I glanced at the shadowed length of its nose, just visible under the hood. "And Transactions isn't going to be suspicious of House Molan losing one hundred and forty people?"
Hesa looked at me. "You didn't know their names."
"What?" I said. "Whose?"
It said, quiet, "The lovers who lost their lives on the dais."
The wind hissed over the ground, between the broken stone teeth of the ruins, as I received the weight of the words and their implications.
"So," Hesa said at last. "Of the two Houses, Molan is the one that survived... barely. It has problems keeping employees. The House shed nearly a third of its members when the majority of het Kabbanil's Great Houses refused to do business with them. Its recovery since then has been a long struggle punctuated by frequent set-backs during which it tends to lose large numbers of Jokka. And since the empire has sympathy for those who don't want to be associated with perversion, Transactions looks the other way when a group out of Molan decides they want to leave, assuming that there has been some accusation within the House that no one wants to talk about outside it."
"I'm... surprised... that no one has investigated Molan, given how badly they must want revenge for what was done to them by the Stone Moon," I murmured. "You're sure no one is going to make assumptions?"
"That Molan is in league with the dissidents?" Hesa said. It grimaced. "You have not been to House Molan, Pathen. The entire House has the air of beaten animals. Even the stones in the buildings seem to weep. Anyone who walks out of there does so convinced that the House's only wish is to once again be accepted by the people of het Kabbanil. To cease having to struggle against the prejudices created by the scandal. They do a very good job of maintaining that impression because it's true." It shook its head. "They'll help us. But I think the only reason they will is because the emperor is gone, so they believe if they're discovered they won't be as sorely punished."
I glanced at it.
"I know," Hesa said. "I know, Pathen. But this gives us our best, absolute best chance, particularly since Molan has always kept a small complement of eperu separate from the empire's labor. No one is going to question a raft of desertions from Molan."
I studied its profile, then said, "Because Molan will truly be missing one hundred and forty Jokka, won't it."
The eperu smiled a little. "If you guarantee the escape, the beaten animal will flee."
"That's well-done," I said softly, thinking of the dead lovers. "A small injustice mitigated, and we'll have played a part in it."
"Yes," Hesa said, satisfied.
"What about the rest of our people?" I asked. "One hundred and forty... how many are left?"
"The remaining Jokka of Thenet's kingdom, with Laisira now added to their number, total two hundred and thirty," Hesa said. "Of that total, two hundred will eventually come with us. And we have a plan for what we'll do as a House as well, something that will give us an excuse to run trade caravans and keep our own rikka."
"Oh?" I said.
It smiled. "It was Abadil's idea and he's very excited about it, so I'll let him explain it to you when we're on the road. He'll be one of the original draft."
"All right," I said. "It sounds like you have your end sewn up tidily. I'll take care of my end."
"You did the hard part already, convincing ke Suker to give you the House," Hesa said. "The rest of it has been logistics. Not difficult."
"Not difficult," I said, "for you."
"You see?" it said, and tapped its chest. "Pefna." It rested the flat of that hand on my chest. "And you—"
"Head of Household, apparently," I said. "I'll have to come up with a name for our little enterprise before we reach het Narel."
The eperu laughed, soft. "You'll think of something. Pathen... a few other things. So you won't be surprised."
I glanced at it and it smiled, a little lopsided smile that turned my heart. And then it drew down its hood.
"Your mane," I said, shocked.
"I don't look anything like Hesa Laisira-emodo, do I?" it said, and it didn't. The Hesa of House Laisira had had waist-length scarlet curls that, when they'd consented to be bound at all, had been messily pulled back with a single scarf, or badly imprisoned in an even messier braid. But someone had cut its mane off at the shoulder and dyed it some dark color I couldn't discern in the moonlight—brown perhaps—and the curls had relaxed into long waves.
"The others have done similar things," it said. "They're minor changes, but most people won't be examining us closely enough for more to be necessary."
