Shadow Gate

by Kate Elliott

  Guri grunted, frowning as he narrowed his eyes. He glanced at Joss. “Giving Olossi’s council another rope around our necks.”

  Volla nodded, but she looked skeptical. “Marshal, there’s another thing, since you’re here. We’ve need of a reeve to preside over our assizes. We have a number of cases to settle.”

  “I’ll sit this evening, if that will help you. What I cannot clear, I’ll be sure to let the stewards at Argent Hall know needs attention. They’ll send a reeve out.”

  “I thank you, then. I’ll see an assizes table is set up after supper.”

  “I have one other request,” continued Anji. “If there are respectable young women available, looking for husbands, I’d ask that the men I leave here be allowed to marry according to the custom of your country and set up a household. I could have women sent up from Olossi, but it might provide my men with more stability within the local area if their wives come from local families.”

  “Outlanders.” Volla eyed the dour Qin soldiers as they listened to the tale of their bravery and bold counterattack. “That won’t be easy.”

  “Any woman who marries one of my men will live well, and be treated properly.”

  Guri shook his head. “Why is it necessary? They can visit the temple of Ushara, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “My understanding is that any man can visit a temple, or other such establishment,” said Anji, “but that is not how a man would propose to conduct his entire life. Is that what you would want for your own sons, censor?”

  “I have no sons. I’ve never married. I’m dedicated to the Thunderer.” He chuckled as he looked Anji up and down. “I’m not fashioned in the same way you are. I like the same flesh Volla does.”

  She slapped him on the chest, in a jesting way. Joss smiled. These two trusted each other, which meant they could probably work together effectively in dire times.

  Anji had a way of marginally tightening his eyes that revealed, to Joss, that the captain, however clever he undoubtedly was, had not worked out the meaning behind the exchange.

  “Dedication to the gods is a worthy service,” the captain said finally, “but nevertheless, my men want to get married. The temple is not part of the custom of the land we come from. No man of my people will feel himself complete without marriage. That’s just how it is.”

  “Did none of these men leave behind wives in your old country?” Volla asked.

  “Some did, but since we are exiles and can never return, those women may as well be dead to them.”

  She pressed him. “How can we be sure they will not mistreat a woman here? No offense intended, I’m meaning, just we hear stories about how badly the Southerners treat women.”

  “We are Qin, not Sirni,” said Anji. “However, it’s true not every mating is a happy one. It is dishonorable for one party to leave another without proper negotiations. If there is trouble, you may bring the matter to the attention of my wife, in Olossi. I can assure you she will not allow any woman to be mistreated. If any of my men does so, I will whip him myself.”

  This coolly delivered promise satisfied Volla. “I suppose a woman who marries one of your men will be assured a decent house and furnishings, utensils, clothing.”

  “The opportunity to set up a workshop of her own, if she has a trade, which is a condition my wife insisted on. I only insist that you deal fairly with my men in this issue, that only hardworking and healthy women come forward, not leavings that no other clan would take. If you would prefer negotiations on these matters to go through my wife, you will find her better prepared to answer your questions and deal wisely with your concerns.”

  Volla examined the captain, then gave a swift and rather admiring once-over in Joss’s direction, enough to sweeten his grin. “I’ll see what I can do. Guri, what do you think?”

  “I think he’s not your type,” said the censor, tilting his chin toward Joss. “I don’t trust them when they’re that handsome and they know it.”

  She chuckled as Joss felt himself redden. Then she sighed. “It isn’t only rumor that discontented lads have walked north looking for adventure and never come home. That debt slaves in greater numbers than usual have vanished up country as runaways. Villages have been burned. The roads aren’t safe. Trade is hurting. We must be prepared. I just don’t know why we need outlanders to raise and train companies. What’s wrong with the likes of Censor Guri, here, and Kotaru’s ordinands, and the local militias? No offense meant, Captain Anji.”

  Captain Anji had a tough hide, able to take these repeated slings without showing their impact.

