by Jill Braden
Under the toe of his boot, he crushed a thin layer of brittle mud left from a rain puddle that had dried months ago. He wondered if he should blurt out that he’d been faithful to her all these years. That he’d only ever loved her. But she was worldly now. Such an outburst would make him sound like a schoolboy, and it would only embarrass her, but he wanted her to know.
He squinted at the dappled shade down the lane and tried to figure out if the far-off person was walking toward them or away. “I can see her point.”
Nashruu leaned away from him. “Yes, well, don’t we all wish we were free of him? But since that’s not going to happen, I have to be practical. She won’t budge to save her own life. There must be something she wants, though. Kyam wouldn’t tell me. But you’re friends with her. I saw you two huddled together in the shadows at the wharf.”
“That wasn’t–” Why did he have to keep explaining that? Why was it anyone’s business?
“Please, tell me what I can offer Lady QuiTai. I have to get her to agree to serve Grandfather. You have no idea how I’ll suffer if I fail. How your son will suffer.”
He winced at the crude attempt at manipulation. He’d only just learned he had a son. Wasn’t it too early to try to use the boy as a lever? Did they think that fatherly concern took only a minute to develop?
“I don’t know QuiTai well enough to give you any insight,” he said stiffly.
“You looked awfully close on the wharf.”
“We aren’t lovers. We’ve never been lovers,” he blurted. Nashruu looked a bit alarmed. He spread his hands. “She’s not the type to have close relationships with anyone. Have you asked her what she wants?”
Nashruu tugged on her gloves, a gesture he recognized: she was frustrated. Her gaze shifted to the long, shady lane. “She had ridiculous demands.”
“Let me guess. She wanted Ponong to be independent again.”
She scowled. “And for the King to bow down to her people and apologize. What sort of insane person asks for something like that?”
He was as offended as Nashruu was.
“Can’t you think of anything? Please, this is important. It’s not just for Grandfather. I’m asking for Thampur. We need Lady QuiTai on our side when the war starts. I can’t fail. Please.”
Thampur had never done a damn thing for him, but his son was to become part of the royal family. Thampur was going to belong to his son. Giddy joy swept over him and he couldn’t hide his smile. He had a son!
He had a son whom he could never acknowledge because it would ruin the boy’s rise to the top of Thampurian society. Could he risk a relationship, though? Something more than silence and distance? Could he pretend to be an uncle, a family friend?
He had a son.
She couldn’t drop something like that at his feet and expect him not to stagger. Yet here she was, talking about the nation and duty and making him want to give everything to their Grandfather in return for this miracle.
He had a son. His heart was buoyant.
“I know you must be angry with me, but please, this is important. Is there anything you can think of?” Nashruu asked. She reached for his arm. He barely felt the weight of her fingers through the thick material of his jacket.
“Let me think about it.”
“No time to think. I need something now.”
Voorus tried to concentrate on what he knew of QuiTai. She wouldn’t ever need something from another person. She could do everything for herself. He didn’t even know that much about her except the things that everyone knew, like how she’d paralyzed those werewolves and left them in the marketplace for her people to dismember, and why she’d done that. He shivered as he imagined his son being eaten by wolves right in front of him.
“If I were her, before I died, I’d want to make Cuulon pay for my daughter’s death. I’d want to destroy anyone who stole that from me,” he said.
QuiTai wouldn’t let a wound like that go unavenged any more than he would. She understood honor.
“Cuulon, again. His name seems to come up a lot when anyone speaks of QuiTai.”
“Do you know the story?”
Nashruu gave him a pitying look. “More than even QuiTai knows.”
“Don’t bet on that. She knows a lot. It’s eerie how much she can figure out from a glance.” He wasn’t a superstitious man, and wasn’t given to believing in folktales like so many of his caste, so he was a bit embarrassed to say, “It’s as if she has a god in her pocket.”
