There were other cords, but some of them were to people like Kyros…I knew I should just find Zhanna, quickly. Maybe I could avoid running into Kyros tonight.
But no. Even as I spoke his name in my thoughts, I faced him. “You’re a hard woman to find,” Kyros said.
“I’m a shaman,” I said. “You’re not going to find me unless I’m willing to be found.”
“Right.” Kyros jerked his head. “Let’s get to it. The magia grows impatient. What do you have for me?”
“I can tell you how we freed Sophos’s slaves,” I said.
“Not quite what I was looking for, but I’ll take it.”
“I conspired with Jaran. Together, we persuaded Boradai to our side. She had a lover once—Alisher. To punish Boradai for inattention after a slave escaped, Sophos sold Alisher to someone in Elpisia. I slipped into Elpisia and found him, and helped him escape. The rest was Boradai. She knew we had Alisher and he still wanted to be with her. She drugged Sophos and his guests and guards, then she and the concubines slaughtered them like sleeping sheep. Boradai took the spell-chain. Sophos trusted her. But she knew that she was a slave, and she had no loyalty to him. None.”
“And Sophos’s head?”
“Jaran was the one who killed Sophos. He brought his head. As a gift, for me.”
“And for Lauria.”
“Your friend raped her. He swore not to and broke his vow.”
“And it just breaks your heart, doesn’t it?” Kyros chuckled mildly, but when I looked into his dead black eyes, I started shaking. “That a woman loyal to the Greeks would be humiliated that way. That Lauria would have had a taste of what you lived with.”
I opened my mouth but no words came out. Kyros gave me a kind smile that made my stomach twist like a wrung rag. I forced down my nausea, telling myself that he couldn’t harm me here. Although I hadn’t summoned it on purpose, I found a bow in my hands, the arrow nocked and ready. I loosed an arrow into Kyros’s heart. He vanished from the borderland without so much as a curse at me, and I wished I’d held off. This would wake Kyros, but it wouldn’t kill him any more than a violent dream would, and I hadn’t had a chance to make him promise not to hurt Lauria. I knew it didn’t really matter. Men like Kyros broke promises to slaves without a second thought.
I woke soaked in sweat, my stomach in knots, and lay awake until dawn.
Traveling with Janiya and Alibek was not like traveling with Lauria. Lauria had needed me for my knowledge of the steppe, since I knew where the wells were and she didn’t. She was the better rider, but I was a much better shot. She left me with the horses when she rescued Nika, but as the months passed, she accepted that we were equals, partners. Then she’d gone and apprenticed herself to the sorceress for a while, but she’d come to her senses. More or less.
Janiya certainly didn’t need me to help her navigate the steppe. Instead, I was along on the trip for my knowledge of the Greeks.
We avoided Daphnia, but stopped in a village down the road to buy more grain for the horses and more food for ourselves. Janiya paid in foreign silver. That would stand out, but it was better than trying to trade karenite. The farmer squinted at the coin, round with a square cut out from the center, then bit it, and finally shrugged and took it for the sacks of rice, lentils, and oats.
As we set out, we heard the rattle of approaching wagons and moved aside to let them pass. I’d expected merchants. It was soldiers. When I saw the banner showing Alexander’s helmet, I wished we’d moved on faster.
The first lines were on horseback. Foot soldiers followed. All were dusty from the road but well dressed and well equipped—not that I was an expert in judging such things. I was comparing them to Janiya’s sword sisterhood.
I pictured Janiya’s sword sisterhood facing these men. We had raided a Greek fort and defeated them soundly, but we’d taken them by surprise and fired their buildings. We had better horses and better archers, but…
But djinni’s mercies, there are so many of them.
They passed us by. A few men glanced in our direction, but no one spoke to us or bothered us. Janiya watched them go, her face very still.
“Let’s go,” she said.
During our fall journey, Lauria and I had watched people bringing in the last of the harvest. Now it was spring. Planting season. Janiya, Alibek, and I rode past farms of slaves planting crops in neat-furrowed rows, stooping to drop seeds into the wet ground. Men and women bent side by side. Watching them made my own back ache, and I rubbed the base of my neck, imagining the tickle of prickling sweat.