"It's a good idea," I said huskily and pushed back a much tidier fall of hair from over its eye. It lifted its brows at my expression. "You had this curl," I said. "When I first met you. It kept falling over your eye and I could never stop looking at it."
Hesa closed its eyes, enjoying the caress. "I'll grow it back the right color when it's safe." And then it opened its eyes, looking up at me through its lashes. The expression would have been coy had its amusement not been so palpable. "Really? One curl?"
"Two," I admitted. "The other was near the side of your neck."
It hid its smile by ducking its head, and the movement of the mane against its face was a stranger's. It was a typical cut for an emodo and I couldn't see the Hesa I'd known in it. If I squinted, I could imagine the Hesa who'd been born male, though. I wondered how I felt about being able to see it as a male when I'd fallen in love with it as eperu: glad that I could fool myself into thinking our relationship something more normal? Unnerved that I'd lost "my" Hesa? Or confused that it mattered what body it was inhabiting?
"The other thing," it said. "We've decided for safety's sake that you should arrive in het Narel with a lover."
"A lover!" I said, my thoughts scattering. "Why?"
"Because of the rumors of impropriety that attached to you here after our investigation," it said, and lifted a hand to still my protest. "Yes, they were only rumors. That's the trouble. Rumors are impossible to disprove to people who enjoy trading them. And an emodo with a lover looks more settled to other Jokka, which can only work in our favor when we arrive."
"I can see that," I said reluctantly. "But I don't like the idea."
"You'll like it even less when I'm done with the tale," Hesa said. "We've chosen your lover for you—"
The look on its face...
"And we think the best Jokkad for the role is Darsi," Hesa finished.
I might have cramped my ears, they flattened so quickly. "You're not serious!"
"I'm afraid I am," it said.
"Gods!" I said. "There has to be some better choice! What about Abadil?"
"He's a terrible actor," Hesa said. "He only survived the Stone Moon's arrival by being known as—and actually being—a drunk, and then he stumbled out of town and fell into the truedark Jokka's arms. While drunk. He won't be able to hold with the story—unless you're willing to make it true...?"
"No," I said immediately. "Barit?"
"Barit is staying behind with Ilushet to manage the Jokka waiting in the wild," Hesa said.
"Laisira is full of emodo," I said. "All those weavers... surely one of them...?"
It lifted its brows. "None of them volunteered, Pathen. For the very good reason that they're still terrified of you."
"Terrified!" I exclaimed.
"Haven't you ever looked at your own reflection?" Hesa said. "Pathen... you move like someone trained to violence. Like someone accustomed to backing his own threats. You're already not a small Jokkad and you carry yourself like an eightclaws hunting. It's beautiful to watch but no one still right-minded is comfortable drawing too close."
I looked away and the eperu allowed me that. I didn't like thinking of myself as someone who could frighten other Jokka. In fact, I hated it.
"Someone in het Narel, then," I said, when I found my voice again.
"...and who will we be able to trust the way we trust the people we know were already committed to this path?" Hesa said. "Abadil might vo
uch for them but it's an unnecessary risk. Darsi's going to have to be involved with the management of the House anyway. He and I are used to working as a team. If he plays at your lover, you'll have a reason to take him with you to anything important and then I'll have two sources of information: if one of you is busy I can consult with the other. Because I will very certainly not be able to go to your meetings. Not if we want to avoid attracting attention."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd engineered this course of action to force a rapprochement between us," I said, sour.
"A rapprochement would require there have been some sort of amity in the beginning," Hesa said. "Which there never has been. Darsi can do this, Pathen. More importantly, he needs to. He feels the destruction of Laisira as much as I do. It was our plan that saw them out of het Kabbanil and from there to ruin. He needs a chance to make amends. Let him do this."
"I'll have to touch him," I said, flattening my ears.
"Only in public, and as much as is proper in public," Hesa said. It rested gentle fingers on my chin. "Pathen."
I said, "I'll consider it."
It studied my face, then said, "Consider it seriously."
"I promise," I said.
"Mmm," it said. "Keep that promise better than the one you did about the public dais."
