"All at once?" I said.
"Oh no," Kaliser said. "Only if it's a small number of purchases. If it's a large number they wait several days between purchases."
"Is it the same emodo each time?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
"No," Kaliser said. "No, it's a different group each time."
"So no one will realize that House Asara's emodo are buying more than they should be," I said.
"No," Kaliser said. "But anyone who came here would know, ke emodo... the eperu aren't supposed to own property and they do. And that's... that's what worries me." He looked up at me. "We have Claws now coming here more often. What if one of them sees...?"
"A reasonable fear," I said. "Thank you for bringing it to my attention."
Kaliser stood and added, anxious, "You won't punish them? Any of them, I mean? Not the eperu or the emodo?"
"No," I said. "I won't."
Relieved, he touched his palm to his brow and dismissed himself, leaving me with Abadil, who closed the door behind him.
And then we both started laughing. When we finally stopped, Abadil said, "We have a clever and indomitable House, ke emodo."
"So we do," I said. "And I see Kaliser is well and truly part of it."
"I didn't doubt," Abadil said with a grin. "Everyone who comes within your aegis falls in love with House Asara. Even that Claw of yours is fond of Hesa, and who ever heard of a Claw of the empire becoming fond of an eperu?"
"Oh, I don't know," I said. "It's happened before."
"What!" Hesa said when I pulled it aside at the warehouse to tell it.
"Surely you wondered why there were so many things in the eperu quarters?" I said. "They've been decorating."
"They... I..." Hesa came to a halt, pressing the heel of its hand to its brow. "Pathen," it said. "Eperu can't have property! It's against the law!"
"They don't have property," I said. "House Asara's emodo have given them gifts. Since eperu can't own anything, those gifts are the property of the House. They're merely being used by the eperu. If anyone asks we'll tell them, quite properly, that the gifts will remain with the House when the eperu leave."
"The eperu aren't ever going to leave, Pathen," Hesa said, exasperated.
"A small detail we don't have to share with the Stone Moon's accountants," I said.
"Pathen—"
"Hesa," I said, interrupting. "I won't stop them. You convinced me of the dangers of giving the eperu money directly and I won't put any of our people in danger that way again. But I won't reprimand our emodo for generosity. It mattered to them that their comrades be compensated and they found a way that endangers no one. What message would it send for me to tell them to stop? To the emodo and the eperu of the House?"
It fell silent, watching our people at work, the firelight limning their shimmering skins against the deep blue of the late evening sky. Then it sighed and said, "You're right. You can't do that. But the eperu can't be seen with property outside the House."
"Have they been?" I said. "Give our people credit for their intelligence, Hesa. That neither of us knew about this is entirely due to their discretion. Let them wear their nice clothes and enjoy their small pleasures in the House. They've earned them."
"All right," it said. And glanced at me. "They really went through all that trouble. The emodo."
"According to Darsi they're all involved," I said. "It is a House custom now, giving gifts to eperu."
Hesa laughed. "Giving gifts, my tail! They're running a procurement system!"
"Apparently they've learned something of business affairs," I said. "I wonder how."
It threw a smile at me, a casual expression of a pleasure I hadn't seen in far too long. I thought of its bare room; of course, no one had dared approach it to ask it if there was something it wanted from the market, for fear that it would shut the whole operation down.
Which was fine, because that left me the honor.
The next day I took Darsi by the arm and dragged him out of his office, ignoring his protestations about the work I was interrupting. He relented when he saw I was serious and said, "At least tell me where we're going."
"You know that the emodo are buying gifts for the eperu," I said.
"Of course—"
"No one has bought anything for Hesa," I said.
That gave Darsi pause. Then he said, "Let's saddle some rikka then. Though... to be honest, I think we could spend all our money in the Green and not have spent enough. If we were all paid in proportion to the amount we earn and the hours we work..."
I laughed. "If we were all paid thus, no one on Ke Bakil could afford Hesa's services." We left the House for the stables, where we saddled our own rikka; the eperu who normally would have done so were at the construction site. "While we're out you can also buy gifts for Kuli."