“She may well have.” Nashruu’s head jerked slightly, as if she suddenly realized she’d said something indiscreet. “About QuiTai…”
“I’d want Cuulon dead, but QuiTai doesn’t think like most people. If Cuulon is alive now, it’s because she wants him to be.”
“We are of one mind on that. She is formidable. So, whom should I send to arrest Chief Justice Cuulon?”
She had to be joking. Could she do that? An ungentlemanly thrill jolted through him. There was something bad, forbidden, and sexy about this new side of her. He reached to grasp her hand but then thought better of it. They were in public. She was a thiree; He was a bastard. She was married.
“Your husband, I suppose,” he said.
Nashruu snorted. “When Kyam gets mixed up with Lady QuiTai, unexpected things happen to our plans. He’s to stay out of it. I told him.”
Voorus laughed. “He obeys you?” His mother wasn’t the type to obey a man either. He’d always thought that was why she hadn’t remarried. Now he wasn’t so sure.
“It’s not a question of obedience to me. Or even his filial duty to our grandfather. I have a writ from our royal cousin. I’d like to see him ignore that.”
Chapter 17: Educating Nashruu
“You’re angry, Ma’am Zul,” QuiTai said as Nashruu entered the dungeon.
Nashruu was cross at Colonel Hurust, who had first refused to let her visit QuiTai again and then abruptly abandoned her at the top of the dungeon stairs. If it wasn’t such a ridiculous idea, she’d swear he was afraid of the dark. And of course no guards were on duty. She felt as if she could walk in and out of their dungeon with far too much ease.
“There are only a couple of reasons you’d be angry with me, so let me posit a scenario, and you can tell me if I’m right,” QuiTai said.
Nashruu raised her chin. There was no way QuiTai could know why she was out of sorts. All she could do was guess. Perhaps she was like one of those charlatans who persuaded weak-minded women that they were in touch with the spirit world. That wouldn’t fool Nashruu. She already knew that QuiTai had the best network of informants in existence to gather gossip for her. Down here, she was cut off from her sources, but she could still read people with uncanny accuracy. This time, she wouldn’t be able to guess. “Go on.”
QuiTai smiled down at her hands. “The Thampurian men you’ve been dealing with today are using a tone of voice with you that’s usually reserved for small children with sticky hands. Because you are a clever woman, you know that if you raise your voice the slightest bit, you’ll be seen as a shrew, and if you don’t, they’ll talk right over you. If you stand firm, you’re troublesome and should be put in your place. They may even threaten to turn you over to Kyam in the hopes that he’ll control you. And by that, they mean beat you into submission. Or they grip your elbow and steer you toward the door. Yes, it must have been a frustrating day for you, even though you’ve had to negotiate this delicate balance your entire life.”
Anyone could have guessed that. Nashruu clamped her mouth shut and tried not to react.
QuiTai seemed to take that as an answer. “You feel you should be shown some courtesy, due to the seriousness of your mission, but at every step you’re forced to resort to threats and waving the King’s writ under noses. You might even have to drag out the farwriter and get your Grandfather to tell the men to do as you say, something that undermines your personal authority and worse, wastes time.”
How could QuiTai possibly know she had a writ from the Kin
g? Maybe she’d overheard the militia talking. She wished she could remember exactly what she’d told QuiTai during her last visit. Maybe she’d let the information slip herself.
For a moment, she wondered if it could it be true that QuiTai spoke directly to the gods. No, that was nonsense. QuiTai had to be getting the information from a terrestrial source. Grandfather could believe what he wanted, and she was more than happy to indulge him if it meant her freedom.
“But what saddens me, Ma’am Zul, is how you’ve turned that frustration toward me. I have done you no wrong. I did not decide that today should be this hot and you this weary. It’s not my fault that Thampurian men are patronizing fools. Be angry with them, not me,” QuiTai said.
She thought she’d been prepared for QuiTai, but Nashruu was shocked by her disregard for convention. The truth should never be shoved unceremoniously into the light to be exposed raw and naked in front of people. It deserved to be clothed in grace and dignity.
