Sharani series Box Set

by Kevin L. Nielsen

  “No, leave him be. I can show you around here,” she said.

  “Really? You’d do that for me?” he asked. “My name’s Benji, by the way. I run messages and stuff like that. It’s not very important, but it’s better than working in the fields or with the gatheriu, at least that’s what me mother would say.”

  Farah couldn’t help but smile a little at the torrent of words. His accent was thick, but Benji’s meanings were clear. It was nice to smile. That was another thing that both Benji and Gavin shared, apparently. They brought her light in the darkness.

  “Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you the aevians up close.”

  Chapter 12: Diplomacy

  “The Rahuli, now slaves to the Orinai, were already wielding the lesser magics when the Orinai arrived from the east.”

  —From the Discourses on Knowledge, Volume 15, Year 1023

  Benji was waiting for him just outside the door. Gavin hid a smile as he turned and shut the door of the hut behind him, careful to not wake Shallee or her sleeping infant. The child had fussed for most of the night and only now slept peacefully, nestled against his mother’s chest.

  “Back again, Benji?” Gavin said, pulling his cloak tight about his shoulders and walking down the street in the direction of the administration building.

  “You going back to see Master Brisson again?” Benji answered, falling in beside Gavin with a little skip in his step.

  This time Gavin couldn’t help but smile. There was a streak of wit and sarcasm in the boy as wide as the street.

  “I am.”

  Benji grumbled something under his breath and kicked a loose stone across the street, where it struck the wall of one of the huts with a thunk.

  “What was that?” Gavin asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Gavin stopped and gave Benji a flat look.

  Benji squirmed under the look and shuffled his feet. “All you do is just sit there,” Benji complained. “I mean, five days of sitting there and bothering Master Shaw is boring.”

  “You don’t have to sit there with me, you know,” Gavin said, resuming his walk and adjusting his sword at his belt. “You could run messages or work the fields, from what Shaw has implied.”

  Benji snorted and stuck one of his hands into the band of his pants. Gavin shook his head and let the conversation lapse. Since he had first met the boy, Benji had been there all five days. At first, Gavin had attempted various means of shooing him away, but the boy was persistent and eventually Gavin gave in and let the boy follow him around. When Gavin had asked after the boy’s family late one evening after a long day of waiting for Brisson followed by helping Cobb circumspectly map out the perimeter of the little valley, Benji had gone quiet for a while and not spoken to him again for several hours the next day as well. Gavin suspected the boy was an orphan, despite the boy occasionally referring to his mother, but didn’t press the issue.

  “It’s warmer today,” Benji said offhandedly. They turned down another street and were able to make out Brisson’s building over the tops of the other buildings.

  “Is it?” Gavin said, tugging his cloak tighter about his shoulders. “I still feel like I’ve had snow tossed down my back all the time. I don’t see how you run around without shoes.”

  Benji grinned and jumped into the air, knocking the heels of his bare feet together in the air. His lanky brown hair fluttered about in the wind and fell into his eyes. “You get used to it. Real winter isn’t even here yet. It’ll truly be cold then. And you watch out. The boys ‘round here will get you when you’re not looking.”

  Gavin shuddered, though he tried not to let Benji see. “I don’t like the cold.”

  “That’s because you’re from the hot, hot desert,” Benji said knowledgeably, giving Gavin a serious look. “If you put me in that heat, I’d probably melt. Just working the smoke weed fields during midsummer was bad enough.”

  “Smoke weed?”

  It was Benji’s turn to give Gavin a look, one which clearly said Gavin’s question was equivalent to asking what the sun or stars were.

  “The plant old men smoke to try and look important.” Benji spoke slowly and deliberately, as if talking to a small child. “You know, the stuff that grew on Master Nikanor’s plantation?”

  Gavin shook his head. “I’m not familiar with it.”

  Benji whistled, then kicked a rock across the ground into the side of a nearby hut. He cast a sidelong look up at Gavin out of the corner of his eyes, then shrugged. “You’re really strange, Gavin, you know that?”

