No, the Lady Deq Dimani had much to answer for. Her vaunting ambition, her ancient hates, her heedless desire to win Yan Kor’s war with the aid of terrible powers from the Planes Beyond—all were dust when compared with the Lady Jai. The Lady Deq Dimani mourned her, Trinesh knew, but did she have the honesty to face her guilt in the girl’s death—even to herself, in her most private moments? Did Jai’s ghost visit her, too, to point a finger of accusation? That he doubted; Jai had adored her mistress, obeyed her, and done all that she commanded. She had been unselfish and loyal.
Even when it meant her own sacrifice, her own death.
Nobility . . . !
The Lady Deq Dimani still limped a little. She picked her way across the rough stones to Trinesh and Aluja, then halted for a last view.
Trinesh greeted her with careful formality. “My Lady.”
“Hereksa.” She seemed hesitant.
“You return to Yan Kor.”
“Or to Milumanaya. And you to Tsolyanu? Or Kankara?” “My place is with my Legion and my Prince.”
“As is mine with my people.”
She brushed her long tresses back from her cheeks with the graceful gesture he had come to know. “We may meet again—on the field of battle. As once I promised General Kadarsha.”
This touched something within him. “Yes. Kadarsha.” He clamped his lips shut.
Her eyes glinted yellow in the feeble sunlight. “1—met him once, long ago, in the Chakan forests. I invited him to come to Vridu, to be my consort, chief among my harem of men. But he would not tolerate a matriarchy.”
“I can understand that. Nor could any Tsolyani male.”
“It is no shame in our northlands.”
“No more than were I to invite you to become my chief wife in Tumissa, not a protected little clan-girl but an Aridani, my equal . . .” He cursed himself; this bottle he had meant to leave sealed forever!
She gave him a little half-smile. “We are both of warrior clans.”
He did not want to hear—especially not this! The ghosts of Tse’e and the Lady Jai still hovered too close.
“We are not soft, gentle, staunch, peaceable people such as the adherents of Lady Avanthe or Lord Thumis,” she went on. “Our nobility is not the pursuit of quiet dignity, the round of the year, the sowing and the harvest, the birthing of children, the building of clan and nation and religion. We are warrior-folk: two Zrne who battle over their prey and mate only when one or the other howls for quarter.”
“As you say.” He bit his lip. There were doors here that he did not wish to open. More, he was no longer sure. Trinesh hiKetkolel of the Red Mountain Clan had much thinking to do before he—and his little inner voice—decided what really lay within himself. He turned to Aluja. “Where is Arjasu?”
The Mihalli gave a rippling shrug. “He chooses to stay.” “What? But—”
“He requires healing, just as the Lady did, though his injury is not of the body but of the Spirit-Soul. Such a wound is worse: it festers and is harder to cure. Solitude, peace, and contemplation are his medicines; time is the physician.” Aluja swung around to scrutinize the cloud-daises of mauve and burgundy heaped high upon the horizon. “When he is recovered I shall return for him. His Skein, too, must be rewound and woven anew.”
Trinesh understood—partially, anyway. He asked, “Then we are ready? Come, Ridek, it is home to Ke’er for you. Your father will be oveijoyed.”
The boy grinned nervously. In his accented Tsolyani he said, “At first. Then he will be very angry.”
“If Lord Fu Shi’i lives—” the Lady Deq Dimani murmured in an ominous undertone.
“My father-r-and I—will deal with him. If he managed to rescue the Lorun woman before Flamesong brought down the ocean upon her, then the two of us will see to her as well.” He shot the Lady Deq Dimani a sidelong glance; she, too, would have to curb her single-minded zeal and her willfulness if she wanted to maintain her status at the court of Ke’er.
The boy was strong. Should Ridek Chna Aid survive, he would become a power indeed! He possessed many of his father’s better traits, and he had not suffered the terrible trauma of the soul that had so marred the Baron. When Ridek took up the “Amethyst Sceptre of the Clans United,” Tsolyanu would face an implacable foe. Perhaps—just perhaps—some-.
thing could be done about that first. Prince Mirusiya was not stupid; there might be—must be—a way to turn Ridek, and through him Yan Kor, into an ally.