I thought I'd suppressed my flinch but Hesa felt it through its fingertips anyway. It looked up at me. "Pathen?"
"You were there at Ajul's sentencing," I said, low. "You remember."
It hesitated. "Yes. I do."
I strove for words when I didn't have names for the feelings at conflict in me. "I never wanted to be there. The Claws on the dais with me. They didn't want to be there. The Jokka watching didn't want to be there. All of us, Hesa. All of us wished we were somewhere else. In some other life. All of us still do." I met its eyes and my voice fell to a rasp. "It's so wrong. The anger I feel. The grief. It's ruinous. I don't know what to do with it."
Hesa met my eyes without cringing, without looking away... with nothing but the metal-hardness of its convictions and its will, the very things I'd found so irresistible. It had called me a predator but I saw nothing of prey in the eperu.
"What you do," Hesa said at last, "is go with us to het Narel and begin the work that will see it changed."
That made me laugh, a rusty cough of a sound. "Pefna."
"Head of Household," it answered. And leaned up to kiss me, and it was a slow kiss and a good one, and I even forgot that it looked like a stranger with a bobbed mane that smelled like dye instead of honey.
"Three days," I said when we parted.
"Three days," it said and slipped off the column.
"Hesa," I said as it was walking away. When it stopped and looked over its shoulder at me, I said, "You weren't really afraid of me. Were you?"
"Of course I was," it said. "But fear is part of living. One heeds its counsel and then does what needs to be done anyway. Or one does nothing." It smiled. "Besides. There are things worth having on the other side of fear."
"Setasha," I said, softer. "Stay out of chains."
"And you," it said. "Stay out of trouble." It grinned. "That one I think you can manage."
The eperu left me with a chest tight with too many things: anger and grief and laughter and grief again. I like to think I heeded their counsel, but I fear I skipped that step and continued directly to doing what needed to be done.
I brought my requests to Jushet the following morning and stood before him in his office as he reviewed the slate. He'd done me the honor of asking me to deliver them personally without Suker's escort, and by that I thought that I had somehow impressed him in the short time he'd known me. I supposed if I'd really been the Claw who'd orchestrated the downfall of the rebels and had been at work on it since Ajul's trial I would have been worthy of that interest; as it was, I wasn't entirely glad of the invitation.
Jushet read the slate in silence, paused at its end, glanced up at me. Then he leaned back, slate still in his hands, to study me more carefully.
"House Molan," he said at last.
"Yes, ke Jushet," I said.
"And you're taking the entire draft," he said.
"Yes, sir," I said.
"Why?" he asked, and though his tone was more curious than interrogative I decided to err on the side of caution.
"They're good workers and they want to prove themselves," I said. "They'll never have that chance here. Not a fair one."
"It's a kindness for you to offer them that opportunity," Jushet said. When I didn't say anything, he lifted his brows. "No comment?"
"Sir," I said. "I needed a House. They needed a home. It seemed a good beginning."
"Yes," Jushet said, studying me. "Yes, it is. But a hundred and forty Jokka is small for a great House in a major city. You're sure it's enough?"
"If I need more I will speak with Minister Thesenet," I said. "Perhaps we can work out an arrangement if he and Transactions agree that there are Jokka who need a new master."
"Reasonable," Jushet said. "I'll write you a permit for an annual allotment from the pool of available children. If you can keep the House running for a year without foundering you'll be able to count on that to grow your workforce."
"Ke Jushet," I said, surprised. "You don't even know if my House will be worth sponsoring!"
"Its Head of Household is," Jushet said. "Pathen, your requests are modest and the decision to take Molan's refugees is... I won't say 'compassionate,' because we both know that kindness is not an imperial virtue. Kindness builds no roads, after all... isn't that how the proverb goes?" He smiled, showing fangs as I stared at him. "I'll say 'thoughtful' instead. Or 'efficient,' that's even better, isn't it? The empire loves efficiency."
"Efficiency does build roads," I said, still staring at him.
