‘I’m not dancing for their amusement.’
‘They’ll get bored after we’ve been doing it for a while, maybe you can join us then?’
He shook his head.
The guards, while not knowing the words, clearly understood the meaning of this exchange, and started pointing and jeering at Mink. Guilt filled Daphne as she realised what she had done. Mink glanced up at her, hate in his eyes. She needed to remember that he was one of her officers, and it was her duty to look out for him, not abandon him to the braying laughter of the enemy soldiers. She had to be careful, otherwise what he had been saying about them might become true.
‘You and me, sergeant,’ she said, turning towards Weir, ‘but it’s time to calm this lot down. It was good to show them what we can do, but we don’t want to become a source for their entertainment. Let’s do some boring old thrust and parry.’
‘Right you are, Captain,’ he said, and fell back into his guard stance. Chane strode over to Agang, still grinning over her victory. Several of the men, including Echtang and Gadang, let their glances linger on her.
Daphne faced Weir, and they raised their swords.
‘Captain,’ Agang said, half amused, ‘you intend to fight while injured?’
‘I’ve still got one good arm,’ she replied. ‘And this won’t be the same as before, we’re just going to do some slow practice.’
He nodded, watching her closely.
Weir thrust out with his blade, and she deftly parried. She did the same, a controlled lunge, keeping her balance, while he blocked.
They danced back and forth, thrust and counter-thrust, elegantly synchronising their movements with each other. The guards watched but lost interest as the pair went through their sword drills. After a few minutes, Agang sent them back to the walls, where they resumed their guard duty.
Agang stayed and watched, seeming more interested in the training ground exercises than by the earlier full-blooded fight.
Following a good twenty minute session, Daphne raised her right arm and bowed out. Chane took up her position, and she and Weir started going through the same routines, a little faster than Daphne had managed.
She went to the table and picked up a cup of water. Her right arm and shoulder were aching, and would feel worse in the coming days, but it felt good to work up a sweat. She drank the contents of the cup in a single draught.
‘Very interesting,’ Agang said, approaching her. ‘These moves, you learn them in training?’
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Lots of practice.’
He laughed. ‘If only my warriors had the patience.’
‘You seem to have yours well trained,’ she replied, ‘compared to the others we saw.’
He snorted. ‘B’Dang’s mob? Believe me, they’re worse than most, but you’re correct, my soldiers are better trained than any other Sanang force. They could always do with more training though. Especially in sword work. We’re still new to metal weapons, and I know my warriors would greatly improve, if they had better trainers.’
Daphne looked at him, an eyebrow raised.
‘Is that the real reason you want us here?’
‘I have many reasons,’ he replied. ‘This one however, has only just occurred to me, now that I’ve seen you practice. But I can see that these two in particular,’ he pointed at Chane and Weir, ‘could be very useful. A few sessions with my weapons masters to show them the routines, and then we could have an entire sword company learning the moves.’
‘Wait,’ she said. ‘We’re getting a little ahead of ourselves. Discussing Holdings religion and politics, I am just about comfortable with, but training the enemy in one of the skills in which we are superior? We’d be hanged as traitors by our own side, and justifiably so.’
He glowered for a moment, then nodded.
‘Later this evening,’ he said, ‘after you have finished your exercise, the guards will escort you out to the balcony. I wish to speak to you further on this.’
‘As you wish,’ she replied. She raised her wooden sword, and returned to her practice.
Agang had lit several torches, but the balcony was shrouded in shadow and darkness, and the sky was pitch. Furs and extra cushions had been laid out on the low, wide bench, and Agang was reclining on a long divan. His upper body was thick and muscular, and his shoulders bigger than those on any Holdings man she had seen. His arms, like all of the Sanang, were proportionately longer than theirs, and a single hand could comfortably encompass her whole head. He wasn’t handsome from a Holdings point of view. Maybe Sanang women, wherever they were, went for his type. He had a powerful presence, and was as intelligent as anyone she had met. He had long black hair, and the rough pale skin on his beardless face shone in the torchlight.
‘Smoke?’ he said, as she sat.
She had not taken any drugs since Badolecht had healed her arm, and wondered whether that was because she didn’t need any, or because none had been offered to her. She knew that Weir had somehow got his hands on some, but she hadn’t asked him how.
‘What is it?’
‘A blend,’ he replied, ‘half dreamweed, half keenweed.’
‘Keenweed?’
‘Keeps you alert, stops you falling asleep,’ he said. ‘Ethan said it was the closest thing we had to your tobacco, only much stronger.’
‘I’ll try a little.’
Agang poured some drinks, and lit a couple of sticks. He passed one to her.
‘Why do you think I brought you here?’ he asked.
She lit her stick, and inhaled. Her mind cleared, and she felt nicely relaxed. He wants me to open up to him, she told herself. She had to remember that he was not her friend.
‘Information, primarily,’ she said. ‘You learned a lot from Ethan, but from the sounds of it he didn’t know much about government or politics.’
‘That is true,’ he said, laughing, ‘though he did know an awful lot about the sugar trade.’
‘Fascinating, I’m sure, but not much use to you.’
