Canticle poi-2

by Ken Scholes

  Isaak turned and nodded. “I am well, Nebios. My chassis and bellows are in need of cleaning.”

  Neb returned his attention to the other mechoservitor. “You tell me I am early,” he said. “How do you know this?”

  The mechoservitor blinked. “Because we are not ready, Nebios ben Hebda. Neither are you.”

  Neb thought about this. He was aware of his bladder suddenly feeling full, of his feet suddenly feeling like flying him back, away from the confrontation he walked to. “You tell me I am early but you do not tell me I am unauthorized.”

  The metal man whistled and bleated as a shudder rattled its armor-plated body. “You are authorized.”

  Neb wasn’t certain where he found the words-perhaps from some corner of a forgotten dream-but he spoke now. And he spoke loud and clear: “If I am authorized, I abjure you, mechoservitor, to escort me to Sanctorum Lux.”

  The mouth flap opened and closed again. Its head turned slowly. “Your companions are unauthorized.”

  Neb swallowed. He thought about the Waste Guide behind him and Isaak before him. “Then my companions shall not accompany me.”

  The metal man nodded and then moved with blurring speed. Its foot shot out, catching the knee joint in Isaak’s damaged leg and driving it back until Neb heard a plain, metallic crunch. As Isaak toppled over to the ground, the metal man leapt past Neb into the dark.

  Neb turned and shouted. “No!”

  He heard Renard gasping, heard the sound of scrambling and then a cracking sound-the sound of a bone breaking as Renard cried out.

  Then, before he could open his mouth again, he felt metal hands scooping him up to toss him roughly across square steel shoulders. He felt a hand at his throat, applying gentle but firm pressure. “Remain still and do not struggle, Nebios Homeseeker, and I will bear you well and swiftly.”

  The hand at his throat squeezed, and the night grew foggy as spiderwebs of light traced the corners of his vision. He was dimly aware of Isaak clawing and crawling toward them, his leg now useless and bent back behind him. He heard Renard panting in pain in the deeper shadows of the bridge.

  And last, he was aware of the tick and grind of machinery within the metal man who bore him as they lurched across the ground to climb the high hills beyond the Younger God’s bridge. With his head pressed to the metal shoulder he wondered what manner of heart the Androfrancines had given their machines.

  More pressure yet from the metal hand, and Neb felt his grip slide as unconsciousness took him and carried him into a gray and lonely place.

  Chapter 19

  Jin Li Tam

  Melting snow made for muddy grass, and Jin Li Tam stepped carefully as she held Jakob to her breast. With the small blanket covering her exposed skin, she didn’t feel much of the cold, and she hoped it was the same for her son. Still, they wouldn’t be here long. The tents were heated, but she’d suddenly craved the cool air and her feet had needed pacing ground.

  No, she realized. It was more than a craving.

  She’d needed it; the tent had pressed in upon her after the birder left, and she’d needed in that moment to be outside and close to her son. Colder air and open space to find focus and stop the world from spinning.

  They had arrived just a few hours before, and already the tents were in place and the smells of the cooking meat and wood smoke were in the air. Scout patrols now made their wide-ranging circles, and the various companies of the Wandering Army took up their places on the perimeter.

  Soon, she would have to give Jakob over to Lynnae and ride to parley with Pylos and Turam. She had exchanged birds with Meirov herself just that morning but had not recognized the name of the general who led Turam’s battalion. The first skirmishes had gone badly for both armies; their attackers-small in number they later found-had defied all reason and had pressed on through their ranks until eventually they had fallen.

  But those iron blades cut deep, and that wind of blood had howled until they fell and the astounded officers from the two neighboring nations took stock of their dead.

  Now, reinforcements had been summoned for a further push north and were perhaps half a week away.

  All of this was worrisome. But now she’d word from the Gate that Aedric and his company had ridden into the Wastes in search of Neb and Isaak. The greatest weapon in the world was lost to them.

