“As you may have heard, I was in something of a hurry to get back this afternoon. That’s because, out patrolling today, I spotted this.” He began removing the bones from the bag at his feet and laid them out before Karna and the others. No sense delaying the inevitable.
“It’s a chinkara. What about it?” Urvaksha looked less than impressed.
“I spotted this on the side of a dune from across a wide, flat area, perhaps a half-hour’s walk from the edge of my patrol. Look. See how the ribs are broken, and the vertebrae? If you handle the bones, you’ll note grooves and cuts in them.”
Karna examined the skull, while the other men passed around the long rib bones. To a man they fingered the break before discovering the parallel grooves.
“You may also find deeper crosswise gashes. The last time I saw bones marked in this way was in Q’uungerab, not long before it was overrun. They have been this way, but we haven’t yet attracted their attention.”
“So we have run out of time for discussion, is what I hear you saying.” Karna still contemplated the skull he held, running his fingers over the strange groove marks between its unbroken antlers.
“Your ears tell you true, Karna.”
“Then I will hear arguments on all sides once more as to why we should not simply move to our winter pasture.”
There was a great deal of noise made, but for the most part it had been agreed on a week ago that their first step should be to move pastures and leave the desert’s edge.
“You have heard my only cautions with that plan many times, Elder.” First and foremost, he had no idea how he would spot the creatures in grassland.
“I have, and they are duly noted. However, on this night I have heard nothing to convince me not to order the move. We shall simply have to learn to track their movements in other ways. Production of spears and javelins will continue up to the end. Shahin, choose out several other men to watch the desert. You will all go in pairs.”
“As you wish.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Chandi had lost track of the days since they had left the road and struck out for this unknown temple ruin in the middle of the desert. Even tracking the number of days between watering holes or bands of people hadn’t seemed to help. Some time ago they had weathered a sandstorm with nothing more than their tents, and Ravi had begun explaining the ritual from the one book they’d brought. After, when she’d offered to carry the book to facilitate further practice, he’d snapped at her. They thought they were well outside the reach of civilization. Thus it was that when they heard the tell-tale buzz of a large encampment her confusion was tinged with curiosity, while Ravi’s brow knit in consternation.
“That sounds like an awfully large group for this deep in the desert.”
“It is. Wait here with the camels; I’ll be back.”
It was less than half a fist later when Ravi came racing back over the dune’s crest. “We can trade here. Stick close to me and keep your eyes down. You’ll be safest if they think you’re my slave.”
“Your slave?”
“It’s a kalabazaar. Be small and don’t let anyone come between us.”
Chandi wasn’t sure if she should be intrigued or terrified.
The town looked like the poorer districts of some of the cities she’d visited. The buildings were one- and two-story cubes of sand brick with narrow black holes for windows and doors alike. A cluster of date palms marked the oasis at the center of the settlement.
“Ravi?” They were descending the dune towards the unwalled edge of the town. “Isn’t it strange there’d be a kalabazaar all the way out here?”
“Yes. We may be off course. I’ll be verifying that while we restock. Now remember to act cowed.”
Despite the town’s ramshackle appearance its streets rivaled those of Q’uungerab for liveliness. She kept her head down and her scarf pulled over her face as best she could. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that someone was offering to sell them something out of every doorway they passed – and sometimes in between. Some were selling normal goods – street foods, bolts of cloth, pottery, jewelry and other baubles – but they were never in front of doors. Most spoke vaguely of ‘making deals’ and ‘satisfied customers.’ Ravi ignored them all, leading their herd of camels to the front of a dilapidated building much like all the others except for a great deal more noise inside.
“Wait here. Scream if anyone tries anything with you or the camels.”
She nodded.
“Good girl.”
Good… girl? Am I a pet or a youngling now? Chandi kept her eyes open, darting from side to side to peer around the edges of her scarf while she kept her head bent. She breathed a sigh when Ravi reappeared and nodded with an air of inattention.