  “No offense taken, verea. Your militias and ordinands are sufficient for local traffic, but in terms of disciplined troops who can act in concert at range, and under severe conditions, you need a different sort of training, a thoroughgoing element of toughness. That’s what my troops can provide. We are the skeleton of a new fighting force, one that will protect Olo’osson. Every man willing to take up arms can receive the same training.”

  “I don’t see we have a choice,” said Guri. “It’s true enough that Kotaru’s legions are trained to serve local matters and local manners, not to march in cohorts under the command of a single general. But this is my question. Put our men under control of the city, then what’s to say the city doesn’t decide it controls us? Neh, Marshal?”

  “The man’s got a point,” said Volla.

  “It’s a fair enough question,” said Joss. “But these aren’t ordinary times, Censor Guri. If the Northerners attack again, having learned from their last attempt, we can’t fight back as a scatter of small units. We’ll be crushed.”

  “Let me tell you something about my mother’s people, the Qin,” said Captain Anji. “Our ancient enemies are demons who live in the west. There are a lot of them, I assure you. They steal young men and women from our people when they can.” His gaze drifted to a point somewhat above his listeners’ heads, and for a pair of breaths he stared pensively into the sky. By the way his jaw tensed, he was thinking about a matter that displeased him. Then he blinked, relaxed, and continued.

  “Why have the demons not overrun us? Because we have a var—a king—while demons always fight among themselves. They have no leader, no general. So we ride as a united people, and they scatter themselves into tribes.” With a half smile, he nodded at Volla. “Not that I’m comparing you folk to demons.”

  She snorted, pleased with his turnabout joke.

  “But bear in mind,” he went on, “that those who lead the northern army don’t care about niceties of Hundred custom. You can take your chances with an army in which you have some say, or you can take your chances with the invaders, who won’t stop to ask your leave. That’s how I see it. I came here to make a home for myself. I don’t want to ride to war. I want to live with my wife and raise my children—if I have many children, as I hope—in peace. So I’ll do what I must, to get what I want.”

  AT DAWN, JOSS rose after too little sleep, washed his face, dressed, and slouched out to the gates of the temple. Thank Ilu that Volla had kept the assizes polite, swatting down witnesses and offenders who threatened to become unruly or loud. She had kept him supplied with a good stock of decent wine. His head ached, but so far it was a dull throb.

  A number of locals, some he’d heard from yesterday evening, had gathered at the gates of the temple, come to purchase vials of oil of naya—best-quality water-white—from the Silver merchant before the troop rode on. Anji finished delivering instructions to the five soldiers he was leaving behind in Storos, then walked over to Joss.

  “If one of the reeves can return me to my company after I’ve assured myself all is well with Mai, I’d be doubly appreciative,” he said, pulling on gloves.

  Joss rubbed the back of his neck, hoping to find the root of the ache and smooth it out. “Your company is not riding straight back to Olossi?”

  Anji shook his head. “We must set up additional training camps and muster in as many recruits for training as possibl
e, immediately. Just as you’re training reeves—and I’m training more soldiers—in the Barrens.”

  “Ah, yes. In the Barrens.” Joss nodded toward the gate. “Do you have an arrangement with the Silvers?”

  “With the Ri Amarah? What do you mean?”

  “Isar is selling oil of naya. A precious commodity, found within lands you’ve now claimed, in the Barrens.”

  “King’s oil—that’s what they call it in the empire—is renowned for its healing properties. The Ri Amarah concentrate on physic and ointments, items easily carted in small amounts and used for healing. Which they sell at a fair price, and make available to all, not just the wealthy.”

  “Captain,” said Joss with a laugh, “was that an answer?”

  Anji’s smile when it came was full with real amusement. Aui! The man had dimples. Who would have thought it!

  “Better to speak truth to the man on whose harness my life will be dependent, eh?” he said. “Lest, like an arrow, I be loosed to fall to earth.”

  “I’d not loose you for anything less than, say, stealing your beautiful wife.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. Anji’s grin vanished, but after all he was still looking at Isar. The other Olossi merchant was talking to various local men and women, but she hadn’t brought anything to sell to the villagers.