Jushet chuckled. "I'll send word ahead to Thesenet about the children. And there will be a deposit in het Narel's Holdings office comprising the balance of the reward which you have not spent, not with this slate. So use it in good health once you arrive."
I said, "I will, sir." And then, on instinct, "You should visit. One day when you need time to yourself."
"I might at that," Jushet said and stood, offering me his wrist. I clasped it. "I won't see you again before you leave, so go well, Pathen. You have done great things for the empire. You've earned your new life."
"I hope so," I said. "And thank you."
Over the next few days, House Molan's Jokka slipped out of het Kabbanil in the quietest hours near truedark and House Laisira's Jokka replaced them. They arrived only to be sold to me and sent off in groups down the southern road to het Narel, there to scout out a property appropriate to whatever use Abadil had concocted and prepare it for my arrival. In this way they continued until only ten of them were left to accompany me on my journey.
On that last morning, Suker was waiting for me in my office with a pot of keddif.
"Tell me the name of my spy," he said without preamble.
I pulled my chair around to the front of the desk so I could sit facing him, which I did, legs crossed at the knee and hands in a relaxed clasp on it. "Thulin Shural-emodo. You tend to like the quiet ones."
"Mmm. And Jushet's?" Suker asked.
"Two so far," I said. "One emodo, Kaliser Kaduye-emodo—very clever, choosing someone from a House I'd formerly been charged with overseeing, but maybe too clever—and an eperu, Shavi Ithera-emodo. I suppose only a head of the Claws would think to trust an eperu with spying on another Claw... but it was born emodo, so maybe there's some history there I'm not aware of." I reached over and poured for us both before offering him the cup. "I presume there will be several more when we start hiring in het Narel, but I won't know until I get there."
"Well, spit," Suker said, frowning. "To know all of them immediately you must have had a list of the Jokka you were planning to hire..." He trailed off and looked at me. And then chuckled. "House Molan—oh, very nice. I won't ask how you did it but that was a can
ny bit of work."
"The offer stands," I said. "If you want out, Suker."
Suker flicked his ears out, his smile rueful. "And now I believe you could manage it." He leaned back in his chair. "But no. I'll stay and do what I can here."
"If you're sure," I said. And frowned a little. "Ke Jushet seems... a fair Jokkad."
"For someone in his position?" Suker said. "I think he is. But I wouldn't gamble on it. Especially with the stakes you're playing for."
I snorted. "I've moved out of this office and you're still acting like my manager."
"Old habits leave deep grooves," Suker said. "But here's my last bit of advice. Be careful in het Narel, Pathen. If they try to take you down it'll be with an accusation of perversion. It's the only thing likely to create a big enough scandal to put paid to a hero of the empire."
And that made altogether too much sense. Enough that I thought with disgust that I'd have to take up with Darsi after all. "I have something in mind."
"Good," Suker said. "Is everything else in order?"
"I'm just waiting for the last of the hires to arrive from Transactions," I said. "Then we'll be off. But I appreciate the drink before I go."
"Keddif's not too popular in het Narel," Suker said. "I remembered you having a taste for it." He grinned. "Maybe you can arrange to import it through this House of yours."
"Maybe," I said. "I'll have to ask my keepers though. They've apparently decided what the House business is... and not told me yet."
Suker laughed. "I suppose they don't want you involved in the details."
"The details," I agreed, dryly. "Like how we'll make the money to stay solvent. Yes, indeed, a very small detail that."
"Are they all so obstreperous?" Suker asked, amused.
"Most of them," I said. "The clay-keeper in charge of this little idea more than most, though." I smiled. "I like him, though. I like them all. They'll serve."
"That's all you can ask most days," Suker said. "Jokka like you were rare." He refilled my cup as I glanced at him, startled. "You were always a pleasure to work with, Pathen. I'll miss your sarcasm, your competence, your way of doing your work without overstating the empire's power. I would have loved to have a dozen of you... the best I could do was put you in charge as fast as I could so you could maybe train your hires to your level of excellence."
A Bloom in the North Page 7