“Only the rivers’ return can free them all,” Alibek said.
It was an old saying, something I’d heard from my mother. I’d said it a few times myself, but now it irritated me. “How is that supposed to work, anyway?” I asked. “The rivers will come back, and…then what? The Sisterhood of Weavers will decide to free all Danibeki slaves?”
Alibek shrugged. “I’ve always figured that the point of the saying is that all our people will never be free. Only the rivers’ return can free them all. The rivers will never return, so…some of our people will never be free. Surely you’ve known slaves who wouldn’t take freedom even if it were handed to them.”
“I’ve freed slaves who turned away from the gift.”
“You freed others who should have. I met one who had nothing to say but ‘The food was better when I was a slave’ and ‘My bed at Sophos’s house was softer’ and ‘I’m tired, Sophos didn’t make me work as hard as I have to work here.’”
I hunched my shoulders. “That’s his problem.”
“Ha. It’s the Alashi’s problem.”
“Do you think that the only people who deserve to be free are the ones that free themselves?”
Alibek shrugged ruefully. “Well, I really like Uljas. But I also think some people are better off as slaves. It’s what they want. Or it’s what they deserve.”
“Has Uljas ever told you about Burkut?”
“A little bit. I was there when we buried him.”
“Well, no one but Lauria and Uljas would’ve freed Burkut. He didn’t want to be free. Uljas had to talk him into escaping. But Uljas believed in him.”
“And then he died on the trip, right? Sounds like Lauria and Uljas should have left him alone. Maybe he’d still be alive.”
I wasn’t sure how to explain what I was trying to say. I wanted to ask him who should decide who ought to be free, or why he ought to be the one to decide. I didn’t know which question to ask, so instead I rolled my eyes and urged my horse ahead a little bit so I didn’t have to talk to Alibek anymore.
Alibek caught up with me a few minutes later. “Burkut escaped once, anyway. It was Lauria who brought him back.”
“He wouldn’t have made it to the Alashi that time. He ran away without water. If Lauria hadn’t gone after him, he would’ve been dead.”
“And then he died after she freed him? Sounds like the gods wanted him dead. Free, but dead.”
I shrugged.
“I sort of remember Burkut, from when he was owned by Kyros. He was always sick. I figured he was just trying to get out of work.”
“I’d have figured the same thing.”
“But he wasn’t.”
“Well, unless you think he wasted away and died just to get out of the trouble of serving in a sword brotherhood—no.”
Alibek fell silent for a little while, to my relief. Then he said, “You know, you’re not at all what I expected.”
“What is that supposed to mean? You only met me once.”
He shook his head dismissively. “I was in a clan with some of your sword sisters. I heard stories about you all winter.”
I glanced at Janiya. “Who told stories about me?”
“Zhanna, mostly.”
“So what did she have you expecting?”
Alibek shrugged, to my annoyance, and said nothing.
“What stories did she tell you?”
“She said you were really good wit
h a bow.”
I opened my mouth to say that I was really good with a bow, then snapped it shut. My bow was tied to my saddle. I untied it, bent it against my horse’s withers to string it, placed an arrow against the string, and looked at Alibek challengingly.
He raised an eyebrow. “I see a rabbit over in the grass,” he said, and pointed.
We had the rabbit grilled over the coals that night. It was tough but still a welcome change from the lentils and rice. Alibek chewed his thoughtfully, picking the bones clean. “Good shot,” he said, as we laid out our blankets to sleep.
How do you think we should approach the farm?” Janiya asked the next morning. “Openly? Or should one of us sneak in and try to talk to Lycurgus?”