  “I’ve been betrayed three times, Marshal. I don’t give my trust easily. The Ri Amarah have dealt honorably with me, and given sanctuary to my wife.”

  “I was joking about stealing your wife,” said Joss hastily.

  Anji raised a gloved hand as a customer dismisses an offered cup of cordial at an inn. “I know it. You’re an honorable man, and you’re too old for her anyway.”

  The silky way the words slipped out made Joss wince.

  “And there’s your weakness,” added Anji, a wicked gleam sharpening his straight-lipped expression. “You’re vain of your good looks and your ease with women.”

  “Ouch. So what’s your weakness, Captain?”

  “Not for me to say.”

  “Your love for your wife?”

  “Not at all. She is my strength. It’s not my place to go naming my weaknesses. That would be like showing my enemy where I’d placed my most inexperienced tail-men.”

  Joss laughed. “You’re a hard one to catch out.”

  “I trained in a hard school, the palace school of the imperial palace in Sirniaka.”

  “Would the Red Hounds who serve the emperor really track you into a foreign country?”

  “Track the emperor’s half brother? Especially now that the emperor is facing a revolt from his cousins over whose claim to the throne is most legitimate? My brother considers me a danger to his position, and my cousins likely more so, as I am the only other surviving son of Emperor Farutanihosh, who was their father’s older brother. Or do you think Tam was killed by the demon you’re calling a Guardian?”

  “He was murdered with a poisoned knife. And your other soldier poisoned as well.”

  “Seren’s life was saved by Ri Amarah healing, I remind you. He and Tam had nothing to do with the demon girl, ever. Indeed, Seren complained bitterly about her traveling with the company. Many of the men did. They wanted no demon to bring ill luck down on us.” He stroked his tightly cropped beard. “Listen, Marshal. The local militia has looked into the death of Tam. But if the deed proved to be of local origin, some malcontent, would the Olossi militia hesitate to turn on one of their own?”

  “You don’t trust them, even though you are—as I believe—their new commander?”

  “I’m an outlander in their eyes, however appreciative they might be that my men saved them. That’s another reason I must recruit more widely. I mean to create an army out of men drawn from all over the region who will be trained under banners, not with their local cousins but with strangers. They will learn to be loyal not to their village but to Olo’osson.”

  “A dangerous thing, an army,” said Joss. “As Censor Guri pointed out.”

  “As you must all know by now, seeing what havoc an army can wreak on an unprotected population. Nevertheless, if your reeves might investigate, I’d be grateful. I want justice for my dead soldiers, as any captain would.”

  Joss nodded. “We have our ears and eyes open. Are you ready, then? I’ll call Scar.”

  “I’m ready.”

  Joss raised the bone whistle to his lips, but lowered it before he blew. “You never answered my question about the Ri Amarah, and the oil of naya.”

  The dimple flashed again. “Marshal, don’t you know that I leave all trading arrangements to my wife?”

  MAI PLACED FLOWERS on the altar, a table raised on bricks and covered with a red cloth. An image of the Merciful One gazed upon them with a gentle, almost detached expression of compassionate enlightenment, an upraised hand to signify awakening and another hand cupped at the belly to signify comfort. The colors in the painting glowed, not quite yet dried. The features and robes had more straight lines than curves, reflecting the style of the Hundred, but the artist had done a decent job in a short time with an unfamiliar subject.

  “I offer these flowers at the feet of the Merciful One. Through the merit of offering may I walk the path of awakening. The color and fragrance of flowers fade, so does the body wither and disintegrate. Receive this with compassion.”

  She sat on the floor beside Priya. Sheyshi and several of the younger Qin soldiers sat behind them in the small room, while at the open doors several soldiers and a few of the local women watched. Priya led the chanting.

  “I go to the Merciful One for refuge. I go to the Truth for refuge. I go to the Awakened for refuge.”