“I wouldn’t have to put up with them if you’d agree to serve Thampur,” she remarked acidly. In the next second, she regretted the display of temper. Her orders were to be charming and sympathetic. If necessary, she was to try to seduce QuiTai. Sniping at her was not in the plan.
“Why does Thampur want my help? It’s a big, strong nation. I’m simply the owner of a small brothel who dabbles in smuggling and extortion.”
Grandfather said that QuiTai seemed to value honesty above everything else, so Nashruu was to be truthful if nothing else was working. Should she be truthful now? Back home, it seemed that orders were orders and all you had to do was follow them; but out here, there were so many decisions to be made, and orders provided far too little guidance.
“You have on your liar’s face, Ma’am Zul.”
She had been preparing to lie.
“This is the part of the game where you put your tiles on the table face up, not the time when you bluff,” QuiTai said.
Nashruu drew in a breath.
“All your tiles.”
QuiTai frightened her, but Nashruu was a Thampurian lady, and she would not let it show. “You said earlier that you were willing to die rather than let Grandfather have what he wants.”
“That sentiment hasn’t changed.”
“Then why–”
“You came to speak to me. I did not send for you.”
She sensed that QuiTai was smirking, although her face remained impassive. “Oh! I give up,” she snapped, exasperated, abandoning her intended self-discipline. “Hang if you want to.”
QuiTai pressed her hands together and bowed.
~ ~ ~
Nashruu had nearly reached the top of the stairs before she turned around and descended back into the dungeon. QuiTai hadn’t moved. If she’d seen even a hint of triumph on QuiTai’s face, she would have struck it off with the back of her hand.
“Grandfather knows about the Qui. He always assumed your lot were con artists. Like all priests are, he said. But now he thinks you’re the real thing. He thinks you can talk directly to your goddess. That explains how you always know so much and can see the future.”
QuiTai obviously didn’t think much of Grandfather’s idea. “I suppose divine assistance is the only other possible solution, although it’s the least probable one.”
“More improbable than what?”
“That I’m smart enough to do it myself, without any help, divine or otherwise.”
“It’s vulgar to brag,” Nashruu said with disgust.
Instead of being abashed, QuiTai seemed to find this outburst funny. “If I were a man, that would simply be a candid observation about my abilities. You know you’re smarter than almost every man you’ve had to deal with today. Is it wrong to say it?”
QuiTai was getting inside her head. She’d been warned about this.
Nashruu’s shoulders squirmed as she tried to think of a way to gain the upper hand. “No well-bred Thampurian woman would ever think such things.”
“You mean no well-trained Thampurian woman would dare say such things out loud. Well-trained, well-trampled.”
“Women who act like you are unfeminine.”
“It’s impossible for a woman to be unfeminine. Would you like me better if I pretended to be clumsy, or stupid?”
Nashruu bit her lip. How many times had she pretended to be clumsy and weak-minded to get along better with the women in her circle? Too many. And if someone complimented you and you didn’t deny every good thing they said, you’d be attacked.
“I would never force you to hide your talents or invite your friends to say vicious things behind your back,” QuiTai said. “Never make you live in misery. Isn’t that what the famed salons of Surrayya are really about? Cruelty as entertainment?”
“How dare you!”
QuiTai clicked her tongue like a scolding teacher. “Don’t lecture me on my behavior, because I don’t give a damn what you think of me.”
Nashruu reeled. She secretly thought the same thing about the salons, so why did she want to shout that it was a lie? She didn’t like feeling uncomfortable in this way. Was QuiTai deliberately provoking her? When had she lost control of this conversation?
“Go be offended elsewhere, Ma’am Zul. It’s been a difficult day for me, and it’s only going to get worse.” QuiTai massaged her temples.
It was hard to tell in the dim lighting, but Nashruu thought QuiTai didn’t look as robust as before. From the furrow in her brow, it appeared she truly had a headache.
“Are you in need of medication?”
QuiTai’s laughter bounced off the stone walls. “I will be hanged in a few hours. Do you have a cure for that in your purse also?”