"You think..." His thoughts drifted. He drew the bridle onto his beast and threw the reins over its neck. "Is that wise?"
"The anadi have always been the recipients of gifts from their House-mates," I said. "And if anyone is buying for Kuli, it should be you. Besides, she's having a baby. We should find things for the child too."
"This might be fun," Darsi said, sounding bemused.
"It wouldn't be a bad thing to have fun once in a while," I said, and pulled myself into the saddle.
We stopped first at Holdings to withdraw some of our salary, and from there we spent a rare afternoon at leisure. Even that was a form of work, to let the het see the Head of House Asara abroad with his lover, obviously still in possession of his wealth and spending it without visible concern. Darsi bought Hesa softer blankets, woven with a beautiful grain pattern in orange and cream... "For me more than it," he said to me later with a laugh, "since I'm the one using the bed." We both bought clothes, for Hesa and Kuli both, and scarves—"Not as good as Laisira silk, but it'll do,"—and a waist chain for Kuli like the ones anadi used to wear when they could be valued members of a House, true metal with tawny opals. We even picked up a doll for the baby. But I didn't find what I wanted until we rode to the temple district so Darsi could buy incense and a small burner for it, to pray for Kuli's safety.
There, tucked amid the other shops selling religious trinkets and talismans, I found rings.
For generations, the Houses of Ke Bakil had recognized their most valued members by awarding them rings: the largest for the emodo, threaded through the gap where the tail lifted from the back; for anadi, a medium-sized ring pierced through the navel slit; and for eperu, the smallest of the three, hung from a single ear. Beneath the Stone Moon the piercing of valued emodo had become mandatory, a way to call out the individuals suitable for breeding duties, but eperu and anadi no longer earned rings. I hadn't seen them for sale since the empire's arrival... but then, I hadn't been looking.
"Is that wise?" Darsi asked when I bought one.
"It's proper," I said, and wrapped the ring in one of the scarves. I expected a comment so when he didn't reply I looked over and found him somber. "Yes?" I said.
"Of course," he said quietly.
We rode home where we applied ourselves to arranging our signs of appreciation in Hesa's room and by the time we were done its room no longer looked so barren. The ring I folded into the scarf, and left in the center of its bed.
I worked later than I planned that night. Asara's paper store had generated a great deal more work in tracking expenses, income... and influence. I now had Houses petitioning me directly for supplies of their own. With those petitions had come even more invitations to gatherings, and while I turned down most of them I knew Darsi and I had to appear at a few. I was studying several of these invitations when a shadow fell over my desk. I looked up and found my pefna at the door. The scarf trailed down from its hand like a wash of fire, bright yellow and orange silk, and the gossamer was unfolded over its palm to reveal the gleam of gold.
"Pathen," it said, voice low. "I don't know what to say."
"What is there to say?" I answered. "You have earned
it several times over. Not just here, but at Laisira as well."
"I... I can't wear this," it said. "It's not done anymore."
"I know," I said. "I won't ask you to, setasha. But whether you wear it or not, you needed to have it."
It looked down at the ring and trailed light fingers over its curve before folding the ring back into the scarf and setting it on my chair. And then it quietly closed the door on the world, and for someone who'd not known what to say I found it very eloquent indeed.
Kuli thought to make her announcement without fanfare, but the rest of us would have none of it. Abadil and Hesa arranged an afternoon off for the whole House and Darsi bought holiday food, enough to need a cart to bring it back. We appropriated the common room for the party, laying out a feast before bringing everyone in for the announcement, which was greeted with thunderous cheers. The prospective fathers of the child built Kuli a mound of pillows and blankets and then enthroned her on it while she laughed in between wholly ineffective protests. There she presided over the festivities, accepting this tidbit or that cup, beaming or blushing as the occasion warranted. In her lap she had the doll we'd bought for House Asara's first child, and she wore Darsi's waist-chain around her hips—"While it fits," she'd said to me with a smile so winsome and amused that I saw how Darsi had fallen in love with her. Our anadi guests looked bewildered but glad to be there, and the emodo and eperu of the House... well. They had not just a welcome break from their work, but a real reason to celebrate. The plight of the anadi remained criminal, but in House Asara we had righted that wrong for one anadi. If not one, why not more? The hope in the room was headier than the wine.