“Bring the camels around, then come to the common room. And remember what I said about screaming.”
“Yes.” She kept her voice low and breathy, and wished it was entirely an act. Even now her skin crawled with the certainty of eyes watching her as she sat alone in the saddle. She lifted her head to glance about just enough to see the stable gate and heeled Rohana forward, taking the reins of Ravi’s mount as she went.
The camels had just enough room to pass through the gate single-file. On the other side a gap-toothed boy about her age led the riderless camels back to the stable. She remained at the gate to make sure all the animals made it inside. When they were all accounted for, she rode Rohana across the small yard and let the ragged-looking boy cush her mount.
“Th-thank you.”
“You’d best get inside now; I heard him say he was waitin’ on ya.” He scratched absently at his arm.
“Yes.” She ducked her head and kept it lowered as she half-jogged to the only door she saw. This door also appeared to be uncovered despite the stable yard and all the odors that came with it.
When she stepped through the doorway three things hit her all at once: the smells of alcohol and smoke and sweat, drowning out the smell of dung from behind; the thick tapestries draped and tied about the walls to cover the openings at need; and the din common to busy alehouses in all cities. She did not immediately see Ravi. He must be here somewhere. She started to walk towards the entrance on the street, thinking he might be there, and without thinking dodged and weaved through the throng with the expertise of the Chèin’ii. She kept hearing a sound repeated in the crowd, but it was meaningless. It kept getting louder, and finally it clicked.
“Chandi!”
She lifted her head to look around at the faces in the crowd.
“Chandi. I’m over here.” It was Ravi, with flat eyes and a thin-lipped set to his mouth. She changed direction and moved to join him with the same grace she had used to get as far as she had.
“Sorry.”
“Just pay attention. This is no place to be daydreaming.”
She nodded.
“Now. I’ve paid for a room for us for the night, with a large enough tip we shouldn’t have to worry about light fingers on the staff.” He was very careful to keep his voice low but not whisper. Surely he didn’t often do business in towns like these? “They have a porter bringing up the necessary packs. The others will be locked up in the stable yard shed. There will be a pallet on the floor and a bed; hard to say which will be the more desirable until we go up there. We’ll wait on the porter a few minutes longer.”
Chandi nodded from time to time as he spoke and always kept her eyes turned down. He wanted her to play the slave girl, she could play the slave girl. For a little while, anyway.
“You didn’t run into any trouble outside?”
She shook her head. “The stable boy was very helpful.” She, too, took care to pitch her voice to the hum of conversation in the room.
“Good. My coin was well-spent, then. You’re not hungry, are you?”
She wrinkled her nose before she shook her head. Even at its most confining the caravan had never smelled like this.
“All right. I’ve told them you’re in traini
ng to be my secretary. It should ward off the worst of the insinuations.”
“Th- thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Ravi looked around the room and sighed loudly. “Come on, let’s go up. If he’s not done by now he’s up to something he shouldn’t be.” His volume seemed unnaturally loud, but it was only his normal pitch. Ravi led her up a narrow staircase to the second floor and pulled out a small ivory key to unlock their door.
The room was more or less what could be expected. There was a couch of sorts – not much more than four posts holding up a slat with a pallet spread on it – for one of them to sleep on, and another pallet in a corner near the door. Both of them looked reasonably clean and very hard. Their packs were piled in the center of the room. Chandi saw the saddle bags they kept close, as well as the pair of trunks that held their clothing and a few other sundries. He pulled the door closed behind them with a solid thunk.
“Go ahead and take the bed, Chandi. I’ll sleep near the door.”
Chandi went over to the pile of their belongings and moved her saddlebag over toward the couch. “You seem to know an awful lot about the way these towns work.”
“Unfortunately.” Ravi drew the word out with a sound of disgust. “In my travels it has sometimes been necessary to share a watering hole with these…” He looked like he’d just bitten into something sour. “Surely your caravan was similar?”