Nashruu clasped her hands primly at her waist. “As a matter of fact, I do, but you insist on refusing it.”
That made QuiTai laugh even more. Despite Nashruu’s sour mood, the sound was contagious. She put her hand over her mouth in a last attempt to rein in her laughter. The tension shattered as she and QuiTai laughed together until their eyes ran with tears.
After wiping the corners of her eyes, QuiTai sobered, but she seemed more lighthearted than before. “It’s a shame that we won’t have much more time to talk. Even though you’re Grandfather Zul’s agent, I’ve decided that I like you – so I’m going to help you.”
Charlatans only told you what you wanted to hear, but did that make the message wrong? Nashruu knew she was smarter than most of the men she’d had to deal with today. She hated the way they treated her, but it hadn’t much abraded her sensibilities until QuiTai pointed it out.
She knew she was being manipulated, but she was also being offered a glimpse of what it would be like if she stopped hiding her intelligence and behaving in the expected ways. It was Grandfather’s fault that it appealed to her. He’d given her a taste for scandalous behavior when he’d sent her to seduce Voorus. QuiTai seemed to be offering an honest friendship of a kind she’d never known before. The opportunity might be short-lived, so she should make good use of it both personally and professionally.
“I think you’re the one in need of help, Lady QuiTai.”
QuiTai made a little sound of dismissal. “Tell me, Ma’am Zul, if I were to agree to your Grandfather’s terms, do you really think you could stop my execution? Cuulon is determined to see me die. Could you convince the militia to follow your orders instead of his?”
“Yes.”
QuiTai shook her head. “No.”
Nashruu tugged at her purse strings, “But, as you know, I have a writ from the King.”
“A piece of paper versus the man who has ruled this island for forty years. A king far across the sea, or the king they know? Who are they going to obey?”
“Chief Justice Cuulon isn’t a king. He isn’t even Governor.”
“And yet everyone here knows he’s the real power. Your paper will be ignored.”
Nashruu had seen it already. The men who allowed her into the dungeon made sure she knew they were indulging her. At any time they c
ould change their minds and ignore her. “Tell me how I make them listen to me.”
“Kill one as a warning to the others.”
Nashruu sighed. The last thing she needed now was dry wit. “Real advice, please.”
“I’m serious. Do it calmly as you can, in front of witnesses, then step over the body and continue the conversation. I’m assuming, of course, that you know how to kill. I hope Grandfather didn’t neglect that area of training as well.”
QuiTai couldn’t be serious. Simply kill a man, let his body drop, and keep talking? Who could be that callous?
“But doesn’t that get you into trouble, killing people as an example to others?” Nashruu asked.
“Loads of trouble. Then you find a way out of that trouble. And then no one can stop you.” QuiTai’s head tilted. “But that might not work for you. I can see it isn’t in your nature. Pardon me while I think out loud on this.”
Feeling that she’d somehow stepped into one of those dreadful experimental Ingosolian plays where the distorted sets made you feel as if you’d smoked a black lotus pipe and the dialog consisted of people shouting about fish, she gestured for QuiTai to continue. None of Grandfather’s lessons had prepared her for this. He’d never talked about killing. He’d never questioned that people would obey her if she mentioned his name.
QuiTai rubbed her temples as she paced. “You’ve lost everything the moment a man uses a patronizing tone of voice on you. Anything you say after that will seem petulant. You could try talking down to them from the beginning, since the first one to treat the other like an idiot usually wins these things, but ideally you want your conversations to remain as professional as possible.”
“Yes. I suppose.” She wasn’t sure.
“Respect is key. The problem there is that Thampurian men demand that you respect them while they treat you like an idiot child.”
That summed up Nashruu’s entire life.
“I still say killing the first one who questions your authority sends the quickest message, but failing that, remind them once that you are an agent of the King. That’s fair warning. Then if they ignore you, stop the conversation immediately. It will only weaken your position to say more.”
