Joel Rosenberg - [D'Shai 01] - D'Shai

by Joel Rosenberg - [D'Shai 01]

  All the pieces of the puzzle were in place, spread out before anyone with eyes to see. Toshtai smiled at me as he beckoned to me, the same way he had smiled when I had assembled the squares in the box.

  “It is a pity that the murder will never be solved, isn’t it?” he asked, his eyes glowing, never leaving the flashing knives. “And that poor Felkoi, have disgraced himself as a warrior, will have to be stripped of his nobility and banished. Felkoi Khuzud will leave with the troupe tomorrow.”

  “Never to return, Lord?” Sharp-eyed Lord Orazhi asked with a smile that said he, too, knew the answer. You can’t be a competent ruler and not have some feel for this sort of puzzle.

  “Oh, perhaps,” Lord Toshtai said, as though considering the matter idly, “perhaps never to return without a troupe about him, eh?”

  Typical D’Shaian hypocrisy. He wouldn’t have hesitated a moment to have had clumsy Kami Khuzud executed for murder, but it was so much simpler to turn his face from the truth than it would be to forgo the annual visit of a kazuh acrobat such as Felkoi the Acrobat, Felkoi Khuzud.

  Lord Orazhi chuckled. “A great pity,” he said, pouring a flask of Crimson Tears, and handing it to me with a slight, perhaps mocking bow of the head. “Don’t you think so, Eldest Son, err, Who Isn’t An Acrobat?”

  “A great pity, Lord,” I said. I curled my fingers about the flask, warming them.

  “Felkoi Khuzud will be leaving with the troupe tomorrow,” Toshtai said, again. “It would please me, perhaps more than a little,” he said, his voice taking on a formal lilt, “if you would remain behind, Discoverer-of-Truths.” His livery lips pursed for a moment. “I will have use for one such as you.”

  There was only one answer. “I am at your service, Lord. Perhaps as Eldest Son Discoverer-of-Truths.”

  Whatever I am, Lord Toshtai, I am still son of Gray Khuzud, brother to Enki Duzun, and I will not forget that.

  “Kami Daniray Shiragen? Hmm ...” He thought it over for a long moment. “That is too long: Kami Dan’Shir,” he said. The fat man gestured at my flask. “Drink, Kami Dan’Shir.”

  * * *

  18

  Many Farewells

  THE WHILE BEFORE bedtime was our time, it was in some ways a quiet time as we all sat on Madame Rupon’s porch, looking out at the town, and at the flickering lights in the castle above the town, and at the stars above.

  All of us: the Eresthais, Large Egda, Fhilt, Sala, Evrem, Gray Khuzud, and even Felkoi.

  A last time, for me. A time of little talk, if not as quiet as usual. The musicians were practicing loud and hard tonight; I could hear and feel the lead silverhorn player slip in and out of kazuh. We sat alone, under the flickering lanterns.

  High above, the stars watched us, cold and uncaring.

  Evrem was the first to leave; he gave a quick nod of goodbye, then headed off to have a few moments alone with his snakes before bedtime.

  “There’s a last time for everything,” Sala said. “You’ll take care of yourself?” She stretched and yawned.

  I nodded. Actually, I was expecting NaRee to do much of the taking care. A Dan’Shir clearly wasn’t a peasant; I was going to be at least a middle-class, most likely a bourgeois, possibly even a noble. Let Ezren Smith close his door to Lord Kami Dan’Shir. Once.

  “Better go to bed, Sala,” I said. “You’ve got to be on the road tomorrow.”

  She kissed me on the cheek, and then left.

  Fhilt snickered. “I don’t know why we’re getting all soft and sniffy about it. We’ll see you next time the troupe is here, eh?” He gripped my hand for a moment, then turned to leave.

  “I don’t understand,” Large Egda rumbled. “If you don’t know why, Fhilt,” he asked, as he rose to accompany Fhilt, “then why are tears running down your face?”

  “Egda, you are an idiot,” Fhilt said, as the two of them walked away.

  I clasped hands briefly with Eno and with Josei, then turned to Felkoi.

  He opened his mouth, then closed it, then shrugged and turned away. I sympathized. We really didn’t have anything to say to each other.

  Gray Khuzud and I were left alone. I thought that we’d talk, if it had turned out that way, but there was nothing to say.

  Finally, I rose. “I’d better go, Father. There’s somebody I have to see.”

  He was silent for a long time.

  “Be well, my son,” Gray Khuzud said. My father was never much for wasted words.