  And on the heels of that bird, the next: Rudolfo was sailing around the horn, suddenly convinced by an old Androfrancine that a cure for Jakob was more likely found in this so-called Sanctorum Lux than in the seemingly impossible task of finding her father’s fleet.

  But the last one-delivered just this morning-was the one that finally staggered her and made the canvas walls of her tent press in upon her, sending her into the winter air with her son clutched close. Rae Li Tam’s coded message had found her-updating Jin Li Tam on all that had transpired for them at sea so far and calling for aid from the Ninefold Forest Houses if such a thing were possible. Even now a response-with pledged support of undefined specificity-winged its way back with Jin Li Tam’s query buried into it: My son is sick from the birth powders; can you cure him?

  It should have been relief, she thought. But in that moment, hope changed. She didn’t know how to describe it. It became different inside her-a gnawing thing. And something that kept fear as its constant companion alongside of it.

  “Lady Tam?”

  The soft voice startled her and she looked up. A young woman in mismatched armor and sad eyes stood before her, her tangled brown hair capped with a helm that was too large and a massive silver battle-axe in her muddy hands. Her face was streaked with ash and dirt. Two Gypsy Scouts accompanied her.

  Jin Li Tam blinked. She’s changed in such a short time. “Winters?”

  Winters curtsied. “It is good to see you.”

  The young girl’s eyes were the most different. Beyond the sadness, there was something else hidden there. Fear? Uncertainty? Yes, Jin Li Tam realized, it was those things but also something deeper. Something that smelled familiar and disturbing to her.

  Betrayal. A rotten and deadly weed grew up among her own people and threatened them all.

  Jin Li Tam inclined her head. “It is good to see you as well. Have you learned anything new?”

  The girl shook her head. “My army scours the Marshlands now, turning every stone to find the root of this sudden evil. And you?”

  Jin Li Tam shook her head. “Nothing you don’t already know. Reinforcements are en route. The first several attacks have taken heavy tolls on the rangers particularly. These skirmishers fight with no sense of self-preservation; they fight until they fall.”

  Winters sighed, and her voice was quiet. “It’s the blood magicks. They know before they take them that it will cost them their lives.”

  Neither of them had seen these blood-magicked scouts in action, but both had seen the field of flesh and bone they’d mowed. Jin Li Tam felt a stab of loss, remembering the night that Winters had been forced to take her throne. And now, she stood fresh on the heels of burying the Androfrancine dead from the Summer Papal Palace, her lands now steeling for invasion. New to her throne, and already threatened from within and without.

  Jakob stopped suckling, and she adjusted her shirt and coat, shifting the baby to her shoulder to pat the air gently from him. “I’ve not told Meirov that I am bringing you,” Jin Li Tam said. “I think it is better that way. You will be under my protection as a part of Forest kin-clave.”

  Winters swallowed and nodded. She shifted on her feet, and Jin read indecision in her body. She wishes to ask something but is uncertain how.

  Jin watched a blush creep into the girl’s face even as her brown eyes darted away. “Is there. ” She paused. “Is there any word of Neb?” Her eyes returned, meeting Jin’s for a moment, and the blush rose even further on Winters’s cheeks. “I know he’s missing and that Aedric seeks him.”

  Of course. The boy. Jin Li Tam tried to force a smile but knew she failed. “I’ve an entire
company seeking him. I know he was well enough when he left Aedric in pursuit of Isaak and the other mechoservitor.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. These were hard times for love; bitter soil for it to grow in. And these weeks with Rudolfo off seeking a cure for Jakob-long stretches with no word from her new husband-she knew the sharp teeth of worry that chewed this young woman. I should say something to comfort her. “I know that if he could, Neb would get word to you. The birds don’t seem to hold their magicks there. We’re doing our best to find them.”

  “He’s no longer even in my dreams,” Winters said, looking away. The voice was so nearly a whisper, and there was a profound sadness in it.

  “Maybe your dreams are affected by distance,” she offered, but doubted it would help.