  “I am who I am, Benji.”

  Benji rolled his eyes, then paused, looking up at Brisson’s building. They were only a few feet away from the front door.

  “Are you sure you want to do this again?” His voice dripped with desperate entreaty.

  “You don’t have to come with me, you know.”

  Benji’s face firmed into a stubborn line and he practically leapt through the doors into the building. Gavin held back a little laugh, which caught in his throat when Benji suddenly darted back out of the room again. Indistinguishable shouting followed him out of the room.

  “Don’t go in there,” Benji said, seriously. “There’s a crazy man in there.”

  The voices got louder and, with a sickening feeling, Gavin recognized one of the speakers. Ignoring Benji’s protests, Gavin pushed through the swinging doors.

  Shaw stood behind his desk, expression dark and clouded, while Brisson stood alongside him, expression dark and murderous. Two other men, their backs to Gavin, stood facing Brisson and Shaw. One of them was Darryn, the new magnetelorium. The other Gavin didn’t recognize, but was holding Darryn by one arm in a rough grip.

  “You do not own me, slave man,” Darryn hissed. “I don’t answer to you or yours.”

  “You’re not permitted to travel beyond the borders of this valley.” Brisson’s voice was hard and matter of fact, as if he were explaining something to a stubborn child. “Not without my express consent.”

  “I sent him,” Gavin said before Darryn could respond.

  Brisson and Shaw looked up. Shaw’s expression grew even darker.

  “You sent him outside the border?” Brisson asked. “Whyever would you do that?”

  Gavin scratched his beard as if thoughtful, grateful that Darryn didn’t speak up and argue the lie. Neither Darryn nor his captor turned to look his way.

  “If you’d taken the time to meet with me the last few days I’ve been here, you would probably know that,” Gavin said, coolly. “Since you haven’t, I think it would be wise if we took the time to discuss it now.”

  Brisson folded his arms across his chest as if to say, “I’m waiting.”

  “In private,” Gavin clarified. He felt surprisingly calm, despite the sprinkle of tension building in the corners of the room.

  “I am incredibly busy right now,” Brisson said, voice gaining a touch of impatience. “I don’t have the time for a meeting.”

  “I think you should make time,” Gavin said. “If you were about to do what I think you were, and punish or lecture one of my people, I think now would be not only the appropriate time for a private meeting, but the perfect time. It could get most unpleasant if you continued in thinking the Rahuli were under your powers to detain as you saw fit.”

  Gavin let the silence hang in the air, feeling the tension grow to the point that it melded with the silence, forming an uncomfortable knot. The man holding Darryn turned his head and glanced at Gavin in the silence and Gavin recognized him. Tadeo, one of the guards who’d brought their companion to the healing room on the night before Samsin was killed.

  “Fine,” Brisson hissed. He stepped away from Shaw and pushed open one of the doors, not looking to see if Gavin followed.

  Gavin didn’t follow immediately. After all, Brisson had made him wait for six entire days; it was Gavin’s turn to let Brisson wait for a change. Gavin knew it was petty, but he didn’t care.

  “Darryn,” Gavin said, thou
gh his eyes locked onto Shaw’s gaze and held him there. “Wait for me outside, will you? There’s a boy named Benji somewhere out there. Have him fetch Cobb and Evrouin, please.”

  “We’re not finished with him,” Shaw snapped, but before he could object any further, Tadeo had released his grip on Darryn’s arm and the Rahuli man had pulled away.

  “As you wish,” Darryn said, nodding toward Gavin. He added a hasty “sir” at the end before exiting, his eyes holding no actual remorse in them. With a note of irritation, Gavin realized he didn’t see any gratitude in them either. Fine then. He hadn’t done it entirely for Darryn’s benefit. It had earned him an audience with Brisson, after all, and that could prove worth the trouble in the end, if he could get the man to see reason.

  “Are you coming or aren’t you?” Brisson’s angry voice sounded from the other room.

