He could see the bowman now, standing fifty paces away admiring his handiwork. By the look of his planed face and pale skin he was another tribesman, but he was dressed like a man of Ashanesland in green and blue checked trousers and shirt below a leather jerkin. Krish remained still as he approached. The newcomer hadn’t lowered his bow. There was an arrow nocked and it was pointed at Krish’s heart.
When the tribesman reached the gnarled tree, his eyes scanned Krish and seemed to dismiss him. He released the tension in the bowstring and slipped the arrow back into his quiver. He grinned wolfishly as he moved to the older man and unsheathed a metal knife to cut the arrow from his back.
‘Thank you,’ Krish said. ‘You saved my life.’
‘Did I? Then you’re welcome.’ The newcomer looked at him briefly, then back down at his gory work. ‘You can pay me if you want. I’m short of gold and metal would be good.’ He was wobbling a little as he crouched by the corpse. A gust of wind blew past him and Krish caught the strong scent of alcohol.
‘I don’t have any gold or metal,’ Krish said. ‘I don’t have anything. I’m a stranger here.’
The man had finished extracting the arrow. He braced his elbows on his knees as he studied Krish in turn. ‘A stranger? I’d never have guessed. Well, you can help yourself to that one’s knife.’ He nodded over at the other body. ‘You know what, take whatever he’s got except his sword. I need that.’
Krish didn’t like the idea of touching the corpse he’d helped to kill, but he’d be crazy to let anything useful in this endless wilderness go to waste. He knelt beside the young man, gingerly pulling aside his embroidered shirt to see what lay beneath. There was a metal knife far better than any Krish had ever seen in a sheath at his belt, and Krish took both. There was also a money pouch. He looked up to see what he should do with it.
‘Keep it,’ his rescuer said.
‘Thank you. I’m Krishanjit. Just Krish, if you want.’
He didn’t think the other man would answer as he stood and stretched. But after he’d pulled out a flask from beneath his jerkin and taken a long swallow, he said, ‘Dae Hyo.’
‘If you didn’t come to help me,’ Krish said, ‘then why did you kill these men?’
Dae Hyo seemed to think about that for a while. Then he spat out a slimy gob that landed on the dead man’s cheek and dribbled into his greying hair. ‘Because this is Dae land, and they aren’t Dae.’
‘But I’m not Dae either.’
Krish regretted it as soon as he said it. Dae Hyo scowled at him and his hand tightened on the haft of his axe. ‘I took you for a knife woman. Are you a knife woman?’
‘No.’
‘Want me to correct my mistake?’
Krish backed away a step. ‘No!’
Dae Hyo laughed and slapped him on the back. ‘You’ve got a woman’s mercy in you, I’ll grant you that. I would have let this one bleed to death slowly after what they tried to do to you.’ He kicked the young man’s corpse. ‘Tribeless scum, poaching on other men’s grass.’
The two mounts had bolted when the killing began, but they’d eased their way back until they were just beyond the tree, warily eyeing the standing men and the dead ones.
Dae Hyo approached the nearest, the black stallion. He stooped to pick some grass and then held it on his outstretched hand, humming softly. The horse snuffled the grass and Dae Hyo swung himself into the saddle while it was still chewing, grasping the mane and laughing as the creature tried to buck him off. He hummed at it again and it settled down, only prancing sideways a little in irritation.
‘I tell you what, you can take the other,’ Dae Hyo said to Krish, waving at the handsome brown gelding. He looked pleased with himself for his generosity and Krish smiled his thanks, though he’d never ridden a horse in his life. It was larger and much more intimidating than the mule he’d been forced to abandon in the mountains when it couldn’t climb down the cliff.
‘Well,’ Dae Hyo said, ‘try not to get killed.’ Then he tightened his knees on the black stallion’s sides, shook its reins and took off towards the horizon at a trot.
‘Wait!’ Krish shouted, but Dae Hyo either didn’t hear or chose to ignore him.
The only person he’d spoken to in a month – the only man who’d actually helped him – was disappearing into the distance. An army had to start somewhere, didn’t it? Even with someone as unfriendly as Dae Hyo. Krish considered running after him, but the horse was already a hundred paces away and he knew he’d never catch it.