  Winters shrugged but said nothing, and Jin Li Tam was uncertain what to add. She wasn’t very familiar with the Marsh Queen’s dreaming beyond what everyone knew about the War Sermons and the Book of Dreaming Kings. She knew even less of these supposed shared dreams she had with the boy, though she’d known there was a bond between the two of them from their time at Windwir. She’d certainly heard talk of the young romance even before she’d known of the girl’s true identity. But Jin’s attention over the last several months had been preoccupied with preparing the manor-and her own soul-for the small package of struggling life she now held. And the work of sorting what her life had been and what it was becoming. If those weren’t enough, the circumstances of the Firstborn Feast and Jakob’s troubled birth had also done their part to keep her focus elsewhere.

  Still, she certainly understood the power of dreams. Her own had turned dark and violent that night-and had stayed that way. Even this morning, she’d clawed her way to wakefulness with her last memory still vivid before her closed eyes: a dark bird gobbling eyes in a field of faces that she knew too well.

  She realized that the girl still waited for some further response. What do I tell her? There was more strength and certainty in her voice than she had hoped for when she finally found the words she needed. “We will find him, Winters, and we will bring him home safe.”

  The girl inclined her head. “Thank you, Lady Tam.”

  Jin Li Tam returned the bow, then looked to the face of her son, swaddled in the thick woolen blanket that had once held Rudolfo as his parents rode with him from Forest House to Forest House, presenting the younger twin along with his older brother, Isaak, to the Forest Gypsies they would someday serve. He was asleep now, his lips bubbling contently as his breath whispered in and out between them.

  She saw the interest on Winters’s face and turned slightly so that the girl could see the infant more clearly.

  “He’s so small,” the Marsh Queen said.

  “Yes.” She paused. “There is little time before we must leave; would you like to hold him?”

  The girl blanched, her face moving between fear and delight. “I don’t think I can. I’m-”

  Jin clucked her tongue. “Certainly you can. Follow me.”

  She led the way back around the tent, leaving the scouts at the flap as she and Winters entered.

  Lynnae and the River Woman sat at a table together beneath a guttering lantern measuring out fresh scout magicks carefully into the small, string-tied satchels. They looked up briefly, but went quickly back to their work. In the corner, a small stove warmed the large space and a pail of wash-water along with it. Jin motioned to a narrow cot near the fire. “Sit,” she said. “And scrub your hands. There’s soap there, too.”

  Winters propped the axe against the nearby table. Jin watched her washing up, wondering absently exactly how the Marshers managed with their own young in the midst of such filth. Unlike most in the Named Lands, she did not for a second believe that they were still caught up in the Age of Laughing Madness, left over from their dark master’s last and most desolating spell. She knew they were driven by a different insanity: the slightly more tolerable mystic variety.

  When the girl’s hands were clean, Jin leaned over and shifted Jakob over into her arms. She tried not to wrinkle her nose, making a mental note to have Lynnae clean the blanket later.

  Winters held him, awkwardness visible in every aspect of her posture. “He’s so small,” she said again. But this time, Jin noted the light growing in her eyes and the smile that pulled at her mouth.

  “Have you never held a baby?”

  Winters shook her head, her eyes never leaving Jakob’s face. “I’ve seen plenty of them. But I grew up alone. My friends were mostly books and dreams. And Tertius, my tutor.”

  Jin wasn’t surprised. The sheer size of her own family insured her own exposure to the young, but she could see how, isolated and kept apart as Winters had been, a girl could reach the age of her own fertility without having seen up close and personally what her own body was capable of making with a little help. She suddenly grinned and felt a bit of wickedness rise up within her. “Perhaps I should send another company east to find young Nebios and fetch him back here for you,” she said, “so that you might make one of your own.”

  For a moment-a brief moment-Winters became a girl again, blushing and giggling. “I don’t think I would know what to do if-”

  “Trust me, Queen Winteria,” Jin Li Tam said, still smiling, “you’d figure it out soon enough.”

  And in a brief moment of her own, Jin Li Tam felt the weight of the New World slide off her shoulders as she and the Queen of the Marshfolk laughed until even Lynnae and the River Woman had no choice left but to join them.