  “Just finishing up a few things first,” Gavin called. “You understand.”

  He nodded at Shaw, smiled at Tadeo who regarded him with a blank expression, and then entered the room where Brisson had vanished. For a moment, Gavin thought he’d accidentally entered the wrong room, even though he knew he hadn’t. Every bit of wall was covered in maps, some intricately colored and as large as half the wall, others vague and drawn in charcoal on canvas. Gavin recognized the vague outline of the valley they were in on one of the maps, though most of the others were completely foreign to him. Some of the maps had annotations on them. Others simply had pins or small colored dots on them, depicting what Gavin did not know.

  “Close the door.”

  Brisson sat behind a massive wooden table that was as covered with papers as were the walls. Except for the papers on the desk were arranged in stacks and piles, some with paperweights holding them down, others loose and ragged. Gavin closed the door and turned back to Brisson, only then noticing how haggard the man looked. There were bags under the man’s eyes and what seemed a permanent crease in his forehead. More than that, for a moment, Gavin recognized the deep-seated exhaustion of a man sliding beneath the surface of the sand and struggling to breathe, the face of a leader still struggling to understand how to do everything that was expected of him.

  The next moment that haggard face was covered by a mask of irritation and anger and Gavin was immediately reminded that this was the man who’d sentenced Samsin to be stoned to death and then carried out the execution. Samsin had been, by his own admission, a murderer, but the whole experience left Gavin with a shiver running down his spine whenever he considered the look on Brisson’s face and the way the crowd had seem to delight in Samsin’s death. It left Gavin loathe to trust Brisson with the lives of his people, or even the authority to punish them. A part of him still wondered what information they lost by not keeping Samsin around a little longer.

  “I will not have you challenging my authority in front of others, Gavin,” Brisson said. Gavin noted with interest that, despite the clear irritation he’d seen earlier, Brisson’s voice was calm, collected, and dispassionate. He’d clearly had practice in containing his emotions.

  “I wouldn’t do that to you,” Gavin said. “I know what that is like. Nothing good comes from divided authority.”

  Brisson raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “I think I may disagree with you.”

  “What? That thing just now with Darryn? I wasn’t challenging your authority at all.”

  “Really? You countered my orders in front of my steward regarding punishment of that lawbreaker and then again when you said you’d granted him authority to violate the laws of this community.”

  “Ah, well, the problem with that argument is that you assume you have authority over my people. You don’t.” Gavin scratched at his chin, but met Brisson’s gaze with eyes as hard as he could imagine. “I do. While it is regrettable that your laws were violated and you feel affronted, you have no authority to either detain or punish any of my people.”

  Brisson slapped a hand down on the table hard enough to send several papers fluttering to the floor. Gavin did his best not to breathe in the dust the action also threw into the air and had to force down a sneeze.

  “We took you in on a kindness. You eat our food and live in homes we built. That makes you subject to our laws and rules. You have done nothing to earn your stay here! You’re more impudent and disrespectful than a child.”

  Gavin leaned forward. “We are grateful for your hospitality here, but you are not the host. Nikanor created this place and granted you leave to be here. Just as he saved you, he saved us and gave us leave to be here.” Brisson looked like he was about to argue, so Gavin bowled on, using a tactic that had been used on him more than once in his life. “But, you are right in that we have not yet earned our stay here. That is something I would like to rectify.”

  “Good,” Brisson interjected as soon as Gavin took a breath. “Shaw has today’s list of assignments—”

  “Yes, I’m sure he does,” Gavin interrupted, raising his voice ever so slightly. “But I’d rather discuss them with you directly. We are not woodworkers or smiths. The Rahuli are warriors. Some few of us have skills in other areas. Fighting, killing, protecting—that’s what we do.”

  “We have no need of warriors here,” Brisson said, leaning back in his chair. “We have need of those who contribute to the community.”

  “I’ve seen your warriors, Brisson. Cobb could take any of them apart without breaking a sweat and he’s in his sixth decade and walks with a cane. Besides, I know the Orinai patrols are out there still looking for us.”