He eyed the brown gelding instead, which was cropping the grass around the corpse of the man who’d once ridden it. At least it was smaller than the stallion, and the crooked white diamond on its forehead gave its face a cheerful cast. Krish stooped to pluck some grass and held it out on his palm towards the animal, trying to imitate Dae Hyo’s low humming.
The horse raised its head, blinked its soft eyes, then returned to the grass at its feet. Krish dropped his own handful but took another step nearer, still humming. The gelding remained placidly eating, clearly not afraid of him, and why should it be? Only the rabbits had reason to fear him. Another pace and he was close enough to rest a hand against the animal’s withers. The skin beneath his hand shuddered a little and then stilled. Up close, he could see the size of the horse’s teeth and the heavy muscles in its legs and flanks.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Right.’ There was nothing left for it but to mount. Dae Hyo had made it seem easy, but then Dae Hyo had shot two men at fifty paces while falling-down drunk. Krish looked around for a stone to boost himself, but of course there was nothing but earth and grass for miles in every direction. There was only the single, stunted tree.
He took the horse’s reins in his hand and gently tugged until it raised its head. It blinked when its eyes met Krish’s, as if their oddness surprised the gelding as much as it did most people. Krish stroked the horse’s cheek and pulled on the reins, leading it towards the tree.
The tree was harder to climb than Krish had expected, but at least it had rained yesterday; the ground was soft and the grass would probably stop him breaking anything when the gelding bucked him off. He slid his legs forward until both hung from one side of the branch and then dropped.
The horse raised its head to peer back over its shoulder for a minute before dropping it again to the grass. Krish laughed. ‘Not that different from a donkey, are you?’ He gently kicked his legs against its sides. It whickered and began to walk in the same direction as Dae Hyo, who was now little more than a speck on the horizon.
By the time Krish caught up with the tribesman, the day was nearly over and the clouds were smeared with pink and orange. Dae Hyo must have heard him coming, but he didn’t look round as Krish’s gelding trotted up beside the taller stallion. The two animals breathed into each other’s noses and then walked companionably side by side.
‘I don’t know anyone here. I don’t even know where here is,’ Krish said.
Dae Hyo grunted.
‘But I can cook and catch rabbits and four eyes are better than two, aren’t they?’
The other man didn’t bother to respond to that at all. He was sitting low in his saddle, his back slouched and his head nodding towards his chest. His eyes, which had seemed a little hazy before, were now visibly bloodshot. Krish wondered if he’d found more drink in the dead man’s saddlebags.
They were heading almost directly towards the setting sun. When Krish looked behind him he saw their long shadows stretching over the grass, giants where they were mere men. He wondered if Dae Hyo would ride through the night. He’d become accustomed to the gelding’s rolling gait by now, but his buttocks felt like one large bruise and the muscles in his thighs were so tight he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk once he dismounted. His chest was tightening too, fatigue letting the illness regain its hold on his body.
After his third hacking cough, Dae Hyo turned to look at him. ‘Are you dying, boy?’
Krish shook his head. ‘I’d like to rest,
though.’
‘Nothing’s stopping you.’
He didn’t complain again and they rode on as the sun touched and then sank beneath the horizon. The sharp sounds of day faded and the murmurings of twilight replaced them. Finally, when Krish thought they really were going to travel all night, Dae Hyo pulled his stallion to a stop. He slid from the saddle with the same grace with which he’d mounted and bent to tie a hobble round the animal’s front legs.
Krish groaned as he dropped from his own saddle. His legs buckled and he sprawled on the ground, not sure he was capable of rising. His calves were knotted with cramp and it was very tempting to close his eyes and fall asleep where he lay. He looked at the stars above him and the sliver of moon in their midst.
Dae Hyo paid him no mind, somehow finding enough wood to build a fire and a few rocks to contain it. He whistled tunefully while he scavenged.
When Krish felt his eyelids drooping, he made himself sit up. ‘Can I help?’