Ganeth's entry caused a hesitation in the laughter and talk near him. Before the silence could develop fully, I said, "Captain? Over here."
The Claw advanced to my side, looking uncertain. "Ke emodo."
"What can I do for you, Ganeth?" I said, nursing my tea.
"There was no one at the construction site," he said. "I was concerned..."
"Oh!" Hesa said, coming closer. "I apologize, ke emodo. I should have left word that we were taking the afternoon off."
"Ah... no harm done," he said, uncomfortable. "I left half the Claws there to guard the site and the rest of us rode here to make sure nothing had happened."
"Something has," Abadil said with a grin as he reached behind me to pluck up a pastry. "A party!"
"Yes," I said. "We're celebrating the conception of ke Kuli's child. Would you like to join us? You and the Claws you've brought can spend an hour here, then rotate out to give the rest of your squad a chance to join us."
All this seemed a great deal for Ganeth to assimilate. "That... that's very kind of you, ke emodo. Conception?"
"You're familiar with our anadi prizes?" I said.
"Yes," he said. "Ah, ke Darsi... he sent us to escort the two of them that were due back, and to bring back the two new ones."
I said, "Kuli is our permanent resident and she chose to have a child by our emodo. We're celebrating the success of her efforts... and her choice to do so."
Ganeth watched one of the eperu bring Kuli a fresh cup of tea, their teasing interaction, the softness of its expression. He glanced at me and said, "Her choice."
"Truly worth celebrating, yes?" I said.
He touched his hand to his brow and inclined his head. "Ke emodo. We would be honored."
"Bring in your own, then," I said, "and share Asara's joy."
As Ganeth vanished into the hall to summon the other Claws, Abadil said over his half-eaten pastry, "You never stop working, do you, ke Pathen."
"Strangely, there never seems to be a lack of work to be done," I said.
"At last!" Hesa exclaimed. "You know how I feel!"
We all laughed. The party survived the inclusion of the Claws... prospered, even. Perhaps the members of Asara had taken to my example, for they plied the empire's enforcers with wine and festival breads and introduced them formally to Kuli and the other anadi until their shyness faded. I noted Ganeth talking with one of the anadi, even, and while I'd already liked the emodo for his concern over Hesa's wellbeing, his blushes at her attention endeared him to me.
I spent several hours in the party, but the work of the House truly hadn’t stopped accumulating. After evening fell, I kissed the back of Kuli's hand and asked her pardon for departing her gathering. She laughed and said, "Ke emodo. Yes! You may go. So long as you leave me someone to oversee the thing to its end."
"I trust ke Darsi will suit you?" I said, amused.
"I think he will," she said, lowering her lashes, but her voice trembled with the laugh she was withholding.
"You've done a great good for the House, and the Jokka," I said to her, quieter. "Thank you, Kuli."
"Pathen," she said, grave, "Thank you for giving me the chance."
Hesa raced its self-appointed deadline into the last month of autumn... raced it, and won. Two days before the Leaf Gathering I was sitting on the back of a rikka beneath a pale morning sky, very aware of the silence of the minister. I thought perhaps he'd been expecting to tour an empty building... an impressive one, certainly, but an expression of potential power, waiting in echoing quiet for the blood of the empire to course through it. But we had arrived to the sight of the first of three caravans being loaded in the warehouse as eperu queried the employees of the second and third as to their destinations, double-checking them against lists… lists written on paper, meant to be kept as permanent records. The huff of rikka in the chill, scratching the ground and leaning into their traces, the creak of wheels and the thump of crates and jars passing from hand to wagon, the quick and constant conversation... this was no mute facility waiting for purpose.