“Mm, sometimes, but we always camped separately from the dens.”
“I don’t travel with many people. Never have. With a small group, or alone, you’re actually less likely to be robbed in the town than camping outside it.”
“I see.” It made sense; without sufficient guards, camping outside a black market town would be asking them to rob you and steal your children. You’d be an easy target, and no one had to claim you were doing business. Come to think of it, that might be why some of the uncles always went over, too. Better by far to be doing business with someone. Even thieves should have that much honor.
“Unfortunately, it is going to take us at least all of tomorrow to resupply and figure out just where we are, and there’s not a lot of time left this afternoon. Best if we take tonight to rest a little. I don’t know about you, but I could do with some time out of the saddle.”
“Absolutely.” Chandi bit her lower lip. There’s a question. Well, maybe two. “Ravi? Why your secretary?”
“If I just told them you were my favorite, what would they assume?”
“That you’re some kind of pervert.”
“Exactly. Same as if I told them the truth about you being a dancer. But if you’re a favorite because you’re intelligent rather than pretty, and I’m training you to be a secretary, then it makes sense not just for you to be in the same room but for you to accompany me while we do business. And I won’t let you out of my sight any more than I have to while we’re here.”
Chandi blinked. That was… rather forceful. “If it’s that dangerous here, I should have a knife. Do we have one in the packs?”
“A kn- do you even know how to use one of those?”
She looked at Ravi like he had grown wings. Sometimes she was amazed how much common sense of the Chèin’ii never occurred to city folk. “Enough to defend myself. Caravans get attacked, too, and sometimes the cities are more dangerous.” Of course I know how to use a knife! The hard part was keeping track of the other guy and his friends.
“I’ll… see what I can find.”
“Also, since I’m supposed to be your servant or slave or whatever, how should I address you?”
He sighed. “Right. I suppose if you’re speaking to others it should be ‘Master Ravi,’ much as I hate it. Please don’t do more than ‘sir’ me, though.”
“All right.” She perched on the edge of the couch, hoping it wasn’t too bug-infested.
“Since we have a few hours before whatever passes for dinner here is served, let’s have a lesson.”
* * *
The next morning was already hazy and hot at dawn, and Ravi had them down in the common room as the sun crested the rooftops. They were among the very first for breakfast – a spicy fried grain mash that left Chandi’s mouth feeling greasy and a cup of watery kafe – and out the door for the day’s business. He had not found a suitable knife for her in their packs, so he promised they would get one. He seemed to worry about her a great deal, like a fond old Uncle with too much time on his hands. She knew the reason, or at least the core of it. If he thought he could make right whatever had gone wrong with a second chance, well, sometimes people were strange like that.
They left the camels in the stables for a well-deserved rest and ventured into the streets on foot. She had expected the settlement to be just waking up. But, from what she could see around the edges of her scarf, the place might never be fully asleep.
She had wrapped herself in the loose pleats of the belemen in hopes that she would not be recognized as Chèin’ii. A makeshift ledger, pen and ink – really just a few pieces of paper tied to a board they happened to have in one of the trunks – rounded out the disguise. Keep your head down in the streets, Ravi had warned her as they were leaving their room, and keep up. There’s no telling what could happen out there. So she kept her head bent and watched his heels, and sometimes she had to half-trot to keep up. She tried to keep close; keeping his feet in sight was easy now, but once the streets became crowded it could be a problem.
She hoped they wouldn’t. Looking down as she was, it was impossible to track the twists and turns Ravi led them through. She nearly bumped into him twice. After the second time she hurried a half-pace closer.
“Sir, if it is permissible for me to look up, I am less likely to get lost.”
“Very well.” He glanced down at her and sighed. “A shame I can’t have you call me ‘sir’ and make you cover your face.”
She almost couldn’t hear that last, his voice was pitched so low.
“Keep your wits about you.”