  Gray Khuzud gripped my shoulder for a moment, and then he was gone.

  * * *

  INTERLUDE:

  Way of the Ruler

  THE GREAT HALL was empty, as it always was when the hour of the bear gave way to the lion.

  Lord Toshtai sat alone, the room lit, to the extent it was lit, only by a single flickering candle.

  He was tired, and he had overeaten yet again, and had swallowed too much of that deceptively smooth Crimson Tears; it had his head swimming. He really ought to keep better control of his appetite. That was his one unconsidered indulgence. Everything else he did, was—had to be—calculated cautiously, each decision weighed with care.

  He knew that he really ought to be getting to bed, but these moments at the end of the day were precious to him, too dear to abandon, to toss away into the Great Nothing.

  An apple lay on the table at his elbow. Unblemished and red, polished to a high gloss, its crispy sweetness waiting for him.

  Well, nobody was watching; he drew his miniature dress sword—more of a knife, really—and quartered it.

  It had been a useful day, all things considered, Toshtai decided, as he picked up the first quarter of the apple. He cut out the sliver of core and slipped the quarter into his mouth.

  Orazhi had been impressed, once again, with Toshtai’s insight, and that boded well for their delicate alliance, and perhaps for the future of Arefai and all of Den Oroshtai as well. The loss of Felkoi as a warrior and armorer left Den Oroshtai weaker by an almost infinitesimal trifle, but that was well outweighed by the gain in the strength of the alliance.

  Everything must balance, after all.

  He ate the next quarter quite quickly.

  Best of all, it seemed that Kami Khuzud—no, Kami Dan’Shir—had discovered a new form of kazuh. That was a rarity.

  Hmmm ... would it breed true? Could others be trained in it?

  Toshtai would have to find out, although that might be tricky. It was not the simple matter it was with a stud horse. Humans were much harder creatures to master. He could ask Narantir; but no, he wouldn’t be able to trust the answer. Wizards were suspicious of anything they didn’t control, and they clearly didn’t control zuhrir, and kazuh.

  He balanced his knife in the palm of his hand. The balances would be difficult for that. Best to let things proceed at their own pace.

  But, in the interim, it would be pleasant to have someone about who could solve puzzles even better than Toshtai himself could.

  That was a rare treat, indeed. A great treat, but a deserved treat, also indeed.

  He cored another quarter, and ate it slowly. A small puzzle: What was the ranking of a Dan’Shir? The simple solution would be to make the boy a noble. Lord Kami Dan’Shir, carrying a sword—perhaps trained in the sword by Dun Lidjun himself—would not have to worry about losing his head for an idle comment. More importantly, Toshtai would not have to worry about losing his Dan’Shir. Hmmm ...

  No, he didn’t like the feel of that. That would make everything too easy in some ways, too difficult in others.

  Arguably, a Dan’Shir could be a bourgeois position, instead of a middle-class one. That would be best, all things considered, all balances taken into account.

  Yes. Kami Dan’Shir would be a bourgeois. That could work out nicely.

  Perhaps that could be changed, later, if convenient, but there was no need to rush into making the boy a noble. He could spread his seed far enough, wide enough, without that, and for now, a burgeoning friendship with Arefai would provide e
nough protection. Toshtai could weave another web of protection about Kami Dan’Shir later, if necessary.

  Lord Toshtai tossed the last quarter into his mouth, carefully cleaning his knife on his tunic before putting it back in its sheath.

  Besides, if Toshtai did want to make Kami Dan’Shir a noble, that would be best done at a time when the boy would be happy. Being raised to nobility should be a pristinely pleasant occasion. That didn’t describe Kami Dan’Shir’s immediate future.

  Poor Kami Dan’Shir was going to be unhappy for the first while. He didn’t see what was coming, how things would balance out. Kami Dan’Shir was only a discoverer of truth, and would miss some of the symmetries that Toshtai couldn’t help but see.

  Because an eye for symmetry was merely a form of balance. And balance, of course ...

  Toshtai sat in the great hall, laughing, long and hard.

  * * *

  19

  One Last Farewell

  THE LAST WORDS NaRee said to me, as we sat in her father’s garden under the uncaring, unblinking stars, were, of course:

  “But you know that I need to see the world, Kami Khuzud, or Kami Dan’Shir, or whoever you are. And you are staying here.

  “Which is why I’m leaving with Felkoi.”

  * * *

  * * *

  TK scanned and proofed. (v1.0) (html) NOV 2011.