Dae Hyo grunted again, which Krish took to mean no. There wasn’t much he could do, anyway. It was too dark to lay his snares and he didn’t have Dae Hyo’s skill with camp-making. He had some food though, a few strips of rabbit he’d smoked over the fire. He pulled them from his pack and passed all but one of them to Dae Hyo. He stared at the meat as if Krish had handed him one of his own turds.
‘It’s rabbit,’ Krish said. ‘It’s good.’ He took a bite of his own and chewed, trying to look like he was enjoying the tough stuff.
Dae Hyo watched him until he swallowed and then took a careful bite of the meat. When he’d finished the first mouthful he nodded and gobbled the rest, polishing it off before Krish had finished his single strip. He wiped his hands clean on his trousers, took two deep gulps from his hip flask and then wrapped a grubby blanket round himself, turned his back on the fire and closed his eyes. A few seconds later he was snoring.
Krish pulled his own blanket from his pack and then lay on the opposite side of the fire. The wind sweeping from the mountains was icy, the air smelled of horseshit and wild mint and he could hear the screams of hunting cats from somewhere in the night. Even so, exhaustion quickly overcame his unease and he drifted into sleep, wondering if Dae Hyo would be there when he woke.
21
They were lost. Nethmi knew it and In Su must too, though he denied it every time she said the words. The walls of the ravine were sheer on either side, but not solid. In Su had made several attempts to climb them, and each time had fallen to the ground in an avalanche of loose sand. Only a thin strip of sky showed above, a cheerful and cloudless blue. It forked ahead as they came to yet another junction. Left, right, it made no difference – the maze seemed endless.
They’d drunk the last of their water that morning. There was none here. There was nothing but the sand.
The storm had brought them to this place. It seemed right to think of it that way. It was as if the storm had wanted to strand them here, or as if the Rune Waste itself had sent out its sands on the wind to draw them in. They’d survived the initial, monstrous blast huddled together on the ground. The sand had nearly covered them but when the winds had eased they’d been able to pull themselves clear of it.
The air had remained choked with dust, though, and the sky hidden. The ground was yellow in every direction and the wagon utterly gone. Nethmi hoped the horse had taken Jinn and Vordanna to safety. Its animal panic might have been wiser than their human hesitancy. She and In Su had no choice then but to move on. They’d both feared the storm would return and headed off in the direction they guessed was north.
They’d been deceived. With sand dunes everywhere, they’d barely noticed as the sloping mounds on either side grew taller until they were sheer cliffs. One ravine had led to another and then another, and by the time the sky had finally cleared it was too late. They’d been heading west, not north, and they’d entered the true Rune Waste.
Perhaps it was what she deserved. She’d done her best not to think about her killing of Thilak in the weeks since, but she couldn’t escape the fact of it. And she’d begun to think of In Su … She’d begun to have thoughts no widow should, especially about a mountain savage. When they’d huddled together against the storm she’d been more conscious of his lean arms round her than of the howling of the wind. In Su told her the tribes believed the Rune Waste judged those who entered it. She thought she might believe it too.
The day wore on as they kept walking but travelled nowhere. At midday, the sun finally showed itself in the narrow strip of sky. The heat of it beat down at her and she knew she needed to rest. The sand had worked its way into her throat and with no water to wash it away it was a constant torment.
‘Stop,’ she croaked.
In Su turned to look at her. His gentle face was scored with scratch marks from his fall and she fought the urge to soothe them with her touch. ‘We must go on, lady. We must get out.’
She shook her head. ‘There is no way out, and we’ll die quicker if we walk in the sun. Here –’ she began to dig out a hollow in the soft sand of the walls ‘– this will shelter us.’
He bowed his head and moved to dig beside her. He never argued with her for long. When they finished digging and huddled together in the cool hollow, she looked at him and wondered.
He didn’t catch her eye – he seldom did – but she often felt his regard on her. And now he was holding himself stiffly against her, a light flush in his cheeks. She was intensely aware of his breathing, the way it shifted his body against hers with every inhalation. Was he drawn to her in the same way she was drawn to him? Jinn had seemed to think he was. If she asked him, he might lie with her. If there was no hope left, where was the harm in doing what she wanted? She wondered if she might enjoy it.