“I can show you where we camped, if you want to hide,” I said. “Lauria went in and pretended that she needed a job. Solon hired her. We don’t want to talk to Solon. We want Lycurgus, but that could be hard—Lycurgus was supposed to be in charge, but he was drunk all the time and Solon ran the place.” I thought it over. “If we go in openly, we definitely won’t be able to talk to Lycurgus without Solon knowing. If we sneak in, we can probably go talk to Lycurgus at night. One of us, anyway.” Janiya looked at me. “Oh, all right,” I said. “I could do it. At night. Though I didn’t see the farm when I was here with Lauria. I stayed with the horses.”
“Did Lauria describe the farm to you? Could you find your way around it?”
“She sort of described it. I could probably find my way around.”
“If they catch you, could you talk your way out?”
“I convinced the mine guards that I was a sorceress from the Younger Sisters.”
“That’s not going to be a good story to tell Solon. Didn’t you say he was loyal to the Weavers?”
“Last year he was. What are you going to do if I don’t think I can handle it? Are we going to ride up together and say we’re merchants who want to see the steward? Because if we do that, they’ll take us to Solon.”
“Hmm,” Janiya said, and fell silent. As we were mounting up she said, “I think you should go.”
After my months with Lauria, who left me behind whenever she could, it was nice to hear someone tell me she thought I should do something by myself. Until I started thinking about everything I could do wrong.
We made camp in the same clearing where I’d camped with Lauria and Uljas. No trace was left of that visit. We had hours to go before night. “How much of the karenite do you want to take with you?” Janiya asked.
“One stone of it should be enough to make my point,” I said. “I can leave the rest here in case they catch me and, uh, kill me.”
Janiya thought that over. “Take three,” she said. “Just in case you need more.” Her lip quirked a little. “But try to be a little less grim, Tamar, please. Didn’t you free Alisher? Didn’t you just tell me you convinced the mine guards you were a sorceress?”
“I always had to convince Lauria to let me do anything,” I mumbled.
“So you’re saying I need to act like I don’t trust you to saddle your own horse properly, so you can convince me you can do it?” Janiya clouted me on the shoulder. “I don’t think I can learn to lead that way, not this late in life. Go convince yourself. By sundown.”
Fortunately, there was plenty to do. We needed to groom the horses, feed them, and put up our tent. I tried to imagine that Lauria was here. If Lauria were here, she’d tell Janiya that she should be the one to go. After all, she knew both Lycurgus and the farm. I imagined trying to talk her out of it. If she were caught, they’d know her, and besides, Lycurgus thought she was a spy. He’d hardly trust her now. I should be the one to go in. I’d heard Lauria’s stories and knew the men I’d face as well as Lauria did, but they wouldn’t know me. I’d have the advantage…
“I should be the one to go,” I muttered out loud as I measured out grain for the horses. “I can do it.”
I set down their dinner and looked up to find Alibek smirking at me. He’d heard me talking to myself. My face went hot. I met his eyes and pretended I had been talking to him all along. “I can,” I said again.
“I believe you,” he said mildly.
I turned on my heel and stomped away to fetch water.
At sunset, I walked back to the road with three pieces of karenite in my pocket. It was a dark night. By the time I drew close to the farm, I needed my lantern just to see the road. At the edge of the fields, I shielded the lantern and sat for a while in the grass, listening to frogs and crickets, waiting for the lights of the farm to go dark. When I was certain everyone had gone to bed, I took my lantern, unshielded it enough to let out a tiny ray of light, and picked my way through the deep wagon ruts to the farm.
The buildings loomed dark and still. The windowless barracks held the slaves, no doubt, locked in securely for the night. Another long building probably housed the guards. The brand-new brick house was probably the kitchen, rebuilt after the fire. But Lycurgus. Where would I find Lycurgus?
One of the houses had a little marble floor out front. That had to be the steward’s house. The door was unlatched, so I shuttered my lantern and stepped inside.
I took a deep breath, first, sniffing for the smell of sour wine. Lycurgus was a drunk, and drunks smelled bad. But the air smelled fresh, like wood shavings and new-pressed cider. Upstairs, perhaps? I listened. Someone upstairs was snoring. Moving slowly, aware of every creak, I picked my way up the stairs.