“Of course, sir.” She smiled a little. She couldn’t see his face at the moment, but she was certain he winced.
He did not stop again until they reached a blacksmith whose shop opened on the street. Chandi stood a few paces back and dutifully wrote on the page, although her “notes” had nothing to do with what Ravi was about. She felt a pinch in the back of her neck like a biting fly and lifted the hand that held the pen to swat at it. There was blood on her fingertips when she brought them down, but a warm feeling was spreading from the site of the pinch and now she could think of nothing more pleasing than the drumbeat ringing in her ears. Is that my heartbeat? Ha. It must be. Her vision began to swim and a giggle tried to well up from her throat. Her legs felt watery. Surely this would be a good place to lie down. She tried to fold her legs under herself to sit gracefully, like a good Chèin’ii would, but the cloudiness turned to blackness and instead she crumpled.
* * *
My head hurts. She had not even opened her eyes, but she knew that much. Her arms were pinned with metal bands in awkward wings to cold stone behind her. She was sitting on more cold stone, which somehow had the audacity to feel damp, and her feet were splayed out to the sides behind her. Not ladylike at all. She lifted her eyelids a little. The room was dark. Dim, rather. She opened her eyes the rest of the way and saw that her clothes, at least, were untouched. What… happened? No. She knew what happened. She had been drugged from a distance, while Ravi was talking with the blacksmith, and kidnapped. There was only one thing they could intend to do with a girl like her. She’d heard the stories about how they broke pretty girls, turning them into whores or harem jewels for rich reprobates. Her stomach clenched and her thighs tensed at the thought, even as her breath began to race. She would have none of it.
Chandi peered up under her eyebrows as she tried to control her breath. The same Uncles who had taught her how to use a knife had taught her a few things about getting away, too. The cell she was in had a solid door. Okay: that gave her a little room to operate,
at least. The first thing to deal with were those manacles, but they looked tight. Squeezing her thumbs in, she determined that they were tight. They must hold a lot of children. Filthy slavers. She had to get out of the shackles, though, if she wanted to escape. She pulled her right hand in as small as she could and began to chafe it loose, and bit her tongue against the pain. Finally, after a great deal of tugging and pulling and chafing, her hand came free of the manacle. She lost a good bit of skin, and the joints of her thumb felt strange. They would probably hurt later. She cradled her hand in her lap while her shoulder relaxed out of its unnatural position.
No time to waste. Chandi scooted around so she faced the other band and used her free hand to force the one still trapped smaller than it would go on its own. Her left hand was easier that way, but it still emerged raw from the effort. She rubbed at her wrists in turn and stood. Now. A way out, and then to rejoin Ravi… Poor Ravi. He wanted to keep me safe so badly.
Her feet felt heavy, but she didn’t hear clanking chains and they weren’t restrained. There was just enough light in the cell to see thick copper bands clamped around her ankles, but no chain to bind them. They underestimated me. She grinned, and walked on the balls of bare feet over to where the light filtered in through the lone barred slot in the door.
She had to stand on her toes and lean on the door to see out. There were others much the same as hers, but not a person in sight. The door hadn’t budged under her weight, nor was there a handle or latch she could reach. Maybe they aren’t entirely stupid. Well. If she couldn’t do this the easy way, she would just find another.
A quick inventory of the room revealed a small slot of a window that was out of reach even if she jumped, a tin tray with a bit of food and a cup of water placed just out of reach of where she had been bound, as well as three more sets of manacles. The food was almost certainly drugged. Without really thinking about it she put her hand to the back of her neck and felt a tiny ridge where the prick had scabbed over. Chandi moved back over to the door and tried to rattle it. With some force she managed to budge the left edge, meaning the hinges would be on the right. Those, too, were on the other side of the door. Not that she knew what she would have used to break them if she could have reached. She looked again at the bars in the door. Bronze. In wood. I can work with that. I think.
Advent of Ruin (The Qaehl Cycle Book 1) Page 22