‘Indeed.’ He took a drink. ‘When I was planning the assault upon your outpost, I was hoping to capture a few officers, even though I knew it would anger the other chiefs, not to mention the soldiers.’
‘Why?’
‘You need to ask?’ he said, anger in his voice. ‘You, who invaded my country, committed atrocity after atrocity, and turned miles of forest into a desert wasteland? Do you not comprehend the rage within the Sanang people? You say you want to go outside. If I let you out there without an armed guard, you’d be ripped to shreds within minutes.’
She sat still during his outburst, remembering the slaughter of her own soldiers by Agang and B’Dang’s men.
‘Then why are we alive? Why are we here?’
‘Because,’ he said, calming, ‘despite all you have done, Ethan taught me the inherent goodness of your people, just as, at heart, the Sanang are good people too. You do not see this, I know. To you we are violent savages, but we are only what these violent, savage times have made us. Give us peace, give us unity, and the goodness within will rise.’
‘You want us to help you?’ she asked. ‘Why should we help you? We will not betray our nation.’
‘Ethan was able to help me, without becoming a traitor.’
‘Maybe,’ she replied, ‘but his skills weren’t of a military nature. Look, I’m not unsympathetic to your cause of peace and harmony, and we’ll continue to teach you about our law and religion, but we have a line that we won’t cross.’
There was a long silence.
‘Good enough for the present,’ he said eventually. ‘Now, I know that I haven’t been very open with you about my own people. But I want you to trust me and so, if you have any questions about Sanang history or culture, please ask.’
She leaned forward, wondering at this new tact.
‘First,’ she said, ‘how did you know that my company hadn’t withdrawn from the fort when you attacked? And how did you know the others had?’
He chuck
led, shaking his head. ‘Questions about history and culture only, please.’
She sighed.
‘My next question, then,’ she said. ‘Where are the women? Why haven’t I seen any? Why are there none in the homestead?’
‘There are fifteen females living in this compound,’ he replied, ‘as well as you and Chane.’
‘There are?’ she said, astonished. ‘Where?’
He pointed down to his left. ‘That building is the women’s enclosure.’
‘The what? Enclosure?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Where they live.’
‘A prison?’
He laughed. ‘Of course not. It’s their home.’
‘Then why do they never come outside?’
‘They must remain within, for their own safety. It’s their place, their domain. Within the enclosure the women rule, as we men do out here in public life.’
‘Why?’
‘Sanang women know nothing of the world; they cannot lead armies, plan campaigns, or make difficult decisions.’
‘I’m not surprised, if they’re locked up their whole lives.’
‘Their minds are too fragile,’ he explained. ‘Raising the children of the household is their duty, their calling; it’s where they are the experts. Inside the enclosure they have everything they need, food, drink, smoke, fancy clothes.’
‘Everything except the freedom to go outside.’
‘As I said, that’s for their own protection. Any female out in the forest unescorted is liable to be kidnapped by one band of warriors or another. And frankly, if she’s out there unescorted, she deserves it.’
Daphne gave him a cold stare.
‘And what about us?’ she said at last. ‘I am a captain in the Holdings cavalry, and the rather capable Lieutenant Chane is my officer. Do we not somewhat disprove this nonsense?’
‘You are foreign,’ he said, waving his hand. ‘I already knew from Ethan that women made up a large proportion of your army, but to most in Sanang that just proves the weakness of your menfolk. After seeing you and Chane with a sword today, and having fought your female soldiers at the outpost, we now know differently. However, Sanang women are not the same as you. To hear them talk, all foolish giggles and gossip.’
‘You infantilise them, then complain when they act like children,’ she said. ‘Is it maybe a difference that I’ve had about twelve years of education?’
He sat in silence for a while, drinking and preparing a couple of fresh smoke sticks. He passed her one.
‘I concede there may be something to that,’ he said, ‘but first must come peace. For Sanang women to have more freedom, there must be an end to the bands of murderers that plague the forests. This is the task I face. Social change will have to wait.’
She sat smoking, surprised that he had backed down even a little.
‘Now I have a question,’ he said, smiling again. ‘You say you are of the cavalry, but where are your horses? Do such mythical creatures even exist?’
She looked up. ‘My father’s land holds one hundred and sixty thousand heads of the finest horses in the world. I grew up beside them every day of my youth. I personally own nine: two battle horses, three work ponies, one for general out and about, one stud, and two for travel. I trained in the queen’s cavalry for two years, and then,’ she sighed, ‘at the first sign of war, we had to leave our horses at the border, because they’re no good in the forest.’
Agang poured himself another drink, laughing gently.
‘One more question, then,’ he said.
She leaned forward. ‘Who were the soulwitches?’
His laughter stopped, and he sat back, smoking.
Daphne bit her lip.
‘I should have guessed you’d ask about them,’ he said, ‘and forbade it. However, I did not, and so I will keep my word.’ He took a long, slow drink.