"Ke emodo! You're early."
And here was Hesa... fierce, beautiful Hesa, looking weary but holding its head with a proud, high tilt. It was dressed in utilitarian clothes but had pulled its short mane back with one of the sashes Darsi and I had given it, bright as sunrise, a flare of orange behind its shoulders.
"Pefna," I said, grave. "The Minister has arrived to approve the warehouse."
"Then let me show him what the Stone Moon has bought from House Asara," Hesa replied and looked up at Thesenet. "Minister."
"Ke eperu," he said, and dismounted.
We followed Hesa into the bustle, threading our way past the rikka and the great shadowed shapes of the wagons, up the ramp and into the warehouse. There Thesenet found his voice to ask Hesa questions which it answered in detail, pausing only when interrupted by someone who needed its approval on some task, or to report some status change. Darsi had not exaggerated the complexity of the undertaking when he'd put forth his objections to the project initially... but Hesa had put it all together in a little over two months, from a vague plan advanced to me over tea on a rooftop cheldzan to loaded caravans leaving for three separate hets, filled with cargo the eperu already knew would sell there. By the time it had brought Thesenet to the map painted on the wall beside its office and explained the chalked notations on it, I knew we'd won him completely. Abadil had made our fortunes and perhaps our place in history... but Hesa had given us our surety in the empire and with it, the door to all our aims.
I stood beside it next to its office. The minister was standing on the unloading platform—empty for now, since we had not yet received an incoming caravan—and this gave him a fine vantage to watch the activities of the eperu across from him, stacking the wagon beds using diagrams designed to maximize the use of the space in each. I could almost see him trembling with excitement. After that we let him wander. He'd arrived with two Claws, but as he investigated the warehouse two of Ganeth's emodo joined him and started answering his questions. By the time he made his way back to us, his eyes were shining.
"Truly," he said. "You have exceeded my every hope. This is brilliant." He turned to Hesa. "Ke eperu... such work deserves a bonus. Is there aught I can give you?"
Hesa's ears splayed. "Ah... ke emodo. You are generous, but I have
few needs."
"Surely there's something," he said.
Hesa looked away, watching its eperu at their labors. "Perhaps—"
"Yes?" he said.
"Not for me," Hesa said. "But for those who've worked on the project..."
"A noble thought," Thesenet said, encouraging it. "What shall I give them?"
"A day off," Hesa said. "True leisure, from when they rise from their bunks to when they go back to them."
Thesenet leaned back and smiled, and a very fond and bemused smile it was. "You won't take a gift from me, but you'll ask for relief for the people beneath you."
"Minister," Hesa said. "A gift would be kind, but wasted on an eperu. The day off, though... that will have meaning."
"I notice," Thesenet said, mouth quirking, "that you asked for this day off for 'them.' Did you forget to include yourself in this request?"
Hesa paused, startled, then answered sheepishly, "I didn't even think of it, ke emodo."
"We're not sure ke Hesa knows how not to work," I said, amused.
"Well then it must surely practice," Thesenet said. Sternly, "Ke eperu, your people can have their day off. But so must you. A leader must lead by example."
"Of course," it said, rueful.
"Then I am well-pleased to make the gift," Thesenet said, grinning.
Hesa inclined its head, then added, "Minister... your Claws have labored just as hard as we have on this project. Will you extend that offer to them as well?"
Surprised, Thesenet said, "Of course. And thank you for thinking of them."
Hesa smiled a little. "Ke emodo. I am the pefna-eperu of House Asara. We caretake the breeders."
Arrested by its gravitas, Thesenet paused. Then touched his hand to his brow and then his chest. "Ke eperu."
"Ke emodo," Hesa answered. "If you will both excuse me? We'd like to get the outbound wagons on their way before afternoon."
"Go ahead, pefna," I said. "And well done."
It smiled at me and then strode back into the thick of things, where it belonged.
A Bloom in the North Page 25