  As Priya chanted on through the Four Undertakings, the Five Rewards, and the Six Virtues, Mai heard voices elsewhere in the house punctuated by the clack of doors slapped open and shut. Men shuffled by the entry, rustling and murmuring, and she lost track of the thread of Priya’s prayer. A little annoyed, she looked over her shoulder to see who had the audacity to disturb them.

  The onlookers made way as Anji stepped into the room. With only the barest flicker of a glance in her direction, he knelt at the back of the room, sitting with hands open on his thighs. He closed his eyes. The disturbance raised by his entrance stilled. Priya had not faltered, and she worked on through the Seven Candles, lighting each stick of incense, and the Eight Truths, while Mai struggled to regain the momentary peace she had felt when she placed the flowers before the image of the Merciful One.

  “Merciful One, your wisdom is boundless. Excuse me for the transgressions I have made through thoughtlessness, through neglect, through fear. May the rains come at the proper time. May the harvest be abundant. May the world prosper, and justice be served. Accept my prayers out of compassion. Peace.”

  Mai rose and walked out of the chamber to her private sleeping chamber where no person but Anji or Priya would dare follow. As Anji did. She turned to face him as he slid the door closed. He remained by the door, she by the wide pallet and its neatly piled coverlets.

  He studied her with a frown. “You are well? Unharmed?”

  As with a cloudburst, the sky opened. “She had only to look at me, and it was as if she ripped free every terrible memory I ever had. There was one time I was not more than six or seven, and Uncle Girish wasn’t more than thirteen, and he sat down beside me in the garden and started stroking my hair in a way that made me feel dirty. When I tried to get up he dragged me back by the wrist to sit beside him. Then Father came out into the garden, and he beat Girish until his nose bled and one of his teeth cracked, and told him that if he ever touched any of the household children again that he would kill him. Afterward when Grandmother saw Uncle Girish’s bruises she went crazy yelling and screaming at everyone because she never liked Father even though he was her eldest. He was Grandfather Mei’s favorite so she hated him because she hated Grandfather Mei, and anything Grandfather Mei liked, she hated. It was an arranged marriage, but the matchmakers weren’t careful enough, and it p
oisoned her. So because Grandfather Mei thought Girish was too fussy and spiteful, she loved Girish best even though it spoiled him until he fermented. Well, she loved Hari, too, but everyone loved Hari. And then after Grandmother’s tantrums, Girish tried to lord it over Father, and Father made all of us little children come into his office and then he choked Girish until he blacked out, and then he said to us, if he ever touches one of you, tell me. So Girish left us alone except to say ugly things to us, but of course now I see he must have gone elsewhere where folk weren’t so particular about what he did to children. Cornflower poisoned him, and then tried to poison herself, but the poison didn’t kill her. Mother and Aunt wanted to sell her, and Grandmother was delirious with grief, but the men refused to sell her away. They couldn’t let her alone. In a household like that if there is one female who gets special attention from all the men, then usually the other women are jealous of her, but no one hated her. They wanted to be rid of her—which is how she got sent with Shai—but they didn’t envy her. Maybe they were grateful to her for killing Girish.” She was in a sweat, mouth dry. “Merciful One! I’m babbling.”

  “No, you’re making a good deal of sense.” Still, he did not approach her. “She is a demon, Mai. That you resisted her testifies to your strength. Chief Tuvi says you saved O’eki’s life, when everyone else was helpless. Let us hope she has taken her revenge and will leave us alone.”

  The knot that weighted her heart unraveled in a scalding explosion of tears. “B-b-but she’s going north to kill Shai! Because of what I said.”

  She sobbed so hard she was only vaguely aware of Anji drawing her down to the bed, sitting with arms around her, holding her close as she wept. As the storm faded, he wiped her running nose with a cloth, pressed a cup of juice to her lips. She sipped, and hiccoughed. He wiped her eyes with a finger, kissed her, explored the curve of belly with a tentative touch.

  She hiccoughed again, and blew her nose. “Isn’t there any way to warn Shai? Couldn’t the reeves look for him?”

  “The demon has to track him down first. I’ll talk to Marshal Joss.” He startled, sitting straight, and pressed a hand against her belly. “What was that?”