‘The seulitch,’ he went on, ‘were a powerful group of Sanang. Like the hedgewitches, as you name them, only stronger. Hedgewitches can control living things, persuade them to grow or to heal, or in some rare cases, to die. The soulwitches had those same powers, and more. They used them to rule over the Sanang for hundreds of years. They were harsh rulers, but the Sanang lived in peace. The soulwitches had a government, law, and an army of servants to carry out their orders. Farms were organised, and townships built, and roads and bridges, but the people lived in fear of them, especially in the last decades of their rule.
‘They became arrogant, and greedy, and cruel, and because no one could stand up to them, they began to behave as if they could do anything. They broke their own laws and took what they wanted, and crushed any who opposed them. It was during this dark time that it became unsafe for girls to go out into the forest without protection. Packs of their servants would scour the countryside, looking for young females. They would enter villages and demand two or three be surrendered to them, or they would burn the place to the ground, and take the girls anyway.’
Daphne shuddered. ‘What did they want with them?’
‘For their harems, mainly, though the common people still mutter dark words about bloody rituals and sacrifice.’
‘What happened to the soulwitches’ rule?’
‘After a civil war, they were overthrown, and slaughtered. But the war had been painful, and gone on for so long, and so many had died, that the whole country just fell apart. The greatest tragedy is that for the majority of people in Sanang, the way we live now is normal. The violence, the lawlessness, the fear, taking vengeance over the slightest insult, the cheapness of life…’ His words tailed off, and he fell into silence, his head bowed.
Daphne watched him, saying nothing.
‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘It saddens me to dwell upon the condition of my wounded land. I know that the Holdings people look at us and see savages, cruel and barbaric. I look at my own people, and I see the same. Someone must take this shattered nation, hold it close to his heart, and carefully put all the fragile pieces back together, until we are united and whole, and we can walk out into this world with our heads high.’
‘And you’re taking that first step?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I control over a hundred square miles of forest, thirteen settlements, dozens of farms and orchards, and twelve hundred warriors, including three hundred swords. Another three thousand warriors swear fealty to me as allies, and I sit among the councils of the high chiefs. It is a first step.
‘But things are changing,’ he went on, raising his cup. ‘Soon everyone in Sanang will know it was I who struck the first blow at the Holdings invaders. It was I who dared, and I who was victorious.’
His eyes were lit with a deep fire. ‘At the end of summer,’ he said, ‘the chiefs will come to me.’
Chapter 9
The Turn
Beechwoods, Sanang – 21st Day, Last Third Summer 503
The four Holdings prisoners at Beechwoods passed the rest of the summer in peace. Agang and his nephews visited them on most days, despite the chief having squeezed every last drop of information out of them that Daphne thought possible. The Sanang seemed to enjoy their talks and, to keep the sessions going, they had persuaded the prisoners to learn Sanangka. Chane had shown the most eagerness to pick it up, and often tried out what she learned on the guards, much to their amusement. At the other end of the scale, Mink had refused to attend these sessions. Daphne knew he set himself on the contrary path to whatever she suggested, but in some ways she was grateful for his presence. His barbed comments about treason and going over to the enemy put pause in their minds, no matter how often they might deny it.
With twelve days until the start of autumn, the nephews had informed them that the other chiefs were on their way to Beechwoods to meet with Agang. At last the summer campaign against the Holdings was coming to an end, and the tribal warriors were returning home. Agang had remained tight-lipped about any news from the front but, in their youthful eagerness, his nephews had not been able to resist dropping a few hints. Th
e war was progressing well for the Sanang, that much was clear, but the lack of details left the prisoners on edge.
Two days later, Agang paid them a visit in the early evening, as they were about to begin sword practice. It was raining, so they remained in the common room, and had flasks of hot coffee pulled up from the kitchens below.
‘I have a small gift,’ he said, throwing a large package onto the table. ‘I have come into possession of a share of captured supplies, and I noticed this among the other goods, and thought of you.’
Chane opened it, and let out a small squeal. ‘Tobacco,’ she grinned.
Weir walked over and held a tightly bound bundle to his nose.
‘Stringer Holding’s Golden Blend,’ he stated authoritatively. ‘Not shit at all.’
Agang laughed and sat, pouring himself a coffee.
Only Mink stayed motionless in his chair, wrapped in his blankets, not having bothered to get dressed. He glowered at them. Daphne, Chane and Weir prepared a few cigarettes, and Daphne offered one to Agang.
‘Thank you.’ He tried a puff, and nodded.
Daphne sat back into her chair’s deep cushions, and put her feet up on a stool. She smoked the cigarette, her first in over two and a half thirds, and drank the coffee, for which she had developed a taste. Just needs some sugar, she thought, and this morning would be as perfect as it got.
She couldn’t remember when her hopes of going home had faded to the point where she barely ever considered the possibility, but the uncertainty over her future brought her no particular fear. Instead, she felt freed from responsibility, the injury to her arm having provided her with a valid reason for why she hadn’t tried to escape. It was continuing to heal, but as Badolecht Nang had predicted, her elbow remained fused at a crooked angle. Through tiring and painful daily practise, the grip in her misshapen hand had improved to the point where she could pick small objects up, and hold onto them, and she was able to dress herself without assistance. Chane and Weir had been helpful and supportive throughout, and she felt closer to them than anyone except her family.
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