Not now, though. She was sticky with sweat and itchy from the sand that had stuck to it. In Su was no better. He’d shed his furs when they descended the mountains, but his wool jerkin and trousers were still far too hot and his hair hung greasy around his face. She stared at it, noticing for the first time that its colour was changing, blond roots showing through the black.
‘You dye your hair,’ she said, reaching out to rub one of the locks between her fingers. ‘I didn’t know the tribes did that.’
He held very still as she touched him, only breathing out when she drew her hand back. ‘Not all tribes. Just Seonu. It is shameful for the pale hair to show. I’m sorry.’
‘Just the Seonu? I thought all the tribes were the same.’
‘No, lady, the tribes are different. That is why we are tribes and not one people like the Ashane.’
‘But you all came here together, didn’t you? I read it in … in Lord Thilak’s library.’
‘Yes, true. We came because the tribes made war. We were not free in the old land, in Mazdan. Strangers ruled us, but they could not stop the war. The emperor, he ordered peace and even his word wasn’t followed.’ He trailed into silence, looking suddenly bashful. ‘You want to know this, lady?’
She smiled at him. ‘I do. I’m in the land of the tribes now. I need to understand them. And besides, it passes the time.’
He smiled tentatively back. ‘Good, then. So our story is, the emperor killed all the men who made war – every man of the tribe and every boy who’d lived more than five years. Then he gave the women of the fourteen tribes fourteen ships. He told them they must leave Mazdan in exile and taught them how to sail across the wide sea. But the emperor was clever. He taught the women of each tribe a different secret: one how to fish in the salt sea, one how to sail with the wind, one how to find their way by the stars. He made the tribes need each other so they must cross the ocean together. When we came to this land, the women chose to keep their secrets. So the men need the women and the women need each other and there is no war.’
‘And what are the Seonu’s secrets? Or do only the women know?’
‘No. The Maeng, the Dae, the Four Together, they all say women are wiser than men, so only women can know. The Seonu say women are w
iser with men and both can know. But for me, not yet. The other tribes say a boy is a man in his thirteenth summer. The Seonu say no: twenty-eight is a good number. At twenty-eight a man is a man, a woman a woman and both are told the tribe’s secrets. Until then we are children in the elders’ eyes.’
His voice was soothing and she let her eyes drift shut, resting her head against the soft sand. ‘I suppose it makes sense that the Seonu are quite different from the other tribes. You were separated from them for a long time, weren’t you?’
‘Yes. When we first came here, our ships landed on the desert coast. The mages of Mirror Town told us the way to the grasslands, but on the journey the Geun died and the Seonu were lost. We were alone many years before we saw the other tribes again.’
‘And where were you all those years? Not in Ashanesland or the Moon Forest.’ There was a long silence and she fumbled at his side until she could take his hand, twining her fingers with his. ‘I understand: that’s one of the secrets you’re too young to know. Doesn’t it bother you, to live in unnecessary ignorance?’
When there was another silence she opened one eye and cocked her head to look at him. His face was pained, as if struggling with a thought he wasn’t sure he should articulate.
‘It doesn’t matter what you say to me,’ she told him. ‘We’re both going to die here, aren’t we?’
‘No. Jinn said you would live. He said you will meet Yron’s heir.’
‘But Jinn’s a liar – he told us so himself. He tricked you into helping him.’
In Su looked away. ‘Perhaps he spoke truth and didn’t know it.’
She let her eyes drift shut again, comforted by the warmth of In Su’s body, the clasp of his hand in hers. She didn’t realise she’d fallen asleep until she snapped awake again with In Su clutching her shoulder. When she opened her mouth to speak he pressed a finger against her lips. ‘Listen,’ he whispered.
At first all she could hear was the shush of wind through sand. Then, slowly, she realised what it was In Su had heard: a soft musical twitter running in counterpoint to the wind. It was the sound of birds, and it was near. It wasn’t much to offer hope, but those without took table scraps where they could.
Smiler's Fair: Book I of The Hollow Gods Page 25