The Nexus Point appeared. They saluted one another and passed through it.
Trinesh gazed down from the dry, sunbaked scarp upon the Sakbe road. There was Kankara! Beyond, the serpentine column of the army wound along the sere roadway to Sunraya for the opening of the spring campaign. He looked upon the dusty squares of marching troops, the nodding plumes of the A'amg-standards, the potpourri of multi-hued uniforms and emblazoned shields, the glittering spear-points and the sheen of armor. There came the gaudy litters of the officers and the folk of the Imperial household, then the plodding Chlen-carts, top-heavy with baggage and provisions. In the rear, like £)n-ants swarming across the plain beside the buff-and-brown roadway, followed the settlers, slaves, servants, whores, merchants, and ^11 the rest. In the midst of the van the pinnacles, banners, and awnings of Prince Mirusiya’s magnificent palanquin showed gold and azure above everything else like the palace of one of the gods. Even from this distance Trinesh could hear the deep, sonorous roll of the marching drums, the bray of horns, and the shriek of flutes.
This was familiar. This was home.
He took a step and found Chosun beside him. Another pace, and the events of the recent past began to recede. Another, and they became memory.
They would fade. But never completely.
“Report to General Kutume, HereksaT' The big man sounded as happy as Trinesh had ever known him.
“What else? We’ve a war to fight.”
“Ai, and a little business back in Kankara.” The Tirrikamu rubbed his shapeless lump of a nose. “Okkuru and 1—uh— hid some of his wealth while you were busy reporting to the scribes, right when we first arrived from Pu’er. It’s likely still buried under the floor of the tent where they put us. The guards won’t let Okkuru back into camp—not after the Prince almost gave him the ‘high ride’ and packed him off into the desert with General Kutume as a personal escort! La, if we can get leave for a day or two . . . !”
Trinesh’s mood improved. “No chance of that! General Kutume’ll suffocate us under documents, ring us about with scribblers, and have us picking fly-turds out of his Chumetl for a month for being absent without permission! If Okkuru is still about, we can divide the gold with him later-—after all, we’ve earned our shares of it, too! But we’ll have to come back for it.”
“Ohe, after we take Vridu,” Chosun questioned slyly. “Yes, all of Yan Kor. I, Trinesh hiKetkolel, intend to be a general myself someday. ’ ’
He would not speak of the Lady Deq Dimani. Chosun noted this and asked no more.
“A noble Skein, Hereksa. But I recall what you said in Ninue about a soldier’s wagon.” The Tirrikamu stroked his jaw philosophically. “Money’s only one wheel. The other three are your clan, your friends, and the good graces of your superiors. Those’re what roll you on to glory.”
Trinesh laughed. He could smell the dust, the leather, the spices, the perfumes, the sweat, and the stench of the great army.
Chosun added, “And as that Mihalli-creature, Aluja, said: at least we’re freer than we were, out of the grasp of at least some of the greedy buggers from the other Planes!”
His words cast a slight shadow over the sunny landscape. “Ai, Hereksa. He said we should keep all of the meddlers from the Planes Beyond away from Tekumel—his own folk included! Play our own game and not let the big gamblers from outside bring in their dice! Fight our own wars, solve our own problems, and weave our own Skeins ourselves. Human Skeins in human hands! Worship the gods but be ready to toss ’em aside when we find we’ve becom
e damned well as mighty as they are!”
Trinesh turned to raise a quizzical eyebrow at him. “That last advice you had best forget,” he said sternly. “That’s heresy, and those like Lord Huso will fry your liver on their altars for it!”
Chosun guffawed and kicked at a clod of earth.
They trudged on in companionable silence.
Come to think of it, the Mihalli’s counsel did make a goodly amount of sense at that.
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