" Sun asked anxiously. Ajalia smiled an evil smile.
"Excuse us," she said to Ossa and Coren. "Sun and I have business to discuss." Ossa pulled at Coren's sleeve, and they went swiftly to the stairs. Ajalia saw that someone had found a spare shirt for Coren to put on. He looked now like another of her house boys, who all wore tunics of a dark green. Ajalia had made the boys sew their own simple tunics; the markets in Slavithe were full of good cloth, but the clothes, especially for little boys, was composed entirely of bland brown fabrics.
"Who is it?" Sun asked anxiously, as soon as Ossa and Coren were out of sight.
"I want to warn you," Ajalia told her. "You won't like it, and it's not very legal."
"What is it?" Sun asked, her eyes widening even more. The girl had dressed herself again in one of the simple gowns that Calles had given Ajalia, and her yellow hair was drawn back behind her ears, and pulled into a flattering braid. Sun had sewn a small flower out of scraps of red cloth, and she had attached this flower to a hair pin, and fastened it above her ear. The effect was pleasing, and the girl looked less brittle now.