  When that moment passed, she strapped on her knives, checked her armor and passed Jakob over to his nursemaid’s care. Then, still flushed from their laughter, she and Winters called for their horses and set out in the direction that duty called them to.

  Winters

  A light snow fell as they rode silently south to parley. Above them, the sun hung veiled in gray behind the overcast sky. Around them, they heard the sounds of a forest leaning toward spring and the steady footfalls of their horses.

  Winters rode beside Jin Li Tam, occasionally glancing over at her. The Gypsy Queen wore a coat of silver scales and a pair of scout knives with worn handles. Her long red hair was pulled back into a braid, crowned with a circlet that matched her armor. She rode proud and tall in the saddle. There was stern beauty in the steel of her posture.

  I am nothing like her, Winters thought. What had Rudolfo called her? Formidable? And yet, not so long ago, she’d seen beneath the calm mask Jin Li Tam wore. When she’d first approached the Gypsy Queen, Winters had seen anguish and doubt upon the woman’s face. There was a desperation in the way she had clutched her child even in the midst of her deliberate pacing. But she’d also watched as Jin took that anguish and doubt and stored it away as soon as her work called upon her to do so. It was a mastery of self that Winters could only hope to someday attain.

  And the baby. When she’d taken that small, warm bundle into her arms, had seen those tiny fingers and that tiny mouth, it had sparked something within her. Not the ribald, baser instinct that Jin had teased her about, but something else, something deeper even than that compelling human need to become one with another and out of that, to make life.

  Deeper than that, it had awakened within her a sudden and strong need for family-for an abiding connection to others that transcended her experiences to date. She’d thought she’d felt that with her people, but now she was uncertain of it.

  Upon the death of her father, when she was very young, Hanric had done his best by her. He’d given over any personal desire he might have had for a family of his own to serve her father and later, her, so there really had been no woman to play the role of mother to the young queen. No siblings to shape her sense of place in the world. And knowing no different path, she’d grown up amid the Book of her predecessors and what other volumes they could pillage or purchase. She’d learned about her monthlies from their Herb Lady the day after it had first begun. She’d learned the fundamentals of procreation from Tertius, laid out for her in
the practiced language of Androfrancine scholarship without any of the trappings of love or marriage or wonderment. And until that day she and Neb had fallen to the ground, tangled in glossolalia and prophecy, she’d given no real further thought to it. But gradually, as he’d filled her dreams and they had become even further tangled up in images of a Home they would someday share, she’d grown to feel a bond like nothing she’d felt before. And now, she realized, this was essentially a part of the same dance.

  We long for connection. She saw it in Jin Li Tam’s face as she fed her baby. She felt it herself as she laughed with the women in the tent, clutching precariously to that life in her arms.

  If anyone had asked her even as early as last autumn, she’d have sworn she felt that connection with her people. But now, with Hanric in the ground and her boots fresh from the Androfrancine graveside at the Summer Papal Palace, she questioned that connection. Somehow, within her very people, her family, a vicious and twisted thing grew in shadows, and neither she nor her Twelve had known of it. She saw once again the look of despair and fear upon Seamus’s face as he pulled back his grandson’s shirt for her. She thought of the prophet, Ezra, and the milk white of his eyes. She remembered the ecstasy upon his face as he showed her the markings of ownership upon his breast.

  No, she realized, not just of ownership. but of belonging. A passionate and powerful connection to something.

  She shuddered. Begone, kin-raven.

  A low whistle drifted through the forest, and she realized they now approached the edge of a small clearing. At its center, a handful of horses gathered beneath the flags of Pylos and Turam. She glanced again to Jin Li Tam, saw that calm determination upon the woman’s face, and allowed that to settle her.

  Jin Li Tam looked to her and must have read the worry there in her eyes. “Follow my lead if you are uncertain,” she said. And as she spoke, her hands moved subtlety around the reins and along the neck of her horse. I will see you through this.