  “Where did you hear that?” Brisson said.

  “I was in the medical building when the last patrol came in. I saw what happened.”

  Brisson cursed. “This is your fault. None of my people would be dying if you hadn’t brought the patrols this way by leaving a trail straight to us.”

  Gavin nodded, sensing an opening. “So let us atone for it. My people will run the patrols on foot and in the air. None of your people will have to protect us, but we can protect them. We will earn our keep that way.”

  Brisson pushed his chair back and got to his feet, walking over to one of the maps on the wall. Gavin let the silence stretch between them, collecting his own thoughts. Brisson clearly had more work than he could accomplish on his own. The task of maintaining the thousands of people who lived in this valley left Gavin feeling weary just to think about, let alone actually doing it. For a moment, he almost felt bad about how he’d treated the man. Almost.

  “I don’t trust you,” Brisson said, his voice faint, but firm. “I don’t know anything about you or your people outside of what legends dictate, and that is rarely the real truth.” Brisson turned and, though his expression was hard, Gavin could see the haggard look of a tired man standing there before him. “But I am also not a simpleton. What you say is true, my people are not warriors. We’ve had centuries as slaves beat the resistance and will to fight out of us. If I do not keep the people busy, they flounder, not knowing what to do.”

  Brisson’s mouth formed a thin line for a moment and one of the man’s hands came up to massage a shoulder absently before continuing.

  “You have the aevians and your mystics, which will serve the patrols well, but still, I do not trust you. You may have your patrols, but I will still want my own people to be a part of them. Tadeo, the man who found your man—Darryn, is his name, right—will be in charge of a third patrol that will answer to me. You will work together and coordinate your routes.”

  Gavin nodded. “That works for me.”

  “In exchange,” Brisson continued, “you will have some of your people assist with the other tasks of maintaining the community. We need assistance in the smithy and with the herds.”

  “That can be arranged, but I have a few conditions as well.”

  Brisson folded his arms and nodded to indicate he was listening.

  “First,” Gavin said, “we are our own peoples, with our own leadership structures. None of your people will attempt to stop or give orders to
my people and we will do the same in return.”

  Brisson nodded.

  “Second, I will order my people to follow all of your laws unless specifically instructed to do otherwise. With that, I will need to know what the laws are. I will send someone so we can all know what they are. You will have someone available to discuss that with whoever I send.”

  Again, Brisson nodded.

  “Third, I will require access to the supplies in order to provision the patrols and my people as a whole.”

  “I will have Shaw draft up a document giving you that authority. In exchange, however, I will require full updates from you on all your activities. You will keep me informed on a regular basis. If we cannot meet in person, you will send a runner. The boy Benji seems to enjoy your company. He will be assigned as your messenger.”

  Gavin nodded and got to his feet. The arrangement was simple, at best, but Gavin hoped it was a starting point, at the very least. He stuck out his hand. Brisson regarded it for a long moment before walking forward to grasp it in a hard, calloused grip.

  “On your honor, then,” Brisson said.

  “And on yours.”

  Brisson released Gavin’s hand and Gavin turned to leave. Just before he reached the door though, Gavin turned back to Brisson.

  “Just a piece of advice, Brisson,” Gavin said, noting that Brisson was already back in the chair and leafing through the stacks of paper on his desk. “No one man can do all this.” Gavin gestured about the room. “Not and keep his sanity. Perhaps you should look at getting some help other than just Shaw.”

  Brisson grunted but didn’t look up. Gavin shook his head, wondering what sort of a man Brisson would be if not weighted down with the stress of leading his people. Maybe Brisson wondered the same thing about him.

  Gavin gave a small shrug after a moment and left. It was time to lead his people.

  Part 3: Belief and Power

  Chapter 13: The Silence Within

  “Strength and Power are often thought to be the same. They are not. Consider a tree blown about by the wind. Power is the wind. Strength is the tree. Power has the capacity to move. Strength is the ability to resist.”