There. The bedroom. Lauria said it was a mess, with dirty clothes scattered together with papers, dishes, dropped food, anything. I hesitated in the doorway and took a deep breath. Still no sour smell. I let out a tiny gleam of light from the lantern to take a quick look around.
The room was immaculate—the floor swept clean, the rugs free from dust, the table bare except for an open book and a lamp. I could still hear snoring from the bed. I swept the little ray of light closer. Was it Solon?
No. It was a woman, her black hair scattered across the pillow, a bare arm thrown out against the sheets.
“Good evening,” a voice said quietly in my ear. “Let’s go downstairs for a chat.”
I froze.
“Slowly and quietly,” the voice continued. “To the stairs, please. I’d rather not wake Selene.” Something very narrow and sharp poked me in the back. My mouth was dry. I shuffled my feet toward the stairs and trudged down, one step at a time, my lantern still swinging from my hand.
Downstairs, the man behind me took my lantern and swung the shield all the way open. I blinked in the sudden light. “My office,” he said, and pointed. Hopelessly, I went on in. He set the lantern on a shelf, checked me briefly and impersonally for weapons—I had a knife, which he took—and sat me down in a chair, studying me in the pool of light.
He was Greek, and young. Solon? If it was, how was I going to get out of this? Solon was a kind master and an honest man, but he wasn’t stupid. And he was not in league with the Younger Sisters—at least he hadn’t been last fall.
“Solon?” I asked. A flicker in his eyes told me that I knew who I faced, at least.
“Who sent you here?” he asked.
“No one.” I swallowed hard.
“What were you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” I said.
“In the dark? With a knife?”
“The knife was sheathed. I didn’t come here to kill you.” He nodded at that. “I wanted to talk to you. Privately. Secretly. I had to approach you at night. I don’t know who the woman is—I didn’t expect to find you with anyone.”
“Go on,” he said, when I paused.
When I was a slave, and new to Sophos’s household, Jaran had warned me that if I got into trouble, Sophos would let me try to talk my way out of it, just to see how much worse I made it for myself. I bit my lip now and tried to smile. I needed to pick a lie, a simple lie, and tell it well. “Do you remember Lauria?” I asked.
“Who is Lauria?”
“She was here last fall. Xanthe. She c
alled herself Xanthe.”
“Ah. Yes. She lied her way into my confidence and stole a slave.”
“It’s because of her that you’re the steward now, and not the assistant steward.”
Another flicker, and a faint smile. Yes.
“Lauria is in trouble. Kyros has her.”
“He does? Good.”
“I came here to ask for your help,” I said doggedly. “Actually, I came here to try to buy your help.” I pulled the three pieces of karenite out of my pocket—he hadn’t taken it out when he’d checked me for weapons—and scattered it across the desk. “It’s karenite. Soul-stone. It’s valuable.”
He knew its worth. I could tell from the way he suddenly sat straighter in his chair, swallowed, and pulled his gaze away from the stones. “Help me,” I said. “These are for you, if you do.”
Solon laughed. “You’re in no position to take them back.”
“I have more.”
“Where?”
“You’ll never find it.”
“How much?”
“How much do you want in exchange for Lauria? You return Lauria to me, I can bring you a great deal more.”
“It can’t be done,” Solon said. “Or at least, I can’t do it for you.”
“Who can?”
“I don’t even know where he has her.”
“Penelopeia.”
There was a pause. The Younger Sisters might be able to get her out, and for a moment I thought Solon would tell me that. Then he checked himself and shook his head. “I can’t help you.”
I stood up, trying hard to act as if I were a customer walking out of a shop, not a prisoner walking away from a guard. “What happened to Lycurgus?” I asked.
“The incidents last fall were quite a strain. He really wasn’t in good health, and…” Solon turned his palms up. “Sad, but not surprising.”
I wondered who had killed him—Solon? One of the sorceresses? He would have been an easy man to poison. Or maybe he really had just died.
I was almost at the door when Solon spoke. “I can’t keep these,” he said.
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